This is an AU of a Spiderman fic I drafted where Peter has been mentoring Miles since the end of the game and They are about to head out on patrol. If I post that fic, you might see a bit of a similarity in the first chapter... In this a meteor had landed on earth and as Spider-man investigates, the symbiote attaches to him without his knowledge.

The twist?

It's not Venom, and it isn't violence inclined like it brethren (as it turns out, the Klyntar race is actually peaceful). Also it takes on the appearance of the Spider-man 2099 White Armor Suit (my personal favorite suit). Also Peter HAS NOT come across the Klyntar before so he hasn't had any experience with Venom or Carnage. Plus he can choose his suit and switch between them with the same level of control as he does in the game Spider-Man: Web of Shadows.

I may or may not not continue this, depending on reviews and personal drive. Not sure exactly how serious I am about this fic.

Maybe...

-Y.A.R.N.

P.S. All credit to respective owners and thank you wiki!

Peter crouched next to the crater that had formed from the small asteroid that had landed in the park. He carefully made sure that he didn't touch the smoking stone as he examined the gouge. He had seen the cloud of dust as he was swinging home from patrol and had hurried over to make sure that no one had gotten hit or was dying. Thankfully, no one had been near enough to take any damage and the worst anyone got was probably a coat of dust that could easily be showered off.

"I should probably call Yuri..." Spider-man mused as he straightened and his earpiece began to dial the cop.

No one noticed a squirming white, black, and red ooze wriggle out of a crack in the rock formation and wriggle onto the web-slinger's foot right before he swung off into his apartment.

A tired Peter Parker sighed as he swung into his apartment and pulled off his mask. Patrol had been a bit more of a pain but much more rewarding with the last of Sable's international forces finally being beaten before clearing out of the city (much to the delight of New York). As a bonus, the people had been much kinder with MJ's and Robbie's work in the papers. Ol' Jolly Jonah was doing his best to besmirch him as per the usual, but frankly his good deeds were pushing people's opinion of him on the up and up. With a few petty muggings and two B&E's thwarted he decided to call it a night and left for his apartment.

He stripped off his suit and threw it in the lock box he had created and coded in the lab - before it was shut for good - to keep his suits, whatever gadgets, and tools in. Black Cat's suit for him had been been placed there and he figured as much as he was a bit miffed by being played by her, having the suit was better than getting nothing out of being played. Despite the pain of having to make it and much as he wanted to throw the Anti-Ock suit away, the armored suit would probably come in handy should he fight something a bit too much out of his weight class. It was a good back up should else fail and his regular suit just wasn't cutting it. Despite the fact that the faceplate was still damaged, parts of the armor had been torn off by grappling with Doc Ock, and there was still a gap from where Octavius' tentacle had punched a hole in him - he just didn't have the time and tools to fix it or upgrade it for that matter since the lab was shuttered - it was better to have it than want for it, he could always put it on over his 'advanced' suit for the extra layer of protection.

The Avengers hadn't been pleased when they finally caught wind of all the mayhem that had been taking place in New York while they were on the west coast, and - though they probably wouldn't have never admitted it - were ashamed that Spider-man and the people of New York had to deal with it all on their own. Which led to his final and newest addition to his spider suit collection set was one Tony Stark had recently created for him using what were apparently nano-machines that were usually stored inside metal wrist bracers of sorts that the iron avenger had made for Peter. It was much more convenient than wearing a suit under his clothes and a lot more durable than his suit; it even had four robotic arms that could definitely help him with mobility and fighting. He had checked over all the suit's mechanics and made sure that there were no "gotcha's" that Tony may have implemented on the suit. After making sure he cleared it of any overrides and monitoring hidden in the suit and adding his own upgrades, Peter had been getting used to moving around with it and using the extra arms; he hadn't taken it for a full-out live-fire test yet but he was planning to on his next patrol. He clipped the wrist bracers to his arms in preparation for tomorrow and sighed.

He wished he had gotten the suit before his clash with Doc Ock as it probably would have made things a hell of a lot easier to manage. Heck, he wished Tony had given him this before the whole Devil's Breath fiasco in the first place.

He wished he could say life was all fantastic, but despite all of the good, he still hurt from the endgame of the events that happened all those months ago. Octavius was getting help - hopefully - while still incarcerated in the Raft alongside the other members of the Sinister Six that had been apprehended. But even now, Peter had lost no little amount of sleep wondering and wishing he could have done something - anything to help his idol and former mentor. A flare of anger rose up when he realized that the man he admired had been designing and improving the tech his enemies used to beat him down. Even worse, he had know Peter was the one who had been Spider-man and he still created better tech for the villains to use. May's absence was a visceral and throbbing ache that would never leave and he would still wake up with his heart squeezing and eyes stinging in the middle of the night from his mind replaying his last moments with her. He had so much he had wanted to say, so much that had been left unsaid that he had no idea how he could deal with it. His only relief was the fact that she knew he was Spider-man and he didn't have that secret left weighing on him and that she was so proud of him.

He was bitter about most of what had transpired in the events of the incident: Sable agents trying to kill him, a mass breakout letting out so many he had put away, the untold number of people who hadn't been able to get a cure and died - a sharp and painful wedge of grief at the memory of weighing Aunt May against all the sick in the city stabbed him again - and not even any nearby superheroes deigned to even try to help?

A larger part of him was disappointed.

What made him a bit more hopeful was the newest and so far most interesting thing on Peter's plate: a new Spider-man in the making.

Miles was actually someone he was very glad to have gotten to know, even before him getting spider-powers. Miles was smart, a good kid with a good head on his shoulders, and knew just how dangerous being a hero was. Not just that, but he had gotten his abilities through the same stroke of chance that Peter had. That was not mentioning the fact that Peter knew how easily he could relate to Miles. The death of his father, a loving mother now raising him alone, suddenly finding himself with abilities to help people and no idea how to take all of the changes in that were happening all at once.

In Miles he saw himself when he first became Spiderman.

"Interesting..." A voice slithered in his head, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Peter stilled and spun, eyes frantic as he scanned his new apartment, "Who said that?!"

There was no one in the room and Peter's spider-sense wasn't blaring in alarm at any incoming threat.

"Here, at your feet." The voice replied.

Peter gaze snapped down to see a squirming mass of... something crawling up his legs, firmly latching to his skin. Panicking, he grabbed of fistful of it to pull at it, only for his hands to get stuck and the living liquid ooze to begin climbing up his hand to his shoulders. He fell onto his bed, struggling to move as the thing crawling over his entire body. He would've have cried out for help, but the slime wrapped around his face, coving his mouth and muffling his screams. Peter squeezed his eyes shut expected pain, maybe even suffocating and passing out, but instead, he felt... normal. He sat up and noticed that he was actually dressed in normal clothing rather than the boxers he had just stripped down to.

"What the hell..." Peter gasped, patting at himself.

"Peter Parker?" The voice said.

"Who... What are you?!" He yelped terrified of what had just happened.

"I am a Klyntar." The voice replied.

"A what?"

"Perhaps I should give a bit of history before you panic..." The voice mused.

"There are many stories about us across the galaxy. Some true, some false... some concocted by renegade members of our own species. And because of this we are known by many names... we prefer to be called the Klyntar. Allow us to explain ourselves using familiar perspectives and the vernacular of your species... as you well know our species is that of the Symbian. We need a host relationship to an intelligent organism so we can reach out across our galaxy and help those who cannot help themselves. We are the mind and soul of the warrior, but need a form to act out what we know to be the true ways of a noble and virtuous galaxy. Like yourselves, we are dedicated to making a great society. But ours is not an exact way. We know of no society whose is. Our organisms need a perfect symbiosis to reach the ultimate goal. That means our host body has to be a perfect blend of moral and physical ideal. With the right host we have the ability to create the ultimate noble warrior. And because of the delicated balance needed, there are very few members of very few species that can rise to the occasion of what we have to offer. Without the perfect situation, the results could be and are often somewhat... monstrous. It is because of this that there are parts of this galaxy where our reputation is hardly to be desired. If the symbiote is not perfect it can be corrupted and then take on a life of its own. It separates from the collective. If the host body suffers from cultural malignancy or chemical imbalance the symbiote can be corrupted and that corruption can spread even faster and more potently. And like any cancer it spreads so rapidly and does such damage. Even after the original symbiosis is over. And it is a very large universe and corrupt pieces of us break away. Without connection to us, the home world, a damaged Klyntar can spin out of control. A few of us have. It attaches to hosts and build inferior symbiote relationships and cause such damage and horror. Even going so far as spreading lies and half-truths of our intentions. All to feed its corrupted desires. This is our shame. But the universe always finds a way. And even broken symbiosis can bring out true heroism."

Peter had listened attentively, eyes closed and nodding at some parts, "So basically... you are a symbiotic organism that can - in a way - improve on the abilities of any host you inhabit? And there are others out there in the universe that are like you, some bad, and some good?"

"A simplified version," The voice hummed thoughtfully, "But it will serve as an accurate description for my race. I do hope you are not averse to my arrival, I had little time to escape the rock I had been trapped on and the high levels of heat had weakened me considerably... I had no choice but to latch onto the nearest host available in the hopes to survive."

Peter was suspicious, he hadn't missed the whole renegade members and wasn't about ready to let this symbiote have the benefit of the doubt.

After everything, he had found it hard to judge people well on first impressions, and considering the fact the symbiote crawled all over him without explanation wasn't putting it in a good light.

"How do I know I can trust you?!" He demanded, "For all I know you could be a renegade, and this whole collective thing sounds a bit more Big Brother than I am okay with!"

The symbiote was silent for a moment, weighing its options, "Our species had a vulnerability to heat and high-frequency noises, should you ever feel the need to destroy me, those will harm me. As for the collective, the heat of entering this planet's atmosphere as well as the impact was strong enough that I was more or less dying. Had you not been so close, I would have died very soon after my arrival, my connection is... silent. I cannot seem to reach the hive mind."

It could tell from the brief time it had spend shifting through Peter's head that he was a noble warrior, a warrior who - despite what it cost him - would do the right thing, never stop fighting, never give up. He had suffered a loss that destroyed his arrogance and made him realize that he should use his powers to save others, not enrich himself. A man who was willing to sacrifice himself if it mean he could save others.

'With great power, comes great responsibility...' A memory stood out to the alien.

This was the ideal host.

Peter blinked, "Am I supposed to just take that at face value? You just admitted you could spiral out of control!"

There was a equivalent of a annoyed sigh as the symbiote slithered into a tendril and hung off Peter's hand, "If you are so doubtful, you are welcome to test it on me. I understand that you are apprehensive, I will not begrudge you that. I would react much as you are if we had switched places. I simply ask you give me a chance to prove myself."

Peter went to his desk and retrieved on of the tools he had pilfered from Octavius Industries, a lighter level blow torch that was meant to help with minute repairs to thin layers of metal welding. He ignited the torch and pressed the symbiote close.

It screamed and Peter winced at the agony being sent along the link and he quickly drew the torch away, watching as the symbiote curled closer to his hand, as though to shield its burned area from the flames.

"Can you... believe me... now..?"

Peter gently ran a hand over his red shirt, a pristine white jacket and set of black jeans; new clothes, courtesy of the shape-shifting space alien. As it turned out it also made a symbiotic suit for him that was actually pretty stylish and futuristic in design. And even though it came with its symbiotic webbing, Peter still made sure his web shooters remained on his wrists, he had put a lot of effort into his suit tech, so the symbiote wasn't bothered at all by him holding onto the metal bracers of the nanomachine suit on his wrist and attaching his webs shooters to it. Using both in conjunction or switching them out might be necessary, so it was good that the symbiote wouldn't make a fuss if he decided to use the nanotech for something.

Besides, he had worked hard adjusting to the Iron Spider suit, it would be a shame to just leave it be after all that work.

Well, the fact it wasn't some sort of alien ringworm crawling around in his gut to burst out of his chest one day and kill other people was actually nice too.

He sensed the Symbiote heave an aggravated sound of disgust at being compared to the alien in Aliens, "That is not how any self-respecting Kylntar reacts to a host nor how we reproduce!"

"Do you want a name?" Peter asked suddenly, hoping to head off the symbiote's annoyance.

"A name?" The symbiote repeated in surprise.

"A name." Peter confirmed, "I guess if we are going to actually make a team or partnership or whatever this is going to be, I should probably talk to you without simply saying something like 'you' or 'symbiote'..."

"I never considered needing one..." It admitted slowly, "Would you like to give me a name?"

"Maybe something like... Sym?" Peter offered, saying the first thing that occurred to him in the way of a name, "Like short for Symbiote?"

"I was under the impression the idea was NOT to call me just symbiote..." The symbiote replied in confusion.

Peter sighed and pulled out his phone before looking up a name that was better than his immediate and downright awful attempt at naming.

"How about Viribus?" Peter said, "In Latin, it means strength. Viri for short."

The symbiote was quiet and said, "It's a good name. I shall take it."