#the prowler x oc

[dreadheadmadi]

- I’M GONNA CLAW THOSE PRETTY LITTLE EYES OUT: Prologue

Pairing: The Prowler (Aaron Davis) x Black Cat Variant! OC

TW: murder, blood, graphic descriptions, cursing, gore, death, strong language

A/N: Please note that all my OCs are Black; of course, this doesn't mean that if you aren't Black, you can't read it. Just please be respectful. If you enjoyed this chapter, let me know by reblogging or just dm me! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I hope you have a wonderful day or night; bye, angel!

BLACKWOOD MANOR loomed on the outskirts of New York like a gothic monolith, its sprawling grounds shrouded in mist and mystery; its imposing design was a testament to the wealth and power of its enigmatic owner, the elusive billionaire Alexander Blackwood. The grandeur of the mansion enveloped the night like a cloak of decadence, its opulence a stark contrast to the darkness that seeped through its polished corridors.

Usually, the manor would lay dormant and dark, with no sounds or persons going in or out. However, tonight was a special night, a masquerade-themed birthday, of whom it belonged to but none other than Alexander Blackwood's spouse. She was different from her loner husband - a city girl and an active member of New York's rich folk. Such a figure would earn as many friends and connections as possible - and she invited them all. Within the manor's walls, the wealthy elite danced and revealed, their laughter echoing against the marble floors as they indulged in the spoils of their privilege.

Among them, Alexander's favorite niece, Sofia Blackwood, navigated the sea of masked faces, her steps hesitant as she struggled to mask her discomfort beneath a façade of poise and grace. That night, she mustered the courage to ask her uncle to fund her college education, considering that her parents disapproved of her choice of study and promised to cut ties if she pursued it.

The air was heavy with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sickly sweetness of excess, but beneath it, a palpable tension lurked—a sense of impending doom that clung to the shadows like a vengeful specter. As the night wore on and inhibitions faded, Sofia was drawn to a secluded balcony overlooking the sprawling gardens below. She needed a moment to think, to gather herself before locating her uncle. Taking deep breaths, Sofia closed her eyes before looking at the scenery. A small smile appeared as she reminisced about when her uncle would play tag with her in the garden - tiny Sofia would run around the hedges, past the fountain, and up the staircase leading back to the manor as Alexander chased her. As her eyes followed the path, her smile quickly dropped as a cold chill shot through her blood.

There, amidst the ivy-covered trellises and moonlit fountains, she stumbled upon a sight that would forever haunt her nightmares. A figure lay sprawled across the cold stone tiles—a man, his once-immaculate tuxedo now stained with the crimson evidence of his demise. His eyes, wide with terror, stared unseeing into the night while multiple grotesque gashes marred his throat, the blood still warm and viscous against his pallid skin.

Sofia recoiled in horror, bile rising in her throat as she struggled to comprehend the brutality of the scene before her. The metallic tang of blood filled her nostrils, and she fought to suppress the urge to hurl as the reality of the situation washed over her in sickening waves. Instead of vomit coming out of her mouth, a guttural, heart-wrenching shriek replaced it. Multiple footsteps rush towards her before halting abruptly, filling the evening atmosphere with their wails. Around her, the party descended into chaos, the revelry shattered by the specter of death that now loomed over them all. Sofia was grabbed by her mother and father and ushered into an enclosed room where she finally regurgitated her evening meal onto the pristine marble floors.

Guests screamed and fled in panic, their masks slipping in their haste to escape the scene of the carnage unfolding before their eyes. All but one remained rooted to the spot, their gaze fixed on the lifeless form before them. Taking off their mask reveals a Black man with a scowl so deep in hatred that one would have thought he was the one who committed the murder. His dark brown eyes glower down at the body before being covered by the full face mask again. Quickly, he returned to the building, stomping down the velvet-covered stairs and pushing his way to the front of the small crowd around the crime scene.

As the crowd prayed, cried, and cursed the murderer to hell, the man's eyes focused on the wound on his neck. The gashes weren't a nice clean slice as if it were with a standard knife; they were thinner, deeper, and jagged with bits of flesh dangling and sticking out on the sides. No, a knife hadn't done this, but a set of claws-

"It was the Prowler!" a voice declared, "Look at the claw marks! That fucking bastard killed Alex!"

"I heard he's working with Fisk now. That fucking mammoth hated Alexander," another voice added, "He probably put a hit out."

"But on his wife's birthday? At a big event like this when we're all here?" A third chimed in. The second shook his head while pointing to Alexander's dead body.

"You don't know those men like I do; Alex was his number one enemy. When Fisk's family died, he asked Alex to help with some investments on some secret project; the hell if I know what it is. Alex said the fucker went batshit crazy when he lost his wife and was all over the news saying it too. It was supposed to be a wake-up call, but Fisk took that as disrespect and has been an enemy to the Blackwood family ever since. Dropping sponsorships, buying out companies, blocking his political power, I know that son of a bitch got something to do with this!"

The first voice suddenly reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a gun. "Fuck," he spat, "Fuck, fuck! To fucking hell with Fisk! I was THIS close to buying off those fucking votes! All that money gone to shit - where the FUCK is that purple bastard?! I'm putting a bullet through his head and then into Fisk's next!" With the sudden uproar, the first voice stormed back into the manor, which prompted others to do the same, all looking for the Prowler. He was already gone, however - he snuck out of the manor and into the thicket surrounding the manor, climbing onto his motorcycle and speeding off towards Brooklin. As he blares down the road, he tears off his mask again - brown eyes darkened as a single thought runs through his head.

That bitch stole my fucking kill.

Aaron swore to his momma that he’d never hit a girl, but this bitch was asking for it. It wasn’t the first time Black Cat had killed someone on his list; no, it’s been months since their first encounter. But for how long will this keep happening? The year is almost over, and he’s only been responsible for the deaths of four unlucky souls. Four, while she had six. Five of which were stolen right from his grasp. To say he was upset is an understatement. Annoyed? Oh, that’s long gone. Pissed? Maybe two months ago. Enraged? Closer, but not quite.

It’s gotten to the point where his work has become sloppy - disregarding his usual planned and strategic approach for a quicker and easier route just in case she was around. One time he even took a gunshot to his shoulder because of his blatant tunnel vision - Fisk gave him shit for it and benched him for a few weeks to heal before shoving him back into work. Aaron figures he’s going to be hooked on painkillers for a long while.

Speaking of the Kingpin, Aaron wasn’t sure how to explain what happened tonight, hell he doesn’t even know what happened tonight. All he knew was that he had only been at the party for around fifteen to twenty minutes before Sophia’s screams were heard. The party had only been going on for about ten minutes before he arrived, so within that thirty-minute window, Black Cat had arrived at the party, isolated Alexander, and killed him.

Based on his wounds, Aaron deduced that they weren’t deep enough to make a swift and easy kill. As he studied the evidence photos of Alexander after he hacked into the BPD police files, he zoomed in closely on the gashes. While it did look like claw marks, they were uneven and choppy. It wasn’t a clean strike either - it was slanted and angled more vertically than anything. A clear indication of a height difference, Aaron noted.

Alexander was six feet tall exactly; if Black Cat had struggled to get to his neck, she’d be closer to five feet in height, five feet and five inches at max. Aaron paused and wondered if she were wearing heels or platforms that night - it would make sense, considering she’d have to blend into a masquerade-styled party. That would put her shorter than five feet and five inches, the average height for women in Brooklyn. He wrote that down on a notepad and kept examining the photos.

The pieces of flesh that stuck out kept drawing his attention. It looked like the results of his prototype claw gauntlets. They were made of random and uncut metals that weren't accurately measured or maintained. The metal would often be too sharp or dull and get stuck underneath the victim’s skin due to the curvature of the claws. Once he drew back his hand, he would quite literally rip out the area of flesh he had made contact with. While it got the job done, it was a messy and loud kill, prompting him to update his weapon.

It was evident to Aaron that Black Cat’s weapon was similar to his prototype; however, one thing still bothered him - it was a silent kill. The initial contact had been on the side of his neck, still leaving enough airway to scream out for help or in pain. No one heard anything, and according to the witness statements, no one had noticed that Alexander was not present at the party. Aaron frowned at that detail - Alexander Blackwood wasn’t stupid. Someone, be it a guard or even his wife, had to have known he was separating himself from the partygoers. A man who has many enemies wouldn’t dare leave without alerting someone.

Another thing that bothered him was that Alexander wasn’t some snobby old rich guy. Blackwood was a black belt in his youth; he competed in and eventually founded various boxing matches and fight clubs across the United States. He was highly trained in artillery and probably would have been a military commander by now if he wasn’t in control of New York’s corrupt legal system. Simply put, Alexander Blackwood was a force to be reckoned with, just to be cut down by some female in a black leather jumpsuit. It just didn’t make sense.

All of Black Cat’s six kills before Alexander Blackwood had been young men and women of minor importance—quick money, as Aaron called it. The targets Fisk had assigned to the Prowler were gang leaders, drug dealers, and old henchmen whom Fisk no longer needed. This jump from stepping on an ant to straight-up maiming a lion was highly unusual for some uptown thief in a bodysuit. A whole year with little to no gains was starting to get to the mercenary; he needed to get to the bottom of this shit and quickly.

Aaron rubbed his hand across his face and turned towards another monitor, clicking on Google and searching up “Black Cat Brooklin.” He was hoping something new would pop up, but all he found were a few articles and stories he’d already researched.

There was a video that had gone viral a month ago; it was the CCTV footage of a jewelry store that the villainess had broken into. She wore her classic attire, mask, and a white straightened angled bob. Strolling around the store, she opened the displays and bagged all the merchandise, even trying on some and posing in a mirror hanging on the wall. Afterward, she shouldered the duffel bag, blew a kiss at the camera, and left out of the vent system she had used to get into the building. The uproar on memes and parodies of the event were all over Aaron’s feed for days. Women were gushing over her bad bitch aura, creating fan pages, and even going out and buying white wigs, dyes, and bundles just to look like her. And, of course, the men were practically fapping their dicks, saying how she was too delicate to go to prison, how they too would steal some shit in this economy; they were lowkey gassing her up more than the women did.

Aaron didn’t care enough to have an opinion; at that time, she was just some thief. But it’s different now, he thought, she’s more than a thief, she’s a killer. This year was the first year of her dipping her toes into homicide, and from Aaron’s knowledge, she hadn’t even been caught yet. Aaron wondered if those men and women would still support her after it’s exposed that she killed six people in over a year, but he figured they probably still would - the world is fucking crazy nowadays.

Right now at the moment, he was just mindlessly scrolling, clicking on the fan pages and profiles for any information he could gain on her. And then, after refreshing for the tenth time, a new video popped up titled “BLACK CAT HAS A NEW WEAPON (and it reminds me of someone 🤔) | New Look, New Tactics.” Aaron immediately clicked on the video and recognized the person in the commentary as an influencer who was one of the ones who made the robbing video famous by creating a whole trend based on it. The video started with random filler topics, which Aaron graciously skipped through before getting down to the central part of the video.

“Okay, guys, so let’s get to the tea; last night, Black Cat was seen scaling buildings and rooftops downtown with a new look, baby! Let’s look at what Miss Cat got going on for us,” the influencer starts, clicking on a Twitter thread showing a few off-guard pictures and videos of the thief.

“Oh, my God, you guys! Look at that fur, okay, hold on, I’m getting ahead of myself,” she laughed before viewing the first picture and zooming in. “Okay, first thing’s first, that hair, baby! Miss Cat said new hair, new me, and rocking this new do! Gone is her angled bob, replaced with these cute goddess passion twists; I love this! Of course, it’s colored in her signature platinum. Is it platinum? Platinum feels more yellow to me, maybe just plain white? Or maybe more like a frosty white, you know? Yeah, let’s go with that, haha! Edges are laid to perfection, makeup always looking fresh, ugh I’m telling all of you Miss Cat needs to open up shop cause I would pay-“

Aaron skipped ahead a little more; it’s nothing new that Black Cat constantly changed up her hairstyle and makeup looks. It's a smart move, considering how easy it is to track someone nowadays. Her indecisiveness is the sole reason no one has found out who she is; by the time they get comfortable with one look, it’s on to the next.

“Alright, so let’s talk about this new suit. So, I do get why most people say this isn’t a new suit. I mean, it is just the same suit with more fur, probably to keep warm since we are in winter, but I like to call it a new suit solely for these!” The influencer moves to the following picture, a close-up of Black Cat’s arms - which had two slender gauntlets with claw-like attachments. Aaron sat up and leaned towards the screen. Those looked familiar - real fucking familiar.

“That’s right, guys, Black Cat has a new weapon! This kitty has claws, and she is not afraid to use them! Many people say they love it; it’s on brand with the whole cat thing and a way better choice than the staff she used. I love the claws; they bring her a new, dangerous vibe. Like, before, she was just this common thief we all made jokes about, but now it’s like, damn, she's pretty serious about this. Miss Cat said to put some respect on her name; she isn’t any weak runt of the litter; she is THE Black Cat. Quit playing with her; this is serious business! Now, next, we have a quick little video of this new weapon in action, but before that, a quick word from our sponsor-“

Yeah, no, fuck that. Aaron skips again to where the video starts, and his leg bounces. There’s no way, there’s no fucking way, right? Right?

The video in the thread plays, and it shows Black Cat using the claws to climb up a brick wall, leaving significant scratch marks and puncture holes etched into the concrete. Then, once on top of the roof, she raises her hand and flexes it, which seems to trigger some mechanism as the claw part of the gauntlet shoots out and attaches itself to the edge of another roof two buildings across. Black Cat then runs and jumps off the roof she was currently on and uses the rope-like connection lodged between the claw part and the rest of the gauntlet. She swings towards the building, and on the video, the connection shortens, creating a grappling hook. The video shows her safely landing and repeating the action for another building before it ends.

The video cuts back to the influencer as she comments, “So, as we can see, it’s like a grappling hook, kind of? That’s cool; I wish I had a grappling hook. Then I could properly get to work on time when there’s traffic-“

Aaron exits the video before finding the Twitter thread and checking the comments. There are screenshots of the gauntlet from different angles and a few claims that it had sometimes glowed purple. After reading more and more comments about the description of the gauntlet, Aaron leans back in his chair and blinks.

That’s my gauntlet, he thinks; that’s my prototype.

Immediately, he calls Fisk - the one person Aaron trusted enough to leave the prototype with due to his high-security level warehouses and marked a sign of mutual trust between the two business partners. After quickly catching Fisk up to date, Fisk left to check the warehouse himself before confirming that the prototype was indeed missing - stating that they had numerous techs slowly disappear since the end of the previous year but couldn’t pin who it was or how they broke in.

The whole reason he wanted Alexander dead was because he was the only other person who knew where Fisk’s warehouses were, so the Kingpin thought he was the one who did it. Regardless, Fisk seemed intrigued that Aaron had made the connection to Black Cat, but Aaron was too busy breathing fire to even tune in on what the Kingpin was saying, causing him to drop the line altogether.

Aaron could feel the uncomfortable heat of anger creeping up his spine and seeping into his brain, as he returned to the thread and checked the new comments.

It didn't take long before the public started to bring up the Prowler’s weapon and their similarities. After rewatching the video five more times, Aaron noticed the prototype was tampered with. Every major flaw Aaron had trouble with had been fixed to a degree. Aaron closed his eyes and leaned back, his leg bouncing rapidly before suddenly stopping.

“It’s my prototype, he mumbles, “And she fixed it. She took my shit and made it better.” He slowly opens his eyes; green envy returns to his dark brown eyes. “First, she steals my kills, and now she steals my tech,” he chuckles before laughing and slamming his palm down onto his desk. “I am,” he laughs, “I am going to fucking end this bitch.”

Tag list: @mordeiswrld @arielpanda1 @young-dc @fossilizedbeetle @super-nova-2006 @chelsea-xxx2003 @fandom-multiamory @leahnicole1219

[aspenaspid]

He was a liar.

He senses it—those moments when the chasm between them widens into an abyss she can't ignore. His glances are shards of ice compared to the warmth she remembers from the other Hobie, the one she's half in love with or maybe more. He's flying blind, guided only by the scraps she's thrown him about his alter-ego, a shadow from another universe.

If only he could pry into the mind of his doppelgänger, hack into those comforting gestures—those fleeting touches, the weight of an arm around her shoulder while they endure Miguel's monologues. Then he could puppeteer her emotions more deftly. As it stands, he's forced to watch her, hesitating, her eyes seeking answers in his before her lips curve into that hesitant smile.

He gets lucky sometimes. His essence is, after all, cut from the same cosmic cloth—just colored by different shades of hell. Those instances, those fractions of seconds when their habits born of survival overlap, he sees her body language uncoil, sees her let down her guard.

Occasionally, his fingers will lift her chin after their conversations, a shared intimacy he never meant but she recognizes. And for that instant, her eyes ignite, betraying what words were never meant to express.

He toys with the idea of unraveling around her, letting his uncalculated instincts sync with her reality. But he knows the precipice he's on—that one wrong move could snap the tenuous thread connecting them, making all his sugar-coated lies worthless.

Anika's naive, but not a fool. If the discord between the two Hobies becomes glaring, even her raging passion won't salvage the wreckage.

Hobie is a man more often at war with the world than with himself. His decisions, usually calculated to the nth degree, rarely leave him in limbo. But as he lies on her bed, staring at the ceiling while she's out fighting her own battles, he's torn—wrestling with whether his newfound vulnerability is a tactical move or a desire he dares not admit.

[hobiebrownismygod]

Masterlist!

Taglist link:

REQS ARE OPEN!!

I write fluff, angst, toxic relationships, headcanons, basically anything that doesn't involve smut!!

Fanfictions/Headcanons:

Hobie Brown:

Hobie seeing the sunset for the first time in Pav's universe

—> “like what you see?”

Hobie Brown is emotionally unavailable/struggles with showing emotions

Hobie brown x GN!Reader

—> hobie comfort - “I just need you”

Hobie Brown x Desi!Reader

Hobie Brown/ Spider Punk x GN!Reader

—> “it’s spiderMAN”

Hobie x Flexible!Spider-person Reader

—> “freaks me out”

Toxic Relationship - Hobie brown x Reader/OC

Hobie Brown x Gwen Stacy Variant

—> “I can’t lose her”

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

--> Such a lovely face

StreetKid!Hobie x Fem!Reader

--> "you can thank me by staying safe"

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

--> Sketching out chaos

Pavitr Prabhakar:

Pavitr Prabhakar x Indian!reader - Platonic

—> “us desi’s gotta stick together, right?”

Pavitr Prabhakar x Fem!PakistaniReader

—> “you love me, Meri Jaan”

Pavitr Prabhakar headcanons

Miles G Morales/Prowler Miles:

Miles G Morales/Prowler Miles Headcanons

Miles-42 x GN!Reader

—> “who gave you the right?”

Miles-42 x Gwen-42 Part 1 - First Look

Miles-42 x Gwen-42 Part 2 - Silent Sketches

Prowler Miles x Reader - Wattpad Fic

--> be careful, its dangerous out there

Gwen Stacy:

-None yet

1610-Miles:

Rising - Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

—> Uncle Aaron is dead, but the Prowler returns.

Miguel O'Hara:

Miguel O'Hara x Desi!Reader - Wedding Edition

--> “it’s a date”

Note: Feel free to leave requests for any of these characters, or more if you can think of them <3 Heads up, I usually post requested fanfictions anywhere from 4-14 days after receiving the ask, due to my queue usually being pretty filled up.

Researching Characters Series:

Part 1 - Hobie Brown

Part 2 - Pavitr Prabhakar

Part 3 - Miles G./Prowler Miles

Part 4 - Spider-Noir/Peter Benjamin Parker

Part 5 - Peni Parker

Part 6 - Margo Kess/Spyder-Byte

Part 7 - Malala Windsor/Spider-UK

My OC:

Introduction - Meet Maitreyi Jokhar!

Spider-Sona Art

Universe Building

Headcanon 1 - She practices her skills in her free time

Headcanon 2 - Hobie seeing her cry for the first time

Headcanon 3 - First Diwali

Backstory Part 1

Backstory Part 2

Backstory Part 3

Backstory Part 4

BTW I write longer ATSV Fanfics on Wattpad

You can access my profile here

[ch3rryb00m98]

Fun redraw! Trying to save the city, only slightly panicking…

[burntpastel]

plops my oc here. this is Mac! (they/them)

[multifariousqueer]

Y’all oml Tumblr didnt put a review on my earth42!miles smut hcs

[kuvstark]

SPIDER-MAN: PROLOGUE TO BEYOND THE SPIDER-VERSE

UM, EXCUSE ME MISTER, BUT CAN YOU PLEASE TURN DOWN THE LIGHTS? I DONT REALLY LIKE ALL THESE CAMERAS, MAN AND THIS SHIT JUST DONT FEEL RIGHT.

a potential fanfic idea: where there is a spider person in earth-42

warning: tiny bit of spoilers for across the spider verse

basically, another power-hungry scientist similar to the spot would find out that a organization like oscorp industries were conducting research/experiments on genetically modified, radioactive spiders, with the possibilities that it’s genetic modifications would give a person superpowers when bit.

granted, the person decides to steal one of the spiders to test it themselves. then, they come home one night and the spider is just gone. of course, they start panicking because they can’t find said spider, and that means it’s loose (and it ends up biting a fifteen year old girl with no desire to be spider-man, and shit just starts hitting the fan)

the character would get bit at the end of across the spider-verse, so while everyone is worried about the spot and catching miles, no one would know about her presence/or about the fact that she recently got bit and she just kind of gets dragged into everything without warning.

note: this is a brief idea, I’m open to any suggestions/ideas if this becomes a potential fanfic

[html-nae]

Sooooo this is a sneak peak at the fight scene… IT WILL BE CREED!CODED but hush and ITS NOT THE ENTIRE THING I might make it a series depending on how this sneak peak goes but this is not the beginning nor is it the end of the au

[c17spacefriend17c]

Do we fw WritersClaw…..

Selfship and ocxcanon has been consuming me lately so guys HELP ME PLEASE WHAFAGQG

[tikiki05]

I’ve been seeing lots of chatter from people wanting more fanfic of Earth-42 Miles Morales, so I thought I’d post this fun snippet of him from chapter 9 of my story Prowls for Silk where the Morales’s and the Devis have dinner together!

It’s him talking with his mom and then chatting with the Earth-42 variations of my OCs Jordan and Riley. Riley’s the same age as Miles and goes to Visions Academy with him. They’ve been friends since childhood but have had some turbulence in their friendship due to their own struggles in life. If you guys like it, maybe I’ll post the other Miles snippets from this story? Let me know!

Evening. While Rio rushed to cook a large dinner for her family and their expected guests, Miles was setting the table with plates and cutlery.

“Mijo, you all ready?”

“Yes, mami,” He replied in a slight groan.

“Hey, what’s with the attitude?”

“I don’t have an attitude,” He retorted.

Frowning, Rio went over and held Miles shoulders. “Look, I know you’re not crazy about family gatherings like this, but this means a lot to me. And your uncle, too. I promise we won’t keep you too long, alright? And you can catch up with Riley! That’ll be nice, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess,” He said with a little smile. “It’s just…gonna feel weird having so many people here.”

Rio sighed and nodded her head.

“I get it. Everything will be fine, I promise. You got everything else ready? You got clean clothes on? You smell good?”

“Yes mom,” Miles answered in slight embarrassment.

At that moment, Aaron stepped through the front door with Vinex, Jordan, and Riley after picking them all up in his car. They were each dressed nicer than usual, appropriate for an evening with close family friends.

Rio quickly went over to greet Vinex with a tight hug that was gladly returned.

“Hey you! Ay me, it’s been too long since I’ve last seen you!”

“The same to you, Rio! You look lovely!”

“Please, you’re one to talk with your fancy new chest! Am I allowed to say they look great?”

Vinex let out a hearty laugh while nodding their head, a little embarrassed but mostly delighted at the compliment.

Jordan went over to Miles. “Hey dude! How ya been?”

“I’ve been fine, how’re you?”

“Good, good. The braids are still looking fresh, you’re taking good care of them.”

“Thanks, I’m doing my best, Uncle Aaron helps me a lot.”

“Think you’ll get twists like me one day?”

“Hey, maybe.”

Riley then stepped over, subtly tapping on Jordans hand. Riley always struggled with conversation, and wanted their fathers help.

“Oh, hey, so how’s school going for you two?”

Jordan asked them both.

Miles shrugged. “Fine I guess. I hate the uniforms though, I’ll never get used to it.”

“Same, the colors on them are awful,” Riley agreed.

Miles smirked. “Nah, it’s a good thing you’re in that uniform. Your style’s so trashy.”

“Duh, that’s the point, that’s why I like it.”

“You like everything you own in hot pink and zebra print?”

“And Hello Kitty, don’t forget that.”

“You’re weird.”

“Your face is weird.”

Jordan then cut off the lighthearted roasting. “You’re both weird, especially at being friends.”

“He hates me cause I’m brave,” Riley crossed their arms.

“Yeah, you’d have to be brave to wear what you do outside of school.”

Rio then stepped over. “Are you still having an attitude?”

“It’s fine Rio, they’re just teasing each other, nothing new,” Jordan reassured.

[dreadheadmadi]

- I’M GONNA CLAW THOSE PRETTY LIL’ EYES OUT MASTERLIST

Parings: The Prowler (Aaron Davis) x Black Cat Variant! OC

Warnings: action, fighting, blood, gore, descriptive language, death, murder, cussing, strong language, kidnapping, gun violence, stalking, torture, manipulation

A/N: Trying something new, we’ll see how this goes. I’m a college girlie, so updates are slow!

OC Descriptions + Character Wikis

PROLOGUE

[xxoxobree]

I’m thinking about getting Myself some Miles Morales merch cause duhhh!!! I’m also thinking about giving away a single item of said merchandise. Good idea ? No ? 👀

Comment if you’d want it , dm, inbox whatever🤷🏽‍♀️

Must be a follower of ya girl 🙃

[zomoid]

Them again

[ch3rryb00m98]

Another redraw! Titan and Kid Cosmic working together💙💜

[green-ville]

Unravel

TW: Violence. G*nfire. G*n related de@th.

             Synopsis: Miguel O’Hara thought she was an anomaly. An accident. A mistake. That she shouldn’t exist. Really, it was his fault for opening up the other worlds of possibilities for her. It was his actions that showed her the multiverse. The endless possibilities at the turn of a watch.

           She may not have had the same story, but she was not Spiderman. She had said it since day one. Spiderman is dead, and his enemies now get her instead.

           She was Recluse. She would not let Spiderman’s death go unavenged.

 Chapter 1:

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

             The city walked below. Hues of teal green and ochre blended together to illuminate the night life. The party goers, the party leavers, the quiet couples having dinner, the friend groups that met up once in a blue moon. The night shift rushing to work.

           The sky was clouded over. It was always dark now, even during the day. Surely that was a sign of the times.

           Down below, a hooded figure ran. A helpless victim screamed over a lost possession.

           Several blocks away, one drivers mistake led to a car pile-up. Ambulances blared towards the scene. Blue and red mixed in with the teal and ochre, sirens singing their cry.

           A different street. A gunshot rang out.

           Always something.

           The city had fallen, the residents succumbing to their intrusive thoughts.

           What if I killed this man? No one was going to stop me. Not with Kingpin ruling.

           As long as it’s not Kingpins bank, he won’t care if I rob this one.

           This old lady doesn’t have long to live anyway. I need the money more than her.

           There’s nothing left to live for. If I crash at this speed, I’ll have peace right away.

           That was the problem with intrusive thoughts. They were supposed to stay intrusive. When they became extrusive. . .

           A figure swept down from above.

           The hooded criminal running with stolen goods fell to the ground, ankles wrapped up in spider webs. He knocked himself out falling, his landing hard, his forehead smacking concrete.

           Pedestrians looked up and found no one.

           A different street.

           The pile up. Five cars. A figure landed on the top car with the sound of a gentle thud. Gas trickled from that car all the way down. The smell of it almost overpowered the stench of failure and crime. Not all the way.

           The figure crouched down and ripped off the car door, throwing it to the side. It skidded on the sidewalk, missing a pedestrian, but centimeters from cutting them with its sharp metal. The figure reached down, yanked a person out. With their left hand they flicked their wrist to a nearby building. A spiderweb shot out at the action and splattered on a building wall, and they connected the opposite end to the person, letting the web yank them away.

           They kicked the top car down, it rolled onto the concrete, crunching more and more on the journey. It settled as two more people were swinging to the sidelines, a spider web taking them to safety.

           Six people in total rescued, two children. Those were the living. The causer of the accident was dead. The first person to hit them was dead. They were set to the side, a safe distance away that when the gasoline that had already leaked hit the small engine fire and everything blew up, they weren’t harmed any further.

           The figure vanished with that ball of fire and the next time they landed it was in front of the figure that had shot the gun. The gunman didn’t wear a mask, didn’t conceal his identity by any means, and he certainly did not run in panic.

           No. His father would get him out of anything he did.

           When the figure dropped in front of him, he stopped.

           He grinned. “Busy night, Spiderman?”

           The figure raised a gun and shot him point black. His head knocked back first. His arms raising up as the momentum drove him back. He hit the ground with a thud, eyes shut.

           “Spiderman is dead,” the figure said. Deep voice. Emotionless. Flat. “You get me. As will your father, Richard Fisk.”

           The figure re-holstered the gun. A piece of paper appeared in their hand and they tossed it as they shot into the sky, web sweeping them away. The piece of paper floated back and forth, back and forth. . .it set gently on the dead man’s chest.

           It read: To Mr. Pin. Do I have your attention now?

 ~

           “That spider fiend finally disappears and crime rages. I’ll admit when I’m wrong, maybe the maniac did some good. But this lunatic?” James Jonah Jameson shouted at the camera. “Killing off Kingpin’s biggest allies and sending him into a rage? Killing off his son in the middle of a street, with a gun no less, like a common criminal? That’s what they are! They’re a criminal! A menace to society that doesn’t need any more menacing!”

           The figure stared at the large billboard that played the news. They stood on the edge of a building, close enough where a sane person would immediately lose their balance and fall. They were as still as the dead.

           The wind breezed past lightly, seeping around their uniform.

           Their uniform. Yes. It was what they called it. Others called it a costume. A mask to hide behind. They weren’t wrong with that one, it was a mask. She just wasn’t hiding.

           Her uniform bore the resemblance to Spiderman’s in design and detail, but the color was all black. Her cape was purple, the same shade and shape as the Prowlers cape. Almost the exact same thing. . .The mask was eerily similar to what the Vulture had worn. Smaller, no doubt. The differences subtle. . .but the resemblance was uncanny.

           Her arms spread out, a hug to the world. Her head raised to the dark sky, face hidden behind the stolen mask and stolen hooded cape. She tilted forward slowly, breaching the point where sane, healthy people began to spiral, windmill their arms, scream – she kicked off the last second, and the push was enough to have her diving away from the building.

           The wind soared past, blowing her hood back, but her mask remained in place. Revealing green eyes. Revealing black hair tightly braided back.

           A web shot out from her wrist, latching onto the part of the ceiling she kicked off from. It pulled on her and she was no longer going away from the building, but towards it again,

           Her reflection in the windows grew larger. She saw her target. The gunfire from the hired goons started. Her thumb pressed a concealed clicker and the windows blew as her distraction, a rain of glass blowing in and out.

           She detached from her web, soared through the fire and smoke and glass, and webs shot in every direction. Two men were yanked together, their collision would knock them out. One guard had their gun pulled away and someone else, in an attempt to shoot her, shot them instead. She shot the shooter back.

           One foot landed on the large desk of the man she sought. Her other foot slammed into the large man’s shoulder, shoving him back into the wall. It wasn’t a hard landing, she was perfectly still, entirely in control.

           She held a gun to his head.

           “If it isn’t the itsy bitsy spider.” The Kingpin greeted, staring at her, not the barrel to his forehead. “What can I do for you?”

           It was the confidence that she wasn’t going to shoot. That he could make her an offer so amazing that she put the gun away and fell under his service. It was cockiness that he could talk his way out of anything, or at least strike enough fear into them that they crumbled and he could flip the tables.

           That didn’t happen.

           The bang rang out and his mass tilted back. He hit the wall, there was a narrow splatter of crimson on the rich wooden walls.

           The gun tucked away into her chest holster, hidden beneath the stolen cape.

           “I’m taking over now,” she promised, “and I will wash away everything you did.”

 ~

           “Miguel.” The voice buzzed through the air, emitting from the watch he wore around his wrist.

           He unfolded his arms and the short hologram appeared, displaying one of their many Spiderman allies. If he remembered correctly, this one was on Earth 14-324 for assessment.

           “Report?”

           The man cleared his throat. “We have a situation, requesting back up.”

           “What’s the situation?”

           “Well, uh. . .the Spiderman of Earth 14-324 is dead. There’s someone in charge, and from what I know of, they’ve already killed Kingpin, Vulture, Venom, and Prowler. They’re ruling the city as Captain of the police force.”

           What?

           “What do you know about them?”

           “They’re new, only been around a few months. Spiderman died just before – “

           “How?”

           “Don’t know. There’s rumor he’s only missing, not dead, but I found the grave.”

           “And this is when this new person came about?”

           “Appears to be that way. The news reports start talking about them after they stop talking about Spiderman, and it’s all the same. Talking about who they’ve taken down. Three months back they became Police Captain.”

           “What do you know about them? Identity? Powers? We only deal with Spidermen.”

           “But, they are. I’ve seen them in action. Spiderwebs. Spideysense. The strength and agility. Only they don’t go by Spiderman, they go by Recluse.”

           Miguel rolled his eyes. “I’ll send in Gwen to get into the force and act as our inside man. Find out what you can about who they actually are, name, residence, family. We need to know it all.”

           “Yes sir.”

           The hologram shrunk into nonexistence and Miguel turned back to his monitors. His gaze narrowed.

           “Pull up Earth 14-432,” he ordered. “And show me the Recluse.”

           An image pulled up right away and the hairs on his arms raised at the newspaper image. He got his first good luck at the masked figure and he learned a lot right away.

           The Prowlers hood hid their identity, clouding them in darkness. What part of their face wasn’t shrouded was hid behind Vulture’s respirator. It was a close picture, like they had posed. Staring down the camera, wanting the world to know who they were.

           Miguel studied the screen, speaking as if someone was nearby. “Lyla, alert Gwen Stacey to rendezvous with Spiderman on Earth 14-432 for observation and report of the figure named Recluse. High priority.”

           A figure popped into existence on top the computer screen, phone in her hands. “You sound so official. You really need to learn to relax more.”

           “I’d relax more if I knew how this anomaly came to be, and how much of a threat they pose,” Miguel answered, raising his hand, palm to the screens, and beginning to swipe through the articles.

           And there were many articles.

[heavisdelulu]

Miles Morales x Oc (black oc)

Oc name is Alani Lubin-Jones.

I was on Pinterest and wanted to try and make vision boards for the story. And here’s what I’ve got so far. I realized that this project will be multiple books. One of the original miles, one with 42 miles, one with them clashing, and more if I continue to pursue this path.

So this for the original plot, I was thinking about titling it “Webs & Bolts”, since it’s about how Miles becomes spider man and Alani becomes his partner. (Alani is the best friend and tinker Incase anyone was confused. See previous post).

I’m kinda going for a pastel color theme for this book. The white is Miles and the yellow is Alani’s. I wanted to keep it light and dainty to correspond with Miles personality and Alani’s aesthetic. So probably yellows, blues, greens, and beige. I’m open to more suggestions!

So for the second book, which I titled “Odds against us”, In which Miles is the prowler and Alani is helping him do shadey work, I was kinda aiming for an emo grudge vibe.

Kinda like, ‘yeah we’ve been through hell, but as long as we got each other we good’ vibe. Mainly blacks and purples for this one…

I’ve actually started writing a bit for both. If you want a snippet lmk. My goal is to at least have like 3 chapters posted for each book by the end of July (don’t wanna rush myself and then it turns out trashy). But I’ll keep y’all updated. Thank you for your time have a good day or night🫶🏾💋…luv ya