Chapter Eight: Don't Save Her (she don't wanna be saved)
<<<<previous chapter ||
this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
˚₊𓆩༺🕷🐈⬛༻𓆪₊˚
“Every confirmed spider. All of our lives, woven together, in a beautiful web of life and destiny.”
Glowing before the group was a radiant, colourful web, each convergence of lines projecting a different moving image. Different might’ve been the wrong word to describe it, though, as the displays conveyed the same thing. Different colours, yes. Languages? Genders? Backgrounds? All dissimilar. But upon closer inspection, you noticed that every action, emotion, and word uttered remained the same.
“And these nodes,” Miles spoke up. “–where the lines converge?”
Making a sweeping gesture with his arms, Miguel highlighted the ‘nodes’ that appeared before you. “They… are the Canon.”
Luminous threads burst from the web, each string remaining linked to another. The projections surrounded all sides of you, enveloping the group in the array of scenarios that flashed within the map. Before you, a thin-legged blue spider sank its fangs into a pale female hand.
The spider-heroes circling you seemed to flinch in unison as the web flashed scenes of vibrant venom pumping through skin. First Gwen, then Peter, a flash of Hobie, Miles, and tens of wincing, bitten faces from heroes you failed to recognize.
“Chapters that are a part of every Spider's story,” Miguel continued. “Every time.”
“Some good,”
To your left, a glimmering node reveals a young redheaded girl kissing an upside-down Spider-Man, webbed hands tethered to a nonexistent ceiling. In the corner of your eye, Peter hugs Mayday closer.
“Some bad…some very bad.”
Another glimmer. Appearing above you is a sobbing Gwen, encased in rubble and embracing a heavily wounded boy. Pulling your gaze away from the web, your eyes catch Gwen’s for half a second. Misty, but expression solemnly neutral. You felt your brows knit inwards, yet before any words of consolation could be uttered, numerous painful scenes flashed around you.
A fuller-figured spider-woman wept into the neck of an elderly man, he too, unmoving. A Spider-Man sporting a yellow suit shed tears above the body of an older woman. A Peter Parker, your Peter Parker, flashed in a node right before you. Your stomach dropping to your feet, you froze as you watched him repeatedly shake the shoulders of a still ‘Uncle Ben’, a name you gathered from the sobs wracking his holographic chest. Your eyes, however, remained trained on the face of the late Peter Parker.
Something began to stir in your gut watching his face twisted in agony, similar to how you found yourself that fateful day only a few months ago. Those budding feelings, however, quickly became swallowed by rage. The wound is still fresh. Never forget what he did.
Apparently, your reactions to the node weren’t completely internal, as you felt the gloved hand of Miles envelop one of your trembling own. He squeezed, eyes trained on a different scene playing before him, of a poorly costumed, younger version of Miles holding a pained man in a metallic, purple suit. Besides you, Miles mumbled under his breath.
“Uncle Aaron…”
Miguel spoke, the gruesome scenes dissipating as he continued his lecture.
“That’s how the story is supposed to go. Canon events are the connections that bind our lives together.”
“But what does that have to do with me?” You piped up. Miguel’s eyes narrowed as you spoke. “I mean, all these events have to do with the lives of ‘each and every spider’, like you said.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t understand the big deal you made about me being involved–”
“Event ASM-195,” Miguel interrupted, the glowing web reappearing before you. To your left, a node began to form– the bloodied face of your father materializing within. Your eyes widened, and your mind immediately blanked.
Miguel continued. “A Black Cat burglar is killed during combat with Spider-Man…”
The node, now fully formed, projected a holographic version of the scene plaguing your dreams since the night it happened. You stepped back suddenly, as if the image itself had knocked you off balance. Your hands flew to cover your mouth, a short and muffled scream escaping between the gaps of your fingers. Your father, bloodied and mangled, lay dead on the cold, tiled floor of a museum’s art exhibit. His face, unmasked and beaten into semi-recognizability, was partly shadowed by a huffing figure standing above him.
Suited hands stained red and dripping digital blood was the Spider-Man you first knew. The man who taught you how to hate. He, too, looked to be significantly injured during the squabble, his red-and blue getup ripped, exposing bruised skin of his own. You opened your mouth to speak, but immediately closed it, the burning sensation of rising bile ceasing any words you wished to spit at Miguel. You shook in silence, suppressing a gag.
The node shifted as Miguel spoke once again. “His death inevitably inspiring his child to take on the Black Cat name for themselves.”
Now projected before you was your own holographic form, posed swinging in midair, satchel filled to the brim and spilling with bills, pearled strings, and gemstones.
What you hadn’t yet noticed, was that it wasn’t just a node of you projected before the group, but an ever-expanding line of Black Cat holograms. You tore your eyes away from your own and swept them across the room, taking in each face. All posed the same, satchel stuffed and grappling hook in hand, stilled, forming the most existential statue exhibit you’ve ever seen. One face in particular you recognized as Felicia from earlier, your mind now flickering to the warning she shared with you.
“…I do know that you need to be careful, please. Knowing you, er- us, getting tangled in situations as big as this never ends well…”
The line of digital Black Cats began to shift, now dramatically posed in a defensive position, their respective holographic Spider-people forming alongside them. All of them held stances filled with animosity, as if frozen in time in the middle of a heated battle. All, except for yours.
“The new Black Cat is destined to become Spider's enemy–” Miguel continued lowly as the webs nodes dissipated once again, shrouding you all in darkness.
“Eventually joining the Sinister Six… and during one heist you’ll–”
Peter loudly cleared his throat, sending a quick, sharp glance in Miguel's direction. This wasn’t lost on you before it was averted, neither was the tick in his jaw, nor the way his eyes flitted in your direction guiltily.
During one heist, I’ll… what? Your eyes met Miles’, your shared gaze immediately solidifying that he was thinking the same thing at Miguel’s words. The thought of ever meeting the same fate as your father nearly made you hurl.
But that can’t be what he’s implying–right?
Miguel, mirroring Peter, sent you a look after returning his, opting to finish up his thoughts.
“All that being said, The Society has been keeping an eye on the both of you. The relationship between you two is imperative to the canon, and the fact that you two are standing here, of all places, will cause an enormous impact on your reality.”
His narrowed eyes zoned in on your now watery own. At his next words, you felt a chill run its way down your spine.
“The Cat and The Spider. The thief and the hero. That must not change. No matter how much you want it to.”
“How do you know?” Miles' voice sliced through the air, voice rasped and wavering, he too, greatly taken aback by Miguel’s words.
“Because I broke it once myself.” Miguel’s shadowed eyes now shifted to Miles. “I thought it was harmless…But I was wrong. Connections can be broken– which makes anomalies so so dangerous.”
The web illuminated once more, webs now flashing images of the harrowing scene you recently survived in Mumbattan. The screaming civilians, the nearly-toppled citybus, but most importantly highlighted, was Miles saving what looked to be a police officer from falling rubble.
“Inspector Singh’s death was a canon event. You weren’t supposed to be there, and you weren’t supposed to save him. Since you decided to change the story, Pavitr’s dimension is falling apart.”
“You break enough canon, save enough captains, we would lose everything.”
The web disappeared for a final time, and you soon found yourself grateful for the darkness, the tears welling in your eyes finally rolling their way down your cheeks. Beside you, Miles’ breath began to quicken, his gaze sharpened but not directed to anyone in particular, his mind clearly elsewhere.
“My dad is about to be captain…Spot does it. He kills him.”
Miles' gaze now darted between yours and Miguel’s, confusion, anger, and fear swimming within, barely bubbling under the surface. “When does it happen.”
Peter, once again, turned to Miguel before averting his gaze to the ground. Jessica, Gwen, and Miguel all kept their gazes solemn, yet avoidant of Miles’.
“When does it happen?!” Miles repeated, louder this time. “In two days”, Miguel finally spoke, “When he’s sworn in–”
“Send us home.” Miles interrupted, fists balling as he stepped closer to you. You could almost feel the rage emanating from him, an intense heat building at your side where he stood.
It was now Miguel’s turn to step forward, his eyebrows knitting inwards. “I can’t do that. Not now.”
“What is he supposed to do then?” You spoke up, “Just let him die?” You turned to Gwen, whose lips were pursed into a tight, thin line. “What about your dad, Gwen, he’s a captain, right?”
“...Yeah.” Gwen squeaked, voice weak, unwavering, and eyes riddled with guilt.
“So we’re just supposed to let people die because some algorithm says that that’s supposed to happen? You realize how messed up that sounds, right?” Miles spat, a scowl plastered to his face. Miguel took yet another step towards the two of you, encouraging Miles to compromise.
“You have a choice between saving one person and saving an entire world. Every world.”
“I can do both. Spider-Man always–”
“Miles, we all want to live the life we wish we had. Believe me, I have tried. And the harder I tried, the more damage I did. You can’t have it all, kid.”
All of a sudden, the room felt full. Spider-heroes you didn’t recognize began to surround you.
“What is this?” Miles quickly took a defensive stance. “Is this an intervention or something?”
“Looks that way.” You replied, hand itching to reach for your whip.
“You were right, Gwen. You should have never come to see me.” Miles growled lowly. Gwen failed to meet his eyes this time.
“You can’t ask me not to save my father!” Miles’ hands began to grow warm, a barely-there light starting to emanate from his palms.
“I’m not asking.” Miguel replies, his inward-knit brows now drawing downwards, a distant yet disapproving look flashing towards the two of you.
“I mean, you basically implied that Cat dies during a heist, and you expect us to just take that?”
So that’s what Miguel was trying to say. That’s what Felicia was warning you about. That’s why Hobie told you that you weren’t ready.
And they were all right.
You sure as hell weren’t ready. You should’ve never uttered those words, speaking your reality into existence, sealing your fate as a thief, and only a thief, who will die with that title. You were destined, according to this stupid society, and this stupid canon, to meet the same end as your father. A bad apple finally plucked from the bunch, an annoying, buzzing fly finally squashed, another viral headline flashed across the nation's television screens. You shuddered at the thought of your apartment being confiscated, just as they did your dads. Everyone you helped, who depended on you, left with nothing.
Would they feel betrayed? Would they hate me, too? Spit on my grave when it's revealed who was behind the mask the whole time?
Your plight was quickly cut short by a familiar-looking cage materializing, trapping both you and Miles in a small, holographic prison. You wailed, the powerful energy of the containment cage clearly designed to weaken a super-powered villain. The little fighting urge left within you had been lost. Emotionally, and now physically, you were drained. Miles slumped alongside you, hissing against the cell's energy field.
In your weakened state, you could hear Gwen’s strained voice, calling out to Miguel. “Miguel, stop it–” “If we let them leave, only more damage will be done. We both know that.”
Within the cage, you felt the temperature begin to rise. Miles began to breathe harder, eyes focused on Hobie’s lanky figure across the room. With all the arguing Spiders’ voices closing in on you both, you found yourself focusing in on Miles amidst all the chaos.
Warmer…
Miguel pushed through the sea of Spider-heroes, coldly dismissing the objections from Peter and Gwen. He spoke down, chin jutted, glaring down his nose between you and Miles. “Just need to hold you a few days.”
Getting warmer…
“Sorry it had to end like this, kid.”
Sweat pooled between the inside of your suit and your skin as the temperature inside your digital dungeon has now risen exponentially. Its source, now extremely apparent. Miles pressed his glowing palms against the energy field, forehead scrunched in a focused state. His frustration has now peaked, his anger finally boiling over.
“I told you not tO CALL ME THAT!”
The heat peaked. The forcefield suddenly blasted open, pushing back the surrounding Spider-heroes, Miguel included, by a few meters. You and Miles, however, still remain in the center. Hobie's eyes catch yours now, a low chuckle exiting his lips. A stark contrast to the pissed-off-yed-dazed expressions everyone else in the room sported. Luminous energy visibly crackles in the air, the bulk of it gathered near or on Miles’ hands, which he now stares at. A beat passes, and your eyes glance towards the now-cleared exit of Miguel's office. Your body moved before your mind did, hand darting out to pull at Miles’ wrist. The draining energy of the cage now gone, you mustered the strength to begin your dart out of this hellhole. Miles followed suit, his wrist still trapped within your gloved fingers.
🕸️ You are Y/N Hardy, also known as the Black Cat... But noone knew that. Unsolved, undetected, unstoppable. Notorious for stealing multitudes of notable, expensive works, all without leaving a hint pointing to who's behind the mask.
Being the Black Cat was an easy side-gig...until Spider-man showed up.
this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
˚₊𓆩༺🕷🐈⬛༻𓆪₊˚
Behind you, a series of metallic tinkering sounded out;
Clink-Crack!
Followed by a brief snap echoing down the hall you walked through.
Behind you, Hobie threw out a taunt;
“Bet this doesn’t even do anything.”
Followed by a retort Miles hissed out, echoing down the hall you walked through.
“Maybe it did, before you ripped it out of a wall.”
Besides you, Gwen rolled her eyes. Slowing your pace, you threw a look over your shoulder towards the bickering duo. Meeting your gaze was Hobie, who continued his incessant picking at anything shiny he could find. At your core, you itched to do the same. But after Felicia’s cryptic message, you’d figured you should tread carefully. Hobie quickened his pace, now sauntering beside you. “You if anyone should get it, eh?”
Raising an eyebrow, you replied. “I don’t know what you mean?” “All this?” He gestured out vaguely. “Total propaganda, distractin’ you from the truth.”
Clink-Crack!
The tinkering of metal, followed by a snap. You paused to catch a small, shiny disk Hobie flicked in your direction. You caught it, feeling its weight in your palms. Inspecting it closer, you recognized it as one of the many pins you eyed on Hobies’ vest earlier. It was silver. Thick, and plated with a pearl-esque shine. Almost instinctively, you found yourself stuffing it into one of your suit’s many pockets.
Hobie snickered at your actions, continuing his saunter down the hall. “You remind me of The Cat from my place, y’know.”
It was now your turn to laugh, continuing your walk beside him. “I’m still not used to the idea that there are more of…me out there.”
“He’s not as lost as you are, though.”
“…Sorry?”
“Don’t think you even know who you are. Do you even know what you’re doing out here?”
“Of course, I know who I am,” The Cat and The Spider, thief and hero. It can’t change. It won’t change. You found yourself mentally repeating this mantra once again.
“ -and it’s not like I wanted to get sucked down here like the rest of you.“
“Bet your setup is nice, big house and all? The Black Cats I know‘ve got huge–“
“Not really.” You interrupted, a frown beginning to tug down your lips as you remembered the cats you left at home. God, I miss them.
“It’s a bloody shame then,”
“Why?”
“Don’t think you’re ready for any of this.”
Frustration now creeping up your spine, you huffed. “You’re not making any sense.” You quickened your pace, opting to walk ahead of Hobie. Hobie matched your stride, continuing his nonsensical rant.
“Listen to me, bruv. Thought the whole point of bein’ Black Cat was your independence— bein’ your own boss, you don’t need any of this!”
“Then why are you here?” Miles piped in. “Looking out for my drummer is all.” Hobie quipped back.
“I know I don’t need any of this, you don’t have to remind me of my role.” You hissed, defensiveness bubbling in your gut. “Have you forgotten I never meant to come out here?” You gestured vaguely at the air.
“Guys!” Gwen interrupted, sensing the growing tension in the air. “Come on.”
“Alright, squashed.” Hobie raised his hands in mock defeat. In your ear, he murmured, “Just don’t enlist ‘till you know what war you’re fighting.”
‘I won’t,’ you wanted to murmur back, but all that left your lips was a sharp sigh followed by an unconvincing nod back.
A heavy pit settled in your stomach.
————————————
After what felt like forever, you finally made it. Your body thrummed with a dangerous concoction of nerves, adrenaline, and fear. The four of you had reached the entrance of Miguel O’hara’s office? Workspace? The design of HQ never failed to confuse you.
Gwen and Miles threw each other a look before continuing into the room. Hobie opted to hang back near the entrance and you’d chosen to join him. Apparently, the panic that ran through your veins was not at all internal, as you began to feel your steps slow to a halt, your feet now glued to the ground. Above the group, a buff masculine figure loomed ontop of a suspended platform. Somehow, Miles managed to look upon the figure with a smile on his face and a skip in his step.
You found your gaze fixed and unwavering on the back of the man who stood before you. Felicia’s warnings bounced off the walls of your skull. ‘They’re not gonna like you in here.’ ‘They’ll make you ‘Go Home’ as soon as he finds out who you are.’
Beside you, Hobbies eyes lingered on your form. You shot him a glance, brows furrowing in the direction of his fidgeting hands. Once again, metallic tinkering reached your ears. His painted fingers worked on…something. Before you bothered to ask, Gwen's voice rang out.
“Miguel O’Hara, meet Miles Morales,”
“Hey!¿Qué tal, tío?...I speak Spanish…Te trajé una empanada-”
The looming muscular frame perched above finally pivoted to face towards you. You found yourself with no opportunity to sneak a glance at his face, as Miguel’s eyes were narrowed, and locked on yours. To your left, Hobie’s eyes flicked between the two of you.
“Que maravilla.”
He looked tired. Tired and angry. Despite the dark gaze Miguel shot in your direction, you found yourself somewhat paralyzed, unable to look away. His hair was brown and brushed back. And if you squinted just right, you could swear there was a small grey streak. Under his eyes rested heavy creases. His eyelids drooped, framed under eyebrows which seemed to be permanently creased in the middle of his forehead. Frown lines encompassed downturned lips, which only accentuated further as he spoke.
You couldn’t tell what it was, but something was off. Was it the way his suit seemed to mimic the artificial gleam of a hologram? Maybe it was the way each fingertip on his suit ended in a razor-sharp point, or how his broad and athletic frame didn’t quite match up with his hallowed-out, thin face shape. Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to glow…
Next thing you know, a trash can was flying in your direction. Thanks to his sense, Miles had managed to evade it in time, letting it zip past him - headed straight for your face. Before you could even think about flinching, Hobie swiped the garbage can, as well as the discarded empanada within it, before any impact could be made. In your daze, you hadn’t recognized that Miguel had diverted his gaze away from yours to frustratedly banter with the duo in front of you.
“He’s worried about Spot- I’ll worry about Spot!”
“What did I do?”
“Miguel! It’s not his fault-” “Fault? Hold up-”
“YOU BLEW ANOTHER HOLE IN THE MULTIVERSE!”
“He doesn’t know any better!”
“But you did, Gwen. And you –”
Miguel’s attention once again was redirected towards you. Now impossibly more pissed off than before, his shoulders squared as he pointed his gaze in your direction. You watched Miguel take two steps closer to the edge of the platform. Hobbies eyes burn holes into the side of your face.
“– how did you even get here?”
Your head whipped around frantically, as if who Miguel was speaking to somehow was anyone else in the room but you. Poking a finger into your own chest, you finally spoke.
“I– me? I just followed Miles…”
Miles interjected, a suited hand flying to his chest.
“Now that was my fault. I led Cat with me after we watched Gwen go–”
“We both know that isn’t true, Miles,” you stepped further into the room, now meeting the pair where they stood under Mighel’s perch. “I followed you because I wanted to. This isn’t your fault, I mean, if anything it’s mine–”
“It’s both of your faults.” Miguel grumbled, interrupting the accountability competition you and Miles had started. Raising his voice, Miguel continued.
“It’s bad enough that you’re messing around in other realities doing whatever you think is helping the Spot situation–”
“Can someone explain what was so wrong with what I did?” Miles asked a nonexistent crowd, exasperatedly.
“–do any of you understand the implications for the canon–”
You had no idea what anyone was talking about, and it was clear Miles didn’t either. Your confusion and fear began to slowly morph inside you, transforming into frustration, bubbling deep in your core. Leaning towards Gwen, you whispered.
“Gwen, what’s going on–”
Gwen’s chin dipped, her eyes avoiding yours. “I’m sorry, I don’t–”
Scoffing, you interrupted her. “I know you know what he’s talking about–”
“–HAVING A BLACK CAT INVOLVED IN THS?”
Miguel’s voice boomed, bouncing off the walls of his office. Miles and Gwen flinched alongside you, all three of you now tensed to oblivion. Miguel heaved in front of you, shoulders squared and forehead crinkled in a way that to you, looked as if he was (barely) holding himself back from blowing up.
You could swear, his eyes were glowing.
Voice lowered slightly, Miguel continued.
“This isn’t a part of your storyline. An interruption of this scale would destroy your reality if not hundreds…”
This wasn’t making any sense. Storyline? Canon? A corner of your brain became convinced that this Miguel guy was a drunkard. But the way Gwen squirmed in place made you hesitant to dismiss the gravity of Miguel’s nonsensical rant.
Before anyone could ask any more questions, a teasing voice rang out somewhere in the office.
“Miguel! Go easy on the kid…”
Familiar. This voice is familiar to you.
“...he had a terrible teacher. He had no chance.”
Your body buzzed with adrenaline, limbs ready to fight or flee at any moment.
Why am I reacting like this?
A figure swung into your peripheral, and immediately bile began to rise in your throat. Your mind flashed back to that day- the headlines forever burned into the front of your mind…
THIS JUST IN: CAT BURGLAR WALTER HARDY PRESUMED DEAD AT SCENE AFTER HEIST-BUST BY SPIDERMAN
Spiderman. Peter.
“Peter!” Miles chirped beside you, rushing over to envelop him in a hug.
You stumbled back, shaking silently. You felt a tightness in your chest, your breaths growing heavy. To yourself, you mumbled.
“That fucker’s supposed to be dead.”
As you looked at the now bantering trio, you felt a warmth press itself into your shoulder. Hobie, now beside you, hunched over to mumble back.
“Told’ya you weren’t ready.”
“No- you don’t understand,” Swatting his hand off your shoulder you replied, voice now raised and lined with bitterness. “–he’s dead. I remember that day– I remember it like it was yesterday, Hobie. He’s dead, I–”
“Listen, mate,” Hobie interjected. “Pay attention. That’s not your guy.”
Hobie was…right? But no, the similarities were too uncanny. The Peter that stood before you wasn’t how you remembered. You remember him as blonde, clean-shaven, more lean, and …childless. But you couldn’t shake that feeling inside you that that was him. That voice, that laugh, whose eyes– those were the same.
“... I guess you brought a friend with you?” Peter’s stubbled face was now focused on you. You watched as his eyes widened as he took in your likeness, as if he too, realized who you were. “...Felicia?”
Before you could realize what you were doing, your hand swiftly moved to pull your whip from its holster. Your arm drew back, and your legs pumped under you, lunging your form toward the bathrobe-wearing hero.
The spider-senses of everyone in the room must’ve gone off at the same time at your actions, as Hobie, Miles, Gwen, Peter, and even Mayday flinched at your sudden movements.
A sharp crack sound from your whip echoed throughout the room. But no impact was made. You found yourself bound by glowing reddish-orange webbing before any further attacks could be made on your end. “Fuck– let me at him–” You grunted, teeth-baring, as you wriggled in your restraints.
In front of you, Peter held a cooing Mayday close to his chest. Despite your attempt to pounce on him, his eyes held a deep sadness, a bleakness that normally you wouldn’t see from a stranger. You thought back to Hobie’s comment earlier.
“You remind me of The Cat from my place, y’know.”
You ceased in your struggling, now occupied with the thought that this Peter that stood before you had his own version of…well…you he had a history with.
“You brought Black Cat with you?” Peter continued, speaking to Miles but eyes still trained in your form. “They’re bad luck, y’know kid.” He half-joked, a smirk dancing on his lips but never meeting his eyes. They still remained sad. Apologetic, almost. You couldn’t handle it. Remember what he did to Dad.
He doesn’t deserve to feel sorry.
“God– LET ME GO!” You resumed your struggle, opting to pull at the webs that held you. Connected to the end of each luminous string, Miguel’s clenched hand remained unmoving, a testament to the stark difference in strength between the two of you.
“...Miguel, that’s enough.” Gwen spoke up, eyes meeting him in a silent challenge. After a beat, the webs retracted. You rubbed at your wrists, hissing at the raw marks you knew those restraints had left under your skin. Miles rushed to your side. Lifting his chin, Miguel spoke again, no hint of remorse in his tone.
“Miles. You two disrupted a canon event.”
“Canon event?” You croaked out.
“Wait, what’re you upset about?” Miles asked defensively, “We saved those people–”
“–and that’s the problem.” Miguel interrupted. Hovering around his shoulder, the holographic avatar you recognize from earlier re-materialized. Lyla, he called it. After barking some orders at her, any present light in the room disappeared, shrouding you all in darkness. Before you had any time to adjust to the lack of lighting, a giant projection of a web-like map appeared in front of you.
“What’s this?” Miles asked, stepping slowly towards the glowing diagram.
“This is all of us,” Miguel replied. “Every confirmed spider. All of our lives woven together, in a beautiful web of life and destiny.”
this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
˚₊𓆩༺🕷🐈⬛༻𓆪₊˚
Fucking exhausted.
At this point you weren’t even thinking, just letting adrenaline drive your movements. But the thing about adrenaline, it runs out. And you weren’t sure how much of it you had left, or how long this mess was supposed to last.
While dodging debris and hauling around citizens, you came to a realization. Unlike the others, you didn’t have powers. You were never bitten by a radioactive kitten, and neither was your father as far as you’re aware. You didn’t shoot out hairballs from your palms or have super-strength, you couldn’t claw your way up walls or always land perfectly on your feet, unlike the others, you were just human. And your human-ness was really starting to weigh down on you right about now, as you felt your feet slide out from under you, and your wrists start to ache while you did your best alongside Pav to keep a city bus from toppling over the edge of a broken bridge.
You grit your teeth and groaned, nothing in your mind but fuzz, body fueled by the desperate willpower the screams of civilians around you provided. Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt the ground rumble behind you, deepening the cracks that formed around your feet. A pained shout of Miles’ name from Gwen sounded out.
After what felt like forever, the strain on your arms had been slightly relieved. You cracked your eyes open, met with Hobie by your side, joining you in the upward pull of the city bus. After a few more hearty tugs, the bus was finally on solid ground. You heaved a heavy sigh, finally feeling the full weight of your adrenaline crash. Your mind spun and your stomach churned. Under you, your legs began to wobble. With nothing but exhaustion on your mind, you embraced the slump of your body that followed. Before you felt yourself hit the ground, a firm hand gripped your shoulder, steadying your unstable form. Besides you, an English accent mumbled some sort of consolidation your ringing ears didn't manage to pick up. Still, in your hazy state, you turned your head towards Hobie and shakily parted your lips. “...Is it over?”
Before you could catch a response, you felt a new pair of arms wrap themselves around your form. You clamped your eyes shut in surprise, and by the time you opened them, the intimate squeeze that engulfed you was gone. In front of you, Pav stood with a hand on his chest, head lowered in a silent ‘thank you’. Despite everything, a smile crept its way onto your face.
The tender moment was quickly cut short with more rumbling. But this wasn’t another signal of more destruction, it was different. This time it felt…warbled…time bending. In the direction of the noise, what looked like a giant, spider-shaped ship descended from a bright portal. It landed with a heavy thud, and opened its large mouth to release what looked like…more? Spider-people…? You let out a wry laugh. You were beginning to sense a pattern.
Walking first out of the ship with an air of authority, was a familiar face. “Okay, guys, secure the area, clear all civilians, and let’s contain this quantum hole.” Your mind flashed back to the night you and Miles jumped headfirst into this mess. In the midst of Spots’ destruction that night, her holographic form stood alongside Gwen. Just as you were about to turn to mention this revelation to Miles, he was already taking confident strides towards the pregnant hero. Not before grabbing a hold of your wrist and dragging you behind him, forcing you to join him in his determined trot towards the now-frowning Spider-woman. Of course.
Your brows began to knit together and a nervous smile plastered itself on your lips. “Hah…Miles, what do you think you’re doing,” You tried to tug your wrist away, which he did loosen his grip, but his stride didn’t falter once. Breaking your train of worry, he spoke your name. “Just trust me with this.” He replied with a shrug in his shoulders and a smile clear in his voice. “Trust me.” He squeezed your wrist before letting go and quickening his pace, now walking in front of you.
Similar to his determined stride, the cheeriness in his voice refused falter as he began to address the Spider-heroine. “Hey, I’m Miles, and uh, that’s Black Cat back there,” The pregnant hero jutted her chin into the air, walking with clear frustration thinly veiled with nonchalance. Despite her obvious display of ignorance towards him, Miles continued. “Uh- we all actually met before, when I was invisible and Cat-” A knot began to weave and tighten in your stomach as you felt the gaze of the older woman meet yours. She lowered her chin, looking at you through her eyebrows. She walked quicker now, towards you. You gulped. “I know who you are,” She mumbled, finally addressing Miles. “But you, Hardy,”
huh?
She stopped before you, never once breaking her glare. She let out a deep sigh, letting her shoulders slump. You, on the other hand, couldn’t be any more tense. “You’re really not supposed to be out here.”
How did she know my name?
“How do you know my-”
“Okay- wait, let me explain-” Gwen stepped between the two of you. “Miguel wants you back at HQ.” Gwen was quickly shut down before any sort of explanation could escape her masked lips. “Wait, where are we-” “All of you.” Your confused sentiments were quickly shut down as well, met with a quick sweep of the hand of the hero before walking off towards the ship. The knot in your stomach loosened. Only slightly. Beside you, Miles whooped excitedly. “I’m going to HQ?”
You shouted towards the rest of the group from the ceiling. Or was it the floor? Or maybe just a wall? This building made no sense to you. Granted, it probably wasn’t designed with Cats in mind. While Miles, Gwen, and Hobie walked comfortably upside-down, their feet sticking effortlessly to every surface they touched, you relied on swinging your form around via grappling hook. Occasionally, gravity would be on your side and you would catch yourself walking like normal across what you assumed was a floor, but just as you would start to get comfortable, you began to fall upwards. Or would it be downwards?
“It’s a bit much, innit?” Hobie mumbled back. “Pff,” You chucked. “More than a bit- SHIT-!”
Doubling over in pain, you let go of your hook. Screaming out, you tried to grab at yourself in an attempt to ground the sting that shot through your nerves. You tried to grab at yourself, but you felt nothing. You felt like you were coming undone. You were coming undone, you were falling apart, you were-
“Here.”
And as the pain was never there, it was gone entirely. A pressure on your wrist. Looking towards your arm you were met with a bright blue rubbery band.
“It’s a day pass. Keeps you from…” You heard the same pained grunt from Miles, who now crouched beside you, face contorted in pain. “…doing that.” He snapped the band across his wrist, sending you a worried glance before helping you up.
Continuing your trek through the HQ, you subconsciously felt yourself grow more on guard. You recognized this feeling, it was the exact same one you would always feel while sneaking past security during heists, the exact same feeling you would get slinking around CCTV cameras late at night.
You were being watched.
Glancing around the space, you easily confirmed that yes, you were being watched. Quite intensely too. As you trudged behind the group you instinctively rested your hand on the holster of your whip, noticing how the masked eyes of the Spider-people around you seemed to follow your every move. You lifted your chin, adjusting your posture to walk with a stronger, cockier air in your step. The staring turned to whispers, the whispers turned to murmurs. Your lips began to pull into a smirk. Once again, The Black Cat was watched, feared, the center of attention.
Would it be wrong if you said you missed this feeling?
If you focused enough, you could decipher the mumblings that floated around you. And one thing especially kept on putting you off.
…The Black Cat…Cat is here?...Black Cat…Hardy…Cat Burglar…Thief…Hardy…Cat.. Hardy?…Hardy…Hardy…
…Felicia?
They all knew your goddamn name. Your last name, at least. Fearful mumbles of ‘Hardy, Hardy, Hardy’ filled your ears, mixed with another name you didn’t recognize. ‘Felicia, Felicia, Felicia’. You tried to not let how disturbed you were show on your face. Lifting your head higher, you continued your strut.
You asked, eyes illuminated orange by the glowing prison before you.
“Anomalies,” Answered above you, a small, weirdly fashionable, digital avatar. “Folks who ended up in the wrong dimension. We kick their butts and send them home.”
Glowering looks were sent in the direction of the group as you and Miles curiously peered at the multiple caged anomalies in the room. Men with eight tentacled arms strapped to their backs, tall figures with crystal balls for heads, a man with the posture of a vulture, a literal vulture- the oddities were neverending.
One in particular caught your eye. A leaner, more feminine figure stood with a cocked hip and arms crossed. The knot was back. Tightening, twisting, as you stepped slowly towards the orange enclosure. As you got closer, more features made themselves apparent to you. Thin heeled boots blended seamlessly into a skin-tight, grayscale suit. Crossed arms lined with white fur lead into ladylike hands, with long, pointed nails decorating their fingertips. A deep v-neck, prominent collarbones, red-painted lips, blue eyes, a tight, high ponytail-
Cat ears.
It seemed both you and the lady before you felt the same way about each other's presence, watching with wide eyes as hers widened as well. By now, the knot has doubled, tripled, tied around itself and every organ in your body. Whatever type of confidence you managed to muster in yourself earlier was long gone now. In front of you, plump, red lips parted to speak.
“Felicia?”
That name again. Shocked still, you shook your head ‘no’. The lady let out a wry laugh. “I know a Cat when I see one,” The click-clacks of high heels sounded out as she stepped closer towards the edge of the cage, now crouching so her face was leveled with yours. She had an elegant, mature face. Her lips were stretched into a small, relaxed smile, but the pained scrunch that was knit into her forehead told you that relaxed was the last thing she was feeling at this moment. “But you’re so…young.” A sigh, followed by a feline-like stretch as she stood back up in her enclosure. “They’re not gonna like you in here, y’know. They’ll make you ‘Go Home’ as soon as he finds out who you are.”
“Wait- wait,” You finally spoke up, breaking out of whatever trance the two of you were caught up in. “Who’s ‘he’? And who are you? And why do you look like me but not…really? And everyone in here knows my last name for some reason and it’s been driving me fucking crazy-”
“Let’s go!” Down the hall behind you, Hobie called out over his shoulder. Another sigh from the anomaly. “Listen, kid. Stay safe. Please.” “You’re not telling me anything-” “It’s too complicated to explain right now, kid.” “I’m not a kid-”
“Felicia Hardy. Black Cat.”
“...you’re…but I-”
“And you’re not the first, or the last, that’s been in this place. Trust me, I’ve seen my fill.”
“But…how?”
“I don’t know how. But I do know that you need to be careful, please. Knowing you, er- us, getting tangled in situations as big as this never ends well-”
“Cat, c’mon!” Hobie called out again. Felicia pressed her lips together, sending you a knowing gleam in her blue eyes and a slight nod. Backing up from her cage, you nodded back. A silent pact, a mysterious bond formed between the two of you that you didn’t really understand. Nevertheless, you trudged on.
this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
˚₊𓆩༺🕷🐈⬛༻𓆪₊˚
You flinched as guitar strings screeched in your ears. The thump thump thumps of heavy boots prompted you to dart your eyes around the room, though you couldn’t quite find the source of the sound. Just as you started to convince yourself you were imagining things, a blur of neon colours dashed past you, crashing into the barrier Miles had been trying so hard to break earlier.
The neon blur posed dramatically before The Spot, summoning a bright smile on the masked faces of Gwen and Pav. The colourful figure reached to strike what looked like to be an electric guitar - a heavy musical note rang in the air. Before you could comment, Gwen piped up in your right ear. “Hobie!”
Pav, on your left. “Hobie, my guy!”
It seemed both you and Miles were on the same wavelength regarding the presence of this new ‘Hobie’ character, speaking up simultaneously. “Hobie?”
“Look at that,” The Spot spoke up. “Another one. I love how many… variations of you guys there are, I mean…”
You squinted, taking in the form of the new Spider-hero. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was but something with his chaotic…nature? Appearance? … Accent? Whatever it was, consider your interest piqued. It didn’t help that you were a stickler for shiny things either - you caught your fingers twitching at the thought of plucking one of those silver pins off his vest…cashing it in maybe…(Are they vintage? I wonder how much they’d be worth…)
Shaking yourself out of your klepto-manic stupor, you instinctively reached for your hook, flinging yourself forward along with Gwen and Pav, dodging attacks Spot had begun to throw at your group. You opted to focus most of your energy on landing whip-lashes on the spotted villain… yet you managed to pick up on the murmurings of the now four young heroes on the other side of the room.
“...bleedin’ from the armpits?”
“Miles, Hobie. Hobie, Miles.”
“Hi, I’ve never heard of you because Gwen barely ever mentions you…”
“You’re the younger from sixteen-ten, right? And who do you reckon that’s supposed to be, Gwendy?”
“Not…really sure yet, actually.”
In the midst of your eavesdropping, you paused. It just now hit you that you never actually told these people who you were. Granted, there hasn’t really been an appropriate time to give a friendly introduction given the fact that Spot has been cons-
CLUNK!
A sharp cry left your lips as Gwen slammed suddenly into your face, landing ungracefully on top of you. She seemed to have popped out of nowhere, Spot’s voids leaving the two of you in a tangled mess of limbs and possibly broken noses. Before any apologies could make their way out of either of your mouths, you felt the ground give out - your stomach drop. Falling through a void, you barely had time to collect your bearings before you were slammed into a desk back-first.
“Y’all make a heck of a team.” Spot teased. “Team?” You mumbled groggily, dizzily reaching for your whip.
“I don’t believe in teams-” Hobie croaked out, squirming in Spot’s crushing grip alongside Miles. “...Aren’t you in a team?”
Spot was cocky. He moved with ease, an air in his step as he flung the group around. Not even bothering to deliver actual blows, Spot depended on throwing around blackened portals, disorienting you all to no end. As best as you could, you kept your eyes trained on Spot. In the corner of your peripheral, Hobie, Gwen, and Pav groaned, piled over each other. A clear product of Spot’s doing.
“This is gonna be good for us, Spider-Man.” Spot stepped once, twice towards Miles. Your body reacted before your mind did, and you found your arm reeling back, striking a lash of your whip in the villains' direction before you could think. He caught it, of course. Not once stuttering, not once releasing his grip, not once pulling his gaze away from Miles.
“You, and me, we’re finally gonna live up to our potential.”
Whirring. Ringing. Growing louder and louder in your ears-
“You’ll finally have a villain worth fighting.”
He still hasn’t let go. In fact, he’s starting to pull you in-
“And I won't be just a JOKE to you!”
A crescendo, into a blast. It knocked you and the others back a significant distance, leaving the end of your whip in the crushing grip of Spot. Your head buzzed violently, and the tips of your fingers tingled from the burn of being dragged across the floor. Your vision spun, and you found yourself blinking frantically in hopes of clearing your fog. A soft clack sounded out before you, and only once your eyes cleared did you recognize it as your whip. Tilting your head upwards, your eyes caught Spot, playfully waving to the group, floating towards the collider.
For the umpteenth time that day, you found yourself acting out before knowing what you were doing. In the back of your mind, you wondered why you were doing this, why you were helping them.
Don’t you remember what he did to Dad?
Nevertheless, your stubbornness powered through. Pushing past the aches, the way your body screamed for rest, you flicked your wrist, wrapping the tip of your whip around The Spots’ center. You pulled like your life depended on it. The salty sting of tears began to prickle in the corner of your eyes. Spot pulled back. He was strong. He was about to drag you over the edge. It hurt. Your fingers hurt, your hands hurt, your arms hurt, you really wanted to let go. You had to let go until-
“You’re not a joke!”
A coil of web around your waist kept you suspended in the air, between The Spot’s pull and the grip of Miles.
“Right gang?”
“Absolutely,” “Completely unamusing.” “I don’t believe in comedy!... Just kidding!”
“See, no one here thinks you’re a joke!”
Spot slowly lowered his head. For a second you thought some progress was being made. Until he raised his arm and-
snip.
You flew back, along with the others. You couldn’t stop it. Spot continued his float towards the violent innards of the collider. The machine rumbled, then paused. Quiet, as if it had never been activated in the first place. You untensed, slouching over as you huffed out a heavy sigh. “It’s over, right?” A soft laugh left Pav’s lips. “Seems like it- looks just like another easy adventure for Spider Ma-”
A frantic choir of ‘no’s interrupted Pav’s relaxed sentiments. You didn’t even have time to act confused before you were hit with another blast. This one ten times stronger than the last. Thankfully, Gwen managed to shoot a few webs in your direction, softening the blow of what could’ve been a harsh landing. In front of you, you heard Miles groan.
“What…was that?”
“Our future.”
You recognized that tone. You recognized that it meant you had to get the hell out of there.
“I’m gonna take everything from you like you took everything from me.”
You took slow steps towards Miles, trying your best to hide the way your hands trembled when you moved. “Miles, we need to leave.”
“See you back home, Spider-man.”
You watched with furrowed brows as Miles shook and panted in a way that was very familiar to you. You wished you could do something. Comfort him the way he did when you encountered Spot- but there was no time for that. The walls were crumbling. You grabbed his arm, forcing him off the ground. “Miles, hey. He’s gone, it’s alright.” You tried to speak words of encouragement to him, but he showed no reaction, gazing right through you. “Liven up mate,” Hobie spoke. “We’ve got to go.”
Miles, still out of it, barely budged. Above the two of you, a large piece of the ceiling was falling fast. Gwen reached for Miles’ free arm and started sprinting, narrowly missing the rubble. On the other side of the room, Pav used his web to pull your form towards him, opting to grip your wrist while he ran towards the buildings’ exit.
Bounding through the halls of the facility, you all managed to make it to the building's balcony, looking down upon the chaos that had begun to stir in the city below. Pav let go of your hand to hunch over and grip his head. With a swift pat on his back, Miles deducted the game plan.
“We’ll clear the path. You slow down that building.” He and the others wasted no time, leaping off the balcony, diving headfirst into the disarray that stirred under you all. “Cat, you follow my lead!” He yelled, now airborne.
“Wh-” You hesitated. Your heart was running a mile a minute in your chest. ‘What the hell did I get into?’ You thought. You didn’t do this. You didn’t save people. The Black Cat was a selfish, egotistical, chaotic antagonist. That’s how it’s supposed to be. No matter how much you want it to change. You sighed, debating turning the other way. You were tired, bruised, even. Plus, it would’ve been best to not meddle in this Spider-business you clearly had no place in - yet, everything in your being screamed for you to follow.
this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
˚₊𓆩༺🕷🐈⬛༻𓆪₊˚
You felt like you were being pulled apart. Immeasurable amounts of pressure was pressed against your form as you were thrown through this vibrant vortex.
You opened your mouth to make an attempt at calling out to Miles, but the only thing to escape your lips was a guttural scream as your body flung deeper into the multiverse. You kept your eyes screwed shut until you felt your stomach drop. Now falling rapidly, you instinctively reached out for your grappling hook until-
“fUCk-”
Pain shot through your system as you glitched out wildly. You faintly heard your name being called out, but the ringing in your ears muffled it greatly. You felt a line of web coiling around your waist, only to pull you towards a firm chest. Eyes screwed closed, you rubbed at your forehead in an attempt to clear your fogged-up state. Opting to use your free hand to wrap around the form that held you tight.
“Miles? What is this place-”
Finally opening your eyes, you were met with a sea of colourful patterns and textures. Buildings piled ontop of eachother, and the streets were packed with traffic. Scents of exotic spices and engine exhaust bombarded your nose alongside the overwhelming sounds of busy-city bustle.
Miles set you down gently on a nearby ledge before swinging off, calling out for Gwen. Collecting your bearings, you secured the end of your grappling hook onto the edge of the ledge and slowly inched your way downwards. You paused to take in the scenery around you. You weren’t home, that’s for sure…something told you that you were quite far from it, actually.
The gravity of your situation had begun to weigh down on you, hard. You were far away from everything you knew, everyone you knew, everyone you take care of– oh god, who’s gonna feed the cats? Or help pay the neighbor's phone bill? Or donate to the women’s shelter? Or-
“Who’s the new guy?”
A cheery voice interrupted your spiraling spree. Swiveling your body towards the source, you were met with three masked forms, each atop a tall, pointed tower. You squinted in their direction, making two of them out to be Gwen and Miles. The third stood tall on the highest point of the tower, sending a masked wink in Miles’ direction.
“Hey Pav, he’s Miles. And he wasn’t invited.”
“New guy must be in love with you~”
Taking in this ‘Pav’ character’s outfit, you deducted him to be another-another Spider-man. (Just how many of these guys are there?) You weren’t sure if it would be a smart choice to hang low or move your way towards the Spider-squad. You were about to decide on the former until you felt a deep rumble.
Flying in the corner of your eye, with newfound speed and agility, was once again, Spot. You took in his new appearance. He seemed to be…spottier. Darker, covered in more holes than you last remember. He bounded around with confidence, aggressively popping in and out of black voids he scattered around the city. Slinking yourself off the ledge, you tried your best to hide your body in shadows as you followed Spot.
But before you could even come close to catching up to him, he was already near the platform base of the tower where Miles and the others still hung. You watched as he reeled his arm back to throw a disk-shaped void in their direction. Adrenaline, fear, and rage now coursing through your veins, you ripped your body away from the darkness-complete focus on reaching the lanky spotted form that stood under you. It seemed the others had the same idea as at the edge of your peripheral, Miles, Pav, and Gwen also jumped in the villain's direction.
“Ah, hello, Spider-man.” Your eyes furrowed brows as Spot's voice reached your ears. You couldn’t, however, stop the giggle from bubbling out your throat as the three young heroes confusedly tried to figure out exactly which Spider-man Spot was addressing. That lighthearted feeling quickly dissipated as you watched The Spot use the dark blot on his torso to violently fling Miles into the nearest wall.
“Miles!” The scream of his name left your mouth before you could think. Three sets of masked eyes flicked in your direction, followed by a head-tilt from Spot.
“Interesting,” The spotted villain spoke. “So you’re here too?”
A groan escaped Miles’ mouth, followed by a strained mumble of your name. Pav’s pointed finger juts in your direction. In what felt like half a second, you were finally standing on the same platform as the others, mustering what you could of your strength to launch the pointed end of your who towards Spot.
Finger still flexed in your direction, the barefooted hero spoke.
“And you are…?”
“I’m-”
“A friend! I-I’ll explain after-”
Miles quickly interrupted your introduction, running towards the spotted villain, who now had cockily tossed himself off the platform. Without hesitation, you followed suit. Out of the corner of your eye, a brief confused glance was thrown between Pav and Gwen before engaging in the chase.
“Can you tell I’ve leveled up my game? I’m on a journey of self-improvement.”
Spot was way stronger than you remembered. As the four of you swung around the city, you all constantly found yourselves wrapped up in Spot’s dark vortexes. He treated you all like ragdolls, using his power to throw you off your own tracks - smash you into whatever solid surface he could. Across your body you felt the aching blossoms of bruises developing under your suit, you silently thanked the intense surge of adrenaline running through your veins for keeping you going this long - given the amount of injuries you’ve probably sustained by now.
You winced once as Miles crashed into a billboard under you, and again as Gwen threw an agitated quip while she swung right past him. As she pulled herself infront of you, you couldn’t help but furrow your brow in wonder of what kind of history they have.
“This romantic tension is so palpable-”
You flinched as Pav suddenly appeared, swinging beside you. You noticed his full attention was on Gwen and Miles, watching intensely as they bickered about the current situation.
“Uh-”
“Will they? Won’t they? How can you guys even concentrate?”
Now overfilled with curiosity, you couldn’t help but engage in Pav’s one-man conversation, casually following beside him as you trailed behind the aforementioned couple into what appeared to be some sort of large scientific facility. With a grin on your face, you tapped Pav’s shoulder before parting your lips.
“So… are those two like a thing? Or-”
“Not sure really,”
Pav responded to you with a nonchalant shrug. You watched as his masked eyes glinted with a mischievous gleam. “But hey… I wonder if he knows about Hobie-”
“What should I know about Hobie?”
“Oh, looks like he did not know.”
You couldn’t help but snicker at Pav’s playfulness, immediately receiving a glare in your direction from Miles. The causality of this conversation had almost made you forget the intensity of your situation. Almost.
The horrified screams of the Alchemax employees filled your ears, followed by the ghoulish sounds of Spots’ spots swallowing up the room around you. You all picked up your pace, now switching to a sprint towards the villain. Just as you were about to reach him-
“UGH-”
A grunt escaped the four of you as you bounced off of this suddenly materialized barrier that separated you all from Spot. Instinctively you began to strike at it- punching, scratching, even using your whip in an attempt to take it down, no luck. You still barely had a grasp on what exactly was going on, but when you saw the large collider in front of you start to move, a heavy pit settled itself in your stomach. This is bad. This is really bad.
“Anyone got any ideas!?” Gwen asked, panic laced through her voice.
“Oh, I have so many, but none for this.”
Exhaustion now conquering your body, you keeled over, dropping your whip to rub at the sweat beading on your forehead. You felt helpless, completely out of ideas. “Miles, what should we do?”
“Stand back,” You watched as Miles stared at his trembling hands. “I’ve been working on something new.”
You, Gwen, and Pav backed up as Miles reached towards the barrier. You took a tentative breath as you watched Miles’ arms surge with energy, holding in anticipation of the barrier breaking down. In your right ear, Gwen whispered.
“Does he usually take this long?”
You whispered back. “I’ve never seen him do this before.” On your left, Pav spoke up. “How long does this usually take?” “That’s what I asked-”
Miles grunted. “Just…give me a second.”
“Do-do you want us to do something? Or do we just stand here-” “Are you like charging it? Or-”
“No. I’m absorbing it so I can shoot it back.”
“Does that hurt? That has to hurt, right?” “Does this power have a name? Or…”
“Please, hold your questions until I’m done breaking this thing!” “It looks like he’s charging it.” “Charging it? Or breaking it?” “Maybe it’s both?”
“Just-Just let me do this!”
Questions towards Miles filled the room. You, too engrossed in asking questions alongside Gwen and Pav, failed to observe how the room had begun to shake. How Miles had begun to shake. The atmosphere grew warm. The collider whirred louder. Tension and aggression bubbling up as seemingly no progress was made towards breaking down the barrier. Just as it felt like there was no hope-
this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
˚₊𓆩༺🕷🐈⬛༻𓆪₊˚
“Miles!”
Hovering over Miles, surrounded by a sea of colour and light, was Gwen Stacy. That Gwen Stacy. How many months has it been since he’d last seen her? That didn’t matter; she was here now, in his room…opening his collective figures. Miles wanted nothing more but to leave. To jump out his window and swing freely with Gwen. Like old times. There was only one problem though…
“I’m… grounded.”
Miles winced. A pregnant pause, until he couldn’t stop the wince on his face from transforming into a grin after he’d heard the teens' response.
“Bummer - is Spiderman grounded?”
———————————————-
“So you’re telling me there’s an elite society with all the best spider-people in it?”
Miles swung behind Gwen, an expression of bewilderment behind his mask as his companion rambled about the society.
“-And Hobie,”
“Who’s Hobie?”
“- he lets me crash in his dimension sometimes,”
“L-like you stay the night?”
At the mention of the name a pang of jealousy flashed through Miles. He never knew she was-all of them were-seeing eachother all this time. While he spent it…alone.
“-Oh and there’s this Lady- Jessica Drew, she rides motorcycles, oh my gosh, I’m leaning so much from her-“
“Oh yeah? I-I’ve learned a lot of new stuff too, I leveled up my whole thing, see?”
Half showing off(and half to rid himself of the growing feeling of envy in his chest), Miles mimicked the graceful flipping style of Gwen Stacy, weaving through narrow gaps in traffic and hanging himself by the ankle. Now behind him, he heard a slight giggle.
“Look at you!”
There it was. That feeling he was so jealous of earlier. From Gwen, from the Spider-society, from The Black Cat. It pooled in his stomach and filled his chest, bursting out his seams in the form of an uncontrollable toothy grin and a giggle back. He felt it. Freedom.
“Look at me!”
—————————————
You were sat atop the roof of your apartment complex, chin resting on your knees. Purring was heard faintly as one of your cats rubbed its side against you, pulling you out of your deep state of pensiveness you had dug yourself into moments prior. You smiled softly as you scratched at the cat. Your smile faded however, as you replayed for the umpteenth time that evening, your conversation with Spider-man.
“Sometimes I just wish things were different, yknow?”
“Different how?”
“Different like, for me.”
“There’s a first time for everything, right?”
You scoffed before sighing deeply. He just didn’t get it, did he? Guess you can’t blame him too much though, if he knew why you did what you did it would practically be the same as ripping off your mask and turning yourself in. Huffing once more, you pushed yourself to stand on the roof. The sun was setting now, the sky blue with tints of pink, orange, and yellow. It was at this moment you realized how long it had been since you took the time to really look at the sunset. It was calm, it was serene, it was-
buzz
A text. Your landlord. Again. Rent was coming up, and you were short last week-pushing all missed fees to this week. Great.
It was at this moment you realized exactly why it had been so long since you took the time to really look at the sunset. Turning away from the painted sky, you collected your feline companions and trudged your way down to your room.
Rummaging through your closet you made it to a makeshift safe designed for the keeping of any valuable items you had seized. Cracking it open with eyes closed and fingers crossed-
It was empty. Great.
You let out a lengthy groan, shifting your weight back to lay on your floor. You hadn’t gone out heist-ing since the incident with Spot. Rolling over on your side, you were met with two bright, wide, yellow eyes, and a large tuft of black fur in your face. As if on cue, the large tuft of fur nuzzled your face before dropping a black leather mask before you. Your black leather mask.
A silent beat passed as you stared at the mask on the ground. Sighing once more, you picked up the mask, your words to Spider-man ringing behind your ears.
“The Cat and The Spider. We can’t truly change who or where we are. No matter…how much we want to.”
Now fully suited, you headed your way towards your window, looking back at your fluffy black friend.
The sun was setting now, the sky blue with tints of pink, orange, and yellow. It was at this moment Gwen realized how long it had been since she took the time to really look at the sunset. Miles smiles, a lighthearted feeling in his chest. Sitting on the underside of this secluded ledge, Miles relished in the serene feeling that enveloped the two of them. In this moment, looking out into the city, the two young heroes felt like they were the only ones in the entire universe. They were alone, together. It was nice.
“ In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spider-Man.”
At the sound of Gwen’s voice, Miles turned his head. As she finished her sentence, his lips curved into a soft smile, and he found himself subconsciously leaning into her. Looking up at her, he blinked as he noticed how Gwen returned the smile, but held a tensed, tight-lipped expression behind it. Before he could comment, she parted her lips to speak.
“… And in every other universe, it doesn’t… end well.”
Miles flinched as he processed Gwen's words, opting to shift his body away from her. All of a sudden, his mind was swarmed with memories from his earlier interaction with his feline counterpart. Looking once again into Gwen‘s eyes, Miles took note that The Cat held the same pained expression she displayed now. Before he can even begin to think of a response, Miles' mouth began to move.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”
Miles’ chest was beating wildly now. He had expected Gwen to run away – to block him out like The Black Cat had done moments prior. But the warm pressure he felt pressing against his shoulder spoke differently. Like he did with the thief, Miles sighed deeply. This time, with a content smile across his face.
———————————————————-
It was night time now, and you were on the prowl – grappling around for the perfect opportunity to strike, when you stumbled across the most peculiar thing.
You assumed it was an abandoned building, but you’ve seen a handful of those, this one was different. It had been almost turned inside out, pieces of itself sticking out of… itself? And –
“Is that…glitching?”
Whatever what was going on, one thing for sure, this whole situation felt eerily familiar to you. Every fiber of your being screamed that this was all Spots doing.
Shit.
No way was he about to steal another gig from you.
On tipped-toes, you made your way into the wrecked building, when suddenly you were tugged by an invisible force. Literally.
“GH-“
Before you could continue screaming, the invisible force held you close and slapped its hand across your mouth.
“What are you doing?” The voice whisper-shouted.
Spider-Man. Invisibility, huh? Cool.
Squirming free from his grip, he tried your best to glare in the direction of the voice.
“Um, what are you doing?” You whisper-shouted back.
“Cat!”
“I couldn’t help myself! I was curious…”
“Yeah, I hear that’s bad for cats-”
“No nononononononononoNO!”
The two of you flinch to the sound of this new, distressed voice. While Miles remained invisible, you quickly ducked behind a support beam, squinting at the source of the sound.
In front of you holding an extremely panicked expression behind their mask, was another… another Spider-person?
Just when your curiosity couldn’t have been piqued any further, this new Spider-person, from what looked like to be a watch(a super bad-ass watch, you might add), began to play a projection of-you called it, The Spot.
Rambling erratically about some sciencey-shit you’d maybe understand if you paid more attention in physics, you watched as the hologram of the spotted man stumbled over himself, as well as practically every possible item in the room. You inched closer in an attempt to gauge more about this whole situation, albeit, you still didn’t catch that much, only managing to cling onto words like ‘holes’ or ‘collider’.
“Shoot…”
The hologram played out, and the new Spider’s panic grew.
“shootshootshootshoot-“
The Spots’ hologram began to mumble angrily- was that your name you heard in there? And Spiders? A lot of Spiders’ name, actually. You had no idea he’d had a run-in with him too. Soon enough, the panic began to rub off on your Spider-Man, as you heard him start to mirror the words of the stranger.
“Shoot.”
“UGH, no! Gwen Gwengwengwengwe-“
“Gwen! Hi~”
A…pregnant… Spider-woman appeared before the three of you. You truly seen it all now.
“Spider?”
Calling out to him, you tried your best to remember where his invisible form last was. No response. You whipped your head around wildly until you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Do you…know what’s going on?”
Miles kept his eyes trained on Gwen, as she explained to the Spider-woman about her detour with him.
“I have an idea.”
“Do you know who they are? Are they… other Spider-Men?”
“… never see him again, all right?”
The new spider person(whom you collected her name to be Gwen), spoke. Her shoulders dropped, and her head hung low as the holographic form of the pregnant hero disappeared. You watched in silence as she reached a hand before her mask and tugged it off. The hand on your shoulder squeezed before slipping away. Turning in your direction, a maskless Gwen stared past you - into the night. Upon seeing her face, you flinched. Ready to run off had she noticed your presence. But she didn’t. With glazed eyes, she stared right past you. You blinked, and for a moment, your jaw fell. She was young, looked around your age with neck-length blonde hair, half shaved. Her brows furrowed in a way that felt familiar to you, in a way that said, ‘I wish things were different’. She remained staring for a few moments, you and Miles stared back. It was quickly broken by a flash of bright light, spiralling in patterns and colours you’ve never seen before, And pulling her mask on, Gwen stepped in.
You didn’t anticipate your Spider-Man to be standing upside down when he came out of his invisible state, yet there he was. Facing away from you, towards the orange and red amalgamation of light Gwen stepped into moments prior.
“Sp-“
“I’m going in.”
“Wai-no. What do you mean you’re going in-”
“I mean, Cat, I'm going in there.”
His voice was raised now, shoulders tensed. He jumped down from the ceiling, stepping towards the portal. Realizing he was unmasked, you took in the dark curls that framed his face. You felt a strong urge to pull your own face covering off.
You did.
“Then… I’m coming with you.”
“You can’t-”
Spider turned around to face you. Brows furrowed and mouth open to send a negative retort toward your way, until his breath hitched as he became aware of the bareness of both of your faces. You stood, arms crossed, staring into the eyes of the boy. He had gentle features, warm brown eyes. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly where you’ve seen him. School, maybe? He must’ve recognized you, seeing as he stared back with a bewildered look on his face. He closed his mouth, form un-tensing. You took the silence to speak once more.
“I said, I’m coming with you.”
You stepped towards the portal, reaching to pull your mask back on.
“I said I wanted things to be different, right? Well, I – I feel like this is a chance to change things up…what is it you said again? That ‘there’s a first time for everything’? Well, what if you were right, Spider, th-”
“Miles.”
You looked at, with a soft smile on the young heroes face
“Miles, my name.”
“… Miles.”
You tested out his name before speaking yours, one he must’ve recognized, as he responded with a flinch.
“You said your last names’ Hardy? Like Walter Hardy? The noto-
“ Notorious Black Cat burglar? Yeah no shit, Sherlock.“
Your mouth stretched into a wide smile as the serious air between the two of you dissipated. The portal crackled, before beginning to shrink in size. Miles spoke,
“So you’re… you sure you want to do this?“
There was a part of you that screamed at you to stay. That worried about everything you were leaving-by leaving. Guilt seeped into the back of your mind and you turned away from Miles to face the dark city skyline.
You reflected on your conversation earlier. Did you really want to be The Cat forever? Become like your father and die doing this job?
Did you really?
“I’m sure.”
You and Miles both now reached to tug your masks back on. The two of you sent one last look back out onto the city before nodding at eachother, and diving in.
this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
˚₊𓆩༺🕷🐈⬛༻𓆪₊˚
Miles sighed, his eyes falling on his sketchbook. Vibrant colours littered the pages, memories drawn in hues of pink, blue, and yellow. He missed them dearly - Aaron, Peter…Gwen. Flipping through the parchment, Miles is reminded of how free he felt when he was with that group. Being Spider-Man hasn’t been the same without them.
Sighing once more, Miles flipped forward a few pages, landing randomly on a sketch of The Black Cat.
His drawing of the notorious thief stretched in a dynamic pose filled the page - form bending a way he’d always thought was comically feline. Sketchbook now in hand, Miles took a closer look at the portrait, focusing on the fur detailing on The Cats’ costume that ended right below that grin.
That signature smile.
Sinister, playful, devious, a myriad of emotions could be interpreted behind it - but the one that was the most clear to Miles… was freedom.
Despite the criminal status of The Black Cat, Miles couldn’t help but feel envious of the thief's display of cockiness. The confidence carried, the lightheartedness - to Miles, all of it just screamed free.
Miles’ daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a nagging tingle down his spine - an alert, signaling danger nearby.
The streets of Brooklyn were calm today, as calm as they could be, a stark contrast to the ever-brightening warning signs that flashed behind Miles’ eyes.
Confused, and slightly panicked, Miles pulled down his mask, swinging out his window, only to be met with… nothing.
Until,
Until that comically feline form zipped right past his face, Cheshire grin painted on.
Speak of the devil.
“Hey!”
—————————————
You usually didn’t conduct any…business during the day, and if you did, you usually would swing straight back home through paths hidden in shadows, away from any eyes that may draw attention to your presence. Today, however, was different. You were on a high.
Grappling hook in hand, you weaved your way between buildings, flipping, giggling, and twirling your way through the main roads.
‘What business exactly did you complete in order for you to feel so boastful?’ You might ask?
Well,
Recently, your favourite local feline rehabilitation shelter has been going through some heavy financial trouble, so grave to the point where the owners had to either completely shut down, or sell the company to another organization to make a bit of cash instead.
To the struggling owners, the latter option seemed much more favourable, and even more so, attainable, given that they had already been contacted by an interested buyer.
Millionaire Hernandez Stillwell , owner of Stillwell Pound Co, known for their terrible breeding environments and kill shelters, had been looking to expand his company to Brooklyn Heights, and had offered a few hundred thousand to the poor owners, in exchange for their shelter, and every cat inside.
Long story short, an anonymous donation of a measly 1.3 million dollars may or may not had happened to land into the hands of the feline shelter owners(that may or may not have been attained by illegally selling a stolen diamond necklace), allowing them to carry on with their business without having to sell out to kill shelter scum.
Sporting a Cheshire grin, you proudly took your victory lap through the main roads, passing civilians, cars, Spider-man…
Ah,shit-
“Hey!”
It only took half a second for your heart rate to spike at the sound of the boys’ voice. Swinging yourself faster in hopes of losing the hero, you flipped around now with more purpose. Breath quickened, you wracked your brain wondering why, in the middle of the day, would he be out here?
As if reading your mind, the hero yelled out, also swinging faster in hopes of reaching you, “Why are you out here in the middle of the day?”
You scoffed, “None of your business, Spider-”
You quipped back at him, flipping your body to face him in the process. With you now unfocused on your swinging, Miles took this opportunity to sling a line of webbing towards your own hook line - wildly throwing off your center of gravity.
You thrashed around in the air as a few more ropes of web thwipped in your direction, and you suddenly found yourself in a painfully similar position that mimicked your first encounter with the Spider. Rotating slowly, arms glued to your sides, knees pressed together, bundled up in a humiliating cocoon hanging before the young hero.
Contrary to the Spider, you bore no sort of power that aided you to sense the hostility of an enemy. However, even in your dizzy, upside-down state, you were extremely aware of the different energy he was emitting. There were no traces of defensiveness, no jerky adrenaline-fueled movements, no sense of danger, like there was that night you fought. There was only…curiosity?
You sighed before speaking, the dizzy feeling dying down to a low buzz behind your eyes.
“This time I swear, Spider, I’m not up to anything heist-y. You have to believe me. I was just about to head home whe-”
“Are you… okay?”
You blinked. He wasn’t here to turn you in? Make you empty your satchel? Force you to return anything? Your brows furrowed and your lips parted, but no sound escaped you. The hero cleared his throat, his voice suddenly in a much lower octave.
“I saw you with Spot, er- you and The Spot that night.”
At the mention of the villain's name your throat dried up. All of a sudden you were flooded with memories from your unsuccessful heist that night. His hand, hard and cold on your wrist, the pure hate that bled from his voice, the lack of air in your lungs when engulfed by the void-
So caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized the way your body started to shake, the way your breathing quickened.
Miles wasn’t ready for you to react like this. Honestly, he had no idea how you would react at all. Part of him expected for you to throw back some snarky remark, or attempt to distract him to escape your webbed-up position. But there you were, the cocky, always-gets-away-with-it thief, The Black Cat, shaking like a leaf before him. Miles found his hands moving on their own. Removing the webbing and hesitantly wrapping around your form.
Miles parted his lips to fill the silence, replace it with something, anything to get you to calm down. Before he could however, your voice broke the quiet.
“That has never- I’ve never…seen, or-or felt anything like that. It was like - you know me, Spider, you know how these things go and it’s never violent, ever. He was just so strong, and - and it was hard to breathe, and-”
You were rambling now, and Miles listened to every word. He understood exactly what you were talking about, having experienced the strength of The Spot already.
“ -get away with all the time! And yeah, sure, maybe I was a bit too ambitious trying to go for this gem and everything, but had he not gotten it, I could’ve paid for so much, Spider!”
By now your breath had slowed down to normal. Your heart was at a regular rate and the trembling had ceased. You were now sitting, rambling about random heists (which with him as the one that's supposed to catch you, he laughed way too much at some of the *criminal* stories you recalled), smiling softly under your mask and leaned slightly against his side. Sighing gently, you spoke once again.
“Sometimes I just wish things were different, yknow?”
Miles tilted his head in your direction. “Different how?”
“Different like, for me. Sometimes I think, ‘what if it was me that was bitten by that spider?’ or ‘what if I never started stealing altogether?’ Out of all the millions of different outcomes, of different… realities that are out there, I landed in this one. Yknow what I mean?”
If there was anyone who knew what you meant, it was him. There wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t think about his friends. All of them in different universes than him. Ever since the collider incident, there was still a lonely part of his body that wished he was a part of those different universes.
“I know…exactly what you mean. But there’s a first time for everything, right? You always have time to change for the better, Cat. You don’t have to be the bad guy in this story.”
You removed yourself from his side, brows now furrowed.
“No - no, Spider. I can’t just ‘change’.” You stood, arms crossed.
“But you can-”
“But I can’t. This is me”. You gestured to yourself before repeating the action in his direction. “Just like how that is you. The Cat and The Spider. The thief and the hero. We can’t truly change who or where we are. No matter…how much we want to.”
“Wai-”
Miles couldn’t get a word in before you leaped off the building, grappling away with a tensed expression. He sat there for a minute or two, watching your form shrink as you flipped away. He sighed before standing up, and thwipping his way back to his place. He snuck in quietly through his window, given that he’s technically still grounded, changed out of his costume, and proceeded to once again, pick up his sketchbook.
He opened to his drawing of The Black Cat, squinting at the fierce expression he had etched on. Flipping to a blank page, he started another sketch. This one still captured the thief’s likeness, but in a much more gentle light. Miles drew the gentle expression you had on when you spoke, even with minimal features showing through your mask, he still remembered vividly the softness in your face. When finished, he silently deemed the sketch one of the most beautiful in the sketchbook. Setting it down, he threw on his headphones and proceeded to lay on his bed.
Miles closed his eyes, losing himself in the music. Before he could drift off to sleep he was interrupted by a voice he hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime.
A/N: sorry for the lack of updates. went through a loss in the family. as always your messages and interaction keep me going! as an apology ill be uploading chapters tomorrow and the day after as well :) Thanks again for all your support and I am forever grateful for those who continue to read my writing despite my inconsistent updates <33
this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
------------------------------------------------
A/N: Spot is here!!
Hey all! Okay so first things first thank you so much for all the support of the last chapter! It honestly means alot given that ive never written before lol. Alsoooo sorry for the radio-silence after the last release, i just graduated highschool! So yay for me :) also means that ill have much more time to write since its summer break for me now. Lastly,sorry if this chapter seemed kinda slow, I wanted to try to incorporate what this universes’ Felicia Hardys “canon events”(or what would be of her canon events) would look like in this chapter to set up a bit of backstory, as someone who doesn’t read the comics nor play the games, pls forgive any inaccuracies in Felicias lore as I am only going based off of wikipedia (plus in this story reader is a minor so I wanted to exclude the nsfw trauma that Felicia goes through in og story) I also wanted to find out a way how to integrate reader into the main plot which is why i decided to feature Spot in this chapter :D thanks again for the support and don’t forget that this chapter along with any future ones will be posted to ao3/tumblr under the same title!
P.S. Much more Spider-Miles/Black Cat interactions next chapter!!
Word Count: 1844
˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
You remembered it like it was yesterday.
Seven months ago, Brooklyn, New York.
Your father - The Black Cat’s face on every screen in the country, but most importantly yours.
BREAKING NEWS: WORLD-RENOWNED CAT BURGLAR CAUGHT IN THE ACT : IDENTITY SHOCKS THE NATION
…huh?
LIVE ON THE SCENE: ‘BLACK CAT’ REVEALED TO BE MULTI MILLIONAIRE WALTER HARDY AFTER RUN-IN WITH SPIDER-MAN
…no, this-
THIS JUST IN: CAT BURGLAR WALTER HARDY PRESUMED DEAD AT HEIST SCENE - POSSESSIONS TO BE TURNED IN TO OFFICIALS
This can’t be happening.
It was all too much at once.
He never kept it secret from you. You knew about your father’s job.
You knew all about what he did. The planning, the heists, the reselling, he had done it for years. And you knew all about it. But he had been doing this for years. Long enough to allow your family to live very comfortably. Long enough that you believed he would never be caught.
But yet there you were, all that you knew burned to the ground in a matter of minutes.
You remembered it like it was yesterday. Frantically packing everything you could into any bag you could find; clothes, money, pictures, weapons, anything - before they could take it away from you.
And when they did, it was brutal.
Live-streamed news coverage of men raiding your home, rummaging through your stuff- your father’s stuff- as if he never existed.
Soon enough there were auctions. Bids, worth millions, on your father’s items, broadcasted across the nation, with drinks and music and finger foods - they made a fucking sport out of it.
You remembered it like it was yesterday, the cheers in the street after the big-bad-black-cat was pronounced dead. The endless praise Spider-man received, that of which he took with a smile on his face. You had wished you could kill him.
You remembered it like it was yesterday, the day Peter Parker died.
You laughed.
. . . . . . . . . .
Seven months later, Brooklyn, New York.
Ugh.
Muscles aching, you stretched up in your bed, and groaned. Ruffling the bedhead out of your hair, you reluctantly trudged out of your mattress to open a window. Coincidentally, one of your many cats was perched perfectly on its sill, wide-eyed and tail flicking in your direction.
“...This whole heist stuff is really catching up to me, huh?”
The cat stared. You sighed. You really had to get yourself some friends.
Ever since your fathers passing, you’ve basically been on your own. Shortly after all his (and your) possessions were seized, you hopped around until you managed to find shelter in a shitty apartment on the west side of town. You, fueled purely by spite (with a tasteful teeny tiny dash of vengeance on the side), inherited the criminal persona of your father, along with his criminal tendencies, and took upon yourself the name of The Black Cat.
All this time you’ve managed to keep your identity completely secret, not even your resellers knew who you were. That came with one major drawback though… you were extremely lonely.
Even with your frequent charity rounds around the community, noone really knew who you were. Even though Black Cat was nonviolent, the name was widely feared seemingly everywhere you went. Even with your days at school, the school you’ve been going to for months now, you made your way around the halls unnoticed.
Speaking of school, you were late.
Shit.
Spending ample time dazing out your window, you’ve completely lost track of time. You disregarded your hair and rushed to pull on your uniform. Stumbling around your complex you hastily dumped too large of a portion of cat food into the automatic feeder, something you’re sure the cats will be grateful for. Shoving a few snacks into your bag, you simultaneously shuffled into your school shoes, proceeding to dash out the door.
Sprinting down the stairs, nearly tripping once, twice, you whipped out your phone to check when the next bus route would arrive. 35 minutes.
Shitshitshit.
You paused, still in the stairwell, before turning to sprint in the opposite direction, towards the rooftop terrace. Creaking open the door, you checked to make sure noone else was up there before making your way towards the edge of the terrace. To anyone else but you, it would look like a young student was about to make an unfortunate decision and jump. And jump you did.
You fell for a few seconds, relishing in the way your stomach dropped. You’d never get tired of that feeling. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building. Pulling and releasing, you quickly fell into a swinging pattern, towards Brooklyn Visions.
Hidden from the eyes of civilians, you swung yourself through the shadows. Everyone looked so small from up there, and for a brief second, you found power in your lonesome. In the corner of your eye you noticed what seemed to be a lanky white figure clumsily flying through the air. (You paid it no mind).
Dropping down into a dark alleyway much closer to campus, you continued your mad dash towards the main entrance. Winded, you finally made your way inside the building, a thin layer of sweat shined on your forehead. The hallways were empty, class must be in session. You took a few steps forward, making your way towards your classroom until being knocked over by a student, very evidently in a hurry.
“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to-I’m just in a rush, I didn’t mean…”
The boy reached out his hand to help you up.
“Hey, it's no problem, I get it.”
You smiled, and took your hand in his. He hesitated for a moment, staring, brows furrowed at your now interlocked hands, before nodding and continuing his sprint down the hallways.
You took in his disheveled appearance, his wonky tie, his half-tucked shirt, untied laces, dark eyes, curly hair, brown skin, sweaty palms…
Your thoughts were quickly interrupted with the shrill ringing of the school bell. Suddenly, the hallways flooded with students rushing towards their next classes, you decided to follow suit.
On the other side of the hallway, Miles Morales lingered on how his spidey-sense flashed alarms in his head when his hand touched yours. Every nerve in his system telling him to run, fight, dodge, anything to get away from you-he couldn't put his finger on why. (He paid it no mind). Blaming it on nerves, Miles shoved his way through the packed hallways, dreading the meeting waiting for him in the guidance counselor's office.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
School was a bust, as always. Nothing new, you made your way through the rest of the day unnoticed. As always. But you didn’t have time to think about that right now.
At the moment, you were in the middle of going through numerous number-codes on a padlock blocking the vault door to an extremely expensive gemstone. You’ve been salivating over this stone for weeks now, planning out how and when exactly you would strike to get this thing in your hands. You could see it now, the headlines, the chaos, after some rando millionaire’s little rock was taken from him…
“Woah, hey, you’re new!”
You flinched, hard. Whipping around towards the source of this unusually chipper voice. You were met with… a cow? … Man?
You stared, hard.
“Okay, hey. The ogling isn’t necessary… I just-”
The cowman’s sentence was cut short with a quick lash of your whip, that of which he caught…? Your whip seemed to phase right through a large black hole on his torso, the opposite end appearing in a similar black hole right behind you, the whips end striking your back. You cried out, hit with the full force of your lash.
Sinister giggles emerged from the spotted figure, pointed towards your pained form. You trembled, in shock.
“It’s rude to interrupt.”
Spot stepped slowly towards you, his…well, spots, whirring aggressively, pointedly. You were frozen on the ground. Staring up at him, your lips trembled open.
“What,” You coughed. Once, twice. “-what are you?”
The black and white figure straightened, only to then fold over into a dramatic, hilariously unthreatening pose.
“You, can call me… The Sp-”
“Some sort of cow?” You snickered. It was now his turn to flinch, hard.
“I am NOT a-” The cow cleared his throat. “I am not a cow…whydoeseveryonesaythat…I, am the most dangerous villain you’ve ever seen, The Spo-”
“I mean, what’s with that getup?” The grin on your face grew. “Is that… is that supposed to be a costume? Orrrr…”
The Spot sighed, defeated. “...it’s skin.”
“It’s skin?”
“Yes, yes, now I-”
You stood up, energy back and eyes crinkled.
“Wow, that’s…hm, interesting…skin, that’s skin? Sorry, sorry-listen man, I uh, I really gotta get back to this, so if you don’t mind?”
Stepping backwards in offence, the spotted figure shook in anger before swinging out his arm, releasing numerous dark voids around the room. Hitting practically every surface, but one most importantly, landing on the vault door, separating you, from your stone.
“Ah-wait-”
Swiftly, The Spot weaved his way through his holes, limbs popping up and out around the room in a way you couldn’t even begin to reach for your whip.
No way was he about to take it from you.
But take it, he did.
In what felt like seconds, the whole room was engulfed in black. Stumbling backwards, you fell through one of the voids, flailing ungracefully, swimming through nothing.
It was hard to breathe.
A shrill crackling terrorized your ears, and before you, appeared a very disheveled Spot, now fully black with white spots, facial dot whirring and trained on you.
Gem in hand.
Panic.
You were panicking. The sound of blood thrummed in your ears as you squirmed around in nothingness. Fuck the rock, you just had to get out of here.
A cold hand grabs your wrist, dragging you upwards, towards the crackling form.
For the second time today, you were frozen.
“I am not a cow,”
The form spoke lowly.
“I am not some villain of the week”,
Frozen still, you did nothing but stare straight into his glare.
“I. Am. The Spot”.
Suddenly, you were dropped. For the second time today, your stomach dropped with you. Next thing you know you’re falling through another void, leading not into darkness, but through the city skyline. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building.
As soon as your feet reached a solid surface, your legs buckled. Heaving, you failed to process what just took place, heart pounding in your ears.
“...the fuck was that?”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Miles received word of commotion taking place downtown, something to do with spots. He had hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was, and it was. It was, and was so much worse.
Dark spots littered a large manor, maniacal cackling emerging from its center. In the corner of his eye a familiar masked figure hunched over, breathing rapidly, staring straight ahead at the mess of spots.
(He paid it some mind.)
------------------------
Ppl that asked me to tag them!(thxx 4 the support!)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Spider-Man: Spider-Verse (Sony Animated Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Miles Morales | Prowler (Earth-42 Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse)/Reader, Miles Morales/Reader, Gwen Stacy | Spider-Gwen/Reader, Hobie Brown/Reader, Pavitr Prabhakar/Reader
Characters: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy | Spider-Gwen, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Miguel O'Hara, Spot | Bagel Guy (Spider-Man: Across the Universe), Felicia Hardy, Jessica Drew
Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, this is my first time writing so pls excuse the cringe, Theif!!Reader, Stealing, Crime, Angst evenually, reader is a kleptomaniac, kinds sorta based on my shifting script but shhh you guys dont need to know that, Sad Backstory, Trauma?, everyone listen to no role modelz rn
Summary:
Your name was Y/N Hardy. Also known as The Black Cat-
But noone knew that.
Unsolved, undetected, unstoppable. Notorious for stealing multitudes of notable, expensive works, all without leaving a hint pointing to who’s behind the mask.
Being the Black Cat was an easy side-gig- until Spider-man showed up.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Spider-Man: Spider-Verse (Sony Animated Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Miles Morales | Prowler (Earth-42 Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse)/Reader, Miles Morales/Reader, Gwen Stacy | Spider-Gwen/Reader, Hobie Brown/Reader, Pavitr Prabhakar/Reader
Characters: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy | Spider-Gwen, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Miguel O'Hara, Spot | Bagel Guy (Spider-Man: Across the Universe), Felicia Hardy, Jessica Drew
Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, this is my first time writing so pls excuse the cringe, Theif!!Reader, Stealing, Crime, Angst evenually, reader is a kleptomaniac, kinds sorta based on my shifting script but shhh you guys dont need to know that, Sad Backstory, Trauma?, everyone listen to no role modelz rn
Summary:
Your name was Y/N Hardy. Also known as The Black Cat-
But noone knew that.
Unsolved, undetected, unstoppable. Notorious for stealing multitudes of notable, expensive works, all without leaving a hint pointing to who's behind the mask.
Being the Black Cat was an easy side-gig- until Spider-man showed up.
this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name <33
˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
A/N: Hey to whoever reading this! Thanks for taking the time to do so !! This is the first fic i’ve wrote ever so please excuse any hiccups. This concept of a Black Cat variant has been bouncing around in my head since the first movie, so I decided to write it down. I’m not really sure if I’ll continue this to be a full story, (if I see that people are reading it, then of course I will), but this is kinda like a prologue/test chapter so my ideas don’t die without ever seeing the light of day. I’ll also be posting this on ao3 under the same title!! Feel free to comment, criticize, and give any ideas into how I can further incorporate the reader into the plot. Thanks again & enjoy!
P.S. I’m not sure if I want this to be romantic or just a reader-insert just yet. So don’t expect romance anytime too soon.
The drop of your stomach when you lowered into the building,
The sound of your heart pumping in your head as you weaved your way past security,
The adrenaline rush while you whip around the city, knowing that the job was done, all with your face remaining unknown.
… Who are you kidding? You loved to admit it.
Well, you never would actually admit it, that would ruin the whole ‘secret identity’ thing you’ve got going on, but you get the idea.
It was exhilarating. And almost comical. Quite comical, actually. How you would swipe these valued works from right under the noses of whatever snob owned the museum. You’d think if they were so valued, they’d invest in better security measures, but here we are.
For around five months now, you’ve been Brooklyn's one and only* Black Cat. At least that’s what they liked to call you. Your actual name was Y/N Hardy, and you weren’t all that special. Born here, lived here, parents died here, and after months of wallowing over that, you ended up picking up this gig. Something in you wanted to make a name for yourself. You craved some sort of recognition, plus rent had to be paid somehow.
Your kleptomaniac tendencies turned out quite useful in the end, a few months ago you managed to turn in enough goods to afford you a spot at Brooklyn Visions. Before they passed, your parents hated that school, but it had always been your dream to go.
Being The Cat was terribly easy. Go in, take shit, go out, sell shit. With the money you’d obviously take care of your needs first, it only being you and your cats in your apartment - food, student fees, cute clothes on the side, you know the works. But the leftovers, you always gave back. One thing you kept from your father was to always remember to give back. “If not, you’re just as bad as those sons of bitches you’re taking from”, he’d always say.
From the older lady down in room 213, who isn’t able to afford medical now that her kids moved out.
To the young queen who makes her pay from gigs at clubs after being kicked out by her parents.
The single dad with three girls, the kid who caught onto drugs way too early, the janitor, all the way down to that dog with one leg missing(as much as you strongly prefer felines), they all needed your help. They all needed Black Cat. They never questioned where the money came from, it’s always been this way. You didn’t live on the pretty side of town, cash is cash and as long as it ends up in their hands, it never mattered the methods taken to get there.
You had no complaints, it made your job easier. You’d show up to them as Y/N, money in hand, they’d call you generous, and that was it. No suspicion towards The Cat whatsoever. Smooth interactions every time, it was terribly easy.
Except for right now.
Right now, standing right inbetween you and your next paycheque( a diamond necklace ), is a boy.
A boy when you’d sworn the gallery would’ve been long closed and empty by the time you started your heist.
A boy sporting a spider-suit.
You’d heard of the city’s new hero for a while now, although you paid no mind to it, as he’s been dealing with more relevant criminals, and you’ve been stealing for this long without any hint of his interest towards your activities. You suppose the rise of news reports on your…endeavors are what may have drawn him here, but why now?
Why him ?
It’s now been a good thirty seconds of silent staring between you and the spider-boy, you were suddenly grateful for your mask, while sweaty, concealed the ever-growing grimace on your face as this awkward silence lengthened.
The boy breathed in.
“So…”
You took the noise as your ‘go’ signal, and ran. Pushing past him in the process, you aimed your whip towards the necklaces’ glass case, and flexed your arm. A sickening crack of glass followed shortly. Good.
“Wh- Hey!”
The Spider called after you, seemingly taken aback by your sudden dash.
“Where,” He leaped off the walls, and into the air, in a matter of seconds.
“do you think,” He released his webbing in your direction(shit, you forgot about that), it wrapping around your form, tripping you up in the process.
“you’re going!” Spider pulled(shit), before you could whip your way towards your exit, you found yourself tied up, feeling almost cocoon-esque, hanging right above the glass case, feet-first from the ceiling, face-to-face with Spider-man. How humiliating.
“Just…admiring the art, is all.” You finally spoke, shakiness in your voice prevalent. You’ve never been caught before.
“Right,” Spider quipped back, stretching the R. “and your version of admiring includes theft?”
“Woah! Okay, well ‘theft’ is a bit intense,” You snickered under the mask. Spiders’ masked eyes narrowed.
“how do you know I’m not planning on returning it? I’d much rather call it ‘borrowing.’”
“Yeah? Well, seems your ‘borrowing’ hobby will have to end, Cat.” Spider let out a small grunt, before flipping over and landing right on top of the glass case below the two of you. Another crack. Perfect.
“Looks like the Cat’s in the bag, huh?” He laughed to himself.
A silent beat passed.
The Spider, now focused on writing some sort of sticker label for when the cops show, had not noticed your insistent wriggling back up on the ceiling. You had hoped that maybe with enough squirming-
The webbing loosened.
With enough squirming maybe you could-
You reached for your whip.
Maybe you could-
You flicked your wrist, aiming to latch onto something, anything. And pulled.
CRASH
Finally.
You dropped down onto your toes, right beside the thing that started it all. That damn diamond necklace.
Glass littered the gallery floors, reflecting light and creating all kinds of shapes you would’ve loved to admire had Spider not been racing after you, eyes trained on the necklace now in your hands.
From an outside perspective, it appeared as if you two were dancing. Punches were tossed, webs slung, sarcastic quips made, whips thrown, all dodged masterfully by the two of you. Neither of you two were letting up. This buzz of adrenaline, the energy pricking at your skin, gave you that feeling you always loved when you left the house as The Black Cat- you felt utterly and wholeheartedly alive.
As you managed to land one kick to Spiders stomach, you felt alive. As you used your grappling hook to fling yourself through your exit, you felt alive-
“What’s wrong Webby? Cat’s got your tongue?” You shouted, from atop your exit window, looking down at the spider-boy, the widest grin you’ve ever sported concealed under your mask.
Miles took note of how your masked eyes squinted, the clear smile in your voice. You were enjoying this.
And you were enjoying this - necklace now hastily stuffed into your satchel, you flipped backwards off the building, removed your mask and screamed.
It was different this time, being caught, the chase, the fight, it gave you this high. A high you’ve never felt before. As you grappled your way through the night, your smile persisted.
By the time you made it back to your apartment, you were winded. You had come down from whatever buzz you were feeling earlier, now ridden with aches and exhaustion.
Suit off, cats fed, hair washed, necklace stored(you debated keeping it for yourself for memories sake or cashing it in as originally planned), you made it to your bed. Adrenaline at a low, you still felt giddy.
You hated to admit it, but that was actually… fun.
Smiling one last time, you decided to roll over and force yourself to sleep, thoughts of the night’s activities bouncing softly in your mind.
