#[ ☽. ] ask. ⇨ speak to the spider.

[kuroimibojin]

TAG DUMP.

[lady-ashfade]

Yandere older! class 1A x Spider-Man reader (gn)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ ask: Yan Class 1a But Reader is Spider man! or yan! class 1a reaction to Us being a famous youtuder making edits of them! @serxinns

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: short, hcs, yandere behavior: stalking, obsessive, protective, aggressive, love sick, a few characters.

So, being a pro hero has its ups and downs. At the end of the day you just want to save someone and give hope, even if it’s just a little bit at a time.

Naturally a sarcastic, goofy, nerdy hero who takes it upon themselves to save the lower income part of the city is well loved. So you become a big fan favorite with so many fans, and merch being sold at almost every place.

Only, it’s not just civilians who are obsessed over you. It’s your fellow pros who take notice of everything you do.

I see them gushing over every time they see you on tv. Or rushing to the scene to try and help you whenever!! They also try and patrol the places you come to the most and try and work with you.

Mina speaks her mind about you on tv and interviews if they bring you up. How much she loves you and wants to work beside you more often. I think you save her somehow in a fight and scoop her in your arms before she can fall. You saved her and from then she just can’t stop think of you.

Deku of course has a whole notebook dedicated to you. Everything to your powers, how your schedule works, how often you are in one place, if you have a routine on where you go, how many special moves you have- he is a fanboy of course. He’s the number one hero, and yet he still stutters and gets on a rant when he is asked about you. (Has a whole room of your merch)

Bakugou believes only he should work with you. You’re not some weak person and can handle yourself, but if you did need help no one could be there like he could. If you work together on some things he acts like he doesn’t want to be there with you, saying how you should be handling this on your own. But he is so selfish for being there and keeping you all to himself. He refuses to walk like three steps away from you like a hawk.

Of course I have to mention your twin flame Sero. He is chill and so cool to be around. Everyone gets jealous because you both just swing around and have fun! You can relax together, keep each other safe- I believe you would call him something good in a interview and the rest would be so pissed- while he just sends them smirks.

Jiro is probably the most chill and kept in her obsession with you. Don’t get her wrong, she worships you but she is just too shy and tries to think about you instead of her own feelings. She gets really flustered when you work together, tries her hardest to inform you on what’s going on. (Asks you to sign her guitar)

Ochako is just like Mina and is just a fangirl. Everything you come out with she buys, even on the streets when she sees something. (She sleeps with a plushie of yours) While fighting she tries to protect you but you’re just too good and she ends up fangirling. Save her- and she breaks out into lovely giggles.

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: miles morales x gn reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: miles and his kaomojis are so cute (and he likes stealing your clothes)

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ established relationship

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: idk why that miles pic is so funny; hold on, spot, I gotta tell my s/o I love them

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Miles stares down at his phone intensely, mulling over whether he should text you or not. You asked him to be your boyfriend recently, and of course he said yes, but he was still doubting himself. He wanted to see you, though, and his Spider-Man duties had taken him close to your apartment.

can i come over?

He bit his lip as he anticipated your answer.

ofc

yay (´∇ﾉ｀*)ノ

ure so cute

Miles instinctively covered his flustered face, even if it was covered by his mask. Acting oblivious is cool, right?

【・ヘ・?】

the emoticons.

oh

my cute little bf <33

(⺣◡⺣)♡*

Holy shit. How creepy would it be if he arrived under five minutes?

☾⋆☆⋆☽

i had a lot of fun last night ヾ(＾∇＾)

i did too :)

by the way i'm missing a sweater

• • •

Oh no. He was so sure you wouldn't notice.

♪v('∇'*)✌

miles come back here rn

☾⋆☆⋆☽

milesss

milesssss

whatttt (ｷ▼⊿▼)ﾉ?

ure so cutee

and so cool

but i need that sweater back

凸(¬���¬)

miles you child

☾⋆☆⋆☽

You took your sweater back the next time you saw him. That was fine, though; with how often he wore it, it was starting to lose its "yours" feeling. Still, he couldn't help but complain.

"It's cold."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

Simply, you respond by pulling him into a hug to share your body heat. "How does that feel?"

Normally that would be good enough, more than good, even, but he wanted to rub it in this time. "Good, but... it would be a lot better if I had your sweater."

You click your tongue and he only laughs in response. "I'll let you pick out a hoodie, then, next time."

If he wasn't in your embrace, he would be bouncing in his spot. Instead, he hugs you tighter. "Thank you."

If humans could speak symbols, Miles would've said ♥.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

I love this hoodie sm (●♡∀♡)

more than me?

yes.

miles...

┐_(ツ)_┌━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

( ；｀ヘ´)

( ˘ ³˘)

( ˘ ³˘)

[lnfours]

nonsense | t.h

summary -> inspired by ‘nonsense’ by sabrina carpenter. dedicated to @darling-im-wonderstruck and @kate-bishopss <3

au -> tom holland x singer!reader

wc -> 1.6k

warnings -> unedited, fluff, tom being bf material, a little bit of language and sexual innuendos

masterlist | listen

                        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you sighed softly as you sat in the interview chair, tapping your fingers against your leg as your hairstylist and makeup artist applied some last minute touches before the camera turned on.

your new single had been on top charts for the past couple months, your album was coming out in a few short weeks, a tour was on the agenda for later this year. everything felt like it was finally slotting into place.

your fans had shown an insane amount of support from the number of streams and pre-saves for your new music, everything career wise made you feel on top of the world.

personal life wise, not so much.

you had met tom awhile back, the two of you had instantly connected while he was filming the latest spider-man movie. you two had gone out on a couple dates, hooked up a few times, the usual.

he checked all the boxes. he was caring and sweet, he made you feel like a queen, and he made sure you knew just how special you were to him.

however, whenever he was around, you felt knots in your stomach. the nervousness would set in whenever he was near. whenever you talk, you’d feel like you were speaking nonsense. all the nervousness is what kept you from jumping into something with him, but he was adamant about waiting for you. he didn’t want anyone else but you.

he didn’t care if it made him sound desperate, didn’t care about the girls in his dms or the ones who would text him and ask if he was seeing anyone. he only wanted you.

the camera started rolling and the interviewer introduced herself, smiling to the camera before introducing you. you smiled and thanked her for having you on before she asked her first question.

“so, ‘nonsense’ has been a huge hit,” she started, “you sing some very, risqué, lyrics, while also talking about how this certain someone makes you feel. did you pull inspiration from real life to write this?”

you nodded, “yeah, i did. i mean, you know that feeling you get when you talk to your crush? the kind of feeling that makes your insides melt? that's kind of how i feel with this person, every time.”

she smiled, “do they know they make you feel that way?”

you nodded, letting out a soft chuckle, “they do, yeah.”

she continued with the next question, “so, fans have speculated that the song is about tom holland, and you guys have been spotted out and about over the past couple months. are they right?”

you shook your head, palms sweating as you thought out your answer, “they’re all so creative with their speculations, but no, it’s not. tom and i are just friends.”

she tilted her head, “really? i mean, so many people have put compilations together of the two of you together and it seems like there’s some real chemistry brewing there.”

you smiled politely, “yeah, no. he’s really sweet, but we’re just friends.”

you felt the knots in your stomach again as you talked about him. just the thought of him made your stomach erupt in butterflies, how were you supposed to be together?

the interview was over after some more questions about the album and tour. you walked back to the dressing room, grabbing your things. as you scrolled through the missed texts on your phone, only one stood out to you the most.

tom: you were great ❤️

you smiled softly, going to reply, but your thought were interrupted when your manager walked in the door.

“the cars here,” she smiled, “ready?”

you tucked your phone back into your purse, “yeah,”

you walked outside of the building, saying hi and greeting some fans who waited outside. you took pictures, signed autographs, but the only thing on your mind was that text.

you pulled your phone back out as you got into the car, the driver heading back to your apartment building.

y/n: thank you ❤️

your fingers hovered over the keyboard, contemplating sending what you were thinking. you didn't understand why you were so nervous around him, why everything he did made your heart race or why he made your tongue go numb like all of a sudden you’re speaking gibberish.

none of it made sense, but then again, did it really have to? wasn’t the whole point of falling in love with someone about risks and growing together?

it was, right?

wanna get dinner tonight?

you locked your phone as soon as the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message. you nervously bounced your leg, trying to fight back the urge to say ‘never mind’ as you watched the city life outside the dark tinted window.

your phone buzzed twice in your hand and you hesitated before looking down at the message on your lockscreen.

thought you’d never ask

meet at your place around 7?

you smiled down at your phone, your manager looking over at you as she spoke up, “nice job dodging those questions about tom earlier. i know how important your private life is, we want to keep it that way.”

you nodded, typing back your response before looking back at her. desperately trying to steady your heartbeat.

sounds good, spider-boy ❤️

“yeah,” you sighed, “i mean its not like i completely lied to them. we are just friends.”

“friends who hook up and get dinner on sunset?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. you sighed as she giggled, “i mean, i know there’s something brewing, anyone with eyes does, but why wait?”

you shrugged, “he just makes me nervous, almost like he’s too good to be true.”

“for as long as i’ve known you, if anyone deserves the ‘it’s too good to be true’, it’s you.”

you nodded, a soft smile on your face as the driver pulled up in front of your apartment building. you said your goodbyes, heading into the building and making your way into the elevator. you sighed, pressing the button for your floor.

maybe she was right. she almost always was.

the next few hours felt like the longest ever as you got ready. your hair was still styled almost perfectly from before, you touched up your makeup, and slipped on one of your favorite dresses. you felt good, and you looked good.

you were in the bathroom, applying some lip gloss in the mirror when you heard the knock on the door. you ruffled your hair one last time before making your way down the stairs and to the door, the clicking of your heels echoing throughout the penthouse.

you opened the door, smiling as tom stood in a dress shirt and dress pants. his sunglasses pushed back the curls that would normally fall in front of his forehead.

he looked so damn good.

he could say the same about you, though. his eyes traveled down your body as soon as you opened the door. he smiled as he handed you the bouquet of flowers from his grasp.

you thanked him and let him inside. he closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen where you were adding the new bouquet to the vase on the island.

“you look gorgeous, love,” he smiled as he took your hand. you laughed as he spun you around in a small circle, pulling you into his chest.

the smell of his cologne was embedded in your brain. after many nights of rolling over and smelling it on the pillows on the other side of your bed, or on one of the blankets on the couch he claimed was his, it smelled familiar. the feeling it gave you almost felt like home.

“so do you,” you grinned, “where are you taking me tonight, holland?”

“mm,” he hummed, “i booked a reservation for that italian place you like.”

you felt your heartbeat quicken as his nose brushed up against yours, “the key to my heart.”

he laughed softly, “seems you figured out what the key to mine is.”

you sent him a questioning look, “what’s that?”

“writing a song about me,” he smiled, “or, as you say, ‘about you and me’.”

you let out a chuckle, “you listened to it?”

“of course,” he playfully rolled his eyes, “it’s an honor to have a pop hit written about me, y’know.”

you hit his arm playfully, “stop.”

“stop what?”

“being so,” you trailed off for a second, “perfect.”

“you deserve nothing less, y/n.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and if he wasn’t holding you by the waist, you probably would’ve toppled over.

“you just make me so nervous,” you breathed out, “i’ve never felt this way about anyone else before.”

he smiled, “me either,” you returned the smile, “i know i’ve said it before, but i want it all with you. all the nervous jitters, the pillow talks, the dancing in the kitchen, all of it.”

in that moment, you put your nerves aside and let yourself give in.

“i want it all with you, too,” you mumbled, leaning closer to his lips. he smiled against yours as he kissed you sweetly, the both of you pulling away and erupting into soft chuckles.

your laugh grew louder when he picked you up, ignoring your protesting as he started up the stairs to your bedroom.

“what about our dinner reservation?” you laughed, fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants.

“you asked how quickly i can take my clothes off,” he said as he laid you down on your bed, “and there’s only one way to find out, love.”

                        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo,

jordan <3

[acearcane]

*Updated intro post

☽ Hey ☾

Hey there, I'm Vanya/Billy (they/them) I'm a college student, an aspiring author, and an occasional artist.

I reblog a lot, but I make posts occasionally! I tend to get super focused on one fandom at a time, but I do my best to give love to my other fandoms as well.

☽ Fandoms ☾

Speaking of which, the fandoms I usually interact in (mostly reblogging) include:

The Owl House

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Percy Jackson

Baldur's Gate 3

Marvel (especially X-Men, Spider-Man, and Agatha All Along)

Gravity Falls

Fandoms I lurk in (and enjoy) but don't really participate in:

Warriors

Heartstopper

Arcane

Stranger Things

Amphibia

The Walking Dead

Stardew Valley

You'll find a lot of "The Umbrella Academy" content on my blog, but as of TUA s4, I will be taking a break from Umbrella Academy content. It was a bit of a bad breakup.

☽ Writing ☾

If you're interested in my writing, feel free to check me out on ao3 at acearcanum. As of right now, I've only written for The Owl House and The Umbrella Academy, but that's subject to change.

I also run a sideblog focused on my original work, "Ghostling". If you'd like to see more of my writing outside of the fandom space, please consider following me at @ghostling-tales

NOTE: The Quest for the Keys of a Death is currently on hiatus. I have no projected timeline for when it will return, but I do plan on continuing it.

☽ Boundaries ☾

My DMs and asks are always open; I'd love to chat! Feel free to tag me in tag games, I absolutely love them.

Please note that if I don't continue a tag game or answer an ask, it's nothing against you. I have a pretty small social battery, even online, and sometimes it's easier to just observe than interact. I still appreciate anything sent my way! <3

Same goes for comments on ao3!

[daydreamerbunny]

Always [ Neteyam Sully x female!reader ]

Pairing: agedup!Neteyam x female omatikaya!reader

Genre: angst, some fluff at the end

Summary: Neteyam loses you and reflects back on the happy moments.

Warnings: major character death and descriptions of dying, pregnancy mention

Author's note: why did I do this to myself lmao just something I was thinking about so I had to write it. Apologies for any grammatical errors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He should have never let you come. This is what Neteyam thought when he saw the blue water around you turn red after escaping the recoms. But you insisted so harshly. His family is your family. You did not think twice to help Payakan, or his siblings, or even Spider. Where Neteyam was you were there, regardless of what he thought.

Lo'ak called out for you. "What's wrong?"

Neteyam's ilu arrived just in time as Neteyam rushed over to you as you groan in pain, "I'm shot." You cry out as Neteyam pulled your torso onto his ilu.

"I know baby I'm sorry." Neteyam could barely speak. He was scared to say anything.

"Let's get to dad, bro!" Lo'ak yelled as he helped Neteyam and Spider sit up straight on the ilu.

You lean your head against your mate's back for support as the pain grew in intensity and caused some nausea. Tsireya held onto your leg as Neteyam instructed his ilu to speed ahead to the flat rocks ahead. A couple tears fell from your cheeks and your hand rests on Neteyam's shoulder, gripping it tightly. You could sense his internal panic and you wanted to soothe him.

This almost made him pissed. Even when injured you wanted to take care of him.

Jake jumped onto the flat rock from his skimwing and met Neteyam at the edge of the rock.

"What happened?" His father asked as he reached to help bring you onto the rock.

"She was shot." Spider answered and climbed out of the water.

After you were placed onto the rock Jake and Neteyam were quick to tend to you. Jake quickly turns you to look at your back and mumbles a curse under his breath at the site of the exit wound. Neteyam's hands pressed down on the bullet wound and he winced at your cries. Your breathing sped up and your eyes were dancing back and forth between your mate and father-in-law.

"'teyam." You whined and placed a hand on top of his. "I'm scared."

Neteyam's chest shook, but he held back the tears. "I know, my love. But I am right here."

Jake felt helpless watching his son comfort his mate through her last moments. Neytiri landed on her ikran and rushed to Jake's side, her hand covering her mouth as she choked out a sob. Her ears pinned as she collapses next to you. Jake places a hand on his mate's back as she reached out to caress your forehead. There was nothing they could do to heal a bullet wound to the chest.

Your breathing was labored and your vision was starting to get blurry. The pain was still radiating, but it was starting to fade. Your grip on Neteyam's hand was now weak.

"I love you." You muttered and raised a shaky hand to his cheek.

"Oh Great Mother." Neteyam choked out and he holds your hand to his cheek, "I love you."

Oh Ewya, your eyes. Those sweet eyes dulled and Neteyam lost it.

"No no no." Neteyam scrambled to pull you into lap and held your cheek, "please come back to me." He sobbed and brought his shaking hand to your lower stomach.

This is when he let out a cry that resembled a scream. Neytiri herself was also letting out wails and Jake felt defeated. He failed to protect his own. He looks over to Lo'ak, Spider and Tsiyera who are all crying in their own ways. Lo'ak had his head down in guilt, Tsireya was on her knees near your feet and Spider was just staring down at the ground with tears flowing from his eyes.

"Great Mother please." Neteyam cried.

"Neteyam." Jake softly said his son's name and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I never ask for anything!" He yelled and looked up at his father in heartbreak. "I-I do what you say and I do everything to make everyone happy and safe. Why am I being punished? Ewya blesses me with a loving mate and child then they get ripped away from me. This is cruel." Neteyam was shaking so much at this point and looks back down at your face. "She was not. She was good." His bottom lip quivered as he moved your hair away from your face.

Jake and Neytiri were both shocked at the news that you were pregnant, but that something they could talk about another time. Neytiri scooted closer to her son and ran a hand over his hair while looking at you. You would've been an incredible mother and it makes her heart ache that her son would not be able to experience it. She did not blame her son's disturbance in his faith as she was questioning it herself.

"Can you hear me, Corporal? Yeah, I know you can. The little girl didn't have to die." Quartich's voice made Jake's eyes squint in anger, "I've got your daughters."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Talk about her, 'itan." Neytiri called out to Neteyam.

The Sully family, plus Tsireya and Ao'nung were gathered in a large circle after your funeral. Neteyam looked up at everyone and they were all looking at him. His still aches heavily and he was not quite sure on what to do with it. His fingers reach up to touch the necklace that was once yours that he wore. You've been wearing it ever since he could remember.

Neteyam closed his eyes for a moment.

You and Neteyam were laying on the sand, on beach away from village. Your head was tucked into his neck and a hand on his chest, humming a soft tune. His arm was around your shoulders and his other hand was on yours, keeping you close to his heart. His eyes were closed, but he was awake. Just enjoying the sound of the waves and your voice.

"My love." You nudge your nose to his jaw and sit up, "I have something to tell you."

Neteyam also sits up and holds himself up by putting his hands down in the sand, "if you're going to tell me I'm handsome I already knew that." He joked.

"Okay, just for that maybe I won't tell you." You pretended to be disgusted and turn away from him.

Neteyam grins and wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting you back to him. You giggle and lean your back against his chest, relishing the kisses he is giving you on your cheek and neck.

"I want to hear what you have to tell me." Neteyam said.

"So, I know that we were waiting until after we deal with the Sky People." You took one of his hands and place it on your lower stomach, "but I think Ewya told us we should have been more careful." You also place your hand on your stomach and gently rub it.

Neteyam widened his eyes and moved to sit right in front of you, "are you sure?"

You rolled your eyes playfully and nodded, "I am very sure." You watched his face and your tail flicked nervously.

Neteyam's eyes fell to your stomach and the softest smile appeared on his face, "baby, I am honored." His hands cup your face and he kisses you passionately.

"I love you, 'teyam." You whisper against his lips. "Always."

"Always."

"I do not know about you guys, but I can definitely talk about the time she dragged me by the tail to apologize to Neteyam once." Lo'ak piped up out of nowhere and it caused everyone to chuckle a bit.

Neteyam wiped the one tear that was falling down and smiled slightly, "yeah you know what? The thing about her is that she was always right too."

[zowensing]

I’m realizing how much I actually love this silly website and should put some effort into it!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅

Likes and fandoms

History

Astronomy

Poetry and the classics

Films and indie movies

Philosophy

Museums

David Bowie

Harry Potter (specifically Marauders/ATYD)

Marvel

Heartstopper (book and show)

Our Flag Means Death

Nimona

Spider man (all media)

Facts

I use they them pronouns

History major in university

I speak English and French

Favorite color is purple

I’m a practicing Buddhist

I am Hard of Hearing and wear hearing aids

Feel free to ask or say literally anything to me! I’ll try to respond asap

If not you can come yell at me on TikTok

[mystxmomo]

Title: The Heart Grows Fonder

Summary:

For a while after waking up it’s just them. Just the five of them, a beat up island, and a limitless amount of time to spare.

Chapters: 1/2/3/?

Ao3 link

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The supermarket, as predicted, is emptier than it had been in the simulation.

This should go without saying, but it’s still something that manages to surprise him. It’s near barren comparatively. Things like cereal boxes and soda bottles have long since been eaten into, stale and rotten even if they’d been left untouched.

Despite that, it’s still like the room is stuck in a time before despair. Rooted in some amount of normalcy and warmth.

A lot of the island is like that, though. Like they’d just picked up what they needed and left everything else to sit. To rot with time.

He has to wonder if they’re included in that, now.

… It also goes without saying, but Sonia is nothing short of delighted by it.

“It is sort of like a horror movie, do you think?” She calls out, breaking past him in a sprint when he holds the door for her, “The store, I mean!”

“Our life is a horror movie...” Hinata mumbles, watching the way a barn spider spins itself down from the ceiling. Then, realizing he said that outloud , corrects with, “Yeah. I guess it kind of is like one.”

Sonia smiles at him. He knows without a doubt that it’s not hiding anything. She’s just that delighted, that determined to be here. It’s animating, and energizing. Hopeful.

He does just as they did to the restaurant, taking a moment to carefully prop open the door so that they’re not breathing in the stale dust and dirt that float through the air with every new step. If this bothers Sonia as much as it bothers him, she makes no mention of it. It probably doesn’t. She seems a little distracted, already.

When he huffs a breath out, a stray strand of hair that’s escaped the braid follows its path.

“Do you think we could find scissors?” He asks, offhand. Reaching up to swipe the strand back over his shoulder, so he doesn’t go cross-eyed in an attempt to study it. Sonia props her hands on her waist and takes a long, sweeping look around the room.

“I think,” She speaks carefully, determined, “We will make do.”

Old yellowed papers scatter about the floor, the desk, hang on the walls.

Him and Sonia take opposing sides of the store, patrolling each section line by line for anything they might find use in. Hinata is only kind of here, while he walks. It’s not something he realizes immediately, but weighs heavy on his shoulders when he notices. His mind isn’t on the lines of plastic wrapped convenience goods, nor the carefully stacked cans of soups and vegetables they might be able to get some use out of. Instead, it’s on the way Sonia’s footsteps echo about maybe seven asiles down. The way light streams into the room between cracks, and how close the cracked, plastic shelf is to collapsing.

He tilts his head at it and just sort of.. Stares at the shelf. Huh. Seemed dangerous. The crack in it would fold in under any notable weight, bringing the entire structure with it. By the looks of it, it’d been used to stock bread, and cheap pastries. Lighter objects, then...

He’d have to keep that in mind for later. An accident waiting to happen, if they weren’t careful.

Aluminum bins, moth eaten clothing, and a single dried out fountain pen. Hinata gets maybe two isles in before he actually finds something his attention deems worth his time. Souda would like the pen. Some kind of souvenir, by the looks of it. Has the word Jabberwock engraved into it, and weighs heavy in his hand when he goes to pick it up. Made of.. Sterling silver and plated gold?

Hm. It wasn't built for use. All show, no function. It wasn’t a handcrafted masterpiece, worth the price of it’s material. It was just some tacky memento, overpriced and mass produced. Made to look fancy, and inevitably fall apart with enough use.

Not that it would matter much to Souda. He wouldn’t actively use it as a pen. He pockets it for later, probably as an apology for tricking him.

(Brooms, mops, buckets, bleach, cleaner, rags, paint…)

Hinata stalls half way down the aisle,

If the SuperMarket looked like this, what did the rest of the island look like?

They hadn’t really gotten the chance to explore, before. The last two weeks had blurred together in a haze of instability and uncertainty. His focus had been, mostly, on a desperate attempt to keep their heads above water as they came back to, stuck to the medical ward of the one cleaned Future Foundation building on the island. Between the resigned reassurances of “Yes, Souda, holy shit stop screaming, still Hinata here,” and the repetitive, belligerent squabbles of, “Togami, please, for the love of god shut the hell up no one here is out to stab you anymore,” Hinata had sort of ended up with his hands full.

Most of the island was probably in a similar state of disrepair...

(Sonia, he notes, is about two aisles away from him. Her heels click on tile, and she says something akin to “Oh! I have found some brooms, Hinata!”)

Huh. The cabins would probably be damn near unusable.

He had caught sight of them in passing. There had still been exactly sixteen, sorted out in two rows, overgrown with ivy and covered in moss. Perhaps that was coincidental, a dime of a chance that there was enough for the lot of them. Like the only thing that had changed was time, and build. Not that they would need sixteen. Not immediately, not all of them.

Like seemingly so many things, he hadn’t considered it at a glance. But if buildings like the super market and restaurant had been so neglected, how would something as small as one room cottages fair?

(The sound of Sonia’s footsteps fall closer, and he reaches up to rub at pressure points. A migraine is making a desperate attempt to form, sneaking itself into his thoughts.)

A small part of him does not want to check their cabins.

It just feels like blood money. A monkey’s paw wish. Not in the form of literal, physical currency, but their inherent survival on the backbones of others, the path razed by the sacrifice of others. That any of the resources they could gather, anything that could survive. Tainted, and cursed.

They weren’t dead though.

Hinata has tasted death, thick on his tongue and lingering in the air. The smell has sunken into his hair, on his clothing, against the tips of his fingers. In the form of smoke and poison, of blood and tears. Every trial had ended with long showers. Water heated as hot as it could be, and desperate attempts to wash off the events of the night prior. He’d rubbed his skin raw until it shown red, and watched sand and suds follow down the water until it ran clear. Watched clear water drain for hours, mindless, lungs heavy with steam.

The night of the first trial had been the worst. The night of the fifth the longest.

They weren’t dead, though.

Likewise, the first day he’d been awake had been the hardest. The island, for everything wrong, still had water that ran hot. The first thing he’d done when he’d gotten the chance was shower, letting the water weigh down the hair that might not belong to him. There was no sand to clear, no blood to wash away. The needles had only left bruises on his arm for a night, a single goddamn night, and by the time he’d showered they’d disappeared to nothing on his skin. The only proof of their trials being the pure, unfiltered exhaustion that gripped his body, and the strands of hair that swam around his form in the water.

They weren’t… dead , though.

(“Hinata?” A hand grabs his arm and he-)

Hinata stills. Despite the fact that he’s currently in a hoodie, that two layers of cloth lay between her touch and his skin, that he’d heard her coming, it still manages to startle him. He stares at the shelf he’s well and studied at this point, at the tag labeling some kind of off brand cola for a good four dollars. Wholey overpriced. Nothing in its place.

His shoulders fall. Looks to Sonia, finally, because she’s here, touching him, his arm, and he’s coming back to himself.

She looks concerned.

“Hinata?” Sonia asks, head tilting in a curious sort of way.

“Uh?” Is his elegant response. His mind is blank. Wiped clean by the sound of her voice, light and sincere.

“Are you okay?” Sonia asks, pulls her hand away from his shoulder. He notices, just barely, that she’s managed to gather up some supplies in her arms. More then he’s managed, in the small time he’s searched about. Two buckets hung off her brooms, bottles hanging from her hands. It looks heavy.

"It’s just. You've been staring at that spot for. Ah. Quite some time now."

“ Uh ,” He repeats, stronger. Reaches up to rub at his eyes, and ignore the way light suddenly stings, “Yeah. I’m fine? I mean, I was just.. Thinking?” Hinata scrambles to gather all his thoughts, waves a hand to dismiss hers, "We probably won't be able to use the cabins. To sleep in, I mean," Because that sounds about right. Like the most important thing to focus on, right next to everything they’d managed to scavenge together.

Sonia’s eyes light up when he mentions it, “Oh,” She says. Looks at their surroundings, “Yes, I was thinking about that earlier..” She says it like a musing, a half hearted thought.

He reaches down to grab the bottles, because they look heavy, and she’s already carrying a lot in her hands. Dully, he notes.. Bleach and Ammonia? Alright. They were keeping these two bottles far, far away from one another.

“We could sleep in the future foundation building?” She offers, and he’s not sure if it’s to alleviate his concern, or her own.

Hinata thinks of cold, hospital walls. He thinks of the heavy locks on the doors, of the security cameras planted in the ceilings. He thinks of the pods that would be only a hallway down, or the large computer systems that had died when they’d lived. Hinata grimances, “Do you really want to, though?”

Sonia doesn’t answer him. It’s enough a response to sate him.

They would manage. They would manage just fine.

They pace the store once more, together, then a third time, for good measure. Their second time through, they figure out that some of the worse for wear clothing could work as rags, and their third, a bucket of paint. And, well. The only paint they can find is just this ugly, godawful shade of green. Kinda, emerald leaning, but darker.

“What?” Sonia says, when he mentions this thought outloud, “It is a perfectly fine color!”

“Mmm,” Hinata considers it more. Stares down at the shade, because he’s trying to figure out where the hell he’s seen it before. And-

Ah.

"... Komaeda would like this color," Hinata muses, outloud. Which meant there was probably nothing actually wrong with it, and Hinata was just being a baby about this. Cool. Good. Great. Glad to have that one sorted out.

Sonia raises an eyebrow at him. She is, in fact, polite enough to let him work though this one on his own, and does not question how abrupt and intrusive that thought had been. He rubs his head, again, ignores the pain that strikes through it, again, “God. You know what? It’s fine. If it’s the only thing we have, then it’s the only thing we have.”

They find nothing for cutting his hair. The only scissors they find at the market are rusting at the clip, and crunch oddly when they snap together. Hinata takes one look at them and immediately decides. No. Absolutely not. He would not trust those things with paper, let alone his hair.

He does find a brush, though. It’s still in its plastic, brand new. Hinata resigns to keeping his hair.

Just a little longer.

//

The walk back is mostly silent. Sonia stops only once, to pluck some flowers off the wild and flourishing trees that invade their pathway, “It will brighten the place up,” she says, when she notices the way he eyes the red and yellow hibiscus flowers. “We ah... Need that right now, wouldn’t you say?”

And the thing is, they’re going to die at the end of the day. Water will only keep them alive for so long. The paint and chemical fumes would kill them faster. The effort seems near a waste.

But she seems so pleased with the collection she gathers, small as it may be. Resigned, he reaches over to help pluck some off with her, and they quietly sit to fill the buckets around the ammonia and bleach bottles that have been haphazardly stuck in there.

“Try picking near the end of the stem,” Hinata tells her, blankly, “There’s no way there isn’t a vase somewhere in the main building. It was made to be like.. Some kind of Banquet hall, right?”

She places a flower in her hair, and gives a hum in reply. Thunder rolls in the distance, but the sky is still bright.

And well. It turns out, he is correct. They would not be able to use the cabins to sleep in.

He knows this, because near halfway to the hotel’s main building Hinata parts ways with Sonia. Places his own small pile of stuff on the edge of the path, because he’s not going to make her carry the things he took specifically to help.

“I’ll meet you back up there,” He assures her, “I just have to check something.”

He glances to the cabins. She seems to understand immediately, because she offers him only the barest of nods before she continues her path forward.

He checks his cabin first.

He’s not sure why he finds himself wandering to it. None of them would really be the same. But it still sort of feels like a breach of privacy, to even start somewhere he’d never owned.

It has a hole in the roof.

It’s in the far right corner, around where the plethora of plushies he’d painstakingly collected once stood. Wild flower and ivy has replaced the stand, rooting in between the cracks in the wood. The shutters are broken. The glass has been taken by moss and dirt. The paint on the wall is cracked and flaking.

There’s no curtains on the bed, and no plastic plants piled up in the corner. The bathroom is draped in shadows, a shampoo bottle left on the floor. Dried out.

There are no cameras, and no television propped up on the wall.

It’s just him and the stubborn, thriving wildflowers.

He almost laughs when he sees the condition it’s in. Leans against the doorway and admires it.

Yeah, he thinks. Definitely not in the NeoWorld Program anymore. As though he needed another reminder.

But they’re all like that. Sonia’s old cabin has a broken window. A few of Souda’s floorboards have collapsed inward. Owari’s cabin has more water damage and mold then he’s seen so far, and Kuzuryu’s has no door.

It’s just, disconnected. Impersonal. Unlivable. Hinata had seen everyone’s cabins in the NeoWorld Program. For some, he’d been invited in. Others had invaded upon their death, to investigate a murder they did not deserve. But he had seen the personal touches everyone had added to a space that had been, for all intent and purposes, interim.

And now, broken down and abandoned, they don’t feel like home anymore.

It’s a blank slate. Something fresh. Starting over.

Wordlessly, quietly, Hinata grabs his buckets and makes his way back to his friends.

//

By the time he gets back to the restaurant, Sonia has found a bowl large enough to fill the flowers with. She’s propped it up on a table closest to the window, directly in a stream of sunlight that burns itself into the wood. The water is still and cold, and Hinata takes a moment to quietly sort some of his own flowers into the mix.

Souda, predictably, isn’t happy about being tricked.

“Bro, I rushed to fix this thing!” He tells him, practically in tears over this, “I worked so hard on this! I missed out on a chance with Miss Sonia-”

“I brought you a gift?” Hinata interrupts, holding up the pen for him to take.

Souda eyes it, momentarily. Just a bit warily. Opens his mouth to reply, then reaches over to pluck it from his hands instead, and take a second to turn it over. Hinata can see his mind working through the make of it, which parts come apart and which stick. Watches the way a build is mapped out in his mind, possibly in the same way Hinata’s had at a glance.

“You know?” Souda back tracks, carefully, lets a laugh fester in the back of his throat, “Alright. Forgiven, Soul Bro. Just- don’t do that again,” A pause, “This is.. actually pretty neat. Where’d you get it?”

“Oh. You know,” He rubs the back of his neck, “Just kinda, came across it.”

Souda smiles wider, and spends a moment wistfully twisting the pen apart. The distraction is immediate, and successful.

Kuzuryu paces when he’s thinking. Follows a single path in a line, like he’s trying to carve it into the wood. He gets this look on his face, scrunches up his nose and rubs at his neck.

“It’s just- Nasty,” He gestures to the mold, unwilling to step any closer to it then he has to the uncovered mess, “Just, look at this shit. It’s everywhere.“

“It ain’t like it’s not fixable,” Owari sounds tired, stretches back almost catlike, “It’s- Fixable, right?”

Hinata studies it. Tilts his head at the way the fungus has rooted itself into the wall. Does the mental calculations, near mindlessly. He has a map of the building seared into his mind, laid out on top a blueprint to an exact. Can visualize the pattern of the mold near perfectly. How the broken window would affect where the spores would root themselves, the direction and degree to which it’s spread. They stay quiet while he studies it. Though whether it’s because they actually expect an answer, or because there's nothing else to say, he’s unsure.

“There’s not enough to cause structural issues. It’s surface deep, at best,” Hinata says quietly, under his breath, “But if we don’t get rid of it, it will cause some more serious problems. Technically, we should cover any of the door ways around here, but the rest of the building isn’t really in any better condition. It shouldn’t be too hard to kill with the ammonia though. It really was a lucky find...”

Owari just gives him an odd look at his ramble. It’s not until he’s wrist deep in dirty water and half way through the mold does he realize that he didn’t know how to solve black mold issues before coming to this island, nor should he be able to judge the structural damage of a building by glance alone.

It unnerves him.

(He scrubs harder.)

//

He scrubs until the light filtering into the room turns marvelous hues of gold and red, and the excitement of something new turns to dedicated and concentrated work. Sonia joins him in scrubbing away at the mold when it becomes apparent that Kuzuryu will not, but that’s fine, because he and Owari go searching for clean, usable dishware instead.

The paint gets nudged off to the side for another day. They’d both forgotten, in their excitement, that they need brushes. Or rollers. Or something . That there’s a spot in the wall that would need covered in plaster cast, if he could even find some. That the fixes didn’t have to be immediate. They don’t have to do it today.

No one seems surprised at the news about their cabins. Really, even Hinata shouldn’t have been. No one had expected their things to manifest there, but it’s still a little disappointing to set in stone. To just... Acknowledge. Make it real.

So, Souda is assigned to drag in as many salvageable pillows and blankets he can find between the cabins and the old hotel and settle them all into a pile. They’re old. The kind of old that leaves the cloth yellowed and sides threadbared. They end up thrown in the middle of the floor, far off from any wall or pillar. A makeshift bed.

“It kinda reminds me of when the power would go out in my home, and me and the siblings would all gather in the livingroom and light a bunch of candles.” Owari says this all in one go, like she’s trying to lighten the mood. It helps, maybe, that she is sincere. “It’ll be fun. Like a lil’ sleep over, you know?”

Souda doesn’t look entirely convinced. Sonia absolutely does. Kuzuryu is entirely indifferent. Hinata... has slept on worse.

The room still smells like mold, despite the fact that they sat and scrubbed the walls till they were all but bleached and sparkling. There’s a draft that carries in through one of the broken windows, carrying the warm weight of an oncoming storm on it.

Hinata makes them dinner over a carefully lit fire and a pan that had already had scorch marks along the bottom. Their options are limited. Bags of rice that had been stored in bulk, and a whole lot of canned food.

He works with it. He is apparently incredibly effective at that.

“Hinata, you didn’t tell me you could cook,” Owari drools over the dish when he slides it her way, despite the fact that it’s barebones at best.

“Uh,” he fumbles, “I mean? I never really had to, in the simulation. But I did a lot when I was younger.”

She isn’t listening to him. She is instead already stuffing her face, wolfing down the food like it’s the first thing she’s eaten in years.

“This is exciting!” Sonia says, sincerely, holding up her dish just to observe it, “I have never had anything like this!”

“Yeah?” Hinata places a hand on his head, feeling awkward, “Trust me, this isn’t... Like, gourmet or anything.”

“Better than I could have done...” Kuzuryu admits, poking the slice of peach that had been sloppily dumped onto his rice, “Nice job, yeah?”

Hinata studies this scene. Eyes narrow, hand still on the next plate he’d gone to grab.

“Ah.” Never mind. Hinata sees what’s happening here. “You guys are going to make me cook for you from now on, aren’t you?”

Owari grins something large, and Kuzuryu smiles into his cup.

“Well uh,” Souda rubs the back of his neck, “I don’t really know how to cook either.”

“I have never cooked a day in my life,” Sonia doesn’t seem... Proud to admit this, so Hinata cuts her some slack on that one.

“I mean. It’s fine ,” because it is, “just, glad to have that one established. You know, being upfront about that one. Just don’t expect anything special, I guess.”

He gets a laugh out of Owari, for that one. So, it’s kind of okay.

The smart thing to do would be to start portioning out their food. Their supply was limited, dwindling. The first date of whatever supplies they’d get a mystery. Naegi had promised, begged him to believe that they wouldn’t be left for dead. But, “We don’t know how long it’s going to take to sort this out with the rest of the Future Foundation, you know? So just, sit tight. I’ll keep you updated.”

And well. There were five of them. Five of them, and only so much rice.

He’d made extra despite this. Despite how pathetic the meal was, despite the fact that they were limited to near nothing. They were celebrating tonight.

Except.

She’s going to make herself sick , Hinata notes, when Owari goes back for seconds. He’s mindlessly picking at his own food, the thought crossing his head like it’s just another fact in the sudden encyclopedia of knowledge he now apparently holds. She’s going to overeat, and get sick later tonight.

(He shouldn’t know that, so he decidedly does not say anything about it. But he quietly, wordlessly, moves to sit next to her instead. Taking a spot on the window ledge, like he’s looking out to the ocean instead.)

Owari also apparently realizes this fact maybe a little too late. About half way into her new dish, she begins to push around her food in an attempt to be anything but focused on it. Picks at rice clumps, tiredly. He really sort of just wants to tell her You know you don’t have to eat it, right? Like, dear god, don’t force yourself to do that .

But it feels wrong to be so insistent, and instead he studies the dish like it’s offended him personally.

“D’you think they’d send us some chlorine, if we ask?” Owari’s question is more of a musing than a question. Surprises him in how sudden it is. She looks on to the pool, filled only with old rain water and algae. “You know, the Future Foundation people. It’s just kinda sad lookin’.”

“Maybe,” Hinata answers, almost immediately. Decides not to comment that she’d known them for two weeks, and really? She couldn’t recall any of their names? He taps his cup carefully, “Probably. It shouldn’t be hard to come by. The hotel might uh- Still have some? Somewhere? Chlorine has a long shelf life.”

Not that they’d used the pool much as a group to begin with, in the simulation. That was probably in no small part thanks to the killing game aspect of it, but also the beach not being that much farther away.

But if she wanted to fix it up, then they’d fix it up. Eventually. Unquestioningly.

Owari nods, and forces another bite down. He looks away when she does.

Kuzuryu and Sonia mutter quietly, a small distance away. Souda messes with a pack of matches he’d found, trying to get one to light in a half hearted attempt at light.

The sun sets quietly that evening. The storm rolls in on the horizon, and Hinata takes in the way salt is carried in on the breeze.

//

Owari vomits up her food that night and Hinata pretends not to notice. It wasn’t his place to. She wouldn’t want him to. He recalls, distinctly, the way she’d pushed him away each time he’d tried to help her steady herself when she’d woken up from the simulation. The dirty looks she’d sent Naegi for doing the same.

She’d fallen five times before she’d let him help. He’d kept track. She’d never gotten to the point of letting Naegi help.

He ignores worry as it churns in his chest, and instead, he focuses on the way thunder rolls in the distance, and how everyone else’s breathing has settled as one.

He can’t remember the last time he’d heard rain. It never rained in the simulation. It was almost always clear blue skies and a soft breeze, the sound of seagulls and gentle waves. A sharp juxtaposition to Monokuma’s game.  

It’s comforting, in a way. Fraught, in another.

It masks the sound of her distant retching just enough to ignore, but not enough to leave him entirely unaware. Owari had left to hide outside, far enough away that she’d certainly come back soaked. Far enough away that he should not, in fact, be able to catch the sound of it.

He burns lines into the wall, tracing the minuet cracks and bumps through the dark

Owari hobbles quietly back into the room, making an attempt to close the door without notice. Without waking them. She doesn’t need to actively hide her footsteps. They’re light, these days. He catches the way water follows behind her, dripping like pin drops in a silent room. Her path would dry by morning. The only proof would be her hunger, and Hinata’s cognizance.

She does not cry. She settles into place next to Sonia, and lightning flashes outside the windows.

They’re together. They’re okay. They’re fine. They’re okay.

Hinata decides that storms might just be alright, and rolls over to join the rest of them in sleep.

They’re okay.

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: pavitr prabhakar x gn spider reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: pavitr was a touchy guy, you know this firsthand.

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 852 ~ established relationship

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: a lot of kissing and hugging

All Pavitr has wanted for months was to be with you. Maybe it was because you'd only just started dating, but it felt like could never have enough of you. He yearned for your kisses, sought out your hugs, and melted at your praise. There was nothing more he wanted.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There should probably not be two spider-men in your universe, regularly that is. It was your universe, after all, but that didn't stop him from popping over for a visit.

The people of New York would ask who he was and why he only seemed to work part-time forever, but he didn't care for it. Also why you would work so much slower, even when there were two of you; and to that, there was only one answer.

"Pavitr..."

"What?" He groans.

"Police sirens." Ah, a rude awakening announced aloud by your angelic voice.

"Just a couple more minutes." Pavitr pleads, stuffing his head into the crook of your neck.

When you move your hands away from him, Pavitr yanks them back and holds on tight. He was being stubborn, even when New York was potentially in danger. "If I yanked us over the edge of this rooftop right now..."

"You wouldn't dare hurt your beloved."

"That may be true, but–" Pavitr's laugh interrupting you meant that argument was definitely over, so you began anew, "If I kissed you, would you let me go save New York?"

"Hmm.." Pavitr pulled away only to weigh his decisions, although he only knew there was really only one choice. At least he got a kiss out of it. "Okay."

It seemed your city was at the mercy of Pavitr's whim.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

PDA feared Pavitr. It was true. Nothing could stop him.

As the Spider-person before you exchanges stories with you, Pavitr waltzes over to wrap his entire being around you. Whilst you continue to speak casually–it was a normal, frequent occurrence–the other Spider-person halts in her conversation.

"Hey, I think you've got a spider on you."

You chuckle at her joke, "Don't worry about him. He's non-venomous."

Pavitr grumbles about how it feels offensive, something about feeling weak, but he's not helping it by staying curled around you. If the Spider-person before you weren't there, he'd have probably tried to climb into your arms.

Another time you're just eating in the cafeteria. A lot of spiders had different timezones, so at any given time, no one table was empty.

You were sharing one with spiders whose names you couldn't quite place when Pavitr plops himself down next to you and plants a kiss on your cheek.

His tray holds a single apple, but you didn't really think about it. Lunch was one or two hours ago in Mumbattan.

Throughout the meal, however, he keeps kissing you, and kissing you, and kissing you; on the cheek, of course, he wasn't evil.

"I think that's enough, Pavitr."

"You really think so? You say so? I wouldn't say so." His words come out fast, like a rollercoaster, just so he can kiss you again just as quick.

"I really do think so."

"I beg to differ."

You wrap an arm around him to feed his insatiable need to touch you all the time, even if it costs you your dominant hand, and spare the spider-people around you.

Thankfully, he seems pleased with just that.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Was he too annoying? Nah, he couldn't be. You loved him at least as much as he did you. Probably.

Pavitr was usually sure about everything. He was sure that he could protect his city, that he was good at being Spider-Man, that he had good friends. He was even sure about things of the future. He could do anything he set his mind to.

He just wasn't too sure about you. He wasn't being annoying to his friends, but he could be annoying to you.

The blissful ignorance was no longer a novelty.

He stopped being so clingy, although he got as much physical touch as he needed to get going. It was better to be safe than sorry, after all.

What he didn't account for, however, was that it was really easy to notice his withdrawal from physical touch.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Pavitr, right now, seemed to be glowing more than usual. He was so much happier being in your arms than he would've, say, a week ago. He was giving you much less physical affection, and it certainly wasn't a welcome change.

"Pavitr?"

"Hmm?"

"I miss your kisses," Pavitr perks up in your hold. "and your hugs. You've been kissing me less and less. Is everything okay?"

He turns around to look you in the eye, an unintended pout on his lips. "I thought I was annoying you."

"Aw no, Pavitr, you've been perfectly fine. The other spiders don't really seem to care and I–well," You chuckle, "I really like your touch."

Pavitr lights up. He snuggles closer to you, letting out laughs in relief. "I like yours too," He pauses, realizing, "obviously."

"Obviously..."

"Okay, when you say it–"

"Hahaha."

"What??"

Clingy wasn't so bad. Not when it made your ray of sunshine so happy.

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: earth 42 miles morales x spider gn reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: the prowler and the spider had an infamous rivalry—the prowler was always improving, and the spider refused to die.

ᴀɴᴏɴ: Earth42! Miles had a s/o who was bitten by a spider as well (maybe just an AU where 1116 Miles didn’t get bitten by the spider or there was another one) and they are both rivals under the masks but literally love eachother without them bc they don’t know each other’s identity?? And some angsty if they were in battle and he was beating them tf up and literally about to kill them and removes the mask and MORE ANGST AHH.

ʀᴇ𝐐: yes ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.4k ~ alternate universe (within alternate universe) where the reader is bit instead of earth 1610 or earth 42 miles

part 2 (crackfic)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing, violence, blood, near death experience

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: we had so little of earth 42 miles so personally i dont like him yet but the request is good

☾⋆☆⋆☽

You had to hand it to him, he was good. He brought a new little gadget each time to take advantage of one of your weaknesses, which thankfully allowed you to discover them yourself and patch them up; but that didn't take away from the fact that he was inventing these little things so quick, or that he was noticing your mistakes.

The Prowler delights himself in your shocked little eye goggles when you punch him with your powers and it doesn't affect him, "D'ya like that? Can't use your little electricity powers on me anymore."

"Personally, I call it Venom, but I suppose," You pull back, regaining your bearings, cracking your knuckles, "it's too much to ask for a little respect."

"Getting tired?" Prowler closes the distance between you easily with his physics defying boots.

"Not at all." You press yourself onto the wall behind you, climbing on with your hands and feet to prepare for an attack. "Just caught me at the end of my shift, 's all."

"Exactly."

You ignore the little comment and aim up to shoot a web towards the ceiling, but then... click. Fuck, you were out of web fluid. He really was paying close attention to you.

You push yourself off the wall instead, diving towards him to topple him over. He dodges with his boots, leaving you to stumble onto the ground. He brings an empowered punch down while you're off your feet, but you roll over to the side, onto your back to dodge.

The ground beside you shatters as his punch lands, incredibly loud. Your ears ring as you hop back onto your feet.

"What's next? Lasers? Cat machine guns?"

"Cat machine guns?" The Prowler laughs, standing straight again. "What are you, nine?"

"Are you not nine? I thought we were the same age." You punch, but he blocks it with his sturdy gauntlets. You hop back before he can counter.

"Oh, you definitely did not." He lunges forward, aiming a punch to your head, but you dodge under and sweep his feet. He falls harshly onto his back, leaving him stunned for a second. You try to take advantage of it, but as you pull back your arm for a punch, your spider-sense warns you of something from behind.

You dodge to the side. As you regain your ground, your feet slip and you fall against the wall. For a moment, as the both of you focus up, you look around the room. What triggered your spider-sense? There was nothing or no one here, no one except for the Prowler.

Speaking of, he stands, clutching his head with one hand; and he's laughing.

"That was one of your tricks, wasn't it?"

Your powers allow you to regain your composure much faster and you take the opportunity to punch him.

The Prowler falters, taking a few steps back but keeping himself on his feet, "You punch like a baby."

"I don't want to kill you." You reason.

"Kill me?" He laughs, "With what, kindness?"

As he stabilizes himself, something else triggers your Spider-sense, and you dodge at nothing again. Another comes from behind and you stumble forward, right into his range. The Prowler punches, and it connects.

"What's up with that, anyway?" The punch knocks you back against the wall and you climb up desperately out of his reach. "You never kill. I always come back."

"It's my one rule."

"No one's asking you to keep it."

Another thing triggers your Spider-sense, then another, different directions, you can't keep up with them at the same time. Trapped in a corner, you let out a burst of Venom to try to decimate them before they can even reach you.

"What a pathetic little Spider."

The Prowler swings up, allowing his gauntlet to burst out with its usual mechanical power... and your Venom. The shock brings you to the ground, where you writhe in its cold tile with a searing pain and aftershocks of electricity. You're pretty sure you broke something–or pulled something, you really can't tell.

"Reusing my Venom?" You snicker with the last energy you have, "Running out of ideas, Prowler?"

"A blabbermouth 'till the end." You can hear the humor in his voice as he brings a punch down.

Crack!

His hands stays there, atop your head, his other one pins your shoulder to the ground. So this was it.

"I don't suppose," You wheeze out, "my rule applies to you?"

He ignores that comment, staring down at you. The mask tore in the area of one of your eyes.

His mask was always ruthless. It resembled a gas mask, preparing for the worse, but it also projected an image: his narrowed, emotionless eyes. To top it all off, he almost seemed to have the horns of a devil.

"You have nice eyes."

He was about to kill you and he was cracking jokes... he was about to kill you, and you never got to say goodbye to Miles.

"I wonder what you look like." He grabs a hold of your mask harshly with his gauntlet, "Did you ever wonder what I looked like?" and he pulls.

Now, without the mask in the way, you spit blood onto the tiled ground.

Suddenly, he seizes up, like he's frozen in place.

"Don't you think you're dragging this out?"

The Prowler lets go. He falls to his knees beside you, beginning to sob. He gathers you in his arms like you're glass, like he wasn't so hellbent on stopping your heartbeat just a few seconds ago.

Powerless, you simply rest in his arms. "This is a change, isn't it?"

"God, where do you find the strength?" He questions, chuckling a dry laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"A lot of coffee, let's say."

"Shut up."

The mask on his face disassembles itself, and–oh.

"Miles?"

"I'm so fucking sorry." He buries his head into the crook of your weak neck. His sobs make you feel the need to protect him, to kiss the tears that stain his face away, but you can barely move.

You can still, however, heave a sigh of relief. "Look, I'm not dead yet." Though your mouth was lathered in disgusting coppery blood. "Surely my little genius can carry me to safety?"

"Yes." He stands, shell shocked, with you in your arms. You felt so light, so weak, and it was all because of him. "I'm–"

You bring a weak hand to cup his jaw, the highest you could bring it. You can feel the wet tears gathered there. "You can be sorry later."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

You examine yourself in the mirror of the Morales apartment–thank that little spider that you've got healing powers–when you hear the front door open, meaning Miles is back with some first aid shit. "Miles, how am I supposed to explain this to my aunt?!" You call.

Miles stumbles towards the bathroom, the rustle of the plastic bag accompanying his footsteps.

He didn't know how you were so quick to forgive all the injuries he'd given you, all the harm he'd caused. He didn't know how you weren't screaming at him, how you didn't want to kill him. He had done you wrong so many times and you weren't even angry.

But when he stops in the bathroom doorway and you turn to him, he sees the look in your eyes. It's the same as always, full of love for him, appreciation for him; like everything good in the world was embodied in him.

New scars were forming on your face, the same that littered his body, the telltale scars of being struck by lightning. "I guess we match now."

He stares down at the rolled up sleeves of his hoodie. He'd never shown them to you, the very scars you caused him unknowingly. They were like lightning up his arms and his legs and his torso, only missing on his face. He was a dangerous storm, and you had dared to love him.

"I love you." He drops the bag and brings you in his arms again.

Your knees give in, for you were still weak, but he had you. He was there to support you, to keep you up. "I love you too."

"I'm sorry." He says again.

"I know." You reply simply. "...you are what keeps me going, by the way. You're the reason I find strength even in the worst of times."

"Te amo, te amo, te amo..." Miles whispers over and over again. (I love you.)

He didn't need to question why you weren't angry with him, so long as you loved him.

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: earth 42 & earth 1610 miles morales x gn reader (platonic)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: spider miles (millas) has an idea and he ropes you and prowler miles (miles) into it.

ʀᴇ𝐐: yes ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 798 ~ the tiktok

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: this is set in earth 42. also, i'm going to assume spider miles doesn't have tiktok, but another version with different audios and trends, based off the fact his coca cola is "koca soda"

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Guys!" Spider Miles bursts into the living room with great energy, waving his phone around.

"Ugh, what?" Prowler Miles groans in response.

"What do you mean "ugh"??" Spider Miles imitates the groan, annoyingly flicking one of his counterpart's braids.

"I meant, "ugh, you're so annoying", Millas." Prowler Miles responds without hesitation, making Spider Miles pout.

"Look, I just have something to show you." He hands you his phone and you unpause the TikTok on it to see.

Prowler Miles leans over your shoulder to look, but not before teasing his counterpart. "Didn't deny the "Millas" nickname?"

"You guys call me "Millas" so much, it's–"

"Practically your name?" You pipe up.

"Tsk," Millas clicks his tongue, "just shut up and watch the tiktok."

...

"You want to try that?" Miles asks.

"Why not?" Millas replies, blissfully unaware.. or maybe he was aware, and he was just trying to fool you so he could get a laugh out of it. Either way, he wanted to do this, and he certainly wouldn't back down.

You and Miles let out a simultaneous sigh. "Fine." Miles says.

In surprise, Millas let's out a "That easy?"

And Miles won't let that slide. "Would you rather we not play this fuckin' game or what?"

"Wow, my bad," Millas backs off, raising his hands in the air as surrender. "sorry."

And it's really damn funny, but you had to take pity on the guy. "Do you want me to spell it out for you, Millas?"

"Spell what?" Okay, so he really was clueless.

As you're about to tell him, Miles speaks first. "Let him cook."

Millas can only respond with confusion.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"He's not on that side of TikTok?"

"If he's seeing these bottle fan thing videos, I don't think so."

Millas finishes taping the bottle to the fan, which you don't notice, and turns to you. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." You stand, bringing Miles up with you. Millas hands the both of you a sleeping mask, and you cringe. Both masks were pink, covered in fake fluffy hair; the front was decorated with two closed eyes with luscious, full eyelashes. "Did you buy these just because of the video?"

"No..?" He tilts his head in confusion, "Do you guys not own sleep masks?"

"You own three?"

He shakes his head, like he's disappointed, "Forget it." He places the mask atop his forehead and reaches for the remote, but Miles has something to say first.

"Wait, why do you get the cool mask?" His eyes are narrowed, accusing.

In contrast to your pretty pink masks, Millas had an animal one. It depicted a sleeping panda, though the panda's nose was over the section above the wearer's nose. Anatomical inconsistencies aside, Miles totally thought it was much better than his.

"Cause I came up with the idea." Millas simply retorts. He doesn't leave any room for arguing as he places the mask over his eyes and turns on the fan.

Though he didn't make sure that you two had put on your masks yet, you follow through obediently, maybe just because it makes Millas happy.

It's a slow speed, but you're blinded and have the coffee table, couch, and various messy knickknacks on the floor to maneuver. Also, the TV is behind you and Rio would definitely kill you if it fell.

"OW!" You hear Miles, followed by a smack. "We don't fucking own Lego, what the hell!" Seems he stepped on a Lego brick.

While you're busy laughing, you forget about the bottle. "Fuck!"

Millas laughs at the both of you, and the same fate as yours doesn't befall him. He dodges, and you wouldn't be able to tell if he wasn't so boastful. "How'd you guys get hit?"

"Millas–"

"Let him cook." Why did Miles insist on letting him figure it out himself? Smack! "Ow, pinga!"

Smack! "Motherfucker."

Miles dodges again, and you can tell because you don't hear a smack.

The bottle spins and spins around in a predictable circle, but you don't know where you are in the circle, so and again and again you are hit and hit. Your cheek starts hurting, so you turn so that the other cheek feels the same abuse. Each cycle, there are only two smacks, several curses, and Millas's bragging.

"You guys just suck at this."

Okay, Miles had enough of Millas's stupidity. "You have–" He begins, but the smack that follows tears a yelp from his mouth, " 'cha madre!"

Trying to not get hit by the bottle, you back up and accidentally trip over the table leg, falling backwards and into Millas. He catches you by the shoulders, but before he can toss you away, he finally gets smacked.

"OUCH!" He yells, which prompts laughter from Miles.

The two of you laugh together, like hyenas, even if it is interrupted by the bottle smacking on Miles's head. Speaking of, Millas had pushed you away, and though you didn't know where you were now, you just knew you weren't at the mercy of a bottle taped to a fan.

Miles dodges the bottle coming at him, though he still clutches his cheek. "See? It's only 'cuz you got on me, you little shit, that I got hit!"

"Miles," You say with finality, "you have spider-sense, you idiot."

"Oh."

One final smack resounds as the bottle hits Miles's face before Millas turns the fan off, prompting all of you to take your masks off. "Well, it's not fun anymore."

"It never was." Miles plops himself onto the couch, rubbing at his burning cheeks.

"It was kinda funny." You admit, hopping onto the spot next to him.

"Yeah, you gotta admit it was funny, Miles." Millas snickers, so Miles throws his mask at him. Used to his counterpart's unnecessary aggressiveness, Millas simply collects the masks and piles them onto the table.

"Okay," Miles rolls his eyes, "it was a little bit funny."

Millas smiles at his victory, sitting down next to you ceremoniously. "See? You don't always have to be a–"

"But only when you guys got hit." Miles cuts him off.

Millas reaches behind you to smack Miles on the back of the head. "Grumpy ass."

"You little–"