Hey there.

How was your day? Mine was pretty average.

Weathering with you, however, is amazing.

Seriously, watch it if you haven't yet. It's got some really good visuals, probably some of the best I've seen. The characters are amazing; Hodaka, Hina, and most of all, my favorite, Mr. Suga. The guy's a blast lol.

Anyways, yes.

This is a Self-Insert story.

From what I understood according to a few friends of mine, Self-Insert stories are bad and should have never happened in the first place. A bit of a stretch, right? So that's why I'm here to...

Probably solidify their thoughts on Self-Insert stories lol. So I apologize in advance if this is bad.

To start, this is a collaboration with a friend over at Wattpad who goes by the name of Retr0Specs, who once went by the same name as mine, but has since changed it in order to avoid confusion. He does these kinds of stories. So I thought it would be a bit fun to try my hand out on making these stories and wrote this on a whim. Check out his account since I post chapters a bit earlier than here.

Maybe it's because Weathering With You was really good, maybe because I'm still sad Spidey's leaving the MCU. But those things combined made this so... take it as it is.

For the very least, I hope you guys give this a try.

Enjoy, Chapter 1 of,

TO BE A HERO


A Hero.

What is a hero?

A hero is someone who leads by example, courageous sacrificing people, setting expectations and hopes for all of us. Everybody loves a hero, people line up for 'em, cheer for them, scream their names, and years later tell how they stood in the rain for hours just to get a glimpse of the one who told them to... hold on a second longer.

A hero is honest, gives the people strength, makes them noble. And finally gets us to die with pride. Even though sometimes we have to be steady and give up the thing we want most, even our dreams. A hero knows the responsibility and weight of what it comes to being the savior of those weaker than them, the hopes and inspiration of people young and old.

So who would have thought that some kid from Shinjuku would have what it takes to be a hero?

To answer your question... no, he doesn't.

Fine, let's take backtrack from the beginning...


Cardboard boxes were scrawled on in black broad felt-tip marker, bare walls devoid of the usual smiling framed faces or other pictures one would see at a normal home, clean and scrubbed wooden floors that barred no furniture spread, empty. White parcel labels stuck on black bags of clothes, as each thing is packed. A sliding glass window lead to the backyard that had neat, trimmed grass with no rebellious green poking from the ground. The rooms were all completely empty, ready to be lived in once more.

Within the doorframe, he stood. His black locks falling past his eyes and on his nose. The white polo and black sweater combo fit him nicely as his shoes squeaked against the floor, his youthful face set into a sour frown as he sighed despondently.

"(Y/N)!" From the outside, a woman who bore familiar features to him called out. "Make sure you pack all your things and get a room already!" The woman-her mother reminded him. "Your father and I need to get the supplies he took from his and Doctor Conner's labratory from the moving van!"

"Got it, Mom!" (Y/N) affirmed, rolling his eyes and grabbed the pack of clothes and tightened his grip on his bag and then proceeded to make his way to the upperlevel of their new home.

Moving houses was one thing, he thought. But moving countries, seriously? And why Japan of all places? America was perfectly fine! New York was fine!

But nope, now he's stuck here in Tokyo.

'Could've at least told me a week in advance...' (Y/N) grumbled as he opened the knob of the room in the corner, and entered his new living space.

The old owners were at least kind enough to give a fairly decent sized bed, no sheets or blankets, a washstand, a bureau-without any mirror-and a small table. The wall was completely white and blank, plain, average.

(Y/N) preferred it that way.

Haphazardly dropping his stuff on the floor, the contents of clothing spilled out but he ignored it as he sat down on the bed. It squeaked as the springs groaned under the pressure. Shuffling through his pocket, he turned on his phone and sighed.

He missed New York.

Sure, the place was overrun by rats, the trains always seemed to be crowded all the time, and the people don't even bother to pick up after themselves, but it was home, the entirety of his life and childhood was spent in the Big Apple.

Until now.

Everyone he knew was back there. His old neighbors, his friends, his classmates, sweet old May was back in Queens. The widowed woman was always nice and kind to him, alongside with her nephew and his wife Miss Watson-well, Missus Parker now, and he dearly missed them. Hell, he was even starting to miss Old Man Stan, the guy knew what kind of comic books he liked.

"You seem down, son."

From the doorway, his father looked at him in concern. His black glasses on his face and the white lab jacket he always seemed to wear folded around his arm. The bags under his eyes and the unusual wrinkled polo made (Y/N) guilty, being so troubled with himself that he forgot his mom and dad were also on the same boat.

Oliver (L/N) sighed, ruffling his hair in thought. Approaching (Y/N), the man sat down next to him, the mattress squeaking protest as he put a comforting hand on his son's shoulder.

Silence spread through the room.

After a few moments, (Y/N) spoke up.

"Did... did we really have to move?"

Oliver exhaled through his nose. "Unfortunately, yes." He said, and watched as (Y/N)'s shoulder slumped. "I honestly would have said no, but... with everyone back at New York, they needed me here to help and it's my responsibility to help and monitor this branch's research since Curt was already handling things back." The father explained, but even Oliver himself knew that it didn't help the situation.

"I know it's been hard, (Y/N)." Oliver said. "You're growing into a young man, but you need to understand that this has to be done," (Y/N) looked away from his father's gaze. "Sometimes, my... our obligations and duties are more important than what we want to do, as much as I hate to admit it." Oliver muttered.

(Y/N) stayed silent.

With a defeated sigh, his father stood up and patted his child on the shoulder. "Just... think of all of this as a fresh start."

Before he left, the man turned to look at the teen.

"Son, things change, be it for the good or bad; it's unavoidable. And... what I'm trying to say is it's our responsibility, our duty to be strong and do what's we think is right... even if it means that we have to do what's needed to be done in order to stay true to ourselves." Oliver advised.

A soft click, and the door was shut, leaving (Y/N) to his thoughts.

Change.

I didn't like change.

Change was unpredictable in every turn. One's life could be turned for the best or for the worst on a whim. It could either bring good or bad to one by chance of luck. And I resented that with every fiber of my being... Yet, despite that, I knew that it was inevitable. So unavoidable and impending that I can never escape it no matter how much I want to, or how much I try.

Didn't mean I had to like it, though.

Shaking his head, he stood up and made his way through the door and down the stairs.

"And where do you think you're going?" His mother asked him with a raised brow from the kitchen.

"Exploring! Be back in a bit!" (Y/N) replied with a cheeky smile as he exited their new house with a sigh.

'Alright, Tokyo. Let's see what you have to offer...'

Tokyo was crowded.

Like, really crowded.

The high arching skyscrapers and tall buildings stood spread around city. The trains were far faster than the ones in New York but the overall feel and atmosphere that the bustling people and cars reminded him of New York.

Except here in this city, he didn't know a damn thing about Tokyo.

The streets and paths were both familiar and unfamiliar to him. Nevertheless, he sucked it up, grew a pair, and made his way through the city.

Despite his familiarity with the Urban Jungle, Tokyo was still different from New York and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel like some sort of lost child as he wandered aimlessly around Shinjuku. He couldn't tell how many times he had bumped against the crowd or went to a dead end, it was both confusing and embarrassing.

God, I felt like a runaway.

Thankfully by the first week (Y/N) had managed to memorize and familiarize himself with the routes and streets surrounding his house.

By the third, they all had finished moving in and purchasing any needed furniture to complete their new home.

Then by the fifth, his father had officially been moved to his company's Tokyo branch by the choice of the CEO.

Which was where he and his father were currently at.

As soon as they exited the car, (Y/N) was immdiately taken in, awe and wonder filling him as he stared at the tall and big building in front of him. He was actually in an advance science center, home of technology so advanced, they were not seen anywhere else.

While not as studious as his mother or prodigal like his father, (Y/N) had taken a liking to the subject of science. As expected since he was raised in a family whose father was one. Though often times the teen was either too busy or lazy to put more effort in learning more.

His father chuckled behind him as he laid a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Welcome to Tokyo's Science Center. This is where I, and other passionate people make great discoveries- " Oliver began.

"Which we work on to improve how people live their lives." (Y/N) finished with a roll of the eyes. "You said the same thing back at New York, Dad." He told him as his father chuckled, scratching his chin.

"Did I?" Oliver shook his head. "I'm not that predictable, right?"

(Y/N) gave him a flat stare.

With an awkward laugh, his father led him to the door.

"How about I show you around?"

As expected from such a high ranking tech company such as the one his father worked in, the facilities and rooms were all state-of-the-art and up to date with the world's latest technology.

White walls and sleek equipment was organized orderly and efficiently. Glass windows displayed various researchers and their respective works to the outside.

(Y/N) whistled in appreciation as he followed his father through the building and one of the rooms.

"And this is where I work." His father grinned as the sliding door opened to give them entrance.

Larger than the other rooms he had seen, the work stations were spread around the space. Screens filled with visuals of various DNA of many animals and the like. One table in particular, had a glass tank that had spiders crawling along the walls.

"Currently, our lab is studying a new experiment." His father spoke as they entered. "One involving a rather tricky subject which is-"

"Cross-Species Genetics, right?" (Y/N) interrupted once more, causing his father stare at him in surprise. Before giving (Y/N) a raised eyebrow.

Yes... how did you know that?" His father asked.

"Um... internet?" His son answered. "The web knows all, Dad. And you kinda leave your journal on the table every single night so..."

"And you understood it?"

"Kinda?" (Y/N) shrugged. "Mister Connors' work was on Cross-Species genetics just like you. It's like, um, being able to transfer animal or of any species' DNA into another lifeform." He said, scratching his head. "It's kinda like the old chimera story, right?"

"Well... you know the gist of it at least." His father chuckled. "As of now, we're looking to discover the secrets hidden in the animal kingdom, and reproduce certain genetic attributes."

Leading his son to a work station which had a display of a particular looking skeleton of a fish.

"Take for example, the zebrafish." He gestured to it. "Say, a man get's Parkinsons. That disease kills the brain cells that produce dopamine slowly. Tragic fate, isn't it?"

His father gave a grimace, until he gained a hopeful twinkle in his eye. "But imagine the possibilities if we are able to take the zebrafish's regenerative capabilities, if we are able to somehow give that to the man..."

"... then he could naturally cure himself with said fish's regenerative cells." (Y/N) finished, his father nodded.

"It's our goal for this project, Curt and I worked a long time to take it where it is." The man said, fondly looking at his research displayed around the lab. "And now with a full team dedicated to work with me here in Tokyo, we could finally make that breakthrough in science!"

"Mister (L/N)?" A woman in a lab-coat asked as she approached them, giving the father and son duo a polite smile. "Mister Osborne wants to see you at his office."

"Norman's here?" Oliver muttered in confusion before shaking his head. "I see, I'll be right there, thank you." With a nod, the woman left. Oliver turned to his son.

"Well, I was just bringing you here to help you get familiarized with what we do here, but it seems Mister Osborne has other plans." His father sighed. "Feel free to roam this place and ask around, but don't disturb anyone, or anything." He gave his son a critical eye as (Y/N) rolled his eyes.

"I'm not some delinquent, Dad." (Y/N) assured offhandedly only for Oliver to chuckle.

"What about the time you got in a fight in school?"

(Y/N) flushed in embarrassment.

"...'S not like I'm gonna start one here..." The teen mumbled sourly as his mind recalled the memory. And even now he regretted it. Especially since he wasn't particularly on the physical side of the spectrum.

With his father leaving, (Y/N) stood there in the middle of the room awkwardly.

'Might as well just walk around... I guess.'

So what's should a teenager do in highly sophisticated technological science center with nothing to do? Sit down, grab a snack and just wait for their dad to come back, right?

(Y/N) looked around in confusion and slight nervousness as he stood in front of a door.

Well... I didn't get the memo.

The hallway was completely empty, sans for him, the walls that were once white and sleek was not black and uninviting as always. The door in front of him having a very bold 'RESTRICTED AREA' right on the side with a scanner and password lock for security.

"Yeah, this is definitely not the way to the bathroom..." With a heel turn, (Y/N) barely managed to take one step when he heard voices coming from within the door.

With speed he, himself didn't know about, he hurriedly ran and rounded a corner just in time as the door hissed open as workers in hazmat suits came out of the room in a hurry, turning and heading the other direction he had went.

A relieved sigh escaped him, he leaned against the wall as the footsteps grew more distant. 'Idiot.' (Y/N)berated himself within his mind as his hand lightly smacked his face. 'You're an idiot! Couldn't have just asked for directions now, can we?'

Taking one last look ahead of him and deeming it safe, (Y/N) stood and up and began to-

"Ah!"

With a small hiss of pain, (Y/N) held his right hand up.

A spider.

A freaky looking spider.

Small bouts of pain began coursing through his body as he gritted his teeth. Swiping with his other hand, he swatted the spider away and sent it flying. He didn't care where, he just hoped it died. Maybe he could just slip away and hide in the lobby room or someth-

A blare of red lights flashed from walls, and (Y/N) groaned in discomfort. Forget hiding, he needed to find his dad.

Standing up shakily, he ran towards the exit of the corridor, nearly tripping in the process as the pain from the bite started to grow and increasingly became more difficult to focus.

He pushed past the crowds as some gave him looks at his odd behavior. Though he didn't much care for that right now, the pain in his arm was starting to hurt more and more. Sweat dripped from his forehead and he idly brushed it off with the sleeve of his sweater. He was shaking now and felt sick more than ever.

It didn't help that almost every noise and sound he heard rang and echoed in his ears loudly. The chattering of those distant to him were heard perfectly, the slight buzz of machinery within the room next to him was clear as day and he even heard the swinging of doors from across the area.

(Y/N) held his head in pain. His sense were overwhelming him, and he felt nauseated to the point where he could barely stand up.

Around him the people whispered.

"Is he okay?"

"What's wrong with him?"

More and more the crowd whispered and gossiped as (Y/N) gritted his teeth in pain.

'Shutupjustshutupandletmefocus-!'

A hand landed on his shoulder.

"Kid." The voice of the security guard called out in concern. "You alright?"

(Y/N) blinked and he nodded his head almost drunkenly.

"Y-Yeah, I'm... alrighi-"

His eyes rolled back into his head and he felt his body sway forward.

The last thing he heard were gasps of the crowd before he passed out.


And that's how it started.

I was out for three weeks. Three weeks! Can you believe that? Just because of a bite from one measly spider?

... At least, I thought it was a normal spider.

Then it started happening.

I got out of the hospital pretty quickly after a bit of a check-up. My mother fussed over me and my father kept on seeing if anything happened to me.

He was right. Unfortunately.

I started changing.

You know what I'm talking about, don't you?

My body felt heavier, healthier even. My senses were dialed up to eleven. I could see things that were hard to look at, even by just glancing at it, I could lift things that I found heavy in the past. Hell, I even ran faster started the wall crawling. The sixth sense, the strength, speed... all of these changes overwhelmed me, it startled me...

It scared me.

My father's words rang in my head.

"It's our responsibility, our duty to be strong and do what's we think is right."

My dad had this philosophy of his.

"A duty. That if you had the ability to help people, to do good things for the world, then you had a moral obligation to do those those things! To do what's right... that's what's at stake...

"Not choice, (Y/N)...

"Responsibility."

Responsibility.

My responsibility.

While I like a fair share of comics, I never really got to indulge in that hobby, except for a few times which was a rarity. But in the time spent reading what little I could of these superhereoes, I knew what I had to do... what I'm obligated to do now that I had these...

Not gifts. I'm not calling them gifts. If anything they're a curse, a lesson on what I have to do, what I have to sacrifice to do what I'm obligated to do.

To do the right thing.

To do the responsible thing.

I hated it.

Every second of it.

All of these things that spider had dumped into me was a constant reminder that I can never live a normal life. That I can never live the life I want.

I never wanted this, any of this.

Why couldn't that spider bite someone else more reliable, more capable and suitable than some run-of-the-mill teenager? Why not some big-shot billionaire with time on their hands instead of him?

Why me?


Two months.

It had been two months since the incident.

And in those two months (Y/N) had been at a loss on what to do with his newfound abilities.

He didn't want this. He just wanted a normal life, live as an average joe, work at an acceptable job and make ends make.

He never wanted to be a hero.

He wasn't fit to be a hero.

But throughout that span of time, his morality, the words and lesson his father had taught him since he was a child ate up at him, enticing him.

Guiltily reminding him what he had do to.

So he decided.

He would try.

This was his responsibility, no matter how much he hated it.

Within those two months he had tested his powers.

Which was why he had picked the junkyard. It was a perfect place to test his limits. It was abandoned, empty and no one ever dared go there.

As expected, he was faster, stronger, and more durable. All upped to twenty. His speed was incredible, he had ran at least twenty miles in under three minutes one time and was even able to balance himself on a pole with only a finger.

He even developed a some sort of signal in his mind. Doing some studying on human psychology and the brain, he found out it was like a sixth sense, like an "Early Warning" sign in his brain that let him know there was trouble heading his way before it happened.

It was like a primal instinct.

He was basically superhuman. He was more than the average joe now.

And it only made his situation more appalling.

Opening his wardrobe doors, his hands scurried past the articles of clothing occupying the lowermost shelf hastily, throwing his old shirts and jeans onto the floor carelessly.

His eyes gleamed when his hands felt a solid object and proceeded to pull it out of the shadows.

He smiled fondly at his old water shooters his dad had made him years ago. The two wrist bracers was too small for his arms and the years had not been kind to it.

With scuffed painting, missing pieces such as the containers, and triggers that used to fit on the center of his palms, it was broken.

To others, it was a piece of junk.

To him, it was like reuniting with an old friend.

Setting it aside, (Y/N) stood up, and fished out the old chemistry set from within the basement, his father's welding tools, and placed it all on his desk.

It was time to get to work.

It took some time. But after weeks of tinkering, many, many short circuiting and remodling, I managed to re-engineer my old bracers and create and attach a high pressured system that manages to shoot a line of webbing.

I took a page out of Oscorp and created artifical silk made out of shear-thinning liquid, that when in contact with the air, the long-chain polymer knits and forms an extremely tough, flexible fiber with extraordinary adhesive properties.

Pretty impressive, right?

I hope so.

The next thing to do was make a costume to hide my identity.

And no, I'm not gonna wear spandex. So I started small and modernish. And after many papers and ideas, I picked out the initial design before I got better material. And after many money spent and a few hours of knitting, I came up with something.

Taking a look for himself in the mirror, from the bottom up, (Y/N) wore simple red and black sneakers that held and stuck firmly to his person with loose webbing. He wore a blue tracksuit that hugged his figure but was still loose and baggy enough for him.

A red belt outfitted with pouches that held spare web fluid clasped around his waist. Half of his upper body and forearms were spray painted red with black lines representing webs wrapping around the red areas. Right in the middle of his chest displayed a black spider, and a larger red spider on the back.

Wanting to keep his identity a secret, he had opted to wear a simple red mask with the same web motif, and added detachable goggles.

"Oh, I look ridiculous..." (Y/N) muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. He hoped the mask wouldn't flatten his hair to the point it looked like something from the Beetles, he liked his hair free, thank you very much.

With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror and grabbed his a black jacket and brought it over his tracksuit, and zipped it up to his neck, then shoved his mask into his jacket pocket.

He slowly opened his door and peeked outside of his room.

"Mom?!" He called out. "Dad?"

Silence.

Exiting his bedroom, he flattened his spray-painted tracksuit and made sure his wrist-shooters-web-shooters!-didn't slip off accidentally. Turning it over, he grabbed the cartridges on his desk and slipped them on his bracers, a soft click indicating it had been attached.

He had tried this before over the course of the week, but each time he was stopped. Either by his parents, the weather, or by luck. It was his fifth attempt in trying to use his web-shooters.

"Alright... let's do this."

The crowds bustled around Tokyo, (Y/N) shoved his hands in his pockets and put the hood down as he navigated the streets by intersection and aromas. His memory of where to go and which route to take. He moved along in the thick crowd. Beneficially, the bite had gave him a few inches of height, letting him see bright shop signs, and buildings more easily than he had done in the past.

He pushed past and jostled against people more than he had liked. The fragrance and aroma of the city was familiar to him, only now he could smell nearly everything around him. Fumes from belching vehicles underpinned everything, but punching right out of it would be the spicy offerings of the street vendors, coming sharply into focus like a camera zoom and then ebbing away again; only to be replaced by the next vendor and the next.

His ears picked up on conversations from the people walking alongside of him. By the distance, he could even hear the swinging of the door and each individual footsteps of every men and women in his vicinity, but he had gotten used to it.

Surprisingly, the train was early, far more earlier than expected. And now he had seen up-close the sleek, white advanced transportation. Quickly, he stepped in, and raucous, metallic shriek echoed around him as the sleek, metal carriage, shot forward and into the next platform. Metal-on-metal grinded against each other as he held on to the pole with minimal effort, knowing how much damage he could do if he accidentally gripped it a bit too hard.

Shortly after, the doors opened up with a slight hiss and he stepped out, rushing as he did and through the people quickly as the sky had become a dark grey hours earlier. The rain had fallen steadily without let up since before he exited the train. He idly glanced tree leaves, the summer flowers and lilies droop under the weight of the droplets as a heavy downpour hit the city.

He shivered slightly. Enhanced abilities or not, the chill still affected him and he tried to remedy that as he brought his arms closer to his body for warmth while the people around him proceeded to get our their umbrellas or standby a shade. The rain bore down mercilessly upon the rest of the city, pounding on the rooftops and turning the streets of Shinjuku into a warren of slick stones and muddy waters.

Walking hastily, he pushed forward, the rain hitting his jacket and staining his hood. With nothing to shield him from the pouring, he had opted to speed up his pace and jogged in the rain, the small pellets of water spitting on his arms as the remainder of the drops quench the scattered puddles decorating the asphalt. Through one of the pools of rainwater, the familiar flash of police sirens are brought to my attention. He manage to lift his head up just a bit and stared at the white and black car zooming past him in a hurry.

(Y/N) shook his head.

'Focus.'


He swung open the door to the roof-top.

The coldness of the slate tile and it's dampness seeped through his jacket and into his tracksuit. In this poor light the roof-tops spread in every direction like great grey serpents with rectangular scales. The varying sizes of the buildings ruined the illusion, but in this light they were just as monochromatic as everything else, the slate, the swirling smog, the streets that were never deserted, the unfriendly sky with it's dense cloud robbing him of the sunrise. From here he could see what a maze Tokyo actually was, every house three stories and each joined to the next. The streets curved as if laid down on a whim a few centuries ago before anyone had conceived of a grid pattern idea.

He made a quick turn and headed to the edge of the building, sticking one hand to the wall, then the other, then his legs, before he fully pushed against the windows of the business building.

(Y/N) sucked a deep breath as he slipped on the mask, it was a good, if not a bit tight fit, the goggles were secured around his face, and with his enhanced senses, seeing was not a problem. Up here he was the king of the world, untouchable. But he didn't feel untouchable, he felt vulnerable, as if a slight sway of wind would knock him over and send him plummeting to the ground. Even with his new powers he still hadn't gotten over his fear of heights. Above here, the people below looked like ants and the cars merely flashes of light.

Doubt seeped into him.

Once again fear had managed to find him at his most critical, it always did. It spoke to him in its cackling voice. It told his legs to go weak, his stomach to lurch and his heart to ache. Why risk everything and his life just to save people he didn't know? Strangers? Why show himself to the public as some sort of hero flying through the air, when in reality, he wasn't?

Yes. That was what he was.

He was no hero.

So why do all this?

"To do what's right... that's what's at stake... Not choice, (Y/N)..."

"Responsibility." He exhaled through his nose. Repeating the word over and over again like a mantra.

He huddled up his knees pushing against his chest.

Then he let go.

The small areas his hand held contact with broke easily, the glass shards falling with him as he unexpectedly somersaulted through the air.

Then he began to fall.

Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence. Suspended in the air, he closed his and slowed his breathing, he turned to face the dark sky above and pushed the triggers on his shooter. Immediately, the artificial silk shot out like a bullet, and he watched with intensity and worry as the line of webbing reached out to the building.

A tug, and he widened his eyes.

And then (Y/N) pulled.

Then he flew.

Lightning struck.

The weather took another turn for the worse as the rain increased in volume and intensity.

But he didn't care.

Energy had flooded his system, pumping his blood that coursed through his veins with vigor. He briefly thought for a moment that his heart would explode as his eyes widened in fear as he swung through the city.

He screamed in fear and excitement as he pushed the triggers once more and took a different direction.

He swooped down, down towards the streets rapidly, and then snapped upward in an arc, before he fired another line of web midswing, caught another building and continued his journey. Slowly, he had began to ease in to it, never slowing, moving with an ease and defiance of gravity that would have turned most-experienced acrobats green.

He leapt onto a nearby flagpole, swinging around it by using it as an anchor to build up speed, then released, his momentum carrying him onto the rooftop of the next building. Wasting no time, he vaulted over the pipelines and ran straight to the edge and fired another webline.

His was heart pumping, head spinning, lungs bursting and body screaming for more... Every muscle craves relaxation as blood courses miles of veins and a pulse sounds in his ears... ba-boom, ba-boom. It's a glimpse of heaven for a few seconds. He loved it.

Wait.

What do you call this again?

Oh yeah, adrenaline.

Boldness took over him, he flipped and jumped, wall running on panes of glasses, laughing silently at the awe-struck look on people inside the office and onlookers faces as he leaped and shot another web, rounding a corner, taking in the usual sights and sounds of the city while he swung once more.

He gave a shout of joy as he shot one more webbing towards a skyscraper, pulling himself quickly, he ran vertically up the walls of the tall building.

Finally, he leaped as he neared the final floor of the tower, and landed on one of the gargoyles that were perched on each corner.

(Y/N) panted, catching his breath as the adrenaline worn off. He grabbed the hem of his mask and pulled it off. His hair, sweaty and moist as the rain pelted down on his exposed face, but it was the least of his worries as he gave out a laugh, one of irony.

How ironic.

All this time, he doubted himself, scared his courage away, and convinced himself that he couldn't do it. Beat it over his head that this was just part of change and an unlucky turn of events that he had no control over.

He didn't believe in destiny.

But now, he realized.

The adrenaline he felt, the frenzy, the rapid beating of his heart. His grace, if one could call it that, and his quick grasping of swinging through the air.

This was his destiny.

Now matter how much he tried to run away from it for the past few months, how much he went back and forth with himself over this dilemma, this was how it was going to be for the rest of his life.

"A fresh start..." He recalled his father's words.

A new chapter in his life.

'Then so be it.'

The rain poured harder than before.

He would face his destiny, no matter how much he hated it.

He would be the hero.

Even if he still believed he wasn't one.


I hope this was decent enough to fit with other good Self-Inserts.

A warning now, this story will be mainly romance, action is still a part of it, but will be merely treated as a side-thing. So don't expect much.

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Reviews are always appreciated.

Ciao.