#and as an anomaly that destroyed a universe (probably)

[iz-star]

My thoughts and guesses / theories about Zayne's upcoming main story branch.

Like I've said in previous posts, I've been hella busy with work and most of all, exhausted so I haven't been able to come here and scream about the game updates (let alone draw something) but I still want to summarize my reactions from the past few days.

About the main story update, I'm really excited to see what's going to happen! I love the Dawnbreaker references but I have to be honest, I don't really think this is Dawnbreaker, he's still Dr Zayne (they both are part of each other somehow, but you understand what I mean).

Here's why:

At first, I genuinely thought this time we really would get the chance to interact with Dawnbreaker since Zayne is wearing DB's outfit and not a jumpscare outfit like in Snowy Serenity but the more I watched the trailer, the more I realized that this is still Dr Zayne which both makes me feel alleviated (cause if it were to be Dawnbreaker, it would leave us wondering where Dr Zayne is) and scared cause if he gets to suffer/ sacrifice himself in this time line like he did as Foreseer and MoF, I don't know well how I'll handle it.

He's a male lead so I don't think they will kill him off (? but somehow with Zayne one never knows, he's honestly always surprising us. In any case, my wildest theory is that if something happens to Dr Zayne, then we'll continue his branch with Dawnbreaker... idk? Anyway, don't really pay too much attention to this since it's most unlikely that something like this happens.

The impression I got after watching the trailer so many times is that this is actually Dr Zayne in the process of becoming 'Dawnbreaker' (maybe not exactly his other self but the concept) which has been one of his biggest fears; the reason? Because the Xander Sciences experiments, the severe cases of Protocore Syndrome and Metaflux anomalies are probably speeding the process of humanity to get doomed since in Dawnbreaker's world, humans turning into wanderers is something pretty recurrent and the very reason Zayne is a killer and his world is apocalyptic. Dr Zayne knows of this, he knows using protocores in human hearts is dangerous (the very reason he gave up his research in university), he also knows that to be exposed to big quantities of metaflux is what turns humans into Wanderers, he knows it because when he and William fought side by side in Mt Eternal, it was in order to destroy a Protofield that got out of hand and the Metaflux anomalies there were bringing to land more Wanderers. It was until they destroyed the protofield when William started to turn into an Abomination and then, a Wanderer.

In the trailer, Dr Zayne says something like 'We have no choice but to destroy this place" so my guess is that there is another big Metaflux anomaly like in Mt Eternal but this time in a place where there is a lot of ppl and due to being exposed to it, they're turning into Wanderers, something that Zayne as a Doctor can't cure: "Aren't you a Doctor. You should've save me!"

In fact, this is something he can only cure as Dawnbreaker:

I'm really interested to know who was the guy who asked Zayne to kill him. My guesses are:

William (and this probably a flashback).

Carter

Greyson (most unlikely since the voice didn't mach but goshh could you imagine the angst if it was him??)

So if there is another Metaflux anomaly it means that there's a Protofield that got out of hand and it probably was in either Akso Hospital or Xander Sciences company cause they had a special patient that accoring to what they say in the trailer, had a fragil heart that would've stopped long ago.

If I'm not mistaken (and since I'm currently sleepy and feeling lazy) in the World Underneath anecdotes Carter and Xander Sciences tried to keep some patients alive or to revive them using protocores and keeping him in pods but it didn't work? However, long before these anecdotes were released, we knew that there were already organizations doing research about immortality:

It seems that 'A special energy field' is necesary in order to reach better conditions to regenerate the human heart. What if this 'special energy field' is something similar to a Protofield? If we remember correctly, in both Rafayel and Xavier's myths MC's heart was necessary for them to live immortal lifes? In Rafayel's case, she seemed to give ppl some kind of energy? But at the same time she couldn't leave their city neither. In Xavier's case, her heart was like an unending source of energy for Philos core and they wanted to feed Philos core with her so they would stop to sending humans and then Philos core would stop crearing wanderers.

In both cases, it seems that MC is the source of energy of a Protofield that both gives it enough quantities of energy to keep it balanced and making ppl within this field to be immortal (like her) without the risk of becoming wanderers. In Rafayel's myth, she was already the source of this field, so there are actually no wanderers in this myth. In Xavier's myth, she wasn't the source of it so they were creating wanderers bc of it.

What if in this case, Xander Sciences discovers that the key to reach immortality lies in creating a Protofield with enough energy to create the needed conditions to regenerate human hearts for indefinite amount of time and that the KEY to achieve this lies in MC's aether core??

What if what Zayne is trying to protect here is MC's heart so they won't use her to reach immortality, EVEN if he knows that this most likely will avoid tons of deaths and will stop the creation of wanderers and ALSO will avoid his future as Dawnbreaker but even so he chooses to save her, just like he did as Foreseer and Master of Fate.

And lastly, he mentions "When that day comes... When I can't wake up" my only guesses are:

His nightmare of becoming "The Grim Reaper" will become true.

By destroying the Protofield that is creating the anomaly, he also freezes himself?

Maybe he steals part of MC's power or even he takes the creatio protocore he gave to her as Foreseer and uses it on himself so instead of using her as the source of energy for this Protofield, he offers himself as this unending source of energy? (This one is quite wild and seems unlikely to happen but I still wanted to mention it ahaha).

Anyway these are all my thoughts for now. Please take this with a grain of salt, since these are only silly theories and nothing official. We'll have to wait some days more to discover the truth.

[starburst-selfship]

I really hope no one here thinks I excuse every one of Miguel’s actions just because I love him. Like nuh uh he should’ve never done any of that to Miles?? The 15 y/o he projected onto?? I’m sayin this out of love but he needs his ass whooped in BTSV

[reareaotaku]

Rev! Pine Twins vs Pine Twins [Pt I]

When Bill was destroyed, all harmony was restored in Gravity Falls

At least, that's what everyone thought. What they didn't know was a portal from another dimension opened in the middle of the woods. It wasn't discovered until many years later

Years later, the Pines twins returned to Gravity Falls as Older Teens/Young Adults

You were thrilled to see your old friends again. It seems you weren't the only one either. You and the rest of the group [Dipper, Mabel, Candy, and Grenda] went into the forest for old time sake

What you all weren't expecting was aa portal in the middle of the woods. You had seen a blue glow and not thinking you decided to go towards it

Dipper tried calling your name, but you were enchanted by the blue light

What you didn't expect was to see the portal down a hill and fall off the cliff you were on

Dipper saw and was quick to grab your hand, but you ended up slipping out of his grip and falling into the portal

The portal shut when you fell through and Dipper started to freak out

Starts having a panic attack and tracks his sister's attention. He doesn't even know how to speak and tell his sister what happened

Though, when he finally does get it out, the first idea is to ask Ford what to do

You rubbed your head when finally landing. You groaned as you pushed yourself up and looked around, confused. It was... Gravity Falls? You tried calling your friends names, but there was no answer

You push your way through the forest, before finally entering the town, only to realize something was very wrong

This was not Gravity Falls... At least, not your Gravity Falls

It was different... The first thing that gave it away was a big sign that said 'Gleeful Twins Tent of Telepathy'

"Yeah... That's not right."

You went through the town, because this universe had to have a Ford and maybe he could help you

You were brought to a large tent that had people pouring in

Imagine your surprised when you bumped into a taller male and when you went to apologize it was-

"Dipper?"

His surprised outweighted yours, though. "Y/n?" He shook his head. "no, no."

You looked around before shaking your head, "No, that's me. But I'm not from here."

"Not... from here?"

"Yes! I was in the forest with my friends and I saw this porta-"

"Okay. Okay. I'll help you."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Little did you know, that the version of you died a few years back, along with some other town's people and there was no way Dipper Gleeful was going to help you leave. He had already lost you once, he wasn't going to lose you again

"And- And she fell through this portal!" Dipper was finally able to get out.

Ford hums, rubbing his chin, before going to his books. "Ahh, yes. She probably jumped through an alternate universe. We just have to find out when one and get her back... We just have to find a timeline that has an anomaly."

[wifey-ohara]

ok ok I got an idea

what if Miguel ohara found an orphan who was a spider and decided to raise her🥺

I love this sm🥺🥺🥺

Under my wing

Fatherfigure! miguel&spidy!teen!Fem! Reader

Notes: some angst at the start but the rest is fluffy, good dad miguel, distrustfull reader at first, road trip writing, hcs and drabbles, can you tell i can't write good father figures? That's bc mine doesn't like emotional support:) not proof read

💙Miguel was fighting off an anomaly with some other spider people, shouting orders left and right, when he ordered some feral-looking spider and she went exactly against his order which he was gonna follow them, save her and then scold her about being reckless

🩵but then he noticed that that specific spider was not from his team

💙he saw her swing forward, hit the anomaly with both legs, knocking it off it's feet, and he took that chance and tied it up with webs

🩵she did a couple flips and landed, looked back, and miguel could feel her intense stare at him

💙he was about to call out for her, and maybe even invite her to the spider society

🩵With a roll of your eyes and a "tsk" you jumped forward, swinging away

💙when miguel returned, he searched up your earth and information about you

🩵he found out that you only a teenager living a double-life, been bitten by a spider as a child, and that your parents were your canon and that you're alone in there

💙so he visits your earth a lot to check on you

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

~you said goodbye to your friend and watched them disappear from your sight, leaving you with that uncomfortable feeling of eyes on you, you felt this way alot ever since those many spiders appeared the other day

With a sigh you walked over the little abandoned apartment complex you lived in, put your back pack there and put on your spider suit to patrol the streets

Miguel on the other hand, he only got more protective of you and needing to keep you safe as he watched from afar

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

🩵you didn't see miguel again until another gaint anomaly destroyed your home

💙you were just taking the sight in, the rubble, the dust, the destruction, another home crumbling before your own eyes, and again you couldn't save it, so you just stared at it, thinking what stuff of yours survived,probably none

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

You sighed, deeply, then, your spidey senses were ringing in your head, you turned around, ready to fight whoever it is, pulling down your mask

It was that big spider-man, and you felt uneasy about his stare, but you pulled your mask off anyway

" what" you attacked,no actual violence in your voice, you were so tired, and now even more homeless then before

"you're looking at the apartment complex a little too long" he answered, calm, yet somehow knowing? You hated that

"yeah well i lived there" you rolled your eyes

"it looks abandoned?" he inquired yet teased, you hated the brain games he's playing

"i never said others do, also cut the crap, what do you want" you snapped weakly

"ok" he lifted his forearms in front of him "i noticed that your are most times alone, and homeless as it turns out and i wanted to invite to the spider society" he offered

You were quiet for a moment

"so it was you" you yelled, annoyed "why the fuck were you stalking me like that, was it so hard to

talk to me?"

"no but i need to know you before inviting people into my society" he reasoned

With a scoff you asked "what's this- pfft- i don't know spider group thing?"

"a society from people just like you from other universes, team up and fight off what might be in the way of the smooth running of multi-verse, seeing your circumstances, i think you'd like it" he adviced.

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

🩵And boom! You→in spider society!!

💙you sticked to miguel's side most time, he didn't mind one bit

🩵you'd sit in his office while he works, scrolling on your phone/tablet (or whatever you like) that miguel got you despite you arguing that he didn't have to

💙"I've seen the kids carrying them around, i think its important to y'all or something " he argues,knowing damn well that its a luxury thing

🩵you get him lunch everyday and you two eat it together, talk about stuff and all that father/daughter all that good stuff

💙you two joke around lots too! You'd crack a joke and he'll chuckle and add to it until you're crying laughing

🩵you join him on most missions, its more of you swinging and playing around and helping whenever you can, and he actually fights it off

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

"oh my god!" you yelled when he stopped beside you "are you spider man!?" you asked him, acting like a fan girl who just saw her dream idol

His wide eyes turned into an eye roll at you as he swung away again

You laughed about to get down from the wall you were clinging on, when it broke with some force, knocking you down

A surprised noise tore off your throat as you fell down, you turned around, your back facing the ground, looking for something to web yourself to

On the other hand, miguel felt the life leave his body

He's losing A daughter, again, he couldn't let that happen

He swung to you, wrapping you in red webbing just as you webbed yourself to another building, he pulled you up to him and held you

"are you ok!" he checked frantic, looking you over for the smallest cut

"I'm fine" you smiled "it just caught me off guard "

He sat you both on a surface, gears turning in their head, then he took a deep breath "go back to HQ" he told you, voice gentle

"what? Why!?" you asked, surprised by his offer

"just do what i say.. Please" he pleaded

"alright.." you argeed, releasing his arms as they lowered from your shoulders

Stepping back, clicking a few bottoms on your watch, making a portal appear behind you

"be safe!" you said, before stepping into it

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

💙you two didn't talk about that day since

🩵you of course knew about his daughter and past

💙 that day, he acted weird, and you just thought that it was because he had a long day

🩵he became more protective of you, not letting you go to as many missions as before, it annoyed you a bit but you chalked it up to you being reckless and careless and he couldn't have you fucking up missions

💙he'd call you things like "mija" or "niña" yk indearments and cutesy stuff like that

🩵you're so petty most times, and you like to get under his skin so you and lyla gang up on him

💙he doesn't like hobie being around you, but you do, soo that's that..

🩵he teaches you (mostly technology) stuff and answes all your questions

💙after a year and some months, you gave him "the best father" gift card on Father's Day and he went home and cried about it

🩵after that he became even softer (somehow) with you

💙"I'm proud of you"s and "good job kid"s were a reaccuring

🩵he asked to move in with him from the HQ rooms and you agreed, and hugged him

💙he spends more time off now, with you, learning more about you hobbies and interests, cheering you on

🩵you started calling him dad, he teared up the first few times when you did, still warms his heart everytime

💙he helps you with school, and not in a "WHAT'S 5 TIMES 7 while you cry " kinda way lol

🩵he scares off any dating possibilities too

💙if you have a bad day, he'd be a lil sad that you didn't call him first thing, but he'd buy you/make you your favorite food and sits with you and listen to you ramble about it if you want, if not, he'd sit with you on the couch watching a movie

🩵he lets you do wierd things on his face ( "dad they're called face maskes!)

💙he tells you dad jokes ironically, you always roll eyes at him

🩵you're an endless supply of old man jokes ("mija I'm not even that old what the fuck")

💙so yeah,it's happy vibes all around

You guess it, next is probabs platonic hobie

[buckysmith]

How they met you

Spiderverse

Includes: Miguel O’Hara, Jessica Drew, Hobie Brown, Miles Morales, Peter B Parker

Let me know if I have to put a warning

Reading is on your own. Not proof read

Miguel O’Hara:

- after destroying an entire universe to live a life that was not his, he forbade himself to ever open his heart again.

- no matter if it was for love or friendship

- he was afraid to lose everything again

- to see again how the people around him not only die but dissolve into nothing

- it seemed like he was cursed and had no right to happiness or better an Happy End

- he met you for the first time when he followed an anomaly

- into a world where there was no Spider-Man, no Iron Man, no Captain America.

- although he only found that out later, because before that he literally met you in person first

- the villain, who didn't belong in your universe, managed to give him a punch which threw him right through your window

- and to your sorrow, his body collided with yours, even if he tried to hurt you as little as possible he still knocked you both into the next wall/ground

-your eyes met as he got up from you

- you could not see his eyes, but he saw yours crystal clear

- something in your eyes reflected trust, care and security

- it was as if he had met you before, as if you were no stranger to him

- he didn't have much time, so he averted his eyes and went back to doing his job.

- It wasn't long before the bad guy disappeared through a portal and Miguel disappeared as well.

- but he couldn't get you out of his mind and one day the portal to your world opened again....

Peter B Parker:

- it was a typical cliché how you two met for the first time

- he had run full force into you in the New York rush, knocking your drink out of your hand and dousing you with it

- you looked like a wet poodle

- and as if that wasn't bad enough, you also had an important appointment that day

- and of course you didn't have time to go home and change your clothes

- to say you were pissed was an understatement

- especially since that joker in front of you started making jokes to lighten the mood.

- Spoiler: it didn't work

- so you just grumbled, thought your piece and continued on your way to the next store to buy new clothes

- and they say you always meet twice in life

- you wish you never saw that grinning idiot again in your life

- yeah, you thought wrong.

- but the second time was just as shitty as the first time

- because this time you walked too close to the road and when a car drove through the puddle you literally got showered with that dirty water

- the driver stopped only a few feet later, backed up and when the window went down you were greeted with the same grin as the first time

- to say it legally, you thought about how you would look in orange...

Jessica Drew

- You were on the way when you saw her for the first time

- it was already quite late and actually you wanted to be at home since 6 pm and it was near 12 pm and to your dismay you had to walk through a not so good area

- you saw her putting bags out of her car, probably she had just been shopping

- and she was pregnant.

- Hof did you know?

- her belly was hard to miss…

- you thought nothing of it and kept on walking

- the hood pulled low over your face to look dominant you kept walking until you heard several voices and a thump

- you turned around, saw how the men had knocked the bags out of her hand and were harassing her

- you wanted to look away and ignore it, but she was in danger and you couldn't accept that for the life of you, so you walked to her with quick steps

- you smiled at her while you walked between the men and hugged her

- you started telling lies that you were looking for her, that Josh and Luke were already waiting for you because they were really hungry after their shift at the station and looked at the men questioningly after that

- you looked at her and then asked how she knew those men

- with the information that she was now no longer alone and potentially two policemen were waiting for her, they left

- she thanked you and wished you a nice evening after she gave you her number

- if she hadn't seen you coming towards her, she would have dispatched the men with ease.

- but to see someone without superpowers put himself in danger impressed her

- from that day on you had Spider-Woman on your side

Spider-Punk Hobie Brown

- who would have thought that there were more universes

- sure you had it in class and always hoped there was a way to travel to them but your common sense knew that was impossible

- well until the time you fell through a portal that took you out of your universe and brought a villain into yours

- the pain you had until you were found was unbearable

- but fortunately for you, you were quickly found

- when you heard a voice saying you did not belong here and tying something around your arm was quiet and dark

- when you looked up you could hardly believe your eyes, he looked so, so animated and yet so real

- he personally brought you back to your world

- from that day on, you began to learn more about multiverses

- and from that day you had a new friend from another universe

Miles Morales:

- you wanted to do something illegal for the first time

- Spray graffiti to be more precise

- but who would have thought that you would run into Spider-Man of all people

- there was an awkward silence between you while he looked at you and you at him

- he had caught you red-handed, shortly after the first spraying attempts

- you were uncomfortable and you reached for your bag to leave, but he stole your notebook out of your hand to look at your drawings

- you expected anything, but not to get art lessons from Spider-Man

- you came every week on the same day at the same time to the point where you had met for the first time

- and he was there every time

- waiting to see you again to share his passion.

- who would have thought that the old subway station could give him not only superpowers but new friends as well

[oopsitszuli]

Grieving!Miguel x reader where he constantly goes back to a universe where they’re still married but every time he goes back he tries to make the best of it knowing that their time is limited due to the readers inevitable death and he tries his best to put a stop to it every time

"You Happened." (Miguel O'Hara x FEM!Reader! Angst Drabbles/Scenario.)

Authors note: And it is here! The long-awaited Miguel Angst fic. Thank you all so much for being so patient with me surrounding this fic. Death is a hard topic to write about for me, but I knew this was something I really wanted to write. Please read with caution, and once again, thank you for your patience.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Death, grief, depression, mentions of violence, angst, depictions of spousal death, murder, and funeral mentions.

Miguel knew he was obsessive- or, as he called it, 'work-oriented'. Jessica and Lyla didn’t have to tell him twice. Miguel O’Hara was so obsessed with canon events and keeping the multiverse in line that it kept him cooped up in the Spider-Society headquarters or away in another universe for longer than he wanted. But he did it all to protect the one good thing in his life. Every minute spent working, every fight against an anomaly, no matter how bloody, was all for her. It was all for you. (Y/n) O’Hara, Miguel’s wife and the love of his life. 

He knew he probably worked for too long, but that fact was reinstated when he returned from a three-day-long anomaly hunt in a far-off universe. Nueva York was dreary when he returned, and the rain that poured outside was relentless. Miguel hated the rain, although it was always your favorite, so he decided not to let it bother him too much. After containing the anomaly, Miguel returned to his office, only to be met by a somber Peter B. and an emotionless Lyla. He questioned their presence immediately, only to be told to sit down. 

The news that reached Miguel made his world stop. 

You had died. No- you had been murdered. According to Peter, you were trying to visit him at the Spider-Society headquarters when you were suddenly attacked by a villain who had discovered Miguel’s affections for you, and while you suffered, he was away in a far-off world, none the wiser to his wife’s murder. Miguel remained motionless in his chair, his body weak as the tears streamed down his face relentlessly. He wasn’t there when you needed him most, and now you were gone because of him. You were gone, and he was never going to see you again. Nothing even mattered anymore. 

His mind was a swarm of grief. Anger consumed his every moment, and his eyes grew sore from having cried non-stop for as long as he could recall. His hours were now dedicated to sitting in the home you two had shared, curled up in a pile of your clothes and holding them close to his chest just so he could pretend you were still there. He lay motionless, holding tightly to your favorite t-shirt and crying loudly, he cursed out apologies until his voice was hoarse and continued after. He let you die. He did everything to protect you, and he still failed. 

Having to bury your body in a closed coffin destroyed Miguel in a way he never thought possible. He sat next to your grave for hours until Jessica finally coaxed him away from you, and even then, he fought against her relentlessly. Work was abandoned, his duties ignored, and If anyone dared criticize his shutdown, they found themselves removed from the Spider-Society within a matter of seconds. Miguel was completely and totally lost, he was so desperate to feel you against him again, to smell your perfume, to kiss you…and he would never get that privilege again. 

That’s when the idea hit him. 

{{

“Miguel, you can’t…you said it yourself; The multiverse can’t be tampered with! Her death was a canon event!" Lyla was cut off as Miguel glared at her holographic figure. His gaze was unwavering, and it was apparent to the woman that he was a second from snapping at anyone who spoke against his plans. Lyla sighed softly, she hated seeing him like this, and deep down, she knew that if she were human, her heart would be breaking for him with every second they spent near each other. He looked a mess, obviously having been awake for days while in the throws of his grief, but even then, he stood here, dawned in civilian clothes but still covering his face with his normal Spider-Man mask and tapping relentlessly at the watch on his wrist.

“I don’t care, Lyla. That’s my wife, and I’m going to find her.” Miguel snapped at her. Lyla winced before sighing softly. She knew how much this was killing him, but she also knew that no matter what he did, no matter what (Y/n) he found, she would never be his again. 

“Miguel, you could destroy the universe she lives in…and you’d just lose her again.” Lyla attempted to reason with him; her voice was soft, bordering on a whisper, Miguel continued to glare at her. His glare usually had no effect on Lyla, but this one was different from all the others…He was lost. Completely and utterly lost. So as a portal to a new dimension opened, Lyla only sighed. 

“Fine. If I can’t stop you…Just promise me that you’ll be careful, Miguel.” She closed her eyes as her arms crossed over her torso. The man only nodded before disappearing in a flash of color, tapping at the watch on his wrist, Miguel would find (Y/n), and when he did, he promised himself that he would never let her go again. 

The city he arrived to was almost indescribable. Vibrant hues of blues, pinks, and soft pastel oranges mixed effortlessly in the night sky. This was Nueva York, without a doubt, but this was definitely not his Nueva York. Once chromatic buildings that he had been so familiar with now were dimly hued in shades of navy blue and dusk pink, the lights from buildings surrounding them reflecting off of the glassy windows. Miguel closed the portal behind him, the mask on his face disappearing in seconds and allowing him to feel the cold raindrops that fell around him in their entirety. The feeling of the cold air against his face, the water trickling down his cheeks, and the brisk wind filling his senses almost made the man fall to his knees. She was here. Somewhere in this city was his wife, and she was waiting for him. He assured that he had traveled to a universe on the same night his counterpart in this universe died, knowing it would be easier to replace him since this universe’s Miguel’s body would go undiscovered for months after his death. The thought sent a shiver up Miguel’s spine, but he brushed it off. He was going to save (Y/n) the feeling of the grief that consumed him so effortlessly. She would never know her Miguel died, all she would know is that her lover was home in her arms every night, and the only one who would know the truth would be Miguel. Lying to her never crossed his mind in the ten years they’d been married, but now, he would live a lie just to live with her. So, with a deep breath, Miguel swung from the rooftop of the building, masking himself again and beginning to search the city for his long-lost love. 

Miguel was searching for what felt like hours before he finally locked his eyes on an ivy-covered building resting neatly between buildings identical to itself. The lights were on, open windows allowed him to peer into the home effortlessly from the rooftop of a building across the way. His heart stopped as a figure walked in front of the window, a saccharine smile on her face as stopped to look out of the window, as if she were taking in the city block around her for the first time. Miguel froze. She looked up at the rooftop. Their eyes met so easily, her jaw dropping slightly and Miguel swinging into action before his mind could process the feelings exploding in his chest. He knew she was racing for the door the moment he left the rooftop, but as his feet hit the porch of her house and the large oak door swung open, Miguel felt the sadness facing him head-on. 

“Miguel?” She said softly, a tinge of disbelief lining her tone as she stood standing in the brightly lit doorway looking up at her lover. “You’re al-" Miguel didn’t let her finish her sentence as he picked her up into his arms, holding (Y/n) close to his massive build as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with his foot. He hugged her so gently, afraid of breaking her, as tears began to stream down his cheeks relentlessly. 

“Te extrañé mucho mi princesa..” He spoke between shaky breaths of air, not caring if his sadness may reveal the truth of his identity immediately, only caring that she was in his arms again. After a moment, he felt her arms wrap around him, her soft hands carding into his hair as she held him close to her body. 

“Rough day at work?” She questioned softly. Miguel buried his face in the crook of her neck, desperate to be as close to her body as possible. He took in a deep breath, the scent of her perfume filtering into his nose and making the man feel his knees grow weak. 

“You have no idea..” Miguel chuckled softly, collecting himself as he begrudgingly pulled himself free from her hold. She was here. She was breathing. She was alive…His wife was alive. And as she looked up at him, eyes glimmering in the lamplight of the foyer of their house, Miguel felt all of his grief begin to shift. “You know that I love you, right?” He spoke oh so softly. His heart skipped a beat as she nodded slowly, a smile on her lips and her hands taking hold of his. 

“I do…And I love you too.” Your words were gentle, just like they always were. “Now come on, Mrs. Behnam dropped off some Halva, and it looks absolutely delicious.” Gently, you urged him to follow you as you tugged on his hands. Miguel chuckled softly before nodding. He didn’t care if what he was doing was wrong, he was here with you, and you were alive and breathing. 

He wouldn’t ever let you go again. 

The week that followed was the happiest Miguel had been in a very long time. Holding you close to his body in the night, kissing your lips so sweetly, and spending the days with you in the comfort of your apartment. It was paradise. 

Although. Miguel had noticed some oddities in the past week…you seemed duller than you should be, with bags under your eyes and exhaustion riddling your face. You looked almost dreadful. He knew It couldn’t be because of his counterpart’s death seeing as you were none the wiser to the fact. But still, he heard muffled sobs escaping the bathroom in the dead of the night when you slipped away from him, he caught the moments you would wipe at your lips after he kissed you, and he found it strange that you seemingly never let him be seen outside of the house. It was strange, he’d admit it, but if it meant he got to be with you, he would conform to whatever you wished from him. 

A week. That’s all Miguel would get. One week of happiness and blissful ignorance is all he would get. On the night of the first Sunday he would spend there, he found you standing alone on the balcony of your home, looking out at the city around you as you took in the peaceful night. His eyes were locked on your figure, and immediately he knew something was wrong.

“(Y/n), darling? Are you ok?” Miguel’s voice was barely a whisper as he walked to your side. Slowly, his hand found its place on the small of your back, ever so slowly daring to inch up to your shoulder. You remained silent, only leaning against the iron rod fencing around the area of your balcony as Miguel examined the side of your face. Miguel felt his heart begin to race, and he couldn’t deny that he was consumed with worry as he noticed the smile you normally wore was long gone. As his hand landed on your shoulder, he felt your body shudder, and his eyes widened. 

You were crying. 

 Tears streamed down your face with no remorse, not even daring to spare you the embarrassment of being discovered by Miguel in this state. The brunette man beside you felt his free hand move without hesitation, preparing to place itself on your cheek and wipe away your tears before you flinched away from his touch. His hand faltered, and his heart threatened to stop.

“Stop.” You spoke bitterly, a heart-wrenching glare shooting up at Miguel as his hand pulled back quickly. ‘What?’ His mind took off faster than he could handle, ‘What happened?’ He questioned internally, his heart skipping beats as nerves crept up his body. This past week was paradise for him and you, every minute of every day was spent with him pampering you with the love you deserved. He thought back to every second he’d spent in your presence, trying to figure out what he could have done to upset you. And he kept drawing blanks. 

“(Y/n)? Sweetheart, what happened?” He asked oh so gently. His words were hushed, each one delivered with such carefulness it seemed as though he were afraid of hurting you by simply speaking. Your eyes flickered up to his, your heart faltering as you noticed the expression now painted on his face. Miguel looked so lost, his eyes glimmering with fear as he looked down at you steadily, his gaze didn’t falter as you straightened your posture and ran your hands over your flushed cheeks. A soft sigh escaped your lips, and your glare seemed to soften as you noticed the worry painted across his face. Miguel knew you’d seen this worry before, if not on him, on the face of his counterpart. But at this moment, the way you looked at him made his heart skip a beat, the anger in your eyes was entirely new, and you looked at him like he was someone you didn’t know. 

“You happened.” You whispered. Your voice was bitter with betrayal, a wave of anger lacing your tone so easily it was almost as though it was natural for you. Miguel felt his eyes widen, taken aback by your comment. He almost stumbled backward, feeling as though he had just been hit by a freight train at full speed. 'He happened? What?' His confusion was evident as he looked at you. 

“You’re not my Miguel….” A soft sigh escaped your lips as you reigned in your tears. Miguel felt his heart skip a beat.

You knew.

You figured him out.

Oh god. You knew...

“What?” He asked breathlessly. His hand pulled away from your body as he took a step back. Your eyes scanned him over, bitterness dripping from your gaze as you did. 

“My Miguel had a crooked scar on the bridge of his nose and a lopsided smile.” You pointed to Miguel’s face before your hand fell back to your side, “My husband died three weeks ago…he died in my arms…I buried him alone….you are not him.” Your voice was soft as you spoke, pain evident in your tone. Miguel couldn’t even begin to defend himself. What he’d done was horrible. The realization of the pain he must have caused you tore a shaky gasp from his lips as he looked away from you. 

“You died in my universe..” He began, only for you to cut him off all too quickly. 

“And you died here.” You snapped at him, “But I didn’t steal my dead husband’s multiverse goober and run off to find some grieving Miguel and try to replace myself.” Your argument was valid, but Miguel couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. He knew what he did was wrong, he just didn’t want to accept the reality. 

“It’s not a goober- it’s a gizmo..” Was all he could respond. You let out a laugh of pure annoyance. His audacity was truly record-breaking. 

“That is really not important right now.” You hissed through gritted teeth. Miguel looked back at you, the defeat on his face apparent. 

“Sorry.” He murmured. You only rolled your eyes. “Please, (Y/n), You have to understand why I did this…I had a chance to have my wife back-.” He began to try and defend himself, but you quickly shut him down. 

“Miguel, I completely understand, but this needs to stop. And it’s going to stop.” Your tone was laced with a wave of sympathetic anger. Of course, you understood why he did what he did, your husband died in your arms, and you were left completely alone..deep down, you knew that you had to bury his multiverse watch with him in order to keep yourself from doing what the Miguel in front of you did. But that didn’t make anything any better. You understood his grief and his loss, but you understood that having him here was chipping away at your heart relentlessly. Miguel prepared to argue against you, but you put your hand up in a silencing motion. 

“Miguel, you need to go home.” You began, your hands clasping over your heart, “I can’t keep looking at your face…his face…it’s killing me. Every day I wake up, and I see you lying there next to me, and the only thought in my mind is that you’re not mine…” You fought back the tears that pooled at the corners of your eyes again. Miguel might look like your husband, but he never was, and he never will be. You knew you’d never see your husband again, and the man in front of you only made your heart break with every second he spent at your side. Miguel looked away from you, his eyebrows furrowed as he realized he'd been caught in his frivolous attempt to return to his life before his wife's death. That grief, the guilt, it was so evident on his face, but even if it made your heart hurt, you couldn't let him stay. Slowly, you turned your attention back to the glimmering city surrounding the two of you. 

“Y’know…I left the door unlocked for weeks…waiting for him to walk back in and just tell me it was okay.” You whispered softly, “I watched his body be put in the ground, but I still held out hope…and then you showed up, and I wanted to believe the lie I'd told myself.” Your hands held each other gently, trying to support yourself with every breath you took. Miguel looked down at you, standing by your side after a sigh escaped him. "I wanted to believe that he was back, but this, this is too much...and everything hurts worse knowing that someone I don't know is wearing my husband's face and sleeping in our bed."

“I know how you feel..” He whispered gently, “When you- when she- died, I felt like the last good part of me died with her…I’ve never been more angry with the world.” His confession was weighted, and it was clearly the last thing he wanted to admit as he spoke with obvious hesitation. 

“But it didn’t. Miguel, you’re still so good and so loving…You’re just hurting right now.” You argued gently. It took everything in you to be gentle. Truthfully, you wanted to scream, to slap him across the face and let him have it for everything he put you through…But something was stopping you, and you knew exactly what it was. That goddamn face of his. If he looked like anyone else, you’d have no problem giving him your full fury, but that was his face, just missing the scar and the smile. You sighed softly as no response came from the taller man, your head hung low as you rested your forehead in your crossed arms. You’d always been strong, but right now, you just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, right now, you just wanted your husband. Miguel knew it too. Miguel watched as you toppled over, your arms crossed on the iron rod railing and your face hidden as you leaned down. You did that a lot, hiding your face when an emotion became too much for you to handle, he always found it cute. But now, he just felt bad…no, he felt horrible. 

“How do I fix it?” He asked softly after a few minutes of silence passed between you two. You looked up at him quickly, your eyes wide with surprise as you heard him speak. “Other than going home, I know I have to do that…” He added before you could say the same thing. 

“Well…I guess you go live the rest of your life doing what she would want you to do…Do you think she’d want you to be miserable all the time?” You began slowly, your posture straightened as you looked up at Miguel. The mention of his wife from your lips made him look away, it was obvious that whatever happened to her truly haunted him. 

“I feel guilty too, y’know.” You added. His attention snapped to you immediately, his eyes wide before he turned away. “I see it written on your face, you feel guilty about her death… don’t you?” Your eyes locked on the side of his face, your gaze unwavering as you watched him.

“I wasn’t there when she needed me most…” He whispered. His breath was shaky, his hands held to the iron rod fencing in front of him tightly. "She was killed because of me."

“Miguel, even if you were there, nothing would have changed.” You stated the obvious. Miguel knew you were right, he just hated to hear you say it. “I was there when my husband died, and I couldn’t do anything to save him…” your voice grew bitter with grief, and quickly, Miguel’s eyes flickered to yours for a second. 

“Do you think about that night a lot?” His question came with a sudden crashing weight on your shoulders. His eyes held your gaze, unwavering and laced with the knowledge of your answer. Of course you thought about that night. How could you not? The image of finding your husband bloodied and bruised on the dark concrete of an alleyway a few miles from your home haunted you.

That night haunted you. 

You remembered the feeling of falling to your knees at his side, gently holding him in your arms as sadness immediately flooded you..it always seemed that before you knew what was happening, your heart knew what would come. You remembered the look on his face, how hard he tried to console you, but the fear in his eyes spoke louder than his words, your husband wasn’t a scared man, but for the first time on that night, you saw fear trap him and hold him hostage. You remembered how you begged him to let you call an ambulance and how when you reached for your phone, he stole it from your hands, he knew he would die no matter what, and he wasn’t going to let you waste your last moments with him on the phone with paramedics. 

‘No…no, you gotta look at me.’ He would say softly, his blood-soaked hand holding the side of your face gently, ‘I love you. Okay? Don’t you ever forget that- you are the love of my life, and it was an honor to have known and married you.’ His eyes shut tightly as a bolt of pain shot through his body, and your heartbeat quickened to an alarming rate. The fear, the anger, the denial- it was too much. Your husband was dying, and you could do nothing to stop it. There was nothing you could do to save him.  

‘Mig…save your strength, let me call them, please…let me help you.’ You begged through consistent tears. Miguel looked up at you sadly, his body growing colder by the minute. 

‘You’re so strong, so resilient, and so unbelievably stunning…I wish I had more time to tell you just how much I adore you.’ He smiled up at you, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known a love like yours, and I am so thankful that you let me be your husband.’ And with that, his hand fell from your face, a shaky breath escaping his lips. You watched in horror, begging whatever god might be out there for this moment to be a horrible dream. But as Miguel’s chest rose for the last time, you realized no one was coming to wake you up. 

“Of course.” You finally answered. Miguel nodded slightly, looking back to the city surrounding the two of you. 

“I’m sorry..” he murmured. You shrugged your shoulders, everything sucked, and everything still hurt, but what could you do about it? Miguel seemed to share your silent sentiment as his hand ran through his curly brown hair. The two of you fell silent for a moment before you spoke up, disturbing the already uneasy night. 

“I think it’s time for you to go.” You spoke softly, a gentle bitterness lacing your tone. Miguel’s head fell forward in defeat as he buried his face in his hands. 

“I don’t know if I can go back.” He mumbled, your eyebrow raised. You knew he could. If he was anything like your husband, you knew he could go back and return to the life he once led, just a little bit more broken than before. 

“Well, you have to.” There was a gentle sternness to your voice, “And if you don’t go back to your universe, you can’t stay here. And you can’t go find me anywhere else…It’s cruel and unfair.” You lectured him softly, earning a nod of agreement from the man. He knew what he did was wrong, and it was apparent to you that it was hurting him just as deeply as it was hurting you, now you just needed him to leave…and never return. 

“This feels like losing you all over again.” He complained softly, his hands visibly shaking as he lifted his head from his hands. You turned to face him in your entirety, and gently, you took his hands in yours. 

“But you’re not losing her. You’re walking away from a version of her that isn’t yours.” You reminded him, earning a soft sigh from the taller man. You knew that your words were harsh, but someone had to say it, and you knew you were the only person he’d listen to. Miguel remained silent for a while, and you could see the war waging in his eyes. The ruby-red eyes that peered down at you were so conflicted, one side set on ignoring your anger and refusing to leave, whereas the other side was wracked with guilt and knew that he had gone too far. Miguel knew which side was right, and as he took in a deep breath, his hands gently squeezed yours. 

“I can never apologize for the pain I caused you…I was so blinded by my grief that I ignored the damage I could be doing, and I am forever sorry for that.” He spoke softly as if he were afraid his words would cause you harm if he spoke too loudly. “I’ll return to my universe…Thank you for being so good to me while I was here. It was nice- having my wife back for a while.” Miguel’s voice dropped to nonexistence as he peered deeply into your eyes. You took in every word he spoke, a sympathetic smile forming on your face. He stepped away from you, pressing a few buttons on the watch on his wrist and keeping his eyes locked on yours as a vibrant explosion of colors appeared behind him. His portal home waited expectantly. 

“Goodbye, Miguel.” You spoke softly, “It was nice having you back…But I sincerely hope I never see you again.” A pained chuckle left your lips, and Miguel nodded in understanding. He gave you a soft smile before turning over his shoulder, disappearing into the portal that closed behind him seconds later. Slowly, you turned back to the city surrounding your home and took a deep breath of air. Your husband was gone, but a part of you felt relieved knowing that in the multiverse surrounding you, he was still somewhere out there….for better or for worse. 

Taglist:

@sobbing-bunny @callsign-blue @tp-spiderflo @simpingfor-wakasa @nerdcorewhore @musicalhistorical

[weebsinstash]

Okay this is probably gonna sound really weird but this specific scenario is stuck in the brain—

Thinking of that version of things where you helped YouTwo make friends, imagine if, in some subjective way, they’re better than you. Not in a “better spider person” way, but more like a slightly more appealing face kinda way? Like you barely look different but if you put your faces into one of those evaluator things they’d get a higher score. Maybe they just have good makeup out smth idk. It doesn’t necessarily have to be this but just some random way that YouTwo is thought of as “better”

But eventually, the spider people start actively treating the copy as the original, because they have it in their heads that the original one they love is the best, so the “better” of the two must be the original. Instead of confusing psychological warfare through mix-ups, reader is actively pushed down and away by the spider people, and at this point they simply move away to a normal part of Nueva York (or their home universe, depending on how we’re doing this) since the rest of the society is clearly happy to focus all their love on the other one.

The good bit comes whenever YouTwo slips up, whether by returning to their home universe if reader’s is supposed to be destroyed, making a bad comment, or just any other kind of mistake that makes the entire lobby pause and look like 👀

Because it’s not just the reveal that they’ve been believing this imposter for potentially months now, but also the fact that they now realise they pushed you away and made you feel like shit the entire time

After whatever punishment they see fit for the imposter is carried out, Miguel is rushing to find where you’re staying now so he can try to apologise or explain or try to make it right or something—

But when he’s standing at your door and running through all the events in his head, seeing how pissed you look at him, he’s wondering how he could ever convince you to love him again (he can’t help but default to kidnapping you and controlling you until you understand a fraction of how sorry he is)

Idk that’s just where brain took me— for me, at least, the best bit is the spoiling and smothering that would take place after, wanted or not!

I wrote this at midnight on my phone soo pls forgive if it’s incomprehensible lol

I'm always incomprehensible with weed or lust so you're good here lmao

Honestly I've been trying to sit and brainstorm 1. How does the Society start mistaking YouTwo for you and 2. How does this actually even work

You know how you can say "hey alexa" and she'll activate and then take further commands, but she's technically always listening to be able to receive the "hey Alexa" command? That's fucking Lyla, dude. I don't know if she's connected to every watch or just some of them but like, dude Lyla is an extremely powerful AI? How would you ever escape? It's not exactly clear how wide-ranging her abilities are, but as a program, she's not limited like you and I are. She can technically be listening and in some way processing and recording every single conversation that someone with a watch is having, or... maybe I'm thinking too much into it but sometimes I'm in the middle of brainstorming a you vs youtwo idea and my brain just goes "well wouldn't Lyla technically be there to set the record straight, wouldn't Lyla technically ALWAYS know who you are?"

And I think the answer to this problem... is to just say fuck it lmao! It's a fanfic and Lyla isn't always technically watching everything everywhere all at once even in canon right? She didn't immediately pipe up when Gwen reconnected with Miles in the beginning of ATSV, even though it technically would have been part of her prerogative to stop anything that would interfere with anomalies or the Spider Society. Technically speaking if I stayed completely 100% canon accurate this is how it would go:

YouTwo: --and they've just been pretending to be me this whole time! Please believe me Miguel, you KNOW it's me 🥺 uwu

Lyla within 5 seconds: heeeeey this is awkward but the electronic signature on your watch says you're the other one though lol? And the go home machine scans your dna and dimensional signature and the original doesnt even have a home dimension anymore? Plus here's some recorded audio from Reader's watch where you were threatening them and telling them no one will believe them if you replaced them, sooo.... awkward!

Like how fucking funny would it be if YouTwo is in HQ and is talking to Miguel and others and really playing their part and Spider Byte suddenly sees you log on this dimension's equivalent of Xbox lmao. Margo just looking back and forth and realizing holy shit. Or Reader deliberately ordering delivery food while YouTwo is out stealing their life or teaching their class and then when the delivery Spider shows up at your apartment that definitely only you have access to, that also helps kinda set things straight

I've even thought of like, you become depressed and start letting YouTwo do whatever they want and one day someone is banging on your front door and it's them "Hey you can't just COMPLETELY disappear, I don't want to work your fucking job everyday anymore, you have all these responsibilities and some of these people ALWAYS want to spend time with you" and you just smirk "oh no, guess that's your problem, 'real me'"

It's like. I'm trying to make it believable but if I ever do write the full fic (which I'm trying to but at this point I'm pulled between many different ideas) I want it to be believable? Like, for example, a lot of my dumb werewolf audiobooks have the protag being bullied and abused, and listening to those makes me MAD. I want readers to read this story and how you/Reader is being replaced and tricked and I want people to FEEL emotions about it, not just roll their eyes "this would never happen/this is so OOC"

But no definitely the yandere rose colored glasses start completely fucking you over, and I think another catalyst is, you seeing how "genuine" all your society friends act when they think it's not the real you you're talking to. Like here's an example i thought of. What if youtwo had the exact same hero name and real name as you and you're out and about one day and Miguel approaches you and he just CALLS YOU A NUMBER. Like say your home universe is 1217 and YouTwo's is 1712 and Miguel just walks up to you, "what are you doing here, 1712? You're supposed to be helping with construction in sector 6" and meanwhile you're just like holy shit do some people legitimately not even call YouTwo by an actual name, are these people more evil than I originally thought, holy shit no wonder YT wanted to steal my life" (and it's partially because depending on the person they either think of YouTwo as a Dollar Tree version of you and are nice to them as well but prefer you, OR they hate YouTwo outright for "daring to defile your image" and have the same voice and face as you, they think youtwo brings shane to you or whatever)

So not only are you starting to become upset about feeling replaced and feeling like you were never important to them to begin with, but then you're realizing that, either overall or with certain actions, that a lot of people are more outright mean and heartless than you originally thought?

And you're standing there "oh YouTwo has smaller pores and clearer skin than me, YouTwo actually knows how to dance at the clubs and parties,

BUT NO the shit where they suddenly start pointing out or criticizing things about you they've never commented on, just all of a sudden they have a LIST of things they dint like about you, when you're rhe same you've always been, SHIT HURTS, THAT'S THE DRAMA AND PAIN I'M LOOKING FOR

Miguel over here finally confronting YouTwo "and your little groveling for everyone's attention is so pathetic! Those empanadas you left on my desk weren't even good! They had all the wrong ingredients and they weren't crispy enough, i had to keep throwing them away--

You: a-actually, um, I was the one leaving you food so that you would eat. The first time came out really bad but i got better after the first time. You didn't like them, or did you not even eat them after the first time? 🥺

Miguel: --and they were fantastic, made me think of my Abuela, really took me back to my childhood, spectacular, outstanding, 5 stars

People start just "sounding off at YouTwo"

Pavitr: you wanted to try and make chai and it was so bitter my auntie poured it down the drain!

Porker: and when I introduced ya to him, you made Roger real uncomfortable with the "jokes" you made about him and his wife, which weren't that funny by the way!

Hobie: your style is conformist, it's like you have no real sense of self identity. Why did I see you at one of my concerts in a shitty leathet jacket and some brand new converse? You don't even know punk lace code, and you didn't even say hi, you just lurked like a creep

You: God DAMN that was ALL me, do you guys like ANYTHING about me????

And like, depending on what I choose or your personal preference I guess, the Spider Society has it rough too! Wait, so YouTwo WAS impersonating you, but it started when you LET THEM, and then there were times you could have came forward but didn't and basically "allowed" yourself to be treated like shit and have everything progress, so there's this, huge lingering doubt in tons of people of "wait so when was I actually spending time with Reader and when was I with the fake? Oh shit you're telling me those times the fake was rude as fuck to me, that WAS Reader, but they were rude because they were mad I didn't know who they were? But they didn't correct me and let me keep being mean to them????". Miguel is over here tearing his fucking hair out because UGH YOU'RE SO FRUSTRATING 😤 why did you let it get so bad, don't you know you could've came to him for help at any time?! (Except he totally lost your trust when YouTwo framed you for that elevator collapse from that one previous idea and he totally 100% thought you did it) but he still loves you and knows You're Going Through It, but, he definitely is. Relieved you're still ok but mad at you? Or disappointed? He's updating Lyla to keep a better eye on you, he's swapping out your watch for one that tracks and stores more information and is more personally customized, he may even decide, maybe he's got a little bit of an anxiety problem after everything that happened and he's paranoid "someone will try and take you away again"

It definitely is not your choice whether you return to the Spider Society or not, and I wouldn't put it past them to have you be "guarded" 24/7 from then on. Why is your Spidey Sense tingling when you're just out in the lobby getting some air? Because even if you can't see your loyal protectors, they sure can see you, from every visible surface, and next time you think you're alone in your apartment, well, some of your buddies CAN turn invisible. Maybe you were never really alone as you thought?

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Pretty boy pt 2

Part 1-

So when you left, you didn’t actually leave. You had followed Hobie, sneaking around behind him. You saw him meet up with two others, and narrowed your eyes.

“Domino? Shatterstar? Jane?” You mumbled.

(Jane is weasel)

“She uh… slipped away..” Hobie said.

“Bullshit.” You mumbled, he had let you slip away.

Pavitr groaned “Bro, this is why we said we were gonna help. We’ll just… regroup tomorrow, Miguel will probably understand.”

“Yeah.” Gwen said, and the three of them grabbed the large cells, the three of your teammates banging on it and yelling.

They walked up to the portals, and you quickly ran up into the one Hobie went into.

You crouched behind him, luckily they were in the room with all the anomaly’s. Hobies eyes widened, and he looked back to see you. His spider sense going wild.

They set them down and went to go debrief. Hobie glanced one more look at you before leaving.

Once you were sure they had left, you went over to domino, Weasel and Shatterstar

“Holy sh- are you guys alright?”

“They beat our asses.” Shatterstar mumbled, sitting down defeated.

“Hey, c’mon. They’re good. Don’t worry, I’m gonna break you guys out.”

“We tried.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, and grabbed your katanas from your back, trying to slice through it.

Your katanas broke, and you groaned in annoyance. Great.

A Rhino behind you snickered at you, and you flipped him off.

You sat against the cell, waiting for something.

“What are you doing?” Weasel asked.

“Waiting.”

“For what? They’ll just put you in a cell.”

“One of them won’t.”

—————————————————————-

You waited for a while, and then you heard someone mumble your name. He webbed up the camera beforehand.

You came out from the hiding spot, giant smirk on your face.

“Did you fuckin’ follow me?”

“Had to. Can’t resist my British men.” You said the last part in a mock accent, to which he scoffed at.

“No, I just had to find my friends, who are clearly..” you pointed to them.

“Yeah. Nothin’ personal.” He shrugged. “You all need to go back to your universes.”

“Oh, come on, where’s the fun in that..?” You took off your mask, and batted your eyelashes at him.

“Nope. That ain’t gonna work on me-“

“Worked on you last time.” You said, and in an instant were next to him.

“It ain’t workin’. Nope.” He went to web you up, but instead he hit the walls, because you dodged his webs and grabbed his hands.

You kissed his cheek “Aww. Can’t believe that you would do that to me.” You pouted at him. He stared at you, and moved his hands away.

“All right. Jus’… this is only cause I’m not following orders from Miguel.” He mumbled, and took a few minutes to get everyone out of their cells, and getting them their watches.

“So sweet. You’re such a sweet boy, you know?” You teased.

He swallowed, and looked the other way.

“Sure you don’t wanna take up that offer?” You asked him, turning to your team who was waiting on you.

“Can’t.” He shook his head.

“That’s too bad..”

Then his watch started to beep, along with your guys. A message popped up.

“Anomaly breakout.”

Hobie looked at you guys and sighed. “Can’t believe I’m bout to do this, come on, there’s another way out.”

He led you to a room, a quiet small one with a door in the back, behind all the anomaly’s.

“There’s sensors, so jus’ follow my steps.” He said, and walked carefully. You could tell that he’s been here lots of times before.

Everyone else had gone successfully, while you had accidentally made on wrong step.

A bunch of guns came out from the walls, and pointed at you.

They all looked at you with a “are you serious?” Face.

“Oops….?” All the guns started to shoot at you, you dodged a few, doing cartwheels and just having fun while doing so, but also got shot a few times.

The holes quickly fixed themselves up.

“Ow, too bad I didn’t have my katanas or I would’ve like… destroyed all of them.” You said, and stepped to where everyone else was.

Hobie just stared, in shock.

“Why do I even bother with you anymore.” Shatterstar rolled her eyes as she began walking in front of Hobie, he still just stared.

“Got a staring problem?” You said, he just rolled his eyes.

“Nah, I was staring at the floor. Dunno what you mean.” And continued to walk.

“So… how the hell do we leave now?” Shatterstar said, she had reached the exit, but the only problem was that the exit was a 30 story fall down, one only a spider person could get down from.

“Hobieee..” you sung, and looked at him.

He glared at you, looking down and looking at you again.

“This is fucking mad. Can’t believe I’m still doin’ this.” He grabbed you, and you yelped in shock when he started to fly through the air, you hid in his chest, he just focused on getting you all down.

He then went back for the others, having trouble with Domino specifically, who had refused to be carried by him. But eventually and hesitantly agreed.

Shatterstar was also saying no at first, saying that he was below her. He just rolled his eyes and picked her up anyways.

“There, you all happy now?” He said.

“Yes we are. Thank you.” You kissed his cheek again.

“So.. back home it is for us..” Jane mumbled.

“Yeah. I guess so.” You set the watch to your guys world, and looked back at Hobie.

“If you ever want, here ya go.” You handed him a small ripped piece of paper, with the words “world 10890.” (Jus made sum up LMFAOO)

The paper had small smiley faces, and hearts, along with some unicorns on it, and a horribly drawn stick figure you saying “come visit (::”

He just stared at you, then he leaned over, and gave you a proper kiss.

“Yeah.. I’ll come visit.” He mumbled, putting the paper in his pocket as you smiled.

“Till next time, pretty boy.” You saluted him as you backed up into the portal.

——————————————————————

Tag list:

@enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo @hobiebrainrot @anonima-2

[rofax]

Okay okay okay just saw Across the Spider-Verse and have A Thought. Hear me out:

Miguel is not a "true" Spider-Man.

(I KNOW he is a Spider-Man in comics but the movies are establishing their own canon so stay with me here.)

I feel like the movies planted a lot of flags about how he is so, so fundamentally different from the other Spiders. Consider:

• He enters and has a CAPE. Spider-Man doesn't wear capes. It's disrespectful.

• Why is he getting a musical sting that is reminiscent of Prowler's? Why does he get a villain score? Extra suspicious given the big end reveal about the universe with no Spider-Man.

• "I'm not a bad guy!" "You look like one!"

• Peter asking, "Spider-Man is supposed to be funny. Why aren't you funny?"

• He says he isn't like the other Spider-Man's. Maybe he means because he makes the hard choices. Maybe it's more than that.

• Comic Miguel injects himself to get the powers of the Earth-616 Spider-Man. This Miguel is also seen injecting himself to get his powers. There's not really any indication of when this started. I'm thinking it started AFTER he lost his "family".

• He found a world where he wasn't alone and took the place of that Miguel when he died. IIRC, at no point does it show either versions of that Miguel as Spider-Man. Just that this Miguel had a family and he wanted that (ala kingpin).

• When the big anomaly is destroying that reality, why does he not just thwip thwip away with his kid? Does he not have powers?

• He is furious at Miles for robbing a reality of its Spider-Man, but surely he did the same thing when left to take the other Miguel's place?? Unless he was never Spider-Man to begin with.

• Spider-Man dying isn't part of the spider canon we have been shown. Why would it be so disruptive for Miguel to take his place? JUST because he is an anomaly? The other Spiders in the first movie didn't fundamentally destabilize Miles' reality, they were just going to glitch apart themselves. It shouldn't have such a butterfly effect for Miguel to do what he did, unless maybe the original Miguel was adjacent to Spider-Man. Maybe he was the cop who died in that world. Maybe he was the Uncle Ben figure. Somehow his death was important to the Canon.

• Why does he not bring up his Uncle Ben or his cop-close-to-him dying? Why is his tragedy only the one he created and not the usual Spider canon?

• I know he's a cool cyberpunk Spider-Man but he's the ONLY one we see with different colored webs. He is very visually distinct from the others.

• "Are your sure you're a Spider-Man?"

Theory: Miguel was just a scientist who found a world where he wasn't alone and stepped into it. When he brought on destruction by being an anomaly to the Spider-Canon, he chose to become a Spider-Man to preserve the canon and keep the universes in tact... but he was never supposed to be a Spider-Man either, just like Miles. He doesn't follow the canon either.

Also I think because Miles and probably Miguel exist outside the Spider-Canon, they won't be bound by it and will be able to disrupt it. I feel like a significant portion of Miguel's redemption arc/Heel-Face-Turn is going to be realizing Miles is right and helping him because neither of them should have been Spider-Man but both of them became him anyway. Because anyone can wear the mask.

[dedenneblogs]

quincy doodle world hc / analysis time— long post so beware!!!

Quincy gets attached to others really easily. It’s mostly because he’s so used to people abandoning him, whether that be his “friends’” fully chastising him or his father being absent and leaving massive shoes for him to fill.

So he pushes people who genuinely care about him, to an extent, like Portia and (maybe) Reginald away out of fear that the people he’s naturally made to be close to in life will one day abandon him like everyone else, so becomes distant and cruel because of that.

(on the topic, i say “to an extent” because Portia’s (unhealthy) attachment can very well be rooted in her own issues which i’ll get too someday because i love sharing my crazy thoughts and Reginald could very well just been being playing butler for pay, unless his and Quincy’s history goes back further who knows though we haven’t seen the guy since the first key)

Because of this, when he’s placed into a situation where he’s forced to gain independence (after Reginald is teleported to DoodleCo City and his private jet is destroyed) he grows the closest he’s ever been to anyone in his entire life: Player, Suzie, and TJ.

Since he lets his true colors shine (which is first seen near the end of the Book key arc when he finds solace in healing your Doodles), he forms this attachment where he always feels like he has to give back to others to make them stay (the already mentioned healing, the Miracle key arc (which i’ll get to), plus really wanting to help you out in the future while you’re rescuing Suzie).

This could also tie back to his background as the son of Charles. The bullying he endures is obviously rooted in him being “DoodleCo Jr.,” so he tries to defy this image of a spoiled brat when he’s surrounded by people (you and your friends) who see him as a person.

Then again, the Miracle Key arc shows him join forces with DoodleCo again. I see this as him falling back into old habits when he was reliant off the company’s luxuries, but it seems he only joins their “side” because of TJ doing so first; if TJ hadn’t done so, it’s very likely he would’ve stuck by our side.

So I see his decision based either one of these two factors or both:

1. Quincy understands how TJ must feel. He knows what it’s like to be perceived as something you’re not (universal anomaly; spoiled brat). Not to mention it’s eluded to in game of the twos’ character arcs ironically paralleling one another (Quincy starts as a rude only to become kinder at the same time TJ to become more rude, their worst attitudes both based in the expectations placed onto them).

(it’s also funny and weirdly poetic to think the person who is causing TJ’s torment and thus behavior would very well be a Quincy from the future / alternative timeline, Zavier)

This is why Quincy sticks by TJ’s side during the Miracle key arc and why it probably stung even more to feel like he lost him after he departed from the group and devolved into a worse person. And if this continues, we could see TJ become more horrid then Quincy was at the beginning of the game, which would be REALLY interesting to see.

2. That being said, another factor that could’ve influenced Quincy could possibly be him having a crush on TJ (ok listen).

The Frigid key arc shows TJ calling out your friend group for someone having a “crush” on someone. Now, if I’m being honest, this is probably referring to Quincy and Suzie, who very well could be endgame based off their bond strengthening PLUS helping Quincy get over his issues of abandonment, which is a theme that’s revisited at the beginning of this arc through Quincy falling back into old attitudes in the aftermath of TJ leaving.

However, from the perspective of those in favor of what seems to DW’s most popular ship (look on AO3, it’s yaoi slop central there), it’s possible this mysterious pairing is Quincy and TJ. Quincy claims that TJ is his best friend, and would add onto reason for him joining him during the Oasis key arc and could further tie into his need of helping others.

That being said, I see as being unlikely. If this pairing is to exist in any form, I’d see it more as being one-sided on Quincy’s behalf, giving so much of himself for TJ but never reciprocating anything from TJ (ah… toxic yaoi— checkmate Quilt shippers /j).

BUT YEAH uh that was a lot lollllll

(thank you @taruth3mighty for influencing me to vomit my doodle world thoughts)

[trashlama]

Heeeeeyyyyy.... guess who's ADHD can't let them write for shit?~ This bitch✨~

I suuuuuucck guys I know! I did a poll and everything just so I would have to write some of these! I just couldn't help but get side tracked.... My brain is in the LMK and Spiderverse fandoms!!! Though I will say I basically got this Rise Donnie x Big Mama Assistant req almost done. Almost I say. We'll see if I post it in the next two days and not something else random instead.... I suck lol

Anyways— here's my 3am thoughts from the other night that I'm finish up tonight ironically at 3am again. Soooo bare with me these are basically a bunch of summaries/plots/not fully flushed out possible one shot ideas I might do. Probably could've re-read it a couple more times buuuuttt it's about to be 4 now so....

I hope you guys enjoy!

Sorry this is long↓ I don't own these memes. I've never claimed to do so. I just come across them on Pinterest when I'm on break at work and think they're funny so I like to share them. If I mistakenly put one on here that I shouldn't have please let me know! I like to respect people's wishes. And if you could add the creator names too that would be great so the same mistake isn't made twice. Sorry for the inconvenience that my sharing may cause. I hope you have a good day.

+++++++++++++++++++

Sooooo I was going through the Across the Spiderverse tag(specifically Miguel O'Hara) because you know he's hot. Priorities— Anyways— I kinda had an idea. Brahhzz what if I just took the whole Miguel kidnapping his dead wife/lover's alternate dimensional copy deal that everyone has been throwing around and introduced a new take on this tale?

We all know that the Spiderverse is very open to a wide selection of possibilities and versions of Spiderman and we're all aware that the same thing applies to other characters as well. Soooo who said that Y/n has to be a civilian/or a version of Spiderman for this idea to work?

My fellow peeps I introduce to you Earth 2099 Miguel O'Hara x  Villain/Alchemax worker/Morally Grey scientist Reader!

I can kinda see this playing out in a few ways.

1.)Villain reader investigating the strange phenomenon that occurred a couple months before hacking the multi verse and stirring up trouble. Miguel intervenes and takes what he wants.

For the last year since the bizarre phenomenon in downtown Brooklyn you've been stirring up more trouble than you typical due to collecting the materials needed for your "experiments" to figure out what that phenomenon really was and what the hell was Alchemax —your ex-employers— were up to with your research. With some finessing of the illegal kind you figure out what the corporation was up to. Before being fired you had discovered the existence of the multiverse however before you could investigate any further you were let go. Now that you have your research back you're able to Doc Octo this shit and break into the multiverse. If you could pull this off nothing was stopping ya' from fulfilling yer goal and maybe scoring some fame while you were at it. After some convoluted ass science mumbojumbo. You manage to Doc Octo this shit and break into the dimensional web that held the spider verse. Inside the alternate universe you immediately start messing up shit straight off the back as soon as you fly through the colorful portal. Miguel is quick to pick up on this anomaly and sends some Spiders out to handle the issue. Long story short— they fail. Forcing Miguel's hand to go and correct the anomaly himself. Only to find that it was you. Her. His dead wife/or dead lover. The only problem is that you're obviously not a good guy. Miguel being Miguel will try to rationalize it to himself as he demolishes your equipment/suit that you're not his Y/n, you're a villain, he can't keep you without risking a whole universe just for his selfish desires. However as he stood over your defeated helpless form. He decided. If one anomaly can exist and not destroy existence why can't another? There were ways around this. There had to be. Holding you in his grasp again the hero wasn't sure if he could let you go once again....

2.) You're an inventor/scientist that works at Alchemax/or your another rogue scientist . Either way you're looking to get into the Spider verse. Since the phenomenon from a couple months ago you've been intrigued by the strange occurrence. The news labeled it a "strange weather occurrence" however you knew that wasn't the case. If you're working at Alchemax you've known about the phenomenon since the beginning. If you're an inventor/scientist (with some grey morals) you found out after some research and trespassing. Either way your tinkering pays off thanks to the help of some stolen tech from Alchemax and an interesting glitch from the hacked tech. You eventually have yourself a fully operational universe hopping watch. And where do you end up? Right in the middle of Earth 2099. Miguel is immediately alerted of your presence. An obvious stranger to this Jetson world you find yourself quickly apprehended by a small group of spiders/or Miguel. Either way the red & blue leotard nosferatu as soon as he catches sight of you the dude is all over you. Miguel may be a man who would like to believe he is in control of himself and his rash decisions buuuuttt that's gonna be a nah. Never had the Spiderman ever expected to speak to an alternate version of his dead wife. Especially in person. Every time he's stolen a glance it was from a distance or behind one of his various monitors. He couldn't risk ruining another verse. However somehow regardless of his attempts to keep his desires at bay you've still managed to break past that last thing that was keeping you from him. Now that you're here the thirty year old wasn't sure if he could let you leave him again...

3.) What if instead of breaking into the multi verse. Alchemax employee/Morally Grey scientist Reader! is lured into the multiverse? In your home verse the Miguel who you had married was dead. Struggling with piling debt and depression you choose to bury your problems under research into the weird phenomenon that occurred in downtown Brooklyn a few months before. During this time of trial and error you figure out how to access the multiverse thanks to some misplaced Alchemax files and risky choices. The documents aid in building the device that would aid in your plan to find your ex-husband's alternate universe copy. All the while you were walking right into Miguel's clutches. Cause like you Miguel was having an equally hard time getting over his family's death. Although they are gone the widowed father couldn't help but, search for his loved ones amongst the various worlds that rest at his finger tips. He needed them. He needed you....and you needed him. Although you guys weren't from the same earth you both can replace the pain that was birthed from this tragedy and regain something more. Just be a family.... Hopefully you want to play his game because Miguel couldn't watch from the sidelines any longer.

Alrighty guys that's all for now! Sorry if they're a little all over the place. Regardless I hope you guys liked them and I hope you guys have a good week!

[ab4eva]

‘Tomorrow Will Be Too Late’

Part 4

Summary: Elvis Presley x Reader / For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved two things - Elvis Presley and time travel. After seeing the 1968 Comeback Special for the first time, you decide to try and get back to him for one incredible night, by any means necessary.

Author’s note: I’m not even sure if anyone is still interested in this story or not but the next part is finally here. It was an absolute nightmare to write, I was stuck for so long. I honestly didn’t even know if I was going to keep writing it but I surprised even myself. Very special thanks to Ally (@elvisabutler) who helped me get over the hump when I was incredibly blocked. You probably wouldn’t be reading this chapter if not for her. And my Lovely Ladies of Graceland for the encouragement, help, wisdom, friendship and motivation. The boot scene idea and one line is courtesy of the lovely Marina, so thank her for that hotness.

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Language, infidelity, oral (f. receiving), boot riding (yes really), daddy kink, angst, mention of death, a scary episode that might be considered close to something like a seizure.

Word count: 7,401

TWBTL Masterlist

-

The thing no one ever mentions about time travel - in movies, in books - is just how lonely and isolating it really is. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a crowd of people, or one other person, you’re still alone. You can’t ever be your true self because who you are doesn’t exist in that world, in that particular time and place. You’ve come from your own time, where you belong, to another world entirely, where your existence is an anomaly. A disruption. Wrong. And you feel it. The wrongness of it all. It pushes on the back of your head and the sides of your temples and the backs of your knees. Almost like an invisible force is trying to knock you down. You feel off balance, as if you could fall into an abyss at any moment. It sets your teeth on edge and makes your bones ache. You didn’t think you’d feel a physical toll on your body but you do. The longer you stay, the stronger it becomes. You can no longer ignore the pull towards home, your own place in the universe.

-

The sharp ding of a text message startles you out of your reverie and you pull your eyes away from the window you’ve been staring out of. Looking down, you see it’s your mom…again. You really should give her a call but you just can’t manage to bring yourself to, not yet. You’ve been back home a week now and so far you’ve managed to shower, once. Order in groceries. Cry. Watch a little bit of TV. Cry. Stare out the window for long periods of time. Cry some more. You know your family is probably worried but you’ve been able to hold them off by telling them you’ve been sick and will call when you’re feeling up to it. You thought maybe you’d be in a little bit of a better place than you were a week ago, but no. You’re still just as destroyed as when you left 1968. When you left him. A fresh wave of tears crashes over you as you think about that last morning…

Scattered thoughts pull you from a peaceful slumber at Elvis’s side. You’re not ready to wake up, not yet, but before your eyes are even open they take hold like a wildfire burning through your brain and won’t let go. Not ready to contemplate everything but knowing you’ve already stayed here longer than you should. Your heart seizes at the thought of leaving Elvis and suddenly your body is ice, the blood running cold in your veins, and you lay there a moment, almost paralyzed. You look over at his still sleeping form and it gives you a moment to study him. Face relaxed in rest, all of the cares and worries he’s been holding onto this week have slipped away. He looks peaceful, like a little boy. No, not just any little boy, but the boy he was, the pictures you’ve seen of him from Humes Junior High School. You wonder at how this man before you can change so quickly from one thing to another, how he can hold both things in him at the same time. His face is leaner, baby fat gone from his cheeks and chin, nose ever so slightly thinner, but it’s the same face. Plush, pink lips curved gently into a smile, even now, long, dark eyelashes splayed across his cheeks, straight eyebrows framing it all. You're tempted to kiss him awake, to start a fire that can’t be quenched. But you stop yourself. If you start now, you’ll never stop. You’ll never leave. And you have to leave. It’s already breaking your heart but your time is up. You feel it in your bones, deep inside. That fragile line you followed all the way back here, to him, is now pulled taut, and it’s tugging you back, inch by inch. You think it might break if you’re not careful and then where would you be? No, you have to go. The sooner the better.

You carefully disentangle yourself from the sheets, mindful not to disturb Elvis, your eyes lingering a moment too long on his sleeping form, before you remind yourself why it is you’re leaving his bed in the first place. You’re doing it for him. You don’t belong here, in his life. You shouldn’t be here. You could fuck it all up and that terrifies you more than the thought of leaving him does. You float around the room, quiet as a mouse, retrieving the few things you have. You hope he doesn’t wake up, as painful as is it to slip away without another word. You just can’t bare the thought of looking into his eyes, hearing his voice, feeling his hands on you. Seeing him smile playfully, that pink tongue touching his top lip when he finds something amusing. Or whispering in your ear as his hand finds it’s way to your back as he leads you down the hallway. Not now, not today. It would you break you in half, and you can’t have that, not when you need every piece of you whole for what comes next. It’s better this way. This way, it’s just a fling, something passing and trivial. For him, anyway. For you it’s more than that, much more, but you can’t stop to give these thoughts any air to breathe, lest they pull you under and drown you. You dress quickly, quietly, running a comb through your hair and slipping on your shoes. Turning back around you’re nearly startled to death, jumping out of your skin as you see Elvis sitting up in bed, arms crossed, silently watching you, a look of barely contained fury on his handsome face. Shit. You stare at him, frozen in place and heart jackhammering in your chest, any words you think to utter die on your lips the longer this silent showdown continues. You open your mouth to say something, anything, to fill the void but he beats you to it.

“Save it honey,” he says through gritted teeth as he throws the covers back and stands up, long legs striding over to where you’re standing, pointing a finger in your face. “You could have told me if this was just s-s-some kind t-t-trophy for you. Something to brag about to your little friends? Who else have you f-f-fucked, huh? Mick Jagger? Robert Plant? You some s-s-sort of rock star w-w-whore?” He hurls this at you with venom, his emotions betrayed by that old stutter, intended to hurt. And it does. In more ways than one.

Your mouth drops open and you feel tears threaten your eyes. It feels as if he’s punched you in the gut, you’re so unable to breath or think beyond the pain his words have sliced through you. He’s towering over you, chest heaving, pulse beating wildly under his jaw, his silk pajama shirt open to the waist. You’re in agony, your hands itching to reach out and hold him, reassure him that he’s gotten it all wrong. You realize not only is he angry, he’s also hurt. Hurt by the fact you would just thoughtlessly walk out on him after the past two days. That you could. Your heart is already broken by the fact you have to leave him but to leave him knowing he feels more than just a fleeting passion for you is overwhelming. You shut your eyes as tears spill down your cheeks, your hands balled into fists at your side, trying to gain a bit of strength to do what must be done. You open your eyes, expecting to meet his fractured blue ones but he’s no longer standing in front of you. He’s sitting hunched over on the end of the bed, looking defeated and weary. Your heart shatters just a little bit more and despite your better judgement, you find yourself kneeling in-between his legs, an echo of last night, but this time no one’s having fun.

“Elvis,” you whisper, your hands hovering on either side of his cheeks, hesitating just a moment before taking his face in your hands, “look at me.” His eyes are downcast, refusing to meet your gaze. Stubborn, headstrong, impossible man. “I’m sorry. I…” you stop, unsure of what to say, how to make him understand all of the things you cannot say. “Listen, I thought this was just a fun little fling for you. I know…I know how these things work, I wasn’t born yesterday.” He does look up at you then, meeting your eyes briefly, a hint of embarrassment in them, before looking away again. “And - the truth is…” you swallow back the tears that are threatening to fall again. “The truth is…I like you. You have to know that, Elvis. I thought it would be easier - for me - if I just…slipped away. It’s a self-preservation thing. And I see now that I was wrong. I’m sorry. Really I am.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stays where he is, refusing to look at you, silent. And then the tears you were holding back start to fall, and your hands on his face feel like they’re on fire and you drop them to your lap. Suddenly, it’s all too much to bear. You are overwhelmed and exhausted by the last 48 hours - the pleasure, the pain, the disorientation, the otherness of your situation. You crumple in on yourself, curling into a ball at his feet, letting the feelings crush you as sobs wrack your body. You don’t care what Elvis thinks of you - don’t care that he might think you’re crazy or emotional or complicated. All you want right now is for the pain to stop. You wish you’d never come. Wish you’d never known how his callused hands feel on your delicate skin, the way his mouth fits perfectly on yours, like two puzzle pieces slotting together. Wish you’d never known how his voice sounds first thing in the morning, all sleepy and raspy, his southern drawl that much stronger, before he became aware of himself, before he became the Elvis everyone expected him to be. Most of all, you wish you’d never known what it feels like to be loved, even for a brief moment, by Elvis Presley. Because now you know it feels like you can breathe again, for the first time in a long time, and you don’t even know when it was that you had ever stopped. It feels like coming home.

You’re dimly aware of his hands on you, of the shushing noises he is making as he runs his hands over your body, trying to get you to calm down. If you could see his face, you’d see regret and sadness there, the fact that he is apparently the cause of all your heartache, his own feelings forgotten for the moment. It broke something in him to see you like this, ripped his insides up just a little. He’s never met anyone so emotional, so prone to tears, and rather than anger or annoy him, it makes him want to take care of you, to stop those tears and never have to see them again.

“Come on now, honey…calm down. I’m sorry, I-I-I didn’t mean what I said before, I was angry. I shouldn’t have said those things.” There’s a desperation in his voice that makes you cry harder, because it means he cares, more than you thought possible. His hands are on your shoulders and suddenly he’s lifting you onto his lap, though when he sat down on the floor you don’t know. You resist at first, pushing against his chest like a petulant child, your arms and legs resistant to his touch. But he pays you no mind as he gathers you close to him once again, as if he knows exactly what you need, even when you don’t - he rubs your back and lets you cry, just as he did the first night you spent with him. You’re too tired to fight any more and slump against him, chest slightly heaving as you stare into the distance, numb. You’re silent now, the tears still falling, soaking his silk pajama shirt, but instead of the overwhelming storm of before, these are bitter tears of grief, crying for what is already lost. For he is lost to you, one way or another. You’re clinging to a ghost, the shadow of a man long gone and you shiver even though his warmth is seeping into every inch of your body.

“There now,” Elvis murmurs, “sweet lil girl. Lovely girl.” He smooths the hair back from your forehead as he leans you back in his arms, cradling you like a baby, and shushing you like one too. Your tears have subsided and only little hiccups stir you every now and again, the room silent and you shut your eyes against the early morning sun that pours through the curtains.

“Now, lil one, you’re gonna tell me what’s going on. And why ya tried to sneak out o’ here like ya did,” he says softly, turning your chin gently so your eyes meet his. You expect to see some of the anger from before, but instead you see only concern and…deep affection. You will yourself to keep the tears down, to make it through this next part. This is the last test, the one you have to pass. You steady your voice and pull yourself up to sitting, being able to face him head on somehow makes this a little bit easier.

“I am sorry, Elvis. The truth is, I have to go home. I have a job and a life and…these past two days have been the most incredible of my life. But I can’t stay here…much as I’d like to,” you end quietly, suddenly shy. “And…you have someone waiting for you. This was never…this was never going to be anything more than what it is.” He smiles at you, sweet and sad, a sigh escaping his pink lips.

“I know, honey,” he says, the internal struggle in his mind apparent on his face. Finally he makes up his mind, saying, “But will ya come visit me at Graceland? I can make arrangements for…for us to be alone.” You feel your heart speed up at the thought once again of what you were doing. But more than that, the only thing making it’s way to your mind now is that he wants to see you again. Your heart feels as if it might float out of your chest. Can you promise him that you’ll see him at Graceland? No, of course not. It didn’t work like that. You aren’t even sure if you can travel again. And if you can, what affect would it have you? On Elvis? But the pull is too strong - blue eyes pleading with you, begging you to say yes. How are you supposed to deny Elvis Presley anything?

“OK,” you breathe, unable to contain the smile spreading across your face.

“Yeah?” He’s looking at you like it’s Christmas morning and you’re just the thing he’s always wanted, his face all lit up and hopeful.

“Yeah,” you whisper, pulling his mouth down to yours, kissing him, hard. Like you’re trying to imprint the memory of his lips onto yours. Like you’re trying to melt yourself into him, so that you can stay with him forever. Like you’re trying to impress upon him the memory of you, so that in his weaker moments, his loneliness, he remembers you.

-

You had told Elvis you’d see him at Graceland in two weeks. The hardest part was convincing him that you wouldn’t have access to a phone for those two weeks. In the end, you made up some story about having to go overseas for work and wouldn’t be able to call long distance. He seemed slightly dubious but accepted it, as long as you promised to take the number to Graceland in case you needed anything. That was a week ago, one more left to go. You spend every waking moment, every sleeping one too, obsessed with the thought of going back. Worried it won’t work, worried you’ll never see him again. And when you’ve worried enough, that’s when the tears come. But you’ve only got a week left until you try and create lightning in a bottle for the second time, which means it’s time to get to work. You read up on any new information or theories that have popped up in the past few days. You type out your experience, all the details, everything you remember from you trip and save it to a Word document on your laptop labeled “Bill S. Preston, Esq.” You’re still able to make corny jokes, that had to be a good sign. You connected with your family, finally, who all agreed that you looked rather weak and pale after being sick. If they only knew. Your sister was the only one who was in on the secret and she fussed accordingly over you and made you promise to be careful, take every precaution. You promised. She could see the light in your eyes that had never been there before, and feel the lightness of your spirit, which she hadn’t seen in you for quite sometime. How could she be anything but happy for you when it made you this alive.

This time you drive yourself to Memphis, it’s only a few hours away, and you figure time in the car to think will do you good. It gives you time to run through the plan again, to run through every scenario you can think of, troubleshooting in your mind as you go. You’re as prepared as you’ll ever be by the time you reach your hotel, planning on getting a good nights rest before your first attempt tomorrow. This time you’ve packed a vintage suitcase with clothes, pajamas, money…whatever you might need for a few days. He asked you to come for the week and while it excites you, it also fills you with a bit of dread. You haven’t stayed in the past that long before, you aren't sure what might happen. But it’s a risk you’re willing to take, foolish as it may be. The way you feel right now has you floating on air, possible consequences be damned. If everything goes as planned, by this time tomorrow you’ll be back in Elvis’s arms.

-

The few times you’ve been to Graceland flash through your mind as your car pulls up outside the mansion. The most intense feeling of deja vu courses through you and you shudder. You’ve been here before…but not…you remember all the tours you took of the house - this house. But that’s not what’s giving you the feeling of deja vu. It’s like you’re remembering something that hasn’t happened yet. You distinctly remember pulling up the driveway in a car like this and stopping here, in front of the steps, just as you are now. But that’s impossible. You’ve never been to the mansion in a car before, only the shuttle bus that takes you from the main entrance annex at the Graceland compound, across Elvis Presley Boulevard, through the graffitied gates of Graceland and up the hill to the mansion. Your mind must be playing tricks on you, your brain a little scrambled from the back and forth between past and present. Before you can ruminate on it any further your eyes are drawn to the front door and you see something you’ve only dreamed about. Elvis Presley, opening wide the door of Graceland, a cheeky grin lighting up his handsome face as he saunters down the front steps to greet you. You’re so entranced by the image it’s almost as if you’re watching an old home movie taken by someone else, something you’ve seen a hundred times. You don’t realize you’re just sitting there, staring at him through the window, until he tries to open your door and it’s locked. He shakes his head with a smirk and taps on the window.

“I thought you weren’t gonna lock me out anymore, little girl. You’re not tryin’ to brat up on me again so soon, are ya?” The playfulness sparkles in his eyes and his smirk tells you he remembers quite vividly the last time you tried to lock him out of somewhere he wanted to be. Your face flushes at the memory and you see him notice, giving you a look so full of promise and desire it takes your breath away.

“I don’t know, maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?” you say with a smile, opening the car door and stepping out as you eye each other timidly. It’s only been two weeks but in some ways it feels like an eternity since you last saw him. Then suddenly he’s pulling you into his arms and crushing you in a bear hug, squeezing so tightly you’re having trouble catching a breath. Your not complaining and hug him back almost as hard, earning a satisfied grunt from him. A Tracy Chapman lyric hovers in your thoughts, “It would feel so good to be, in your arms, where all my journeys end.” That isn’t right, can’t be right…he isn’t your destiny. This isn’t where your journey ends…it’s just one part of it. He has his life…had his life, you correct yourself, and not for the first time you feel a chill settle on your shoulders as you look into the eyes of a man gone from this world for almost fifty years. But he isn’t gone…not yet. He’s here, right now, flesh and blood - alive.

“Whadya think of it, Queenie?” he asks as he takes your hand and pulls you up the front steps, the pride apparent in his voice, his face beaming. You’re too charmed for a moment to register what he said until your brain catches up.

“Queenie?” you question as you draw your eyebrows together and give him a puzzling look. He stares at you expectantly and dips his head like a little kid, almost bashful. “Queenie,” you say again slowly, trying it out, seeing how it sounds on your tongue, rolling through your head, landing somewhere near your heart. A smile spreads across your face and something fragile perches in your soul. He named you. Claimed you as his own.

“Everyone insists on calling me the King…figure I should have a Queen.” He flashes that famous lopsided grin before gathering you in his arms and nuzzling his nose into your neck at the ticklish spot just below your ear and your shoulder lifts automatically in response as he plants soft kisses there, his lips dragging across the the sensitive flesh, his tongue darting out every now and again for a taste, making you shiver. You’re still planted firmly on the front porch of Graceland for all the world to see. You manage to reluctantly pull away, suddenly terrified someone will see the two of you.

“Show me the rest of it…please?” you say, like you haven’t already been inside his house many times, like you don’t remember exactly where each room is, like all of the little factoids you’ve ever heard aren’t running circles in your head. He’s pulling you inside by the hand and as soon as the front door is shut his arms are around your waist and his lips are crashing into yours with a desperation so fierce it engulfs you like a wildfire in mere seconds. He walks you backwards towards the staircase, never breaking the kiss, his hands in your hair, on your hips, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your thighs as he inches your skirt higher and higher. Your heel hits the bottom stair and you stumble a little and giggle into his mouth, your arms instinctively circling his neck to steady yourself as Elvis gently lowers you back onto the stairs. You barely realize what’s happening as he drops to his knees before you and pushes your skirt up to your waist, tugging your baby pink cotton panties down and off with a gentle force that has you grabbing onto the wooden stair rail to keep yourself from sliding off the stairs entirely. You gasp at the unexpected exposure and immediately close your legs and sit up. “Elvis!” you whisper, your heart banging in your chest and a deep blush staining your cheeks.

“Shh, baby, relax. Let me take care of you. Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for two long weeks.” He kisses you, almost chastely, and places a hand on your shoulder, firmly but slowly pushing you back down. Your eyes come to rest on the crystal chandelier sparkling above as you inhale a shaky breath, trying to steady your pounding heart. You jump as his cool hands grasp your knees to try and pry your legs apart and you shoot up again, quick as anything. He chuckles and shakes his head. “You sure are a skittish lil thing…I told you before honey, relax. Nothin’ to be scared of, let Daddy take care of ya. Be a good little girl for me, now.”

You watch as he places a kiss on each knee, his navy eyes never leaving yours. You’re fascinated by the way his pink lips look on your ivory skin as he peppers your legs with kisses, lightly squeezing your calves and you sigh deeply, sinking back to the carpet. You open your legs a little more, granting him access to your thighs as he continues his delicate assault upwards towards your core. Lifting one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder, his other hand strokes your mound before he spreads your lips gently and lowers his head, his breath hot on your sensitive flesh. He flattens his tongue and begins to lick long, slow stripes up your wet heat. A whine leaves your lips unbidden and you arch your back up and into him. His lips close over your sensitive bud as he begins to suck, his tongue massaging at the same time. You’re breath comes out in shallow gasps, and you’re grasping at anything you can to anchor you - one hand gripping the stair rail, the other finding it’s way to Elvis’s dark locks.

Two of his long, nimble fingers slip inside you and he fucks you with them, agonizingly slow, his tongue rubbing circles around your clit. The carpet underneath begins to burn your bare backside from the friction, but it only adds pleasure to your destruction. Your hands instinctively move to your breasts, teasing your peaked nipples through your dress. He can feel you trembling, hear your high-pitched keening and when he curls his fingers up to hit that spot and hums against your skin, you finally break, clenching fiercely as his name leaves your lips over and over again in a choked breath. Your thighs clamp around his head as you ride out your high, his arm around your thigh the only thing anchoring you now. The chandelier above your head swims into view as you open your eyes, trying to catch your breath. Elvis is practically laying on you now as he looks up at you, chin resting on your stomach - your hands tangle in his hair and he beams a self-satisfied little smile at you.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it honey?” he teases, blue eyes sparkling. “I love watching ya fall apart because of me, ‘cause of the things I’m doin’ to ya.” It’s too much, the way he’s looking at you, the things he’s saying - the things he just did. You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed, but he reaches up, moving them away and making you look at him. “I like knowing I took care of my baby, ain’t nothin to be shy about.” He rubs his thumb across your lips and you see a smile tug at the side of his mouth, a private joke only he knows the punchline to.

“Elvis…that was…” you’re at a loss for words, truly. This wasn’t what you had expected your first moments in Graceland to be like. “Thank you,” you say simply, the only thing that comes to your jumbled mind. He helps you up, helps you put yourself back together, helps you smooth your dress down. A private tour of Graceland by Elvis Presley himself was not something that has ever crossed your mind. So to find yourself here now, in the Jungle Room, with him was…surreal. The two of you passed the afternoon quite happily, exploring the grounds and just catching up, talking about one thing or another. Thankfully, Elvis had arranged for the both of you to use a friend’s house while you were in town, a cozy little bungalow he had bought for a member of his Memphis Mafia and who he had promptly kicked out for the week, sending the poor fellow off to Los Angeles in exchange. Secretly, you were glad. You wouldn’t have wanted to share Elvis’s bedroom at Graceland, and being the southern gentleman he was, he wouldn’t have wanted that either.

-

Elvis appears in the mirror behind you, and you have to stop yourself from gasping at how handsome he looks, how the very sight of him sends a well of desire bubbling up from deep within and threatens to overflow and choke you. You have to have him - now. This is the most inconvenient time. He’s on his way to a dinner with the heads of Memphis society, local government officials and various charity organizations. A dinner you’re not invited to, which means you’ll be spending your first evening back with him alone. A prospect you’re not too thrilled about, but he could make it better, leave you sated and satisfied instead of desperate and wanting.

“I need you, E,” you whine, the breathlessness of your voice surprising even you.

Elvis chuckles with amusement as you watch him drift closer and closer in the mirror. “I can see that, Queenie. You’re just gonna have to wait til I get home. Can’t have me turnin up in polite society all disheveled now, can we? Despite what we get up to when we’re alone, I am a respectable man.” The way he’s looking at you begs to differ, like he could devour you whole right this minute, the hunger in his eyes matching your own. His big, warm hands find their way to your bare shoulders and slip underneath the thin straps of your vintage nightgown. His thumbs rub slow circles in the dimples of your shoulders and your breathing slows and grows shallow. One of his hands slips beneath the neck of your nightgown, over your heart and into your bra. He pinches your nipple slowly, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. Gasping, your head falls back against his stomach and you reach a hand behind you to grab his thigh. He leans down and kisses your neck, sending shivers down your spine. The ring of the telephone jolts you both out of your reverie and he reluctantly releases you, with a final pinch to your nipple, to answer it. You follow after him, wrapping your arms around him from behind, loathe to be parted from him for even a few seconds. You can feel the same needy possessiveness creeping up, the feeling you had two weeks ago that led to you being bent over his leather-clad knee, getting the hell spanked out of you. You stand up on your tippy toes so you can reach his cheek, stroking his sideburn with your finger and tickling. He playfully ducks his head to try and dislodge you, tries to walk away, but you’re stuck to him like glue, moving in tandem wherever he goes.

“The car’ll be here in ten minutes, baby,” he says, hanging up the phone. “I gotta finish getting ready, can’t be late to this thing.” He gently but firmly disentangles you from him, sitting you on the bed where you cross your arms and glare at him while he finishes combing his hair.

“Don’t gimme that look, Queenie. I- you know I can’t take care of you right now. I would if I could but I can’t.” If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man just from the stare you're giving him from your perch on the bed. “Lord, woman, you're insatiable. Didn’t I just have you on the stairs this afternoon at my own damn house?” He shakes his head, amused and aroused and…proud. Your eyes travel down his body - the man is a vision in black: high-collared black shirt open at the neck just a respectable bit, fitted black pants hugging all the right places, right down to his smooth and shiny black Chelsea boots. Those boots are…hot. You remember seeing ones just like them, on display at Graceland. And the way he wears them…fucking hot.

“I could…polish your boots for you, Daddy. Make ‘em real shiny.” Your breathless words shock even you. “Every time you look down at ‘em tonight you’ll think of me and how you’re itchin’ to get back home to me. How I’ll be here on this bed, waiting for you to come and fill me up.” You drop to your knees in front of him, running your hands up and down his legs, thighs to boots and back again. You notice his pants are a little tighter then before in the crotch and you can see the outline of his hardening cock through the material. He’s never heard you talk like this, never heard you be so bold. He clenches his fists, you see his throat working and he grits his teeth, staring at the ceiling. You think you hear him mutter, “Lord, give me strength,” before he gently pulls you up by the shoulders and leads you to the bed. He sits on the edge and crosses one leg over the other as you quickly shuck your panties and sink to your knees again, straddling his foot. The smooth, cool leather of the boot on your already soaking heat is a new sensation. You move experimentally, one hand on his knee, the other on the bed beside him. It’s smooth, the usual kind of friction is absent and in its place a slick, burning heat. The more you move, the hotter the leather becomes.

“Go on, ride my boot honey, polish it on up,” he manages a shocked laugh, surprised by the turn of events but who is he to judge? You give him a withering look and he stops laughing once he sees the concentration on your face. He flex’s his foot up and down by the ankle, changing up your rhythm, bouncing you slightly. The movement jolts you a little and your grab onto his thighs to steady yourself. It hits a different spot, the pressure building, the burning sensation a mix of pleasure and pain. You’re holding on to his thighs now, looking up at him, desperate and so very close to the edge. He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and whispers filthy sweet words and praise to you.

“That’s my good little girl, doing so good polishing Daddy’s boots. Makin’ ‘em so shiny for me. My little one who can’t even wait three hours for me, gotta have me right now, any part she can get her hands on. Goddamn, I love you, honey.” You both freeze as your breath catches in your throat and you stare at him, the blood rushing in your ears, drowning out all other sound for a moment. You’re shocked, utterly and completely. Did he just….did he just say he loves you? Before you can respond he says it again.

“I love you. I know that’s crazy,” he whispers, brow furrowed and eyes piercing yours. “I know we haven’t known each other very long at all. I can’t explain it but…I feel as if I’ve loved you for a long, long time.” You don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. He looks scared and nervous, like a little boy again. You lean up and kiss him - you can’t stop kissing him, breathing “I love you” in between each one, like a poem that only has three words. He flex’s his foot again, reminding you just how close you are to a sweet release. Slowly you drag your core up and down the slick top of his boot, your forehead pressed to his as you come, as he murmurs his love to you, over and over again.

—

While Elvis is at dinner you figure you might as well unpack a few things from your suitcase, no use in living out of it for the week if you didn’t have to. You take out another nightgown and place it in a dresser drawer in the guest room before removing a couple of dresses as well, shaking them out, trying to release some of the wrinkles that have settled in. Something white slips out from the folds and floats to the floor. You pick it up, turn it over. A receipt, from the vintage store where you acquired most of the things you brought with you. Your eyes run over the information before landing on the date of purchase - 07/07/2022. Suddenly the lights in the room start to flicker, off and on. Off and on. Your head feels heavy and as you fall you think, Is this what it feels like to die?

Your entire body is an earthquake. Something out of your control is happening, a frenetic vibrating that started in your core and is now radiating outwards. The adrenaline pumping through your veins is almost too much for your body to handle, your heart is beating out of sync and entirely too fast. Am I having a seizure, you wonder dimly, frozen where you lay, unable to move, your eyes refusing to open. If you could scream, you would, but you’re paralyzed, helpless to stop wave after wave crashing through your body. There’s a lightness in your head that’s clouding everything, scattering every thought, making it all hazy. It’s filling you up, every fiber, every cell, you’re more scared than you’ve ever been in your entire life. After what seems like an eternity, your body slowly comes down from the high and you stop shaking, eyes fluttering open, wiggling your fingers just to make sure you can move them.

You open your eyes to pale morning light and a cotton candy pink sky. The dewy warmth of the ground is already seeping into your clothes - your nightgown. How did you get outside? The last thing you remember is unpacking your clothes in the house you were staying in with Elvis. You feel…strange and weak. You lie there another couple of minutes, breathing and getting your bearings. The birds are chirping in the trees nearby and you can see some swooping and diving overhead as more light slowly fills the sky. You sit up shakily, and finally stand on unsteady feet. Like a punch to the gut, you realize that you’ve just been pulled away, unexpectedly, back to your own timeline. Away from Elvis, just when…oh god. Just when things were moving in a direction you hadn’t anticipated. He loves you. You double over in pain, almost falling to your knees again. You’ve got to get back to him, as soon as possible.

You walk through the trees, vision blurry from the tears you can’t seem to stop, unsure which direction you’re heading or where you even are but you can see fences in the distance, and horses. This looks like - are you at Graceland? How on earth did you end up here? You’re worried someone from the staff will see, worried you’ll get into trouble. You doubt they’ll take very kindly to a nightgown-clad woman wandering the private grounds in the early morning hours. You walk cautiously into the pasture where you see a lone figure standing at the fence, his back to you. Elvis. Oh…oh thank god. Thank heavens. Thank your lucky stars. You hadn’t gone anywhere, you’re still here. You feel as if you might sob uncontrollably but you hold it together as you break into a run, eager to explain, to tell him why you’d just disappeared like that, as if into thin air. He was so angry last time at the thought of you sneaking away, you’re unsure how he’ll react. The closer to him you get the more you slow your pace, catching your breath, preparing to beg, to plead, to do anything you can to make him understand you hadn’t wanted to leave him, hadn’t had a choice. Hell, maybe you’ll tell him the truth, let the chips fall where they may. What have you got to lose - it’s now or never, you won’t get another chance. Not with Elvis. Not after this. Almost there now, you’re so close, the peachy-pink early morning light envelopes his form and gives him an ethereal glow.

“Elvis.” Your voice is barely a whisper - a prayer, a plea, a vow. Your hand is reaching out for him, you can almost touch his white shirt, and he startles and turns around, spooked. You’ve scared him. You didn’t mean to. His face is pale and drawn, dark circles smudge the underneath of his eyes. The smile dies on your lips, you gasp and whip your hand back as if it’s been burned. Your mind struggles to keep up with what your eyes are seeing as they dart over his face, his body, taking in every detail, every nuance. Something isn’t right. His hair is shorter and his face…his face is full of promise and grief - so much sadness in his eyes. Tears stain his cheeks and he swipes at them hurriedly with the back of his hand, embarrassed, and gives you a wary look. You expect to see something in his face - happiness, surprise, anger…but…he doesn’t recognize you at all. That much is painfully clear. Your heart is beating too quickly, you can’t breathe. If you could only breathe a little easier. You sway a little, unsteady on your feet. His eyes are running over you, assessing you, assessing the situation. He reaches out a hand to steady you but you stumble backwards as tears sting your eyes. This isn’t your Elvis, the Elvis you left. The one standing before you is younger and beautiful, all chiseled features and swooping hair, lush full lips and smooth face. His clothes - his clothes are all wrong. Your eyes travel upwards as you take him in fully for the first time - white shoes on green grass, loose white slacks hang invitingly on his hips and a ruffled white shirt hugs his torso, short-sleeves exposing tan arms. You know this Elvis. Have seen those awful, heartbreaking photos of him and his father on the front steps of Graceland.

Just after his mother died…in 1958.

Oh. Oh no. This…this wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. Your breath leaves you altogether as you feel yourself start to spiral, darkness filling the edges of your vision. You remember the last time this happened, not so long ago, after meeting Elvis for the first time in 1968. You tilt backwards, sitting down hard just as he grabs your arms to break your fall. A wail leaves your lips as you realize you’ve lost your Elvis. If you’re here, in 1958, you don’t know if you’ll ever get back to him. Don’t know if you’ll ever get back home even. This Elvis is kneeling next to you, his mouth is moving but no words are coming out…and his eyes. Same shape, same vibrant blue color, same long eyelashes framing it all - but they’re no longer filled with love and longing and desire. Only grief and mild concern. As if of it’s own accord, your hand reaches out and gently cups his face, stroking his cheek, wanting to comfort him, knowing the pain he is in. Then the darkness engulfs you and you remember no more.

-

Tags: @meladollsims @godlypresley @jelliedonut @butlersxbirdy @precious-little-scoundrel @eliseinmemphis @powerofelvis

[riddle-me-ri]

A/N: shhh no I don't have a problem, I dunno what you're talking about..this isn't my third Miguel fic in a row hnng…but also thanks so much love on the first two! Seriously, I'm blown away! Anywho, if there's anything I'm a sucker for writing about its…like character deep dives. I like to get in their heads and kinda make my own interpretations or take to the best of my ability while staying true to what we know of the character. And while it's kind of a "x reader" it's not until the very very end. Also if you guys have any requests or ideas feel free to send them my way! It may take time but I'd love to hear any ideas! Here's a link for my request info!

Trigger Warning: none, some depressive/angsty thoughts cause it's Miguel and his backstory so...rip and also unsure if I used resentment right or not I like one word titles rip

Word Count: 1k

Miguel O'Hara x Reader - A Long Way To Happy

Miguel's eyes strained at the screen once more. 

It probably wasn't healthy watching back these tapes from a universe that once was. Over and over, and over again. 

He sees himself. A big proud grin on his face. A darling little girl propped on his shoulders, smiling, laughing, living…

Miguel doesn't even recognize that man anymore.

It is him, sure. 

Exactly where he shouldn't have been. Filling in the shoes of an alternate him that was supposed to not be there. 

Miguel O'Hara wasn't supposed to be there for his daughter's games and practices. He wasn't supposed to wake her up and cook breakfast or tuck her into bed and wish her sweet dreams. 

But he was…and now Gabriella and that entire universe was destroyed. 

All because he was careless, selfish, foolish. He let his own desires get in the way of protecting and maintaining the multiverse. 

Not again. He knows the risks now, the sacrifices that are endured whenever someone tries to go against the silk of a predetermined web. 

Miguel won't let himself get distracted, get pulled away. He doesn't care what the others think, he doesn't care if he's not as warm and bubbly as the other Spiders…he was never entirely like them anyway. 

Maybe before, but that man was long gone, only to be seen on film. 

He won't slip up again. Now that there's holes and anomalies popping to and from universes…there's no time for indulgences or distractions. 

After he swallowed the growing lump in his throat on seeing a beaming Gabriella hugging him. He turned off the video and began a routine scan for anomalies. 

Then he felt a sudden weight along his back along with some soft coos. 

When he turned his neck he was greeted by a sweet baby face with a mop full of red curly hair. The baby smiled widely at him before continuing her trail. 

Miguel sighed. 

This…this was not helping…

It just…it didn't feel fair. It wasn't fair. 

Miguel shook his head. 

It's not Peter's fault he didn't have Gabriella and Peter could be a dad to Mayday. 

Then he thought of Jessica with her mystery baby on the way…

Miguel wasn't sure how he'd feel if she had a girl. 

This has to be his punishment. 

He obliterated an alternate universe by filling in for that universe's Miguel O'Hara because he wanted a family…because he wanted what that Miguel had. 

He deserves this. To be surrounded by happy families and precious babies. 

At least the multiverse was stable and safe enough to where they felt comfortable starting families.  

Miguel doesn't want to feel this resentment. He knows it's childish, so he buries it deep along with his traumatic memories of his daughter glitching out of existence. 

He distracts himself by staying focused. Pushing, pulling, and commanding the Spider Society. Maintain order in the multiverse, that's what he should have been doing to begin with. 

Perhaps then he can be redeemed…for his own sake. 

Until then, he had no reason to be playful and carefree like the others. He had no reason to pursue his wants, not after what happened the last time he did so. 

Then there was you. 

Bright-eyed and bushy tailed as all the other Spiders (well most of them). You were personable, kind, and sweet. Peter said you also had a sense of humor, leaving Miguel to still be the only Spider without one. 

Miguel didn't think much of you at first. Just another part timer perhaps. May catch a glimpse of you every once in a while. 

That is until you almost went out of your way to see him or do things for him. You always checked on him once if not twice a week. (He almost wishes you'd visit more so than Peter B.) And every now and then he'd notice a tray of food for him.  

He did take notice of your prowess on missions. He always appreciated a competent agent. This led him to have you on his backup team with Jessica. 

Needless to say, he did feel…content with you. Which was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Oh, geez, there you are, Mayday! Your daddy's looking everywhere for you." Your voice echoed throughout Miguel's headquarters as you swung up on your silk to retrieve the baby. 

"God, sorry Miguel, I turned my back for a minute and she's gone. Should've figured she wanted to see her favorite uncle." You chuckled as you pried the baby off Miguel's shoulders. 

"I doubt that." He sighed. 

"What?" 

"Nothing." 

You nodded. 

You noticed a familiar tab open on the hologram beside the tab he had open with a map of the multiverse. You recognized the name and date. 

You sighed as you began turning around ready to hand Mayday back to her dad who was sparring in the training room. 

Until you looked over your shoulder at Miguel slumped over his desk. His eyes heavy with exhaustion and his lips down in a depressed frown. 

"You know, you don't have to take this burden on your own. You have us…and the whole society…and everyone's happy…content for the most part. Outside of canon stuff anyway but…" You took a deep breath, trying to control your rambling to a minimum. 

"Look, I just…want you to know…you deserve happiness too." You concluded. 

As if to agree, Mayday squealed and kicked her feet in your arms.

Miguel didn't respond. He straightened his posture so he wasn't leaning and he glanced at you over his shoulder. He solemnly nodded and nothing else. 

Finally deciding there was nothing more to say, you began shooting your webs and swinging out of his headquarters. The quiet room is filled with echoes of Mayday's laughs and chortles. 

When Mayday's noises faded. Miguel brought the video back up. 

He paused when the video reached the end. 

A close-up of him. A ghost of him.

Was it possible? Could he be happy again? Should he be? Did he really deserve to be?

Where resentment slightly gnawed in his gut. The idea of becoming content made it fade away. Actually, indulging in other relationships while also protecting the multiverse. Not trying to control something that even he and Lyla have minimal understanding of and controlling a plethora of other individuals. 

Miguel can't change what's happened, that is for certain. He can control what he does today and the next though. 

It's going to be a long way to happiness. Yet, he couldn't help but think with someone like you around…it may make the journey a little easier.

[the-cooler-vigilante]

incoherent ramblings about spider-verse, so you know, spoilers.

GOD Miguel is so fucking amazing in this movie, like, he slots so well into an antagonist role it's fucking scary.

Despite that, I really want to make the point that Miguel is NOT a villain. He's an antagonist, one who's worldview clashes with Miles.

Like the reason Miguel is so fucked up is because he feels guilty over what happened with the other universe he tried to live in. Which is really fucking interesting because that's exactly what Kingpin wanted. But the consequences of trying to do that literally destroyed that universe, and Miguel has been trying to live with that ever since.

The whole Spider-Society thing? Yeah, they're trying to stop the collapse of the multiverse, but they're also Miguel's way out of his guilt(idk if that makes sense).

But what stands out to me the most with the whole thing is that when Miguel is fucking ripping into Miles, who's really just been a fucking bystander to this shit, he's projecting onto him.

All that shit he said about Miles being the original anomaly? That he should have never become Spider-Man? Yeah, that's him self projecting his trauma and issues. In the comics, his fucking boss got him hooked on a drug called rapture, and when he tried to cure himself, he was sabotaged and got spider powers that really fucking messed up his life. Like he had to really adjust and learn how to control his talons so that he wouldn't hurt anyone/hide them when needed, and I don't even know how hard it was to deal with super vision.

Then there's the multiverse collapsing thing. We KNOW he was monitoring that shit, that after credits scene of Into the Spider-Verse was him probably trying to clean up whatever holes the super-collider ripped in the multiverse. But then he sees a different universe. One where he has a loving wife and child, and he WANTS that, I'm pretty sure he's ALWAYS wanted something like that. So he slots himself in, and by doing that, ends up destroying that universe and potentially dooming the Spider-Verse as a whole. That whole Canon thing? It's partially him trying to justify that shit to himself.

I really don't know where else to go with this so feel free to like, debate with me on this. Also Miles so fucking based for not accepting that and literally fighting every fucking dude in the building to save his dad.

[bside-cassette]

This is both a love letter and a retelling of @fakecrfan 's Constructor/Architect story, but set in my own superhero universe. She has a specific identity in this, as unfortunately, you can't really have the reader *be* the main character in a visual format, but I hope that's okay with you :)

-----------------------------------

My name is Na Su-Yung. Two years ago, I thought I was a normal person. Another mortal. Another drop in the ocean, looking up to the clouds. To the gods living amongst us. Until I found out that I'm nothing like the ocean around me. I was different. I was an Anomaly.

I was just a college kid in Cosmopolis, another normal human who was awestruck every time I saw The Guardsman zoom across the city, or see a news report of Nitrous' crime-fighting shenanigans in Sunset City, all the way on the other side of the U.S. Another fragile human being, merely made of flesh and bone and nothing else, that cheered each time The Vanguard came together to save the world.

When an attack on Cosmopolis by the villain Sergeant Steel destroyed the foundations of my apartment and others in my neighborhood, I thought I was gonna lose everything. That I was gonna die. I just accepted my fate as the floor began crumbling beneath me. To my surprise, however, it seemed that the entire building was frozen in time. I stopped it from falling. I gave other residents enough time to escape to a safer area. I was a hero, even if no one, not even I, knew what I had done.

I spent time exploring my abilities in my free time between lectures. I don't know why, but it took me months, nearly a year, to be able to control the same amount as I did when I first gained my powers. So I started small. I floated pebbles between my hands, then on a single hand, then I was able to attract them to my hands from a few meters away. For the first time in my 21 years of life, I didn't feel weak, or pathetic, or forgotten. For the first time, I felt like I could be more than myself. And so I did.

I'd go to places in Cosmopolis where Guardsman had recently done battle against one of his rogues. I'd studied architectural engineering thoroughly before going on my first outing, so I was able to reconstruct a lot of the buildings in a few weeks. Just the broad strokes, though. I couldn't get the electrical or water systems down, so I just left a lot of the buildings with hollow walls to let the actual electricians and plumbers do their work.

Still, no one gave a shit about me. I was just some rando in a washed-out CSU hoodie and sweatpants.

I eventually realized that I would probably be able to work better if I had the blueprints for the buildings. Just walking up to wherever they keep them and asking for them probably wouldn't work well, so I planned. Well, "planned" is glorifying it. I did the first thing that popped in my head: make a costume to get attention. And so I did.

I was never the artsy type, so I just bought a wetsuit and mask online. But it worked. After the metas had their fill of fighting, I'd arrive on the scene and start working. The bigger news reporters would keep their focus on Guardsman or Harddrive or whoever did the day-saving, but the smaller news organizations turned their focus to me. Knowledge of my presence was slowly increased, especially online. People on Reddit and Tumblr took to calling me either The Constructor or The Architect. I took up the latter.

One day, when even the larger news networks in Cosmopolis had turned their attention onto me, someone came up to me. She told me her name was Sandy and that she had a proposition. She'd be my manager, managing any relations or exchanges I don't have the time to deal with, and helping me with marketability. I took her up on her offer. She made me a new suit, talked to the city to get blueprints, and whatever else. It's been a while, I've forgotten a lot of what we did.

Hero teams contracted me to restore their headquarters, standalone heroes and vigilantes needed help with rebuilding their bases, cities wanted cheap labor. I did it all. I finally felt like I was contributing to society. That I mattered. I was finally told that I mattered. Until the day I chose to do what I knew was right.

Cosmopolis, despite what outsiders think it is, is just like any other city. One side of the city is covered in skyscrapers, the other in slums. Struggling people who can't escape their situations, whether that be out of discrimination, mental disabilities, mental illnesses, addiction, criminal affiliation, they all live with constant strife.

The worst part of it all, however, is that I'm just like everyone else. Every time I passed one on the street or from inside a cab, I looked away. Seeing them suffer under the city's hand tore out my soul. It didn't matter that my reasoning was different from those who averted their eyes out of spite or disgust, I still looked the other direction. I refused to be like them. To kick them while they're already down. So I started building them up, literally.

I'd scour throughout the city, look through sites listing run-down neighborhoods or buildings, and I'd go there. I'd tear them down and build them back up. I gave people places to stay, where they wouldn't go cold or without a bed for the night. I gave them the kindness that might help them stop simply surviving, and finally begin living.

Then the comments came. Middle and upper class began shouting their complaints online and in my face, whether personally or through a reporter. They hated seeing people, who they deemed "undesirable," getting any help. Giving some cash was already too much for them to handle, so I can see why they saw this in such a bad light. Why their hateful eyes had seen this as a sin.

I went to interviews and I kept trying to get my viewpoint out there. No one listened. No one cared. All they saw was filth getting help by more filth.

So I made shelters around the city in places no one would notice. Rooves out of land in the parks, more empathetic architecture. I removed the spikes underneath bridges that prevent people from getting shelter from the rain and made the benches softer for those who had no beds. But still, no one gave a shit. The city made laws against how much anyone could alter it. I gave up on that.

I was sent death threats. I was told that I was helping the scum grow. That I was making Cosmopolis shine less. It didn't help that Guardsman was comatose from a battle for nearly 6 months at that point. It meant I had no one, not even the hero of heroes, the embodiment of infinite kindness to everyone, to back me up. I was alone. I stopped everything. I pushed away everyone. I fired Sandy, apologizing every second of it. I basically disappeared from the face of the Earth.

Then I heard that they were building a stadium on the Southeast Side. Displacing hundreds of people. Their hope being snuffed out by the fat cats on the top of the totem pole. I wouldn't stand by it. I came as fast as I could and I tore it all down. Every beam and panel and every square inch was just rubble when I was finished.

M.I.R.A. was contacted after the cops weren't able to get me to stand down. They trapped me in an Akonite cell in Pandora's Box. The media labeled me as "a false hero," "a fallen angel," "a wolf in sheep's clothing," "a villain." I just wanted to make things better. With The Vanguard keeping their eyes on the larger threats, and each individual member focusing on the broad strokes that are their respective cities, there were barely any who were looking out for the little guy. That's all I wanted to be. The one to look out for the everyman, the people on the streets. My people. I wanted to take care of my neighbors, friends, and loved ones. But I guess all people care about are themselves.

I eventually found that Akonite didn't work on my powers. How or why, I don't know. Maybe it was because it was just another mineral. Maybe it just didn't have an effect on me. Either way, I knew that this wouldn't stop me. I'm The Architect. I'm a hero. I won't let corruption, greed, and cruelty hinder that. I'll dissent from the indifference. From the apathy. From the fear of helping my city.

[kalcifers-blog]

TMA *EGOS*

PLEASE EXPLAIN MORE

Okay I'm assuming that you're asking me to give what TMA Avatar each of the Egos would be which I'll go into detail here!!! With!!!! Some bonus Picrews!! If you have any further questions don't be afraid to reach out in the ask box xxx

Before I begin I do want to mention that these are just my own thoughts!!! I would absolutely love to hear what everyone thinks/if you have alternative ideas to suggest as well :DDD

(For starters I think all of the Egos have elements of The Lonely to them- they all feel isolated in their lives for whatever reason)

Chase Brody (The Eye) - I think Chase is so unbelievably Eye coded and he's VERY Archivist coded in my brain, giving off Season 4 Jonathan Sims if you get me. The Beholding is all about paranoia, feeling like your being watched and this insatiable need to know more- which Chase pretty much checks every box in my brain (especially after Anomaly Found). Chase does have elements of The Corruption and The Buried which I think would mostly just because of The Eyes effects of his life.

Marvin The Magnificent (The Desolation) - to me I've always gotten the impression that Marvin's magic reflects his mental wellbeing and he didn't gain it naturally- a younger Marvin to me has always read as a Carrie White or a Sydney Novak type character- someone with such intensely strong powers that its only a matter of time before he destroys something- i think the thing it destroys the most is Marvin himself though, its harmed everything around him and has probably left him isolated and alone. The Desolation isn't just fire it's the destruction of everything it doesn't care for death it just drives to squeeze the pain out of you. Which for me is exactly how I've always imagined Marvin, the fact that he doesn't want to hurt others would only feed into it more.

JackieBoy Man (The Vast) - Now with Jackie he's always seemed to be the hardest character to pinpoint for me personally. But at the end I thought The Vast was the only appropriate entity for him, he's an odd mix of Crew and Fairchild where he's constantly chasing down the thrill of open air, of falling into nothingness. He also to me seems like he'd be the one Ego who'd be the most aware of how insignificant their lives are in the grand scheme of the entirety of the universe (plus as a bonus his comic is the only one this far to reference the grand universe and the sheer scale of everything.

Jameson Jackson (The Web) - JJ is so interesting to me because to me he's both puppet and puppet master. He's a people pleaser and I would go as far to say that he takes it the point no one ever truly knows who he really is, like Martin Blackwood, he's all smiles and kind gestures but he treats everyone the same, it's only when you take a step back do you realise just how surface level his gestures are. I don't think he's a bad person however, I just think he pretends to care a lot more than he actually does. He's manipulated but he knows it, hes the quickest to spot the signs of manipulation because he's seen it and he's played with the same strings- that doesn't make him immune to manipulation and I think part of him is aware of just how caught up he is in the web himself.

Henrik Von Schneeplestien (The End/The Spiral) - Henrik was almost impossible for me to settle on because there's quite a few he could fall into (I could even make an argument he'd also belong in The Eye or Corruption) but I think his true calling is The End. I see him carry death unknowingly to the people around him, he spends so much time saving lives to counter act it somehow, he can't save everyone but if he can help people just as much as he accidentally kills others then maybe he can live with himself- it obviously takes a hold of him and he's eventually unable to keep operating in this way which is where The Spiral comes in, I think the constant death surrounding him will eventually break him and unknown to him and everyone around him- the signs for this were all clear as day.

Antisepticeye (The Stranger) - Anti is not human, anti has never been human and him trying to convince you that he is one is nothing short of uncanny. He's not had the life experiences to know how humans are supposed to move, his body consists of that which is important for a human to survive but none of it works right. He kills people and robs their lives and their faces and mocks you with them. He sends people into paranoia because they know that something is wrong but they just can't tell what. He is a mask of humanity worn by a thing that doesn't know how to be human.

BONUS: Robbie The Zombie (The Corruption) - Robbie was the easiest BC yk, zombie. But I would like to think that he didn't die and come back. His zombification was slow and it started when he was alive, watching and feeling his body begin the decomposition process while he was still very much alive and aware and feeling. It slowly but surely robbed him of not just his life but his identity and he slowly started to lose himself within the rot of The Corruption as he progressed.

PICREW LINK