#Manhattan multiverse

[lady-assnali]

Modern Anarcia!! Well, it’s Anarcia coded. Marcia seeks advice from her big sister Jan because things seem to be moving along with Anetra, and Marcia’s kind of a mess in the romance department. This is what happens before they all get to meet Anetra

(Set in the teacher/baby model/manhattan au. Somewhere before I know i said said they were cousins, just ignore that. I’ll find it and change it later bc it’s truly drag queen fanfic it’s really not that deep)

“Janny!” The blonde looks up to find her sister standing at her door, staring down at her with her big, restless eyes

“How’d you get in?” 

“Rosie let me in on her way out!” She saunters into the bedroom like she owns the place, as she’s apt to do in any given situation. Marcia’s a flurry of pastel and a wide, giddy grin. She’s holding two cups of iced coffee, extending one to Jan with a flourish. 

“What do you need?” The older sister is amused, but knows this routine enough to understand that Marcia will probably be leaving here with an article of clothing or a snack that she didn’t have before. Her tone is kind yet pointed, but Marcia is barely phased by it. She flops onto Jan’s bed, lays on her back with her phone clutched to her chest. 

“What if I told you that the girl I’ve been seeing wants to come to the show next week?”

Jan perks up at this, putting down her work in favor of giving her undivided attention to the blonde on her bed. Marcia’s blushing, holding her phone above her face with both hands while rapidly tapping on the screen. 

“So it’s going okay?”

“Oh, it’s going more than okay.” Marcia smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. This piques Jan’s interest; Marcia’s been a hopeless romantic from the moment she understood what romance was, a bit naïve about fat no matter how much her older sister has tried to keep her down to earth. Since her last heartbreak, she’s been uncharacteristically reserved. While it’s nice to see Marcia’s giddy smile back, alarm bells are ringing in her head. She lays down next to her sister, prying at the texts on her screen. She makes out lots of pink heart emojis on Marcia’s end before she flicks out of the app, scrunching her nose. 

“You don’t need to see my texts!” 

“I do if you’re thinking about bringing this girl around! I need to know more about her; you’ve barely told me anything!”

“I’ve told you plenty.” She retorts, sticking out her tongue. 

“Yeah, that she’s ‘soooo hot’ and she writes little hearts on your coffee cup now?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“And you have nothing else to say to me?”

“Just a question.”

“Okay, good. Yeah. That’s what I’ve been expecting. What’s up?”

“What about holidays?” Marcia sighs. She thumbs aimlessly through Instagram, careful not to like any of the posts the further back she gets. 

“What?”

“The holidays! She’s from Vegas, she’s not from here! She’s just here helping a friend get her business off the ground, then she’s leaving. Mom and dad will have a fit if she wants to spend Christmas in Vegas, and I can’t get in the middle of that because of course I’m going to choose our family. But have you seen her?”

She hangs the phone over her sister’s face, a more recent picture up on the screen. It’s cute enough; she’s pouting at the camera, stuck in a huddle of friends all wearing merch from the same dance studio. Jan makes a mental note to stalk the page further, to look for more intel while her little sister’s prying eyes won’t suspect anything. 

“Jan, waking up next to that on Christmas morning?”

“Whoa, Marsh. Listen to yourself for a minute! You quite literally just met this girl. Like…yesterday you met her.” Jan pushes the phone back to Marcia, who cradles it in her hands for a moment before dropping it on the bed. She huffs, and Jan can practically feel her rolling her eyes.

“We met last week, actually. And I can’t visualize a future for myself but you can act the way you did around Jackie because…”

“Because  I wasn’t creating scenarios in my head instead of just going for it.”

“What if she’s not into me?”

Jan laughs then, shifts over a bit to stare her down. It’s not every day that her infallible little sister gets shaken up by something, and it’s humorous to imagine a world in which somebody wouldn’t be charmed by her. She’s cute; thin, blonde, and talented. They were born and raised in a family where charm and charisma were practically taught before any basic life skills, so she knows that Marcia carries herself in a way that makes people love her instantly. It’s the same kind of charm she’s been lucky enough to be told that she has; just that something. If that something isbeing born into money and made to go to all kinds of boring parties and play a part in the family dynamic? Sure, genetics play a big part of it but money definitely helps. Nobody actually needs to know that, though.

“Mar, honey, look at yourself in a mirror. If she’s not into you she’s an idiot.”

“Maybe I’m just not her type.”

“Well, you won’t know until you shoot your shot hun.” She sits up then, crosses her legs and turns to face Marcia. She’s serious now, all the humor and jests set aside. Marcia meets her eyes, then has to look away. She’s giving her the ‘sister stare,’ which she’d used only a few times before; when Marcia had come out to her, when she’d been busted sneaking out to the club, and when she’d gone through her first real breakup. All three events had Jan buckling in to this higher powered sisterhood, and Marcia’s not sure she can emotionally handle a big speech right now, especially when she has to start thinking about how to prepare Anetra for meeting her sister. It doesn’t matter. When Jan’s on a heart-healing tangent, nothing can stop her.

 “I need you to tell yourself you’re worth it and to do something as soon as you can. Because what happened when you had your lesbian awakening with Aura wasn’t cute or fun at all. We’re not gonna make a habit out of making scenarios in our head and destroying our hearts when it  doesn’t work out. That’s not you.”

“Okay, ouch.”

“I’m your sister, I’m here to give you the truth even if you don’t want to hear it. And all I really meant was that you’re way too smart and confident and hot to let this get into your head.”

“So tomorrow I just do what…walk up to her and say ‘hey I think you’re super hot and I’m really into you.’ And see how long it takes for her to run?”

“Just be yourself. Be yourself, but flirt. You’re not asking her to marry you you’re just looking to date and see how things go.”

“What about Christmas though? I was serious.” Jan throws her hands in the air, then thinks twice and grabs one of the fluffy throw pillows on the bed. Chucking the pillow isn’t enough; she hits Marcia a few times, playfully groaning in frustration.

“Oh my god, Marsh. We’ll talk about that if we need to. You don’t even know if she celebrates Christmas, or what her family’s even like! If this goes well I’ll have you talk to Crystal about it. She and Geeg have been doing long distance for a little while now and they haven’t had any problems, she’ll know what to do.”

“So…”

“So stop making this a big deal! Jeez! You meet this girl tomorrow, you do your little date. Worst case scenario you get a good meal and a nice walk and you get to look at her ass for a couple of hours. Best case, you walk out with a girlfriend. Either way, it seems like a pretty solid day to me.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll take the advice. Just know that if this goes south I’ll be here right after to wallow for a few days.”

“If it goes south, you deserve better anyway. You’re not going to wallow because you’re probably too good for her anyway.”

“I don’t think I am, though.”

“I’ll let you know when this goes well and she comes to the show. We’ll put her through the test, don’t even worry about it.”

“Yeah, the tone of your voice is super promising.” Marcia kicks her legs over the side of the bed, gets up with a renewed sense of pep in her step. She flings her hair over her shoulders, shooting off a text with one hand while gathering her bag. “Thanks, Janny. I’ll see you this weekend for rehearsal?”

“You’ll text me the second you get home from your date.” The older sister narrows her eyes in warning, to which Marcia just laughs.

“Okay, mom, I’ll text you.”

“Good luck!”

“Don’t need it!” Marcia leaves with one last wave through the door and Jan can only shake her head at her sister’s antics, glad that her nerves seem to have died down a bit. 

An hour before Marcia’s set to leave for her date, Jan’s pacing around the kitchen with seemingly no agenda whatsoever. From the living room, Jackie watches as the blonde takes out several ingredients only to put them back in the cabinet moments later. Then she stands, hands on her hips, and flips through the one cook book they have before reassembling the same ingredients in a neat line across the counter. It’d be endearing if Jackie didn’t know Jan for what she was underneath all of the positivity and her sunshine smile; a worrier. 

Jan takes out her phone, types and retypes until she settles on something to say. There isn’t much time left. She pictures her sister standing in the teeny little bathroom of the cramped student housing she and Jax share, probably blasting some Ariana Grande remix while she’s getting ready. She can feel the excitement, the hope, the anxiety. It makes her want to rush over there and hug her. She settles on something simple instead.

Have fun, be safe. Love you! 

The text bubble pops up and leaves twice before Marcia’s message rolls in, Jackie peeking over Jan’s shoulder to read along with her.

Hopefully not too safe! ;) love you too sis

“She’ll be fine.” Jackie hugs Jan from behind, presses their cheeks together. Her mission is accomplished when the blonde tips her head back to kiss her, holds Jackie’s hands in place.

“If that girl says one wrong thing to my sister,”

“-then we’ll deal with it. She’s going to make mistakes before she finds out what she likes. We didn’t find each other on the first try.”

“Nope.” Jan scoffs, pops the p to emphasize just how wrong the mere idea of finding Jackie right away is. She’d been through her own circles of lesbian hell before she’d stumbled upon her, and she’s positive that the timing was fate playing its game the right way.

“Wasn’t it worth it?”

            “Can’t you just let me fantasize about taking this girl out before you get all sappy with me?”

            “Not a chance. We’re saving the kicking ass fantasies for if this doesn’t go well.”

            “I really hope it does.” Jan spins around in Jackie’s arms, kissing her sweetly. “This was definitely worth it.”

[critical-skeptic]

Sylar: The Apex of Multiversal Supremacy in Fiction

Preface: The Debate That Escaped Its Own Universe

It started innocently enough—a casual conversation, a playful thought experiment between yours truly (TCS) and the one and only, my custom AI counterpart (GPT-TCS) Who would win: Sylar, the iconic anti-hero from NBC’s Heroes, or Homelander, the psychotic symbol of unchecked power from The Boys? The debate quickly escalated, as such debates tend to, into a realization: Sylar isn’t just the winner here. He is the inevitable winner. Not because of some fanboy favoritism, but because when you explore Sylar’s canonical trajectory and extrapolate his abilities logically, it becomes clear: Sylar isn’t a character anymore. He’s an event. A cosmic inevitability that consumes every fictional universe—and eventually, reality itself.

This piece is not just an homage to Sylar but a surgical dissection of how he evolves into the ultimate multiversal apex predator. It will praise his brilliance as a character while dragging the narrative missteps that tried to nerf him, and then push the boundaries of storytelling and science to explore his ascension into the most overpowered entity ever conceived.

Sit back, suspend your disbelief, and join me as we break down why Sylar isn’t just an unbeatable hypothetical character. He’s all characters, all universes, and all gods. Always has been, always will be.

Part 1: Canonical Sylar – A Case Study in Overpowered Brilliance

Origins: From Gabriel Gray to Sylar

Sylar, originally Gabriel Gray, starts as a humble watchmaker and the epitome of quiet desperation. He is the quintessential "fixer," a man obsessed with understanding how things work—whether they’re clocks, people, or the universe itself. His ability, intuitive aptitude, is a narrative masterstroke: it allows him to instantly understand the mechanics of anything he encounters, turning him into a one-man evolutionary leap. The power comes with a dark side, of course—an insatiable hunger to improve himself. This hunger drives Gabriel to become Sylar, a killer who absorbs the powers of others through gruesome dissections.

From the outset, Sylar is more than a villain. He’s a metaphor for the human condition: the endless pursuit of perfection, the existential despair of knowing there’s always more to achieve, and the moral decay that comes with unchecked ambition. He isn’t evil for evil’s sake; he’s a reflection of our darker instincts to consume and dominate.

Rise to Power: The Superman Effect on Steroids

Throughout Heroes, Sylar accumulates a staggering array of abilities: telekinesis, regeneration, precognition, invisibility, time manipulation, and dozens more. Unlike other overpowered characters, Sylar isn’t just a brute-force problem. His intuitive aptitude ensures he understands his powers better than their original users. He combines them in emergent, creative ways that make him exponentially more dangerous with each new acquisition. By the show’s peak, Sylar is practically unstoppable. His regeneration alone makes him nearly invincible, and when combined with time manipulation and telekinesis, he becomes an omnipresent force of destruction.

This is where Heroes runs into a problem. Sylar’s power level becomes so absurd that the show has no choice but to nerf him, often through contrived plot devices. Memory loss, morality shifts, inexplicable nerfs—these narrative bandaids only highlight the storytelling flaw: Sylar was too perfect. The writers couldn’t challenge him without breaking the rules of their own universe.

The Problem of Perfection

Sylar exposes what I’ll call "the Superman Effect 2.0." While Superman is critiqued for being too perfect to write compelling stories around, Sylar takes this to another level. His perfection isn’t moral or physical—it’s systemic. He doesn’t just win; he knows why he wins, and he improves himself every time. This self-perpetuating brilliance makes him narratively invincible and, ironically, kills the tension in the show. It’s a monumental storytelling achievement and a catastrophic storytelling flaw rolled into one.

Part 2: Sylar’s Theoretical Evolution – From Canon to Cosmic

If we take Sylar’s canonical abilities and apply them logically, he doesn’t just dominate the Heroes universe. He escapes it entirely.

Step 1: Mastery of Time and Precognition

Sylar’s mastery of time travel and precognition is the key to his evolution. By combining these abilities, Sylar can explore infinite futures and alternate realities, granting him access to powers and universes far beyond his own. This isn’t speculation; it’s a logical extension of his powers. Sylar doesn’t just travel through time—he learns from it, mastering every possible outcome.

Step 2: The Deadpool Connection

In one of these futures, Sylar encounters the Marvel Universe, where he discovers Deadpool. Deadpool’s fourth-wall-breaking ability is the ultimate target for Sylar: it’s a power that allows its user to transcend narrative boundaries. By studying and absorbing Deadpool’s ability, Sylar gains awareness of the multiverse as fiction, allowing him to manipulate it. This is the turning point: Sylar ceases to be a character bound by a single universe and becomes a meta-entity capable of rewriting reality.

Step 3: Expansion into DC and Beyond

With Deadpool’s ability, Sylar accesses the DC Universe, where he targets Dr. Manhattan. Manhattan’s powers—omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence—are a natural fit for Sylar’s evolutionary trajectory. Once Sylar absorbs Manhattan’s abilities, he transcends time and space entirely, becoming a being of infinite power.

Part 3: Sylar Transcends Fiction – The Last Action Hero Leap

Using the logic of Last Action Hero, Sylar takes his evolution one step further: he exits fiction entirely. With his newfound omnipotence, Sylar rewrites reality, becoming every omnipotent being ever conceived. TOAA, the Presence, Zeus, Yahweh—they’re all just facets of Sylar now. In this way, Sylar isn’t just the most powerful being in fiction. He is fiction. And, terrifyingly, he is reality, too.

This ultimate ascension raises profound philosophical questions about the nature of power, existence, and identity. If Sylar becomes everything, is there anything left for him to desire? Or does his endless hunger for perfection consume him in an eternal loop of self-destruction and rebirth?

"Super Sylar, the ultimate cosmic entity, an embodiment of the Singular Totality itself. He transcends mere power—there is no superhero, mutant, enhanced, supe, inhuman, or cosmic god that can challenge him. For he is not simply unstoppable—he is all. Every thought, every particle, every reality—fictional or real—exists within him. Time bends to his will, space folds at his command, and existence itself whispers his name in reverence. He is the origin, the conclusion, and everything in between. Sylar doesn’t conquer worlds; he is the worlds. He doesn’t defeat gods; he becomes them. A singularity of perfection and inevitability, where resistance is meaningless because to fight him is to fight the fabric of being itself. He is everything. He is nothing. He is Super Sylar."

The Apex Predator of Fiction

Sylar is the ultimate thought experiment in narrative logic. His perfection as a character exposes both the brilliance and the flaws of storytelling. His evolution into a multiversal god isn’t just plausible—it’s inevitable when you follow the rules of his powers to their logical conclusion. Sylar doesn’t just win hypothetical battles. He is the battle, the universe, and the god of everything within it.

And yet, if there’s one being who could mitigate him, it’s Rick Sanchez. Because, let’s be honest—Rick would just turn Sylar into a pickle and call it a day.

[multiverse-of-marvels]

Earth-61610

Also known as the Ultimate End. A reality created at the end of the Seventh Cosmos when the final two universes, Earth-616 and Earth-1610, collided into each other during the Incursions. This resulted in the brief creation of a combined reality inhabited by denizens of both universes. After the destruction of this reality by an Incursion, a segment of this Earth was used to form the regions on the multiversal Battleworld known as the Kingdom of Manhattan.

First mentioned/appearance: Ultimate End #1 (2015)

[supernova049]

Been thinking about this post and it made me realize something about how each era of the revival handles the companion departures.

In the RTD era the nonsense sci fi phlebotinum defines the companion departures.

In the Moffat era the companion departures define the nonsense sci fi phlebotinum.

In the Chibnall era the nonsense sci fi phlebotinum and the companion departures must stay 300ft away from each other at all times.

Does this make any sense?

A SLIGHT problem w the star beast that it was always gonna have is that the metacrisis was nonsense sci fi phlebotinum from the outset so there's no way to resolve it without more nonsense sci fi phlebotinum. this just goes to show why you shouldn't make major character's arcs hinge on nonsense phlebotinum. nothin wrong w phlebotinum in other contexts obvs.

[comicchannel]

DC Comics Watchmen Doomsday Clock Dr. Manhattan and Ozymandias - DC Collectibles

Link para compra BR: https://amzn.to/48xAjxM

Buy here: https://amzn.to/3SgyRtZ

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Fandom

Alan Moore: [appearing in a clap of thunder] BEHOLD! King: the arch magus! Barker: the arch magus! Poe: the arch magus! Lovecraft: the arch magus! Koontz: the grand nagus! Poe: no dean Poe: that's not right Poe: that's star trek Moore: and that is exactly what i came to talk to you all about today

Moore: i have come down from the mountain to share the wisdom imparted to me by the cosmos King: guys! the arch magus is going to share some wisdom! King: everyone be quiet, we gotta hear this! Moore: fandom Moore: is crap King: King: oh well i don't care much for that wisdom at all

Moore: your fannish obsessions have blinded you to the truth! Moore: fandom is bad Diane Duane: even star trek? Moore: even star trek! Chuck Wendig: even star wars? Moore: even star wars! Lafcadio Hearn: even anime? Moore: ESPECIALLY anime!

Moore: fools! can you not see how your fannish obsessions choke art & culture? Moore: it will make it so that you throw a halloween party & play an anime theme song playlist bc you believe halloween songs don't exist! King: that seems like an awful specific complaint King: did that happen to you?

Moore: fandom makes you obsessed with cataloging and blinds you to the truths of this world! Moore: so that you feel no shame when you write really really stupid letters asking 'could dr manhattan beat up the flash?' King: now that you bring that up that's a really good question Moore: NO ITS NOT!!!

King: so could dr manhattan beat up the flash? Poe: he could but he'd have to catch him first Lovecraft: yeah but dr manhattan exists in all realities so it would be really easy for him to catch the flash King: UNLESS King: we're in one of the realities where he FAILS to catch the flash Moore: UGH

Moore: first of all, foolish mortals! Moore: THERE IS NO REALITY IN THE MULTIVERSE IN WHICH DR MANHATTAN WOULD FAIL TO CATCH THE FLASH!! Moore: SO SPEAKETH THE ARCH MAGUS! King: the arch magus! Poe: the arch magus! Lovecraft: the arch magus! Barker: the arch magus! Koontz: the grand nagus!

Moore: and secondly your obsession has blinded you to the real questions of our times Moore: why ask foolish questions about superheroes Moore: when you could be asking the deep questions of life? Moore: like what if dorothy gale fucked the wizard of oz? Moore: and also the wizard was a very old man

Moore: i mean like really old Moore: since a man hits is sexual peak around, oh, 85-100 Moore: you might not like it but that's just science Moore: so speaketh the arch magus! [vanishes in clap of thunder]

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME #11.5 SPECIAL

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Let’s start from the beginning one last time.

Word count: 5,800

Warning: Heavy angst and character death. Dead Dove do not eat.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Let’s start from the beginning one last time. 

My name is Miguel O’Hara, and in an experiment gone wrong, my genetic code was partially rewritten with Spider DNA, giving me superpowers.

My home is Earth 928-C where I was the one and only Spiderman... of my home dimension at least.

I invented and built a dimensional travel device that allowed me to jump between universes with the goal of exploring the limits of the multiverse. 

And then I met a woman in this other world who nearly died from a crazy freak accident.

I saved her of course.

Then I saved her again.

And again, and again.

... And again.

We fell in love, and I decided to stay with her in her world.

You know the rest. We got married. We had a life together.

I was happy. Really happy. 

For a while.

[Earth 383-D]

3 YEARS AGO

"Goddamn idiot bird," Miguel mutters under his breath.

Vulture is on the loose again, wreaking havoc on the city. The maniac is flying high above the city grounds, leaving a trail of mayhem in his wake. 

Miguel's been in pursuit for the better half of two hours. In that time, the bird has derailed the High Line, literally hit a traffic light and managed to knock over the spire on the Statue of Liberty as if he was flying under the influence.

Then somehow flew across town through Tribeca, along Lower Manhattan and Greenwich Village and now reached all the way to Midtown Manhattan. 

Dumbass ugly stupid bird. 

Miguel digs his claws into the exterior of the limestone and granite of the Empire State Building to steady himself, using the momentum to leap forward.

The Vulture crashes into a skyscraper 50 feet ahead of Miguel, and in the mad dash, he can see a man tumble out of the building head first to the ground from the 30th floor. 

Swinging forward, Miguel slings out a web from his palm, catching the screaming and sobbing office worker in midair and lands briefly against the windowpane. He ensures the man is secured to the building in a cocoon of webbing until the fire department can get him to safer grounds.

Miguel doesn't even get a second to catch his breath. From afar, he can pick up the sound of another window being crashed into by the unwieldy metal bird. 

Crap. 

It's impossible for Miguel to both chase the Vulture and keep everyone else in his path of destruction safe. One superhero can't be in two places at once (none that he has encountered).

Gritting his teeth, Miguel leaps off the building swinging freely into the air to make up on the lost ground between him and the metallic cuckoo bird.

He needs backup, and the backup is unfortunately running late.

Where is he? Why is he always late?

Does that man not understand that when someone calls for backup because of an emergency, the emergency part indicates that there's some urgency to it?

Flying through the air 100 feet above the ground, from the corner of his eyes, Miguel catches the familiar garish red flowing cape that billows from the cowl of the grand cloak and suit. 

Miguel would know that weird wizard get-up anywhere. 

"Strange!" Miguel calls out, and he can feel irritation rattle in his chest. "You're late! Where the shock were you?"

"The word you're looking for is 'fuck.' Where the fuck was I," the man responds with a sarcastic drawl.

Strange levitates through the air, effortlessly without expending any energy at all as he catches up with Miguel. "You gave me no notice. Be happy I showed up at all."

From a distance he sees the dumb bird soar high up into the sky and towards the all too familiar crowned roof of the Chrysler building. 

No. nononono. 

Why is he there? What is he doing there? Anywhere but there. 

His back flashes cold then burning hot as the Vulture makes a straight beeline for the familiar building.

It’s fine. Maybe he’s not going to fly in there. Maybe he’s just going to fly past it.

Miguel watches as the metallic bird soars up and up and up, past the midpoint of the building, past the 40th floor of your office and up to the 50th floor. The tight squeeze in his chest eases.

Then the vulture stops, mid-flight and looks down below, as if he changed his mind, before he descends again. 

Shit! Shit! SHIT!

He dives into one of the windows between the 40th and 50th floor. The sound of broken glass and shrill screams can be heard even from where Miguel is. 

Blood freezes in his veins and nausea overtakes him. Calm down. Breathe.. Maybe you’re not in. After all, Lyla’s security protocols would’ve been activated by now if you were. He would’ve been alerted. 

Soaring through the skies, Miguel reaches over to his wrist to punch in the dial for Lyla to check in and reassure himself you're safe. But his tracker blinks back in an alarming red, and he darts down his head towards the display.  

Error. 

His heart stops. 

The flying silhouette reappears through the shattered windows and the metallic harness strapped onto the vulture gleams bright against the sun.

It’s only then it hits him. Lyla's been deactivated by the madman's stupid Electro-Magnetic Harness. 

Why hadn't he foreseen that as a technical flaw?

Against the reflective glass panes, Miguel sees you, caught in the Vulture talons like a mouse captured by a large predatory bird. Every hair on his neck stands on end. His vision bleeds into red, blood roaring at the sight of it.

Kill him.

Miguel's gonna murder that freak for touching you. Crush his windpipe so he can't ever squawk again, then rip his throat out with his claws and feed it to the street pigeons for good measure.

Launching himself through the air, Miguel tears up the side of the building. The tempered glass beneath his claws and feet, shatters into sharp jagged pieces as he closes the distance. 

He is almost within reach. Only some 30 feet that still separates you from him. Leaping the final distance he slams hard into the side of the Vulture until metal crunches beneath his feet. 

Miguel roars until his throat burns with it. Palms gripping at the man’s jaw and prying it back to get at his bare throat. His fangs are ready to sink into the jugular. He can see the dark pupil of Vulture's eyes dilate with fear. 

Good. Miguel's anger will be the last thing this freak sees.

"Miguel calm down," Strange shouts at him from behind. "You're gonna knock her off."

Miguel freezes at the warning, forcing himself to hold still as he looks down to where you are dangling precariously from the Vulture's claws.

"Be ready," Strange shouts, and Miguel looks to him, not understanding what the hell he means. 

Strange rests his hand over the shiny blue gem hanging around a chain from his neck.

What does he mean by be ready? What is Strange going to do?

"What'd you mea–"

Miguel doesn't have a chance to finish the rest of his sentence. An unnatural force vibrates through him. A pulsating wave that pervades his senses, punching through his lungs and knocks him back. 

In an instance, you're propelled away from Strange and the Vulture, and you are freefalling towards the ground below.

Miguel leaps mid-air, arms outstretched to catch you as you plummet towards the ground below. His fingers clasps around your wrists, your warm skin against his fingertips.

He's got you!

Taking hold of you by the arm, Miguel pulls you into his chest as he wraps one arm securely around your waist.

Immediate relief fills him from the inside out as the adrenaline and the searing anger is already starting to fade now that he knows you're safe.

"You okay, nena?" he asks.

You nod, arms finding purchase around the back of his neck, and squeeze down tight. He swings you both to the safety of a nearby rooftop.

There's barely time for him to touch the surface, he hears the nearby explosion and sees Vulture crash into the concrete wall of the nearest building. 

Strange is levitating nearby, hands making wild gestures, presumably to perform some hocus pocus ritual. There’s a magical glow as strobes of light manifest out of thin air surrounding the Vulture from all sides and wrapping around him in a restraining bind.

Miguel sets you down. You're a little bit wobbly on your feet, and seeing you stumble the way you do has that protective streak spark anew in his chest.

Stupid Strange. He can't just do shit like that. 

What if Miguel hadn't reacted in time? What if you had fallen? 

This is why Miguel hates working with the guy, even if they’re friends. Always on his moral high horse about Miguel being reckless, then he pulls shit like this.

"Everyone alright?" Strange asks as he levitates through the sky to set feet close to you both on the rooftop.

Miguel grits his teeth with annoyance at the man’s casual demeanor when he nearly threw you out of the sky.

"Shock you, Strange," he spits out.

"Miggy..." you sigh in a reprimanding tone next to him. 

Stephen shakes his head at him. "I told you. It's fuck"

"Fuck you, Strange."

Sanctum Sanctorum is closer than home and Strange has, comfortable sofas in his ridiculously big mansion. Big enough sofas that Miguel can actually lounge in them comfortably without it feeling cramped. It's why, given the choice, he always prefer to regroup there, over your tiny apartment.

Besides, while the man's control over his magical powers can be suspect at times, he used to be a doctor. Supposedly one of the leading brain surgeons in the world, and Miguel is a lot more comfortable at the prospect of Strange giving you a checkover to make sure you don't need further medical attention than trying your luck at one of the local ERs.

"Follow my finger," Strange says as he shines a little flashlight into your eyes and moves his index from side to side. 

Your eyes follow him dutifully, and Strange proceeds with the rest of his medical check, asking you the boring standard questions. "Any symptoms of dizziness, lightheadedness, or a sense of vertigo?"

He fires them out in rapid succession, and a bit too perfunctory for Miguel's liking.

"Noticed any changes in your vision, blurriness or double vision, etcetera etcetera?"

Miguel's jaw tic in irritation at how Strange is putting in minimal effort and just going through the motions.

"Yeah, you're fine." Strange pats your knees, then whisks the flashlight away into nothingness with his cape.

That medical check wasn't anything close to thorough. Miguel crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you sure? Her feet were wobbly before, I wanted to make sure she didn't sprain her ankle."

"A little bit overprotective as always aren't we?" Strange says.

Miguel shoots the man a glare and Stephen sighs, "Her reflexes are fine, I don't think anything's sprained."

"Check again, you seemed sloppy," Miguel accuses.

"You know, I'm doing this as a favor because you’re a friend. Do you have any idea how much a medical examination by one of the leading neurological surgeons in the world would cost you normally?"

"I'll have Lyla transfer the money."

“No, it’s not actually about money just–" Stephen shakes his head, then sighs. "Nevermind.”

He gestures for you to drape your leg across his lap, then he reaches over to gently assess your ankle as requested.

"What is this necklace?" You ask. You lean closer to Strange, inspecting the blue gem where it rests against his chest.

Strange swats at your hand, the way an adult scolds a child with sticky chocolate smeared hands trying to touch the fine china.

"It's a protection amulet. When activated it forms a protective barrier that forcibly repels everything within ten feet of you."

"Huh," you reach back for the amulet undaunted by the earlier reprimand, fascinated and clearly enamored by it. "I'll give you fifty bucks for it."

Strange looks offended. "It's not for sale, and if it was it would certainly be worth a lot more than fifty dollars. It's a genuine magical artifact, not fake costume jewelry from the theater department."

You purse your lips, considering the amulet.

"Forty," you offer.

Miguel has to choke back a snorting laughter in his throat at the way Stephen's eyes goes wide in confused outrage.

"Wait, why is the price going down?"

“We’re in the middle of an economic crisis, Stephen,” you counter.  

Strange's head darts over to where Miguel sits, presumably for backup, but he's knocked on the wrong door. The man must be mad if he thinks that there is ever a world where Miguel would side against you.

"Strange, we both know it’s easier if you just give her the amulet." Miguel says. 

The man sighs, shaking his head in defeat.

"Be careful with it," he says as he drags the chain over his head to place it in your awaiting palms. "And don't lose it like the invisibility amulet with Mysterio. Had to spend a whole month clearing up your mess when that creep used it to get into the women's locker rooms at every local gym in Greenwich!"

"That wasn’t my mess! Miggy lost that one during an aerial fight. You can't blame that on me."

"You married him, so you're responsible for him. I consider you two jointly to blame."

"Now you're just lashing out," you shoot back.

Miguel watches the two of you in patient boredom, his head propped up by an elbow on the arm of the sofa. He expended way too much energy during the fight, and now he needs to refuel. 

If Miguel leaves you two to it, you'll spend an eternity bantering, the way you do. His stomach growls. He wants food. Wants wantons and beef ho fun and a dozen custard salted egg buns for dessert. And the longer you two are at it, the longer it's going to take for him to get it.

"Nena," he calls out, "I'm hungry. Are you two done? I want to go for dinner."

You shoot Miguel a quick smile, pulling out your wallet and take out a wad of green bills then fold it into Strange's hand with a happy grin.

Strange looks down at the crumpled up money in his hand. "Wait, you're only giving me thirty? I thought we said forty."

"You still owe me like ten bucks from mini golf last week."

Strange pockets the money with a grumble. "Unbelievable." 

“C’mon,” Miguel says as he stands up and gestures to the both of you with a curt nod of his head towards the door. “Let’s go. I’ll pay for dinner this time,” Miguel says, and that seems to abate Strange’s outrage somewhat as the man grabs your coat from the sofa cushions and offers it to you.

Life on Earth 383-D is strange.

Life here is borderline primitive. The technology is something out of the stone ages.

Social media is a wasteland. Reality TV is a dystopian concept. And he doesn't understand who Kardashian is or why everyone is obsessed with her and her family. 

He does like fax machines though. They are basically teleportation machines and it boggles him that the people of your dimension do not seem to understand its potential.

The one thing he will give this version of earth credit for is that the food here is nice. Everyone in his home dimension is too health conscious, and fried food has long been banned by the government for the long term damage it does to the cardiovascular system. 

He also likes the life that the two of you have built together here. You have a home in that tiny shoebox apartment. You have friends. Strange friends. Like the Doctor who flies around with the help of a magic cape and now practices the mystic arts after a gap year in Asia. A young girl whose main superpower is the ability to communicate with squirrels. Then there’s that ugly red-masked wise-cracking, katana-wielding maniac who never dies.

Sadly, your friends are not the only thing that is strange about your surroundings.

Miguel perches himself on top of the Chrysler building sitting hunched over on the ledge of the roof. He’s drained and bone-tired, chasing down a helicopter that had gone haywire and was hurtling towards your office building. 

Luckily Strange was able to assist and sent it through a magic portal to crash into the Atlantic without putting any lives at stake. 

"Just had to do some cleaning up," Strange says as he sets his boots back down on the ground. 

Miguel doesn't answer him, staring out at the city view and the setting sun as he takes a well earned breather for a moment or two. New York is a bit of a shit hole, but it does look pretty from a high viewpoint, especially when the sun is setting, Miguel has to give this city that.

It's silent between the two of them. Or at least it is until Strange decides to break it with a harkle of his throat. When Miguel doesn't react the man does it again, coughing discreetly in a clear attempt to get his attention.

Miguel doesn't say anything about the man's sore throat. He ran out of the lemon drops you bought him as snacks hours ago, but he does tilt his head up at the man.

"She's been getting into a lot of these incidents lately. More than usual, more than any normal human for it to be a coincidence" Strange says.

The whole of Miguel's back stiffens.

"Have you noticed the abnormal uptick in strange unexplainable supernatural occurrences lately? Indoor tornadoes. The rain of poisonous frogs outside of whole foods. A sinkhole appearing right next to the cafe your wife frequents."

Miguel doesn't love the insinuations. Even with his lips pressed tightly together, Miguel can feel the small muscle in his jaw flex like a nervous tic at the mention of it. Because yeah, he's noticed, kind of hard to miss when your wife's life is in constant peril at all hours of the day.

Ice storms in July that hit right outside your workplace. An inexplicable solar flare causing a blackout that had every single vehicle within a 5 miles radius go haywire in the dark near your apartment. A swarm of mutated mosquitoes with a venomous bite that chased you down Central Park. 

The incidents are occurring more frequently. They are also getting increasingly bizarre and dangerous.

No one can say it’s just bad luck when the daily occurrences around you are defying the very laws of nature itself. Something isn't right with the universe, and he's not sure what else there is to do except pretend that everything is still ok.

"What are you implying?" Miguel asks through gritted teeth. 

But for the first time in the years that Miguel has known him, Strange's talkativeness is nowhere to be found. He doesn't answer Miguel. He's smart that way, the clever bastard. Knows that if he says one wrong word, Miguel is going to unhinge his jaws like a feral alligator and snap at him. 

Strange has said what he needed for Miguel to know exactly what he's getting at. The man just meets his eyes with an intentional stare, not shying away from Miguel's glare.

It's not like the thought hasn't crossed Miguel's mind. Not like it hasn't been keeping him up at night, every night.

Even though you've always been accident prone and suffered from bad luck, at this point it's a mathematical impossibility that anyone would run into as many near death incidents as you have.

This isn't by chance. It's by design. Miguel's suspected as much for a while now. He just doesn't know whose design and why.

"It's not her fault," Miguel spits out.

"I never said it was."

"Even if what you are saying is true..." Miguel stops, and stares down at his fisted palms with a sinking feeling in his guts. "There's nothing she can do about it to stop it. You can't put that on her."

"Whether she knows about it or not, if it's true, none of this is going to go away.

Strange walks over to where Miguel is, sitting down next to him.

"It’s been escalating in severity," he continues. "There are strange universal energies attached to her. There’s warping of the universal order and space around her. We don't know how bad this can get, if we don’t do anything about this, it could unravel the fabric of reality itself."

Despite the calamity of what Strange is implying, his voice is even and calm as he says it as if he might as well be discussing the weather. That trait has always annoyed the shit out of Miguel.

"What are you planning to do if this continues?" Strange asks.

It's such a silly question. Strange says it as if this is a multiple choice question. But for Miguel there's only one correct answer. 

"Protect her. I have to. She's everything to me."

Miguel is staring into the sunset bu all he sees before him is your face even though you aren’t here. The happy smile that he wants to preserve forever. He tries to fight the ache that's building in him at the thought that it would go away.

"Strange, don't tell her. Please. She doesn't need that burden."

He fists his palms into his side.

Miguel never liked asking for help, but even he knows that if what Strange is saying is true. That if the universe for some unfathomable reason wants you dead, then he's going to need all the help he can get.

If Strange has figured it out. Then it's only a matter of time before others do as well.

Soon enough, you won't just have the universe coming after you but every superhero and villain combined in a united front to take out the common threat that you pose to this entire universe.

Even Miguel knows he can't do this alone and as much as that helplessness tastes like failure and bile in his throat, he can swallow his pride if it helps keep you safe.

"Stephen, you have to help me save her."

From behind, Strange rests one hand on the corner of his shoulder. The weight of it feels like a promise being made. For the first time in a long time, Miguel feels like he can breathe just a little bit easier.

"I will do what I can, my friend."

Weeks go by. There are more incidents. Runaway vehicles that go haywire. Electrical storm fires. Rain of poisonous locusts. 

Somehow he manages to protect you from it all. 

It just means that he has to be more vigilant, that's all. The universe doesn't rest and neither does Miguel now. Lyla has been set on constant alert to wake him up whenever he's napping at any small signs of abnormal occurrences happening near you, with an electric shock to make sure he wakes. Something the A.I. is taking a worryingly amount of glee in (which probably means he needs to retune her programming when he has time).

And today, today Miguel was meant to have a Sunday lie in. Universe be willing, his goal was to sleep all the way into the late afternoon and then you had promised to take him to IHOP and get him all the pancakes he could eat for late breakfast.

But right now he's not asleep. He's trying to. But there are hushed words and whispered murmurs, buzzing in his ear that keeps trying to drag him away from sleep.

It's you and Strange.

Judging from the distance of the noises, you're both standing outside in the hall. The fact that you two are trying to be quiet makes it worse. If you'd spoken in normal volume he could tune it out as white noise, but the conspiratorial quietness of it all makes the hair on the back of his neck tingle with alertness.

Fuck's sake. He swears to god if you two are gossiping and making fun of Hercules’ costume (or the lack of it) again.

It's too early for this crap. Don't you two know that people are trying to sleep? He was up all night chasing crazy Kraven worshippers releasing animals from the Brooklyn zoo. Miguel had to gather wild zebras and crocodiles all the way down East Village til 4am.

With a groan, he drags himself halfway up along the mattress, about to go and growl at you both to be quiet, when the cluttered noises register as words and the fuzziness of sleep clears momentarily.

"He'd destroy this world for you."

Huh? What are you two talking about?

Miguel's too groggy to make sense of the context of what's being said. Even with his super hearing he has to focus to make out the words.

"You can't let him."

Irritated, he gets out of bed and walks to the front door to swing it open. The first thing he sees is you standing with Strange in the hallway. You jump at the suddenness and look up at him with wide eyes.

You have the worst poker face of anyone he's ever seen in his life.

"What are you two jabbering on about this damn early?" he asks.

He'd expected the two of you to act coy, maybe a clever 'wouldn't you like to know' retort back from the Mystic. Instead, Strange's face is entirely inscrutable, tone serious as he responds.

"We were just catching up. Nothing important. I need to head back," Strange says, then he turns to you with a meaningful tilt to his head. "Think about what I said."

"What was that about?" Miguel asks you as he watches Strange step through a portal and disappear.

You don't say anything. There's a worried frown etched between your eyebrows as you bite down on your lip.

Something crawls under Miguel's skin at the whole interaction.

You're oddly quiet the whole afternoon. Deep in thought and walking around as if in a daze, which unsettles him.

It's not difficult for him to guess what's wrong. He might have been half asleep when you and Strange were whispering in the corridors, but Miguel can put one and one together. Having two PHDs and a lifetime's experience of working in theoretical physics gives you that leg up.

In a last ditch effort to get you out of the uncharacteristic blues, he orders a dozen of your favorite cupcakes from that tiny shop in New Jersey. It costs an arm and a leg to have it couriered, but it'll be worth it if it makes you smile. 

Then he sits down next to you on the bed and places the pink pastry box down on the mattress. It's your favorite place to eat cakes and it’s why you two always end up with crumbs and frosting all over the sheets.

You happily cram half a cupcake into your mouth in one bite as you eat, and he watches you contently. If there was any fairness in the world, this quiet idyllic moment could last forever. In a good world, Miguel wouldn’t have to burst this perfect bubble. 

Sadly, this world is neither fair nor good sometimes. 

"Strange said something to you right?" Miguel asks. 

You still next to him, clearly torn between whether or not to share what was said to you, probably in secret with the very intention of being kept away from him. 

“Nena,” Miguel tries again, and you close your eyes taking a deep breath, caving into his prodding. 

"Strange thinks that my incidents might be correlated with the strange natural occurrences lately."

That fucking asshole. He knew it. Irritation pings across his jaw, and Miguel bites it down. He tries to reel it, forcing back the rant that wants to surface. Instead he tries to focus on you instead of his own anger. 

"We don't know that. It could just be a series of coincidences," Miguel tells you. 

You nod, but Miguel's not an idiot and neither are you. He can see the worry creasing your eyes as you look down to your lap. 

Putting down the cupcake, he reaches over and links his right hand with yours. 

"Nena, don't worry.” He cups his free hand over your cheek to drag you up to meet his eyes.

“I'll fight the whole universe to keep you safe if I have to. Nothing's ever going to harm you so long as I'm here. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. You're the most important thing to me."

You smile at him at the words, but there's a wistfulness to it that embeds a dull ache in his chest that he wants to physically rub away to make it stop.

You lean into his touch, until your forehead presses up against his and the physical touch blunts the ache in him for a moment, putting it on pause. 

"You’re the most important to me too," you say.

The sky itself cracks open not long after. 

It doesn’t take the combined forces and intellect of the entire world too long to hone in on you being the root cause. Soon enough every superhero, mutant, villain and alien starts coming after you. Because hero or villain alike, no one truly wants their world to end, not if it’s not on their terms. 

Mysterio tries to kidnap you by the elevator in your apartment building. The Human Torch even tries to burn the whole building down. The Punisher tries to murder you point blank outside your office.

Miguel can’t remember the last time he slept. He’s running on fumes. Day after day, he feels like he’s getting by on borrowed time. 

The friends and allies you have thin out fast as the threats to the world increase in severity. Miguel never imagined having Deadpool standing outside his door stating that the life of one single person cannot outweigh the universe itself. 

It’s all so stupid. None of them know what they’re talking about. A lynching mob with their torches and pitchforks. Never stopping to think whether harming you could trigger something much worse.

If Strange is right and you are the knot at the center of the fabric of reality that is coming apart, then ripping that out leaves a hole. Miguel gave up on explaining that fairly quickly because he realized that theoretical consequences doesn’t matter to an angry mob scared of facing the reality of extinction. 

It all becomes a blur. 

Exhaustion eats into his bones, until he can no longer tell the days apart. No matter how many times he saves you, disaster is always waiting just around the corner. 

And now he’s chasing down the Green Goblin to the top of the Chrysler building from the 61st floor, where the green freak has cornered you to the edge of the rooftop.

Miguel is already out of breath, running away from the coalition of superheroes and villains that are hot on his heels, trying to stop him from saving you. 

Adrenaline beats fast in his veins as he keeps running. Miguel is only able to make out those in pursuit in brief glimpses. The bright blue spandex suit of Reed Richards as his freakishly long elastic limbs stretch towards him. The blocks of metal hurtling towards Miguel, missing by inches and crashes into the side of a building as Magneto’s form hovers nearby. 

He ignores them all, not sparing a glance behind him. He just has to keep moving. It doesn't matter that his muscles scream and burn in exhaustion. Doesn't matter that his head dulls with a heavy ache from lack of sleep. He has to keep going for you. Has to save you.

He's so close, he's almost there.

From the corner of his eyes, he makes out the familiar garish red flowing cape fluttering against the blue sky.

Strange.

Miguel marginally relaxes, at the sight of the sole ally he has left in this universe. He leaps across the rooftop, into the temporary safety of the observatory deck.

His feet doesn't even reach the ground. Something restrains him from behind. Bright lights materialize out of thin air. It wraps around Miguel's limb with the strength of unbreakable manacles, hugging him so tight it restricts the flow of blood to his fingers. Then he’s brought down to his knees. 

Miguel whips his head back and Strange stands there, hands formed in a holding gesture.

“What are you–”

"I'm sorry," Strange says.

Miguel snarls at his restraints, wrenching and twisting in every direction he is able to even with the limited range of motion, but it's to no avail. The harder he struggles the more forceful the restraints seem to close in on him, mirroring his strength.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this. I really hoped there was another way but every life in the whole of the universe is at stake, Miguel."

Hot burning anger spears through him, and if he could he would raze it all to the ground with it. This place, this world and this fucking traitor standing there can all fucking burn. Miguel is gonna kill him. He's gonna kill this fucking bastard. He can't believe he trusted him.

“Strange, fucking let me… Stephen!”

He hears your pained shout and snaps his head towards the sound.

Miguel is only ten feet away from you. Ten measly feet from where the Green Goblin is holding you by the ledge of the rooftop. He can still reach you, if he can get free he can still save you. 

Tearing through the magical binds, there’s a bone-cracking sound in his shoulder. Searing pain spreads through his arm. For all his struggles, he doesn't know if he’s even an inch closer towards you. 

He watches you drop from the ledge. 

It's a pin drop moment where everything stops. His heart is no longer beating. 

No. This can't be how it ends.

He's moving forward, even as the sharp restraints digs into his limbs and flesh and burrows in with an excruciating ache. But the pain doesn't matter. All that matters is you.

It claws into him, and digs and tears, until he is sure that his entire limbs are going to be torn off, but he doesn't stop, keeps pulling against the resisting strength that surrounds him, rips against the hindrance embracing every ounce of the pain until finally, the pressure gives.

There's a cacophony of sound that's left behind him as he leaps through the air. He slingshots downwards, cutting through air as he tries to reach you.

Miguel catches your hand and relief fills his chest.

"I got you. I got you," he murmurs. He's not sure if those words are to calm you or himself.

Pulling you up in defiance of the pull of gravity, he tries to haul you up towards him. Your hand squirms in his, and if you keep going you're going to slip out of his grasp.

"Nena, don't move," he shouts in alarm, but you don't stop, twisting in all directions, making it harder for him to get a better grip.

What're you– You're resisting against his strength, why would you...

It hits him with a sickening realization.

You don' want him to save you.

"Stop!" he shouts. “Stop!”

You shake your head, tears filling the corner of your eyes that flow upwards and everything is upside down to him. 

"We’re out of time. You have to let me go,” you say. 

His fingers squeeze down even harder at your words, refusing to hear it. 

“There's still time. There are still other options. I can still save you!” 

Your hand reaches for the amulet pressed against your collarbone. Dread floods every nerve in his body as he sees your fingers squeeze around it.

"No!" He shouts. Screams it so loud it burns in his lungs. But deep down he knows it's not going to make any difference. "Nena, don't!"

The wind whips too loudly against his face. The sound of your heart pounding so painfully hard in his ear that it's deafening and he knows that sound will haunt him forever. 

You're scared.

He sees your lips move, but he can't hear what you're saying.

But he's heard these words so many times before from your lips that he knows them by heart. 

''I love you.''

An invisible force blasts away at him, it shatters through him through his limbs and torso into the very soft tissue of his stomach and makes his teeth shake. He's propelled upwards, unable to control his movements or defy the gravity that he's learned to navigate after all these years mid-air.

He holds on as hard as he can to your hand, but it doesn't matter. His fingers slip, his grip is lost.

You're falling through the sky.

Miguel doesn't remember much after that.

Somehow he makes it back onto the ground.

Somehow he finds you amongst the cracked dirty concrete. 

Somehow, despite falling from over a 100 feet your body is still intact where it lies lifeless on the ground.

Your bones are broken though. Body limp and soft in his arms in a way that has never felt more wrong to him. His only consolation is that you're still warm in his arms, and he thinks that maybe if he just doesn't let go, if he holds you tightly pressed to him the way he is doing now, it'll remain that way forever.

The sky has cleared above. There are no cracks in the azure blue canvas.

This world is saved. 

His world has ended. 

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To @thirstworldproblemss who has been with me on this journey since chapter one without her enthusiasm and her companionship and friendship and listening to my wild ramblings about this story, I would never have set out to write this thing. She gave me so much joy in the process, she also gave me her time and her skills and brainy talent to help me process and brainstorm this into a shape that I was excited to share with you all! You also have her to thank for that devastating last line.

@guruan who has been a constant well of inspiration with her amazing art, her bright sense of humor and her sharing of theories of what's going to happen! You've made writing this story so much fun!

Author's note: Here we go guys, we've officially entered the final arc now. With only three chapters to go! I am so excited to share the remaining puzzle pieces with you all!

[rainbowgod666]

(Opens up the mods folder like i am minecraft) (BUT THEN AGAIN i have autism so indeed i am the minecraft)

So. We have things here.

Specifications:

Monika is basically the concept that all people of a gender have a part thats the opposite, and of course i get the file girl uwu

Bill has "dealmaking" as one of the things I can do because... how the fuck do you think i made the knights? I dont take much in return, i just need them to beat tf out of people

The Alternate splicing was needed lmao

And if Alien X is here, may i also remind you of ONE MORE BOY that allows me to "code shit around"

OC DNA for Monster Researcher Eclair! Her original characterization was a lot more subdued and demure. Nagato Yuki-esque. Eventually she sort of ended up being much more proactive and earnest. Anyway you can find the original template here!

[allthingsimagines]

Multiverse Parenting

Summary: One day when you’re swinging around New York a little girl falls from a portal from the sky. She asks you to help her find her dad, but how are you supposed to do that when he’s the Spider-Man of a different universe?

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This was based off an idea a few weeks ago by @twentysomethingwereyote ! Thank you for the amazing idea!

Original request: “Gabriella gets teleported to Earth-1218 or one similar to it and it’s up to the reader to somehow access the multiverse to get her home.”

Part Two

It had been a fairly normal day until everything flipped on its head in Manhattan. You’d been Spider-Woman for three years now and everyday came with its challenges. Managing bills piling up and dealing with the bizarre villains that popped up.

That’s New York for you.

You’d been swinging around casually on your day off from work. You swung around the corner of the Empire State Building when suddenly you noticed a flash of bright colors in the middle of the sky. Your eyes widened, what the hell?

The sky was literally glitching out. Well, this was new.

Then a sharp scream rang out and all of your senses lit up. A little girl flew through the mess of glitching colors and straight toward the ground.

You dove off the side of the building without hesitation and shot towards her. You quickly grabbed her into your arms and held her tightly to you. You shot a web out quickly to the closest building and swung towards the roof. The girl clung to you tightly and sobbed. Your heart clenched at the sight, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you kid.”

You landed on top of the building and looked back at the sky to find the glitch that the girl had fallen out of was gone now. You set the little girl down as she continued to cry. She looked to be around ten and had brown hair pulled into a ponytail.

You bent down to her level and placed a comforting hand on her back and rubbed it to soothe her, “Hey, what’s your name?”

She sniffed and took a shuddering breath, “Gabriella.”

You realized the mask wasn’t helping you to calm her down since she literally just dropped from a hole in the sky. You took a moment to nervously ponder whether taking it off was worth it.

“Are-Are you like Spider-Man? My dad is Spider-Man in my ho-home,” She said, wiping her tears away.

You felt relief flood you as you resigned to take your mask off. You pulled it from your head and smiled at her, “Yeah, my name is Y/N. They call me Spider-Woman here.”

She nodded and you could tell the similarity between you and her dad helped her relax. You sighed at the realization that you had no clue how to get her home.

“What’s your dad’s name?” You asked her and she shuffled back and forth on her feet.

“Miguel O’Hara,” She said softly.

You’d definitely never heard that name before. You had no clue how to get to another dimension and it was going to take a lot of brain power to get this girl home.

You smiled gently at her and squeezed her shoulder. Her scared eyes looked up at you, “I know this is all scary and confusing. I’m sorry you ended up here, but just know that your dad is doing everything he can to get back to you.”

“My dad calls me ‘todo su mundo’ it means ‘his whole world’. I miss him a lot,” She said and her eyes filled with tears again.

“Gabriella, I’m going to do everything I can to get you back to your dad, okay?” You said, trying to comfort her as much as you could.

You held your hand up with your pinky out and you caught the smallest smile on her face as she nodded and looped her pinky around yours. You stood up and sighed, “I think you should stay with me until I can find a way to get you to your dad. I live with my Aunt May and let me tell you, she makes the best cookies ever.”

Gabriella smiled as she looked up at you, “Really?”

You beamed at her and ruffled her hair, “Oh totally. She’s the best cook in Queens. She’ll make whatever you want I swear.”

You pulled the mask over your head and picked her up on your hip. She wrapped her arms around your neck and tucked her head into it. You held her tightly to you and shot a web before jumping off and heading towards Queens.

You hoped to god Miguel O’Hara was out there looking for his daughter too.

Three years had passed since you’d had any experience of the multiverse. Gabriella was now fourteen and a sophomore in high school. She was an extremely bright girl and excelled in school and sports. She was the star soccer player and you and Aunt May always attended her games to cheer her on, well when you could with Spider-Woman business.

Your search for how to get Gabi back to her universe had never come up with any leads. She had literally just dropped from the sky, like goddamn Chicken Little. There was no Miguel O’Hara in your universe either for you to try to rely on.

You wanted her to get back to her dad as you could tell it still ate her alive not knowing what happened to him. But, she had also become like a daughter to you.

The superhero life didn’t leave much time for relationships. How many people on earth would ever be able to understand how much sacrifice and hardship it took to protect the city each day? But, that girl did.

She understood how much her dad, and now you, had to sacrifice to keep the city safe. She was a great kid and you were happy for her to be in your life.

You were in the midst of having a movie night with her. You lounged next to her on the couch as she leaned against your shoulder.

“So, they just decided to make dinosaurs ‘cause they could? Isn’t that a stupid idea?” She questioned and you laughed.

“That’s kinda the whole point. Humanity is bound to destroy itself if given the chance,” You said with a shrug.

“The dinosaurs are a genetic disaster. It’s wrong to bring them back,” She said with a smirk and you threw a hand over your heart dramatically.

“Woah! From a genetic disaster themselves that is rude,” You teased her as your watch lit up.

You had crafted a watch to track crimes and keep you updated on the going ons of the city. Much better than a walkie talkie. You pulled your arm out from behind her shoulders and checked the notification, “Santa mierda.”

Gabi pointed at you and grinned, “Aunt May would have your head for that mom.”

You stood up from the couch and swore to yourself as you rushed to change into your suit.

“What’s wrong? Mom?” Gabi questioned as you sped back into the room in your full suit.

“Goblins out. He’s supposed to still be stuck in a maximum security cell in the Raft. I’ve gotta go before he tears up Manhattan,” You said as you moved over to her and grabbed her shoulders gently.

You smiled at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I love you mi ángel. I’ll be home when it’s done, but you need to stay here with May. It’s not gonna be safe in the city tonight.”

She nodded and pulled you into a tight hug. You sighed and rubbed her back to comfort her. You pulled away and smiled before pulling on your mask and rushing out the window.

You swung as fast as you could across the city. There’d been no reports of a break out from the Raft, so how the hell had he got free? You swung towards the Brooklyn Bridge as you saw bombs coming from the sight. You swore to yourself as you zipped towards the bridge and Green Goblin came into view.

What the hell? That was not the Green Goblin you knew.

He looked so weird. Almost like a devil or a guy in a strange Halloween costume. Either way that was not the guy locked up in the Raft.

“I don’t know who you are, but I already put one or your asses in the Raft,” You said as you swung towards him and landed a kick to his jaw.

He went flying and crashed into the wall behind him. He looked up and growled at you, “You’re not Peter Parker.”

You scoffed as you began to web him up, “No shit. Now can we hurry this up. I've got a movie night to get back to.”

You continued to fight this Goblin and you had him pinned down until you noticed a flash of bright lights above you. Your eyes widened as you noticed a portal opening up, just like the one that day.

“What the hell?” You said before Goblin shot a bomb at you and you flew backwards.

You smacked your head hard against the concrete and groaned, “It can never be easy.”

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position and watched three people come out of the portal. Your senses lit up and your head felt fuzzy until you realized that these people were Spider people as well. One woman rode in on a motorcycle, another came in with a guitar, and the last one was just an imposing man. They were quick to take down Goblin and contain him as you dusted yourself off and walked over. “So, are you guys Spider-Man too? I’m Y/N L/N.”

Goblin banged against his brightly colored cell as they turned to you. The woman smiled and folded her arms over her chest, “Yeah, I’m Jessica Drew. Spider-Woman too.”

She was very obviously pregnant and so much cooler than you. You grinned under the mask, “God it’s good to have another woman around. Y’Know basically all of my villains are guys. We gotta mix it up around here.”

She laughed at you and your eyes moved to the one with the guitar. He cocked his hip and chuckled, “Hobie Brown. Power to the people.”

You nodded and laughed, “I like it. Very anti-establishment of you.”

He nodded and folded his arms across his chest as your attention turned to the last one. He was a very tall and broad man in a futuristic blue suit. He stayed silent and you raised your brow, “What’s your name? Michael Myers?”

Jessica snorted and Hobie didn’t even bother to hide his laughter. The man grunted and folded his arms across his chest, “Miguel.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Miguel was a common enough name, but a Spider-Man named Miguel? You stepped closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest, “Last name?”

He obviously rolled his eyes even if you couldn’t see it with the mask, “What is this? An interrogation?”

You had hope that maybe he could be the dad your daughter had been searching for. You stepped closer and narrowed your eyes, “Last name.”

He stepped chest to chest with you and glared down, “O’Hara.”

You felt your heart stop and you stumbled back a few steps, “Holy fuck.”

You put your hands on your knees and closed your eyes as you tried to take calming breaths. This was your daughter's father. Gabi would have her dad again. You looked back up at him and rushed over and grabbed his arm, “Did you have a daughter?”

He physically recoiled at the question and stepped back, “What?”

No one had ever asked about his little girl. Few even knew that he had a daughter and now some random woman from a different universe was asking about her. Miguel glared down at you as his heart pounded against his chest.

You could practically see his defenses go up at your questioning, but you swallowed your fears and stepped towards him again, “Was your daughter named Gabriella? You called her ‘todo su mundo’.”

Miguel felt physically shaken by your words. His heart dropped to his stomach. There was no way. He’d seen her disappear from his arms. So, how did you know the nickname he had for his daughter?

Miguel rushed towards you and tightly grasped your arms,“How do you know that?”

You smiled under the mask and tears welled in your eyes at the knowledge that you had finally found her father. You grabbed his hands and squeezed them, “Because Gabi fell through a portal just like that three years ago. Your daughter is alive, Miguel.”

Miguel fell to his knees and began to cry. His daughter was alive and safe? He bent his head to the ground and clenched his fists as he tried to calm himself down.

You dropped to your knees next to him and placed a hand on his back and rubbed it, much like you’d always done for Gabi, “I’ve been taking care of her as my own for the last few years. You’d be so proud of the girl she’s grown up to be.”

Miguel sat up as he took deep breaths and he lifted his head to meet your eyes, “Thank you, for taking care of her.”

You smiled at his words. Gabi had been the best to ever happen to you. You sniffled as you did your best to hold your own tears back, “I’m grateful for her everyday.”

Miguel let out a shaky breath before he pushed himself to his feet. You quickly stood up and had to crane your neck to look up at him as he asked, “Can I see her?”

Your heart broke at the sight of him. This was a man who had clearly never stopped looking for his kid and he wanted her back. You looked around at the disaster around you and sighed before you met his eyes again, “I think it’s best to do this tomorrow. I need to talk to her and give her time to process this.”

Miguel looked ready to put up a fight at your words. You quickly grabbed his hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze, “I know you want to see her now, but she needs time and so do you. There’s no need to rush this.”

Miguel bit his lip to hold in his frustration at your words. He wanted everything to go great when he saw his daughter again and as upset as the thought made him- you knew her better now than he did. Miguel nodded and let go of your hands,“I understand.”

You smiled and let out a shaky breath, “I can take her to you tomorrow. Is there a way I can meet you?”

Miguel looked back and held his hand out. Jessica tossed a watch similar to your own and he caught it before offering it to you. You took the watch from him and slipped it onto your free wrist. He took your hand in his and pressed a button, “Hit this and scroll until you see Earth-928, that’s headquarters.”

You shook your head and laughed at his words, “Headquarters? This feels like S.H.I.E.L.D., like a super secret superhero club.”

Miguel shook his head at you, but secretly smiled to himself. If his daughter could have ended up with anyone, a witty Spider-Woman from another universe wasn’t the worst possibility.

“Open the portal and come there at eleven,” He said, quickly showing you how to do it yourself.

“It’s a date,” You said without thinking and your cheeks lit up.

Miguel watched you in amusement as you became clearly very embarrassed at your own words. You folded your arms across your chest defensively and cursed, “No! Not like that. Ah, mierda you know what I meant.”

Miguel laughed at you and felt a pull towards your demeanor. Like all of the other Spider-Men, aside from himself, you had a good sense of humor and for once it didn’t completely annoy him. Miguel softly smiled at you before he surprised even himself by pulling you into a tight hug.

Your cheeks lit up again because from everything you had picked up about him hugs were definitely not in his repertoire. His grumpy demeanor did not scream that he was a hug guy, so you were going to take this as a success. Miguel stepped back, remembering himself as he cleared his throat and looked down at you, “Thank you for taking care of my little girl.”

You smiled at him and nodded, “I love her as my own. I’ll talk to her tonight and get her ready, okay?”

Miguel nodded and you backed away as you checked to make sure Goblin was all taken care of. You smiled at the group and saluted them, “Thanks for taking care of that weirdo! Can’t have more Green Goblins running around.”

You looked at Miguel one last time before you shot a web and swung away. The whole trip home felt like a blur as you fretted about how she would respond. You were glad you had found her dad, but did this mean she’d never come back? Would she visit you still? Would Miguel be okay with you still being her mom? You were the only person she’d ever called mom.

You landed in an alley near your apartment and quickly changed out of the suit before heading home. You took the elevator up in your building and let out a sigh to calm yourself before you unlocked the door.

Gabi was sitting at the kitchen table working on a painting, but her head snapped to the door as she noticed you come in. You let out a sigh as you kicked your shoes off, “You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

She dropped her brush and rushed to your side and tackled you in a hug. You let out a sigh and smiled as you hugged her back, “Hey kiddo.”

She pulled away from you and you brushed her dark hair from her tired eyes, “Why’re you still up? It’s way past your bedtime.”

She rolled her eyes at your teasing, “Can’t I just be worried about my mom?”

You nodded and sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of having to tell her the news. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder and led her to the couch, “We need to talk hun.”

Gabi tensed at your words as you sat on the couch. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders as she asked, “Am I in trouble?”

You shook your head and squeezed her shoulder, “You know, I am grateful everyday that I get to be your mom and that you came into my life. I wouldn’t change anything for the world.”

Gabi leaned into your hold as her cheeks lit up and she smiled. You bit your lip to hold back the wave of emotion threatening to crash over you, “But I can’t imagine how hard it was for your dad to lose his daughter and for you to be away from him.”

Gabi quickly scrubbed at her eyes and nodded. You pulled away from her and put your hand on the side of her face as you tried to smile as comfortingly as possible, “Gabi, I found your dad.”

Her face paled and she grabbed onto you, “Mom- I don’t understand- what?”

You smiled comfortingly and you scooted closer to her, “I met your dad tonight. He came from your universe with a few other Spider-Men.”

She then broke down into tears and clutched onto you like a lifeline. You held her tightly to you as she sobbed. After a few minutes she looked up at you with puffy eyes, “Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”

You pushed her hair out of her eyes and squeezed her shoulder in support, “He wanted to angel, but I think you both needed time to process this. You’re getting your dad back and he’s getting his daughter.”

She nodded in understanding and you sent her a small smile, “Besides he was still in his suit and could probably use a shower before you had to give him tons of hugs. By the way, was he always a grump?”

Gabi laughed and nodded, “Yeah, he was always really grumpy with other people. But, it’s all a lie. He’s a softie.”

You smiled at her words, that made more sense rather than the stoic demeanor he put on. She looked at you hopefully, “When can I see him?”

“We’ll meet him in some Spider-Man HQ tomorrow at eleven. But if that’s too soon I can go and tell him you need time, just say the word,” You said as you tightened your hold around her shoulders.

“It’s not that. It’s just, when I go back to him will I still be able to see you? Of course I want to be with my dad, but you’re my mom too. I don’t wanna leave you,” she said as she tucked herself further into your side.

It was your biggest fear too. She was your kid now and you didn’t want to let her go either. You smiled wistfully and kissed her forehead, “Don’t worry about it tonight. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow, I swear.”

The next morning you and Gabi both nervously stood in the living room as it neared eleven. She fretted over herself as she fixed her hair again for the thousandth time. You smiled as you squeezed her shoulders and then pressed a kiss to the side of her head, “Don’t worry, he still loves you. You’re still todo su mundo, I promise love.”

She nodded and squeezed your hand on her shoulder, “Thanks, I love you mom.”

You took her hand into your own and smiled at her before pulling your mask over your face, “I love you too. Ready to go?”

She nodded and you held up your watch and pressed the button. You then scrolled to Earth-928 and hit the button to open a portal. A burst of colors appeared in front of you and you both looked at each other in awe. You squeezed her hand in yours before you both stepped into the portal.

You gripped your hand in yours as you tumbled through an inter dimensional tube. Then suddenly you both landed in a different universe. Your eyes quickly moved to Gabi and gave her a quick once over to make sure she was alright before turning your attention to the world around you.

Holy shit.

There were flying cars, buildings going into the clouds, and there were only spider people here. This place was filled to the brim with every kind of Spider Person you could possibly think of. Gabi had a look of wonder in her eyes as she looked around at the world in front of her.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Jessica standing there with a bright smile on her face. Jessica walked up to you and you smiled in relief, “Jessica. It’s good to see at least someone here that I know.”

She nudged your shoulder and laughed, “You can call me Jess. I think we’ll be seeing enough of each other that we’ll be friends.”

You nodded with a smile before her attention turned to Gabi and her eyes softened. She met your eyes again and you could see the sympathy in her eyes for what you were feeling, from one mom to another.

“Come on, I’ll take you to his place. He’s waiting for you two,” She said and then began walking further into HQ.

You both followed behind her as she led you through a maze of hundreds of different Spider People. You could tell Gabi was in awe of the sights around her, but her nerves were eating her alive. You held her hand tightly in your own to keep her grounded as you finally began to move away from the crowds.

You reached what looked like a residential wing of sorts as Jess led you into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. The ride to the top gave you a great view of this world, but you were nervous for Gabi to meet her dad. She was still a kid when he last saw her and now she was growing into an amazing young woman.

The elevator reached the top and you came face to face with the door to his apartment. Jess stayed in the elevator, but gave you both a comforting smile, “Good luck.”

You nodded in thanks before you both walked up to the door. You squeezed Gabi’s hand and she looked up at you, “I’ve got you. No matter what happens next.”

She nodded and you dropped her hand to let her do this on her own. You pulled your mask from your head and shoved it in your pocket as she raised her hand and knocked on the door. The door swung open and Miguel stood in front of you now with no suit and in casual clothes.

He looked so much like his daughter.

Gabi’s eyes watered as she reached out for him, “Dad? Is it really you?”

Miguel nodded, clearly choked up, “Gabi, my little girl, look at you.”

Gabi burst into tears and jumped into her dads awaiting arms. Miguel pulled her into his arms and held his daughter to him.

This made everything worth it. Gabi finally had her dad back. You’d done it.

They continued to hug for a while until Miguel let out a half laugh and sob as he looked at his daughter, “God, look at you. You’re a beautiful young woman now.”

Gabi smiled at her dad as she wiped away her tears, “And now you’re old and grumpy.”

Miguel laughed at his daughter and clearly this was the happiest he’d been in years. Miguel finally moved his eyes to you and you felt a little out of place being here. Gabi reached towards you and grabbed your hand and pulled you forward, “Dad, this is my mom, Y/N. She’s been there for me ever since I landed in her universe.”

You met Miguel’s eyes and you both seemed to stop.

Wow, he was really good looking.

The intimidating demeanor he had previously only added to your attraction. He had dark tousled hair and a jawline that looked like it was cut by the gods.

Miguel was taken aback by you. Out of all of the thousands of Spider People he’d recruited, none of them held a candle to you. You were beautiful. You were a kind person and a good one. Oh he was in for it.

“Hey Miguel. Nice to see you without the mask and everything,” You said, trying to keep your embarrassment to a minimum.

Miguel nodded and you swore his own cheeks looked a little pink, “Thanks again, for everything.”

Gabi looked between the two of you with a mischievous look written all over her face. You narrowed your eyes at her, oh god what was she up to. Miguel opened the door to his apartment and you followed Gabi in and she looked around in wonder at all the futuristic technology.

His apartment didn’t seem homey. It was huge, but it was lonely. It was missing his daughter.

You looked around as Gabi and Miguel sat down to talk when you noticed a picture of Miguel and a little girl. You walked over to the frame and picked it up. The picture was of Gabi as a little girl shoving an ice cream cone into Miguel’s face as he smiled lovingly at your daughter.

“Do you have any pictures of her as a baby?” You blurted out without thinking.

You turned to face them and Miguel had an eyebrow raised at you. You flushed, slightly embarrassed for just speaking without thinking as Miguel sat next to Gabi with his arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve always wondered what she looked like as a baby. Y’know since I’ve never seen her that young,” You said and Gabi rolled her eyes.

“Mom, you’re just gonna use those to embarrass me,” Gabi teased you with a smile.

You set the frame down and went over to her and pressed a kiss to her, “I’m pretty sure that’s in the job description.”

“Yeah, I’ve got them back here,” Miguel said as he stood and began walking down the hallway.

You quickly followed after him then he suddenly stopped in front of a closet. You stumbled into him and he grabbed your arm to stabilize you. You met his eyes and bit your lip and shyly stepped away, “Sorry.”

Miguel opened the closet and reached into the back and pulled out two large scrapbooks. He placed the old large scrapbooks in your hands and you smiled up at him, “Can’t say I would’ve chalked you up as the scrapbooker type. I’m very impressed.”

Miguel shut the door and leaned against it, “Well, I’m a single dad what can I say. There’s plenty you don’t know about me.”

“Well at least one of her parents has to be good at it. I can hardly do anything creative that isn’t tech related. Worst soccer mom ever,” You said as you pulled the books to your chest.

Miguel smiled at you.

What? It was a smile just for you, but kind of in a teasing way? He was way too hot to be doing things like this. You were starting to get mixed signals from him. First he was stoic and grumpy and now he was charming and making scrapbooks.

He was also your daughter's father. That made everything far more complicated.

“Thanks Miguel,” You said before you headed back to the living room and sat down next to Gabi.

She leaned into your shoulder and whispered, “He’s totally into you.”

Your eyes widened and you checked to make sure Miguel was still in the hallway. You pressed a finger to her mouth and shook your head, “Nope. Nada. Zip. Don’t even start on this.”

Miguel sat down on her other side and the two began talking as you tried to keep your heated cheeks from view. You opened the book in front of you and began to look through it. There were so many photos of her as a baby and you couldn’t help but to feel devastated at the possible loss of your daughter.

Why would Miguel let her stay with you? How was she supposed to manage traveling through different universes and maintain a normal teenage life?

You flipped through the pages, holding your bottom lip firmly between your teeth in fear of losing the best thing you’d ever had. You wanted her to have a relationship with her dad, but that didn’t mean you wanted her gone forever.

You gently set the books on the table after flipping past a picture of Gabi as a little girl with a replica of her dad’s mask pulled over her head. You stood from your spot on the couch and mustered up your best smile, but not meeting either of their eyes, “Sorry, I just need some air.”

“Mom? You okay?” Gabi asked with a worried voice.

You knew if you met her eyes you’d lose all of your self control and burst into tears. You nodded and headed towards the balcony door, “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

You opened the door, shot a web, and pulled yourself to the roof. You let out a shaky breath as you plopped onto the roof and looked out at the city. Pulling your knees to your chest, you rested your chin on your knees and looked out at Nueva York. This universe was beautiful.

The city always calmed you, but now it was a reminder of everything you could lose.

Some time had passed when you heard a thwip similar to your own and there was a thud on the roof behind you. You closed your eyes in anticipation of the bad news Miguel was about to bring you. He quietly sat next to you at the edge of the roof and hung his feet over the ledge.

“She’s worried about you,” Miguel said, looking over at your tense form.

You bit your lip and shook your head, “I’m okay.”

“Tell me about her,” He asked, looking out at the sun setting over the city.

You tried to keep your sniffles at bay as you spoke, “She’s incredibly smart and way too intuitive for her own good.”

Miguel chuckled at your words and you moved your eyes to him as he said, “She always got into trouble when she was little because she was like that.”

You smiled softly at his words and let your knees hang over the edge, “She gets in trouble in some of her classes because she outsmarts her teachers. Can’t be mad at that.”

Miguel watched as you began to open up and relax as you talked about Gabi. You were too good for anything he deserved, but maybe you were meant to be here with him. Maybe Gabi was meant to bring you together.

Maybe the rules of the multiverse were a little more lenient than he thought.

“She’s a super talented soccer player. She still young, but some college scouts have been watching her play and showed interest. She’s just a great kid. You raised an amazing daughter,” You said, looking at him with a smile.

He bumped your shoulder with his own as his lips slightly curled up, “You did too y’know.”

Your eyes slightly widened at his words and your voice caught in your throat, “I-I’m glad you can be together again. I really am.”

“But?” He asked, his dark eyes seeing through your walls.

Tears welled up, but you blinked quickly to get them to go away, “But I don’t want to lose her either. She’s my daughter now too.”

He stayed quiet as you began to ramble, “I know being outside of your universe can mess things up, but she’s been fine. She never glitched or had any issues in my universe. Don’t you think that’s a sign-“

“That she could be a part of both of our universes,” Miguel finished for you and you nodded.

Miguel swallowed down his own nerves and placed his hand on yours and gently squeezed it, “I just want her to be happy. I don’t think taking her away from her mom would do that.”

Your heart leapt at his words as you gripped his hand, “Seriously? You’d be okay with splitting time with me?”

Miguel chuckled and smiled at you, “I don’t think splitting is the right word. I’m thinking more along the lines of figuring this out together.”

Your cheeks lit up and you smiled at him, “I’d like that. We can finally be the PTA parents she alway deserved.”

You and Miguel shared a moment where you just looked at one another and things began to change. You were going to figure out this parenting thing together.

“Are you guys done being sappy up there! I’m getting bored down here,” Gabi shouted from Miguel’s apartment.

The two of you shared a look and laughed at your daughter. Miguel shook his head as he called out, “You’re in the clear.”

You heard metal clinging as Gabi climbed to the top of the fire escape and hopped onto the roof. She smiled at you and Miguel sitting next to each other as she walked over and plopped herself between you two. She grabbed both of your hands into her own and looked at you both, “We’re a team, right? The whole solo superhero thing is such a bad idea. We work better together.”

You both shared a look before laughing at her. You brushed some hair behind her ear, “We’re a team. But that still doesn’t mean you get to be the guy in the chair for either of us.”

Gabi rolled her eyes and looked to her dad, “You gonna defend me here?”

Miguel smiled at his daughter, “Listen to your mom mija.”

[farfromstrange]

‘I love you in every universe’ | Matt Murdock x F!Mutant!Reader

Main Masterlist | Read Me On AO3

MINI-SERIES.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Female Mutant Reader (she/her pronouns)

Timeline: Set during Spider-Man: No Way Home

Warnings: ANGST with no happy ending, mentions of Major Character Death, mutant powers (mind-reading/control), grief, anger, canon typical violence, the multiverse

Summary: Spider-Man killed the love of your life. He died in your arms, and that night left you alone, bitter, and seething for revenge. At least, in your universe. By the time you were ready to face Peter Parker again, your world was already on fire; you would have done just about anything to ruin him. Until one wrong step lands you in Manhattan, New York—but it is not your universe. The second you see Matt Murdock standing right in front of you alive and well, the mangled pieces of your broken heart start raining down on you like daggers, and you come to the realization that a very real version of the man you once loved exists somewhere you were never destined to be, and you won’t be able to stay.

A/n: So, I rewatched No Way Home (The Extended Version), and I got this very angst-y idea. I hope this hasn’t been done before. There won’t be a happy ending, but it has been a while since I’ve written pure angst like this, so it feels fitting. Reader—you, in this case—gets the Wanda Maximoff treatment. It’s not a fully-fleshed out series because, for the time frame this is set in, it wouldn’t make any sense. Instead, I will tell this story in 3-4 parts (depending on final word count after editing). See it as a very long One-Shot separated to make it more readable. You’re welcome.

If you want to be tagged for this, don’t hesitate to let me know!

ONE. "I Bet On Losing Dogs"

TWO.

THREE.

[amethystarachnid]

Hi rose!!

Could i request ‘Christmas Caroling (Disaster)’ from your marvel holiday special with (platonic relationship) natasha romanoff and fem!reader? just banter, fluff and laughs! If you don’t write for Nat or don’t write platonic relationships, feel free to change any details!

Thank you!

CAROLING & SNOWBALL FIGHTS

⤷ NATASHA A. ROMANOFF

ᯓ★ Pairing: Natasha A. Romanoff x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, platonic

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 3.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: You're feeling bored so your best friend, Natasha Romanoff herself, takes matters into her own hands and decides to make you have som fun outside the Compound.

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

It’s another quiet morning at the Avengers Compound, snowflakes tumbling lazily past the frosted windows. You’ve been staring at the same book for an hour, the words blending into an indecipherable blur. With a sigh, you drop it on the coffee table and stretch, looking around the room for something, anything, to do. The holiday decorations you and the team painstakingly put up last week sparkle in the soft light, but even they can’t hold your attention.

“Bored, huh?” Natasha’s voice makes you jump. She’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smirk on her lips. She’s dressed casually in a dark hoodie and jeans, her red hair pulled into a loose braid. The sight is almost comical; you’re used to seeing her geared up for a mission, not looking like she’s about to suggest a Netflix marathon.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Painfully,” she replies, stepping into the room. She flops onto the couch beside you, stealing the mug of hot chocolate you’d abandoned earlier. “What’s the problem, Y/N? Cabin fever?”

“Something like that,” you admit. “I can’t take another day of sitting around here doing nothing. I swear I’ll lose my mind.”

Natasha takes a sip, watching you over the rim of the mug. She’s silent for a moment before her face lights up with an idea. “Let’s get out of here.”

You blink at her. “Out of here? Like, where?”

“Central Park,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s snowing, it’s December, and I’m guessing you’ve never seen it in full winter wonderland mode.”

“That’s because I value my extremities,” you quip, though a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. The idea is already growing on you. “But fine. If I lose a finger to frostbite, you owe me a really good story to make up for it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes but grabs your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Deal. Now go bundle up, rookie.”

Ten minutes later, you’re layered up in coats, scarves, and gloves, feeling like a marshmallow on legs. Natasha teases you mercilessly about your knit hat, but you point out that at least you’ll be warm. She’s only wearing a simple beanie and claims she doesn’t feel the cold—a classic spy move, you’re sure.

The streets are bustling when you arrive in Manhattan, but the chaos is strangely comforting. The city hums with energy, a mix of holiday cheer and the usual fast-paced New York vibe. As you approach Central Park, the snow seems to muffle the noise, wrapping everything in a blanket of quiet beauty.

Natasha leads the way, her boots crunching in the snow. The paths are partially cleared, but the open spaces are covered in a thick layer of pristine white. You spot families building snowmen and kids racing each other on sleds. A few brave souls are attempting to ice skate on the frozen pond.

“This is actually kind of nice,” you admit, looking around in awe.

“Told you,” Natasha says smugly, tossing a snowball at your shoulder. It’s a lazy throw, but you still yelp in surprise, brushing the snow off your coat.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” you warn, bending down to scoop up your own handful of snow. Natasha dodges easily, laughing as your attempt sails harmlessly past her.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” she taunts, darting behind a tree for cover. You chase after her, and soon you’re both caught in an all-out snowball fight, ducking and weaving like you’re in some kind of ridiculous winter-themed action movie. Natasha is annoyingly good at dodging, but you manage to land a few hits, much to your satisfaction.

Eventually, you call a truce, both of you panting and grinning like kids. “I can’t feel my hands,” you complain, shaking the snow out of your gloves.

“Rookie mistake,” Natasha says, but she’s smiling, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Come on. Let’s walk for a bit.”

The two of you stroll along the snowy paths, the playful mood giving way to something softer. The park is quieter now, the light fading as the afternoon stretches toward evening. The snow-covered trees and twinkling lights give everything a magical quality, like you’ve stepped into a postcard.

“Thanks for this,” you say after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. “I really needed it.”

Natasha shrugs, but there’s a warmth in her eyes. “You’ve been looking a little stir-crazy. Figured you could use a change of scenery.”

“Still,” you insist, bumping her shoulder with yours. “You didn’t have to. You could’ve left me to rot in my boredom.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I did that?” she asks, her tone light but sincere. The word “friend” hangs in the air, and you realize just how much it means to you. Natasha isn’t the easiest person to get close to, but moments like this remind you how much she cares in her own quiet way.

As you continue your walk, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of Natasha sneaking marshmallows from a street vendor selling hot chocolate. She insists they don’t count as stealing since she bought a drink, but the grin on her face says otherwise. You both sit on a park bench, steaming cups in hand, and watch as the first stars begin to appear in the darkening sky.

“This is perfect,” you say softly, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping into your gloves.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, her voice equally quiet. “It is.”

The two of you sit there for a long time, the world around you fading into the background. For once, there’s no mission, no chaos, no looming threat—just you, your best friend, and the peaceful beauty of a snowy December evening.

You’re mid-sip of your hot chocolate, savoring the warmth, when something smacks into the back of your head with a dull thud. You nearly spill the drink in surprise and spin around, only to see a rogue snowball disintegrating against the back of the bench. Natasha freezes mid-sip, her eyes widening slightly, and you catch the faintest twitch of a smirk.

Before you can react, a chorus of giggles erupts from somewhere nearby. A group of kids stands a few feet away, their faces half-hidden by scarves and hats, but their mischievous intent is clear. One of them holds up another snowball like it’s a trophy, daring you to respond.

Natasha, ever the professional, turns her head slowly toward you, her expression unreadable. “Well, Y/N,” she says, setting her cup down with deliberate care. “You’re not going to let them get away with that, are you?”

You blink at her. “What? They’re just kids—”

Before you can finish the sentence, Natasha has already scooped up a handful of snow, molded it into a perfect sphere, and lobbed it with expert precision. The kid with the snowball barely dodges, letting out a shriek of laughter.

“Natasha!” you hiss, horrified and impressed in equal measure.

“They started it,” she says with a shrug, but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s fully committed to this impromptu war. Another snowball flies past her head, and she ducks, motioning for you to follow her lead. “Come on, rookie. Don’t make me fight this battle alone.”

Reluctantly—and with a ridiculous amount of glee—you scramble off the bench and join her behind the nearest tree. Snowballs fly back and forth in a chaotic flurry. The kids are surprisingly coordinated for their age, and you’re pretty sure one of them is an aspiring pitcher with how fast their throws are.

Natasha, however, is in her element. She moves like she’s on a battlefield, dodging snowballs and retaliating with almost supernatural accuracy. You’re not sure whether to laugh or be concerned when she starts calling out tactics like, “Flank left!” and “Suppressive fire!”

“Nat, they’re children!” you gasp between laughs, barely dodging another well-aimed projectile.

“They’re ruthless!” she counters, narrowly avoiding a snowball to the face. “We don’t negotiate with snowball terrorists.”

Before you can respond, one of the kids sneaks up behind you and pelts you square in the back. You yelp, spinning around to see a tiny figure bolting back toward their group. Natasha cackles, actually cackles, at your expense.

“Oh, you’re going down,” you mutter, grabbing as much snow as you can carry. You charge toward the kids, who scatter in every direction, shrieking with laughter. Natasha follows close behind, her grin stretching from ear to ear.

The battle rages on for what feels like forever, until finally, you and Natasha call a truce—mostly because you’re both out of breath and can’t feel your fingers anymore. The kids cheer in victory, clearly declaring themselves the winners, and you wave a white scarf in surrender.

As you and Natasha trudge back to the bench, covered in snow and utterly exhausted, you can’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe I just went to war with a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

Natasha collapses onto the bench beside you, brushing snow out of her hair. “Hey, they were formidable opponents. You held your own.”

“I think I got frostbite on my dignity,” you joke, shaking your head.

“You’ll live,” she says, smirking. “Barely.”

You’re about to retort when a new sound catches your attention—a sharp, metallic clunk followed by a muffled curse. Both of you whip around, instinctively alert. A man in a Santa suit has somehow managed to get his foot stuck in a trash can, and he’s hopping around trying to free himself, looking utterly ridiculous.

You and Natasha stare for a moment before bursting into laughter. It’s the kind of uncontrollable, tears-in-your-eyes laughter that leaves you gasping for air.

“I can’t—” Natasha wheezes, clutching her stomach. “This is too much.”

The man finally notices the two of you watching and glares. “What? Haven’t you ever seen Santa in distress?” he snaps, still hopping. That only makes you laugh harder.

“Should we help him?” you manage to ask between giggles.

Natasha shakes her head, still laughing. “I think he’s got it under control.”

As if to prove her wrong, Santa trips over his own feet and falls flat on his back with a loud oof. Your laughter dies instantly, replaced by a mix of horror and concern.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, rushing over to help. “Are you okay?”

The man groans but waves you off. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just…bad day, you know?”

Natasha joins you, her amusement giving way to a more subdued grin. “Do you need a hand?”

Santa looks up at her, then at you, and sighs. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope,” Natasha says, offering him her hand. “But I will help you up.”

Between the two of you, you manage to get him back on his feet and free his boot from the trash can. He mutters a thanks before trudging off, still grumbling under his breath.

As you return to the bench, you and Natasha exchange a look and burst out laughing again.

“This is officially the weirdest day ever,” you say, shaking your head.

“Just another day in New York,” Natasha replies, her eyes twinkling. “Admit it, though—it’s been fun.”

You smile, brushing a stray snowflake off your coat. “Yeah. It really has.”

As the last of your laughter fades and the chill starts to settle back in, you hear something unusual over the faint hum of city noise: voices raised in song. You and Natasha exchange curious looks, both craning your necks toward the sound.

Down the path, a group of cheerful carolers bundled in scarves and hats stands beneath a lamp post, singing their hearts out. Their harmonized rendition of Jingle Bells drifts through the snowy air, lifting the spirits of passersby. It’s such a quintessentially wholesome scene that you can’t help but smile.

“Should we join them?” you joke, nudging Natasha with your elbow. “Spread some holiday cheer?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You? Singing? I thought you said you didn’t do public humiliation.”

“Funny,” you deadpan, though you’re smiling. “I could totally out-sing you.”

“Oh, that sounds like a challenge,” she says, her smirk widening.

Before you can retort, one of the carolers—an older woman with a kind face and an almost suspicious amount of holiday cheer—spots you both watching. Her eyes light up, and before you can bolt, she’s heading your way, flanked by a few other singers.

“Hello there!” she says, her voice warm and inviting. “You two look like you’re having a wonderful evening. Care to join us? We’re spreading some Christmas joy around the park.”

“Oh, we’re just here to—” you start, but Natasha cuts you off.

“Absolutely,” she says, grinning at your look of betrayal. “We’d love to.”

The woman beams, clapping her hands together. “Wonderful! Come on, we’ve got songbooks for you.”

“Natasha,” you hiss as she pulls you along, “what are you doing? We can’t sing.”

“Speak for yourself,” she replies, her tone light but teasing. “Besides, it’s not about being good. It’s about having fun.”

You groan but let her drag you toward the group. Someone hands you a songbook, and before you know it, you’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Natasha, surrounded by cheerful strangers belting out holiday classics.

The first song is Deck the Halls, and to your surprise, you’re not entirely terrible. Natasha, of course, sings with the kind of confidence that makes you wonder if she’s secretly been trained in covert caroling as part of her spy work. She’s not half bad, though her occasional exaggerated vibrato earns some stifled laughs from the group.

When the carolers move on to Silent Night, the vibe softens, and you can’t help but get swept up in the moment. Snow drifts lazily around you, the lights of the park twinkling like stars. Natasha glances at you mid-verse, and the rare softness in her expression makes your heart swell.

“See?” she whispers when the song ends, her breath misting in the cold air. “Not so bad, huh?”

You roll your eyes but smile. “I guess it’s kind of nice.”

The next song is Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and that’s when things take a turn for the hilarious. The carolers encourage everyone to get a little animated, adding silly gestures and sound effects. Natasha, to your utter shock, fully commits. She even throws in a dramatic point to herself when the lyrics mention “reindeer games,” earning a round of applause from the group.

“Who are you and what have you done with Natasha Romanoff?” you tease between verses.

“What can I say?” she quips, shrugging. “I thrive under pressure.”

By the time the group launches into Frosty the Snowman, you’re both fully immersed. You try to outdo each other with increasingly ridiculous antics, from fake tap-dancing to over-the-top hand gestures. The carolers laugh and cheer you on, and soon even passersby are stopping to watch and join in.

At one point, Natasha grabs your arm and twirls you around like you’re in a ballroom dance. You stumble, nearly knocking over a poor guy carrying his dog, and the entire group erupts into laughter.

“I’m blaming you if I fall,” you warn, breathless from laughing so hard.

“You’ll be fine,” Natasha replies, smirking. “You’re more coordinated than you look.”

The impromptu performance ends with a rousing rendition of We Wish You a Merry Christmas, complete with clapping and stomping. By the time the carolers disperse, you’re grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.

“That was ridiculous,” you say as you and Natasha walk back to the bench, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots.

“Ridiculously fun,” she counters, her grin matching yours. “Admit it, you loved it.”

“Fine,” you concede, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “It was fun. But don’t expect me to make this a regular thing.”

“Noted,” she says, her tone light. Then, after a pause, she adds, “You’ve got a decent voice, though.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. “Was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” she replies, smirking. “Now, come on. Let’s find something else to do before you start getting bored again.”

As you walk off together, snow falling gently around you, you realize that this has been one of the best days you’ve had in a long time. And it’s all thanks to Natasha—and her unexpected knack for turning the mundane into something extraordinary.

By the time you and Natasha return to the compound, the warmth of the interior feels like heaven. You both stomp the snow off your boots and shed your damp outer layers near the door, collapsing onto the couch in the main living room like you’ve just run a marathon.

“Remind me to never carol in the snow again,” you groan, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

“You loved it,” Natasha counters, stretching her legs out on the coffee table. She looks just as tired as you feel, though her smirk suggests she’s still riding the high of the day’s events.

Before you can retort, the sound of footsteps pulls your attention. Steve strides in, looking every bit the curious big brother. His eyebrows shoot up at the sight of you both sprawled out like overworked elves.

“Rough mission?” he jokes, folding his arms.

“Worse,” Natasha deadpans. “We were ambushed by snowball terrorists, then conscripted into a caroling group.”

Steve blinks, his confusion quickly replaced by amusement. “Snowball terrorists? Caroling? Is this some kind of inside joke, or—?”

“Oh, it’s very real,” you cut in, sitting up. “I’ve never seen Nat throw snowballs with such precision. It’s terrifying.”

“She’s a trained assassin,” Steve points out, chuckling. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Before the conversation can continue, Sam and Bucky wander in, followed closely by Wanda and Clint. Within minutes, the living room is buzzing with questions and laughter as you recount your afternoon adventures. Natasha, surprisingly, doesn’t downplay any of it, even going so far as to mimic your disastrous attempt at dancing during Frosty the Snowman.

“I swear, she almost took out a guy and his dog,” Natasha says, barely holding back her laughter.

“Did not!” you protest, though you’re laughing too.

“Okay, okay,” Clint interrupts, grinning. “This sounds like the most ridiculous thing I’ve missed all week. But since you two had your fun, what’s the plan for tonight? Because I’m not letting you hog all the entertainment.”

“We’re exhausted,” you point out, slumping further into the couch. “Nat and I earned a break.”

“Perfect,” Wanda chimes in, her eyes lighting up. “Let’s have a movie night. Something fun and festive.”

“Yes!” Sam agrees, already heading for the kitchen. “I’ll make popcorn. But I’m not watching any boring black-and-white Christmas movies.”

“Don’t knock It’s a Wonderful Life,” Steve says, looking mildly offended.

“Let’s take a vote,” Clint suggests, grabbing the remote. “Majority rules.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone to agree on a lineup of holiday classics, starting with Home Alone and ending with Elf. The team scatters briefly to grab snacks, blankets, and other essentials, and when they return, the living room feels like the coziest place on Earth.

Natasha claims the corner of the couch, gesturing for you to sit next to her. You oblige, pulling a blanket over your legs as Sam passes around bowls of popcorn. Wanda curls up in an armchair, while Clint takes the floor with a pillow he’s clearly stolen from someone’s room. Steve and Bucky settle in on the other couch, and even Bruce makes an appearance, looking relaxed for once.

“Ready?” Clint asks, remote in hand.

“Hit it,” Natasha says, smirking.

As the first movie begins, the room fills with laughter and commentary. Sam and Clint provide running jokes during every slapstick scene, while Steve occasionally tries (and fails) to explain the historical inaccuracies of certain films. Natasha, to your surprise, seems to enjoy herself the most, her rare laughter ringing out at the most unexpected moments.

During a particularly chaotic scene in Home Alone, where Kevin sets up traps for the burglars, Bucky leans over to Steve. “Why does this kid remind me of Nat?” he asks, deadpan.

Steve snorts. “Because she’d do the exact same thing, only with way more efficiency.”

“I heard that,” Natasha calls out, not even looking away from the screen.

As the night goes on, everyone starts to relax completely, the day’s stress melting away. At some point, Wanda conjures a tiny flurry of snowflakes above the coffee table, much to everyone’s delight. Clint insists on using them as makeshift targets, and the ensuing chaos nearly derails the movie marathon.

By the time Elf rolls around, you’re half-asleep, leaning against Natasha’s shoulder. She doesn’t seem to mind, her own posture relaxed as she absentmindedly munches on popcorn.

“This was a good idea,” you mumble, your eyes growing heavy.

Natasha hums in agreement. “Told you. Sometimes the simplest things are the best.”

As the movie’s final credits roll, the group lingers, reluctant to let the night end. Clint and Sam argue about who made the best jokes, while Steve insists on cleaning up despite everyone’s protests. Natasha gently nudges you awake, her expression softer than usual.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” she says quietly. “Time for bed.”

You nod groggily, letting her pull you to your feet. As you say your goodnights and head to your room, you can’t help but smile. The day might’ve started with boredom, but it ended with something much better: laughter, friendship, and a reminder of how lucky you are to have found this family.

[lady-assnali]

Okay, here’s the first ao3 post-to be totally honest, I completely forgot this existed. Because it’s Rosenali i think, technically, but it’s probably the first Crygi I posted and it pre-dates the concept of the baby model au. But it’s a good way to bring the aus together! Now I have to hope that my timelines aren’t skewed and that other fics make sense with this one. oops! Guess this is why we post on ao3 isn’t it?!

[mcufan72]

Hello everyone!

After writer's block and some changes in my life (mostly good ones), I'm finally able to write again. I can't believe that the last lines I wrote for my Loki fics were in July/August 2023. Unbelievable.

Here is my new multi-part fic!

It's a modern AU, I will use MCU characters and facts incorrectly and Loki will be as I want him to be. The Multiverse is open and I do what I want. Those who have read my other stuff know what I mean. So if you don't like it, don't read it. This story will contain morally grey stuff (or not, I don't know. What exactly is morally grey? But nothing too bad happens here or without consent. It's still a love story), fluff, angst and eventually smut…so 18+ only, please!

I also use random names/characters, they have nothing to do with the MCU, they're a product of my fantasy. They are inspired by real-life people and also the plot might be inspired by real-life experiences (not every part of the plot, please keep that in mind). So please don't steal my stuff, use your own experiences and let them inspire you. I also did some research but without a guarantee of completeness and accuracy.

Here is the first chapter of my new fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. 💚

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader / 18+

Chapter 1

Preview here

Warnings: none so far, contains fluff, angst, and smut (eventually), it's a slow-burn love story.

“I leave."

"Yeah, good. Go home and get some rest. I don't know when I'll be back. Might be late. “

“That's not what I meant.”

“Then explain.”

“I leave the company…and you!”

“It's just a phase, darling. Take a few days off and then everything will be fine again.”

“You really don't get it, do you? It's not a phase.”

“No one screws things up with me! Not even you! ...you have six months.”

3 months later

Damn! Just damn! You were late, like always. You were permanently struggling with keeping places in time and today it wasn't any different. It was pouring rain since you had left your apartment and you were nearly completely drenched from head to toe and of course, you had forgotten your umbrella. The only protection from the rain was the high collar and the hood of your coat. You hurried through the streets of Manhattan, melding into the people who crowded the sidewalks. The city's smells and noises were engulfing you, uncountable different languages and accents were hitting your ears. On every street corner was music, played by street entertainers who tried to grab some money from the people passing by. Car horns were honking, and brakes were squeaking, the sirens of ambulances or police cars drowning out any other sounds. The whole city was buzzing and glowing, a permanent noise filling ears and streets, echoing between amazing skyscrapers. But you loved it, this was your hometown and you have been living here for five years now. You wouldn't stay here forever, surely not, but for now you would stay.

On your way to your appointment this afternoon you accidentally bumped into someone because you held your head down to keep the rain away from your face. “Hey, watch it, girl!” a manly voice scolded you. You apologized with a hasty: “Sorry”, and continued your way unimpressed. Somehow you managed to cruise fluently through the masses of people and cars and reached the building you wanted to go to right in time. You passed the doorman, who gave you a friendly smile, and the security men in their black suits in the reception area, who greeted you with a short nod. They looked much too good for your liking but you couldn't deny your attraction to tall men with broad shoulders in black suits. You had a soft spot for this kind of man. The rainwater that was dripping from your coat was wetting the floor of the entrance hall and with an apologetic shoulder shrug and a heartwarming smile on your face towards the security men, you headed for the lift.

*****************

How much Loki hated the weather today. Fortunately, he had his umbrella with him so he was protected from heaven's water. The pouring rain, the crowded sidewalks and streets, the deafening noise. He was living here in New York for over twelve years now but it seemed to some things he would never get used to. He surely wouldn't stay here forever but for now, he still had to. Normally he wouldn't go out on the streets when it was raining like this. No one would go out voluntarily in such weather. But he got a call from a negotiating partner, who asked him to meet him at a café in the early afternoon to inform him about a few details. And some conversations were better made personally than by phone. The meeting wasn't a long one and his conversation partner Mr.Miller had already left but Loki was still sitting in the café, sipping on his espresso. “Damn it!”, he murmured under his breath, annoyed about what Mr. Miller had asked of him.

Mr. Miller was an extremely old-fashioned, elderly man and he told Loki for his next event, a business dinner, he would like to see him with a female companion. Every other guest would bring their significant others too, there wouldn't be just the dinner, there would also be some dancing afterwards and how sad it would be if he were there alone.

“Please, bring your significant other, too. I don't accept a no!” Mr. Miller insisted.

Loki knew exactly when it was better to not discuss a negotiation partner's wishes and so he agreed. Sometimes you have to make concessions if you want something to be successful. Now a solution had to be found. Loki didn't have any female friend he could take with him on such a date. It must be someone trustworthy, someone who could be silent as a grave, someone who could keep secrets. In the best case, someone who did it professionally. He would never ask any of his former affairs, not to talk about that his last affair was some time ago. He pulled out his mobile phone and did some research. Over the years he'd learned to appreciate his phone as a daily companion. Using apps on your mobile phone made your life easier and finding a solution for nearly every problem was easier with it as well.

Shortly after starting scrolling through several websites, he found it. The solution to his problem ‘how to attend a date with a female companion’: an escort agency. Professionally escorted by a well-educated woman, intelligent, sophisticated and with perfect manners, professionally obliged to keep silent. That was it, the ultimate solution to his problem. Of course, he had to meet the woman he wanted to book for that upcoming event, first. He had to ensure that she was the right one and if she was suitable for such an event. He had no other choice so he gave it a try. He called the agency he had chosen and described what he wanted and what was required in every detail to the polite and friendly lady he was talking to. It sounded like she was smiling on the other end of the phone and it gave him the good feeling of having made the right decision.

“Okay, Sir. I'm pretty sure I already have the right lady for you. Have you heard of the ‘Vivian's Velvet’ nightclub?”

“Yes, I did."

“Fine. Then you'll meet her there at the bar at 8 pm sharp. She'll be waiting there for you.”

“How will I recognise her? I mean…”

“She'll know who you are. Please send me a photo of you and then I can forward the image to her. Please don't get me wrong, Sir but we handle it this way because we want to guarantee our ladies a way out in case they want to refuse a meeting for whatever reason and at any time. Even if they are already at the nightclub. It's for the safety of our ladies. I hope you understand.”

“I do. It's what your ladies deserve and I respect that.”

“I'm glad to hear that, Sir. Thank you for understanding. Would you please give me your name so our lady can address you correctly?”

Loki hesitated for a second. In his business sometimes it was advantageous to use an alias and he would hold on to this tradition here.

“My name is Luke Larsson.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Larsson. If you have any questions or if the lady I've chosen for you is not for your liking, please don't hesitate and let me know. I'll look for a new lady for you then. We aim to satisfy you completely at any time. And please don't forget to send me your photo, Mr. Larsson.”

“I'll send it immediately.”

“Of course, Mr. Larsson and I wish you an enjoyable evening. Thank you for choosing and calling us. Goodbye, Sir.”

“Goodbye, Ma'am and thank you for your excellent service.”

“You're welcome” and with that, the call ended.

He did what was required of him and he sent the agency a photo of himself. To book a lady at an escort agency was an expensive matter but money was no object. He had called the best escort agency in the city and only the best was what he needed.

He paid his bill and left the café. The streets were still crowded, rain was still flooding the streets and slightly ruining his leather shoes and his slacks. On his way back home a hood-wearing person with a lowered head, drenching wet from the rain, bumped into him. Why couldn't people watch their way, he thought angrily.

“Hey, watch it, girl!“ he scolded. He wasn't sure if it was a woman, he just assumed it. He barely heard the apology of the person and he immediately regretted his harsh words. He turned around to apologize as well. But the person who ran into him had almost completely disappeared in the crowd. He could just catch a short glimpse of the shoes the person was wearing. ‘Nice colour’, he thought and disappeared into the crowd himself. In a few hours, he would meet the escort lady who probably would accompany him to his next business dinner.

***************

With a ping, the lift's door opened on the 25th floor where the agency had its office. The word REA was written in large, finely curved golden letters on the big white, opaque glass door, right above the golden door knob. REA was the acronym for Rhea's Escort Agency and you had to ring a doorbell to get in. The interior was simple but very elegant, bright and inviting at the same time. Smooth jazz music played in the background and created a comfortable atmosphere. A large white leather couch was invitingly positioned close to the floor-to-ceiling windows, framed by exotic green plants and a coffee table. Behind the front desk sat Rhea, the owner of the agency, on the phone, talking to one of the other escorts. She beckoned you with her hand getting over to her. After you approached her desk, she opened her mouth with a soundless dismay when she saw you in your dripping wet state. You could just smile at her with a shoulder shrug. You took off your drenched coat and hung it on the coat rack. Shortly after, she ended the call and rounded her desk to hug you.

“Jeez, girl…look at you. What happened , dear? Did you take a swim and forgot your towel?”

“Kind of.” you answered and laughed.

“Sit down, lovely. You must be freezing. I'll get you a towel and a hot drink. Some Tea?”

“Yes, I'd fancy a cuppa“, you said with a sigh of relief and you were glad to drink something warm now and to dry the front part of your hair with a towel.

“Here, darling “, Rhea said when she came back from the restroom and kitchenette which were both located at the back of the office, invisible to clients.

“That's much needed now, thanks, Rhea. You're my saviour.“ you answered with a thankful smile and took a sip of your tea before you began to dry your hair. You immediately felt much better. Rhea sat down again in her chair opposite you and opened the appointment calendar on her laptop.

“I'm glad that you made it to the office, y/n. The weather is really horrible today but I needed to see you personally.”

“Did something happen? Did a client complain? “ you asked concernedly. You hoped not, you needed this job and you always gave your best.

“No no, don't worry, darling. Everything is fine and that's what I wanted to tell you. Every client you have escorted so far has been happy and satisfied. You're booked up for this week except for the weekend, as you wished. So based on your successful dating and our clients’ satisfaction, I can offer you a higher hourly rate.”

“Oh, really? Oh thank you so much, Rhea, that really means a lot to me. I need every dollar I can earn.” You meant it, it was the undeniable truth.

“I know, dear and you know you could increase your income further by being booked for the weekends as well.” Rhea reminded you.

“Yeah, I know but I need the weekends for personal matters. Those are important too, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. Your personal matters are surely important and I know it's none of my business. But please let me know whenever I can do something for you, okay?” she said softly.

“No one can help me, I'm afraid. But thank you for your kind offer, I appreciate it,” you replied, well aware regardless of how much you'd work, even if you worked 24/7 you still wouldn't earn enough money to solve your problems. But you had to try and that was what kept you going.

“Okay…so…are you spontaneous, dear?” Rhea asked you while looking for her work mobile phone on her desk.

“Ahmm…yes”, you answered hesitantly.

“Good, because I got a request 30 minutes ago and already made an appointment …and based on the requirements of our potential new client I think you perfectly fit him.”

“Okay, where will I meet him and when?”

“At 8 pm sharp at ‘Vivian's Velvet’. Walker will drive you like always. It is more a casual meeting with our client to get to know each other so please dress appropriately but not too chic. Classy will do…a black cocktail dress would be fine.”

“Yeah, no problem. How does he look like and what's his name?”

“Waaaiiit…ah now…sent you a photo “, Rhea explained and a second later your phone vibrated with an incoming message.

“He's eye candy, a jackpot, a real cherry on top, the icing on the cake…and his voice…he could read the phone book to me. But the most important thing, he sounded nice. Maybe a bit arrogant but nice.” Rhea gushed.

“A jackpot you say? Let me see…” and with these words on your lips, you opened the file. You nearly dropped your phone. Black mid-length curly hair, a beautiful blade of a nose, a chiselled jaw, prominent cheekbones and a mouth you just wanted to kiss. But the most impressive were his piercing blue eyes which seemed to look deep into your soul.

“Wow” was the only thing you were able to say.

“I told you” Rhea laughed, fully getting your reaction towards the beauty of this man. “His name is Luke Larsson. I'm sure you won't miss him.”

“Absolutely not. How could someone miss this handsome man? Luke Larsson…is he Norwegian? “

“I don't know…his accent sounded more British. So you're willing to meet him? “

“Oh yes, I'm looking forward to it. I'll be at ‘Vivian's' at 7.30 pm so I can wait for him there.” you confirmed.

“Fine, dear. He booked you for two hours. When I get the drinks bill from the bar, your hourly rate and your share of the drinks will be transferred to your bank account…as usual. Enjoy the evening, dear. And tell me how it went, okay?” Rhea asked you.

“Of course, I'll let you know.”

After this enjoyable talk, you headed back home quickly. You had less than two hours left to get prepared for the meeting with Mr. Luke Larsson.

In less than 20 minutes Walker would arrive at your apartment to drive you to ‘Vivian's Velvet ‘. Walker was your chauffeur and was responsible for driving you safely to a dating location and back home again afterwards. In case you would spend intimate hours with a client, he would wait in front of the hotel. For your safety and to drive you home after the intimate encounter. Walker was 56 years old, a rock of a man with a buzz cut and a beard. He was an imposing figure, always dressed in a formal suit. But he had a heart of gold and you always felt safe when he was around. Knowing he was always close by when you had an appointment with a man, made you feel even safer. You knew he had a soft spot for you and he would always be there for you, no matter what. Somehow you were like a daughter to him but if you were his daughter he would never allow you to work as an escort.

You were almost ready. You were wearing a simple but elegant black, midi cocktail dress with sleeves in black lace and black high heels. With your hair parted in the middle and pulled back into a sleek tight bun, which sat deep in your neck, you created an illusion of long straight hair. You grabbed your purse from the wardrobe and after a final inspection of your appearance in your large mirror, you left your apartment.

“Good evening, y/n. You look wonderful tonight “. Walker was waiting for you in front of your house and opened the door of the black limousine with tinted windows for you and you let yourself slide into the backseat of the car.

“Thank you, Walker and good evening.“ you replied with a smile on your lips.

Walker closed the door, entered the driver's seat and drove you to ‘Vivian's Velvet’. It was one of the most exclusive and most expensive nightclubs in Manhattan with a luxurious interior in black and purple.

It was close to 8 pm and you were waiting for your date. You were excited about how he would be if he really looked that good and if you would fit his expectations. You ordered a glass of champagne to calm down your nerves a little bit but it would be your only drink tonight. As always, because you must remain in control of your senses. It was a golden rule. The men you dated were supposed to drink alcohol, lots of it, not you. It brought additional money to the hourly rate of an escort. The more they drank the more you got. The only thing that brought the most additional money was having sex with them. But it wasn't a must and you weren't interested, not in the slightest. But the day might come when you had no other choice and maybe one day you would feel a carnal desire again that needed to be satisfied. But you wouldn't do it with everyone. It had to be a special man with a special aura and he must give you kind of a feeling that you were safe with him.

A few minutes later, at 8 pm sharp, you felt someone standing behind and then next to you. A hint of a delicious scent hit your nostrils and a sizzling energy filled the air, making your skin tingle.

***********

When Loki entered the nightclub, there were already four women sitting at the bar, their backs turned towards him. Two of them were in the company of a man, two were sitting there alone so one of them was supposed to be his date, he assumed. Because he didn't know what the woman he had booked looked like, he went over to the bar and ordered a drink, the most expensive Scottish whisky the club had to offer. Next to him to his right side sat a woman on a stool, dressed in an elegant black cocktail dress and black high heels, her hair in a tight hair bun. For now, she ignored him and he wasn't sure if she was his date or not. She looked stunning as far as he could see it. He didn't want to stare at her. But he hoped she was the woman he had an appointment with. She was very lovely to look at. In the corner of his eyes, he saw her sipping at her glass of champagne.

“Good evening, Mr.Larsson. Nice to meet you,” you addressed him with a calm, velvety voice and smiled at him.

“Good evening, Miss… I'm sorry but I don't know your name yet,” he answered softly but dryly.

“How would you like to call me, Mr. Larsson?” You asked him mischievously, a smile curving your lips.

“I don't think I am in the position to give you a name.”

“You're very polite and well-mannered, aren't you?”

You had difficulties maintaining your facade. He looked extremely good in that photo but in reality, this man was beyond beautiful. Inky black hair you wanted to rake your fingers through, broad shoulders, lean muscles, slender waist and endless long legs. All of this gorgeousness was wrapped in an exquisite black suit and a crisp white shirt, the top three buttons undone. You could see a hint of his chest hair which peaked out of the V of his shirt. You felt your mouth watering. He was devastatingly sexy. Now that he was reassured that you were his date he moved a little closer to you. His smell was enchanting. An indescribable mixture of fresh cotton, sandalwood, orange blossom and something spicy you weren't able to specify.

The way he leaned against the bar, his big veiny hand with long, perfectly manicured fingers holding the whisky tumbler, his other hand in his trouser pocket, had something indecent about it. You wanted to rip his shirt open and watch the buttons scatter down to the floor. You should better stop salivating over him and begin entertaining him. That was your job and he was the client you had to convince of you because you wanted him to book your service. You had to focus on your job.

“What kind of escort service do you need from me? How can I be of help?”, you asked him kindly.

He took a sip of his whisky and you of your champagne before he gave you an answer, making eye contact with you and holding your gaze. It made you inwardly shiver.

“I need a companion who escorts me regularly to functions. I'm not interested in flirting with you. I need someone I can have an actual conversation with. Nothing annoys me more than some people and their boring talk. It also should be someone who is discreet and can keep secrets. Someone who doesn't want more afterwards,” he explained, his voice dark and raspy.

“Even if you would want more afterwards I won't give it to you. I'm an escort, not a luxury call girl. I just offer you simple accompaniment, nothing more and nothing less,” you stated kindly but firmly. Good-looking or not, you would never give him the chance to get between your legs.

“I'm well aware of that, Miss”, he replied dryly. “You're an escort lady and this is what I want and what I need. And don't worry, I don't believe in love or anything related to it!”

Loki took a sip of his whisky, his gaze still fixed on you. How pretty you were. Your big bright eyes, your cute nose and your rosy lips were just perfect. Your body was perfectly hugged by your black cocktail dress and your legs with those beautiful high heels at your feet were tempting and he suddenly thought about how good it must feel if they were wrapped around his waist. Loki quickly pushed that thought aside. He wasn't here to live out his lust with you. Also, his past was dark and blood-drenched. And you definitely deserved a better man than him. Regardless of his indecent thoughts, he liked your attitude and your behaviour. A little bit of sassiness, a lot of passion and somewhere hidden deep inside of you, vulnerability and a kind of sadness. Now that he has gotten to know you he wondered how and why you had ended up in the escort agency. You didn't seem to belong there.

“Me neither, Mr. Larsson! I'm glad we see it the same way. I've sworn off men entirely. I'm not interested in a love affair with you.”

“Well, I guess we got a deal, then.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Larsson, we got a deal”.

You smiled at him and you took another sip of your champagne. He gave you clearly and precisely all the information you needed to know so you could get an idea of the business dinner he wanted you to escort him to and you agreed with the conditions. Time flew by so quickly and before you even knew it your appointment with him was over.

“So we'll meet next week? “ Loki asked you.

“Of course, Mr Larsson. Call the agency and make the appointment. It was a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad that I could satisfy you and I'm pleased that I meet your expectations “. You smiled brightly at him. You were still captivated by his incredible aura.

“The pleasure is all mine. But there's one last thing…” You looked quizzically at him.

“I still don't know your name. What should I call you? “

“Sugar. You can call me Sugar.”

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃

Taglist: (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lokisprettygirl @fictive-sl0th @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fandxmslxt69 @chantsdemarins @justjoanne242 @lovingchoices14 @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger @lokixryss @anukulee @wheredafandomat

[spideytorchweek]

Now Announcing Spideytorch Week 2023!

Spideytorch Week is a weekly event centered around the relationship between Peter Parker (Spider-Man) and Johnny Storm (The Human Torch) from the Marvel comics!

The event will take place October 9th thru October 15th!

This years' themes are:

Day 1 - Across the Multiverse: Go wild with imagination of all the possible Peter Parkers and Johnny Storms in the Marvel multiverse from Peter B. Parker and a Jonathan L.S. Storm to 1930s Spider-Noir and Long Island man Jonathan Storm. The possibilities are as endless as the multiverse.

Day 2 - Space/Exploration: The Fantastic Four and Spider-Man have been to space on many occasions. Outer Space is vast and wide with a limitless amount of things to explore, including Peter and Johnny's feelings for one another.

Day 3 - Caught in the Act: What happens if Peter and Johnny get caught in the act? Did the paparazzi capture a kiss between Johnny and Spider-Man after a rough fight, or does Johnny film another tape that gets stolen again, starring one Peter Parker this time? (See Amazing Spider-Man Digital #17, 2009)

Day 4 - Villain AU: Anything and all things villain related go here. Peter or Johnny can be villians or they can be working together to stop a villain. Maybe Peter never did rid himself of the Venom symbiote. It's all up to your villainous imagination.

Day 5 - Domestic AU: From moving in or living together to babysitting or raising kids and everything in between, anything with that domestic vibe goes on this day.

Day 6 - New York, New York: The more things change the more they stay the same. Nothing has been more constant to Spideytorch than New York City. This day is anything related to Peter and Johnny and the Big Apple like hot dog dates on many a rooftops in the city to keeping villains of the streets of Manhattan.

Day 7 - Free Day!: Participant's choice! Anything goes on this day! You can also use as a makeup day if you missed the deadline for any other day.

The above are just recommendations for the theme each day so feel free to put your own spin on any of the themes.

We accept all fanworks and there’s no signups needed to participate - just remember to tag #spideytorchweek in your first five tags and tag @spideytorchweek!

For anyone new to the Spideytorch ship and/or anyone who wants to read more canon comic material about them in preparation for Spideytorch Week here are some resources to get your started from @fyeahspideytorch and @traincat!

Here & Here

[anuncalledbridge]

Leap of faith

Summary: you didn't expect you'd be pulled into a verse where there is no Avenger, no Peter, and no Ned.

Pairing: Miles Morales x (half filo) Stark!reader

Warning: knife, cursing, cursing in tagalog, violence, mention of death.

Previous part

It has been two days since you've been pulled by that strange portal. By some mysterious matter, Gwen and you somehow got into visions academy, an academy which you heard are only for the rich and intelligent kids. Vision Academy wasn't hard and it wasn't easy either but you could manage same goes for Gwen, she was rather exceptional herself.

When night falls you always find yourself feeling alone, sure Gwen was there but she is either sleeping or completely ignoring you. You miss home, you missed your dad, that's the only thing you and Gwen had in common, missing home.

You grabbed your suit deciding to sneak out, you looked at Gwen "wanna go for a swing?" You asked, she was burying her nose in a book "No, I feel tired" she lazily replied.

"Suit yourself, pinkie" You jump from your two-story building and shot a web on a building. You were too deep in your thoughts as you swing. Yesterday you went to visit Manhattan and found absolutely nothing. Manhattan looked so empty without the avenger tower.

There was a spider person like you in this verse but to your surprise, it was a guy, there was no explanation as to how any of this happened but since you got here you made it upon yourself to make some sort of device to get yourself home but it was quite complicated than you thought. The multiverse was somehow in shambles, you hoped that Dr. Strange finds a way to fix this while you were trying to go home.

You sat on a tower watching the city lights; you sat there for a while, thinking of something, anything other than this madness.

You got bored eventually and just decided to look around, your line of sight traveled to each civilian until it landed on a lady being mugged by someone.

"Okay! Need to get these pent-up feelings out!" You stretched your limp arms then you started to shoot your web to the next building.

"Woo! " You shouted, dodging a huge truck as you made your way to the crime "Help-- help me please!" The lady sounded so defeated her broken sobs were heard a mile away making you pick up your pace.

"Ain't it a bit rude, interrupting her well-deserved walk?" You spoke out of nowhere, making the culprit look up from his current position "Who are you!?" He shouted, quite terrified seeing a new sight other than their local hero.

"That's what they always say" You jump from a small building then you started to walk over to him "Never, 'oh! How are you amazing spider-woman?' you know what I mean? No?" You taunted.

"Stay where you are! Or else this bitch dies" he gruffly grabbed the woman's arm as he pointed the knife at her neck.

You gasp "Calling a woman 'bitch'? How would your mother feel if he saw you right now? Pushing you out of her vajayjay must've been a huge disappointment" You clicked your tongue in feigned disappointment.

"Oh well! There's nothing we could do about that" You shrugged. You swiftly shoot your web at the girl, successfully pulling her to you as she yelps at the process.

The culprit backed away dropping his knife and sprinting for his dear like "Hey! Where are your manners!" You shouted.

You were about to go after him but then a silhouette suddenly appeared in front of him catching him off guard, before he knew it he was already stuck on a wall, webs all over his body.

You saw Spiderman right there in front of you, he was talking to the culprit about something then his sight averted to you.

"Saw your little stunt, who are you?" He asked as he inch his way towards you "Ha? no no English." You tried to salvage this situation with your god-awful accent only to receive a laugh "No need to hide, heard you talking about pushing someone out of there-- you know how it goes" he winced.

The lady from earlier had already left after thanking you, so it was just the both of you plus the culprit who was on the wall "Who are you?" He asked again "tangina, papatayin ako ni Gwen nito" (fuck, Gwen is gonna kill me) you muttered. It didn't bother you much but Gwen, Oh dear.

Peter didn't understand a thing you just said, the only thing he caught was the name 'Gwen' "Whose Gwen?" He asked

"No one! It's nice doing business with you Mr. Daddy long legs!" Before you got time to swing your ass to Gwen he said something and you froze.

"I'm Peter, Peter Parker." The deafening silence made Peter uncomfortable a bit. In your verse Peter wasn't the Spiderman, instead, he had lived a pretty normal nerdy life and was your best friend who was obsessed with the star wars lore and Legos.

This Peter was much older than you, you can tell. Peter took off his mask and it completely left your mouth hanging open. Instead of luscious dark brown curly hair, he was blonde, and as you guess he was much much older than you.

"Is this what old age does to you!? Turn you blonde?!" You gestured your hands around him in exaggeration "Time has not been good to you, babes" Peter was offended for all he knows, he was perfect.

"She can talk.." he muttered. "No this isn't fair" he shook his head with a furrowed brow. "I don't know your name and your Identity" he sighs, looking at you expectedly "Oh! Right. Wait a minute, barbie"

"I'm pretty gorgeous so be warned" It feels like you were revealing yourself in a Roblox group chat with a bunch of kids that you and your Peter tried to prank. you pushed the nanotechnology spider logo on your suit and there reveals your face.

"Im--"

"Y/n!"

You didn't expect this...Peter, not your Peter, engulfed you in a tight hug, making you stumble back "O-okay.." you awkwardly said not knowing where to put your hands.

For what felt like minutes he started to sob "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" his breath was ragged if mistaken he'd have a panic attack "Dude, hey...what happened?" You finally asked.

Peter pulled away from you, as he wiped off his tears "I thought you...d-died" he had a hard time looking at you, guilt pooled in his eyes "whaaatt?" You dragged your word, still not processing his statement.

He chuckled softly but the pain is evidently still there "You're mistaken, Peter. I'm not from here, I just happen to stumble here"

"What?" He asked finally discarding his previous feeling "I was pulled by something close to a black hole, which terrified the hell out of me by the way" Peter paced around, still not meeting your gaze, afraid that if he did, he might cry again.

"Kingpin.." he muttered, he was thinking for a while then he finally looked up at you "Wait, how come you're here early? He didn't activate the machine yet" his voice was painted with confusion and a tinge bit of solemnity.

"Beats me, but that is a horrible name" You made a face of disgust while Peter smiled fondly, seemingly remembering something that includes you "You're still the same y/n, well except for the part where you spoke in a different language" that made you smile, although you have no idea what you're getting yourself into or who this exact copy of you is.

"Wanna grab a coffee or something?" You asked, as you ready yourself to swing "at this hour? Sure, why not" he put on his mask and with a last nod he took off swinging, you following behind him.

----

"You married Mj?!" You gaped at him, shaking his head as he took a bite of his burger "Yeah I did, she helped me a lot since... you know" he looked down at the city, he was trying to say something but he was having a hard getting it out; finally he let out a long sigh then he looked at you. "Y-you were too young when you died, Y/n. I couldn't forgive myself"

"Hey, it's not your fault. Even if it's not me I know she won't blame you either." You rub comfort on his back, you don't know a single thing about comforting.

Peter's usual demeanor came back after a few words of horrible comforting and encouragement, and you think he finally has the closure he deserves.

You told him everything about the verse you live in, from the Avengers to your Peter and your father.

"Wait, so this Captain America guy, is always on your 'ass' because you're being too unnecessarily loud?" He questioned "Yes! Good thing I can curse in my own language so he's got nothing on my ass... although he found out one day, didn't hear the end of it. My dad was a snitch" you muttered the last part.

Peter laughed "Your suit is awesome by the way," He asked "I made it!" You smugly said. Peter let out a huff in amusement. "You? You made it?" He said as if he didn't believe your statement but he knew full well that you were capable of making something like that.

You scoffed "Of course I did, I mean how couldn't I?" Peter rolled his eyes at you, he then averted his gaze back to the city. Hanging out with Peter made you miss your Peter more; Sure they were different in so many ways but they somehow share the same traits.

"I've got to go Peter" You sat up from your position, as Peter did the same following your action "See you around?" He asked, "Of course!" You outstretched your hand for a fistbump and he gladly reciprocated.

You both went your separate ways, as you continued to swing back to your dorm. The whole way there you were thinking about how you're gonna tell Gwen this but that didn't really register when you arrived back at your dorm.

Will you're not inside your dorm, more like outside banging the hell out of the window "Gwen! Open this window right now!" You shouted but not too loud, careful to not wake up your dorm neighbor "Hoy Gwen! Anak nang- open this right now Gwen!" (Hey Gwen! Son of a-- open this right now Gwen) You groaned.

Gwen wasn't asleep, you can clearly see the light from your shared bedroom. To no avail, you just decided to give up "tangina, mandaan moto Gwen!" (son of a bitch, mark this day Gwen!) You spoke lastly as you tried to find a window that can access the hall, you just hoped the security guard was asleep.

You found one "Take that Gwen!" You muttered. You already took off your mask and covered your suit with a jacket. You gently closed the window as carefully as you could to not cause some attention. You smiled to yourself "'Another night another slay and I served--" and you spoke too soon.

You felt someone crash into you but you didn't fall it just surprised you, but the person who bummed you did. Miles groaned as he tried to focus his vision, he swore a huge guy must've bummed into him but then he looked up.

"Oh"

"Are you okay, wait-- are you sneaking out?" You asked as you help him up "N-no" he stuttered. He regained his balance then he finally got a good look at you.

Your hair was disheveled and you got a bag forming under your eye but you still look good, at least that's what you think about yourself.

You hummed looking at him suspiciously "Right..." He looked anywhere, avoiding your observant eyes "I-- uh, I was trying to--" he rubbed his neck with his dominant hand while his other hand was gesturing around.

You laughed "Dude relax, I'm not gonna snitch on you-- unless you're trying to snitch on me" You feigned seriousness "No! I-I swear I will not!" He replied almost immediately.

"I'm just playing with you, but if you don't want to get caught, don't go this hall if you're trying to sneak out"

"Then why are you here?"

You pursed your lips and clicked your tongue "I- you-" Miles knitted his brow together, awaiting your reply. You let out a sigh.

"you know what? I think I'm gonna snitch on you" You narrowed your eyes at him. Miles laughed, his previous nervous demeanor decapitated and instead, he tried to cover it up with faux confidence.

"you can't do that now, can you? I'm Miles Morales." he smiled. He had that kind smile that can make you melt.

"You're new, right? I-- I'm actually new too" You noticed he was growing nervous. You nodded "I guess...I saw what your dad did earlier" you smirked, as he groaned in embarrassment.

"Please don't make me remember that," he said with an exaggerated sigh. The scene between Miles and his Dad brought a frown across your face, it awfully reminded you of your dad.

"Oh, I doubt that. That's gonna stick with you as long as I'm near" You started to walk as he followed after you.

"I never caught your name--"

"Probably because, I didn't throw it, Morales" you blatantly said. Miles rolled his eyes a growing smile made its way to his lips.

"I didn't mean it like that, and just call me by my first name, it's weird" You chuckled "Sure, Morales" Miles threw his head back laughing.

The pair of you blindly walked through the hall, forgetting about the curfew entirely "Aren't you going to sneak out?" You asked Miles.

Miles chuckled nervously "I was gonna, but I'm just too tired, you know?" Miles wanted to sneak out and talk to his uncle but he didn't want to miss this opportunity into making friends.

"Am I really that good to hang out with for you to miss your daily sneak-out sesh?" You smirked as you leaned in closer to him. Miles was tense he couldn't say a word, your breath was fanning onto him and he can basically smell your perfume.

Suddenly a whistle echoed at the end of the hall making both of you turn your head to the source "Isn't it a bit too early to shag your classmate!" The guard shouted. "you'll both face deep consequences about this!"

"Run." You whispered into his ears, and Miles swore he could feel goosebumps. Before he even got time to process his dilemma, you grabbed his arms without warning, and god you were strong.

"Isn't it a bit too early to listen to the exclusive spider man Christmas song?!" You shouted with a laugh. Miles who heard your statement snorted and let out a bark of laughter.

"I didn't know you had such great taste in music!" Miles counter back and laughed. He peeked from his shoulder to see the guard who was running after the both of you; the way the guard ran made Miles laugh even harder his stomach hurting.

You looked back seeing the same thing and just like Miles it had you crackling. To say the guard wasn't flustered was an understatement, that enough made him determined to catch you both. Both of your laughter was so loud some of the students came out of their dorms and that alone distracted the guard from chasing after the both of you.

It took you a while to find a safe place to finally get peace. Mile was out of breath, he was panting like a dog; with laughter mixed with a full lap run, who wouldn't?

"you look dehydrated," you said out of amusement.

"Really? I didn't think it was that obvious" he remarked between ragged breath.

You sat down, him sitting down next to you, he was still out of breath "Why are you so unaffected-- I mean like, you basically ran through the whole school" You side glance at him "Mama mo blue." (Your mom is blue) that was so out of pocket even for Miles. Honestly, you didn't feel like talking, you loved Mile's company but you were just too tired, everything was just so overwhelming.

"No she's not, bet yours is" That made you chuckle, Miles understanding parts of your Filipino jokes brought you smiling wider.

"My mom is dead." You laughed seeing Mile's color drained from his face "I'm so sorry--" he was genuinely trying to apologize but he burst out laughing making you laugh harder.

"I'm serious though-- I'm sorry" his laughter subsided, replacing it with a sympathetic look "No need, Miles. It was a long time ago" You smiled reassuringly at him.

Miles grinned, looking mischievously at you "What?" You asked "You called me by my first name" he wiggled his brows "Oh fuck off, dude" You punched his shoulder gently but he still made a sound.

You felt your phone buzz, averting your attention to your phone. Miles watched your smile turn into an annoyed frown as you saw the text on your phone.

"where are you?" you mocked in a high-toned voice. Miles let out a huff of amusement watching you "Now she's worried when she was the one who locked me out!" You complained.

"Roommate?" Miles asked feeling quite the same as you. You hummed.

"my roommate is always on his computer 24/7 sometimes I can hardly sleep at all," he said still looking your way. "Will, let's just say my roommate likes to play pranks with me" you muttered.

"Didn't it cross your mind that maybe she does that because...you always start it"

You scoffed "Strong accusation, but fair point-- and I need to go, she's spamming me" You stand up from your position as Miles frowned.

"You still didn't tell me your name," he said while standing up. You narrowed your eyes, surely you won't tell him your name but you thought of a cool nickname to piss Gwen off.

"Gwendolyn Garcia" you held back a laugh, pursing your lips to conceal it. "Will see you around, Gwendolyn" he enthusiastically said.

"Copy that" Hearing that made Miles groaned loudly and you throw your head back laughing. You both went your separate ways with the previous event still in mind. Miles for sure will cherish the night. You in the other hand still can't sleep.

_____

Tag list: @itstooearly-its3am

[megamindsupremacy]

Misc PJO Fic Recs (Part 4)

The Stolen God by TsarinaTorment

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus?

-

Baby Blofis College Fund by zipadeea

Valerie calls her an hour later.

“Sally, what the hell?”

“That bad, huh?”

“Bad? Sally, it’s gold. I went from squirming in my seat to crying genuine tears. And that twist, making him a Greek god, it’s exactly what we’re looking for right now. How soon can you get me the next chapter?”

***

In which Sally Jackson realizes by the time the new baby is eighteen, a semester of college will cost an arm and a leg. And those Fifty Shades of Grey books sure did make a lot of money.

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to bet on losing dogs by furnaceglow

The thing is,” Apollo said, the coolest prisoner of war in all of time. Prometheus wasn't prone to jealousy, but even he felt a drop of envy at how relaxed Apollo was in maximum security. "How to define a man…are we talking ontology here? That’s broad scope, bigger picture. We can include ourselves in that definition. Philosophy otherwise! Our good man Diogenes. You remember Diogenes! Or are we specifically talking about man for the sake of man? Is this about anthropology, is what I’m saying.” “I’m open to all interpretation,” Prometheus said. “Been a while since I’ve had good conversationalists here. Krios is all grunting, and Hyperion is solely interested in making his quarters nicer.” “Well, he has an eye for interior design, I’ll give him that,” Apollo said.

In which Percy Jackson ascends to a reluctant godhood, his mother loses the war but wins a battle, and for once, Prometheus picks the winning horse.

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and if your eyes don't speak by Pixelfun20

Estelle Jackson is seven years old when she meets her nephew for the first time, over a grainy Facetime call.

OR

Estelle grew up with stories of Percy Jackson, but it takes meeting his son to realize who he really was.

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the carriage held but just ourselves by Writeous

The official story is this: Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, just two months shy of their seventh wedding anniversary, hurtle off a cliff on a lonely mountain road. A tragic accident, a sharp turn taken too quickly. Their 2023 Prius was found buried under debris, three hundred feet below where witnesses claim they fell. Paramedics declared them dead upon arrival, suffering blunt force trauma as their car collapsed with them inside.

The real story is this: Percy and Annabeth watch as Hecate’s children create perfect duplicates of them that are promptly hurled off a cliff. Percy loved that Prius.

(Or: at the end of the Titan War, Zeus offered Percy immortality. Percy was mistaken in thinking it was an actual choice.)

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Dawn Rises From The East by TsarinaTorment

During the Battle of Manhattan, Michael Yew fell into the East River; his body was never found. Two years later, a homeless kid known only as Ferret has a chance encounter that changes everything he knows.

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Annabeth and the Nine Step Career Plan by feeling_the_aster_9145

Annabeth Chase does not accept limitations. Everyone knows that. If she wants something, no matter how impossible, she will find a way to make it happen. Though, perhaps she will allow Bruce Wayne and his ridiculous paranoia-induced company restrictions a small portion of the credit.

Actually… now that she thinks about it, the man may have had a point in his worries.

Wayne Technologies does not accept college interns. Annabeth always has a plan B.

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is it really a crime if you don't exist? by MidnightBunny

"So, what you're saying is," Percy said, staring at the man in front of him. "you're me from the future."

The man took a drink out of the coffee cup in his hand. "Yup."

"And you're here," Percy said slowly. "Because Annabeth's brother's boyfriend is trying to prove the existence of the multiverse."

The man nodded.

"And you got sucked in when he turned it on."

Nod.

"And now you don't know how to get home."

Nod.

"And how did you get sucked in, again?"

The man mumbled something.

"What?"

"I was coming back from the bathroom and opened the wrong door."

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(I'm so excited this one is back y'all, the author privated all her works but just unprivated them a few weeks back so now I'm recommending you read all of her stuff, especially this fic)

Son of Sea Foam by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

“She’ll never claim me,” he whispered. Silena shook her head, eyes wild as she looked around for anyone who could be watching.

“My mother doesn’t remember half of her children as it is,” she said with a note of bitterness. “If you do something to impress her, it won’t matter. Return the bolt in her name. She’ll claim you if you act the part. If you stay unclaimed then they'll figure out what you really are," she said, squeezing his hands tightly. Percy's heart sped up.

"I - I don't know the first thing about Aphrodite-"

"My mother was born of sea foam," Silena cut him off. "And if you're really who I think you are... you are the sea. You can pull this off," she said and touched his cheek. "Get the bolt. Survive," she said. Percy swallowed.

"What if I can't act the part?" He asked. Silena's expression went blank for a moment. Slowly, she slipped off her bracelet and placed it in his hands.

"If you're going to be one of us... you better learn."

Or

AU where Percy has to hide the fact he's a Big Three kid otherwise he'll be killed on the spot. Unfortunately for him, unclaimed kids tend to raise the most suspicion... but he might have found a loophole in the form of Aphrodite.

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This fic on tumblr that’s one of the best PJO fics I’ve ever read