𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓼- 𝓜𝓲𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓞'𝓗𝓪𝓻𝓪

Sunset Over the City

Alright, let's do this one last time.

Your name is (y/n) Parker. You were bitten by a radioactive spider. And for 5 months, you've been the one and only spidergirl.

Since then:

You saved the city.

You broke your foot while practicing a reckless flip with your webs. It looked cool, though.

You rebranded your spidergirl colors to gold and blue.

Your sister got diagnosed with cancer. Stage 3. She's hanging in there.

You finished your freshman year at college and landed an internship at a genetics lab.

You saved the city (again).

Your boyfriend of 3 years broke things off. You listened to a lot of Adele.

You finally nailed that reckless flip.

But through it all, you've been resilient. Being spidergirl hasn't been an easy job, but it's been a rewarding one. You've been able to save everyone so far. That's what this is all about, right? Saving people.

The wind danced at your side. Tonight, after an exhausting day at the lab, you wedged in your airpods and went slinging through the sunset. The glass city windows shone like a million mirrors. Your back muscles stretched and pulled, and your skin dampened with a light, feel-good sweat.

Beneath you, Queens swirled with a kaleidoscope of activity. Feet shuffling, taxis screeching, necks craning... As you rushed low with a whoosh of wind, people released cheers and happy applause. You saluted a little boy who waved at you with hopeful, wide eyes.

"I love you, Queens!" You crowed, grinning as you shot a web high, pointing your toes as you executed a blissful flip.

This is my city. These are my people.

You saw the hope, the admiration, the pride in their upturned faces. You, spidergirl belonged to these streets. They all trusted you. You'd kept everyone safe so far, hadn't you?

Just as your endorphins kicked in, a bubbly, orange vortex ripped a hole in the sky. A spike of fear pierced your chest. You barely had time to hurl out a web before the disorientation swept over you like a cold splash. You were falling, flailing, glitching, as bright colors whizzed by faster than streetcars.

Solid ground slammed into you, and you dizzily lay splattered on the floor. Faces swayed at the edge of your vision, and you shakily leaped to your feet. You couldn't quite make out anything yet, but you balled your fists in front of your face.

"Ooh, we got a feisty one," a raspy, feminine voice chuckled. "Easy there, spidergirl."

"Good, you already know me," you said behind your mask. "This should be quick, then." You couldn't help it, you dealt with the pounding fear of fights by useless chattering. Getting words out to fill the threatening air always gave you a small sense of control. On your toes, you lightly skittered out of reach. "You got a name?"

"Spiderwoman." Your swarming vision focused on her. A red-and-black suit disguised the woman, the design eerily similar to yours. Tight coils piled high on her head, glossy and black as the night sky.

"Spiderwoman, as in... spidergirl, but a woman?" The surprised jumble came out a little stupider than you would've liked. An odd, vibrating energy buzzed between you and Spiderwoman; the staggering, sudden feeling of being perfectly understood. Almost uncomfortably understood, as if she'd swept your darkest corridors out into white sunshine.

"Woah," you breathed, blinking fast. "You're like me?"

Spiderwoman just smiled coyly. "I'm about to blow your mind." She pushed open a towering set of double doors, and a blinding surge of white light exploded into the room. When your eyes adjusted, even you couldn't find the words to ramble.

They were everywhere. Leaning on walls, draped across couches, perched on rafters...

Spiderpeople. You weren't the only one.

I'm simping too hard for Miguel. I need to be stopped, someone stage an intervention please.