#Any of the spider goons are

[imminent-danger-came]

What are your least favorite lmk characters?

(lmk is one of the few shows where I think 'least favorite' is actually a fitting description. Most of the cast just have such fun and unique personalities, so it‘s pretty difficult to actively dislike any of them imo!)

(not counting cop out answers like the Goldfish Demon)

I‘ve sat here for an hour trying to figure out which characters I would pick myself. I‘ve genuinely never thought about it before, that‘s how GOOD this show is 😆

Like- the Host Girl low-key feels like cheating. (Again- I don‘t dislike her but she doesn’t really have a CANON personality. Everything about her is purely fanon and hinges on her being Macaque‘s generic cute daughter.)

Not sure if Mo counts either. He doesn’t really rise in the rankings through virtue of being a cat for me. Most of the time there just isn‘t much for him to do.

I physically CANNOT pick someone from the main cast or the brotherhood- that hurts just thinking about it. ALL WOMEN ARE QUEENS (I have soft spot for Chang‘e in particular!). And even the characters we’re supposed to dislike are such a blast on screen! The Mayor was so fun! And Lady Bone Demon? As a least favorite? NEVER.

I guess by process of elimination my least fav is Syntax? That‘s the closest to a reoccurring character I can get.

IDK. Maybe you have a character that comes to mind immediately 🤔

I'm going to argue that there is some interesting stuff with Mo, and I may sound the way the pepe silvia guy looks, but that's okay. Anyways, episode 2x03 shows Mo's devotion/loyalty to Sandy, which on it's own isn't really much, but it's the fact that Mo is the one to bring sandy back in 4x06. Pigsy's big heartfelt speech doesn't do the trick, but Mo giving Sandy unconditional love does. And boy, is there something there! Like, "You said it Mo! The world may be full of darkness, but to let the light shine, all we need to do is stand together!" Girl, what is going on between Mo and Sandy! Mo get's a pass from me not by virtue of being a cat (I'm actually a dog person, I got 4 puppies), but by virtue of loving Sandy. We have so much in common.

But yeah! There really isn't a character I dislike in this show. I love everyone a lot, and most characters, even if they don't have interesting stuff going on are a blast to watch on screen.

I'm someone who is legitimately a fan of the Jade Emperor because of his one cool speech and subsequent death on screen. "Heh. And I suppose you think that person is you? How is it you come to stand before me today Azure, was there a point where you questioned it? Or were you too oblivious with your own delusion to realize that you were a mere piece in someone else's game. You may try Azure, the throne will be yours, but if you think I'll gift it freely, you are mistaken." Coolest shit ever. Big fan.

But. And I'm sorry to everyone, but I'd say Jin and Yin are my least favorites. I know. The gold and silver demons everyone loves. Like, they're fine, they're entertaining, they have a lovely placeholder as a manifestation of a simpler time, but that's also just kinda all they are. And they don't need to be anything else! It just also solidifies them as my least favorites asdfadsf. I'm sorry boys.

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 2

Find the other chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

Danny adjusted his uniform—a slightly altered version of his old one, now featuring a sleek crimson “RH” embroidered on the chest where the mustard stain used to be. Red Hood’s idea of branding, apparently. Hood had taken to lurking in the old gang office-turned-“management headquarters,” leaving Danny to run the front while vigilantes and goons occasionally dropped by, turning his shifts into Gotham’s weirdest soap opera.

The Fun Zone hadn’t changed much, except now the shady packages were replaced with less shady ones (“Hood-approved” mystery shipments), and Danny had to deal with more vigilantes stopping by to “check on operations.”

Today was no exception.

Danny was wiping down the counter when the door chimed, and none other than Nightwing strolled in, his domino mask firmly in place. He looked entirely too chipper for someone walking into a decrepit arcade that still reeked faintly of stale popcorn.

“Hey there!” Nightwing said, leaning against the counter. “Just here to make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

Danny didn’t bother looking up. “If you’re not here to play laser tag or bowl a few frames, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Nightwing’s grin widened. “Red Hood owns this place now, doesn’t he?”

“Yep. And I’m his underpaid lackey. You wanna order something, or are you just here to be nosy?”

Nightwing hummed thoughtfully. “How’s the, uh… ‘morale’ under the new management?”

Danny smirked. “Well, we don’t have to stash questionable shipments under the ball pit anymore, so that’s a plus. But Hood keeps leaving his knives in the breakroom, which is honestly a little unsettling.”

“I heard that!” Hood’s voice echoed from the office. A second later, the man himself emerged, fully armed, looking just as annoyed as ever. “Why are you here, Dick?”

Nightwing raised his hands innocently. “Relax, Jaybird. Just making sure you’re not turning this place into a different kind of front.”

“Everything’s fine,” Hood snapped, crossing his arms. “Go away.”

Nightwing glanced at Danny. “You sure? You don’t look like the happiest employee.”

Danny shrugged. “It’s fine. I just wish Hood would stop using the claw machine as target practice.”

Hood growled. “The claw machine is rigged!”

“It’s supposed to be rigged! That’s the point of claw machines!” Danny shot back.

Nightwing snorted. “You two sound like an old married couple.”

“Get out,” Hood growled, pulling a knife—not to throw, just to intimidate, apparently. Nightwing didn’t even flinch.

“All right, all right,” Nightwing said, backing toward the door with a grin. “But if I hear about any suspicious activity, I’ll be back.”

The door chimed as he left, and Hood turned to Danny. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Nope,” Danny replied cheerfully. “It’s part of my charm.”

Hood muttered something about “hiring a quieter cashier” before stomping back into the office, leaving Danny to man the register once more.

An hour later, the Fun Zone was bustling. A birthday party had taken over the bowling alley, and the mini-golf course was a madhouse. Danny was balancing a tray of nachos when he noticed a kid trying to climb the prize wall.

“Hey, kid!” Danny called. “You’re not Spider-Man; get down!”

The kid ignored him, reaching for a stuffed octopus just out of reach. Danny groaned, setting the tray down, but before he could intervene, a familiar figure swooped in—literally. Red Hood vaulted over the counter, grabbed the kid by the back of their shirt, and set them back on the ground like a wayward puppy.

“No climbing,” Hood said, his tone stern.

The kid’s eyes went wide. “Whoa, are you Batman?!”

Danny couldn’t suppress his snort of laughter. Hood turned to glare at him, but the damage was done.

“Nah, kid,” Danny said, grinning. “He’s more like Batman’s grumpy cousin.”

“Go play mini-golf,” Hood muttered, and the kid scampered off, still starstruck.

Danny leaned on the counter, smirking. “You’re really embracing the ‘fun boss’ vibe, huh?”

Hood sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do I even bother with you?”

“Because I’m the only employee who hasn’t quit,” Danny replied. “Plus, you secretly like me.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Sure, boss.”

Hood muttered something under his breath and stalked back to his office, leaving Danny to deal with the chaos once more.

The rest of the shift passed in relative peace, if you ignored the kid who tried to hotwire a go-kart and the group of teens who smuggled energy drinks into the laser tag arena.

[fryingpan1234567]

so what if the Bats were Spiders instead?

in a different universe, Bruce Wayne grew up with arachnophobia instead of chiroptophobia. he found secret experiments in a lab beneath their family estate, and it didn’t take him long to pick up the family business.

neurotoxin experiments. spiders.

in a different universe, Bruce Wayne became Spider-Man.

in a different universe, Dick Grayson didn’t need to be bitten by a spider to pick up the Spider-Man mantle. he grew up knowing how to do all the acrobatics and combat anyways— all B had to do was give him web shooters and a suit. but there couldn’t be two Spider-Man’s. so he became Nightwing. but with a blue spider on his chest instead of a bird!

Nightwing’s webs come from his escrima sticks. they’re packing some serious voltage, so sometimes in a pinch he’ll use them instead of his police-issued taser. his favorite part about the whole spider thing is that he can fully just… throw himself off of buildings. and not die. he’s an adrenaline junkie, what can he say?

in a different universe, Jason Todd did everything the same. tried to steal the wheels off the vehicle of the most famous vigilante in Gotham. B picked him up and let him choose the spider and gave him the power to do good.

Robin “giving him magic” didn’t stop the Green Goblin from caving in his skull. although spiders you thought you’d killed do have a way of disappearing.

and returning. in a different universe, the Red Hood took the black widow as his mascot and nobody could do anything in Gotham City without him knowing about it. he single-handedly put down all the arms dealers in the city.

in a different universe, Tim Drake made his own spider. he’d been a fan of Thomas and Bruce Wayne’s work for his whole life, or at least since he learned how to read— and he figured he could get Spider-Man’s attention if he was able to replicate the project as young as he did.

oh, he got Spidey’s attention all right. befriending and adopting an alien symbiote will do that. player 4 has joined the game.

in a different universe, Venom is co-piloted by Tim, who really does like aliens. B thinks it’s a tiny bit weird, but while Tim is tiny his alien companion is very much not. it’s extra armor.

Tim works at the Daily Bugle. nobody knows how exactly he gets the quality kind of photos he does of Gotham’s Spider-family situation, but who’s complaining? he’s just really good at his job.

in a different universe, Cassandra Cain was bitten by a spider before she even met Bruce Wayne. her mother had trained her for combat for her whole life. she couldn’t prepare her for superpowers.

B was happy to help. in a different universe, rather than Cass becoming Blackbat, she took on the alias Black Widow. watch your back for her, though. she’s got the same deadly instinct in every universe.

in a different universe, Stephanie Brown became the first Spider-Woman. of course, she wasn’t the only one, but there’s something about being the original, isn’t there?

she knows she’s funny. she thinks it’s part of the job; it feels right. she’s the closest to the average canon Spider-Man. she could’ve been recruited to the Society at any point in time. and there’s something about that too.

in a different universe, Damian Wayne was born with superpowers. he’d inherited Bruce’s from birth. Talia was quick to hand him off once she realized her baby could crawl on walls and ceilings. the Spider Cave was getting a bit crowded, but what’s one more dangerous, unpredictable, biologically enhanced child? bring it on.

aside from Hood, Tarantula is the only Spider willing to kill a man on the field. yeah, as in. bird-eating tarantula. Robin. get it?

of course, in a different universe, he still had his katana. wouldn’t be Damian Wayne without it. his favorite thing is to swing down from a skyscraper with his webs and run through bad guys like kebabs. B says it’s immoral, but who can be mad about stabbing Doc Ock’s goons?

in another universe, Duke Thomas is the most famous member of the family. he’s the other closest to canon Spider-Man. he takes the day jobs, he talks to the press, he’s the least-hated at the Daily Bugle.

his webs glow. that makes night ops harder. so he sticks to the sunlight. people started calling him the Spider-Signal. which doesn’t make a lot of sense? but Duke is the kinda guy to just kinda shrug it off, because he’s not gonna take on the entire city’s press on his own.

Miguel O’Hara stayed the bleeding hell away from this universe. this group of bats spiders were too unpredictable to have in the Spider Society at all. there were no missions there, but constant surveillance. (until. you know. Miles Morales rocked up with a proposition to take down a tyrannical system with horrible judgement and a corrupted leader. and then Miguel couldn’t ignore the Wayne family anymore.)

how I love the multiverse. endless possibilities, amirite?

(please ask me to write more for this au. drabbles. more characters. PLEASE)

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

[tortillamastersblog]

✐ Drained | Kara Danvers ✎

Pairing: Kara Danvers x spider!reader

Warnings: angst, cursing, fighting, mentions injuries, and violence

Summary: Kara solar flaring and putting herself in danger over and over again puts a strain on your already fragile relationship. . .

_______________________________________________

“Y/N?” Alex’s voice in my ear makes me flinch and if it weren’t for the fact that I can literally stick to ceilings and walls I would have slipped off the edge of the roof I’m currently standing on. “You good?”

I sigh and lift my hand to my ear. “Yes, I’m okay. Just stopped a bank robbery.”

It was a fairly easy job, considering the robbers immediately surrendered when they saw me.

“Yeah, I saw it on the news, so. . .”

“So?” I play with the mask in my hands and close my eyes, enjoying the night breeze on my face.

“Are you coming back to the tower, or are you planning on spending the rest of the night on a rooftop?” she asks, her voice full of concern. She can see where I am because of the giant digital map back at the tower. What she doesn’t know though is why I’m here. Judging by the looks she’s given me lately, she knows that something is up, but she has yet to figure out what it is.

I scoff bitterly and slip my mask back on. “It’s not like it would matter anyway.”

“What?”

I take a deep breath and swallow the hurt clawing its way up my throat. “Nothing. Forget I said anything. I’m heading back now.”

There’s a short pause on the other end of the line before Alex says, “Okay. See you in a bit then. Swing safe, little one.”

“We’re the same age, Alex, and I’m literally taller than you.” I deadpan, leaping off the building.

My stomach flutters at the feeling of the wind rushing by and for a moment I forget all about why I was brooding in the first place.

“I’m four days older than you” Alex corrects with a chuckle and I can’t help but smile under my mask as I swing through the city.

“Pff. . . tomayto, tomahto.” I swing from building to building, keeping my eyes and ears open for anything suspicious while I make my way back to the tower.

Alex laughs again, trying to convince me that four days are a significant amount of time only to stop mid sentence when an explosion across the city captures both our attention.

“What was that?” I pivot and start swinging in the direction of the explosion, my spider-senses tingling ominously. Alex ignores me, cursing under her breath and typing furiously on a computer. “Alex!”

“Y/N?” J’onn’s calm voice does nothing to assuage my worry, especially not when I can hear Alex shouting something unintelligible in the background.

“What’s happening, J’onn? What’s going on?” I shout over the noise of traffic as I swing across a bridge.

“It’s Supergirl,” he says. “She got caught in an ambush. We’ve already sent out some backup.”

Kara. . .

My heart clenches at the thought of anything happening to her and I force myself to go faster. My arms burn and I’m panting in no time, but the only thought on my mind is that I have to get to Kara before anything else happens.

“They’re never going to get there in time, J’onn! Do we know who’s responsible for this?” Caught up in my own worry, I miscalculate on of my swings, coming dangerously close to swinging into oncoming traffic.

“We don’t know any details yet, but Lena and Brainy are working on it.”

I clench my jaw and force myself to go even faster when another explosion goes off. “Any word from Kara?”

The short silence that follows gives me the answer I’m dreading before J’onn even admits that communication with Kara has been cut off.

“Fuck!” I ignore whatever else J’onn says after that and perform two powerful swing before finally getting to the docks by the river. Sweat is running down my body below the suit and my lungs are burning.

I land on top of a crane and let my eyes dart all over the place until I spot what I’m looking for.

Below me, standing in a circle around Kara in her super suit are four goons, dressed in black combat gear. They have have strange looking guns pointed at her and I realize that every time Kara uses her heat vision, the guns absorb it before shooting it back at her.

Why isn’t she flying away?!

“Nala, what’s going on down there? Why isn’t she fighting back properly?” I ask the AI in my suit, trying to figure out how best to approach this situation without putting Kara in any more danger.

Nala scans the surrounding area before reporting her findings. “I have detected traces of Kryptonite in the air.”

“Shit. . . And how many hostiles are there?” I ask, only now noticing the way the veins in Kara’s face and hands glow a faint green.

“There are four hostiles at the moment but I have detected three more incoming human heat signatures in a lead-lined truck half a mile from here. ETA forty seconds.”

I jump off the crane and swing to a nearby container closer to the ground. “Fuck! They’re going to take her!”

My heart is pounding in my ears and I know that if I don’t act right now, it’s going to be too late, but I can’t think of a plan when all I can focus on are the yelps that escape Kara every time she takes a hit.

“Thirty seconds.” Nala’s says, her robotic voice as calm and rational as ever. “If you don’t do something within the next five seconds the chances of Supergirl being taken increase from 43% to 97%”

“I know, Nala! Shut up, I’m trying to think!”

A particularly strong blow hits Kara’s side and she drops to one knee with a whimper while one of the goons pulls a pair of bulky handcuffs from his pockets.

They wouldn’t normally be able to restrain Kara, but because she’s weakened and on the brink of solar flaring right now they’ll work on her just like they do on any other human being.

“Twenty seven seconds.” Nala reminds me.

“Argh, fuck!” I’m shaking uncontrollably, not knowing what to do.

“Your time to act is running out in three—“

My eyes dart around frantically, trying to spot something that could help me distract them.

“Two—“

There’s nothing. No pipe, no crate, or anything I could fling at them.

“One—“

Before Nala can finish, I leap off the container and swing right at the group below me.

I can’t fight those goons because they’d outnumber me, so a quick getaway is my only plan of action.

“Heads up!” I shout which makes all of them look up in surprise.

At the sight of me, Kara lets out a broken sob of relief and lifts her arms like we’ve practiced a hundred times before.

She does it just in time because not even a second later I slam into her, wrapping one arm around her waist and picking her up mid swing.

“Gotcha!” I readjust my grip on her and focus on swinging us away as her arms tighten around my shoulders. “Hold on, I’m getting us out of here!”

Kara doesn’t answer. She only sobs against my neck and wraps her legs around my hips.

Well, that was easier than I thought it would—

A blow to the back of my left leg makes me howl in pain and I almost miss my next swing. I look over my shoulder and see the goons below chasing us with their guns raised and firing.

“Nala! A little help here!” I screech as I see the lead-lined truck the AI detected earlier barreling towards us.

“Calculating alternative routes. . .”

Another blast from below grazes my shoulder, making me grit my teeth. “Oh my God?! What are you? My car’s GPS?! Tell me where to go!”

I take a sharp right turn and head for the city, now finally out of range of the goon’s on foot. The lead-lined truck however has turned down the same way we did and is now hot on our tail.

I can’t get higher because all I can swing off of are these containers and I can’t go any faster because I have Kara in my arms.

That reminds me, since picking her up she hasn’t said a single thing and her grip around me has also loosened considerably.

“Nala, what’s wrong with Supergirl?” I ask, doing my best to dodge the bullets that are being fired at us from below.

“It seems the Kryptonian has passed out.”

Great, she’s solar flared. . .

I grunt and readjust her in my arm. “Is she injured?”

“Yes, but she should make a full recovery as soon as her powers have returned.”

The gunfire from below suddenly stops and when I look down I see that the truck has come to a stop in front of a superficial police barricade.

Officers are swarming the place, ducking behind car doors and aiming their guns at the truck, screaming at the goons to step out with their hands behind their head.

“J’onn.” I breathe in relief when I realize that this is the backup he mentioned earlier.

I try to get my comms device working again, having no idea when it stopped working in the first place, but it doesn’t turn back on, so I just continue making my way into the city toward the tower.

Now that the imminent threat of being shot has been eliminated though, I slow down considerably and focus on keeping my swings as smooth as possible in case Kara wakes up.

Someone squeezing my hand makes me stir in my chair. I groan and open my eyes, feeling a dull ache on my shoulder and the back of my leg where I was hit by the goons.

“Baby. . .” Kara’s soft voice makes me shoot up in my chair and when I look down at her on the bed I find her blue eyes already on me. She smiles softly and squeezes my hand again. “Hey.”

“Hi, how are you feeling?” I ask quietly. I reach forward and push the sun lamps up enough for her to sit up carefully.

“Like shit,” she admits with a small chuckle.

I scoff and let go of her hand, burying it in my lap. If she’d said that three months ago, I would have laughed and kissed the back of her hand playfully, but since then, things have changed.

Three months ago, sitting in the med bay next to Kara was a very rare occurrence. Nowadays though, it’s almost a daily occurrence.

She’s constantly taking unnecessary risks and on the off-chance that she’s not out superheroing, she stays up late at the office to finish an article, or write a news segment.

I can’t remember the last time we slept in the same bed, much less when we shared a meal together. Our relationship is barely even a relationship anymore, and tonight has honestly been my last straw.

Frowning at the way I pulled my hand out of her grasp, Kara sits up straighter. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Tears prick my eyes and I dig my fingernails into my palms. “What’s wrong?! Are you kidding me, Kara? This is the third time you’ve solar flared this week! You were almost kidnapped and I was shot twice saving you!”

“Y-You’re hurt?” She squints, presumably to use her x-ray vision on me, but then she realizes her powers have yet to return. “Are you—“

“This isn’t about me!” I cut in, my voice getting louder. “You keep putting yourself in these situations and I can’t for the life of me understand why. What’s going on with you? Why are you doing this?”

Kara gapes at me, her frown deepening. “Y/N. . .My Love . .”

I shake my head and get up, pacing at the foot of her bed. “No, Kara. I want answers. What’s going on with you? Does it have anything to do with me?” I ask, my voice shaking. “Did I do something wrong? Is that why you’re never home? Are you being reckless to prove something, or—“

“No, you didn’t do anything,” she insists. “I promise. This has nothing to do with you.”

I stop and turn to look at her. Her blue eyes are shining with tears and her chin is quivering.

“Then what is it?” I use the sleeve of the hoodie Alex gave me earlier after cleaning my wounds to wipe away my tears.

Kara clenches and unclenches her jaw as if she’s struggling to admit something. “Y/N, it’s not— I mean, you didn’t— I know things have been a lot lately, but-“ she runs a hand through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

If that isn’t the biggest lie she’s ever told then I don’t know what is. She’s a horrible liar and even if I didn’t hear the telltale sound of her heart stuttering just now, I’d still know she was lying just by seeing the guilty look on her face.

I stare at her for a moment, wondering when everything started to go this wrong between us before hanging my head low and turning to leave. “Well, I guess you better start figuring it out then because I can’t do this anymore, Kara.”

“W-What?” she stutters. I hear her trying to get up to follow me before groaning and falling back into bed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” I reach for the door handle without looking back.

“Wait!” Her voice falters and when she sniffles I have to force myself not to turn back and comfort her. “Are you. . . Are you breaking up with me?”

I swallow harshly and open the door. “No, not yet anyway.”

I leave before she can say anything else and make my way to the tower’s main room where J’onn, Alex, and Nia are sitting around the coffee table.

“Hey, are you okay?” Nia asks when she sees the distress on my face.

I just shake my head and make my way to the elevator. “No. Alex?”

The older Danvers who’s also watching me with concern gets to her feet. “Yeah?”

“Tell your sister to pull herself together,” I say before stepping onto the elevator.

I see J’onn raise an eyebrow at the interaction and share a glance with Nia before the doors slide closed.

Kara might be the one who solar flared, but I could bet a hundred bucks I’m more drained than she is right now.

This has been quite some time in the making now, and I know it’s no longer up to me how things will turn out from here on out.

It’s in Kara’s hands now and if our relationship is as important to her as it is to me, she will have to prove it.

_______________________________________________

Uh oh. . .

[riptide-pools]

LMK OCs

Lady Crimson | Fire & Brimstone AU

Character: Lady Crimson is the twin sister of Red Son. Her powers are wind element similar to Princess Iron Fan but got sealed by Lady Bone Demon from her brooch, the 'Ankh Shield'. She obtained the brooch due to Samadhi Fire Incident but she doesn't remember any memory of it.

Lord Crimson | Flames & Ashes AU

Character: Lord Crimson, similar to his female counterpart, had encountered the Samadhi Fire Incident but remembered every bits of the memory. But for him, he succumbed to the fire and brought back by LBD.

Zǐ Dīngxiāng / Rai | Celestial Gatekeeper AU

Character: Rai is the Celestial Realm's guard. To prevent any intruders from entering the Heavens. They're a Lotus Dragon, born from a dew drop from the hands of a divine being and his lotus bud bloomed into his being. He's also a student of Ne Zha.

Lang Zhu / Wolf Spider | Toxic Spindle Webs AU

Character: Zyan [human name] is an arachnid obsessed scientist. After Wolf Spider turned into one of Spider Queen's goons, he lost his humanity. He had doubts towards Mayor and his Mistress. And as he knew his hunch had been correct, he sacrificed himself to save Spider Queen from LBD, yet he failed and he perished alongside his Spider brothers.

Haiyang | Gilded Cage AU

Character: Haiyang is Mei's older sister. As the heir to the Dragon Clan, it is assumed that the Dragon Blade will be given upon her. Yet when Mei took the blade and defended the home from the Bull Clone, she had forced to accept that the destiny of the Dragon Blade won't be in her hands. Hence her not so close relationship with Mei.

[onskepa]

Sorry about what I writed earlier at my request you can delete my request but can I suggest to write a story with mother Neytiri and spider Gwen reader where she user to be abused by skypeople for her powers before she met Neytiri who took her under her wing and you can create the rest yourself because I am curios how you will end it:) but of course only if you want to.

Oooooooooooohhh spider man back to back! I love it! Okie, I have a lose idea for this. I type as I go. Hope you like it!

P.S: reader will also be able to breathe pandora air!

-------------------

Ghostly bruises

Spiders are scary creatures. Multiple legs and multiple eyes. Small yet strong. Never underestimate their size. Many carry venom and that is enough to take down anything. Their webs to lure in prey, create a home for themselves. Their eyes to see in many directions and legs to crawl faster. 

Many underestimate what they can do. What they're capable of. When push comes to shove, spiders will attack. And when they attack, you better hope that you make it out alive. They may be small, harmless, but a spider does what it does best. Lure you into their web and trap you to meet your demise. 

Your pov

“HEY! GET UP BUG!” 

Damn it. Damn it all. I just want at least 1 hour of sleep. Is that too much to ask? Apparently not for these people. 

I don't really have a choice. I should be grateful that they didn't pour cold water to wake me up. So that is something. 

Putting on that skin tight suit I wear, I get ready for another mission. 

The suit, while tight in every way, was one the few comforts I have. Personally designed it to my liking. I'm just glad they did not force me to wear what they wanted me to wear. 

Wearing all my favorite colors, and a hoodie as a plus. 

I make my way to general Ardmore. That old cranky woman. How is she not retired is beyond me. 

“Rise and shine bug, got a new mission for you” she tells me. There is always a new mission. Once I'm done with one, she quickly gives me another, leaving very little to no room for rest. Even my advanced stamina needs to recharge! 

“What is it this time?” I ask, as patient as I can. 

“An import train will be passing the valley in the south in 15 hours. If you don't know already, there is a cave the train has to pass through. Clever blues hide in the dark to amish. Your job is to cover any holes, edges, corners, and nooks with your webs. You have 10 hours to get it done. We don't want any surprises” 

Is she serious?

“10 hours? Do you have any idea how large that cave is? I will be dry within 5!” I argue. 

Ardmore just rolls her eyes, that bitch. 

“Not my problem. Get to it, now” 

“Now hold on there-AAARRGGHH!!” I felt that familiar electrical hit on my back. Falling on my side, I see her goons got that shock stick. They continue to shock me, my sides, neck, hip. They love to torment me. 

“Get up bug, I don't want you wasting time” 

“Y-yes ma’am” I said weakly. 

I hate sounding weak. It only enforces their view on me. A bug, a mere insect they can step on. 

Third pov 

There was a tip given from the science guys that a train would pass through the starlight cave. Within a few hours it would pass but the steam the train releases would damage the nocturne creatures living in that cave. They were rare creatures as their way of life is rather fragile. Anything can easily ruin their environment and their lives. 

Neytiri took the stand to lead a group of warriors to protect the cave and set up traps before the train would even make an appearance. Neytiri was not afraid, she would trample down any machine or demon that dares to hurt her planet. 

This mission would be no different. 

Norm said they had only a limited time to set up defense areas and traps. So no time is to be wasted. 

So neytiri goes with some trusted warriors. 

Upon arriving at the cave, there was already the sight of sky demons. Lying low, neytiri and the other na’vi would silently scatter as they took aim at the entrance of the cave. 

From what they can see, 6 humans were guarding the entrance, from time to time turning around to talk to someone that was inside. So there were more. Its fine. 

Neytiri has taken down hundreds within minutes. This would be nothing. 

“HEY BUG! GO FASTER ON THOSE WEBS!” one of the humans shouted. 

Two of them muttered to each other, grinning in a sickening way. Then two of the 6 guards went inside the cave while pulling out two electrical rods. 

Neytiri hates those rods. She has been hit with those once, never again does she want to feel that painful experience. Seeing them again, she wonders who will be receiving the end of those shocks. 

Shaking her head, she signals the other na’vi to strike. 

Pulling back her bow, neytiri takes aim, and like a silent rain, all arrows landed perfectly onto their targets. Good, 4 down, few more to go. 

Signaling the other warriors to go inside the cave, Neytiri runs towards the entrance. She notices there is a small light blue flickering light deep in the cave. Along with evil laughter and someone screaming. They sounded to be in so much pain. Not wasting another second neytiri and the other na’vi ran further into the cave and saw a horrific sight. 

The two humans use their electrical rods to shock and torture a young person. They laugh as they poke the person around. Clearlying enjoying the person's suffering. 

“STOP IT!! STOP IT!!!” It sounded like a young girl. Her voice cracking, trying to get away from the two humans but they only get closer. 

“COME ON BUG! GET BACK TO WORK!” one of them shouts, aiming for her wrists. 

Her whole body shakes, unable to say any words of protest. 

Neytiri couldn't handle to hear the painful screams anymore, letting out a war cry she aimed right at the heart of the human who brings pain to the young girl. With one swift move, the arrow went right through, making the first human fall to the side, bleeding out. 

The second human didnt react in time as one of the other na’vi shot their arrow through the human’s head, an instant kill. 

The rods fell from their grips, neytiri kicks them away. 

“See if there are anymore” she says, the other na’vi comply and scatter for any more humans. 

Looking down at poor girl, neytiri oddly couldn't help but feel terrible for her. Looking at her body frame, she looks to be very young. 

The girl was in a fetal position, her arms sprawled out, her wrists having terrible bruises. And not just the wrist, her face filled with scars and more bruises. Neytiri can tell she went through some terrible things. 

“Mawey…” she whispers, reaching down to touch the girl but hears a whisper. 

“Please….no more….I cant…” was all the girl said before she passed out. 

Neytiri looks at her, after witnessing what the other humans have done, she cant let the girl be alone. Who knows what she has been through, and what more she could go through if more humans come soon. So making a quick decision, neytiri gently picks up the girl, cradling her like she would with her other children. 

“Neytiri, there are no more but we noticed something” one of the na’vi returns to report to neytiri. 

“What is it?” she asks. 

“There are white strands on the other end of the cave. They feel a bit sticky, and light. Almost like the kinglor silk, but different. We don't know what it is or what animal could cause it”. 

Neytiri wants to take the girl back to the village, but there is a goal to meet. 

“Come, we will return to the village for more help” she says 

Your pov 

I woke up strangely on something soft. Like cotton. No one screamed to wake me up. I felt well rested. Scanning my area, it looks like Im in a tent. I can see the sunlight peaking in, unfamiliar smells I never smelled before. Most of all, its noisy, but not a bad noisy. I can hear distant animals, vague chatter, leaves brushing against each other. 

Clearly, I'm not at the RDA base. 

I dont remember what happened, just that I was webbing one side of the cave and then- 

Oh. 

Thats right. 

Steve and Greg were torturing me again. Using the rods to poke at me. They must have been that bored if guarding the entrance to the cave was easy. 

That still doesnt explain how I am here. 

“Oh good, you are awake, I was worried” 

A female voice spoke, slow english words but with a heavy accent. 

I turned to see a na’vi. Oh my god. 

She was so tall! Like really, really tall! 

“Its alright, I am not going to hurt you. My name is neytiri” the na’vi tells me. Keeping a distance between us. 

Is this really happening right now? 

Third pov 

Neytiri really didn't understand why she brought the young human into her village. After explaining to her mother what she witnessed, mo’at believed it was good that neytiri saved the young girl. They know humans don't treat their own kind well. 

Yet neytiri can't help but feel slightly skeptical about the girl. When the girl was passed out, she observed the girl in great detail. From the odd clothing she was wearing which almost looked like a second skin, to her mask, her stature, everything. 

Using herbal medicines, thankfully the nasty bruises were fading but her complexion seemed pale, not a healthy pale. As if she hasn't been exposed to the outside world that much. 

So many questions neytiri wants to ask, some no doubt would be sensitive to ask the young girl. She can wait, for now she just wants to treat the girl, no mattering why the need to do it. 

Is it her motherly instincts perhaps? 

Neytiri worries for her children a lot, especially her youngest. Maybe it is projection as her husband would say. Who knows, what she does know is that the girl is safe from those who harmed her. 

Your pov

“Are you feeling alright?” the na’vi asks me. 

I guess I didnt respond fast enough, still trying to process what I am looking at. 

“I…um…wait, you speak english?” I ask. 

The na’vi nods, smiling a bit. 

“Yes, I know how to speak it. I was taught very young” 

I honestly don't know much about na'vi. I have only seen a handful and most exposure I get is from the newly awakened recom avatars. 

“W-why am I here?” I hesitantly ask. Hoping she doesn't end me or hurt me any further. 

“I saw you getting hurt, they laughed at your pain. I had to stop it” she tells me. 

Looking down at my hands, remembering the cave. 

Wait, the cave! 

Quickly I got up, walking a bit wobbly towards her. She has to know! 

“A train! There will be a large train machine going through the cave! Its going to carry a lot of weapons and other things!!” I said rather a bit fast. 

She holds me tightly so that I dont fall, seeing the comparison of my arm to her hand, she can easily pick me up like a doll if she wanted to. 

“Yes, we know. Thank you for telling me. We will put traps to stop it from going” 

I shake my head, “no no, they will surround the train with shooters! They wanted me to also set traps and cover the cave! They don't want anything to interrupt it! Please! I don't know how much time has passed but its going to arrive soon!” I plead. 

Urgency was all I felt and thought of. Ardmor would kill me if she knew I was spilling their plans to the na’vi. At this point, I dont care, if the na’vi can stop the train, it would piss off ardmore, something I would love to see. 

“Cover? What do you mean cover?” the na’vi asks. 

Oh god, do I tell her? I already confessed a big chunk. 

“D-dont…dont freak out ok? I can do this….I raise my wrist, aiming at the tent pole and shot out a web string. 

Third pov 

Neytiri has never seen any human do that. Ever. 

It was the same thing the warriors found in the cave. And it comes out of her arms?? 

“I have…powers. I can shoot these things called webs. They are strong, sticky, and durable. I can do things no human can. At the cave, the RDA wanted me to use my webs to make traps and clear the way for the train” the girl explains. 

Neytiri slowly nods, taking in this newfound information. 

In her conclusion, the humans were using her like a tool. What happened at the cave, clearly the girl isnt saying a whole lot more. They probably dont see her as an equal in their species. 

“I hated doing it….please dont take me back! Please, I can help! I can show you what more I can do but please dont send me to the others!” the girl begs. Tears ready to fall from her eyes. 

“Sshhh….its alright, I won't sent you anywhere you dont like” neytiri comforts the girl. Bringing her in for a tight embrace. She is so small, so thin. Do they starve her? Restrict her food access? 

“You are safe here. I won't make you do things you dont like. My home can be your new home if you like” neytiri offers. 

The girl looks up at her, hope twinkling in her eyes. 

“R-really?” 

Third pov

“This is ghost. I have my eyes on the target, they are closing in” the young girl whispers into her mic. Observing RDA soldiers walking through the forest.

She stands upside down from a tall tree branch, a web sling already out stretched to move to the next tree.

“They are making their way to the spot” she reports. She swings to the other tree, landing with no sound. Eagerly she sees the soldiers walking right into her trap.

6 soldiers walking on foot, 10 in their new AMP suits.

Easy.

One of the soldiers stepped on the trigger, the ground they stood on was false as a camouflage cover moved to reveal spikes at the bottom. The soldiers fell into their deaths. Arrows began to fly towards the amp suits just as they were shooting at random.

She can see her fellow na’vi moving around in the foliage to avoid the bullets. That is her cue.

Swinging around in circles, the girl shoots at the glass windows and the guns. Covering their vision and aim. But she does more, carefully she aims her webs at the foot of the amp suits so that they dont move, some tripping themselves.

“GO GO GO!” she shouts, the na’vi aims their arrows at the windows of the suits, going straight through the humans that were inside. While a lot, the fight lasted a few minutes with her and the na’vi winning this fight.

Landing down, the girl looks for anything salvageable to bring back home.

“Well done my daughter”

Smiling, the girl turns to her mother, neytiri.

“Thank you my child, however I would prefer if you just stayed home,” neytiri says as she places a kiss on the girls head.

“Im fine mom, besides, with my webs, we took them down way faster. Plus, no one got shot. Less injures and more success”

While that was true, neytiri knows some raids or fights remind her daughter of her past.

“I understand, but I cannot help but worry for you. Those machines almost got you” she tells.

“Almost, but I am fast”

Chuckling, neytiri holds her daughter close, “yes, you are very fast my love”

The girl happily basks in her mothers embrace. She likes this, being held, it never gets old. Since that day, the girl loves physical affection, her new mother proves abundance and never rejects her.

Life has been easy for her, enjoyable and makes her look forward to tomorrow. Yes, the girl would sometimes think back on her past. The things she went through, at times she can feel the phantom pains from her tortures. Would rub her arms or face where the bruises used to be. But its less now.

The girl loves her new life and is forever thankful of her mother saving her. Having a new family, love, a home, it is all she ever wanted. To hell with Ardmore and her plans with the RDA. The girl for sure cant wait to see that old hag and rub it on her face. That she is more than a tool, than a bug. Ghost is more than Ardmore can ever know.

Aaaaaaaaand that is all for this one! Hopefully I managed to get as much gwen personality as I can. Kinda tricky ngl, but either way, I kinda struggled how to end it but I hope you all enjoyed! Until next time! See ya!

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 124 }

joy.

peter parker x fem.reader

10 stages of love

notes: unedited; post no way home; no one remembers that peter parker is spidey; both the reader and peter are in their second year of university.

{ joy is the coldest lover i know | only because she never comes }

1. first sight

lab had kept you on campus for far longer than usual, and it was nearing midnight when you completed your research with your professor, dr. kingsley.

he kindly asks if you would like for him to walk you home, but you declined his offer, saying that it was best for him to head back home to his wife, that you would be just fine by yourself. after all, you had no reason to be afraid, since you went home alone almost every night.

despite how new york city was known to be a dangerous place, you considered yourself quite lucky to have never faced any problems or issues during your walk back to your apartment.

perhaps it's thanks to that vigilante... what was his name again? wait, it was spider-man.

as you crossed the darkened streets of the city, you allow your mind to wander, thinking back to all those videos you saw plastered all over the internet. lately, there's been sighting of a young man swinging around new york, dressed in a skin-tight suit that bore the motif of a spider.

whenever you could see him clearly from the video's blurry screen, you realize that his form was quite lean and lithe, and you figured that he was a hero that was just starting out. during your free time, you find yourself browsing through youtube and tiktok, just to see if anyone had caught any further sightings of spider-man.

the sound of some rowdy laughter makes you stop in your tracks, and you saw a group of guys standing on the sidewalk, blocking your usual path home. you purposely took a step back, not wanting to draw their attention as you turned around to search for an alternative way home.

with your hair whipping in the cold wind, a sudden whistle causes the hairs to stand from the back of your neck. "whoa, hey babygirl, you lost or somethin'?"

ignoring their catcalls, you quicken your pace-

only to bolt out into a run upon hearing their footsteps chasing after you.

their laughter was heard intensifying, taking absolute pleasure in your panic and fear. the weight of your bag that carried your school belongings was weighing you down, and you half considered tossing it at them to make a clear getaway-

but when you found yourself suddenly trapped, with all three men surrounding you, there was a feeling of despair felt in the pit of your stomach.

"p-please, just let me go, i'll give you all the money that i have."

"come on, don't be so scared and shy. we don't want your money, we just wanna have some fun with you."

you brace yourself, ready to scream for dear life when a rich chuckle was heard coming from just a few feet away from you.

"didn't your mothers ever told you assholes how to treat a lady right?"

your throat felt dry when your would-be attackers stopped gaining up on you, facing whoever spoke in that cocky tone as you saw spider-man standing before you.

it was undeniable that it was him, with the suit and all. his mask was all that was seen as he tilts his head to look at you. the three goons talk amongst themselves, not believing that this was the real spider-man as the quickly gained up on him.

"come on, there's no way this guy's the real deal, it's just some poser lookin' to get laid by 'saving' her."

you gasp, taking a step back once punches were thrown, and spidey dodged every single one of them. he manages to grab one of their arms and twist it back, kicking him away as another one tried to tackle him from the front.

being distracted by the two thugs, spidey was unaware of the third one, coming at him with a blade shining in his hands.

"spider-man, watch out!"

your warning came a second too late as the man manages to slash at spider-man's left arm. you hear him let out a hiss of pain before kicking the knife away. with your mind racing, you look onwards to see spidey managing to detain all three of the guys miraculously, even with his injured arm.

with your heart felt pounding within the confines of your chest, you look at spider-man, seeing him continuing to grip at his injured arm all while meeting your gaze from beneath his mask.

"are you okay?" spidey's voice was gentle, and you mentally cursed, jinxing yourself for ever believing that you could spend all your days remaining safe while in the dangerous city of new york.

2. introduction

"you're hurt." you ignored how shaky your voice came out, coming closer to spidey as you gingerly touched at his injured arm.

he replies to your statement with a strained laugh, "it's alright, i've experienced a pain much worse than this." the way his voice cracked near the end sent a sudden sharp pain within your chest, but you quickly ignored the feeling as you coaxed him to follow you home.

"wait, it's okay, i don't need any help...!"

"i'm not letting you say no, spidey. i have to help you or else... i won't ever forgive myself if anything bad happens to you. what if your arm gets infected and you get sick?"

your words manage to silence the young vigilante, making you break out into a tiny smile. "just... let me do this for you as a thank you, for saving me."

you see spidey give you a gentle nod, and you continue to lead him back to your apartment complex. the walk was relatively peaceful and silent now, and thanks to how late it was, not a soul was even awake enough to witness you taking spidey into your apartment.

you gesture at him to wait on your couch as you head to the bathroom and search for some neosporin ointment, cotton, and a roll of bandages. it wasn't much, but you hoped it would be enough to help out spidey and his pain.

returning back to him, you kneel on the ground and ask him to take his arm out of his suit. spidey remains silent, simply giving you a nod before freeing his arm. seeing the fresh cut on the side of his bicep, you apply the ointment on the cotton before gently dabbing at the wound. a light hiss escapes from spidey, and you softly apologize for hurting him.

"the cut isn't too deep, but it'll take some time to heal." once the ointment was placed over the wound did you finally wrap the bandage around it, making sure it was completely covered before sitting back with a laugh.

"perfect. i'm no doctor or paramedic, but i'm sure that you'll be healed in no time, spidey."

you hear him let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward as he reaches out to you with his uninjured hand. "if you don't mind me asking, what's your... what's your name?"

you blink up at him, finding yourself leaning into his touch when you tell him your name. spidey repeats those syllables, making your heart flutter even more at the sound.

a few moments pass, with neither of you saying a word. as if awakening from a trance, spider-man backs away from you, adjusting his suit once more when he places his injured arm back inside of it.

he coughs, standing back to his full height as he walks over to your fire escape. "uhm, thanks for helping me. i-i gotta go, so-"

"wait...!" you call out to him, your voice sounding hopeful as you prayed that he would tell you his true name.

"what's your name...if you don't mind me asking?"

you wait with bated breath, seeing spider-man still hanging from your open window. and even though you couldn't see him, somehow, you knew that he was smiling from beneath the mask.

"you can call me peter."

with that final phrase, spider-man left your apartment, and you knew that you would never be the same after such a fated meeting.

3. interaction

you were distracted, and you knew that you were.

but you couldn't help it.

you could not stop thinking about him-

about spider-man / peter.

despite your troubled thoughts, you did your best to remain completely and utterly normal throughout the entirety of your classes. yet none of your professors caught on to your less-than-optimal state. it wasn't until you went to do research with dr. kingsley that your inability to focus was made to be achingly obvious.

dr. kingsley calls out your name with concern, "are you alright? there's something going on with you, since you spent the last hour reviewing data we had already completed weeks ago."

upon realizing that your professor was right, you felt your blood turn ice cold. looking back at the desktop's screen, you chew at your bottom lip, upset that you had wasted so much time. "i'm sorry, dr. kingsley, l-let me pull up the right file and-"

"no no, i insist that you go home now." his voice was gentle when he takes a hold of your arm and forces you to stand up. "classes are getting tougher now that midterms are right around the corner, and i realize that it may have been selfish of me to require you to do all this work. tell you what, you may come back and do research with me after your midterms are complete. are we clear?"

"yes sir." you grab all of your belongings together, shooting a grateful expression at him. "thank you for your understanding, and i promise, i'll be back soon!"

dr. kingsley merely gives you a wave, wishing you luck on your midterms before going back to his lab. with a sigh, you head out of the building, craving for something warm and sweet to cheer you up. as you walked across campus, you felt the hairs standing at the back of your neck-

you look behind you to see a boy around your age standing several feet away from you. his features were indiscernible, but you figured it was just another student.

but just in case...

without glancing back, you dart away from the concrete path and into the grass, making a shortcut towards your university's café.

but when you heard footsteps still following you, you had a hunch that it was the same boy with brown hair. with a click of your tongue, you run towards one of the campus buildings, keeping yourself pressed against the wall in hopes of hiding yourself from him.

why does the world feel like messing with me all the time? first it was those three goons, and now this totally random guy was chasing after you.

when you caught sight of his brown hair was when you made your move, tackling him from the side as he landed to the ground with a grunt.

anger was felt sizzling through your veins as you glared down at the guy, only to feel it simmer down. the boy that fell to the ground looked... soft, achingly soft. he had matching, coffee brown eyes and full lips that were painted in a frown, still in pain. he struggles to get up, yet when you looked towards his left arm, you saw something that made your blood freeze up even further.

it was a bandage wrapped around his left bicep, letting you know just who this guy was.

"peter?"

he lets out a nervous laugh, standing back to his full height while brushing back his hair. "y-yeah. here and in the flesh... i didn't think we went to the same university."

4. attraction

your mind was spinning, unable to comprehend or even believe that spider-man was actually here. you couldn't believe that he was revealing yourself to you like this.

"come with me."

you quickly grab on to peter's arm, leading him towards the café while trying to hold back the heat that was threatening to dye your cheeks. for starters, you weren't expecting spider-man to be so cute, with his doe eyes and full lips parted in a half grin-

he was totally the type you would go for.

but one thing was bothering you-

why was he so willing to reveal himself as the spider-man to you? wasn't the whole point of being a vigilante to keep your superhero identity a secret?

so just why did peter basically out himself to you?

with the café in sight, you enter with peter in tow, making a beeline towards the further table in the back. letting go of his arm, you take a seat across from peter at the table, with you looking around to make sure no one would hear you or listen in.

"is it really you, spidey?" you ask peter in hushed tones, with him answering you with a nod.

you look back to his arm, "does it still hurt?"

peter shrugs while smiling at you, "it's nothing a little ibuprofen can't fix. i'm fine."

relief was felt coursing through you, "that's great!" you tell him before clearing your throat, wishing to ask him this specific question, "listen, i just wanted to reassure you that your secret is safe with me, b-but i was just wondering, isn't it better to keep your identity hidden from anyone? w-why did you basically confirm that you and spider-man were the same person?"

peter gives you a deprecating smile, "you're a smart girl, much smarter than you let on..." he thrums his fingers against the table, as if searching for the right words to say.

after a few moments of silence, peter speaks once more. "i don't know, i guess i was just... tired to keeping this a secret. i didn't want anyone else i cared about get hurt from my dishonesty so... so i came clean to you right from the start."

he closes his eyes before leaning forward, placing his hand over yours. peter opens his eyes once more as a deep pain was seen settled within his gaze.

"i already lost everyone that once meant the world to me, and i guess i just wanted something to change, that's all."

peter gives you yet another smile, but this one was much softer, much kinder as he kept his gaze on you. with you sitting with peter, you felt as though you were the only two people in the world, allowing the strange warmth to take over as a new emotion began to blossom deep within your chest.

5. date

you were currently finishing up your essay when a series of knocks were heard coming from your front door. taking out your headphones, you stopped playing the music from your phone and went to answer the door.

but what you weren't expecting was to see peter parker himself standing in front of you with a bouquet of daisies in his hand. you take a step back, feeling the familiar warmth gracing your cheeks as you called out to him.

"p-peter, what's this?"

ever since your first meeting, you and peter had started becoming closer as friends. of course, you couldn't deny that you had one of the biggest crushes on him, but there was no way in hell you were admitting that to him.

sure, you had some study dates here and there, but this was the first time you saw peter standing outside of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. and he was dressed kind of nicely, too, ditching that plain t-shirt for a sweater that fit him to perfection with a dark pair of jeans, completing his overall look with a pair of converses.

"hey, i-i was hoping you'd like to... go on a date with me...?" his words came out a bit slow, and you could practically see the anxiety shining within his eyes. he was afraid of rejection, but little did he know that you would never deny this chance to get closer to him.

"like, a date date? a real date?"

that's when peter flashes you a genuine smile, "yeah, a real date."

you look behind you, seeing your essay still displayed on your computer screen as you quickly ignored it, setting it aside to complete at a later date.

because there was no way you were going to say no to going on an actual date with peter parker.

6. holding hands

peter ends up taking you to a movie with a dinner afterwards. the date was completely casual, and you found yourself having the time of your life.

the sky had long darkened as stars littered across the expanse of the universe. your heart felt peaceful while you walked with peter.

"so... the city is not in need of any saving?"

your question earns a chuckle from peter. "nope, not tonight. i think the police can handle all the petty crime seen around the city for once."

you laugh with him, playfully running your hips against him as peter gave you a feign expression of pain. he rejoins you in your laughter, but this time, taking your hand.

this wasn't exactly the first time you had held hands together, but the emotion remained the same. the touch was so soft and benign, void of any urgency the moment peter interlocks his fingers together with yours. he smiles down at you, with you doing the same as you decided to walk closer to him.

keeping you by his side, peter takes your hand to press his lips against your knuckles, filling you with a sudden joy you weren't sure you had felt in a long time.

all you knew was that you never wished for this feeling, or this night, to ever end.

7. first kiss

you and peter spent the next couple of hours just walking around the city, talking about your lives and how you grew up.

you had parents who loved you, but desired to be a bit more independent, hence why you attended a university a bit further away from home.

peter didn't have anyone that was close to him anymore, telling you that his aunt had passed away a couple of years ago, that his death still stung him to this day.

you knew that this was just another part of peter that he was afraid of showing; the one who truly had lost everything within a blink of an eye. after he admits to how lonely he was to you, the silence returned, but only because the pain and empathy you felt for him was so raw that you didn't truly know what to say.

so you spent the next couple of minutes walking back home in silence, with peter still holding hands with you. with your lips pursed, you gently gave peter's hand a squeeze, catching his attention as he meets your gaze.

he gives you another tiny smile, squeezing your hand back in reply.

time goes by in a blur, and you found yourself standing in front of your apartment. peter remains silent, but you could see how shiny his eyes had become, alerting you to how he was having a difficult time holding back his emotions.

not saying a word, you take a hold of his face, framing it with your two hands. he looks at you, allowing a single tear to fall from his eyes before leaning in to softly kiss him.

he gasps, feeling him let out a slight hiccup before kissing you back. you allowed your lips to slot perfectly against his, tasting the saltiness of his tears when you deepened the kiss.

after a few seconds, you pull away from the kiss, gently caressing at peter's skin when you ask, "do you wish to spend the night here, with me?"

peter remains silent, merely wrapping his arms around you as he hugged your form even tighter to him, never daring to let you go as you invited him into the comfort of your apartment.

8. relationship

your relationship with peter was something that was still growing, yet already there was some rockiness felt along the way.

for starters, peter had gone back to his vigilante duties, often leaving you on read each time you would send him a text to check on him. but regardless of how his silence and distance hurt you, you knew it was only because peter was busy saving people.

but that didn't make it any easier.

each night, you found yourself aching for his presence, with all of your texts piling up with each day. you knew peter could see each and every one of them, but had yet to make an effort to even call or text you back.

truth be told, you were hurt. couldn't peter spare you even just a few minutes of his time? can't he call you so you could talk; so you could hear the sound of his voice? and why, whenever you search for him on campus, was he always nowhere to be found?

why did he feel so far away now, when things haven't even begun?

as the days morph into weeks, you decided to burn the sadness that was felt in the pit of your heart. you turned that sadness into anger, stopping all of your contact with peter as you went on with your life.

if he wants to give up on our relationship, then fine. it's better now when we're barely a few months in than suffer in the longterm.

thanks to your spite, you end up blocking his number, cutting off all contact with him. you refused to allow the guilt to fester within the pit of your stomach and tried to move on.

it continued on like this for a few more days, with you feeling the tiniest bit better without having to stress about peter and what he was doing. even if you were still hurting, you wouldn't force yourself to go through such unnecessary pain ever again.

and just when you were so confident that you could do this; could leave peter at a blink of an eye-

it all came crashing back down on you.

when you came home, you expected your apartment to be empty-

not to see peter parker himself settled on your couch with the utmost look of defeat on his face. he was still dressed as spider-man, and you were left flabbergasted, unable to react or respond as you looked from him to the sight of your open window, the one that lead out to your fire escape.

"get out, right now, just what the fuck are you even doing here?" you spat out with as much venom as you could muster, only to wince when peter's head fell.

"i'm sorry, you have every right to be mad at me, b-but, i can't do it. i can't let you go."

peter sounded like he was going to cry again, and the sound of his pain was enough to push you forward.

"peter..."

"i know that my life is a fucking mess, that everyone is probably better off without me. i realized that i was being selfish when i tried pursuing a relationship with you."

"b-but, i was so happy being with you that i forgot all about that. all i wanted was to fall deeper for you, but my stupid thoughts prevented me from making you happy. i'm just... so scared all the time."

feeling your own tears welling up within your eyes, you come closer to him and join him on the couch, wrapping your arms around him as you allowed your lips to brush against his unruly locks of hair.

"it's okay... it's okay. i get it, i do... all you need to do is just... trust me, peter." peter then clings to you, hiding his face within the curve of your neck while letting out a sigh of your name.

"it's just... you won't ever forget about me, right?"

"never ever."

you seal your promise to him with a sweet kiss, knowing now that you could never leave this boy with a heart of gold behind at all.

9. love

you and peter both lay back in bed, with you resting your head against his chest. you simply spent the entire day basking in each other's presence. as you listened to the gentle beating of his heart, you reach out to grab a hold of his hand, linking his fingertips together with yours before giving it a squeeze.

peter let's out a soft chuckle, taking a hold of your hand to press a lingering kiss at the back of it.

after you and peter finally communicated about your mutual feelings, you came to a mutual understanding. with your relationship growing stronger, you knew that you could never truly leave peter, that this boy who lost everything deserved to have a happy ending for once in his life.

as if reading your thoughts, peter takes a hold of your chin and leans closer to you, giving you a kiss that made your mind turn blank. you end up relishing the warm that he exuded, kissing him back with as much fervor to show him how you truly felt.

he pulls away first, staring deeply into your eyes while tracing at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

"i've never felt so happy before... i can proudly say that this is the first time i have felt so much joy in my life-

"and it's all thanks to you, i love you." peter completes his statement by pressing yet another searing kiss against your lips, the sensation of it all enough to make your heart burst with happiness in response.

"oh peter parker, i love you, too."

as you and peter continued to lay in bed together, you knew that sharing this type of life with him would not be an easy one-

but you loved him enough to try, knowing that it was all going to be worth it in the end.

10. commitment

peter held your hand, leading you to the graveyard with a solemn expression on his face. knowing that this was an important day for him, you remain silent, just keeping your hand interlocked with his as you prayed that this would be enough to ease his pain.

you follow him throughout the cemetery, only stopping when he stands in front of a gravestone. he was silent, giving you a moment to read what was engraved:

here lies may parker...

"hey may, it's been a while." peter's voice breaks, and he sharply inhales before continuing, still giving your hand a tight squeeze. "i just wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry about me anymore..."

"i know how i told you about ned and michelle forgetting all about me, and for the longest time, i was stuck in such a deep darkness, one that i wasn't even sure i could even get out of."

"but... i ended up escaping that darkness, and it's all thanks to her." peter looks over at you with true love shining within his eyes. "i met her due to certain circumstances, and i was so happy i was able to protect you that night."

you could feel your tears forming, but no words would come out, instead, you mouthed the word i love you to him, basking in his sweet smile.

"i just wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry anymore, may. that i found someone who truly is my soulmate, who makes me happier than anyone in this world."

peter looks away from you briefly to stare at the bright morning sun, "so if you're up there, please know that i am happy now."

no words were spoken, but you swore you felt the sun warming your body as a gentle wind goes through your hair, the sensation making you let out a soft giggle as the sound catches peter's attention. he looks down at you with his own grin, saying your name when he reaches down to touch at your lips.

and as you were caught in his embrace, you were unaware of how brightly your golden wedding bands shone from beneath the intensity of the sunlight.

a.n. - it's been roughly 2 and a half years since no way home's release, and i was finally able to write a comfort fic for peter parker 🥹 he deserves his happy ending.

i apologize for any errors in this story, but i hope you readers enjoy this anyways.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

prompt drabble series - nonverbal ways to say ‘i love you’

16 - sending them photo updates of what you’re doing

prompts from promptingyou

PAIRING: insomniac!peter parker x gn!baker!reader

TAGS: peter’s pov, fluff, idiots in love, pre spider-man 1 (essentially fisk hasn’t been taken down yet and all the sad shit that followed soon after), reader knows pete is spidey, matt murdock mention (sort of?)

A/N: honestly any version of peter works too but i’ve fixated back onto the games so insomniac!peter was who i envisioned while writing this. i also apparently don’t know what other trope to write besides established relationships or idiots in love… anyways, happy reading <3 

WORD COUNT: 551

masterlist || request box <3

“Working on it, Yuri! Call you when I’m done,” he managed to get out as he fought Fisk’s goons. It was hard enough fighting off bad guys that seemed to never end, but to have someone in his ear telling him to hurry up when he was working as fast as he could got infuriating at a certain point.

As he webbed up someone to the wall, he rolled his neck and groaned. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do?” Just as he sent a goon flying upwards, his mask’s UI lit up.

Incoming Message: Y/N 💖

Immediately after, a photo flashed. It was a picture of the cake you made for a kid’s birthday party—a Spider-Man themed birthday party. It was round and had red and blue fondant with black piping to imitate the webs across his suit. At the very center was his white logo and a tiny sign wishing the kid a happy birthday.

Peter smiled at the sight but was immediately interrupted by his spider sense, causing him to jump up as he dodged gunfire. Before long, all the bad guys were webbed up, their weapons thrown far, far away from their reach. Swinging away, he looked for a good place to stop to send you a message back. As he flipped through the air, he realized what building he was near. Bingo.

Running up the side of the building, a smile returned to his face in anticipation. As soon as he was perched up at the very top of the building, he carefully took out his phone and posed. Satisfied with the way it turned out, he hit send and waited for a response. He didn’t have to wait long.

Y/N 💖: 😨 how you can get up that high amazes me Y/N 💖: be safe love u ❤️

Your message made his heart warm. If he wasn’t at the top of the Empire State building and his mask wasn’t on, the entirety of New York City would see how red his face got.

In a lovesick haze, he leaned back, letting gravity pull him back down to earth but even then, he felt like he was in heaven. You were only his best friend, but Pete had been in love with you since you two met. Of course, he was too shy to say anything in fear of losing you completely. Swinging through the streets, he eventually made it to where your little bakery was set up in Hell’s Kitchen.

“Spider-Man,” you greeted, your eyes softening at the sight of him. “And what brings our Friendly Neighborhood hero to my neck of town?” Your voice was soft as you spoke but backed with a teasing tone.

“Just making sure no one’s messing with my favorite baker,” he grinned.

“Don’t worry, I know there’s a pretty good lawyer down the block if I’m ever in a pickle,” you bantered.

His chest filled with joy at the mere sight of you. And that smile. He’d die happy knowing he was the one who put it there. At the sounds of police sirens, you both turned your heads in the direction they came from. “Looks like you’re needed elsewhere, Spidey.”

“See you around,” he beamed, cheerfully saluting before shooting a web and swinging off.

[rwac96]

What happens when Spider-Arc meets Glynda when chasing Roman? How does that first meeting go?

"Oh, this is brilliant," Roman Torchwick said with sarcasm, firing at the pursuing vigilante with his cane. "Get this freak off our tail!" He hollered to his men, who charged towards the costumed figure.

Spider-Man ducks and dodges the gunfire from those armed, shooting webbing at their guns and jamming them. Shooting a web-line, Spidey performs a kick swing on one of them, hurling him onto his colleagues. As the yellow & black hero continued to fight Torchwick's goons, he noticed a violet glow, levitating those not engaged in combat. His Spider-Sense goes off, realizing that it is a Hunter.

"We got a Huntress!" Roman warned the pilot of his get-a-way copter, a grey-haired youth Mercury around the young hero's age. "Step on it!"

"You're not my dad," the pilot said with attitude, beginning to steer the flying vehicle from the two as Spider-Man apprehends the henchmen that were left behind.

"Thanks for the assist," Spider-Man said, then found himself being lifted from the ground. "H-Hey!"

"As honorable as your intentions are," Glynda Goodwitch said, pointing her riding crop at the masked hero, "your reckless vigilantism helps no one!"

"Oh, c'mon!" Spidey groaned, "I stopped them from robbing that Dust Shop! Besides, they're webbed up!"

"I'm sure you'll explain yourself thoroughly with the police and Ozpin," Glynda says, bringing the hero closer to her.

"Well, sorry for this in advance," like drawing a gun from a classic Western movie, Spidey shoots a web-ball at Glynda, to splatter onto her eyes.

This caused Glynda to lose concentration, causing her to drop the yellow & black garbed hero. He made a mad dash for the edge of the roof and hopped off, shooting a web-line and fleeing the scene. He mentally kicked himself, and now has likely made himself a target for Vale's Hunters.

'Good going, Jaune,' the masked blonde thought to himself, 'you've really mucked up any goodwill you had with any Hunters.'

[baenyth]

We need more Danganronpa characters as evil groups, but not the Ultimate Despair or its remnants. Too abstract. Too bland. Fuck despair. Fuck Junko. I'm either killing her off or she doesn't exist. Danganronpa villain groups completely distanced from the Ultimate Despair:

Makoto Naegi is the charismatic head of a dictatorship. Perhaps he believes this is what's best for the world. Or he just wants a throne to sit on. This is an alternative timeline, maybe he's evil here. Either way, he managed to rope in his 14 other classmates into joining him in his empire. Byakuya uses the Togami Corporation to clench Makoto's rule and fund projects wherever he can. He's also a consultant, alongside Yasuhiro Hagakure. Kyoko Kirigiri is the head of the espionage department, with Chihiro as the second-in-command and head of data management. Kiyotaka manages the police force, acting as judge, jury, and executioner. Mondo, Sakura, Aoi, and Mukuro all work in Makoto's army. Sayaka, Leon, Hifumi, and Toko work in the entertainment (or in other words, propaganda,) division. Genocider is allowed to kill any pretty boys the espionage department lets her. Celestia rules over her own chunk of land as gothic lolita queen and is arguably the loosest link, but ultimately still abides by Makoto's laws.

The Danganronpa V3 cast has been corrupted into animalistic monsters, think Steven Universe. Gonta's body has been converted into a flying hive for all manner of bugs, all sorts of flyers coming from his eyesockets and mouth carrying centipedes, spiders, and other flightless bugs so they all can feed and bring food back to the husk that was once a gentleman. Kirumi now resembles a marble statue with a blindfold over her eyes and a clock on her backside, where her four arms and four legs move in orderly, yet seemingly random fashions. If you come across her, you have to play a game of following her increasingly complex commands, often akin to a game of Simon Says, or risk searing throbbing pain. Kiibo is one of the more threatening ones. With his body inorganic and unable to be distorted like the others, his mind was merely warped into malware that can possess anything with a computer inside it. This includes cell phones, calculators, thermostats, cars with built-in GPSes and cameras, etc. His body, the source of the malware, is still unknown. A two-faced gorgon obsessed with creating rudimentary-yet-effective deathtraps. A gorgeous and colorful false angel. A blob of goo that somehow knows how to use various machinery. Perhaps the three survivors are akin to the Crystal Gems here, survivors in a different sense here, the ones fighting their former friends for the sake of everyone else.

Ruruka Ando as the queen of what is essentially candyland, with Sonosuke Izayoi as her knight in sweet, delicious, and surprisingly durable armor. All citizens in her expanding country are given free sweets to devour, and those who don't are punished for their insolence.

Finally, the cast of Super Danganronpa 2 are a team of mercenaries. Evil goons for hire, as that's what they've been typecast as at this point. Maybe life has just been really harsh on them and NezumiVA was right. Or maybe this is similar to canon, where they got puppeted into evil and were eventually freed, only to annihilate their reputation by continuing to pose as villains, effectively pigeonholing themselves into evil from society's eyes. As for what they could do: Kazuichi could build a robotic army or just machines for the lower mooks to ride on. Sonia, Fuyuhiko, and Twogami could all rule conquered provinces in the empire. Nekomaru could command minions while Akane and Peko act as elite troops. Ibuki could too, considering the lethality of her music, or she could act in espionage alongside Mahiru and Hiyoko, considering her hearing skills. Gundham could add various animals to the armada. Teruteru can produce food for the army. Mikan is literally a medic. Izuru Kamakura lives on, and is the Ultimate Ultimate. Possibly even more, considering the timeline. Nagito Komaeda is the equivalent of one of those really small cylinders of play-doh that are wider than they are tall. I can't imagine Chiaki being in the group, however. Either way, I can imagine this quirky miniboss squad having various unique interactions with our heroes, whoever they may be. I'd imagine Nekomaru would befriend the heroes in an odd way, being supportive of their strength and a fair fighter despite being on the villain's side, while Teruteru would repulse our heroes for being a sexual harasser, for example.

Also @goshdangronpa I want you to look at this, girlie. Read it all. Soak it up.

[theoisdaydreaming]

hi!! i loved your overlord angel dust/husk art and i commented about potentially turning it into a fic and adding your art, which you consented to. i was wondering if you had any additional ideas to make it more than a oneshot, maybe they open a casino together with mafia roots, collect souls together, etc…once again, your art was amazing!!

Thank you so much, I would love a fic about my AU (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Here are other ideas about the story:

In this AU Angel didn't worked with Valentino, he and Arackniss reconciled before Angel could sign a contract with him

That is not to say Angel wasn't doing sex work, he would take all kinds of offers, from stripping to singing gigs, just for the money

Regarding the backstory of the spider brothers I haven't really fleshed it out but here are some points of it:

They had kind of a strained relationship even though they cared for each other, because Arackniss (or Andrew as I like to think) used to put down Anthony's dreams of becoming a performer like the drag queens he liked to see (in secret) in the gay bars the Mafia used to own back in the 30s (real history btw)

He did this in hopes he would give up, leave it all behind and live a 'normal' life, out of fear their dad would disown him, or worse, kill him

It wouldn't matter anyway because both of them would die together while doing a shady work for the mob (who started the shots? They couldn't really remember)

At the beginning of their afterlife Arackniss avoided Angel with the guilt that (according to him) it was his fault his little brother got shot in the eye. (He was too far, too late, he couldn't protect his brother and now he's dead because of him)

Cause of this angel thinks his brother hates him, but they eventually encounter during a turf war that went wrong

Arackniss sees Angel surrounded and not wanting to repeat his brothers death again, he saves him this time.

They sort things out, and become closer than ever

When Arackniss figures out what angel has been doing for money they decide to start doing mob work again, they're good and people start giving their loyalty and doing contracts with them because the brothers actually care about the souls they own, deciding to learn from their father's mistakes, they respect all of their workers

furthermore, Angel gains more influence because he gave the people he met while being a sex worker, safe and living conditions; every stripper, actor, performer wanted to work with him, and with all the contracts he made, became an overlord

On the other hand, arackniss does all the shady work, sticking to the shadows, not wanting any attention. He is very prod of angel, and becomes his right hand man

Other ideas and dynamics:

Angel calls arackniss An, Andy or niss

Arackniss calls angel Angie, Anni, or Anth. (He never really liked tony, that's what his father called him)

They love each other very much but they're still siblings, they bicker and fight all the time (all their goons are used to it at this point, unimpressed by the brothers shenanigans)

Valentino develops some sort of obsession with Angel after meeting him (this brings problems)

Angel fell first, husk fell harder

They kind of had an enemies to lovers (but not really, more like a rivalry bc angel likes to annoy the cat overlord for fun)

Molly is still in heaven in this AU, arackniss was able to shield her from the family business (he couldn't with angel though, That's part of his guilt)

She died of heart disease before the brothers death

Angel is the spoilt younger sibling

I haven't really thought about how him and husk get together but they will definitely become a power couple

I like the idea Angel performs at the casino

He sings, does drag, etc. (Maybe some pornos too, just for fun)

What caught husk's attention is that Angel cared a lot for the souls he owned, he treated them like the humans they are

That's all I have for now, I will make more art about this AU later, you can use it if you like, whether as reference or inspiration for the fic (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Ik this is more about Angel and Arackniss but I really like to focus on their story. So regarding the huskerdust you can have fun with that as I don't have a lot of ideas

[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The attacks did not stop at the one.

After the third attack, Lucifer decided it was time to take a more proactive approach. Knowing that Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, was at the Hotel and more than willing to literally eat their attackers alive wasn't serving as enough of a deterrent.

It looked like they were going to need a bigger reminder about who all resided in the hotel.

Unfortunately, they didn't know who was behind the attacks. Lucifer had snagged someone during each of the attacks, and each time, the story was the same: the group had received a call to go roughen up the residents of the hotel, but no names were ever given.

It was smart. Annoying, but smart.

Frustrated, Lucifer tossed the last of this round of goons to Alastor (and if the action mimicked tossing a dog a treat, well, no one had called him on it, yet). The redhead hummed in pleasure at his work, the sound somehow soothing rather than grating through his radio filter.

The King of Hell watched him, considering. Their opponent knew Alastor was here. Was wary enough of him not to give them any names. The skill levels of the goons were getting better, but they were still no match, really, for either of them.

The only one he truly knew to any capacity was Alastor, and he doubted the redhead was behind this. Alastor wasn't about to undermine the hotel he was so very obviously invested in, even if it was only for his own 'entertainment.'

It was most likely it was another one of those Overlords. Lucifer had only met a couple of them. Hadn't really paid attention to the politics since the system was just starting to get off the ground. He knew Carmilla Carmine for all that he hadn't seen her in nearly two decades. Their connection had been deliberately buried until only Carmilla, Lilith, and himself knew about it anymore.

He had met Zestial, only the once, but that had been back when the spider Overlord was young and new to his position. That must have been... three or four hundred years ago?

Which meant that enlisting Alastor's help was his best bet, something he absolutely did not want to do. Lucifer had managed to avoid anything more than a gentleman's agreement the last time they'd done anything transactional because Alastor had wanted his chance at a pound of flesh more than he wanted to escalate the tensions between them.

Asking for his help with an investigation, something that was going to take potentially a large amount of time and energy, was going to be costly.

Lucifer grimaced. At this stage, he was going to have to try it keep any transactions as one-off as possible. One time deals with a clear give and take. No loop holes or vague details.

Alastor, who had returned back to his usual form, watched him, having picked up on the change in mood. He appeared to be in a good mood, having just had a rather large meal and all.

Well, no better time to do this.

Lucifer lightly touched down in front him, just out of arm's reach. The distance seemed to amuse the deer demon, further adding to the hypothesis that he was closer to an agreeable mood than usual.

"May I speak with you. In private?" Lucifer grit his teeth, but forced out a polite, "Please?"

Alastor considered him. "I assume it's about this latest round of nonsense?"

"Yes, but." Lucifer glanced behind him. Charlie and the rest of the residents were watching them from the doorway, always ready to step in if needed. He turned back to the redhead. "I would prefer to have this discussion in private. If you feel better with it, we can discuss it in your room."

It was probably a little telling, giving up the familiar ground again, but he felt it was still the most likely place to keep Alastor agreeable.

Alastor hummed, placing his hands behind his back as he began the short walk back to the hotel. Lucifer came up to walk beside him, keeping his distance but forced to stay a little closer for the sake of privacy.

The redhead's smile was knowing, aware of what he was doing. "Very well, your Magesty. Perhaps after we send everyone back on their way?"

It was a subtle way of asking how public Lucifer wanted anyone to know about their meeting. "Later tonight, after everyone has gone to bed."

People were likely going to see them working together at some point, but he'd rather postpone that mess as long as possible.

Alastor's smile took on a hint of teeth, eyes half lidded with the promise of seeing something amusing. "I look forward to our chat, then."

Oh, Lucifer bet he did.

Lucifer put it out of his mind, surrendering himself to Charlie's inspection. The wound to his hand was long gone and not even a concern any more, but it seemed his daughter was still shaken by the fact that her father was just as vulnerable to Angelic Steel as her girlfriend was.

He spent the majority of the rest of the day in her company, something that had brought her comfort after the last fight, only escaping her clutches when she and Vaggie decided to call it a night.

"Night, Dad! Remember to take it easy tonight," she called over to him as she headed out.

Lucifer and Vaggie shared a look. The latter, taking pity on the former, took hold of Charlie's arms and began leading her away. "Yes, yes, he got the message. You're smothering him."

Lucifer heard his daughter gasp and he caught a glimpse of a fretting expression on her face before she was led around the corner. "He needs fretting!" he thought he heard her exclaim before she was too far out of earshot.

The blond knew he had a dopey smile on his face, but he was just so happy to get to spend as much time with her as he had been getting lately. He just wanted to soak it all up before she got tired of him and no longer needed him anymore.

"You need anything else, sir?"

Lucifer twisted around to face the bar, remembering the drink in his hand. He'd felt like something non-alcoholic tonight (he needed all of his wits to survive tonight), and since a wider variety of drinks had been added to the menu, he'd thought he'd indulge. "Nah, but thanks, Husk. Don't stay up on my account. I'll clean my glass before I leave."

The winged cat grunted. He finished up the final glass he'd been cleaning, placing it with the others. "Don't have to tell me twice. Night, sir."

Lucifer waved him off. They really did need to work on the 'sir' part, but Husk was as stubborn as the rest of them.

The hotel began to settle as one hour passed, then the next. When he could no longer hear and movement, he downed the rest of his drink. It didn't taste as good at room temperature, but there was no need to waste it. A little twirl of his finger and a touch of magic, the glass was as good as new.

He placed the glass in its designated spot behind the counter. He took a deep, steading breathe, resisting the urge to put this off. Better to get it over with.

Red smoke swirled around him as he transported him straight out of the lobby and up to Alastor's room. He didn't want to take any chances that someone would see him coming and going. He reappeared as close to the entrance of the room as he could, as to not impolite intrude more than he already was. Normally, he wouldn't care, but, again. Playing nice.

He looked around until he spotted his quarry over by the fireplace, still fully dressed as normal and sipping who knew what.

"Ah, sire, I was beginning to wonder if you'd keep me waiting." Alastor gestured to the small table set out between his chair and a second chair to entertain guests. "You'll have to forgive me. Your tea has likely gone cold, but I expected you an hour ago." His smile wasn't sorry in the least.

Well, so much for being in an agreeable mood.

Lucifer crossed the room to the vacant chair. He dropped into it, ignoring the drink. He wouldn't have accepted anything from the cannibal at this stage in their acquaintance anyway. "I'd like some information on the current Overlords."

Alastor placed his cup on the saucer resting on his lap. "Ah! Straight to business. Good, man." The redhead looked his guest up and down. "And what have you to offer in exchange for this information?"

Lucifer settled into his seat, crossing one leg over the other, as he lounged to the side. His elbow came to rest on the arm rest. "You tell me what you want and I'll tell you if I'm willing to pay it."

Alastor's eyes took on a golden glow, pupils morphing into dials. "You'll uphold the bargain, even if I don't have all the information you want?"

He hated to do it, but, "Yes."

The deer demon leaned forward. "This will be a binding deal, not an agreement."

Just as he thought. The blond responded, again, "Yes."

Alastor's body language shifted. Something sinister, never quite buried and never hidden well rising to the surface. Lucifer could almost see him considering his options, weighing each one in turn.

Finally, he settled on, "Your blood, taken at a time of my choosing."

Lucifer didn't wince, although he wanted to. He sighed, nodding. "One time. No ongoing feedings. We don't do it in public. If I need anything else from you after this, we can negotiate any terms at that time."

Alastor placed his cup and saucer on the table. "Also, you take on that delightful deer form of yours, and I get to feed until I'm full. No retaliation."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him, noting the word 'full.' "Can you actually get full? I know you're not a real windigo, but I can see the influences."

A red tipped claw waved the concern off. "Despite all appearances to the contrary, I am not a 'bottomless pit.'" Alastor did not actually use finger quotes around the phrase, which he seemed to find distasteful, but Lucifer heard them anyway. Someone had used this phrase against him in the past. "It simply takes a rather large meal to sate my appetite."

His grin widened with anticipation and a touch of excitement. "Whatever you seraphim are made of, your blood was exceptionally potent! I was very nearly full off of it all by itself."

Lucifer shuddered, even as he matched Alastor's grin with near manic one of his own. He certainly hoped it would be. Fallen or not, he was still one of his father's most powerful creations. "Your terms are acceptable."

Alastor held out his hand, the shadows that made up his magic unnaturally darkening the room. The stitches along his coat and smile cast a sickly green glow across his person. "I take it we have a deal?"

Lucifer felt his true form come over him. He didn't allow himself to hesitate. He reached out and took the Radio Demon's hand.

"Deal."

Shadows lit by green symbols spread out across the room and down into the hotel. The foundation creeked with the power of the binding being cast around the deal makers. If this had been the original building, it would have crumbled.

(Down in their rooms, the other residents shifted uneasily in their sleep. Husk, the only one still awake, stared at the ceiling in grim trepidation as evidence of his master's newest deal lit up his room.)

The magic faded away as they drew their hands away. Lucifer could feel the weight of the chain settle around his neck. Could see the other end of it wrapping around Alastor's hands, laying in wait for him to call in it.

It was not the most pleased he'd ever seen the Radio Demon, but it was close.

Alastor, sometimes capable of pretending to be meciful, let the chain disappear. He picked back up his drink, prompting, "You had some questions, your Majesty?"

Lucifer pressed his lips together briefly. He hated the way Alastor said his title on a good day. Knew he did it just to annoy him. Usually, he let it slide. Perhaps it was the new weight around his throat and the delight in every line of Alastor's body that made it grate this time.

He forced himself to relax.

"Tell me about the current Overlords. The territories they hold. What alliances they have."

Alastor leaned back in his own seat, making himself comfortable. "Well, if we're going to talk about anyone, we must start the esteemed, Zestial..." The radio host indeed proved to be knowledgeable in this area, providing concise and easy to follow information whenever Lucifer asked for clarification.

For instance: "Carmilla Carmine?" Lucifer had had ample practice with pretending he had never the Overlord. There was nothing in his tone to give it away. "She was the one that provided the weapons Angel and the others used, yes?"

"Yes." Alastor tilted his head to the side. "I must admit, I'm a little surprised you're not more concerned about how much Angel Steel there is laying around. It might be expensive, but it's certainly everywhere. Isn't it a danger to you and your daughter?"

It was only the fact that there wasn't any audible malice to the question, just the sense that the redhead was poking to see if Lucifer would be willing to share the information, that held his knee jerk response in check. This was, indeed, a Q&A for Lucifer to question and Alastor to answer. There was little reason to give anything away in this instance.

Ultimately, the blond settled on letting him have this, as the redhead had already seen him bleed.

Lucifer held up the hand that had been impaled. Alastor's eyes followed the movement, focusing in on the line of slightly lighter grey that was all that remained of the wound. It was darker than it had been just yesterday and would be darker still tomorrow. "Angelic Steel holds little threat to me or to Charlie." It might have, had she been a Nephilim born of the union between an ordinary angel and human, but as one born of a seraphim and the first woman? Not a chance. "It can hurt us, but it's little more of an inconvenience."

Now, if someone where to get their hands on Charlie's trident and attack her with it? Well. No one needed to know that.

Alastor made that humming noise he made when he was digesting a new tidbit of information. He picked up his narrative, going on to explain the alliance between himself and various other Overlords. From the way he spoke of her, Lucifer got the impression that Alastor actually liked this 'Rosie' character, while he just as clearly did not like the Vees, which was apparently the handle for a group of three separate Overlords.

He didn't realize he knew more Overlord names than he thought he did, until he recognized another name. "Valentino. He's the one that Angel has a contract with?"

Alastor nodded. "Yes. To my understanding, Valentino owns Angel's soul, but can only exert any control over him while in the studio. Seems a silly little loop hole, if you ask me."

The nonchalance, the so little care for Angel's clear suffering was a stark reminder that Alastor himself was an Overlord with his own souls. Lucifer frowned at him, a little of his contempt bleeding into his tone, as he accused, "A loop hole I'm sure you'd never allow your own souls, hm?"

Alastor laughed. "Ha ha! Oh no! Not at all. Any soul I own, it's total and complete." He smirked back in the face of Lucifer's disgust. "But I mostly deal with favors, more so than souls. I like to do little things for others, and later, at a time of my choosing, they do something for me." His expression grew thoughtful. "Why, cashing in a few of my favors is how I got that silly little advertisement for the hotel on the air. I'm sure you've gotten around to seeing it by now, yes?"

Lucifer felt his irritation simmering below the surface. Only allowed the sharpening of the claws he wanted to use to wipe that smug little grin off Alastor's face be the only indication of it. He pushed the conversation on, instead of letting the sinner have the point. "And do you hold territory?"

The Radio Demon held up his hands to bring attention the room as a whole. "Oh, nothing like that. My tower is more than enough, although I do get a bit possessive with the hotel itself, since I've invested so much time and energy into it." He pointed to the radio on the shelf behind him. "I don't really need more when I can reach anywhere with a radio on hand. My favors owed do a great deal of the work of covering any gaps in my coverage."

Lucifer remembered him mentioning he had a talk show. Now that it was brought up, he recalled seeing several of the old fashioned radios around the hotel. Charlie had one in her room and there was one in the main foyer. He had been thinking of adding one into his room, but hadn't gotten around to it.

Suddenly, he wasn't so sure that was a great idea. Perhaps he could sneak out the one in Charlie's room the next time he was in there?

He gestured for the other to continue. When Alastor finished, Lucifer took a moment to chew on the information he had been given. It was a good start, better than where he was at the beginning of the day. But it didn't really narrow anything down.

"Do you know of anyone in particular who might feel threatened by what the hotel is trying to accomplish?"

Alastor laughed, finding the question a bit absurd. "Any of us might find it threatening, my dear king. Our deals and our reputations are our most powerful tools. The possibility that souls can be redeemed means that those deals might be broken which threatens our power."

Lucifer supposed it was too easy, if there had been an simple response to that question. Alastor surprised him, though, when he added, "Really, I don't know why anyone is worried about the hotel, when supposedly you're a bigger threat yourself."

The blond frowned, attention sharpening. "What? Me? What do I have to do with any of that?"

Alastor's posture was as languid as it had been since he had settled in. Nothing on the surface seemed to have changed, but Lucifer could feel the weight of his gaze as he explained, "Oh, you know. That silly legend that's been hanging around."

Lucifer blinked at him, baffled. "What legend?"

"The one that says you can break deals."

Unbidden, a memory rose to the surface. Of himself standing above a sinner kneeling at the base of his throne. The sound of the shattering of their chain and the tinkling sound as the links hit the floor - once, twice - and then vanished. It had been the last time he'd ever interfered in the drama between sinners. Lucifer blinked, the memory vanishing like smoke.

He almost dismissed it. Almost let the truth die and remain a myth. Something about the way Alastor was watching him held him back. Whispered: this is important.

Telegraphing the movement, the Devil raised his free hand. Seeing he had the Radio Demon's full attention, he flicked the chain that represented their Deal, putting a little power into it to force the chain to materialize.

Alastor jolted, spine straightening and ears standing on end, half looking like he had received an electric shock.

Lucifer lowered his hand, letting the chain disappear. "I can't break deals I've made, if that's what you're worried about."

The redhead rolled the wrist his end of the chain was wrapped around, trying to work some feeling back into the suddenly numb limb. He still looked amused, but only by the skin of his teeth. "Come now, it's like you think I was accusing you of being dishonorable!" He visibly pulled his undaunted mask back into place. "I was merely asking if you could break other people's deals!"

Uh huh. Sure he was.

Still. With the same level of casualness, Lucifer straightened from his slouch. Dominant hand freed, he used it to reach out and pluck a different chain right out of thin air.

Alastor's eyes widened fully from the normal half-lidded state. One side of the chain was wrapped around the redhead's wrist, showing him the owner of the Deal. The other side trailed off under the door and out of the room.

If one were to follow it to its other end, they would have found themselves standing outside of Husk's door.

Lucifer watched Alastor, the latter's eyes glued to the former's grip on the chain. Anticipation was evident in Alastor's expression, but it was a little harder to parse out the other emotion in there.

Hope.

But hope of what?

Lucifer tightened his grip, testing the strength (Alastor's strength) of the Deal. The links creaked and groaned under his own power and he found that it would be easy to break them.

Instead of breaking them, however, he released the chain instead.

Alastor's left ear twitched, expression growing rigid, as if he had forgotten he was being watched. Something related to disappointment, but not quite, crossed it before curiosity took it's place. "You didn't break it?"

"Husk is an adult and he made his own choices. Contrary to popular belief, I do appreciate consequences." Perhaps Lucifer would be willing to change his stance on the subject in the future - he was growing attached to the members of the hotel, besides Charlie and Vaggie, by default. He certainly would if Charlie ever asked him to. "Besides, I'm not in the market to make anymore of an enemy out of you tonight than you already are."

There was that familiar amusement again. "Oh? Does that mean I'm growing on you, sire?"

Lucifer shuddered, waving the idea away like the smell of it was something foul and putrid, which only seemed to amuse Alastor some more. "Er, no. Absolutely not. Father, you're so lucky Charlie likes you."

"Indeed." Alastor looked to the clock on top of his fireplace, which drew Lucifer's attention to it.

Egad, Lucifer thought to himself as he saw the time, when did it get so late?

"Did you have any other questions for me, sire?"

Lucifer was both closer to his goal and yet further away from it than when they started. It did indeed seem like an Overlord was responsible for the attacks, but it was unlikely that this line of inquiry would bear any more fruit.

He sighed. He didn't like what he was about to do, but it had to be done anyway. "No, I don't have any future questions at this time."

Both sides felt the redhead's side of the Deal closing, Alastor's end fulfilled. His hands flexed around the feel of the chain and then settled. Perfectly polite, he said, "Splendid! Fancy doing business with you. You don't mind if we call this a night, then?"

Lucifer didn't want to poke that bear, but he couldn't help but ask: "You're not going to cash in your deal tonight?"

The Radio Demon looked at him, knowing he was really asking it so that they could get it over with as soon as possible. "Nonsense! I've already eaten a hardy meal today." Alastor grinned from ear to ear, looking for all the world like he was talking about a 5 Star restaurant's menu and not about drinking someone's blood straight from the source. "I'd much rather reserve this meal to a time I could enjoy it to the fullest."

Lucifer grimaced. Cannibals. Either way, the desire to not have those teeth in this neck tonight won over the need to get this over with and he decided that he was not, in fact, going to look that gift horse in the mouth that night. "Whelp, good talk!" The little king sprung to his feet. To avoid turning his back on the creature that literally had license to take a bite out of him, he decided he was just going to portal out. "Uh, let me know when you want to, uh, do the thing."

As he portalled out, he heard Alastor drawl, tone heavy with dark promise, "I most certainly will."

tbc

Part 6

[howlingday]

jaune is spiderman au) grandpa arc meets one of jaune's enemies, bullseye while on a date with grandma arc. grandpa arc: "what's with the get up pal? this a stick up or are ya just ugly?" grandpa arc: go ahead take my wallet chief ozpin hasn't paid me since my run in with mayor need, or as I like to call him..." granpa arc: **throws a rock at the villains head** "CHUCK!" **pulls out 500 magnum revolver** grandpa arc: "thanks for the cross hair looks both of us are getting blown tonight!" BLAM BLAM BLAM grandpa arc: "common dear I need a drink" **walks away with grandma arc** meanwhile with jaune jaune: "why the hell don't any of my villains stick around?"

Chapter 2 - Lethal Protection

Ren walked into the dorm to find newspapers spread all over the floor. Jaune lifted one, bringing it closer, before setting it down to write in his notebook nearby. He gave a hum before turning to another newspaper and repeating the process.

"I hope this isn't for an assignment."

"No, more of a... personal project." Jaune didn't look up, though his expression did show that Ren had broken his focus. "Snipe Hunt died this morning. Gunshot."

"Which one was he again?"

"Bullseye." Jaune answered quickly. "Was gonna assassinate the headmaster but I managed to stop him."

"By being late to Pyrrha's award ceremony."

"I sAID..." Jaune's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "I said I was sorry, and she forgave me."

"She forgives everyone, Jaune." Ren shook his head. "But instead of giving you a lecture on being a good friend, I have to ask; why are you so interested in Bullseye's death if he was shot? Last I checked, he wasn't exactly the most popular guy in town."

"No, he wasn't." Jaune lifted another page. "But the fact that the news keeps calling it a murder makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Maybe we could call Lisa Lavender and ask her call it something else instead."

"I'm serious, Ren." Jaune set the pages down and gave his roommate a serious look. "Snipe was a killer. He was a bad guy, and that's something I've figured out BEFORE he tried to kill me. But if someone is going around, killing bad guys without the police or any huntsmen or huntresses involved, then it just means there's one more killer out there that I have to stop."

Ren was quiet for a moment. He'd been with Jaune in this vigilante business since catching him sneaking into the room late one night. Come next morning, he and Jaune agreed to keep quiet on both accounts, Ren about his criminal roommate and Jaune whenever he's sneaking back in for the night. Ever since, Ren had let Jaune go about his business as a crime-fighter. It was a very simple "quiet and neutral" agreement.

However, the way Jaune was speaking now was unlike anything Ren had seen before from him. Normally meek and mild, letting Cardin or Yang or even Nora pick on him while either sighing or laughing the issue off. You could step on his shoe and the worst he'd do is ask you to please get off. Here, though, Jaune had a look in his eyes that said, 'I'm doing this and you can't stop me'. Ren was actually impressed.

"Jaune?" The uncostumed hero looked to him. "What can I do to help?"

--------------------------------------------------

"Are you okay, honey?"

"Mm."

"I know you were only protecting Jaune. Your heart was in the right place."

"Mhm."

"Do you... Do you need anything?"

"...Need to talk to Jaune."

--------------------------------------------------

"So, what's the plan?" Nora chirped into Pyrrha's ear. "Break into the police station? Rough up some witnesses? Ooh~! Maybe send a message to all the goons to come forward~?"

Pyrrha tapped her earpiece. "I was thinking something less dramatic."

Jumping from the roof, she hopped from wall to windowsill to fire escape to dumpster until she landed on the ground. The same ground where the costumed criminal, "Bullseye," was murdered. Not two weeks ago, the Huntsman Spider had managed to thwart his attempt to murder her headmaster, and now he was dead by something so... simple. She scanned the crime-scene, noting where the police had left their markers for notable evidence locations.

She looked over to see Nora was still distracting the police officers by asking inane questions. Things of a range from 'How you become a police officer' to 'What if you break a law in another city and flee to Vale' nature. Pyrrha had to work fast if she wanted to avoid being caught, getting them both in trouble for different, yet connected reasons.

Pyrrha noted the chalk outline with the legs pointing to the entrance of the alley, meaning the assassin was either facing his opponent or was shot in the back while fleeing. The police reports on the news said that three gunshots were heard at the time of the murder. Loud gunshots, meaning it had to be a large gun. Closing her eyes, she twitched her fingers for her semblance to pick up anything.

Dumpsters. Fire escape. A few small things like paperclips and bolts, but nothing like a bullet. She frowned. Either the police already had the shells, which was possible, or whatever bullets were used didn't expel shells, which wouldn't make sense since only huntsmen were allowed to have weapons like that. This was a murder, though, so...

"Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Officers! I'll be sure to buy you a DONUT for your troubles~!" Pyrrha flinched. It was time to go. Carefully moving to the shadows where she could more easily escape, Pyrrha began her climb to the rooftops.

"So, how did it go?" Nora asked in Pyrrha's ear.

"Not good." Pyrrha replied. "Being a vigilante is a lot harder than it looks."

"Then maybe you should give up." Pyrrha whirled around and swung at the dark-cloaked figure behind her. Her attack was blocked, but that wouldn't stop her. She swung her other fist in, catching the thugs in their armored sided, making them grunt and let go. Pyrrha kept her fists up, only held back by the figure holding up their hand. "I'm not here to fight you."

"Pyrrha? Pyrrha, what's going on?"

Pyrrha thought for a moment about how best to respond. She could tell Nora that she was under attack right now, making the two jump into combative states and potentially make things worse. Otherwise...

"I tripped." Pyrrha said into her earpiece. The figure across from her rubbed their side where they were punched.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll meet you at rendezvous point."

"The what?"

"The place we're meeting up."

"Alright," Nora said, "I'm getting cocoa!"

"Thank you for not getting her involved." The figure said.

"I can easily change that with a phone call, now talk." Pyrrha glared through her goggles. Could she beat this opponent? The punch Pyrrha landed earlier told her yes, but she preferred to err on the side of caution when she could. "Who are you?"

"I'm... Black." The figure said. "I'm a vigilante."

"Why are you here?"

"To stop you from being one."

"What?"

"This isn't a game..." The air was left open as an introduction, which Pyrrha gladly gave with her fists to her hips.

"I'm the Red Huntress!"

"Right... The Red... Huntress..." It was clear Black didn't care for the simple name Pyrrha gave herself. "This isn't a game. People can get hurt out here. People DO get hurt out here."

"If it's so dangerous, then why are you doing it?" Pyrrha asked.

"Because I need to." Black said. "The White Fang are up to something in this city, and I need to be the one to stop it."

"Just you?" Pyrrha asked. "Seems a bit selfish, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you, and you are literally wearing just goggles and a cape." Black said with a groan. By contrast, the dark-cloaked figure was wearing bulletproof... everything over a black bodysuit. If Pyrrha didn't know any better, she'd assume Black was a special operations member separated from their team. They gave a sigh. "Look... What will it take for you to go home?"

Pyrrha thought for a moment. "What can you tell me about the murder that happened this morning?"

-------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Grandpa!"

"Hey, little hunter!" Jaune's grandfather chuckled. Since Jaune left for Beacon, this had become his go-to greeting for him. "How's the high life with your fancy edu-macation?"

Jaune rolled his eyes. "Not bad." Jaune said. "How's the retired life?"

"Slow and boring." He groaned. "And, uh, what about..."

"I'm not alone, Grandpa, but..." Jaune didn't start this vigilante thing alone. He'd gotten the armor for the costume from his grandfather taking the old family shield and getting it cut down into smaller pieces to be sewn onto cloth. With it, Jaune looked like a superhero, someone who could do more good outside the law than he could do in. Grandpa, a retired huntsman and police officer, had friends on the force still who could help him out now and again with information. "I've got a friend wanting to help me."

"A friend, huh?"

"Hello, sir." Ren greeted. "My name is Lie Ren."

"Ren, huh?" Grandpa made a tapping sound on his end. "And how'd you get roped into this, Ren?"

"I caught Jaune when he was sneaking back into our dorm."

"Ugh... I shoulda known... Jaune was never good at keeping quiet."

"He can keep quiet," Ren defended, earning a grin from Jaune, "but only after you tell him to." Jaune's smile fell.

"Ha! That's true!" Jaune's smile fell harder.

"Anyways," Jaune tried to steer the conversation, "I was calling because I needed your help with something."

"Of course you do. It's never to check up on your grandma and me. You gotta need something!" Ren gave a worried look to Jaune.

"Because when I call you any other time you just go, 'uh-huh' and ''mhm'!"

"Mhm..." Grandpa replied, giving a chuckle. "So, what can I help ya with?"

"It's about a murder that happened." Jaune asked. "I was wondering if you could help me out?"

"What have ya got so far?"

"Just a victim and a CoD."

"Uh-huh? And those are?"

"Snipe Hunt, aka Bullseye, killed by a gunshot. He's the one I told you about before, remember?" The line went quiet. "Grandpa?"

"Mhm."

"Are you okay, Mr. Arc?" Ren asked.

"I'm fine." He yawned. "It's just getting late for me."

"Oh, well, I'll let you get your rest then, Grandpa."

"No, no, I can still talk. Or at least give you some advice."

"Okay..." Jaune could feel his legs twitch with excitement as he waited for the advice.

"Some cases need more time to be looked into. Eventually, everything will figure itself out. That's what I learned on the force."

"...That's it? Just sit around and wait?"

"I said I could give you some advice. Never said it was good advice. Maybe if you look for the good in the bad, you might learn something?"

"Good in the bad..." Ren cupped his chin. "You said you learned this lesson on the force, then maybe the police would know more."

"Huh... They would, wouldn't they?" Jaune gave a smirk. "And there's that police understudy program floating around, too. Maybe I could find my way into the police records and figure out from there!"

"Maybe." Jaune couldn't see, but he could tell when his grandpa was smiling. "It's getting late. I'll tell grandma you said hi."

"See ya, Grandpa!"

"Goodbye, Mr. Arc, sir. It was nice meeting you."

"G'night, boys."

--------------------------------------------------

Jack Arc hung up the phone. His smile fade and he let out a sigh. Looking by it, he saw the murder weapon seated on the other side. He shook his head, picking it up in his large, calloused hands. The cold metal helped him think.

"It's heavier today." His hand lowered. "So heavy."

[lasunsettia]

para ti papá | miguel o'hara

miguel o'hara & g/n reader (platonic but there's love in everything amirite)

4.2k words

miguel hates wasting time. you hate seeing people pretend to act tough. miscommunication, trauma bonding, and a movie night(?) ensue.

this will be a two parter, so enjoy the first bit of (belated) father's day hurt/comfort... aka the hurt

also available on ao3

“hey! you took all the frosting!”

“you did smush the cupcake on my nose, cariño.”

swipe.

“dad, what’s a hickey? and why does uncle gabriel say you have to keep covering them up?”

“… i’ll tell you when you’re older.”

swipe.

“if spider-man can stay up past 10 pm, why can’t i?”

“mija, he’s way older and has a whole nueva york to defend. you still need me to tie your shoes. and you call pigeons street chickens.”

“okay i’m returning your father’s day gift.”

“wait what-”

swipe.

“i love you dad. even if you stink sometimes.”

“hey now, i don’t smell that bad.”

“you sure?”

“… pass. but… i love you too.”

finishing with loud giggles, the final video ends. silence gradually fills the room, the echoes of long-lost laughter fading out. the thrum of miguel’s workstation shifts into white noise.

a fragment of the life miguel had with his daughter, gabriella, lingers on the expanded screen in front of him. the gabi on the screen stays stuck in miguel’s lap, trapped by his arms as he leans down to tickle her. a mischievous grin flashes on that miguel’s face.

but as the screen and that reality flickers away, miguel shuts his eyes. he hangs his head low, letting out a deep sigh. jessica and peter and the others have asked him countless times why he keeps doing this. going over memories of a life that was never his to begin with.

over. and over. and over.

it’s equal parts selfish and self-denying. that world may not have been his. but he still mourns what bits of it he could experience. the joy. the love and safety he could provide. having a genuine reason to smile….

at the same time, he resents himself for the lives he’s destroyed. a whole dimension, gone. all because of his blind longing.

he’s lost too much, inflicted too much pain and destruction, to not remind himself of what he’s fighting for. what the whole spider society is trying to achieve.

“earth to miguel. reality check coming in.”

miguel glances to the side as lyla appears above him, glitching between sitting with her legs crossed and standing with her hands on her hips. he furrows his brow at her sly expression. the heels of his palms dig even deeper into the workstation desk.

“yeah yeah, i’m listening,” miguel exhales. he leans back, swiping away a lingering hologram screen and looking across the surveillance setup. “is there something i should be seeing or…?”

lyla reappears beside the screens. “well, there’s an anomaly on earth-2444. some goons from spider-man noir’s world got sucked up during a botched bank heist.” the surveillance screens flash images and video clips of said anomalies breaking into a banquet hall, holding some attendees hostage and engaging in a standoff with security and police. “made a dinner party a heck of a lot more interesting, buuut technically those people may still be in danger.”

miguel raises an eyebrow. “and noir’s not handling the case himself… why?” the cynical, black and white-dressed vigilante usually loved any excuse to hand troublemakers’ asses to them. especially those from his dimension. it seemed weird to miguel that noir wasn't eagerly rushing to save the day.

“he’s on an in-world crime bust.” lyla points to one of the screens. a brief montage of noir in a standoff flashes and quickly slows to a still photo.

“okay, then alert the local spider-man. this is a one, maybe two-person job. they can handle it and ask for someone on standby if need be.”

“they’re also busy.”

"well then we’ll send someone else.”

miguel grows more irritated by the moment. why is lyla making this more difficult than it has to be?

“there’s no one else to send, miguel.” the videos on the surveillance screens freeze, highlighting the ongoing dimensional deviation that needs addressing.

“en serio, lyla, you’re telling me there’s no one we can dispatch for this?”

“no, miguel.” lyla’s blunt, almost annoyed-sounding response claps back at miguel’s exasperation. she counts off on her fingers as she continues, growing to a human size in front of him. “everyone else we have is sick, on patrol, or on break for today.”

except you.

lyla doesn’t say it, but miguel can feel it in her tone.

he swallows a groan, resting his hands on his hips. it’s a simple job, really. take down a few anomalies. send them back home or toss them in a laser cage overnight. and then get back to trying not to burst a damn blood vessel over preserving the delicate balance of the multiverse.

still, there’s something that tugs him back a bit. makes his body more sore than usual, even though he took his last injection a few days ago. something calls for him to stay put. review the surveillance footage to see if there’s something bigger he can tackle.

or if there’s another video of gabi he can not so subtly revisit and ease his lingering emotional ache with.

“lyla….” miguel cringes a bit at how tired his voice sounds. “i–”

“hold up boss. i got some new info.”

lyla interrupts miguel with a status update. two of the surveillance screens depict a spider on the move, another screen flashing their background notes and mission statistics. “we got a familiar face on the way, but from the looks of things, they may need an assist…”

the meaning behind lyla’s words hits miguel almost immediately. that unmistakable get up and the record of their recent mistakes and mishaps catches his attention.

and so does a roster of the stupid nicknames this spider has referred to miguel by for the last year. lyla’s been keeping a secret record, apparently.

ese pinche pendejo.

the irritation radiates tenfold off miguel as he presses a button on the workstation, initiating its descent. he impatiently taps at his watch while the workstation takes its time. regardless of how shitty he feels today, he’s not going to let this dumbass screw up handling some small antagonists yet again.

“patch me through to them,” miguel demands. “now.”

lyla sighs, glitching to miguel’s shoulder in miniature form. “thought you might say that,” she deadpans.

miguel turns, jumping down the remaining distance between the platform and the floor. he can’t waste any time. he doesn’t want to.

he presses the big yellow dot representing earth-2444 on the watch interface. a burst of blue-hued rays illuminate the entryway to the room before forming the glowing, golden hexagonal portal entrance.

“well, they’re not answering but they know you’re on the way,” lyla reports, appearing next to the portal and giving a mini salute.

miguel mutters under his breath, summoning his mask over his head. taking a deep breath, he steps into the shimmering portal, ready to confront the nuisances awaiting him in earth-2444.

and to knock some damn sense into the idiot that hopefully doesn’t screw things up in the next few minutes.

—

“OW! FUCK ME!”

the baking sheet drops with a loud thud from your hand onto the tiny stove. red hot heat and pain flashes across your fingertips. cursing under your breath, you shake your gloved hand, blowing on it in hopes the pain will quickly subside.

whichever spider person gave you the tip for making your suit gloves heat resistant was a damn liar. they’d be hearing your angry complaints later. for now, you nudge the oven closed with your hip and peek over at the empanadas scattered on the baking sheet. the pastries don’t look half bad, gleaming a nice shade of brown. at the very least, the kitchen air smells absolutely heavenly. hints of savory spices, herbs, and the fillings… it's blissful.

hopefully they’re enough for miguel to forgive my ass, you wish internally. deception and some white lies aren’t exactly your favorite tactics to use. but when it comes to making headstrong leaders slash close-ish friends confront their suppressed emotional turmoil, you decide it’ll do the job.

it’s your way of offering that stoic tight ass some support. you’ve known miguel for a little over a year, and you two weren’t super close friends. sometimes he acted more like he wanted to punch you in the jaw than chat with you about your lives or an upcoming mission. but you ended up crossing paths more often than coworkers who tolerate each other generally do. and the way you both gradually got in the habit of calling each other first for an assist signaled some level of trust. even if you were the one to call on him a little more.

after jessica and peter, you were first in line for lyla to contact when miguel needed to strategize. or pull his head out of his ass. or, in rare moments, have someone to talk to and be a normal person. especially after a particularly rough day.

it was during the rare moments of guard-down vulnerability that you caught glimpses of the little things miguel o'hara usually kept under heavy wraps. like his love for homemade food. how he's somehow only seen a grand total of fifty something movies in his lifetime. and the soul-crushing inner turmoil he held onto on a day like father’s day.

which was today. and without a doubt, you knew miguel would try to act tough and soldier on like it was another boring sunday unless someone did something about it.

you double check that the oven’s turned off before moving to grab a cool drink from the fridge. a variety of sodas, teas, and water with brands parodying those of your world greet you. along with some other basic groceries. you make a mental note to thank the spider of earth-2444 for their generosity.

any other thoughts or drink selection is quickly interrupted by a rapidly growing thrumming sound. you notice too late that the sound isn’t coming from the oven or the refrigerator. a loud banging and crashing emerges from down the hallway.

shit… is that–?

the string of growls and curses in spanish coming from the bathroom answers your question. to your mental checklist, you add any toiletry replacements and bathroom repairs miguel might be wracking up.

“mierda, lyla, where the hell did you send me?”

the muffled yell springs you into action. blindly grabbing a pair of drinks from the fridge - one for you and miguel each - you attempt to cool off your hand while speeding over to the couch. the fridge shuts with a click as you sit down and swipe the remote off the tiny table in front of you. the tv’s loud chimes while turning on send your heartbeat shooting up even faster.

“shut up shut up shut up,” you command under your breath. this whole encounter is feeling less like revealing a surprise and more like awaiting your imminent chewing out on behalf of miguel o’hara. speaking of…

the bathroom door bangs open down the hall. an exasperated snarl spills out of miguel’s mouth, his heavy footsteps thudding against the tiny apartment’s hardwood floors. you nervously shuffle through the viewing options on the tv, finding just the one you had in mind and clicking it right before the footsteps slow.

miguel blinks behind his mask. disbelief fills him for a moment, quickly overshadowed by a cloud of anger. here he is, transported into some random, dimly lit apartment rather than the grand, glowing banquet hall currently under threat. he’d just ripped a tangle of shower curtains out of determination to get out sooner. all for the signs to continue to point to lyla having directed him to the wrong place.

or so he thinks. until he sees the very spider person he’d come to make sure wasn’t making the hostage situation worse. kicking back here. watching some fucking movie.

he calls out your name in a lowered, explanation-demanding voice. “what the hell is this?”

the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. it’s obvious from his tone that he’s beyond pissed. still, maybe a little charm can stun him.

you place the drinks on the table and turn towards miguel, resting an arm on the back of the couch. “it’s a movie night, mig,” you reply casually, nodding back towards the tv. “was waiting for you to show up.”

the eyes of miguel's mask narrow as he takes in the scene, his anger simmering beneath the surface. he had expected to find a high-stakes hostage situation. not a seemingly relaxed movie night in progress.

"we've got a serious situation on our hands, and you're here watching… whatever that is?"

you can practically breathe in the tension in the air. “it’s the godfather,” you start in defense, pulling yourself off the couch and slowly walking towards him. “and i already took care of it.” you mirror miguel’s signature hands on hips intimidation pose, stopping just a small distance in front of him.

“oh, really ?” his voice drips with bitter sarcasm. “you single-handedly saved the day while i was tearing shower curtains? without revealing your face to bystanders? or letting the anomalies almost slip into a whole other universe?”

he’s mocking you now. dragging your failures out to try to put you in your place. but little does he know those screw ups don’t phase you like they normally would.

they were intentional, after all. just bait to lure him in, right here, right now.

tugging your mask off, you meet miguel's gaze with unwavering confidence. "and i made it back here in less than 10 minutes,” you respond. “everyone’s got off days, gorgeous. but i really did handle it this time. you can trust me."

miguel scoffs. “you said the same thing about the prowler from earth-4269. then he broke out of his cage and almost tore a hole through your stomach.”

“ugh, don’t remind me,” you shudder. “hobie still hasn’t let me live that one down. or stopped trying to convince me to get a belly button piercing.”

the mix of skepticism and frustration in miguel’s stare doesn’t waver at your joke. instead, a moment of silence save for the tv in the background falls between the two of you.

“lyla.” miguel finally breaks the lull, turning his attention to the ai assistant appearing beside him. lyla offers a little wave, waiting for instructions. “show me what happened,” he demands.

“sure thing,” lyla chirps, immediately projecting a holographic display in front of miguel.

the room fills with a projected recap of your earlier crime-fighting events. your swift and agile movements as you expertly wrangled the anomalies. tossing and tugging them away from hitting, shooting, or otherwise harming the hostages. the attendees expressing their gratitude as you kicked the bad guys into a portal home.

and the unceremonious ending where security and the police chased after you and you swung back here to hide away and breathe. lyla had made sure to cut out all the surprise-related details. including the part where you almost fucked up the empanada recipe with a shit ton of sugar instead of salt.

“what’d i tell you?” you chime in, crossing your arms as the recap ends. “had to make sure there were no distractions for ou- i mean my. my godfather watch party.”

the skepticism seems to have mostly faded from miguel’s masked expression, replaced by agitation. leaning to the side slightly, you release a web towards the kitchen. you grin as you successfully capture and pull back an empanada. “made some snacks too. wanna try one, sweeth– ah shit, it’s still hot.”

lyla chuckles while you juggle the empanada between your hands. miguel, on the other hand, remains unamused.

“if you already covered everything, why didn’t you report that back to lyla?” miguel questions.

you stiffen, gripping the slightly cooler empanada in between your gloves. “well, about that…" you start to say, easing him into your ulterior motives.

“and how didn’t you pick up on the fact that the coast was already clear, hmm?” miguel interjects. his sharp gaze shifts to lyla hovering above his shoulder. he senses that something isn't adding up, and his instincts are honing in on the bluff.

lyla shrugs. “even gorgeous ai assistants make mistakes sometimes,” she responds nonchalantly. “besides, spidey here didn’t pick up, so i was going off what information i had at the time.”

miguel lets out a dry laugh. mentirosos. los dos. his mask disappears to reveal his piercing red eyes fixed on you. his tongue darts out to lick a particularly sharp canine, intensifying his glare. his expression demands answers.

"so, screwing up missions wasn't good enough for you, was it?" he accuses, his arms crossed. "you just had to move on to wasting my time with non-existent ones."

you can't help but snort at the accusation. "maybe i just really like your attention and oh so friendly company," you remark mockingly, taking a deliberate bite of your empanada.

miguel's eyebrow quirks in confusion and ever-growing irritation. with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you continue, "or maybe, just maybe, i had something else planned the whole time."

the atmosphere in the room crackles with frustration and impatience as miguel’s eyes narrow. he tries to unravel the truth behind your actions. "wanna tell me?" his tone orders you more than asks.

you meet his intense stare head-on, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "well, miguel, let's just say i wanted to test how you handle unexpected situations. we need to be prepared for anything, right?"

miguel's eyebrows furrow. "wh- testing me?” he shakes his head, baffled by your audacity. “por dios, is this some kind of game to you?"

you take another bite of the empanada, relishing in the flavorful distraction. "kinda,” you answer casually. “and you weren’t gonna take some time off today anyway so… i had to take matters into my own hands."

miguel looks seconds away from either throwing you against the wall or ripping the empanada from your hands. well, at least it gives a sense of how he might respond to what comes next.

“lyla, you can do the thing now,” you say before finishing your snack.

before miguel can ask what thing you’re talking about, a whirring sound comes from his wrist. a series of flashes and glitches flicker across the watch face. his eyes widen in confusion at the display. “what…” he murmurs, tapping at the screen lightly to try to see what’s going on. but his touch only worsens the glitching. he grits his teeth, pressing the seemingly-malfunctioning watch in aggravation.

“don’t worry,” you interject calmly. your reassurance earns you a frustrated glare. “the thing’s not broken… it’s just on–”

“lockdown.” lyla’s voice interrupts from miguel’s and your watches simultaneously. the ai is out of sight and at limited capacity for now, according to your carefully-planned programming. “the affected watches are under multiverse jump restriction for three hours. operation 'reel healing' is underway. happy movie watching, cuties….”

both watches’ screens fade to black, only to be replaced by the word "lockdown" in red and a countdown timer starting to tick away the three hours.

peter and jessica had warned you miguel might not respond well to this. a forced but well-intended work break, meant to give him some time off from stressing over the multiverse…. and to maybe get him to stop beating himself up over his tragic inter-dimensional mistake for one night.

are you interfering with spider society work? sure. will miguel hate your guts for a while? no doubt about it. but you just wanted to be a good friend. and good friends don’t let their friends sulk in their dark lair alone on father’s day.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when miguel’s frustration finally erupts. without warning, miguel snatches you by the shoulders, claws tearing at your suit as he slams you against the wall. the impact against the wall jolts through your body, causing you to wince in pain.

"is this about the 'reel healing' nickname?" you try to joke through a winded gasp. "because peter and gwen were the ones who-"

miguel's grip on your shoulders tightens. all words clear from your mind, your survival mode subconsciously triggered. his voice is strained as he leans in close, shutting down your attempt to diffuse the situation.

"do you have any idea how this little stunt could backfire?" a clear concern lies in his words, but his rage at your actions seems a lot more obvious. his direct eye contact could burn holes into your head.

some regret gnaws at you, but your stubbornness wins out. “i'm pretty sure it won’t,” you retort. adrenaline courses through your veins.

miguel growls. his canines seem even sharper now that they’re right within bite-your-face-off distance. “we have a job to do–”

“and we’ll get back to it later,” you cut him off, trying not to groan at how miguel’s claws threaten to draw blood. “in case you haven’t noticed, we’re stuck here . we either gotta wait for something to happen or chill the fuck out. and even if hq has something come up, i got some people covering for us.”

the grip on your shoulders loosens ever so slightly. miguel’s glare demands answers.

“there’s a bypass,” you continue, “if things actually do go south. immediate contacts that will override the lockdown. but i got a roster of people on patrol and their backups.” gently placing your hands around miguel’s wrist, you finish. “and jess and peter are in charge while we’re gone. so maybe… lighten up a bit?”

for a brief moment, a quiet only broken by the movie in the background hangs heavy in the room. miguel releases his grip, shaking off your hold on his wrists and stepping back from the wall. his anger shifts to a mix of emotions.

inside his mind, miguel screams at you. lighten up, my ass. you dragged me out here for some… movie? intervention? god, what the fuck is this?

a glimmer of belief and hurt flickers in his still sharp gaze. he can barely look at you, staring anywhere but your face. regret starts to seep back into your thoughts. taking control from the control freak like this was beyond a bad idea. it was a violation of trust. regardless of how much progress you’d made with picking past miguel’s tough guy exterior, his open wounds were off limits.

miguel opens his mouth, and you brace yourself for the incoming insults and backlash. but for whatever reason, nothing comes out. miguel just shakes his head, muttering under his breath and pinching the bridge of his nose.

your hands fall limply to your side. slight fatigue aches in your muscles. today’s mission and orchestrating everything to make this little get together possible is taking its physical and mental toll.

looking towards the screen, you observe a wedding day scene playing out—a rare, relatively blood-free moment in the godfather. although you haven't watched the movie – at least, not recently – your intuition tells you that this is one of the few upbeat scenes. it seems like the perfect opportunity to sit down and immerse yourself in the movie.

from the corner of your eye, you notice that miguel's attention is also drawn to the tv, his expression still clouded with an emotional storm.

"you… wanna sit down?" you suggest cautiously. "enjoy some empanadas and ruthless mafia violence? maybe talk about our days…?"

miguel looks back at you, his frown deepening at the sight of your small, nervous smile. the unspoken turmoil within him seems to wrestle with the idea.

but he chooses to pull away. put up barriers. he lets out a heavy sigh before turning away from you, retracing his steps down the hallway he came from. the distance between you widens in more than just the physical sense.

fatigue weighs even heavier on your shoulders, both physically and emotionally. it squashes your desire to go after him, to admit you stepped way out of line. yet, deep down, you wish he would stay. just to make the apartment feel less stifling than it’s growing to be.

"mig… wait," you call out weakly, the ache in your chest and body mirroring the ache in your voice.

the sound of your voice hangs in the air. miguel ignores it, opening the bathroom door and quickly slipping inside. the door swings shut with a loud click. miguel seals himself away from you and any chance of immediate resolution.

a suffocating sense of disappointment settles over you. how could you have been so stupid?

with a heavy sigh, you make your way towards the couch. the sounds of the movie and the scent of empanadas fill the air, but they fail to mask the pain and loneliness that lingers.

miguel’s left you with the weight of your actions.

and according to your watch, you have two hours, fifty-six minutes, and thirteen seconds to review just how foolish and self-centered you were to think making miguel o'hara watch a movie with you would make his father’s day any less shitty.

[hufflefluff-stuff]

102 is quite a line 👀

Maybe an Ominis line 👀

tho I'm lost on a scenario, you got free reign on that!

Ooooo yes!! This reminds me of some angsty audio I heard on tiktok with Ominis saying "it's rotten work [about himself]" and MC replying "not to me" so that's the vibe we're going for.

MAJOR spoilers for endgame stuff ahead!

102) "I am damaged."

[Request more Angst/Horror prompts here!]

........

"I am damaged..."

That's the first thing you heard Ominis mutter to himself when he thought he was all alone in the Undercroft.

He hadn't realized you were there as well, quietly studying your books and trying to feel like a normal student for once.

Ever since you attended Hogwarts as a late bloomer, things were anything but normal from the get-go.

After saving the school (and more or less the entire wizarding world) from certain doom at the hands of Ranrok and Rookwood, you hoped to end this year on the best note possible. It was hard given all of the friends you've lost along the way, but a lot of good came out of it, too.

Ominis was one such example. Despite the rocky start you both had when he caught you sneaking out of the Undercroft that fateful day, you managed to make amends and grow closer together.

You never thought that same snobby blind boy who threatened to report you to the headmaster would be the one to confess his feelings for you.

It was in the days following you winning the house cup for [House], and when you finally had a moment alone to talk to him, he finally made his move. His way of courting you was so sweet and eloquent--fitting for the Slytherin from such a privileged class.

Of course other students had eyes for you, too, but Ominis loved you for who you are and not for your ancient magic and reputation as a "hero". Going on different adventures with you and Sebastian made him realize what kind of person you truly were:

An unreliable "acquaintance" of his best friend who reeked of distrust in the beginning, turned to a kind person who was always by his side through thick and thin in the end.

Now that you two have officially become a couple, you managed to coax him into accompanying you on more excursions both inside and outside of the castle.

Although he couldn't see the beauty of the world and all its magical creatures, you described it to him how ever you could--whether it's a Thestral resting underneath the ribcage of some enormous beast's skeleton, or the charred corpse of a spider you've just slain with Incendio. He loved how you spoke of them regardless of the scenario.

On top of that, you've taken up to helping more people in the local hamlets and villages, with Ominis reassuring them that he's not some cruel and mean Slytherin from the Gaunt family, and that he genuinely cared for their concerns.

However...your latest mission ultimately had taken a turn for the worst, and you had some serious regrets on taking your boyfriend along for the ride.

It seemed to be just like any other poacher camp you've shutdown. But the locals informed you that this one in particular was in charge of trafficking beast skins...or selling beasts to butchers.

You urged Ominis to discreetly free the creatures from their cages, taking out the nearby guards with Petrificus Totalus, while you ambushed the poachers on the other side of the camping grounds. But you both failed to realize that some of Rookwood's goons were among their midst, seeking to avenge him and make it very clear that you'll never be safe again.

He had every intention to murder you; you were just protecting yourself against his Killing Curse, though of course his gang wouldn't understand that. They just saw you and began throwing whatever spell they had at their disposal.

You took most of them down with ease, while Ominis finished freeing the last purple toad and rushed to assist you in the fight.

But then he stopped upon hearing three distinct things that would forever haunt him: A dark wizard shouting "Crucio", the sparks of electricity crackling in the air...

And your brief, yet painful, screams.

Despite his wand detecting only you and the one ashwinder casting the curse, he was frozen on the spot, unable to bring himself to move forward and save you. It was like somebody had casted Petrificus Totalus on him.

He could have taken them out right away, but...he was terrified.

Suddenly he felt like he was back in the Slytherin Scriptorium, where Sebastian had to cast the same curse on you in order to proceed forward--something Ominis had tried in vain to protest against.

He knew he wasn't there, it was all in his mind, yet all he could think about were your screams.

Then he thought about the screams of those innocent muggles he watched his family torture...before he remembered his own screams after they tortured him for refusing to use the curse, not giving up until he finally relented.

The rest of that moment was a blur, but at some point you managed to yank out a Mandrake from your bag and stun the ashwinder long enough to use Expelliarmus and lacerate their legs with Diffindo.

While that shrieking plant made Ominis briefly deaf, too, it snapped him out of his trance, bringing him back to reality as you rushed over to him. You fled the campsite together on Highwing's back, drinking some wiggenweld on your way back to the castle, not speaking until you were safely on schoolgrounds.

That all happened yesterday...and he was still quite distressed. He didn't seem comfortable talking about those events too much, and you couldn't blame him. So you left it be, apologizing for the stress you caused, and tried making it up to him with a trip into Hogsmede.

However, this morning you didn't find him in the Great Hall or anywhere in the Slytherin Section. Not even Sebastian knew of his whereabouts, assuming you "lost" him; fortunately there weren't many places that your boyfriend frequented.

The Undercroft was your next best guess.

Yet it was empty when you arrived, much to your annoyance.

You figured Ominis will eventually turn up here, so you transfigured a sofa out of some pile of armor and decided to catch up on your studies. But obviously it was hard to focus on the texts when all you could think about was him..

At some point he finally arrived, and you nearly jumped up to ask where the hell he's been...until he started mumbling rather concerning things to himself, apparently unaware of your presence.

Then you noticed he didn't have his wand in-hand, feeling the walls and eventually sitting down on the floor, leaning against one and curling up. He certainly knew the Undercroft's layout well enough to not need it constantly, but his behavior was still extremely concerning.

Especially his remark about being "damaged", which had you gravely worried about his physical well-being.

"Ominis, what do you mean by "damaged"? Are you hurt?"

"MC..?! Oh, Merlin..d-didn't realize you were here." Although startled at first, he quickly calmed down upon hearing your voice and approaching footsteps. "I'm alright. I was just...th-thinking up some poetry. You know, Thakkar has been giving me some really good advice-"

"Wow, you're a worse liar than I ever was," you chuckled lightly, kneeling down in front of him. "You know he's away on a family trip, right?"

"......."

"....Ominis?"

His silence worried you greatly, especially as he suddenly hid his face in his arms, now unwilling to look at you for some reason.

"If you wanna hide from me, love, Disillusionment is more-"

"D-Do...I even deserve to be called that anymore?" He mumbled in a trembling voice that made your stomach sink.

"....huh? Of course you do." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's going on? You can be honest with me. If...I did something to upset you recently, I'm sorry-"

"No. You...d-don't have to be sorry about anything. It's me who should be the sorry one."

"Darling, what do you mean-?"

"Stop. Please. I-I think the proper term is "bloody stinking coward". I could have stopped that ashwinder f-from using the Cruciatus Curse...he was right there and I could have done something! But I didn't!" Ominis began to ramble, unable to stop his voice from shaking and rising in volume. "I-I stood there like a bumbling half-witted mooncalf wh-while he tortured you!"

You frowned slightly, gently setting your hands on his arms as you finally understood why he was so distraught. "Ominis, you were occupied in freeing all those beasts. You can't be in two places at once, and I'm not angry at you for that. And besides, the curse didn't hurt me badly this time. I know it scares you, but...."

However you trailed off as he lifted his head, and your heart cracked in two upon seeing the tears streaking down his face like rivers of salt water.

Only now did you realize what he meant by feeling "damaged"---and it wasn't in the physical sense. But the emotional.

"That's exactly my problem...I was too scared to do anything." He shuddered. "Wh-Who just stands by and...and lets their fears of the past consume them?! And nearly gets the love of their life killed because of it?!! That's something only a broken person does, MC...someone who's far too damaged t-to stand up for-"

"Don't say that. Nothing about you is "broken" or "damaged"." You pulled him into your arms, feeling him fall completely limp against you. "You are the furthest thing from either of those."

For a few moments, he was silent as he absorbed your words. But when he tried to respond, all that came from his lips was something between a gasp and a loud sob. He choked out an apology for losing his composure so quickly, though you just hushed him.

"Shhhh, it's okay." You held him tighter than ever, keeping one hand on the back of his head. ''Just let it all out. I'm not going anywhere, my love. And I mean that..I still love you."

With trembling hands, Ominis grasped onto your cloak, tears soaking into your shoulder as he allowed all of his emotions to spill. His sobs echoed freely in the Undercroft, not caring about anything anymore; not even if Sebastian were to walk in right now.

After all that's happened this year, it was just too much for him to keep locked inside: he lost his oldest friend to the Dark Arts, Anne was likely never going to reach out to him again....all that he really had left was you.

Yet he felt like none of his experiences made him any stronger, unlike you--who also lost so much and, at the same time, gained great powers that allowed you to protect those dearest to you.

But who would be there to protect you?

That's where Ominis came into the picture, wanting to fight for you after everything you've done to save Hogwarts. His worst fear was losing you forever anytime you went off on a dangerous mission. So he actually insisted on going out with you more often to put his mind at ease..plus he wanted to be sure you're not doing something too reckless.

But if he was only going to freeze up every time some dark wizard merely spoke the incantation of a certain Unforgivable....then how could he ever hope to save you when you needed him most?

He felt pathetic and useless, essentially forcing you to figure out how to escape that situation yourself while he stood there like some idiot.

What if you didn't conveniently have a Mandrake tucked in your bag? What if you had been in too much pain to grab it?

What then?

At that point, he felt like he was too broken to be with someone as strong as you. This relationship was done for, he believed, and sooner or later you'd grow tired of his cowardice and resent him for not stepping in.

He thought you were going to break it off for sure now that you see how "difficult" he was being.

But that was far from the truth. You didn't shun him or demand an explanation for why he acted the way he did. Instead you let him cry in your arms--something that no one in his life offered when he was at his lowest--staying here in this safe haven together and reaffirming your love for him.

He didn't know whether to feel grateful or selfish.

"I-I tried, MC..I..I really tried to help you." He wept, his face now buried in your neck. "But I guess I'm...just doomed to hurt everyone around me. That's all I'm good at."

"You're not doomed to live that way, Ominis. You haven't hurt me at all, and I know damn well you'd never hurt anybody on purpose."

"Really? T-Tell that to my family...we were monsters who tortured and killed muggles for fun-"

"They did that for fun, not you. You're not a monster like them. I know this because you refused to follow in their footsteps. And by Merlin, I'm glad you were a stubborn child..even after all they put you through." You softly spoke, kissing his head as you felt his arms tighten their hold around you. "All I see now is someone who's even stronger than them, with a good heart that would've won him a spot in Gryffindor for sure."

"....w-with Prewett, Weasley, and all those twits? I don't think so.." He chuckled lightly, sniffling as he rested his head on your shoulder and fell quiet. He felt a lot calmer than before, sighing tiredly. "..I'm sorry. I-It was never my intention to burden you with this, love. You already deal with so much. I just wish I...could've been just a bit stronger for you."

"Don't worry about me, okay?" You smiled. Even though he couldn't see it, you hoped he'd at least imagine it. "I saw how sneaky you were around those poachers. You petrified them before they even knew what hit 'em."

"Of course. I had to do something, right?" He huffed, although he smiled a little bit.

"You did great, darling. If the beasts could talk, I'd say they'd be thanking you over and over. You saved their lives. They probably think you as their hero."

"I thought it was that Hufflepuff girl's job to be the "hero of beasts"...but I don't mind that title, too."

A calming silence fell over you two, save for Ominis' light sniffles. But eventually he was the first to let go, his hands reaching for the sides of your face moments later, wanting to ensure you weren't injured at all.

You helped guide him there, your skin growing warm at his touch. He felt around for any recent scarring or bruising across your flesh, being grateful that he found nothing of the sort.

Meanwhile, you kept smiling as you observed his own face. Although he looked like a complete mess after all that crying, he still managed to appear quite handsome in your eyes.

You knew he desperately needed that outlet, and you were happy he finally confided in you.

At the end of the day, you'll love him no matter what.