Peter Parker Imagines Book

Cruel Irony

Man, I had this idea long before the trailer ever dropped (it's literally been written in my notes since January 😒 except the movie seems to have Doctor Strange in place of Mephisto - but I think we can all agree something is definitely sus about Strange) but now its gonna seem like I'm unoriginal *screams* Obviously, this is still just an idea since the movie isn't out yet, but seriously...I didn't think y'all deserved that kind of angst, okay? I've learned my lesson now: if it's heart crushing, it's Priority #1

(I'm not sure if it's gonna be any good though...I'm a little unsatisfied with it)

Also. I'm putting a heads up here (and I'll do it again at the end of this) if you guys don't mind, please read the next chapter as well. It's not a oneshot, but it is VERY, very important to both me and PPIB. It's only about 600 words, so it won't take long at all!

Okay, I talk too much. Let's get on with the fic! (This takes place hypothetically after NWH btw)

It has been three years, if you didn't count the five he had been gone, since the day Peter Parker had suited up as Spider-Man for the first time.

Three years since he decided that he was going to use his powers for good. To become a hero inspired by his own.

Three years since he decided to become New York City's Friendly Neighborhood crime fighter. Webbing down problems that ranged from intergalactic threats to walking someone home at night.

Three whole years, and never once did Peter Parker ever regret putting on the suit that would forever alter the rest of his life.

He knew the risks that came with becoming a masked vigilante; a hero working outside of the law. His alter ego would be legally wanted by the police, his existence would be sure to make some villains of its own (some dangerous and some not so much), there would be days he would take a beating and have to hide it, and of course for the safety of the people he loved, he would have to lie and keep Spider-Man a secret.

It might have been hard, but all things called for adjustment. That's all it took. A few months - and while Peter wasn't proud of it - it became easier and easier to lie about his extra-curricular activities.

But never in those three years did he ever think he would ever meet someone like Quentin Beck. Mysterio. The man who pretended to be his mentor. His friend. The man who turned out to be his enemy. To be hiding a knife behind his back the whole time and waiting for the right moment to stab it in Peter's, jagged blade all the way down to the hilt.

Beck turned the world on Spider-Man. On Peter Parker. The plan was intricate. Foolproof. Doctored evidence stacked up, folders upon folder placing the blame of Beck's death on him. Peter still didn't know how that video got recorded or how it even wound up in the hands of J. Jonah Jameson and the Daily Bugle, but it was more than enough to effectively label Spider-Man - label Peter Parker - not even seventeen, a murderer.

He believed he survived going through so much, that he could survive anything.

But it turns out that even the amazing Spider-Man has a limit. There's only so much someone could live through before it began to break them.

With great power comes great responsibility...

Be careful what you wish for, Parker...

Peter needed help, so he found it. But not without a price. Never without a price.

And now he was starting to wonder what had really been worth it. Out of the butterfly effect of events that had dominoed, beginning from the moment Peter began to stitch together his first suit, what could he have saved if he had chosen differently? Who could he still have?