#they truly are the cats of the spider world

[bunny-grunt]

“Oh no jumping spiders dont bite, you’re fine”

[lightnersdream]

sees post insisting furry porn is weird and wrong because it includes "the aesthetics of animals" (???)

goes to their page

hazbin hotel fanart

????????????

[tarjapearce]

A Wacky Spider

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderPersonfem!Reader

WARNINGS: Sexual language, sexual depictions of genitals, research about spiders, wacky behaviors of spiders, implicit heavy breeding kink, established relationships, wacky request.

Requested Here

P. d. Learned a lot of shite of spiders that might be useful for later 🤭♥️. Hope you like or at least make sense of this (No proofread at all) And yes, The Evarcha is a real spider 🫶🏻.

If there was something Miguel surely understood is that some Spider people under his command were a bit more spider than they actually let on. Some radioactive spiders were so different that had their host acting partially like them.

The biggest example? You. You had been bitten by an Evarcha Culicivora, aka. The Vampire spider. A jumping spider that fed of blood fattened mosquitos, a natural pest control. He'd sometimes would catch you eating steaks in the cafeteria with enough blood cells, that for some reason made you smell so damn sweet afterwards.

His arachnid DNA reacted so well to it. His talons were out whenever you approached him, smelling like heaven personified, the urge to be around you just increased. He couldn't help it. But other spiders rather to stay away from you as their spider senses tingled too often.

Oddly enough he had been discovering things about yourself that secretly unleashed a whole new level of fascination for you. Like your aphrodisiac venom.

You had chomped Miguel by accident as he was in a sparring session with you, much to yours and his dismay, he ended up having a raging and borderline painful boner. Of course you'd help him in the only way you knew, took one stroke of his cock to convince him.

Riding him eventually had turned in one of your favorite things to do. You loved when he hissed both in pain and pleasure as your walls tightened around him while you had him under the spell of your sweet and delicious smell.

It was addicting to have him as your personal fucktoy, just as he was addicted to you. You had been the only spider that truly rivaled his stamina, meaning you could get at it for hours if it was a slow day.

-----

Even though Miguel was into you, he was still a scientist at heart. He didn't select random spiders to join in his task force, no, he selected those that had loyalty, skills and brains.

You were more of an action sort of Spider, but always offered a different approach and input to his issues when needed. The first time you had arrived at the Lobby was uneventful, nothing too out of the ordinary except for different spiders, from around the world, periods of times, even some random things you didn't think possible like a Spider-Rex, A Spider-cat, and of course a horse.

It was nice, to find your kind of gang.

The first thing Miguel had noticed from you besides your skills and the little fangs under your pouty lips, was your smell. Something that triggered a mating-like behavior on his spider side.

He would spend hours subtly watching you, trying to find what triggered that scent on you. And much to his surprise, it was blood. He'd noticed that after eating a particular juicy steak, you'd smell like if cotton candy was turned into a perfume and you were doused in it. One would think it was overwhelming, it was to some other spiders, but to Miguel, it was perfect.

Then, he discovered about your aphrodisiac venom. And to this day you still felt embarrassed at how things displayed. A wannabe knock off Vulture had infiltrated in your dimension, and had caused a ruckus. Despite the man looking ridiculous, his grip was steely and out of despair you had bit him. Hard.

Miguel and the other people couldn't believe what they were seeing. The man panted as his groin started to grow painfully tight in his pants, lust splattered all over his face and a needy voice that far from insulting, was charmingly pathetic for the way he begged for help.

"Ew..." Jessica mumbled

"What the actual fuck" Peter followed

Miguel just watched both curious and disgusted at the man's reaction. But experiencing it himself was just something else, he felt primal, needy, low key possessive and oh so ready to give your womb it's almost daily dose of him.

But he had been acting different, almost bummed out.

"Hey, Miggy"  He groaned at the nickname, and let you sit on his lap.

"Something troubles you?"

"You, actually."

"Me? How come?"

"Results are different each time, they don't give me exact information. I need exact data."

"Hm... Are you worried about something in specific?"

"Yes. By this point, considering your menstrual cycle, and the many times we have fucked, you should be pregnant by now. But you aren't."

"Wait... hold up, you been trying to breed me?"

"Hard to not when you're always smelling like fucking candy and letting me cum inside, bonita. You doing it on purpose?"

You laughed and shook your head

"Not really. I just love the cafeteria's steak. But seeing you so set for it, makes me-"

"Sick?" He groaned in disapproval of himself, "I know it's fucked up, I should've-."

"Don't worry, maybe we can find a way to make the breeding effective?"

He blinked at you for a second.

"Are you really...?"

You shrugged and giggled

"I mean, by the amount of sex we have been having being preggers would just be a matter of time. You though I wouldn't notice?"

He rubbed his face with a groan.

"Right."

"You aren't as subtle as you think you are, O'Hara." You'd smile and stood up.

"Wanna run more tests and find out why I'm not bred yet?"

He'd chuckle with a nod.

-----

He'd take a blood sample, analyze data, but nothing out of the normal showed. Then he grabbed a little ultrasound machine.

"Mind to stay still?"

"Im ticklish."

"Quédate quieta, solo un ratito" (Stay still, just a moment)

His hand stopped abruptly as his breath was caught in his throat.

The imagery of your womb showed one thing. There wasn't the typical outline of a baby, instead, there was a little cocoon like texture surrounding the baby.

"Is that..."

"A baby..."

"Dios mío.... wait" He zoomed kn the picture, "For all we know it could be more than one"

The eagerness in his voice didn't go unnoticed by you

"Congratulations, daddy"

He just smirked. He'd take you later to the spider doctor.

Spiders indeed were wacky beings.

[kirain]

Please don't get me wrong, I like gale well enough, but he turns me off because I get the impression that he wouldn't care much about what I have to say. He's so intelligent and wise and he clearly has years and years of education and study under his belt. So what on earth could I even talk to him about without boring him to death? Because honestly, I like to talk, like, a lot. I'm just as passionate about stuff but not nearly as knowledgeable and I fucking hate that look on people's face when they're blithely listening to stuff that bored them? Im not knowledgeable enough to have anything to offer him

This is ironically how Gale feels about himself. He feels like he has absolutely nothing to offer anyone, which is why he went after the orb in the first place. He felt inadequate for a goddess, and he feels inadequate for Tav. The idea that Tav is attracted to him genuinely shocks him, too, because from his standpoint ... who could possibly love him? He's just a guy who screws everything up. That's why he's so elated when Tav shares their feelings with him.

He knows magic, but he doesn't know the world. He's clueless in certain areas. Despite being so knowledgeable and passionate about magic, he wants to know Tav. He doesn't care how intelligent or unintelligent you are, he only cares that you're a good person. I haven't finished his romance yet, but I've made some pretty silly decisions (like licking a dead spider) and he's still sticking by me. His desire for Tav isn't transactional at all. In fact, he'd probably find your question "what on earth could I even talk to him about without boring him to death" perplexing. The answer is anything! Gale's passion is learning and sharing knowledge, and if you talk to him about a subject he's already well versed in, he won't shut you down, he'll just match your enthusiasm. I'm playing as a wizard, and every time I've spoken to him about the Weave or books or anything my character knows as a result of her background, he gets excited, not bored.

Moreover, Gale's hobbies mainly consist of reading. That's it. He likes to sit on his balcony and read. I'm sure many people would consider that boring, and he knows it. That's why he gets agitated when you first meet him. He blatantly tells you his hobbies and everything he loves; reading, writing poetry, his cat, so when you ask him to elaborate or say "tell me the real you" he gets a bit defensive. He dodges the question about his past and anything regarding the orb, but he was also being 100% honest about who he is. He does love reading, he does write poetry, he does worship his cat, but that's all he really has going for him and he knows it's not substantial. At least not from his perspective. He's insecure.

Mystra was his entire life. He was secluded from childhood by a groomer and only had Tara and tutors on the side. Then he lived alone in his tower for over a year, fearing death, regretting his mistakes, and reevaluating his life. Companionship is literally the best thing you can offer Gale, because it's the only thing he truly wants. Even just a simple friendship means the world to him. Anything else you bring to the table is an absolute bonus. Don't forget, when you reach his maximum affinity he responds to your queries with, "Always a delight to speak with you."

[primaviva]

WASTED SUMMERS

PAIRINGS: gwen stacy x fem!reader, gwen stacy x miles morales (platonic)

SYNOPSIS: one minute you were fighting the vulture, the next you were caring for gwen stacy. she hated you at first and thought you were just another person taking pity on her. as the two of you became closer, gwen realized she needed you. maybe as a friend or maybe as something more. but that all changed once miles came back. two months later, you were dropped. just like that. was everything between you two just all in your head? she said it herself, you were just a waste of time.

WARNINGS: heavy angst, mentions of blood / injury, misunderstandings trope, gwen bein in her own world as always, jealousy and big arguments, as well as super long and not proof read ?? that’s all

as the sun stretched its golden rays across the landscape, a gentle warmth enveloped the city, signaling the arrival of summer.

being a normal kid was never in the cards for you. after all, you possessed incredible spider powers that set you apart from the rest. you longed for someone who could relate to the exhilaration, the struggles, and the responsibility that came with being spiderwoman. while others could confide in friends or family about their daily lives, you carried the weight of your powers silently, unable to share the truth with anyone.

but then, everything changed when the events of kingpin's collider unfolded. in that moment, you crossed paths with numerous individuals who were just like you spider people from their own dimensions. finally, you found people who shared your struggles, faced similar challenges, and could truly empathize with what you were going through.

however, you didn't spend much time with them. being new to the mantle, you were still coming out of your shell a little. you still made bonds back then, don’t get yourself wrong. those relationships just weren’t as deep as others like miles and peter or miles and… her.

but things were different now. since then, you've undergone such a transformation.

seeing all of them made you feel normal, not just that you found people who understood you completely. it brought you back to the feeling of when you were a regular teen girl with friends to always hang out with and little crushes. there was a sense of normalcy.

you thought you’d never see them again, until you did.

some time ago, a spider-man named miguel o'hara from a different dimension came forward, boldly claiming his identity as a fellow spider-powered hero. he had taken it upon himself to establish a spider society and extended an invitation for you to join. according to him, he sought someone level-headed like you, someone who could contribute in a meaningful way to the group. at first, it was strange how miguel seemed to possess an uncanny knowledge of your existence. he was well-versed in the details of your encounters, from the kingpin's collider incident to significant moments in your reality that held personal significance for you. he skillfully employed this knowledge to persuade you to make a decision.

despite your initial skepticism, you ultimately said yes, and that marked the beginning of a profound journey. it was through this experience that you delved into the enigmatic concept of the “arachno-humanoid-polymultiverse.” the intricate web of realities, the existence of canon events, and the watches that held the power of multiversal travel. it was akin to schrödinger's cat, where the multiverse and quantum mechanics transformed into theories or knowledge.

but miguel had this factual certainty in his beliefs, and his conviction remained steadfast. you couldn't shake the feeling that there were inherent flaws in his belief system. despite your reservations though, you decided to join. after all, there was no harm in aiding these "anomalies" in finding their way back to their rightful dimensions, was there?

and so, within this newfound spider society, you found yourself reunited with familiar faces like peter, peni, and even new people like hobie, london's very own spider-man.

you thought it was over and your life would continue as normal until miguel called you in.

“(y/n)? get to hq right now, i need you to prepare for another anomaly to be sent back!” he yelled through your watch suddenly.

he sounded out of breath, almost like he was mid running while calling you.

“señor o’hara? the hell, what work are you putting in right now? it sounds like you’re screaming at me from underwater,” you teased as you began to open a portal back to the society.

“now’s not the time for your jokes,” he groaned and you could visibly imagine the look of annoyance on his face. “jessica and i are on our way back with the vulture.”

before you could respond, he abruptly ended the call, leaving you hanging. a few minutes passed as you readied a secure enclosure using the advanced technology provided by the spider society. the vulture, regardless of the variant, always had a penchant for escape, making it crucial to have proper containment measures in place.

lost in your thoughts, you were startled when an imposing figure, resembling an ancient bird, materialized before you, bound in handcuffs. miguel, handling the vulture, swiftly placed him in the designated "jail" alongside the other detained anomalies

"thanks," he whispered, acknowledging your assistance.

you hummed in response as you leaned against the wall. “where’s jessica?” you asked.

miguel muttered under his breath, "with the new recruit," prompting you to raise an eyebrow.

"a new recruit? funny how you conveniently forgot to mention that while you were harassing me over a watch," you remarked playfully.

"i didn't want to," miguel retorted, turning to face you. "but jessica convinced me."

nodding, you stepped closer to him, ready to delve deeper into the matter. however, before you could continue, heavy footsteps approached, and your eyes widened in disbelief.

it was gwen.

"gwen?" you uttered, your voice barely above a whisper, your shock evident.

her eyes widened, but she remained silent and looked down at her feet.

jessica shot you a meaningful look, silently conveying that gwen had been through something difficult and needed space. respecting her unspoken request, you held your questions, allowing gwen the time she needed to process whatever she had experienced.

that was the most that could be said about your initial encounter. you didn't blame her at first for preferring to be alone herself. jessica gave you a brief summary of what happened when her father learned of her identity. she shared no specifics, but all she said was that it went horribly wrong and that she would be staying with the spider society for the time being. it was up till miguel gave her a watch and assigned you the job of assisting her in settling in to make it official.

with gentle care, you grasped gwen's wrist, making sure the watch fit properly on her arm.

“i know miguel probably told you a bunch of word vomit about the watch already,” you began, releasing your grip on the timepiece and gesturing to the buttons. “but just so you don’t get confused, here is the button that activates the watch, while the one below deactivates it. and the actual purpose of the watch, these dials, they're for inputting the assigned dimension number when you're traveling."

gwen responded with a soft hum, her gaze avoiding yours as you looked up. it was evident that she still struggled to find her place, feeling like an outsider. gwen noticed you staring up at her and redirected her focus to you, raising an eyebrow in response.

“are you okay?” you asked her.

she almost rolled her eyes a little. she didn’t want you to take pity on her, nor did she want the attention.

“do i look okay?” she snapped back.

gwen just wanted to be alone, wishing she could retreat into a sanctuary where she could escape the guilt and betrayal that weighed heavily on her heart.

you exhaled a sigh, understanding her irritation and how she desired to keep to herself for now.

“sorry for wanting to know if you were doing better,” you replied with a bit of an attitude. “i know this can be a lot, and i heard about what happened with your dad… just know it’s not your fault. we can talk whenever, if you want to. but i get it, right now you just want space.”

with those words, you turned to walk away, intending to respect gwen's wishes. but before you could step away completely, gwen reached out, gripping your shoulder and gently turning you around. in an unexpected moment, she embraced you tightly.

as you felt a slight dampness on your neck, you realized that gwen's tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“thanks,” her voice came out muffled against your suit. “i’m sorry for acting like a jerk. it really is nice to see you, (y/n). i just have so much going on in my head right now. it’s nice to know that someone understands.”

“you don’t have to thank me for this,” you assured her in a gentle whisper as you rubbed circles into her back.

reluctantly, gwen pulled away, swiftly wiping beneath her eyes and revealing a toothy grin, her endearing gap peeking through.

you swear you felt your heart skip a beat.

it was a little rocky at first. gwen struggled to fully accept your unwavering support, leading to occasional conflicts and disagreements. however, as time passed, she gradually eased into the dynamic between you, recognizing that you genuinely cared for her. with each passing day, gwen's guard began to lower, and she started sharing what happened with her dad, details about her life like how she played with her band, the mary janes, and more.

gradually, gwen found herself seeking refuge at your place more often, drawn to the comfort and solace it provided. drawn to you, even. it’s to the point where she doesn’t even crash at hobie’s anymore. the space you two shared became a sanctuary for gwen, where she could truly be herself, unburdened by the weight of her past.

you two had become close friends, best friends even, but there was something that unsettled your mind about it. whenever she was around, a mixture of nervousness and excitement coursed through your veins as the blood in your body rushed to your cheeks. her presence had a way of making you feel giddy, and you found a joy you weren’t used to in her company.

however, everything began to change when miles returned.

the incident involving the spot was an utter mess. to make a stupid story short, what miguel had defined as an anomaly turned out to be untrue. the canon events were not set in stone but rather common traits among the spider people from different dimensions. the notion of a dimension being "destroyed" was debunked, as dimensions lost in the spiderverse would reset and begin anew beyond the confines of the connected spider universes.

at first, her visit to his universe surprised you. instead of tracking down the spot, she chose to spend time with him, even meeting his parents. you knew they had a deep connection from the first time they met, but witnessing their reunion made it apparent just how close they had become. the way she became so engrossed in him made you feel a pang of jealousy, seeing how effortlessly he captured her attention.

you realized that you hadn't spent much time with her lately, which only heightened your anticipation for the day you had planned to hang out.

again, it was summer. this was the time to hang out with friends, be out late, just do things just for the memories.

as you swung home on your webs you smiled as you took in the world around you.

the sunset blanketed the streets as skyscrapers stood tall, casting long shadows that provided a respite from the heat. bodies of water nearby offered a refreshing breeze to those caught outside in their sweat. the city's iconic landmarks, from the statue of liberty to the empire state building, glisten in the sunlight, their grandeur amplified by the orange and purple skies above. the aroma of street vendors' delicacies fills the air as you jump from building to building, enticing passersby with the sizzle of hot dogs, the tangy zest of pretzels, and the sweet smell of snow cones being sold around the corner. the laughter of children on playgrounds, the strumming of guitars by buskers, and the rhythmic beat of joggers' footsteps became music to your ears.

a broad smile illuminated your face as your eyes fell upon your beloved apartment. with a nimble grace, you hopped onto the fire escape, effortlessly maneuvering your way through the open window. there, on your bed, was gwen, nestled comfortably amidst the pillows. she had been staying at your place for the week, adding an extra touch of warmth to the familiar surroundings.

"whatchu doing, hobo?" you playfully quipped, unable to contain your amusement as you made your presence known.

gwen responded with a good-natured smirk, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "well, hello to you too," she replied, the faintest resistance to rolling her eyes evident in her tone.

stepping further into the room, you shrugged off your bag and placed it gently on your desk, allowing the weight of the day to slip away. the room seemed to exhale, embracing you in its familiar embrace.

curiosity sparked in your eyes as you observed gwen's relaxed state. "so, what did you do today?" you inquired, a genuine interest in her activities evident in your voice.

gwen shifted, propping herself up against the pillows, a contented smile gracing her lips. "well, miguel called me in a few times, but eventually i wasn't needed anymore, so i decided to spend the rest of the day here," she explained. "and you? how about you, my friendly neighborhood web-slinger? did you have any exciting adventures?"

the playful smile that adorned gwen's face mirrored your own, both of you relishing in the simplicity of these moments where you could just be two friends engaged in casual conversation.

"yeah, i did some stuff, but it seems villains nowadays want to take summer vacations," you joked, playfully stepping away from your desk and making your way toward her. "and now i have to change my clothes, so uh, leave," you said, adopting a faux-stern tone while placing your hands on your hips.

despite the fact that there was a perfectly fine extra room available, gwen had a penchant for invading your space, making your room her own. it had reached a point where it was hard to find your own belongings amidst her things, but you didn't mind. you cherished her company, understanding that she was still adjusting to living with her dad again, even after he had discovered her secret and grown to accept her.

"no thanks, i'm too comfortable now," gwen declared, shaking her head with a determined expression, refusing to budge.

you arched an eyebrow, your brow furrowing slightly as you licked your teeth. "fine."

turning away from gwen, you began to remove your shoes, followed by your gloves, setting them aside as you prepared to change.

as gwen noticed your actions, confusion flickered across her features, causing her to tilt her head slightly. "wait a minute, what are you doing?" she asked, raising her eyebrows curiously.

"well, i did say i was gonna change, but since you're too lazy to leave my bed," you replied, extending your arm behind you, "this is me, changing."

with a firm grip on the zipper, you slowly pulled it downward, revealing your bare back as you opened the closet door and stepped behind it, concealing your figure from gwen's gaze.

gwen scoffed at your teasing remark, her cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment. "hey, just because i enjoy some relaxation time doesn't mean i'm lazy," she protested, attempting to maintain her composure but failing in the face of your playful banter.

"better not peek or i'li put you out on the street," you warned.

"oh, please i’d like to see you try," gwen jested. she knew you were teasing, and she couldn't help but play along with you. "you wouldn't be able to, i'm too charming."

as you disappeared behind the closed closet doors, gwen's curiosity got the better of her, though she tried her best not to reveal her intrigue. unbeknownst to you, she leaned to the side, attempting to catch a glimpse of your face through the crack in the doors.

"gwen," you called out, your tone stern.

her reverie shattered, gwen snapped back to reality, quickly retreating to her corner.

"ehmm, i'm not peeking," she mumbled, her face flushing a deeper shade of red. her gaze remained fixed on the small opening between the closet doors, but she did her best to prevent you from noticing.

"it's my superhero instinct to be super observant and all that," gwen explained, trying to justify her actions. "nothing sketchy going on here.”

with a piercing glare, you continued to observe her.

"o-okay, fine, i'm sorry," she conceded, her voice softening as she averted her gaze.

meanwhile, you proceeded to slide your spider suit down to your feet, kicking it off onto the floor before selecting a fresh set of clothes to wear. closing the closet doors, you turned to face gwen.

"i hate you," you retorted, referencing her playful intrusion during your changing process.

gwen rolled her eyes, her mischievous nature still present as she couldn't resist a bit of teasing.

"i love you too," she responded, offering a sly wink and a smirk. "don't worry, i didn't see anything. just your face. it was still a nice view."

her comment caught you off guard, widening your eyes and leaving your mouth slightly agape.

"a nice view?" you repeated, more as a question, deciding to switch the topic. "you're not even the superhero of this earth, but yeah, i'm totally your damsel in distress. definitely not like i have powers of my own or anything," you replied sarcastically.

gwen's mischievous expression persisted as she focused her gaze on you, her eyes trailing over your body.

"yeah, well, i'm always spider-woman, fulfilling my duties as a superhero, which includes making sure to keep everyone safe, including a really pretty damsel like yourself," gwen responded with a playful tone.

you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks at her compliment, quickly turning away to hide your reaction. "so, gonna get ready now or what?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

gwen raised an eyebrow, a hint of confusion in her expression. "ready for... what?" she asked.

"you literally don't remember us saying we were gonna go bowling?" you replied, slightly exasperated.

"what are you talking about? and doesn't that place open at 6?" gwen questioned, feeling she had missed a chapter on what was going on.

"gwen, it's 6:15," you informed her, hoping it would jog her memory.

her eyes widened in realization, and she quickly sprang into action, putting on her shoes and searching for her jacket.

"shit, shit, shit. i made plans with miles, i'm gonna be late. he's probably mad right now that i haven't shown up yet!" gwen spoke frantically, her mind racing and forgetting about your prior arrangement.

you furrowed your brow in annoyance and a tinge of anger. "gwen, what do you mean you made plans with miles when you said we'd do something today?" you blurted out, feeling a sense of disappointment.

gwen looked at you with a blank expression, scratching her head as she tried to recall what you were talking about. suddenly, her eyes widened in surprise as she realized her mistake.

"bowling? oh god, i completely forgot," gwen exclaimed, still searching for her jacket and watch. "my time management is so bad."

you crossed your arms as you felt your lips pout, feeling a mix of frustration and hurt. "gwen, you always do this. you cancel plans on me, and we don't even hang out anymore besides when you're using my bed to sleep. it's always miles this and miles that. it's getting tiring," you expressed with a bitter tone.

gwen's expression shifted to one of hurt, and she fell silent for a moment, taking in your words.

"hey, i'm sorry... i know it might seem like i don't care when i cancel on you, but that's not true," she said, her voice softening. "i just get caught up in all my superhero stuff... miles and i are really close, you know? like a team."

"yeah, a team," you repeated, pressing your tongue against your cheek as you handed gwen her jacket. "then don't keep him waiting because of me," you said, walking towards the bedroom door.

"hey, hey, hey, take a chill pill," gwen retorted, her voice reflecting her own irritation. "i didn't cancel our plans on purpose. yes, it's true that i do spend more time with miles than you. but he's the reason why i'm able to be the hero that i am today! you should be grateful for that."

gwen turned around, facing you directly, her expression firm and strict. "and by the way, you're the one who always volunteers to let me stay at your place. don't act like a victim now."

you looked at her, a mix of shock and anger coursing through you. "gwen, i am not the one," you declared, pointing a finger up at her. "so trust me when i say you don't want to start with me."

gwen's anger flared, but she made an effort to regain her composure, even though it was clear she was on the verge of losing it.

"hey, don't point your finger at me like that!" she snapped back.

you could see how agitated she is. her lips were slightly curled and her chin jutted out as she narrowed her eyes.

"really? is this how this conversation is going to go?" gwen asked in a hushed tone, her expression shifting to a more saddened one. "you know what? fine. i'll go."

"yeah, i think you should," you agreed, watching her dial the numbers 1610 to miles' dimension.

gwen looked at you as if she wanted to argue further but realized it wasn't worth it. she swiftly opened the portal, ready to leave.

she gave you a sharp nod. "okay then, if that's how you want it," gwen stated, keeping her tone as neutral as possible, although it was evident you had affected her.

after a few seconds of tense silence, she stepped through the portal, disappearing from the room. maybe spending some time in a different dimension with miles would help clear her mind.

hours had passed since your fight with gwen, and the tension still lingered in the air. restlessness had settled deep within you, making it impossible to find solace in sleep. as the late hour ticked away, hunger gnawed at your stomach, prompting you to abandon the confines of your covers. retrieving your phone to check the time, you couldn't help but be shocked by the display.

"ay, is it really only 12?" you asked yourself, shocked as it felt like you have been losing the wrestling match of sleep for hours.

making your way to the kitchen, you sought refuge in the act of preparing a mug brownie, a familiar and comforting midnight snack. the process was quick, taking only a couple of minutes and requiring simple ingredients like brown sugar and the usual components of a microwaveable treat.

a sigh escaped your lips as you reached for the brown sugar from the cabinet, your mind drifting into introspection. the summer had been a tumultuous mix of highs and lows, with moments where tears seemed to dominate your days. juggling the responsibilities of the spider society and your personal commitments has left little time for the company of friends, leaving you longing for more meaningful connections. and when you did manage to spend time with friends, it often revolved around the spider society, missions, and the likes of hobie, margo, and gwen.

"gwen," you murmured aloud, her name rolling off your tongue as thoughts of her flooded your mind.

she had an undeniable hold on you, like a game of cat and mouse that seemed to stretch throughout the entire summer. she consumed your time, yet offered so little in return. it felt as if she knew you better than anyone, even yourself, effortlessly providing comfort and care. however, those moments of intimacy were fleeting, slipping through your fingers before you could fully grasp them.

the idyllic picture of the perfect summer played out in your mind—a montage of beach days, rooftop nights, and the presence of everyone you longed to be with. while you did experience some of those moments, basking in the warmth of the sun with friends, engaging in sleepovers filled with hobie's terrifying tales borrowed from reddit, and swinging across rooftops while gazing at the stars, something essential felt missing. and even now, that void remains unfilled.

that something is gwen, you now realize.

despite her being so close, she always seemed just out of reach. whether it was strolling along the shoreline with miles at the beach, sharing secretive giggles under the covers while the rest of the group debated movie choices during sleepovers, or simply being in the same space, gwen was always by miles' side.

you had tried to stand by her, to be there for her and enjoy her presence, but it seemed as though you could never make it stick.

the sudden eruption of vibrant colors and a jarring electric sound snapped you out of your reverie. your heart skipped a beat as you recognized it for what it was—a portal. and you knew exactly who had just arrived.

preparing yourself mentally, you squeezed your eyes shut, stirring the mixture with a spoon before hastily popping it into the microwave.

when gwen appeared in the kitchen, she looked a bit tired and drained, even though a little excitement was still radiating from her body. she had her hands in her pockets as she walked into the kitchen, her usual confident and cheeky attitude nowhere to be seen. gwen was a bit nervous, not knowing what to expect. as soon as her eyes caught a glimpse of you, she froze in her tracks, her eyes getting wide as they darted all over you, looking for any sign that you were mad at her. it took a while for her to summon the courage to break the silence.

"i um- i'm sorry," gwen finally began, her voice soft, her gaze lowered. even in the dim light, you could discern the sincerity in her eyes. "what i said earlier and how i treated you… i shouldn't have."

rather than responding verbally, you nodded, acknowledging her apology while allowing a moment of silence to pass. the sound of her footsteps growing louder indicated her gradual approach.

"what are you doing up so late?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow. "it's almost midnight. shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

a sigh escaped your lips, her presence a stark reminder of the reason behind your sleeplessness.

"couldn't sleep, so i'm having a snack," you replied in a monotone voice.

gwen tilted her head to the side. "okay, i'ii take that at face value for now," she replied, a small smirk appearing on her face before quickly fading as she walked closer to you.

after a long pause, she finally spoke up. "look. i know that we had a bit of an argument earlier," she stated, voice barley above a whisper. "i just want you to know that i didn't mean anything i said,'' gwen added.

"didn't mean it, or didn't mean to say it?" you questioned, finally turning around to face her directly, allowing her to see your expression instead of just your back.

"both," gwen muttered, feeling like she was digging herself a deeper hole with each word.

you remained silent, giving her the space to continue.

"look, i'm sorry, okay?" she implored, raising her eyebrows. her tone sounded desperate, as if she was really hoping that you would just forgive her. but she knew that you weren't the type to just forget what had happened.

"but i... i'm still your friend. whether you like it or not," she added with a faint chuckle.

arching an eyebrow at her hesitant delivery, you maintained your silence, allowing her to take the lead in the conversation.

"it's not like i was on a date with him or anything like that. i just forgot about our plans. i didn't mean to prioritize him over you. it's just- i owe him a lot. he's special to me, you know," gwen explained, her voice tinged with a touch of regret as you turned away again, biting your lip.

jealousy churned within you as her words filled the air, the mention of miles leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. it felt as though your heart twisted with each passing moment.

"i'm really, really sorry. i promise it won't happen again, okay?" gwen pleaded, her voice dripping with sincerity, even as you maintained your facade of indifference.

"i know how you see miles, you don't have to explain your feelings to me. even if it was a date, why would i care? hope you two had fun," you assured her, disregarding her promise not to bail on you again.

gwen looked genuinely upset when you turned your back to her and shrugged her words away. she didn't want you to feel like you'd been put on the shelf in favor of miles.

"i had fun, yeah," she eventually replied, not sure if you were genuinely interested in hearing about her time with miles.

gwen really did want to make up with you, but to her, it seemed like you were still angry.

you emitted a small hum in response, and the microwave dinged, indicating that the mug brownie was ready.

she took another step closer and placed her hands on your shoulders, trying to catch your attention. her expression was filled with concern.

"hey, is something wrong?" gwen asked you, her eyebrows moving up together to form a small frown.

for at least a few minutes, there was no sound; the only thing breaking the silence was the occasional gust of wind coming from the open window and the sound of you opening the utensil draw for a spoon and eating away at your dessert.

“nothing, i feel fine,” you replied dryly.

the silence and your straight face didn't exactly give gwen anything to work with. it was obvious that something was wrong, but you refused to admit it. you were a very stubborn person, after all.

"you're so full of crap, you know that, right?" gwen replied, turning you around so that you had to look at her.

she wasn't mad at you. well, she certainly was a couple of hours ago, but right at this moment, she was mostly worried about you. you seemed so distant, almost as if you wanted her to leave.

she tightened her grip on your shoulders, not trying to hurt you, but to make it clear that she meant what she was saying. even though your face remained expressionless, gwen could read you like a book. she didn't let go of your shoulders and just kept looking at you, the concern on her face growing.

you gasped, taken aback by how she turned you around

"gwen, literally what do you want me to say to you?" you asked, annoyance seeping into your voice.

"you can say the truth, for starters," she stated.

"well to start, for you to say i'm the one full of crap is hilarious. i said i feel fine, now let go of me," you added, attempting but failing to escape her firm grasp.

gwen felt her expression changing as she heard your words, the look of worry slowly turning into one of annoyance. a part of her wanted to snap back at you, but she remained silent once again.

"no," gwen replied, "no, you're not fine, and you know it."

she took a deep breath and looked straight into your eyes, trying to make you listen to her.

"miles means a lot to me— i'd even say he's one of the most important people in my life. but that doesn't mean that he comes before my other friends, and you're definitely one of my friends. i shouldn't have canceled our plans, but..."

gwen looked at you to study your face for any signs that you were hearing her out, but all she was left with was this grim and dark look in your eye as your lips faintly quivered.

she shook her head. "you know what? just forget it. i don't want to keep talking about it. i'ii leave you alone now."

"gwen, i'm not doing this with you right now. goodnight," you declared, placing the cup aside and attempting to walk past her.

gwen was stunned for a few moments as she looked at you, visibly disappointed. for a moment, she was about to protest, but then changed her mind.

she wanted to say something, but she realized that you didn't want to hear it anyway. her grip slowly tightened as her eyes narrowed, but then a deep breath escaped her and she let go.

gwen watched as you left the room, her face filled with confusion and slight frustration. but after everything that had happened tonight, she decided that it was best to leave you alone instead of forcing a conversation you clearly didn't want to have right now.

you woke up feeling a bit hazy after the events of the previous night. as the sun peeked through your curtains, momentarily blinding you, you blinked your eyes a few times to adjust. the silence in the house felt unsettling as you sat up, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

making your way through the hallway, you treaded lightly, not wanting to disturb anyone in the house. you headed towards the guest bedroom, hoping to find gwen there. opening the door, you called out her name, but the room was empty. not only was she not in bed, but her belongings were also gone.

a sense of disappointment washed over you as you closed the door, realizing that gwen had left. uncertain of the reason behind her sudden departure, you let out a deep breath and decided to focus on your responsibilities as a hero. it was time to suit up and check on the city before heading to headquarters for the day.

that's exactly what you did. you patrolled the streets of new york, swinging through the familiar cityscape, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble. along the way, you checked in with miguel to see if he needed any assistance. however, he seemed preoccupied with his own tasks, so you respectfully left him to his work.

feeling the need for some solitude, you made your way to the top of the spider society structure—a tall, unique building that provided a secluded spot away from prying eyes. as you stood at the pinnacle, overlooking the sprawling city, a sense of calm washed over you. the blue skies and gentle breeze offered a momentary respite from the chaos of your thoughts.

using your web-slingers, you effortlessly stuck to the side of the building, skillfully weaving a silk hammock for yourself. nestling into the cozy cocoon, you took a deep breath, savoring the natural scents that filled the air. the peacefulness of the moment enveloped you as you gazed at the breathtaking landscape before you, allowing yourself to unwind and find solace in the stillness.

“(y/n), yer out here?” you heard a voice call out for you.

you let out an audible groan. of course, hobie of all people would come looking for you.

“imma take that as a yes,” he yelled out, swinging down and landing on the hammock next to me with ease.

"oh, hey hobie, what's good?" you asked him, your voice weak and strained from everything going on.

there was so much on your mind it made your brain feel like mush and you didn't know what to do. you just wanted to bury myself in your bed back home and rot away until the day reset. but you knew that wasn’t the healthy thing to do.

hobie’s brow raised at your sad expression, his smirk disappearing. "i dunno if anything is good. you don't look too hot," he commented. his voice was surprisingly calm and caring, contrasting the punk rocker persona. "are ya alright, bruv?"

you looked at him, leaning your head on your palm as you gave him a soft smile.

“it’s… really nothing,” you whispered.

it's clear you're not being entirely honest with him. in fact, you can see his eyes narrow and his forehead crease, as if he can read right through your response like a book.

“i don’t buy it,” hobie sighs as he puts his hands in his pocket and leans back to make himself comfortable. “there's nobody around us, you can talk to me."

you contemplate confiding in him, but ultimately his infectious energy wins you over.

“well, if you really care to listen. i got into a fight with gwen and when i woke up she was gone," you explained. "but now, when i check her location she's always at miles universe or her own...i think she's crashing with him now too. and that's what she used to do with me. the thing is, i don't even hate miles but just when she mentions her name i get this feeling i cabt explain,” you confess.

"oof." hobie frowns. he hates hearing that people aren't doing too great, and it seems to bother him how you don't even know how you feel.

he could do with some insight on these subjects as well. "that's rough, mate. y'do know she's not doing that to avoid ya, right?"

you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“i honestly don’t know, and i don’t even think it matters anymore,” you admitted. “but it’s like when i’m near her, i get this warm feeling? i don’t know how to describe it. we’re best friends, well, were at this point. every time i got near her tho, she made me feel all giddy and nervous. maybe i was excited to have someone like her in my life or something.”

he looks at you with a knowing look, like he seems to have the answer.

"y're in love with her? because that kinda sounds like it to me," hobie states.

he's straight forward. no sense dancing about these things type of attitude.

"what?" you yelled out of nowhere, almost choking on your own saliva. that was the last thing you expected him to say.

“hobie, you move a lil’ too fast. love is a real strong word,” you mumble, covering your face with your hands from embarrassment.

he laughs, and nudges your shoulder a bit. "i can see it on your face, (y/n). ain't got a lotta experience myself, but you're crushing on her real hard."

you hesitantly move your hands from your face and meet his gaze.

'hey, you don't gotta deny it,” he teased, enjoying how flushed your face looked. "you like her, don'tcha?"

"i do, but we haven't talked in weeks and i'm starting to think that she likes miles," you admit. "she just sees me as a best friend that helped her through a bad time. but miles and her are the same. they have a special connection, she even said so herself to me." you sigh in defeat.

hobie can tell that you're hurting, and he doesn't want to see you so down over her. there's a moment of silence, before the guy nudges you again.

"aye, but that's all the more reason to tell her how you feel,” hobie gives his advice matter-of-factually. "tell her how you feel. if she says she likes miles, it'll be a bit awkward. but you'll be glad you got it off your chest. and if she feels the same as you, what have you got to lose?"

"okay. you're right. i don't know when tho, since we haven't talked since our fight. but if we aren't even on speaking terms… might as well say how i feel," you state, moved my his advice.

"atta girl. i believe in ya,” hobie hypes you up. "now, let's get you home cus those bags under yer eyes makin you look like a racoon. you've already had a hard week. you need a break."

you smile, about to respond until you see miles coming up from the distance as hobie gives him an inviting wave.

"hey guys! uh, miguel sent me to get you two since g- never mind actually, it’s not important. he said something about a mandatory meeting," he stated.

"mandatory? the hell's that supposed to mean?" hobie questioned, the spider-punk's tone skeptical as always.

you really wanted to go home for once and not deal with bullshit, but you might not have a choice.

“ight so i guess this is happening now,” you sulk. it isn't much of a surprise. you weren't expecting miles to be the one to walk up to you both, though, especially since miguel of all people sent him. “whatever, let’s get this over with.”

you, hobie, and miles entered the headquarters, exchanging greetings with your fellow spider people as you made your way towards the boardroom. there was a mix of anticipation and apprehension in the air as you stepped into the room, scanning the space until your gaze landed on gwen. your eyes widened involuntarily, a rush of emotions flooding over you at the sight of her. the tension between you had created a tangled web of nervousness and anxiety, leaving you unsure of how to navigate the encounter. however, before you could dwell on these feelings, miguel wasted no time and commenced the meeting, diverting your attention.

gwen, positioned in a quiet corner of the room, watched you as you entered. the moment you spotted her, she looked away, avoiding your gaze.

gwen sat across the large conference table from you. she couldn't help but notice the look on your face when you spotted her. was that relief or anxiety? sadnesses, even. perhaps it was a little bit of everything. as your eyes locked with hers, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you were feeling the same as she was. she hoped she wasn't projecting her own feelings onto you, but seeing you after not talking for so long brought up some complicated emotions in her heart.

as the meeting began, her expression remained neutral, but her mind was filled with a myriad of thoughts. she was wondering what could happen after this meeting with you.

while miguel led the discussion, you tried to focus on him, but a nagging sensation tugged at the corner of your vision. your face instinctively turned towards the source, and there, you met with a familiar watercolor blue.

gwen felt a chill run down her spine as her body tensed up, realizing that you caught her staring at you. as she turned her head towards miguel, her thoughts kept wandering back to you. it was also obvious that something was bothering her, as she constantly shifted in her seat.

she was still trying to think about how to approach you after so long. the situation was incredibly awkward and tense, but all she wanted was to make things right between you both again.

however, even as her attention seemed to shift elsewhere, you couldn't resist staring back at gwen. your gaze lingered on her, studying the intricate details that made up her unique appearance—from her eyebrow piercing to her dyed pink tips and her tousled blonde hair. unafraid to acknowledge her presence, you made sure she noticed your unwavering gaze.

embarrassment flooded gwen's face as she felt your eyes locked on her from across the room. despite her attempts to steal glimpses of you, she couldn't help but feel a knot of nervousness twisting in her stomach. her cheeks flushed with warmth, and her hands anxiously fiddled with the hem of her jacket.

the magnetic pull between you both was undeniable, and gwen couldn't resist the urge to turn her head in your direction. it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving her breathless. her body seemed to melt, her heart threatening to burst with the weight of emotions she struggled to comprehend. doubts crept into her mind, questioning whether her feelings were simply illusions, born out of a desperate desire for connection.

she tried to ignore you. tried to make herself remember all the negative things about you, and all the reasons why you two shouldn't be friends again, but it was so hard. she felt like she was back to square one, right at the start when you talked for the first time.

the constant glances and stares made gwen feel all kinds of things she couldn't quite describe. it felt as though you were engaged in a silent battle, yet at the same time, a bond between you through the unspoken language of your eyes.

as gwen's mouth grew dry, she experienced a sensation she hadn't felt in quite some time. it was a mix of nerves and excitement that made her feel like a typical teenager, caught up in the throes of uncertainty and anticipation.

she felt as if you were the only person in this room right now.

despite her attempts to ignore you and focus on miguel's words, gwen found it increasingly challenging to follow the meeting. and then, once again, she felt the weight of your gaze on her. turning her head, she realized that you had shifted your attention away from miguel, fully directing it towards her.

"(y/n), can you share with the others the observation you made the other day?" miguel's voice pierced through the air, jolting you back to the reality of the meeting. the sound of his words broke the spell, prompting you to refocus your attention on the task at hand.

gwen breathed a sigh of relief as miguel called for you to speak up, but she still couldn't take her eyes off you for even a second. she tried to listen to your speech, but it was pretty hard to focus on anything other than you.

she felt you turn your gaze away from her, but she couldn't stop herself from sneaking her eyes back towards you a moment later. your face looked so serious and professional, but at the same time, there was a spark in your eyes that she couldn't miss.

she watched as you addressed miguel with confidence and conviction, all the while feeling her heart beat faster and faster.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the meeting came to a close, drawing collective sighs of relief from the attendees. miguel couldn't resist making a snarky comment about the length of the meeting, eliciting a tired chuckle from the group. the weight of the intense atmosphere lifted, if only momentarily, allowing for a brief respite from the emotional tension that had filled the room.

gwen waited for everyone to leave, and then approached you as you were already halfway out of the room.

'hey," she called out to you quietly, almost as if she didn't want to disturb the silence. "can i talk to you for a sec?"

you turned back from facing hobie as he gave you a knowing look. slowly, you shifted back to gwen.

“yeah, sure,” you replied dryly.

hobie let out a deep hum. “see ya both,” he told the two of you as he dropped his shoulders and strutted away.

gwen watched as hobie walked away, waiting until he was out of sight before looking back at you, her expression serious. taking a small breath, she attempted to collect her thoughts, knowing that she had so much to say but fearing the possibility of stumbling over her words once again.

"i know we haven't talked in a while which is my fault," she began, "but i want to apologize for... well, everything."

her eyes locked with yours, searching for any sign of your reaction. but before delving further, she felt the need to make one thing abundantly clear.

"i still consider you to be one of my closest friends," she uttered softly, hoping her words would reach you.

in response, you offered gwen a comforting smile, even if it didn't entirely reflect your true emotions.

"gwen, it's alright. you've already apologized, and i don't need to hear it again," you reassured her.

her smile widened at your response, yet she couldn't help but detect a subtle nuance in your tone.

"i know you don't need to hear it again," gwen replied awkwardly, unable to fully hide the excitement that was starting to creep into her voice. "but i need to say it myself. i do care about you. a lot."

"thanks," you replied, your arms welcoming her as you opened them wide. "it's alright, okay? friends?" you asked, your aura radiating a warmth to it.

yeah, you weren't completely happy about the fight or how it seemed to have no real resolution. but seeing gwen so torn up about it made you want to just reconcile as you kept hobie’s advice echoed in the back of your head. she seemed genuine in not making the same mistakes again, so what’s the harm in second chances?

a small smile graced gwen's face as she stepped forward, her arms encircling your waist as she finally felt the embrace she had long yearned for. the sensation of your skin on her fingertips and the familiar scent that enveloped her brought a sense of comfort she had sorely missed. she buried her face in your shoulder, an electric tingle coursing through her body. for some reason, this hug was different from all the ones that she shared with you in the past. maybe it was because she was aware of how she felt right now. or maybe it was because of this overwhelming feeling of just wanting to be close to you again.

"friends," she said, nodding vigorously, "friends."

a flush of warmth spread across your face as gwen's hands made contact with you—a sensation you hadn't experienced in quite some time. slowly, you pulled back from the embrace, gazing up at her with a renewed sense of excitement.

"wanna swing around?" you suggested, eager to make up for lost time and create new memories together.

gwen's response was immediate, her enthusiasm palpable. "yes, please!" she exclaimed, her eagerness shining through. the destination didn't matter as long as it was just the two of you.

a smile never left gwen's face as she replied, "yes!" her voice exuded genuine joy. "i mean, yeah, i'd love to. it's been so long!"

caught off guard by her unabashed enthusiasm, you met her gaze with a teasing look.

"did i make my answer too obvious?" she asked, her expression tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

you couldn't help but let out a loud cackle, a sound that had been absent during your time apart. god, you had missed her.

"nah, not at all. i didn't even think you wanted to come with me," you teased, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

gwen's promises had proven to be short-lived, falling far short of expectations. as the summer neared its end and the seasons began to shift, you couldn't help but notice a change in gwen's behavior. what once were hangouts with others gradually transformed into solitary encounters, until eventually, the two of you stopped hanging out altogether, once again.

sitting atop the brooklyn bridge during lunchtime, you glanced at your watch, a gift from hobie. the vendor had generously given you a hot dog on the house, but your mind wandered, and curiosity got the better of you. you decided to check gwen's location on the watch, only to discover she was on earth 1610.

"i can't catch a break at this point," you muttered to yourself, realizing she seemed to be with mikes again.

feeling a sense of boredom, you decided to check hobie's location on the watch as well. however, your brows furrowed in confusion as you noticed he, too, was on earth 1610.

sitting up abruptly, your attention was caught off guard when you saw margo and pavitr's locations aligning with earth 1610 as well. it was an unexpected revelation. before you could process it fully, a call came in from miguel.

"(y/n), report to earth 1610. an anomaly from earth 65 has materialized," he urgently explained before abruptly hanging up, leaving no time for further explanations.

without hesitation, you dialed earth 1610 and activated the portal. as you jumped through, you were instantly transported to earth 1610, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos. your eyes widened in shock at the sight of a massive floating head terrorizing brooklyn.

swiftly swinging through the chaos, your gaze scanned the area until you spotted miles, gwen, and margo. pavitr and hobie were engaged in assisting with citizen control.

"what the hell is going on here?" you exclaimed, addressing the bewildered trio. before they could respond, the colossal floating head turned to face the three of you. a realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

"is that... is that fucking donald trump?" you blurted out, incredulous at the sight before you.

suddenly, everything fell into place. donald trump, ironically enough, appeared to be the m.o.d.o.k. variant in gwen's universe, and somehow, he had glitched into miles' reality.

"does anyone have a plan?" you urgently asked, realizing the gravity of the situation and the need for immediate action.

you were completely right: it was, indeed, donald trump. but he looked nothing like the president from your timeline. he looked... deformed.

“i think i know a way to stop him!" gwen shouted, immediately swinging over to miles.

you couldn't help but feel baffled and frustrated by gwen's apparent disregard for your presence. as she went off searching for miles, you swung after her, annoyed by her dismissive attitude.

"hey, don't you want to stick with the rest of us?" you asked, irritation lacing your words. you had lost sight of miles and margo while evading m.o.d.o.k.'s attacks, and it was crucial to regroup.

"oh, sorry!" gwen quickly replied, finally noticing that you had followed her. her focus had been solely on finding miles and stopping the giant-headed donald trump monstrosity.

after locating miles and catching his attention, gwen wasted no time in sharing her plan, hoping it would be enough to neutralize the colossal floating threat.

"we need to find the panel at the back of his armor and shut it down," she explained, her voice resolute.

you walked over to join them, your annoyance evident as you stomped over. "gwen, you can't be serious with that plan," you told her, hands on your hips. "it's way too risky, even for you. look at what's happening around here!"

gwen looked at you, defending her plan while meeting your gaze. "what else do we have?" she retorted. "the longer we take, the more damage trump might do to this universe! we have to act fast, and we can't afford to waste time searching for alternatives!"

though confusion flickered across miles' face, gwen had faith that he would support her plan.

"we have to do this," she asserted, her voice firm.

"gwen, listen. if you're feeling guilty about trump being here, now is not the time," you yelled in frustration. "i understand you want to help miles, but respectfully, this is the dumbest plan i've ever heard from you! it's close combat, which poses a significant risk. he's too massive and unpredictable. just look at the path of destruction he's leaving behind with his flailing legs. jumping on him could endanger innocent bystanders, including yourself!"

however, judging by the expression on gwen's face, it was clear she wasn't buying your reasoning.

"what do you expect us to do otherwise?” gwen snapped, her frustration now boiling over. "if we don't tackle this head-on, this donald trump will bring complete destruction to this earth! can't you see what's happening here?"

she gestured to the chaos surrounding them, emphasizing the dire situation.

"you have a better plan?" gwen challenged. "please, enlighten us! come up with something new, because time is running out."

before you could offer an alternative, gwen grabbed miles' arm and swung off with him. you let out an aggravated yell, following closely behind, but by the time you caught up with them, they had already set their plan in motion.

gwen quickly assessed her surroundings, searching for anything that could aid them in the battle against m.o.d.a.a.k. her gaze landed on a nearby construction crane, and she swung next to it, her mind working swiftly.

turning to miles, she spoke calmly, "can you throw me up as high as possible? with enough speed, i might be able to knock him off balance."

the sight was disheartening. miles and gwen struggled in their attempts to combat the floating head, who grew more frustrated by their relentless presence. suddenly, he started spinning frantically after miles accidentally touched a component apart from his tech suit. it sparked an idea in your mind on how to neutralize him.

however, your attention shifted as you noticed pavitr in harm's way, with the airborne m.o.d.a.a.k. hurtling towards him.

gwen swiftly recognized the imminent danger and reacted in a split second. she shot a web at m.o.d.a.a.k., specifically targeting an area of his body that wasn't shielded by his armor. the web hit its mark, sending him flying backward, crashing into a nearby building.

the building happened to be under construction, which meant there were no people inside, providing a sense of relief. yet, your eyes widened as you realized the structure couldn't withstand the weight of the massive m.o.d.a.a.k. the building crumbled and collapsed into the water.

everyone swung over to the site, landing on the debris of the fallen building.

"pavitr, you alright?" you asked, giving him a friendly shoulder nudge.

"you know it," he replied with his usual cheery demeanor.

suddenly, all eyes turned to the water as it began bubbling before abruptly stopping.

"electronics don't do too well in water, so... we should be good, right?" miles nervously asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. you turned your head to face him, giving him a blank look. "yeah, i didn't think so either," he admitted weakly.

bravely, you approached the edge where the water met the debris, peering down cautiously.

"be careful!" margo called out from behind you.

you gazed into the seemingly empty depths.

"soooo, is the big guy down or what?" hobie asked, breaking the silence as you remained silent, observing the sea.

before you could respond, an enraged m.o.d.a.a.k. emerged from the water, more aggressive and determined than ever. the battle was far from over.

"ummm... guys?" she asked, turning back to look at you, miles, hobie, margo, and pavitr. "i think we might have a problem..."

suddenly, the m.o.d.a.a.k. unleashed a violent wave of water towards the group, knocking them all down. gwen felt herself being pulled away by the force of the water, but managed to reach for one of her spider-webs and quickly shoot it towards the trump variant.

you swiftly shot out a web and grabbed onto a rusted pole nearby, pulling yourself up to a vantage point where you could assess the area.

"i've had enough of this," you muttered to yourself as you dialed margo's number on your watch.

"margo, are you hurt?" you asked, concern evident in your voice.

she chuckled dryly in response. "you think i'm gonna be taken down by an orange big baby bigot? you've got another thing coming."

you laughed, appreciating margo's indomitable spirit. "listen, i need you to see if you can compromise his software. try to hack into it and disrupt his flight control," you instructed.

"you got it," margo replied sharply, her determination palpable. you ended the call and proceeded to contact the rest of the team.

"listen up, new plan," you announced, ensuring everyone was on the line. "margo is going to hack into the software m.o.d.a. a. k. is using to control his flight. meanwhile, the rest of us will lead him to a more remote area, away from the general public. once margo can disable his flight, we'll surround him and weave a web cocoon to immobilize him. understood?"

you received agreements from everyone except gwen, who seemed lost in her thoughts. miles tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

"gwen, you good?" he asked, concern in his voice. "you haven't said anything this whole time."

"oh, right!" gwen replied, sounding distracted. "yeah, i'm in."

with the plan set, everyone sprang into action.

margo skillfully hacked into his software without detection. "get ready," she warned, as she began manipulating his flight controls.

m.o.d.a. a.k. started moving erratically, flying upward, downward, and in multiple directions, resembling a sickening spectacle. then suddenly, he went limp and began descending toward the ground.

"now!" you yelled, signaling the team to surround him. together, you spun thick webs that enveloped his body, forming a sturdy silk cocoon.

after securing m.o.d.a. a. k. in place, you all worked together to create a stable landing spot made entirely of spider-webs, ensuring the safety of both m.o.d.a.k. and the surrounding area.

as citizens gathered around, witnessing the strange sight, they began applauding. you and your team exchanged small waves, acknowledging their appreciation.

"thank god..." miles exclaimed, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "nice job, everyone."

you all let out tired huffs and puffs, drained from the rush of adrenaline and the physical exertion. however, the relief of the battle's conclusion was short-lived as miguel arrived in an aircraft from headquarters, seemingly to transport m.o.d.a. a. k. away. lab personnel from the spider society surrounded the scene, evacuating nearby civilians from the cocooned monstrosity in the middle of the street.

as everyone else dispersed, miles made his way to the chief of police to provide an explanation of what had transpired. meanwhile, you found yourself engaged in a conversation with miguel, providing him with a detailed report of the events. from a distance, you spotted gwen standing alone in front of the m.o.d.a.a.k. cocoon, piquing your curiosity.

after concluding your conversation with miguel, you approached gwen, calling out to get her attention. however, she didn't respond, deep in her own thoughts.

frustration welled up within you, and you couldn't hold it in any longer. "gwen, what the hell is your problem with me?" you pressed, your voice rising.

gwen was startled by your sudden outburst, turning to face you with a confused expression. "hm? what are you talking about?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she tried to comprehend your question. "why would i have a problem with you?"

just as the argument between you and gwen began to escalate, miles returned after speaking with the chief of police, sensing the tension in the air. he decided to intervene and find out what was happening.

"what's going on?" miles asked, his voice tinged with concern.

annoyance etched across your face, you directed your frustration towards miles. "nothing's wrong, except for the fact that you and gwen were acting like damn idiots out there!" you snapped, taking a step closer to him. "do you realize how many people could've gotten hurt? do you understand the damage you caused, the buildings that were destroyed?"

your anger was evident, fueled by gwen's apparent neglect of your friendship and her persistent focus on miles. it seemed they always wanted to take matters into their own hands, disregarding any collaborative efforts. their plan had been flawed.

miles took a step back, his expression a mix of surprise and defensiveness. "look, i understand that you're mad. but we had to do whatever we could to stop that freak," he replied calmly, trying to maintain composure. "we had to act quickly, you know that. and you can call me an idiot all you want, but in the end, didn't we succeed?"

"we? we didn't do much, you know," you mocked, pointing a finger towards the trapped m.o.d.a.a.k. cocoon and then back to your face. "modak is trapped because of me! while you two were off doing whatever the hell you pleased, i came up with the plan to capture him. you needed to listen to me, but no! you two lovebirds were lost in your own world," you spat out, frustration evident in your words.

gwen felt her heart sink as your anger turned towards her, accompanied by an intense glare. you accused miles and her of being irresponsible during the battle, highlighting the near catastrophe caused by miles' actions.

"hey, wait a minute," gwen replied, her irritation growing as you hurled insults at her and miles. "miles and i did our best, okay? we helped stop that m.o.d.a.a.k., remember?" she looked you in the eye, defending both herself and miles. "why can't you ever acknowledge our efforts?"

you scoffed at gwen's comment, unable to fathom her perspective. "have you ever thought of doing stand-up comedy, gwen? because you're a literal joke if you think you helped. does provoking him to the point where he nearly caused a mini tsunami in brooklyn not ring a bell? because that shit just happened! and how the hell do you expect me to acknowledge your efforts when you don't even acknowledge me?" you shouted, your frustration boiling over.

the argument had clearly escalated from a disagreement about the mission to a more personal confrontation. miles, feeling the tension, awkwardly decided to retreat from the conversation. "um... you two... i should... i'll just... go," he mumbled, attempting to diffuse the situation and give both of you some space.

you two turned your gaze back to each other, the weight of the argument hanging heavily in the air. the tension between you was palpable as you stood there, hurt and frustrated.

"okay, fine, maybe i don't acknowledge you enough," gwen replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of defensiveness and honesty. "but that doesn't change the fact that we're friends. we're on a team, dammit. i thought that we trusted each other."

you crossed your arms, your frustration still evident. "gwen, how can i trust you when you can't even follow through on simple promises?"

gwen looked at you, her brows furrowing in confusion as she crossed her arms in return. "what promises?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

you let out a sigh, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "this whole summer, you've barely spent any time with me. and after our fight, you said you wouldn't bail on plans anymore, but you just did it again. it feels like you don't care to make an effort or you simply don't want to see me. do you even realize how much it hurts? all i've wanted is to be around you, but every time we do, it feels like you're running away, like you're scared. i just wanted to hold your hand, to feel close to you. but instead, i feel like i've been chasing after you tryna cling to you like a fucking leech, and it's exhausting. it makes me question if it was all a waste of time. so tell me, am i a waste of time to you?" you confessed, your voice filled with a mix of anger and vulnerability.

gwen's initial defensive stance softened as your words sank in. deep down, she was scared of commitment, afraid of the responsibilities and stress that come with close relationships. but now she realized the impact her actions were having on you.

a flicker of regret crossed gwen's face as she realized the pain she had caused. "yes, you are a waste of time," she had blurted out, but the moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back.

shock and hurt washed over you, your voice trembling as you struggled to process her response. "are you for real? after everything... just like that?" tears welled up in your eyes, your emotions overwhelming you.

you placed a hand over your chest, feeling your heartbeat pounding like an aggressive drum. the pain of gwen's words cut deep, and you couldn't bear it any longer. "you know what, gwen? fuck you," you said, the words laced with pain and anger, as tears streamed down your face.

gwen's stomach twisted with remorse, realizing the weight of her thoughtless words. she desperately wanted to take them back, to make things right, but she could see that you were too hurt to listen or care.

turning away, you withdrew from gwen's reach, not wanting to face her in that moment. overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, you massaged your temples, trying to calm the storm brewing inside you.

gwen understood that you needed space, but she couldn't bear the thought of leaving things unresolved. she had to fix this. "i'm so, so sorry! i didn't mean what i said, i really didn't," she pleaded, her voice frantic. "i was just mad, okay? i didn't think before i spoke. please, give me a chance to explain."

as gwen spoke, her voice started fading away, and you felt a tingling sensation intensify in your head. suddenly, you realized what it was—it was your spider sense.

turning towards the m.o.d.a.a.k. cocoon, time seemed to slow down as you saw him slice a slit in the silk, preparing to launch an attack. without hesitation, you pushed gwen to the floor, your instincts taking over to protect her.

chaos ensued as other spider people rushed to contain the situation. in the midst of the commotion, you felt a sharp, stabbing pain in your side. instinctively, you reached down to grip the source of the pain, only to have your hand come away wet with blood. you had taken the blow intended for gwen.

m.o.d.a.a.k. had shot you.

your vision grew hazy as the pain intensified, and you realized the gravity of the situation. in that moment, all the hurt and anger faded away, replaced by a deep concern for your own well-being. as everything faded to darkness, you couldn't help but wonder if gwen would realize the depth of her feelings before it was too late.

"(y/n), are you okay?" gwen yelled out, her instincts kicking in as she rushed to your side, her voice filled with urgency.

her eyes widened as she took in the sight of you, blood pouring from your wounds. a wave of worry washed over her, and her stomach twisted with fear. "hey, stay with me," she pleaded.

weakly, you managed to ask, "gwen, are you okay?"

her heart ached at the sound of your weakened voice. "stay with me, please," she repeated, her tone softer this time, her own fear causing her mouth to go dry.

desperately, gwen reached out to you, her hand trembling as she brushed against your arm, wanting to offer some form of comfort. but in the face of such a dire situation, she felt utterly helpless. the pool of blood around you was expanding rapidly, and the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her. doubts and fears raced through her mind, fearing that she might lose you.

"shhh, just relax. breathe," you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of pain and reassurance. gwen listened attentively, doing as you instructed, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

as you felt her tension ease, a faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips. despite your own condition, you wanted to provide her with some comfort.

gwen felt a glimmer of relief as she saw you momentarily relax. your bloody hand rested on her chest, seeking solace in her touch as she held you tightly in her arms.

but as time passed, your eyelids grew heavier, and your consciousness slipped in and out. the world around you faded into darkness as you succumbed to the overwhelming blood loss, and you passed out.

"no, no, no..." gwen whispered to herself, her voice filled with a mix of anguish and determination.

with tears welling up in her eyes, gwen carefully lifted your limp body, cradling you in her arms. she refused to let despair consume her. with every ounce of strength she could summon, she reassured you, whispering that everything would be alright.

in a display of unwavering resolve, gwen carried you, her steps steady but her heart heavy, as she made her way towards help. the weight of her emotions—fear, worry, concern, anxiety, and regret—pressed upon her, but she took a deep breath, determined to stay strong for your sake.

as she gently placed you onto a gurney, the tension in her body was evident.

a day had passed since the incident, and you had undergone surgery. surprisingly, you fared better than expected, and as you sat up, you realized you were in the emergency care department of the headquarters. clad in a hospital gown, you slowly lifted it, revealing the bandages wrapped around your wounds.

confusion clouded your mind until you noticed gwen entering the room, dressed in her normal attire. her eyes widened upon seeing you awake, a mix of relief and worry evident on her face.

"you're awake!" she exclaimed, a big smile forming on her face.

gwen approached you cautiously, her gaze fixed on the bandages and hospital gown that concealed your injuries.

"how do you feel?" she asked.

she stepped closer before taking a seat on your bedside, unable to contain her emotions, and quickly wrapped her arms around you in a strong embrace. your body tensed in pain from your abdomen as you let out a small gasp, but her presence provided a sense of comfort.

"what the hell happened?" you asked, sitting up, your bewilderment evident.

as you posed the question, gwen's face turned nervous, her voice slightly trembling. "that m.o.d.a.a.k. shot you," she replied, the words catching in her throat. "you took the bullet for me."

her gratitude spilled forth as her eyes studied your form. "thank you," she added, her voice filled with a mix of appreciation and remorse.

taken aback by her words, you felt a flood of memories rush back, the events of the fight and her hurtful remark resurfacing in your mind like a turbulent wave.

"yeah, i remember," you recalled, rubbing your head as a headache set in. "that happened after..."

the words caught in your throat as you couldn't bring yourself to say it, the memory of gwen calling you a waste of time after you had confessed your feelings still fresh in your mind.

sensing the tension in the air, gwen acknowledged the weight of the past events. "yeah... that fight," she replied softly, her voice tinged with regret.

the realization that you were now in a better state and on the path to recovery prompted gwen to address the lingering issue. determination flickered in her eyes as she mustered the courage to explain herself.

"yeah, um, i wanted to talk about that," gwen began. "what i said... i didn't mean any of it, okay? i was just angry."

as gwen placed her hands on your arm to stop you from rubbing your head, you pulled your arm away, a hint of skepticism in your voice. "you keep saying that, gwen," you commented. "really, don't force yourself to be around me. especially if you don't feel the way i do. just because i took a hit for you doesn't mean you owe me this," you explained, your words laced with a mix of resignation and self-preservation.

gwen frowned and looked away, a mixture of hurt and determination flickering in her eyes. "it's not about you taking a bullet for me," she replied, her voice soft but earnest. "it's about me hurting you with those comments i made. i didn't mean a single word of what i said. and i'm not forcing myself to do anything... i love being around you, (y/n)."

she spoke with sincerity, her words carrying the weight of remorse. "i said those things because i was an idiot, not because i think you're a waste of time. because you aren't."

you couldn't help but feel a surge of confusion as you searched her eyes for answers. "if it's not that, then what's your problem?" you asked, your tone a mix of frustration and curiosity.

gwen fell silent for a few moments, her gaze fixed on the floor as she grappled with her emotions. "fear," she finally answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

her confession hung in the air, and she continued, her voice gaining strength. "fear of getting too attached, fear of hurting you by accident, fear of falling in love..." her vulnerability was clear as she admitted her feelings openly. "i just don't want to mess things up, okay? it's been a struggle for me to feel comfortable with... commitment. it's complicated."

moved by her honesty, you reached out and gently took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "gwen, you can talk to me," you assured, your voice filled with empathy.

taking a deep breath, gwen met your gaze directly, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and nervousness. "you're right," she replied, her voice steadier now. "i've been avoiding you because i was scared. scared that..."

she paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "i have always liked you more than a friend," she stated, her words blunt and honest. "but i was worried that i might ruin our friendship if i admitted it to you. so i ended up pushing you away. i'm sorry."

the shock was evident on your face as you processed her words. "you like me back?" you asked, your voice filled with surprise. "so the whole time you were avoiding me... you were scared?"

gwen nodded quietly, a tinge of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "i- yeah," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "but i was nervous to spend time with just the two of us. it felt like something changed between us. and i guess i didn’t want my feelings to be confirmed, even tho being away from you did the exact opposite.”

she looked down, feeling a mix of nervousness and shame. "i can't believe i was acting like this toward someone i like. how stupid am i?" her voice trailed off, her self-criticism evident.

placing a hand on her cheek, you gently turned her face to meet your gaze. "hey, hey," you spoke softly, your thumb stroking her cheek. "that's all in the past now. i know it's hard to be vulnerable, but you can do it."

gwen's heart fluttered at your touch, a warmth filling her. your words resonated deeply within her, and she felt a newfound determination take hold. "you're right," she replied, her voice more confident. "i can do it. and that's what i want to do—to be vulnerable with you."

you grinned at her as the gentle touch of your thumb on her cheek stirred something within her. with a surge of courage, gwen leaned in, meeting your lips in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

gwen's lips met yours in a tender, passionate kiss, her weight pressing against you slightly as you instinctively put both hands up to cup her cheek. closing your eyes, you surrendered to the moment, savoring the feeling of her lips against yours.

the sensation of gwen's kiss was like a dream come true, an intoxicating blend of passion and love that left you breathless. she continued to kiss you, her lips moving with a fervent energy that sent tingles of excitement throughout your entire body. in that moment, all worries and nerves faded away, replaced by the sheer intensity of the connection between you.

as you pulled back slightly, your eyes locked with gwen's, a joyful giggle escaping your lips. a broad smile spread across your face, reflecting the happiness that filled your heart.

gwen's heart raced, her stomach aflutter as she met your gaze. it was a sensation she had never experienced before, but one she embraced fully. "you have no idea how long i've been wanting to do that," she confessed, her voice slightly breathless. "thank you for being so understanding," she added, her smile radiant.

taking a moment to readjust herself, gwen mirrored your earlier gesture, placing her hand gently on your cheek. the weight of her touch felt light, yet it conveyed a profound sense of happiness and contentment.

"of course, i'll always understand you," you reassured her, your voice filled with sincerity. you chuckled at her remark. "well, we don't have to wait around anymore, do we?" you playfully remarked, leaning in for another kiss. in that moment, it felt like everything was falling into place.

gwen wrapped her arms around your neck, drawing herself even closer to you, her body moving in sync with yours. the taste of your mouth was both sweet and comforting, fueling a strength within her.

she wished this moment could last forever, but she knew that reality would eventually intrude, bringing an end to this blissful interlude.

so, gwen allowed herself to fully immerse in the joy of the present, cherishing every second of this special kiss, knowing deep down that it would become one of the most cherished memories of this unforgettable summer.

© 2023 primaviva — likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated!

[k9emote]

NEW ANIMAL IDENTITY TERM. ANIFAUX. COINED BY US (k9s)

ANIFAUX - Someone who has some sort of deep rooted connection to an animal(s). These individuals feel out of place in their body, and that they would fit better as a species other than human. Their behavior, love style, and personality might reflect this behavior naturally. Anifauxies may have had a deep rooted connection to their anifauxtype since childhood, or could've discovered recently. They differ from therians and otherkin in the way that they know they are human and don't have any religious beliefs around their identity, but that feels fundamentally wrong. Their mental state more often than not reflects their anifauxtype, and though they may shift to a heavier anifaux regression, the constant animalistic view on the world never truly goes away.

if you relate, find out your anifauxtype below

How does this differ from Therians?

We made this because Therianthropy/Nonhuman/Otherkin just didn't feel right. Some Therians aren't religious, and I can see how other nonhuman identities are similar! We just made this term because those didn't feel right. It feels as if god accidentally put an animals brain in our body (though we don't believe that, it's just a heavy identity feeling.) It's definitely something to do with our mental disorders that make it hard to socialize with people. But Dogs? Cats? Befriended instantly. We love like a dog, our physical behavior reflects canines, yet we know we're human. But "human" is just wrong.

TERM LIST

- Anifaux , General Term

- Anifauxtype , Specific Animal

- Anifauxies , Members of this Term

ANIFAUXTYPES

- Canidfaux (Dogs, Foxes, Wolves, Coyotes, etc)

- Felidfaux (Domestic Cats, Lions, Jaguars, etc)

- Leporidfaux (Rabbits and Hares)

- Ursidfaux (Bears)

- Avianfaux (Birds)

- Chirofaux (Bats)

- Rodenfaux (Hamsters, Rats, Ferrets, etc)

- Amphifaux (Frogs, Salamanders, etc)

- Arthrofaux (Spiders, Scorpians, Butterflies, Bees, etc)

- Vertefaux (Sharks, Fish, Rays, etc)

- Procyfaux (Raccoons, Ringtails, etc)

- Reptilfaux (Snakes, Turtles, Bearded Dragons, etc)

- Hyaenfaux (Hyenas)

- Ungufaux - (Sheep, Goats, Deer, etc)

- Mustelfaux (Weasels, Badgers, Otters, etc)

The way this naming system works is based on the scientific groupings of animals. If you don't see yours - look up your anifauxtypes scientific grouping, shorten it, and slap faux on the end. C:

[ganondoodle]

was at my sisters house to watch the cats a bit and played some botw again after a long time, spent an hour running around phirone (faron) and checking out all the cool sonau (zonai) stuff and i felt a wave of sadness wash over me, those ruins there feel so ... heavy with story, with sadness of tragedy, with the thrill of the unkown, yet its revealed to be nothing in totk, i honestly dont feel like the sonau of botw and of totk are at all releated tbh, theres like, NO design overlap besides sometimes some dragon-like figures that feel more like they put them into totk just to have some connection at all-

the botw sonau ruins are all full of curves hewn into dark stone with red accents, theres swirls and snakes everywhere, appropriately withered by time and weather- it was already a stupid idea to replace the shiekah tech with literally another ancient highly advanced civilaztion, but then to not even make them look or feel at all connected to the little things that were there?? totk sonau is white stone and gold and green, its all extremely angular and clean cut, together with weird hologram shit that reads, somehow, as both unfittingly techy to everything else while also neither mechnical nor magical

its fucking bonkers, i know they put some totk sonau bullshit into some of the ruins in totk, like the main ones in phirone but like, especially in that case with the direct comparison its so jarring and artificial, and i hate the excuse of "hylians built those different looking buildings as a monument to the sonau", like we needed more shitty excuses for bad writing decisions- the ancient AND current hylian stuff aligns more with totk sonau stuff, why would they adopt a completely different style to built shit around actual sonau stuff that somehow also looks like it was abandoned like, 50 years, 100 years ago, not over TEN THOUSAND years ago, both the botw sonau ruins and the shiekah tech look more ancient than anything totk sonau

and what for??? i imagine more botw sonau style ruins and like, thats entirely possible, why make it sth utterly different and give it a shitty excuse?? its so unnecessary?? like okay make the wheels out of withered stone hanging together like clumps by invisible magic like how the iwaroks (the .. stone enemy) works- i still would like it sicne i dont like the whole building thing in botws world, but at least it would feel like truly magic bs and fit into the design of botw sonau (even though im still not over NOTHING ever hinting that they were one step away from spaceships hologram aliens, the refusal to work with the stuff they themselves have put into their games drives me up a wall, YOU PUT IT THERE! DO SOMETHIGN WITH IT!)

just to put some modern tech into it? was it worth it?? (no)- and there i could even go on about how much i hate the 'tech' design too, its too little mechanical to be called 'tech' but too modern tech like to call it 'magic', (a balance which the shiekah tech did tremendously well imo) i keep being impressed with how conflicting and incoherent design and story can be in this one single overpriced game

(the reason them making it so modern techy looking was so players would immediately know what it was apparently and i just ... doesnt that make it more boring? like instead of the shiekah stone(slate) they just put a flip phone with numbered buttons and all and give it a vaguely stone texture? instead of like, a guardian with its spider legs and strange creepy design, just put a fucking tank there??? (and like, in a way i feel like the fact that they still tried to not make it look too modern by putting that green texture on it and like, a face here and there, makes it WORSE, a bad cover up is worse to me than none at all, like a shitty explanation can make sth worse than no explanation at all *ahem* literally every interview they did >:C )

also i dont know how you could even design a fan so it doesnt look like a fan? you dont need to put in literal car wheels with suspension and all in there to make it clear its a wheel bc how would you even design a wheel so it doesnt read like a wheel???

since when did they get so anxious about players not understanding something?? the whole series was built on puzzles of varying difficulty, whats with the sudden loss in trust in the player?? botw was already pretty easy but in totk the whole game treats you like you cant think or remember sth for more than 30 seconds to the point it gets actively agonizing to play through- the same two sentences of unimportant info repeated and shown to your face over and over, both in story and gameplay- and even with their immediately readable design choices for the sonau 'tech' they made half teh shrines either sloggingly slow tutorials or one puzzle shrines that are dedicated to teach you how the obvious thing works when you really learn it all on the literal tutorial island AND its obvious from the start BECAUSE THEY WANTED IT TO BE OBVIOUS!! its fun to figure things out and try stuff, its no fun to have a step by step guide glued to your forehead at all times especially when its so obvious, yes thanks for teaching me that a literal fire hydrant spits out water!! wow! never thought about that! thanks for telling me it 5 times too!! (even if it annoys me that they can just do that when not connected to the ground .. would have been more fun to make puzzle with if they were,,), its part of why i felt like the game was so condescending or outright laughing at me-

why even try to teach me how a fan works over and over when like, there arent even any creative things you can do with it in a reasonable amount of time and its never needed or incentivised either bc the game just hands you the literal solution or at the very least give you the four parts or what that you need to make what you need, like pulling apart two bricks of baby lego in fornt of a toddler to see if they can put them back together once you hand it to them

and dont come at me with the "its for kids" argument, the old games were too and theres alot of stages of 'kid', they arent stupid either and nintendo should know that they have alot of adult fans too, it doesnt need to be dark souls and its allowed to have easy stuff in there but the fact that it never gets any more challenging is the problem, yes part of the fun in games can be making your own rules and messing around but it really shouldnt be controversial to want a 70 bucks game to offer a fun experience without you having to make it fun all on your own (i for one dont enjoy spending 30 minutes glueing togehter a tank with ear shattering lasers just to inefficiently beat up 3 bokblins i could just swing my sword at for a few seconds instead and are not worth the materials spend anyway)

in the end it would have been less immersion breaking and more fun if they straight up put a honda civic into the game you can summon anywhere at no cost (hmmmm where did they just do it before hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm) and transforms like a batmobile to fly around in rather than the weird sonau nuts and bolts hassle you have to put up with, costs stuff, can waste hours of your time and despawn as soon as you look away from it unless you want to make le funny tiktok videos i guess

its such a waste too bc the mechanic itself IS impressive, but its utterly missplaced in this game, it would have needed its own, truly own, game built around it, placing it in botws world is like dumping a bunch of knock off brand toys into a world that felt believable and meaningful turning it to feel like its really just a game for you to mess around in, never has a game felt more gamey to me and it SUCKS to have that magic pulled away like that, silly me for letting them make me care about it i guess

maybe its petty but as someone how really cares alot about design stuff, both visually and gameplay wise, it makes me furious to think about (as you can tell) .. also hyperfixation go brrrrrrr

(this is obviously my view on it, writing this to get it out, not to argue, i believe i have heard all the arguments already anyway and by this point all that is left is just insulting me directly lol)

[chion3spid3r]

will love prevail ?

pairings : agedup!e1610!miles x black!cat!reader

warnings : violence and combat, smut, suggestive, physical reactions, sexual tension, profanity, emotional distress, manipulation, power dynamics, alcohol consumption, threats, high tension and adrenaline.

summary : miles morales, the Brooklyn Spider-Man, encounters Black Cat, a skilled thief who turns out to be a girl from his class…

word count : 4.9k

a/n : the part twooo ! yeah there’s smut at the end ! minors dni.

pt1 -> pt2

That night after, Miles swung you back towards your neighborhood, the cool night air whipping past as you clung to him. He landed deftly on the fire escape outside your bedroom window.

"Home sweet home," you said with a small smile, reluctant to let go of him just yet.

Miles looked at you, his eyes shining with admiration behind his mask. "You were incredible tonight, y/n. I'm in awe of your strength and courage."

A blush crept across your cheeks at his praise. "I couldn't have done it without you, Miles. You gave me the hope and support I needed."

For a moment, you simply gazed at each other, a world of understanding and newfound intimacy passing between you. Then, unable to resist any longer, you reached up and gently pulled his mask down before leaning in to kiss him deeply.

Miles eagerly returned the kiss, his strong arms wrapping around you and holding you close. The kiss was fierce yet tender, conveying everything you felt for him in that heated moment – gratitude, affection, passion.

When you finally parted, you were both breathless. You reached up to tenderly stroke his cheek. "Thank you, for everything," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

He leaned his forehead against yours. "Always," was his soft reply, filled with promise.

With one last lingering look, you slipped through the window into your room as Miles pulled his mask back up. He gave you a little salute before swinging off into the night. You watched him disappear into the skyline, letting out a contented sigh as you touched your still-tingling lips. Your hero.

--

The next day at school, it was almost comical how "normal" you and Miles had to act. You took your usual seat, quirking an eyebrow at him as he sauntered in. He met your gaze and gave you a lopsided grin, sliding into the seat next to you.

"Studying hard last night, Morales?" you teased, unable to resist.

He chuckled softly. "You know it, y/n. Burning the midnight oil and everything."

The banter continued through classes, skirting that delicious line of flirtation that only the two of you truly understood. You'd make some quip about needing a study partner, and he'd offer to lend a hand with whatever you were "working" on. The knowing looks and barely-concealed grins made it obvious there was something more simmering beneath the surface.

By the afternoon, you could barely contain your eagerness to get out of the classroom. As soon as the final bell rang, you grabbed Miles and pulled him into a secluded corner.

"Feel like hitting the town?" you asked with a playful glint in your eye.

Miles grinned widely. "Thought you'd never ask. Race you there?"

You were already gone in a blur of motion, leaving a laughing Miles to catch up. The chase was on.

Moments later, you were soaring through the air in your Black Cat suit, Miles in his Spider-Man attire swinging alongside you. The city stretched out below like a vast playground, ripe for rooftop running and endless acrobatics.

"Keeping up, Spider?" you called out as you vaulted over a ventilation unit.

"You wish!" he shot back, using his webs to propel himself forward in an intricate flip.

You laughed brightly, caught up in the sheer exhilaration of moving in tandem with your partner. There was an effortless flow between you, like you'd been doing this together for years rather than mere days.

At one point, Miles swooped down and snaked an arm around your waist mid-swing, pulling you flush against him as you sailed through the air together. Your startled laugh quickly melted into a grin as you gazed up at him.

"Slick moves there, Spider-Man," you purred.

"You know me," he replied with a rakish grin behind the mask. "Always looking to sweep a girl off her feet."

You rolled your eyes at his cheesy line, but leaned in to press a swift kiss against his masked cheek nonetheless. "My hero."

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, keeping you secure in his grip as you continued your high-flying journey through the cityscape. Teasing banter and shared laughs filled the air between you, a heady mix of flirtation and deep comfort.

At one point, you scaled to the top of a skyscraper, settling comfortably side-by-side on a raised ledge to catch your breath. The city spread out before you in a glittering tapestry of lights.

"Not a bad way to end the day, eh Spider-Man?" you remarked, gently nudging him with your elbow.

He turned to look at you, his expression warm even behind the mask. "Best day ever, if you ask me."

You felt your cheeks flush a bit at his tender tone. Impulsively, you reached out and traced the contours of his mask. "You know…we don't have to hide behind these when we're together."

Miles was quiet for a beat, searching your eyes, then slowly pulled off his mask. You followed suit, both of you shedding your secret identities for a few precious moments.

"Just Miles and y/n," he said softly, cupping your cheek.

You leaned into his touch with a contented sigh. "Just us."

As the sun began to set over the city skyline, you nestled close to him, drinking in the tranquility and joy of simply being together without secrets or personas between you. His arm draped comfortably around your shoulders, holding you near.

In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and belonging wash over you. No matter what adventures lay ahead, you knew you would face them all by Miles' side – as partners, as heroes, as something more.

The days and nights that followed were a whirlwind of crimefighting, rooftop escapades, and a deepening connection between you and Miles. During the day at school, it was an intricate dance of lingering looks, inside jokes, and casual intimacies that went unnoticed by your peers.

But once you donned your masks and took to the city streets, everything amplified tenfold. You moved in perfect synchronicity, covering each other's blind spots and trading off quips like you'd been doing it your whole lives. There was a trust, an almost telepathic bond, that only strengthened with each passing night.

One evening found the two of you perched on the ledge of an office tower, idly swinging your legs back and forth as you gazed out over the twinkling cityscape.

"Some night, huh?" Miles remarked, his shoulder brushing against yours.

You hummed in agreement, tilting your head slightly to rest on his shoulder. "Like something out of a comic book."

"Hey, if this was a comic, we'd definitely be the most badass hero team ever," he chuckled.

Rolling your eyes fondly, you playfully shoved his arm. "As if you weren't already an egomaniac in that Spider-suit."

"Oh, like you're one to talk, Miss Cat Burglar Bombshell," he shot back with a laugh.

"Hey now, no calling me bombshell unless you can back it up, Spider-stud," you purred, delighting in the way his cheeks flushed beneath his mask.

Miles sputtered for a moment before regaining his composure, scooting closer until your sides were pressed flush together. "Is that a challenge?"

You grinned wickedly, biting your lower lip. "Maybe it is. What are you gonna do about it?"

His response was to suddenly lean in and capture your lips in a heated kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the embrace. You melted against him with a soft hum of pleasure, returning the kiss with equal fervor.

When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, you gazed at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Well…I'll admit, you've got some moves there, Spider-Man."

"Oh, I'm just getting started," he murmured, the rumble of his voice sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

You gazed at him with a mixture of desire and determination. As intense as this intimate connection was, you knew there was still unfinished business to attend to.

"Miles…" you began, gently extracting yourself from his embrace. "We should talk about Kingpin."

He nodded soberly, the playful moment passing as you both refocused. With a quick scaling of the nearby edifice, you settled cross-legged atop the highest point, the city laid out before you.

"What do we know?" Miles asked, all business now.

You pursed your lips. "He's been keeping a low profile since his release on probation, but my sources say he's planning something big. There's a charity gala two nights from now - he'll be in attendance to maintain appearances."

"A gala, huh?" Miles mused. "Seems like the perfect place for him to make a power play of some kind."

"Exactly what I was thinking," you agreed grimly. "If we can get inside, catch him off-guard while he's making whatever move he's planning…"

Miles looked at you sharply. "You mean infiltrate the gala? As civilians?"

"It's our best shot to get close without him suspecting," you reasoned. "I can get us credentials, play the role of your plus-one or something."

He was quiet for a long moment, conflicted. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. "Okay. Okay, we'll do it your way. Just…promise you'll be careful?"

You reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm too strong to be in danger, spidey"

The set of his jaw softened slightly as he gave your hand a reciprocating squeeze. "Meh..."

--

That night at the opulent charity gala, Miles stood outside the grand entrance, tugging at the collar of his perfectly tailored tuxedo. His eyes scanned the arriving guests, searching for a familiar face amidst the sea of designer gowns and outlandish jewelry.

Then, his breath caught in his throat as you appeared, a vision in black that made his heart skip a beat. The sleek, floor-length dress hugged every delicious curve, the plunging neckline leaving just enough to the imagination. Your hair was swept up in an elegant updo, tendrils framing your face and collarbone enticingly.

As you drew nearer, Miles drank in every detail - the sway of your hips, the smoky eye makeup that made your eyes seem to smolder, the deep crimson of your painted lips. When your gazes finally met, you offered him a coquettish smile that made his mouth go dry.

"See something you like, Spider-Man?" you purred once within earshot.

He swallowed hard, completely transfixed. "I…uh…wow. You look…incredible."

Chuckling softly, you did a little spin, letting the dress's skirt flare out dramatically. "You clean up pretty nicely yourself, hot stuff. Shall we?"

Miles managed to regain some composure, offering his arm gallantly. "After you, mi'lady."

You thrilled at the spark of desire in his eyes as you looped your arm through his, leaning in just a bit closer than propriety dictated. With a shared, conspiratorial grin, you led the way inside, ready to begin the night's risky mission.

The hotel's grand ballroom was a lavish display of opulence - glittering chandeliers, towering floral displays, and a seemingly endless supply of champagne. The city's wealthiest elite mingled and air-kissed, comparing outrageous jewelry and rumor-trading over tiny hors d'oeuvres.

You couldn't resist a disdainful sniff as you surveyed the pompous scene. "Vultures, all of them."

"Be nice," Miles murmured beside you with a faint smirk. "We're two of those vultures tonight, remember?"

"Hmm, I prefer to think of myself as more of a sexy panther amongst flamingos," you rejoined with a wink, delighting in the way his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

True to form, your banter and casual flirtation continued throughout the evening as you mingled seamlessly with the gala crowd. You danced, you drank, you played the part of the coquettish socialite with her sophisticated beau to the nines.

All the while, your sharp eyes continuously tracked the towering figure of Wilson Fisk himself, looking for any indication of what dastardly plot he might have brewing. Miles was a solid, reassuring presence at your side, the two of you anticipating action with every fiber of your being.

The pivotal moment came when you noticed Kingpin breaking away from the main party, slipping off down an empty hallway with two scantily clad young women hanging on his arms. His expression was one of smug satisfaction, utterly unconcerned with keeping up pretenses any longer.

You felt a hot rush of fury grip your insides at the sight - this man who had destroyed your life, threatened everything you loved, and now he got to openly indulge like some kind of despotic sultan. The white-hot rage blinded you for a moment, allowing your careful persona to slip.

"That putrid, misogynistic bastard," you seethed under your breath, fists clenching involuntarily.

Miles looked at you sharply, instantly picking up on the dangerous shift in your demeanor. "Y/N…what are you--"

But you were already moving, slinking away and following Kingpin's path with the cold precision of a panther stalking its prey. Miles had no choice but to hurry after you, wincing at the way you practically kicked in the heavy door behind which Kingpin had disappeared.

The scene that greeted you was just as sordid as you'd expected - Kingpin reclining in a plush armchair, the two buxom beauties fawning over him as he guffawed with grotesque pleasure. The sight made your stomach churn with disgust and renewed fury.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite little wildcat," Kingpin sneered once the shock wore off, not even bothering to rise from his debauched position. "To what do I owe this rude interruption?"

In one smooth, practiced movement, you reached beneath the flowing fabric of your gown, withdrawing the compact pistol and twin blades you had concealed there. Your eyes were cold, hard, the eyes of someone pushed to the very brink.

"Get. Out," you hissed at the two women, who scattered like terrified pigeons at the sight of your weapons.

Kingpin watched them go with idle amusement slowly morphing into wariness as he regarded you. "Is there…a problem, my dear?"

"A problem?" You laughed then, a hollow, bitter sound that seemed to reverberate off the walls. "You RUINED me, you sick son of a bitch! You destroyed my life, my family…and now I get to watch you flaunt your power and privilege like you're some untouchable king?!"

In the corner of the room, Miles hovered uncertainly, clearly distressed by the volatile situation and the dangerous glint in your eye. "Y/N…let's not do anything rash here…"

But you paid him no heed, stalking closer to Kingpin with your weapons at the ready, punctuating every biting word. "I should have put you in the ground when I had the chance, instead of going soft."

The crime lord rose to his feet then, immense figure looming as he glared his own fury down at you. "You insolent little gnat! You should have learned your place the first time."

"My place?" you spat the words with venom. "I'll show you exactly where my place is!"

With that, you lashed out with one of your blades, a screeching cry of pure rage tearing from your lips. Kingpin reacted with surprising swiftness for his size, deflecting the strike and countering with a meaty fist aimed at your temple.

You dodged and the battle was joined in earnest. Miles leapt into the fray as well, trying desperately to subdue both you and Kingpin before the clashing titans did too much destruction. But you were like a force of nature unleashed, a maelstrom of blades and gunfire as you ducked, rolled, and struck out with cold precision.

"After everything you've taken from me…" CRACK! Your pistol butt connected with Kingpin's jaw, rocking his massive frame. "…you parade around like you're somebody!"

Your words dripped with acid as you rained down a series of slashing attacks, managing to open a long gash across his chest. Kingpin bellowed in pain and fury, lumbering towards you with terrifying single-mindedness.

"You are NOTHING, girl!" he thundered, huge hands grasping for your throat. "Just a replaceable speck I should have crushed a long time ago!"

You snarled wordlessly, ducking and ramming your blades towards his exposed stomach. He twisted at the last second and the blades lodged deep in his thigh instead with a meaty thunk, earning another roar of pain.

"Y/N! This has gone far enough!" Miles was at your side again, grasping your arm urgently even as Kingpin staggered back, dazed. "Killing him like this isn't the answer! Think about what you're doing!"

For a suspended breath, you were frozen, chest heaving as your eyes met Miles' - your rage and his concern warring within you. Slowly, you lowered your weapons, gritting your teeth.

"He took…everything…" you choked out, voice cracking with a sudden upwelling of heartbroken emotion.

Miles was there then, arms wrapped tight around you as his mouth found yours in a desperate, needful kiss. You clung to him fiercely, trembling in the emotional wake of the fury that had consumed you.

When you finally parted, his gaze smoldered into yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "I know, chica…I know. But not like this, okay?"

His thumb tenderly brushed away a tear you hadn't realized had fallen as your expression crumpled with shame, relief, and a dozen other powerful emotions swirling within you.

The sounds of the S.W.A.T team swarming into the room barely registered at first. It was only when Kingpin was being wrestled away, defeat and loathing etched across his bloodied features, that the weight of what had transpired seemed to settle upon your shoulders.

Miles kept you tucked protectively against his side as the officers secured the crime scene, barking orders and questions that faded into background noise. All that mattered in that moment was his solid presence anchoring you, grounding you after the maelstrom of emotion that had threatened to sweep you away entirely.

"I've got you," he murmured into your hair, the words laden with bone-deep reassurance. "It's over now."

You nodded mutely, unable to find your voice just yet as you focused on steadying your ragged breathing. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you feel almost lightheaded in the aftermath.

It wasn't until a gruff officer tried to separate the two of you that you found your steel again. "Like hell," you growled out.

The cop opened his mouth, undoubtedly to protest, but Miles raised a calming hand. "It's okay, officer. She's…she's with me. We'll cooperate fully, but you're not separating us right now."

His tone brokered no argument and after studying the two of you - Miles in his slightly disheveled tux, you in your sleek black gown now torn in several places with spatters of Kingpin's blood - the officer seemed to decide it wasn't worth the hassle. With a curt nod, he motioned for you both to follow him out.

The gala crowd was abuzz with chaotic whispers and thinly-veiled accusations as you and Miles strode through the ballroom. Heads turned, fingers pointed, but you kept your chin high, shoulders squared in defiant posture. At your side, Miles perfectly mirrored your proud, uncompromising mien - the picture of unshakable unity.

Only once you reached the exterior, the cool night air caressing your flushed skin, did you finally allow the first hint of a tremor to show. Miles halted immediately, turning to face you with tender concern.

"Hey…you still with me, ma?" His fingers gently brushed the hair back from your face, dark eyes searching yours intently.

You managed a shaky nod, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards in a rueful half-smile. "Y-yeah…I'm good, Miles. Just still coming down from the adrenaline rush of kicking that asshole's ass."

Miles chuckled softly at that, cradling your face in his palms as he studied you adoringly. "God, you were amazing in there - fucking beautiful and terrifying all at once." His voice dropped to an intimate murmur, sending a delicious frisson cascading down your spine. "You have no idea how hot it was watching you fight like that."

Your smirk gained a more impish edge as you arched a challenging brow at him. "Oh? I think I might have a clue…" With that flirtatious purr, you seized him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him into a searing kiss, unmindful of their surroundings or the murmuring crowd.

Miles responded ardently, arms banding around your waist to crush your bodies flush together as the kiss deepened with unrestrained want. When you finally parted, both were flushed and slightly breathless from shared desire.

"How's that for a clue, Mr. Morales?" you husked, smiling at the way your words made his pupils flare.

"Chica, you are playing with fire," he growled in response, punctuating the heated promise with another demanding kiss before forcing himself to take a reluctant step back. "But as much as I want to take you home and ravage you senseless in that dress, we've got cleanup to handle first."

You bit your lip with a playful grin, giving him an utterly shameless once-over that made heat flare in his gaze anew. "Mmm, now there's an incentive to behave myself for once. Let's get this over with so you can cash in on that ravaging you promised."

Miles groaned exaggeratedly, pulling you close once more to trail tantalizing kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck and jaw. "You're going to be the death of me, y/n…the absolute death of me…"

The swing back to your apartment seemed to take forever, the heated tension between you and Miles practically crackling in the night air. His arm was banded securely around your waist as you clung to him, the thrill of the gala confrontation still humming in your veins.

By the time he landed deftly on your fire escape, you were practically vibrating with a heady mixture of residual adrenaline and arousal. The moment your feet touched down, you turned and seized him by the lapels of his jacket, backing him up against the railing as you crushed your mouth to his hungrily.

Miles met your passion with equal fervor, fingers tangling in your hair to angle your head for deeper exploration. You moaned softly into the liplock, pressing your lithe body flush against the hard planes of his as the kiss turned molten.

"Inside…" he rasped out when you briefly parted for air, dark eyes heavy-lidded with lust. "Need you…now…"

You offered no argument, simply grasped his wrist and tugged him insistently towards the window you'd left unlocked. Miles followed without hesitation, his free hand roving over your curves in a way that made you shiver with keen anticipation.

The two of you tumbled through the window in a heated embrace, all tangled limbs and roaming caresses as Miles kicked it shut behind you. You backed him up against the nearest wall, devouring his lips again in a messy, needful kiss.

"The way you…fought tonight…" he groaned against your mouth when you trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the stubbled hinge of his jaw. "So fucking fierce, mami…so strong…"

A low, throaty chuckle rumbled from you at the reverent praise, your nimble fingers already working at loosening his emerald tie. "You know what they say - fury is an aphrodisiac."

Miles hissed sharply as you nipped at the sensitive hollow beneath his ear, his hands flexing against the flare of your hips almost desperately. "Whatever rage was fueling it, it made you the sexiest goddamn thing I've ever seen. I could barely keep my hands off you back there."

"Then don't," you murmured, voice dropping into a sultry register that never failed to make his pupils blow wide with want.

That was all the encouragement Miles needed. With a low, rumbling groan, he hauled you up, your legs automatically banding around his waist as he pinned you to the wall. His mouth found that sensitive spot on your neck, worrying the sensitive flesh there with lips and teeth until you whimpered.

"Miles…yes…oh fuck, just like that, baby…"

You reveled in the exquisite friction of his clothed arousal grinding against your heated core as your hips undulated in a filthy grind. Everywhere his hands roved left trails of delicious fire in their wake - over the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of heated exploration, you reached between your bodies to fumble with the button of his trousers. Miles sucked in a sharp breath at your featherlight ministrations, dipping his head to capture your lips in another searing liplock.

"I need you…" he rasped harshly when you broke apart, forehead pressed to yours as you slowly, torturously dragged his zipper down.

Rather than reply with words, you simply flashed him a wicked smirk and arched invitingly against him in silent acquiescence. That was all the cue Miles needed to divest both of you of your remaining clothes in a flurry of heated impatience.

Finally, blissfully skin-to-skin, he hoisted you up once more, your legs locking around his waist as he sank into your welcoming heat with a guttural groan of relief. You matched his desperate noises with whimpers of your own, reveling in the scorching stretch of him filling you so completely.

"Oh god…yes…fuck me, Miles…" you keened, throwing your head back against the wall with abandon. "Fuck me like you mean it…"

He needed no further urging, hips snapping in a deep, pounding cadence that quickly reduced you to a quivering, whimpering mess. There was no slow build, no teasing exploration - this was pure, unrestrained passion unleashed in its most primal form.

"Look at me…" Miles commanded in a low rasp, his thrusts punishingly deep and relentless. When you forced your eyes open to meet his smoldering gaze, he groaned deep in his chest. "That's it, ma…let me see those pretty eyes when I make you fall apart…"

A tremulous whine escaped your parted lips at his heated words, your fingers scrabbling at the tense muscles of his back in search of purchase. The sensations built higher and higher, the wet sounds of your joining obscenely loud in the quiet room.

"I'm…Miles, I'm gonna--" was all the warning you could gasp out before your climax detonated violently. You shuddered and arched with a broken cry, inner walls fluttering maddeningly around his rigid length as wave after wave of delirious pleasure crested over you.

Miraculously, impossibly, Miles only seemed to find his rhythm more relentless in the wake of your release. He pounded into your twitching, overstimulated form with reckless abandon, lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses wherever he could reach.

"Not…done…with you yet…" he growled against the sweat-slicked hollow of your throat, grazing his teeth in a way that made you whimper deliriously. "Not…by a longshot…want you…screaming…"

True to his word, Miles's thrusts began finding that perfect angle deep inside you, nudging against that sensitive bundle of nerves again and again until a new crest started building once more. Your hands fisted in his hair, your nails scored lines of delicious heat down his back, but still he drove into you with unrelenting purpose.

"Oh god…oh fuck…yes, Miles! Right there, baby…gonna…come again!" you wailed out, so completely undone and far beyond caring how loud you were being.

He snarled out his own guttural noises of pleasure at your admission, hips snapping even more wildly now with impatience to make good on his promise. You could feel the trembling tension mounting in his corded frame, muscles knotted with exquisite strain as he held back for you.

When your second, even more intense orgasm finally peaked with a sobbing cry, your inner walls convulsing in rhythmic pulses around him, Miles let out a savage growl of gratification. His own climax barreled through him in hot spurts, his full-body shudder pressing your molten flesh together so tightly not even a whisper of air separated you for several deliriously long moments.

Gradually, as the tremors subsided and hot breaths puffed against overheated skin, your boneless frames slid to a tangled rest on the nearby bed, Miles still buried inside your fluttering depths. You lay there in sybaritic repletion, tracing idle patterns across each other's sweat-slicked flesh as your hammering heartbeats calmed.

"Christ…" you finally wheezed out, a deeply satisfied purr vibrating in your words. "I'm going to feel that in the morning."

You could feel more than hear Miles's rich chuckle against your neck, his lips brushing featherlight kisses in its wake. "Mmm…good. That was the idea, amor."

With seemingly bone-deep reluctance, he slipped free of your interlocked bodies, immediately hauling you close again as you both reveled in the tactile intimacy. Soothing caresses and murmured endearments passed between you in the afterglow, both drunk on the heady cocktail of desire, satisfaction, and indelible connection.

Miles was the one to finally rouse himself enough to reach for the discarded edge of bedsheet and tenderly dab at the glistening sheen of exertion on your skin. "You okay?" he rumbled in that low, husky register that still managed to make your toes curl.

You caught his wrist, pulling him down to nuzzle your nose against his affectionately. "I'm perfect, Miles…never better. As long as I've got you, I'll always be okay."

His features softened in a way that made your heart pang, warm adoration shining through as he ducked his head to capture your lips in a achingly tender kiss. "You've got me, mami - now and always."

Ⓡ chion3spid3r all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

[whiskersz]

Huskerdust - First time Headcanons

Hi guys!! I'm gifting you a little something, this is dedicated to everyone who likes Huskerdust; I hope you enjoy, and warning for NSFW obviously!

If you're a minor please don't interact with this! Thank you!

Angel is a sex worker, and a famous one at that, so of course he takes it for granted that his and Husk’s first time is going to go flawlessly; at the beginning of their relationship he’s actually always jokingly pushing his lover to do something together, until the latter states that he prefers taking things slowly and that just because they’re together now it doesn’t mean that everything needs to be about sex.

He’s slightly taken aback by the other’s authority, dismissing it with a dirty joke about how Husk would be dominant at first but keeping the conversation in mind later. Deep inside he doesn’t believe that Husk would want him only for his personality, and that he truly has no ulterior motives, but the cat demon already proves him wrong by carrying out acts of kindness towards him many times without asking for anything in return.

Still, when the time comes for them to be intimate, Angel is surprised to feel a little nervous; what if after this Husk’s whole attitude changes, and he wants more, and more and more, until what Angel can give him isn’t enough anymore? What if he turns out to be like Valentino – no, he shouldn’t be thinking about him now, Husk reminds him when he notices Angel zoning out before having even started; it’s only them, he holds his hand and asks him if he’s truly ready, even though Angel has hinted that he is many times in the past. Though Husk knows that that wasn’t 100% his true self, so it’s important to him to ask still.

Angel apologises and promises that he’s willing to do this, he’s been waiting for a long time now and so has Husk, the latter just needed a bit more time to get comfortable.

Of course the spider demon is knowledgeable about any sexual act, foreplay included, but he finds himself breathless at how good Husk is at this, at how softly he holds his hand as he leaves a trail of kisses along his body, starting from the side of his lips and ending right above his most private zones, all while his tail wrapped around one of his legs. He’s teasing him but at the same time loving him, gazing at him from time to time and smirking at the soft blush present on his cheeks; Angel, usually brash and loud, finds himself quietly moaning as Husk finally kisses him with a passion he thought everyone had long forgotten in Hell, all the while massaging his thigh.

Their love is slow, intense; Husk has sent him almost over the edge so many times that at this point Angel is practically begging for release, panting softly as his lover, whilst still inside of him, nibbles on his neck; he knows not to leave any actual mark though, as Valentino would be unhappy with it, but with those sharp teeth of his he makes every little bite still meaningful.

As Angel lies in his bed after the act, surrounded by their previously forgotten clothes and fuzzy blankets, he tiredly watches as Husk gets up before him and tidies up everything; he then walks to Angel’s private bathroom and the spider demon curiously listen for any noise that could indicate what he’s doing in there. Once he hears the sound of the faucet of his bathtub it suddenly hits him; Husk wants to take further care of him. He’s not leaving immediately, and he’s not prioritizing himself either, he’s choosing and wanting to show Angel kindness again by performing aftercare.

It’s a bit awkward, sitting in the bathtub together, as Angel’s taller than Husk and yet the bartender insists on letting his boyfriend sit in his lap as he gently washes his body, massages his shoulders, scratches his head with just the tip of his claws while washing his fluffy hair.

They chose this particular day to do this on purpose, as the following day is a free one for both of them; this way, they can take all the time in the world to cuddle once they’re both clean, limbs intertwined and Angel’s giggles filling the room as he listens to Husk softly purr in his chest.

[gluion]

familiarity (it’s all sticky) ➵ kim sunwoo

peter parker!kim sunwoo x spiderman!reader

you're not sure why you decide to show up at your ex's place all wounded up from tonight's battle.

genre/warnings ➵ exes (to sort of lovers?), angst, touch of fluff, afab reader (no-gendered terms), hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), discussions of wounds and depictions of blood, lowercase intended, ghost-spider au (though please don't expect it to be accurate!), reader is obviously spiderman while sunwoo is peter parker i mean HELLO?? i am right, sunwoo is such a slob here, reader's hair is long enough to be tucked behind their ear, i also based everything on google when it comes to patching up wounds omg please don't follow me at all, kissing fingertips, mentions of non-sexual stripping and showering (let him take care of you)

word count ➵ 4k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu

playlist ➵ nonviolent communication by metro boomin, james blake, a$ap rocky, & 21 savage // hummingbird by metro boomin & james blake

a/n ➵ i've had this idea for the longest time in my drafts. i'm pretty sure it came to me as i was writing of linked arms and bruised hearts, but i'm glad i took some time to sit down (even in my busy and hell midterms season) to write it :') thank you to my lovely cat @wuahae for beta reading <3 this work is only a fraction of what our friendship truly is, and proof of the care we have for each other. i love you! i also thought it would be in theme to get songs from across the spiderverse ost for the playlist </3 please don't forget to reblog (even if it's in your tbr!)

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new york city never falls silent. the bustle of every new yorker can be heard through their footsteps,  the wheels that glide against the train tracks along with the beeps of taxis sound throughout the city. the metropolis stays alive in every street, every alleyway, every corner. no matter what hour it may be, each pavement is wide awake.

but the lights seem hazy tonight; the luminescence pours out of every building, the led boards are only blurs of silhouettes and illegible words. normally, you would warn against going out if someone could barely make sense of what these signs say, but you never seem to follow your own advice.

as you swing through the city, web clinging onto every building, blood continues to seep through the white spandex that covers you from head to toe. your body feels heavy, the pain in your lower abdomen continuing to spike with every movement—every swing—you make.

you bite on your lip, holding back the whimpers. your eyes dart through every street sign you pass. with every swing, you realize you’re nowhere close to where you should be. instead… 

you don’t allow yourself to think it over. maybe the loss of blood has you moving out of impulse, but for now, you can only think of getting rid of the pain.

you swing around the corner before landing down at the familiar fire escape, paint-chipped and rusted just like you remember. a hiss leaves your mouth as your hand reaches out to the spot where the blood continues to seep through, holding it down to keep pressure on the wound.

you’re face-to-face with the window; the reflection of you all suited up in some persona is a sight you’re accustomed to—but not on the glass of his window. you’re not sure why you came back here, injured in an identity he only knew of through word of mouth.

but the throbbing in your abdomen doesn’t give you enough time to think more about it. pushing the window up, you throw one leg over the edge into the apartment. your eyes quickly scan through the familiar space—a room you once treated as yours.

pillows scattered and bedsheets wrinkled, the walls are littered with the same posters of anime he swears to be the best of all time (though you’d always disagreed), along with his desk, littered with trinkets you haven’t seen since the day you left him—ones that he talked about to you back then with so much joy.

as you attempt to get your other leg over the edge of the window, you yelp at the sharp pain that strikes. “fuck,” you whimper, gasping out a breath. another groan rips out from your throat as you force your leg over, head resting on the frame with closed eyes, bracing yourself through the wave of pain that follows.

as pants continue to leave your mouth, your senses tingle as your ears catch the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. you attempt to stand up only for another groan to leave your lips, and you realize it’s too late—the door creaks open, revealing the man you haven’t been face-to-face with since you said your farewell months ago.

dressed in an oversized white tee and a pair of black shorts, sunwoo stands with a bag of chips in his hand and disheveled hair, eyes wide and gaping. you can only assume he was fresh from bed.  

“s-spiderman?!” he looks around, noticing the mess that you’re being exposed to. before you can register it, he rushes in, dropping the bag of chips somewhere near the doorway, and tries to tidy his bed. “w-what are you doing here? i think you might’ve entered the wrong room,” he stutters as he attempts to fix his pillows and bedsheets (poorly, if you may say). 

somehow, the sight of sunwoo all frazzled makes you smile behind your mask. the idea of your—no, you mean, this guy all worried about you seeing how untidy he lives makes you chuckle.

but as you laugh, pain shoots through your lower abdomen once more. you cough out before hissing, pressing onto the wound. it takes everything in you to keep your body upright until you feel a pair of hands rest on your shoulders. you look up only to be met with his worried expression.

and you spot the way his eyes trail down to where your hand rests. you’re thankful that the mask could hide the heat that rises to your cheeks.

“oh god, you need that treated,” sunwoo’s eyes snap back up to you, and your breath hitches. even after all these months, he still holds stars in his eyes.

it’s been a while since you last saw him up close. the bags on his under eyes have turned a few shades darker, and you notice an eyelash that rests on his cheek. you don’t think about what you do next, your free hand reaching out to his face, and his breath hitches. once you pick it out, you flick the strand off of your fingers, and that’s when you realize the mistake you committed.

“s-sorry,” you choke out. although you try to keep your voice as low and gruntled as possible, he frowns. he bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicker between your masked face and the wound.

“i-i don’t know how to help. i can call for an ambulan—”

you grab onto his arm before he can leave. as you shake your head, he gulps. “i can’t really help you,” he says, but your grip doesn’t falter. with that, he lets out a sigh before kneeling in front of you. his hands find themselves on the ledge, his arms now caging your frail figure. “do you have someone in mind who can help you?”

sunwoo’s question is innocent. you’re sure the last thing he meant was to mock your situation—showing up in a “stranger’s” room unannounced—but it strikes a chord in you.

you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up a few months back. when you’re outside of your suit, you avoid him like the plague. in the hallways of campus, you take any possible route to not cross his. but when you’re covered in your second skin, you find yourself on top of buildings watching him from far away. with the distance, you allow yourself to learn about what he’s been up to since you two last spoke. 

so you don’t know why you sit in front of him all injured and dressed up in white, black, and pink spandex, because you haven’t spoken to him since that day. shame bubbles within you all while reality slowly slips from your fingertips. and the way your body gets heavier with every second that passes has him mumbling profanities.

his hands hold onto you as he makes you lean your weight on the frame of the window. “wait,” he says as he stands up and walks into his bathroom. before you know it, he comes out with a box.

sunwoo finds his spot back in front of you and he opens what he retrieved. as he looks through the supplies of bandages, alcohol, gauze, and more, he says as his eyes flicker up towards you, “i don’t know how much this will help but it’ll do for now.”

and you should be thankful that someone is willing to bandage you up after the rough night you’ve had, but it feels like a lie to have sunwoo be the one to do it, especially when you haven’t told him the truth.

so when he grabs onto the supplies he needs to treat your wound, your free hand reaches for the underside of your mask. his eyes follow where it rests, and he freezes in his tracks. your fingertips curl on the fabric as you take a deep breath.

“you don’t—”

you shake your head, cutting him off, and you close your eyes before pulling off the mask.

you’re afraid to look at the boy kneeling in front of you, for you can only imagine the annoyance—the disgust—that will paint his features. it’s not like you had a choice to show up at his fire escape this one night, but it was your choice to reveal who spiderman really is behind the mask.

a beat passes.

you’re not sure what to do at this moment. what are you supposed to do after a vigilante reveals who they are?

but when you open your eyes, sunwoo looks back at you with an emotion you can’t pinpoint. he averts his eyes, trailing down to your wound. “let me see it,” he whispers.

you gulp, an attempt to clear your throat and thoughts, before letting your hand move away from the puncture. your hand grips the hem of the top of your suit, peeling it upwards to reveal a bloody wound. from the sight, it looks like you were stabbed, but it’s only a deep cut.

he pulls out a piece of cloth, reaching out and pressing it to your wound. you yelp, eyes squeezing shut at the contact.  “i’m sorry, but we need to stop the bleeding a bit more.” it takes everything in you to open your eyes. you’re met with the sight of sunwoo whose face holds a thousand emotions—you can’t identify any of them.

“can you keep pressure on it?” you only nod before you remove your gloves, afraid to touch the wound with fabric covered in grime. you dump your mask and gloves on the space beside you before letting your hand reach to where the cloth is held against. your hand brushes against his for a split second—you retract your hand immediately at the contact with his skin.

at the sudden motion, the cloth against your stomach drops with nothing left to hold it. sunwoo curses in a panic, hand shooting out in an attempt to save it, but you react faster. snatching it mid-fall, you grasp it tightly, placing the cloth back onto your wound. his eyes dart between where your hand rests and your face, a twinge of worry cast on his features, but he doesn’t give you an opportunity to say anything as he stands up quickly and walks back to his bathroom.

you hear the water run for a moment. the noises of the street fill your ears. the lights from outside cascade the floor, hues of yellow and purple filling the room. and then thunder rumbles; it shakes the floorboards. the sounds of raindrops follow, and you feel your back start to get wet from the storm that has entered new york city.

you try to push yourself off the ledge, a groan ripping out of your throat once more. and you’re finally on your feet. but at any moment, it feels like you may collapse.

“wait, wait! what are you doing?” sunwoo exclaims as he rushes out of the bathroom. he quickly grabs hold of you in an attempt to keep you steady. “don’t stand up or that wound might get worse.”

“i-it’s just the rain. i don’t want to leave the window open.” as you turn your torso, another spike strikes where your wound is. the yelp that leaves your mouth has sunwoo grip onto your arm tighter.

“no, just sit. i’ll take care of it,” he says as he brings you to his chair, his hand never leaves your arm. you let out a hiss until your bottom meets the cushion. as soon as your back rests on the chair, you close your eyes for a moment from the pain.

his hand leaves you. you hear the window shut; the car horns and barks from stray animals are now muffled.

when your eyes flutter open, sunwoo crouches in front of you with a wet towel in his hand. “i need to clean it.” you only nod before removing the cloth on your wound. he grabs it from you and places it on his lap.

as he raises the wet towel to your wound, you flinch at the contact. he quickly retracts it and asks, “does it hurt?”

“no, it’s just cold,” you mumble back. he only nods before attempting to clean the area around your wound. while he keeps his eyes on the puncture, your eyes remain on his face; hues of yellow cast upon him.

his skin glows under the city lights—did anyone know about the stars you once carved on it?

“is this why we broke up?” his eyes snap toward yours as he asks that question.

you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “y-yeah,” you choke out.

he hums before his eyes go back down to your injury. “i’m guessing this is why you were distant then, right?”

you don’t bother to speak, letting the silence speak for itself.

he removes the wet towel; the white cloth is covered in patches of red. as he crumples it into a ball, you spot that his white shirt holds splotches of blood as well.

sunwoo stands up to drop the pieces of fabric on the table behind you. “your dad obviously doesn’t know,” he mutters to himself.

it’s a rhetorical question. of course, your father has no clue of your late-night rendezvous. you’re sure he could never look at you the same if he found out because to him, he would never understand what you do. he would see you only as a low-life criminal in the same way the nypd does. 

sunwoo then dabs a cotton ball soaked in betadine on your abdomen. you bite on your lip as a hiss leaves your mouth. “fuck,” you curse, and he only continues to clean up your wound.

silence takes over you two. as he bandages you up, you allow yourself to close your eyes. you were thankful to find rest in these small moments. but you don’t miss the warmth of his fingertips on your skin; they feel just like last time.

“why did you come here?” his question has your eyes snapping open, and you are met with a frown resting on his face.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “i-i don’t know.” it’s a lie—one you both know. you had every chance to change the route you were taking. instead, you chose to go to his place—even if it may be on the other side of where you live.

he lets out a sigh. it’s clear that he’s disappointed by your words, but all he says is “okay,” as he gets up. “you can stay here for the night.” he stands in front of you in a shirt covered in patches of blood—it’s proof that his heart still holds a spot for you.

despite the venom that was laced in your words the night you cut ties with him, he leaves you a space for you to fill. it’s another choice you can make, but one you’re not sure if you should take.

sunwoo walks to the desk behind you and flips the lamp on. you swivel the chair so that you’re face-to-face with his slouched figure. you would’ve scolded him, but you’re not in the place to do so—not after what you two had.

but a part of you wishes to chide those words—hey, keep slouching and your back will get worse—for old time’s sake. it takes everything in you to hold back from saying the reminder, but it takes nothing to let your hand grip the back of his shirt. his movements halt.

as you sit up, you let your face bury into the arch of his back. the scent of his laundry detergent (it’s still the same smell of lavender) fills your nose, and you let your hands trail around his torso until they find their home on his waist. even after all these months, your hands knew where to rest—your spidey senses knew who to go to.

you feel his hands rest on your arms, his thumb drawing circles on your forearm. you breathe at the same pace as him. whenever his shoulders move up, yours follow. and you allow yourself to cherish just this once the familiar warmth of sunwoo. you let your soul mesh with his once more.

with closed eyes, you whisper, “i still look for you.” his thumb stops moving, and a shaky breath leaves your mouth. “i’m here because all i know is you.”

it’s half of a lie, but still a lie nevertheless. you shake your head against his shirt. “no,” you rescind. “i know i shouldn’t be here, and i had every chance to go back home, but,” you take a deep breath. “would you let me, just this once, be honest with you?”

your question hangs in the air—it’s not for him but for you. all the choices you took led to this moment, from embracing the persona you were handed through a single spider bite all the way to removing the mask in front of him.

sunwoo spins to face you. he stands in front of you with the remnants of you covering him, his shirt coated in hues of red and your blood dried up on his hands. the light behind him causes a shadow to paint his face.

but when he kneels once more in front of you, you get a good look at his features. he still looks like the same boy you first met—the same one you fell in love with—but you wonder if he was still the one you knew?

that is until his hand reaches toward your face. you hold your breath as it finds its spot on your cheek. but as his thumb grazes your cheekbone, a trembling breath leaves you. you gulp everything down—your fears and anxieties—so that you can finally be honest with sunwoo.

“i wanted to tell you who i really am.” a flicker of confusion flashes through his eyes. “and i know i’m not doing it in the best state,” a chuckle leaves your mouth. “but with every day that passes, and every injury i need to endure, i didn’t know when i would be able to tell you what went wrong with us.” a beat passes. “what went wrong with me.”

he shakes his head. “nothing’s wrong with you. what are you talking about?” a frown takes over his face. “i mean, you’re spiderman, for god’s sake.” you weren’t able to hold back the giggle that slipped from your lips.

but it wouldn’t be fair to just accept his words as is, not after the damage you’ve caused.

you let a hand rest on his, the one that rests on your cheek, and you curl your fingers so that you hold it. “i’m sorry that this is me.” the whisper is loud enough to fill the silence of his room. “i’m sorry that i crashed here all injured and left you to deal with the mess,” your eyes flicker to his bed. “especially on a night when you were resting.”

as soon as your eyes go back to sunwoo, you notice that he’s biting the inside of his cheek. “why are you telling me this?” it’s an honest question, one he couldn’t figure out the answer to. “we haven’t seen each other since you broke up with me.”

and he has every right to be confused with your sudden appearance. after all the months spent avoiding him in the halls while still seeking him on top of buildings, sunwoo was left with no clue as to why you come to him first in such a dire situation. why is it that you chose to reveal such an intimate part of yourself months after you two have drifted?

“do i have to say it?” you ask.

and he looks back into your eyes before saying, “it’s the least you can do.”

so you grab onto his hand, moving it so that it rests in yours. the sight of his fingers and palms covered in splotches of you fills your heart with warmth. it’s proof of the time he spent to patch you up. no matter who you may be—spiderman or not—you will forever be at his mercy.

“we can’t be together. it will only be another cycle of pain.” for both of you. as your eyes land back on his face, you spot sorrow coating his features.

“but i still do.” it’s an unfinished thought on his end. despite the frown you show, all he does is flash you a bitter smile. “i always have and always will.”

and it clicks.

“n-no, sunwoo,” you shake your head. “you can’t.”

he brings your hand close to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “but you do,” he whispers into your fingertips. “right?”

even after revealing who spiderman truly is behind the mask, you expect sunwoo to rethink everything he knows. the months spent away from you should be enough reason to reconsider how much he knows of you now. but even if you two were to spend years apart, he would still read you as well as he does now. 

“i can’t,” you choke out. “i can only offer so much, and you deserve so much more.”

he smiles at you—the same one you used to see every day, no matter what time of the day it may be—as his free hand reaches for your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“i couldn’t care any less.”

you shake your head. it’s clear he doesn’t understand the gravity of it all; to be with you means to remain in constant danger. “no, sunwoo. you don’t understand. i broke up with you because i’m batshit scared of what will happen to you.”

because it seems to always occur—anyone you come close to becomes another target for your enemies. it’s already hard enough to handle the responsibility of being a masked hero, but you don’t think you could handle a possibility where sunwoo’s death would be on your hands.

but all he does is shake his head and says, “i don’t care. i still love you.”

you haven’t heard him say that to you in months. such a simple phrase causes warmth to fill your limbs and heat to rise to your cheeks. he still has the same effect on you after so long.

there are consequences that this conversation bears. you should have stood up and left as soon as he patched you up. it should’ve been obvious that the longer you stayed, the more you would pour out sentiments that you tried to keep under wraps—under the mask—and it seemed that sunwoo knew how to undo them even better than he did then.

and hearing sunwoo say those words has you falling into a perpetual cycle of torment, one that makes every day intolerable for you can only watch him from afar. but aren’t you already living it the more you deny what’s in front of you two?

so you only nod, and bring his hand close so you can feel his fingertips on your lips. with closed eyes, you whisper, “okay.”

it’s a testament to everything—one to his offer to let you sleep in this very room you once treated as yours, one to his confession that tilted your world’s axis, one to the very situation you’re in—and you’re sure he knows it, too.

he smiles as soon as your eyes flutter open. “let’s go to sleep.”

you know that sleep meant to be wrapped in his arms all while he would leave kisses on your temple. you don’t remember the last time you got enough rest, but you remember that the last time you slept in sunwoo’s arms was the last one you were able to fall into slumber at ease.

so you nod, allowing him to help you out of the chair. and he helps you through it all—shedding the suit off of you, cleaning you of all the grime from tonight’s adventure, and getting dressed in fresh clothes—until you two find your place on his bed.

nothing is said for the rest of the night. for once, you drift into slumber without any secrets stashed away.

if you enjoyed reading this, please do reblog!

[cyanoticfireflies]

Huskerdust H/C Fic

It was a truly ridiculous time of the morning – closer to sunrise than to midnight – when the front door to the hotel opened and Angel stumbled in, looking like the exhausted and battered remnants of a very bad night.  He closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, eyes closed and head tipped back as he tried to make the entire world stop spinning around him.  Colors and light were hurting his eyes.  He could hear a constant low-level whine in his ears.  His entire body throbbed like a giant bruise.

He didn’t even know for sure how he had gotten home from the studio.  The last thing he remembered clearly was being blindfolded with all four of his hands encased in chained cuffs.  One of the other actors had pulled his hair too hard and Angel had pulled away.  The guy had hit him – and Angel’s world had gone slanted.

He breathed deeply against the door and accepted that, yeah, he most likely had a minor concussion.  Had the guy actually managed to hit him that hard?  It wasn’t the first time Angel had been roughed up during filming.  Hell, it wasn’t the first time he’d been roughed up during filming that week!

“Hey, Angel?  You okay, there, kid?”

Angel jerked to attention and immediately swayed, vision going foggy.  He could feel himself start to go down before his upper arms went around a pair of shoulders, strong paws grabbing the elbows of his second set of arms and holding him upright.  Angel flinched and instinctively pulled back and he was quickly released, which helped bring him back into the moment.  He wouldn’t have been released anywhere but the Hazbin Hotel.

He slowly opened his eyes and his vision focused enough to recognize Husk standing in front of him, looking up at him with concern written across his face.

“Why ‘r ya up so late?” Angel asked, slurring his words as his tongue didn’t want to cooperate.

Husk reached out and touched Angel’s elbow again, and now that Angel knew who was the one with paws on him he let Husk guide him away from the door.

The cat had a bit of a blush around the muzzle as he admitted, “I waited up for you.  I wasn’t counting on you getting back this late, though.”  Husk paused and then said, “You look like a mess.”

“I think I have a concussion,” Angel told him.  “I don’t remember too much after gettin’ hit….”

Husk swore and grabbed him again now that Angel wasn’t jerking away from his touch.  “All right, baby, come here.”  He pulled at the spider and Angel let him.  He trusted Husk.  Husk wouldn’t hurt him.  Husk would take him somewhere safe.

He blacked out a bit as the cat demon tugged him and then realized that he was laid out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with his long legs dangling off the side.  “Um.”

“Here, can I touch your legs?”

“Yeah, s’fine,” Angel told him.  Husk carefully grabbed at Angel’s shins and moved his legs up to lay on the couch.  Angel would normally have made some kind of joke.  He knew that his legs were his best feature (as long as no one got a glimpse of his feet).  But even through the fog he remembered that Husk didn’t like when Angel threw passes at him.  And honestly he was in no shape to do anything if the cat did take him up on it.

Husk moved up closer to him and said, “Eyes on me for a second, Angel.”

He blinked slowly and tipped his head toward Husk.  “Huh?”

“Yeah, your pupils don’t look right,” Husk said, sighing.  “All right, kid.  We’ll take care of you.”

Angel snorted quietly and said, “I’ve done scripts that started a little bit like that before.”  He paused and added, “Not for a long time, though.  Val doesn’t take care of me anymore.”

“I know, baby.”  Husk shook his head.  “Close your eyes so the light doesn’t bother them.  And don’t try to move.  I’m getting some stuff to help.”

Angel had zero desire to move ever again, honestly.  Every time he did, it set the world to spinning and that was highly unpleasant.  He lay there on the couch, feeling like he was floating in the air but in a bad way.  He couldn’t feel anything solid underneath him, even though he knew logically that there was.

He didn’t know how long he’d been left to lay there, but eventually he felt his eyes start to tear up.  He didn’t want to be alone when he felt like this.  Which was so strange to him; Angel had always retreated and licked his wounds alone, hiding his weakness behind a grin and an inuendo.

“Hey, no, don’t do that, baby,” Husk scolded as he returned.  “If you start crying, it’s just going to make you feel worse.”

“But it hurts,” Angel sobbed.  He reached out with his second left hand, groping blindly in the air, until he felt the bend of a wing get pushed into his palm.  He curled his fingers around the shape, being careful not to yank the feathers since he remembered when Niffty had accidentally (and, yes, it did genuinely seem to be an accident) yanked a few out and Husk had complained about it stinging.

“What hurts?” Husk asked him.

“Everything.”

“All right, kid.  Can you motion to where on your head you got hit?”

Angel took a long breath, trying to calm down so he would be able to obey Husk’s gentle urging.  He sniffled sadly and raised a hand, making a vague circle around where he recalled the jerk’s fist connecting.  Husk gently moved his hand away then Angel felt the cat move and something soft and cold press against his head.

“Ouch,” he whined.

“I know, baby,” Husk soothed.  “But we’ve got to ice it to make sure there’s no swelling.”

“Okay.”  Angel lightly squeezed Husk’s wing, still careful.  Husk treated him real good, and Angel didn’t want to hurt him, even if it was on accident.

He laid there with his eyes closed, feeling the coldness of the ice pack seep into the skin and soothe away some of the burning ache where the jerk’s fist had made contact.  Husk continued to make low shushing sounds as Angel fussed, and Angel listened to his low voice, felt that familiar comforting presence.

But as the pain in his head receded just a bit, Angel slowly became aware of everything else on his body that was just not right.

“Husky?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“My stomach is really not happy.”

“All right, one hand up to hold your ice pack.”

Angel raised one of his upper arms slowly, taking over holding it.  Then he felt Husk slide a hand behind his shoulders and slowly ease him off of the couch cushions.  The world lurched again but no where near as violently as it had before.  Angel kept his eyes closed to combat the dizziness until he was sat up a bit, his upper body shifted to lean against Husk.

“Here.”

Angel cracked one eye open and saw that Husk had put one of the cleaning buckets under him so that if he threw up it wouldn’t make a mess.  Angel really really didn’t want to be sick, but he appreciated that Husk was prepared for it.

“I’m not sure if I’ll puke or not,” Angel admitted.

“That’s fine, legs.  You can sit for a moment to see what your stomach does.”

Angel nodded and leaned even more against Husk, letting the grumpy old cat hold him up.  He could feel the places they were pressed together – his upper shoulder against Husk’s chest, his head leaning in the crook of Husk’s neck.  There were spots where the fur on Angel’s upper and lower right arms rubbed against the bare fur of Husk’s torso around the straps of his suspenders.  The fur rubbing sent tingles racing from those points of contact, raising goosebumps on Angel’s skin in a good way and tickling him just a little.

“Think I’m okay,” Angel managed after a moment when he decided that his stomach had temporarily stopped its revolt.

Husk shifted and then Angel felt the bar-cat gently pushing the fluff of hair out of his face, stroking it back.  “All right.  Can you have some medicine and water while you’re sitting up?”

“I think so.”

Husk shifted a bit and Angel moved with him, not willing to sit up on his own.  He could hear the high-pitched rattle of the medicine bottle and winced as that noise pierced through his aching head, but he moved his lower arm and focused on the way Husk’s fur pulled at his own (one of these days he would get the grumpy gambler to use fur conditioner, Angel swore it.)

“Here, baby.”

“I don’t wanna open my eyes again,” Angel whined.

“Then hold your hand out and I can give it to you.”

Angel moved a little but then decided that he didn’t want to do that either.  He opened his mouth, extending his tongue just a bit, wanting Husk to put it in his mouth instead of in his hand.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Husk grumbled.

Angel hummed sweetly and said, “I don’t feel well.  Be nice.”

Husk huffed and Angel waited several seconds to see what he would do.  He was about to give up – he wanted to tease Husk a little but wasn’t in the mood for anything drawn out – when Angel felt a light pressure on his tongue.

“I spoil you,” Husk told him.

Angel made a soft happy noise and pulled his tongue back, feeling the pain pill Husk had given him.

“You have to help with the water, though.”

He agreeably raised his lower left arm and fumbled through the air until he felt the cool surface of the glass under his fingers.  Husk helped him raise it up and Angel took a long gulp of water, washing down the medicine and some of the lingering nausea eeking up the back of his throat.

“Thanks, kitty,” he said when he finally let the glass go.

“Happy to help, brat.”  Husk took the glass away from him then shifted Angel’s weight and had him pull the ice pack away.  “You’ve got a little egg, but you should be okay.  Any other injuries we need to worry about?”

Angel slowly took a mental inventory of himself.  “I hurt a lot of other places, but nothing that won’t heal up.”

“All right, baby.  Come on – let’s get you into bed.  Concussions need to make sure they get enough sleep.”

“Mmhmm,” Angel muttered.  He moved to try to get up but then groaned as the world shifted.  “Nope.  I’m sleeping here.”

Husk heaved out a deep sigh and then Angel felt Husk’s arm settle more heavily around his shoulders.  Then he squeaked when he felt Husk’s other arm nudging against his knees.

“Husk?”

“Don’t squirm or I’ll drop you and you’ll end up in worse shape.”

Angel smiled and pressed his face further into Husk’s neck as he was picked up from the couch.  Husk was actually really strong.  Angel had seen him hauling bins of dirty bar glasses and cases of liquor without much struggle.  Angel was probably a bit more awkward to carry considering how lanky he was, but he curled himself up as best he could to make it easier for Husk to wrap his arms around him and carry him.

Angel could feel the way his body shifted as Husk carried him across the lobby and then up the stairs.  He didn’t say anything, just kept his pleased smile pressed against Husk’s neck.  He could feel when they stopped and reached out with his lower left hand, fumbling until he felt the doorknob he assumed was his own and twisting it to open the door.

He heard the soft snuffling and quiet squeals of Fat Nuggets as someone else came into Angel’s bedroom carrying the loyal pig’s master.  Angel managed to turn his head and opened his eyes then extended a lower arm, giving the pig a few pats on the head.

“It’s all right, Nuggsy,” Angel cooed.  “We know Husk.  He’s our friend, right?”

“Careful so I don’t drop you on him or accidentally kick him,” Husk warned.  Angel pulled his arm up and felt the way Husk moved more slowly, easing his steps forward so that he didn’t end up with a porcine pet underfoot.

Angel peeked and saw as they approached his bed then felt the careful way Husk lowered his weight to lay him down.

“You okay to sleep in your makeup tonight?” Husk asked him.

“Uh-huh.”  It would be a pain to have to deal with it in the morning – as well as whatever else was surely caked into his fur – but Angel knew there was no way he was going to be able to do anything but quickly fall asleep now that he was on familiar sheets and pillows.

Husk reached a paw out and gently stroked Angel’s hair back, expression a bit soft as the two of them looked at each other.  “You’ll be all right,” Husk told him.  Angel didn’t know if Husk meant from only the blow to the head or in general, but he wanted to believe the older demon’s words.  It might take a long time for Angel to be truly all right, but he was trying.

Husk moved to lean down and scooped up Fat Nuggets, depositing him on the sheets.  The pig immediately scrambled up the sheets to give Angel some piggy kisses, his little tongue on the fur at Angel’s cheeks.  Angel smiled and raised a hand to curl around his beloved pet.

“I’ll let you get some sleep, kid,” Husk said.

But Angel didn’t want him to go.  He wanted Husk to stay and help him feel safe and cared for and like someone that mattered.  He reached out a lower hand and snagged onto Husk’s wrist before the cat could leave.

“Stay,” he whispered quickly, gently tugging on Husk.  “Don’t go.”

Husk sighed.  “Angel….”

“I don’ mean like that.  I just don’t wanna be alone right now,” Angel admitted.

For several long seconds Husk didn’t say anything.  Angel, feeling the sting of being rejected hurt far worse, actually, than his various injuries, released Husk’s wrist and turned onto his side, curling himself around Fat Nuggets. 

He should have known better, Angel thought to himself.  He had been trying to be so good with Husk, trying to behave himself, but Angel was a mess on his best days and would inevitably screw it up again.

He heard shuffling and figured Husk was leaving.  Angel would be all right, or at least so he told himself.  He would wrap himself around Fat Nuggets and cry a bit even though Husk had told him not to and pretend he was fine in the morning.  He was really, really good at pretending he was fine in the morning…

But then the bed shifted and Angel felt Husk sidle up against him, moving awkwardly across the sheets until he was spooned around Angel’s larger form.  “You have more elbows than I’m used to working around, so if you elbow me in the ribs or kick me with those long legs I’m taking it out of your fur.”

“The fur is sacred,” Angel said after a minute of trying to find his voice.  He hadn’t expected this.  He’d thought Husk might pull a chair over or sleep on the floor, either stretched out or half-leaning on the side of the bed.  But this was so much more than he’d dared to hope for.  This was warmth and comfort and care and connection and a dozen other things that Angel had forgotten existed.

Short but strong arms wrapped around him and Angel wiggled back, fitting them together as best he could.  It wasn’t a perfect fit with how much taller Angel was than Husk, but it felt perfect to him.  That kitty nose pressed to the back of his neck.  The way Husk’s breath rustled his fur.  The press of knees into the backs of his thighs.

He sighed and relaxed, pulling Fat Nuggets close to his own chest.  He really, really wanted to sleep, and now he definitely felt like he could.  “Night, Husk.  And thank you.”

“Anything for you, baby.”

[tender-rosiey]

Hello. How are you?

I was wondering I can have a cute headcannon of Gojo and Nanami of their s/o randomly bring them cup of coffee and giving a small kiss and just walk away?

Just something cute and wholesome.

“KISS AND SASHAY AWAY”

— when you bring nanami and gojo coffee and a kiss

GOJO SATORU:

“sensei! what if I swallow a fly? will I have to eat a spider so I can get rid of the fly?”

gojo snaps his fingers, “amazing question, yuji!” he smiles, “and the answer is yes!”

nobara raised her hand, “what about the spider?”

their teacher replied with a grin, “you will swallow a bird!”

megumi takes a deep breath, and covers his face in agony.

the duo and their teacher continue laughing and answering more of these absurd questions. however, that didn’t stop gojo from noticing immediately when you entered the classroom.

“y/n! wifey! hi!” he exclaims and runs to you.

“SATORU WAIT I HAVE COFFEE!”

the sorcerer manages to stop before bumping into you and creating a mess that yaga wouldn’t exactly accept.

you put down the cup of coffee and give him a hug, “missed you.”

“missed you more,” he whispers and tightens his grip on you and buries his face in your hair. his gaze shifts to the coffee on his table, “is that for me?”

you deadpan, “no, it’s for sukuna.”

said curse cackles and bursts out laughing at that.

“y/nnnn!” your husband whines and you just press a kiss to both of his cheeks.

you turn around, “okay big guy; you have a class to teach.”

“bye y/n-san!” the trio says and gojo is just pouting and hiding his face in his collar. he looks at the coffee, soon taking it to his hand and tasting it.

a soft smile graced his lips, you always how he would like everything. he keeps in mind to thank you later and get you a crap ton of gifts.

even if you will scold him for it.

NANAMI KENTO:

nanami took a deep breath and sighed. things were getting hectic and work seemed to pile non-stop. he just wished for some free time so he can rest and enjoy some time with you.

too caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice you enter until you gently place the cup of coffee on his desk and his gaze shifts to it.

he feels you press a soft kiss on his forehead before heading out the door. by the time he looks up, there is no trace of you except the coffee.

the coffee he picks up and drinks a small sip of it, and a smile makes its way to his face. he puts it down and then got up and calls your name, “y/n?”

“I am in the living room, ken’!”

his feet move before he thinks and he finds himself in front of you. you look up to him with a smile, “are you okay?”

he bends down on one knee and holds your hand. he kisses it before placing it on his chest, “sometimes, words really do fail me.”

“oh?” you smirk, “did gojo do something that incredibly stupid?”

he shakes his softly and simply rests his head on your knee while still holding your hand, “they can never truly describe how much I love you.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @fiona782 @ginneko @kisakitwister @iamjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[randomly--accessed--memories]

60s Mindbreak:

I imagine Velvette would still be capable of extending empathy to people outside her friend group (since she doesn’t have Vox and Val encouraging her to lose her humanity). 

[She does fantasize of killing Niffty and usurping her title as The Fashion Overlord though, but I don’t think this Velvette is hardened enough to kill anyone.]

Niffty forces all her employees to wear exclusively 50s fashion, Velvette despises this! 

Would Velvette try out the Hotel and be a guest alongside Angel Dust? (Unless Val is dead and Angel’s doing Hell knows what.)

The friend group of Velvette, Angel Dust, and Cherri Bomb sounds kinda fun. 

-=-=-=-

Another way to interpret this is as a roleswap:

For whatever reason Alastor doesn’t target Husk, so Husk gets to keep being the Gambling Overlord. 

Since Valentino doesn’t have Vox to keep his temper in check he got into trouble he couldn’t get out of (maybe that’s how his antenna is damaged in this AU). He’s forced to sell his soul to Alastor for survival. 

This Valentino isn’t as terrible a piece of garbage as cannon!Val since Al snatched him up before he could commit his worst actions. 

Valentino is a lot less impulsive than his cannon counterpart (though still impulsive). He’s pretty bitter and somber here. That fire in him was snuffed out. I imagine he would become a chain smoker to cope.   

-/-/-/- 

Maybe without Valentino dragging him down Angel Dust becomes the Overlord of the movie/porn industry (with a mafia flavoring to all of it) instead. Then he could join up with Husk and Niffty to become this AUs equivalent of the Vees. (What would their name be? I’m not sure if you could make a good acronym with A/D, H, & N. Maybe a word relating to their themes? Fashion, gambling, and mafia/movies. Bug, cat, and spider)

-/-/-

I know it would be unlikely, but I think it would be sweet if Velvette, Valentino, and Vox still end up being friends. 

Valentino could act as a sorta mentor to Velvette, like cannon Husk and Angel Dust (minus the romance). 

Him and Vox and kinda friends, he finds him endearing most of the time. (Vox has a giant crush on him, Val is oblivious to it).

Velvette likes showing off modern tech to Vox, who’s in absolute awe of it all! After Velvette and Valentino find out what Alastor did to Vox they become fiercely protective of him (like Vaggie in regular RAM).

Random thoughts

Velvette would probably end up at the hotel, but not of her own free will. In Vel's opinion, redemption isn't possible and she's got a pretty sweet gig as an overlord's personal assistant/favorite model, but when Niffty "asks" her to go spy on what's going on in there, she doesn't have much of a choice.

Velvette still goes by her sinner name, but Niffty always calls her "Vicky/Vicki." It's a manipulation tactic she uses on all of her employees/contractees; using their human names in order to create a sense of intimacy and reinforce the "big, happy family" thing she's going for. Velvette's not a fan.

Niffty probably isn't as fixated on the 50s in this scenario since fashion is all about staying up-to-date. She still enjoys incorporating retro motifs into her designs though. Velvette's stuck with a pair of cat eye glasses that she thinks are tacky as hell (aaaaand now I'm reminded of HellSerVants).

Oof, Val would not be having a good time under Alastor. Husk's smart and levelheaded enough that I don't think Alastor's ever done anything truly gruesome to him, but Val such a defiant, overly sexual loudmouth that I feel like Al probably spent the first decade or so of their contract disciplining him. That's probably how his antenna got fucked up in this scenario and I'm not sure his wings would be long for this world either. He's been with Alastor and Vox for between 20-50 years though, so he's learned how to behave himself by the time of the main story (at least when Alastor's around). But yeah, Val's pretty miserable, although his real personality occasionally manages to shine through (for better and for worse).

I think I prefer the Mafia Overlord Angel to Porn/Sex Work Overlord Angel. Maybe he took over his dad's syndicate after he died (either by Angel's hand or someone else's).

I don't think Niffty, Husk, and Angel would form a formal partnership in the same way as the Vees (I think that's something sort of unique to Vox among other overlords), but maybe they're casual allies/friends here.

Vox and Val have an interesting relationship. Val never knew the "real" Vox since he was broken before Val even arrived in Hell, but he ends up growing fond of him nonetheless. He thought Vox was sort of pathetic and annoying when they first met, but as the years go on, Val starts to notice traces of the person Vox used to be ("Oh. You're bad.")– the person he'd fall in love with under different circumstances. By the time they end up at the hotel, they're pretty good friends (Val might've even been the one to give Vox a place to stay after Alastor went MIA (or he could've just bounced around in the grid for seven years, either works)). Val eventually comes to resent Alastor for robbing him of the opportunity to meet the original Vox, although he can still see the value in the one that exists now.

Vox is conflicted over having feelings for both Valentino and Alastor. He knows he can't ever pursue things with Al, but it still feels like a betrayal to have a crush on someone else. He doesn't talk about it, but it's something that's obviously going on in the background with him.

The Vees finding each other in every universe and becoming friends at the hotel would be super sweet. Velvette wasn't anticipating making friends at all, let alone with these two weirdos, but she's glad she did.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Through the Labyrinth the Thread Guides; Idia Shroud

Strings tie together fates. Strings build fates. But should the thread unravel, will your fate follow?

Supporting Roles; Ortho Shroud & Grim

Content; Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match instead), gender-neutral reader, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic, hurt/comfort, Idia being prime wet cat energy

Content Warnings; Idia & Ortho's backstory (brief mentions of death), some heavy self-depreciation & blaming (Idia), swearing, crying (Idia)

Word Count; 5.5 K

Do not put mine - or other creators’ - works into AI; that shit steals.

In rare instances, humans are given soul matches. It is an odd occurrence, but in a select few families, it is quite common to have one. One of these families being the Shrouds.

There is a story, a myth from aeons past, of a woman using a ball of thread to lead her and others in her company to safety. There is another tale, that one’s life is like that of a string, which the three fates cut with their shears. Strings connect things. Connect people in often invisible ways. They can create. If one snaps, or is loose, everything can unravel. But they can also ensnare; like the sticky strings of a spider’s web. Strings are something the Shroud family is well acquainted with. Alongside the family curse was a family blessing, placed upon them by the God of the Underworld.

No two strings are the same, as they reflected the qualities they shared with the person at the other end. The base colour would stay the same, but the brightness would change with their match’s emotions and well-being. The brighter and lighter the colour, the happier and better their match was. The darker the colour… it meant they were unwell, or under extreme conditions. But there were conflicting ideas within the family over the generations, all written down in a codex that dated back to the very first Shroud.

But, as with any blessing, there is a price to pay for such happiness. For nothing in this world comes for free. Each Shroud is born with two strings. The string on the right leads to the person who will love them for them, of comfort zones, a safety net if you will. The string on the left leads to someone who will change them, make them reassess their life. Right is the known, and left is the unknown. These strings can lead to many different types of relationships; familial, platonic, romantic, and many more.

The strings don’t ever disappear, but if the other person connected by the string dies, then their shared string snaps. The thread around their finger, now white, serving as a cruel reminder of what was. Or in some cases, of what could have been. 

Another steep price is that the person at the end of the winding thread, should they choose their match, will also be subjected to the Shroud family’s curse. So there are many cases across the decades of select Shrouds choosing to ignore the thread, to not bring someone else to their fate. But not all matches felt the same way, as a few matches actively searched and confronted their match. These pairings serve as a reminder; that even though you may try to ignore fate, it will catch up to you. And both are transported into a labyrinth, disguised from each other; only able to get out with each other and without the one looking back.

Is this guarantee of happiness truly worth putting someone else, someone innocent, through the same cursed fate as them though? Many a Shroud, if not all, are conflicted by the prospect. Should happiness really come at the cost of someone else’s? Even if they would be happy together?

…

…

…

Idia looked into the crib where the yellow string on his right hand led, glowing a faint sunshine gold. This baby — Ortho — was supposed to be the person who will love him for him? 

“Idia, honey, what’s with the frown,” his mom asked, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

Idia peered into the crib, where Ortho was peacefully sound asleep. “My thread leads to him,” he muttered. He knew that eventually he and Ortho would bond, but it would be several years until the two could really get close. You can’t exactly have a conversation or play more complex games with a baby. “What does that mean?”

Mrs. Shroud hummed, her usual chipperness being a bit more subdued due to the little amount of sleep she was getting. Well, both parents really, but Mr Shroud just was extra tired and quiet when compared to his wife. “Well, remember the stories I tell you when you go to sleep, honey?”

“Like… Ariadne and the string? But that’s just a story, Mom,” Idia huffed, pushing the mobile and making the pegasi fly in a slow circle. “Plus Ariadne didn’t have a happy ending… the hero didn’t stay with her.”

Mrs. Shroud’s eyes were fixed on him, and she was thinking. “Well, the string that led to Theseus was on her left hand, dear; the left string changes us, for better or for worse. But on her right hand was another string, much like the string on yours. The string on your right hand is for those who will love you as you are. Regardless of what happens.”

Idia looked down into the crib again, where the pegasi cast dancing shadows. “But he’s so … small.”  

“Well he is a baby,” Mrs. Shroud laughed, looking between her bewildered son and her peacefully sleeping baby. “Don’t worry, before long the two of you will be running and playing. You’ll be the best of friends, trust me. Okay?”

Idia didn’t look impressed but he nodded at his mom before heading back to his room. He finally knew where the yellow string, the string on his right hand, led. But why was the string on his right hand floating up before fading out into nothingness? A translucent thread, save for the tiniest hint of blue. No one in the stories, either old or new, had a string that went up. If his soul match were dead his thread would be white and hanging limply off of his finger. But no, it just led somewhere where he couldn’t see. A place that no one knew of.

Left strings lead to someone who will change us. But Idia had heard enough stories of how left threads led to either happiness or utter despair. After all, Ariadne’s left thread only brought her heartbreak, and her other soul match, the God of Revelry, was the only one that brought her solace. 

…

Laughter haunted his mind. Cheer-filled laughter. Love. memories haunted his mind. But they were only that, memories. Memories could not replace Ortho. Memories could not bring back his brother. Memories could not fix everything that has happened.

It’s all my fault. He looked down at the mechanical parts. It’s all my fault. How long has it been since he last slept? It’s all my fault. “It’s all my fault,” he hissed, shoving the parts away in frustration.

Ortho wouldn’t have… We wouldn’t- Ortho would still be here if it weren’t for me! That was what Idia constantly told himself since the incident. If it weren’t for me, Ortho would be here! I’m no hero! I just want my brother back! GIVE ME MY BROTHER BACK!

But he wouldn’t get Ortho back, not truly. Death is a permanent thing, it cannot be undone. But Idia was not the only one hurting, for his parents were also grieving.

“Island of Woe,” Idia sighed, looking into the reflection off of one of the many monitors. “Rather fitting. Nothing but misery… but pain. Is this to be our fate?” His hair, once a dull blue, was now shining a brilliant angry red. “Is this Ortho’s fate? To die because of my influence?! He’s a kid! HE DIDN’T KNOW!” I’m just a kid. But as soon as the anger came up, it vanished, and the room went back to its dim blue glow from the multiple screens showing blueprints.

Sighing, Idia went back to work, fiddling with wires and reading over blueprints and various magic texts. If magic alone could not bring back Ortho, then maybe technology could. The past two years have been like this; Idia working long into the night, trying to find a way, any possible way, to bring Ortho back.

It’s all my fault, so the least I can do is make it right. He didn’t care how long it took him, he was going to make sure that Ortho would be back home. 

The thread on the right-hand leads you to someone who will love you as you are. Idia loved Ortho, and he would still love him, even if his brother was now made of steel and wires.

“Here goes nothing.” What was this, the one-hundredth attempt? He spent nearly three months working on this body, but now was the moment of truth. “Please, please work.”

And he started up Ortho’s programming, waiting for the blue flame to ignite. And as the blue flame sparked to life, the string on Idia’s right hand connected itself to Ortho. Glowing a blinding yellow, changing from a bright pastel to a dark ochre, mirroring the complex emotions running through the older Shroud’s mind.

But the string on his left hand was still translucent and led nowhere, nowhere but up.

…

…

…

Eyes, eyes are everywhere. Voices are everywhere. And Idia could see all of this from the other side of the screen. Where the others were standing around the mirror chamber, whispering amongst themselves, Idia sat at his desk, watching everything take place. He really didn’t even want to be there, even virtually, but the Housewarden of each dorm was required to attend, he just happened to pull a few strings so he didn’t have to endure the social interaction.

Besides, the ceremony was the same every year, and Idia really didn’t need to be there to welcome the newcomers. So he wasn’t, instead watching and adding his input as needed, working on a new customization for Ortho. He looked down at his hand. The thread on his left hand was still translucent and went nowhere but up, fading into nothing. Idia still didn’t know what that was meant to mean, and there were no records in the family library or database about any other cases. 

Left is the unknown. Left is what changes you. But what is there to change? Why should Idia change? He looked to his right hand, where the yellow thread on his pinky connected to Ortho. Right is who loves you for you. All Idia needed was Ortho, he didn’t need nor want anyone else. Especially someone waltzing in uninvited to throw a wrench in his life. Ortho was all Idia needed. Ortho was all Idia wanted. Never again was he going to lose his brother. He would go to the ends of the world and back for him.

The ceremony didn’t go off without a hitch though. Through the screen, Idia saw blue fire, saw students clamouring out to escape the flames. But the fire is not what caught Idia’s eye though, no. What caught his eye was that the thread on his left hand was glowing blue, and led outside his door, out into the campus of Night Raven College. 

He felt a lump form in his throat. Left changes you. The thread dulled in its luminosity, becoming clouded. Confused. Both Idia and the person at the other end of the thread were confused. For Idia, it was that the thread was… active? It was the realization that the person who would change him was here, and that thought alone terrified him. But for the other person at the end of the thread, it was an entirely different kind of confusion. It was more along the lines of “Where the hell am I? WHY AM I IN A COFFIN?! WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE?!” type of confusion.

And out of all the possible colours it had to be blue. Blue has many meanings; inspiration, imagination, trust, and wisdom. But also sadness. Feeling blue was called that for a reason. Blue hardly brought anything without sadness. But at the same time, it was all too fitting that the thread that he shared with his soul match was blue. Of course, Idia would bring nothing but sadness to his match.

Would I change them for the worse? I can’t drag them into this… I can’t do this. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be in your life,” he whispered, grabbing a pair of scissors. He drew the thread taut and brought the blades in, before snipping. But the tread didn’t break, instead, it cut through the scissors, changing from faded blue to a blazing gold, before fading back to blue.

Yeah, there was no chance of Idia removing the molten scissors from the floor of his room. His face paled, and he stared at the thread.

Others had tried to cut the thread off before him, but the scissors just bounced off. They didn’t cut through and melt metal. That wasn’t normal. None of this was normal. Idia wasn’t normal.

“Who are you?” But the thread didn’t answer, still glowing faintly, shifting from cyan to navy. The cyan shifted to navy, indicating they were feeling much the same. Idia brought his knees to his chest and hid his head into the space between them. Who are you, and what’s going to happen?

…

…

Saying that you weren’t happy would be a gross understatement. You were the furthest thing from happy. You were here, wherever here was, you nearly got burned alive by some cat creature that had adopted you as his hench-human, and some weird birdman had “graciously” let you stay in a dilapidated house infested with ghosts. So yeah, you were not having a good night.

“Why,” you seethed, looking through the cracked windows at the darkening sky. “Why me?” But all you got for an answer was creaking wood and the whistling of wind coming in through the many cracks in the walls and ceiling. You plopped down on one of the ancient sofas and fell straight through to the ground. Yeah, sure, why not?!

Today was a mess, a disastrous mess. But at least now, everything was quiet… for the most part, but whatever was to come could wait until tomorrow when you were somewhat well rested. In all of the ruckus and noise though, there was a silent change. Curiously, on each hand, on your pinky, were coloured strings.

On your right, a purple string, glowing with lilac and deep violet. With that string, you saw where it ended, which was on Grim’s right paw. But on your left hand, you couldn’t see the ending for the blue thread, glowing a faint navy. It led outside of the door and kept on going before disappearing off into campus. You didn’t know what strings meant here, but back at home, red strings were a popular trope in soulmate fanfiction. Here though? No clue. What does it mean to have two? Why were they different colours? Why did they just appear now?

The glowing strings didn’t answer, of course, and continued glowing. Fading between different shades of their respective colours, but the blue string remained a dark navy. To be fair though, nothing really made sense here. So, sure, why not?

There’s no bed… well, a proper bed. So the floor it is I guess. It wasn’t the most ideal of situations, but it was a bit better than sleeping outside. Looking up to the ceiling, you started counting the cracks to take your mind off of things. Fifty-six, fifty-seven… How many cracks could a ceiling have until it didn’t count as a ceiling? Sighing, you tugged at the blue string, seeing if you would get some kind of answer back. But nope. Nada. Zero. You got zilch as an answer. But the string was less of the dark, deep, navy, and there was a hint of a true blue in the mix.

You rubbed your eyes and kept on tugging at the string every time you counted another crack. One hundred and … I lost count FU- you groaned in defeat. You gave one last pull at the string before deciding to try and get some shut-eye. If today was just beginning, then, boy howdy, more chaos and shenanigans were sure to come your way. And what chaos and shenanigans they were.

…

…

…

Idia was antsy today, more antsy than usual. Every night, at around the same time, he would feel the thread on his left pinky tug. It was insistent, but it was the same number every time. He hadn’t made any sort of move with his string since he tried to cut it. And honestly, he was scared to even touch it. Fearing that should he interact with the string, that it would bring his other soul match into his life. Finally, he felt the last tug, which was always the strongest, and sighed with relief.

At first, Idia thought it was just his match trying to get his attention, and that was still a possibility, but it was the same amount of tugs every night. They didn’t pull the string at any other time, only at night. So perhaps trying to get his attention wasn’t the point. Maybe it was Morse code? But the tugging was the same quick motion. Unless his match was just saying E two hundred and thirteen times with a T at the end, they weren’t trying to get a message across. Then what did they want? What were they doing? Why were they doing it? 

“Why am I thinking about them,” he hissed under his breath, placing his forehead on his desk. I don’t want to think about them… they’ll change everything.

And while many people in his family had good relationships with their match on their left string, there was always the chance that it could end horribly. They would hate me anyways… the only one that likes me is Ortho. All I need is Ortho.

“They can’t hate you if you don’t give them the chance to know you!” Ortho had seamlessly snuck into the room, and apparently Idia had said his thoughts out loud too. Ortho looked at Idia’s left hand, he couldn’t actually see the thread, but he knew it was there, and he knew it had appeared the day of the ceremony. Knew that Idia was quietly obsessing on not meeting his soul match. “You can’t avoid them forever, nii-san!”

I can’t avoid them forever. Ortho was right in that, since the threads would tighten and force the reluctant one — aka Idia — to them. And he cringed at the thought of his thread practically dragging him to his soul match. If they already thought he was some loser, then surely that introduction wouldn’t bolster any confidence. “They don’t need me… they don’t want me.”

Ortho frowned, and their connected thread turned a dark ochre, reflecting Ortho’s frustration at his older brother’s resistance. “How do you know that, though?”

“I just do,” Idia huffed. 

He loved his younger brother, loved him so much that he couldn’t live without him, but sometimes Idia wished that he would drop the subject of soul matches. Stop trying to make him change his mind. Right is for those who love you regardless of everything. But Idia knew Ortho only did it to try and make him happy. Left is who changes you. 

Ortho yanked on their thread, forcing Idia out of his own head. “No, no you don’t. And maybe they won’t change you, but you just might change for them.” Change is a part of life. Enjoy life, Idia. Ortho didn’t say that though, hoping that Idia would get out of his comfort zone, take a chance, go on a quest, and find the other person at the end of the string. Wherever they may be.

…

…

…

Something was wrong. The thread on your finger had turned black, and led to nowhere, fading into the air. It had happened right as you had entered the air zone of the Island of Woe. 

Go back! Turn back! Now is a BAD time! But was there ever a good time? Would there ever be a good time? And despite the alarm bells practically screaming in your head, you advanced. Originally you came here to rescue your friends — even if a few were more reluctant to call you that — but there was something more. It was as if you were here for a reason. 

The right string, your string that led to Grim, was glowing a faint, dark violet. He’s scared. And like hell were you going to abandon your demanding fur-child. Yes, he gave you constant migraines and set the kitchen on fire too many times to really count — forty-seven though according to Deuce — but you loved the little asshole. Loved him enough to face down Idia… Idia who was surrounded by blot. But that wasn’t all, no. Both of you were in a maze, a labyrinth, made of ink. And Idia wasn’t all there, and you knew that a part of him was outside of the maze, as was a part of you. But the parts that mattered were here, stuck in the dripping labyrinth, together.

  And then Idia was gone, either being teleported to somewhere else in the maze, or back outside. In your mind you could see the events unfolding, but you weren’t really there. In the darkness there were two sources of light. The thread on your left pinky was now glowing a blinding gold, and weaving between the inky walls. Going forward. But there was also the string on your right hand, glowing a faint purple and led up. In order to get out of this maze it looked like you would have to follow the blue thread now turned gold which blazed forward like the Sun across the horizon. 

In your mind you could see everyone fighting Idia, could see yourself fighting Idia, but you were following the gold thread through the silent maze.

“Where are you bringing me?” But all you got for an answer was a slight change in brightness. None of this made sense. I really should have researched this when I had the chance. That’s a problem for future me though. 

The thread eventually stopped though, stopping in front of a figure sitting on the ground with his knees to his chest, hugging them. A figure made of blue, gold, and yellow flame. 

…

Idia felt his chest and eyes burning. Why am I crying? He looked through his tear-warped vision, but he was in some sort of labyrinth. Why am I here? The thread was glowing gold, much as it had when he had attempted to cut it. But instead of being unbearably hot, it was warm, like his favourite hoodie. Comforting. But the thread on his right hand had snapped again, and was white. Ortho was gone again. It’s all my fault. Everything is always my fault.

Left changes us. Left is the unknown. Left is possibility.

But it’s also pain, uncertainty, fear, rejection—

“But how do you know that though?” That’s what Ortho said. And Idia didn’t know those things, not for certain.

He curled into himself, trying to ground himself. A curt laugh escaping from his lips. “A labyrinth of all places,” he said quietly into the dripping gloom. Fitting, since Ariadne was hurt most by the person she met there. Are you trying to tell me they’ll come in here, waltzing in like some hot shot hero, only then to ditch me for someone else?

But the thread only continued to glow, leading out into the maze. The only way out is forward. But Idia couldn’t move, he felt frozen, stuck. So he just sat there, letting out the built up grief of years and years come out. The tears gently rolled down his face before falling into the ink. 

“Are you okay?”

A voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Idia looked up. Standing at the entrance(?), exit(?) of the labyrinth was a figure, their voice distorted, and their body made up of blue, gold, and lilac flames. And he and they were connected together through the gold cord.

Idia moved in further on himself. “No,” he hissed. Obviously he was not okay. “G-go away! I don’t need you!”

But the figure only got closer, and came down to sit next to him, quietly waiting for him. “I may or may not know you, cuz honestly I can’t tell with the weird voice filter and flame suit, but I think you do need me… I know nothing about what this means,” you picked up the gold thread connecting the two of you together, “but I do know it means we’re connected in some way. Also that we can only get out with each other, regardless of if we like it or not.”

Regardless of if we like it or not. Idia hated this entire situation. He was stuck in here, in this maze with his soul match’s inner flame, but he was also outside. Left changes us. “I don’t want you.” I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t want any of this.

It stung a bit, but you knew there was no bite to their bark. “You may not want me, and I may not want you, but I think we need each other. Cuz whatever these strings are, seem to have a mind of their own.” You got off the ground and offered your hand to your gloomy companion. “Now, are you going to sit here in the dark, or do you want to get out of this place?”

Idia looked up at them. You may not want me, and I may not want you, but I think we need each other. They were right. He wouldn’t be able to leave this maze without them. And right now, they were glowing as bright as the Sun, warm, comforting, and bright. Left is to change. Left is the unknown. So, Idia took their hand.

…

…

The two of you walked in silence throughout the maze, the only sound being the drip drip drip of ink hitting the ground. The further you went from where your fellow flame person was moping, the more light there was, and the ink was slowly fading out. But there was still a long ways to go. But the silence was suffocating, especially since you had some questions that needed answering.

“So,” you cleared your throat, breaking the quiet. “What do these strings mean?”

The flame figure, who was in actuality Idia, beside you tripped. They don’t know? How could they not know? “... they’re soul match threads…”

Soul match? “And what does that mean?” It’s not my fault that I don’t know anything about this. I didn’t really receive a “Welcome to Twisted Wonderland!” brochure.

Idia sighed. He was still nervous around you, but the anonymity of the voice filters and the fact that you were made of fire helped calm his nerves enough. “The one on the right is for the person who loves you for you, regardless of flaws.” And his had broke again, Ortho was gone again. “The left thread is for the person who will change you… it also means the unknown.”

“I don’t want you!” So that’s why they were so defensive. “Well, change can be scary. It can be good or bad,” you hummed. “But life is filled with change… Life is change. You can’t truly live without changing, without taking a chance on the unknown.”

“You’re pretty wise,” it slipped out of his mouth before Idia knew, and he was glad that the fire didn’t change colour like his hair did, or else he would have been bright pink. “Sorry, forget I s-said that!”

But you just chuckled, “Meh, just have learned a lot in the past couple of months… blue does mean wisdom though.”

“It also means sadness.” Idia stopped walking. “I don’t want to bring sadness into your life… it seems to be the only thing I bring.”

“Blue can mean a hundred different things, you just have to decide what it means for you. For me? It means a bright clear sky. It’s water. It’s the bright blue of … my friend’s fire. It can mean anything. You just have to give it meaning.” You didn’t really know why you were saying all of this, but you felt like you could be honest with the stranger beside you.

Left changes you. Left is the unknown… the left can be something you choose for yourself? Idia had always thought that his soul match would be different from him. Try to forcibly change him. But they weren’t. They were helping him, giving him… advice? Helping him out of the maze. Which at first was filled with dark ink, but now instead of stepping on the dark surface, they were in a maze made of white marble, and a blue sky dotted with white clouds overhead.

You didn’t look back at Idia when he stopped walking, and instead waited patiently. You don’t know why, but you had a feeling that if you looked back, they would disappear, heading back to the darkness of the centre of the labyrinth. “Come on, we’re almost out.” You offered your hand again, waiting. “Let’s get out of here.”

This time Idia took your hand without a second thought. A blinding light forced the both of you to close your eyes and you found yourselves out of the maze. To the aftermath of the overblot.

…

…

…

It was a week before the physical string on your and Idia’s hand came back. But this time it was different; instead of being purely blue it was a mix of blue and gold, taking on a marbled appearance. Idia’s right thread to Ortho was back too, and he was overjoyed to have his brother back.

“You met them, didn’t you? In the labyrinth?” Ortho asked, noticing that his brother was different, not a bad different either. “That’s how you escaped the blot.”

Idia nodded. Without his soul match, he would still be stuck in the blot, stuck in the dark maze… stuck in obsessing and blaming himself for what happened in the past. Left is the unknown. Left is the future. “They… they were kind.”

Ortho looked at Idia, and there was a smile in his eyes. “Go to them then, nii-san!!!” He harshly pulled on his thread to push his message home. “What are you waiting for, Idia?!”

What am I waiting for? They had already reached out to him, saved him, so it was only fair to find them in return… to show that he changed. So, he gently plucked at the thread, holding his breath as he waited for an answer. And he felt a pull back as an answer.

Just think of it as a side adventure in a game. This isn’t some boss battle. This isn’t a bad ending in an otome game… This isn’t a game though. 

…

You were smothering Grim in hugs and kisses. “I LOVE YOU, YOU FLUFFY JERK!” You muffled into his fur as he tried to escape your affection.

“Nyeh! You’re choking me! Let me go, hench-human!” Grim squirmed out of your grasp, but hugged your leg. “... I missed you too.”

After everything with Idia’s overblot, you had been giving Grim extra love. Yes, he could be an ass at times, but he’s still your friend, and you loved him regardless. Right is for those who love you regardless of anything else. You loved Grim, regardless of everything that he’s done. And he loved you. You two were family. A vibrating sensation on your left hand pulled you from the sweet moment.

The thread connected to your hand was slowly vibrating. So, they’re reaching out? … maybe I did change them? And you lightly pulled on the string. You wanted to find them, if for nothing else than to make sure that they were okay.

“Grim, don’t start any house fires when I’m gone,” you placed a kiss on his forehead before going out the door. Ramshackle was still a disaster zone, but it was still home to you. You could always fix it later. It could wait. But the other person at the end of your blue and gold marbled thread could not.

You didn’t know who they were, you didn’t know who to expect, but you were open to the possibilities. You were open to change, open to the unknown. Open to the future, whatever that may look like with them.

Eventually your string stopped, and looking up from the thread you saw Idia, shaking slightly and looking at the string connecting you two. Focusing so strongly that you had came that he hadn’t even looked up to see who his soul match was.

“I know what you may think of me, but…” he took in a shaky breath, trying to get the vulnerability of his voice under control. “I’m trying to change, accepting that what happened, happened. But it’s going to take me a while to level up-” He cringed at the gaming slang he used.

You placed your hand on his. “How do you know what I think about you if you never really asked me?”

Idia’s head snapped up and he looked at you with wide eyes, hair flashing a flustered pink. “It’s you?!” He practically squeaked. The strong, responsible, and kind Prefect?! “NOT THAT THAT’S A BAD THING THOUGH!”

“Do you think change is so scary, now that we know it’s each other?”

Idia looked into your eyes, and he knew his answer. “As long as we have each other, no. It’s not.”

Fin!

Author's Note; Did I use a popular soulmate trope with the string of fate? Yes. Do I care? No~. I did tie in the mythology of Ariadne, but also of Orpheus & Eurydice. Also some colour language because I can. I hope you enjoy Idia's story! If you like my work, or want to read the other Soul Match AU stories I have, do check out my masterlist!

Tags!

@inkybloom-luv @eynnwwyjth @xxoomiii

[runa-falls]

cat and mouse - 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Supervillain(?)!Reader

Warnings: kissy kissy :3, mention of alcohol, you're broke. sorry.

a/n: i wrote this out today (what is now a few days ago) because i couldn't work on the other fic until i got this out of my system :) if there are plot holes its because i vomited out this chapter and threw it out like a dumbass. idk what Black-Cat's personality is like so i made it kinda mirror cat woman from the harley quinn show.

Summary: Every time you try to convince people it was an accident, you immediately get ratted out to the Spider. But really, it was! You don't know why you're being hunted, you didn't even do anything wrong. Yet.

w/c: 2.6k

part 1 part 3 part 4

masterlist

----

Nueva York’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, as he, and the world, likes to call him, is your official nemesis, or at least that’s what the city thinks.

You crumple up the half-soaked People magazine, filled with ‘juicy gossip about our favorite Spider and the new villain-of-the-week: Blaze’. Seriously, you might just become a villain if they keep calling you that.

You briefly forgot you swiped the news story off of a nearby food and entertainment stand (that’s barely holding up in the downpour) until you hear:

“Hey! You gotta pay for that!” 

You don’t. 

In your defense, it was only a dollar-fifty. And either way, it’s technically the Spider’s fault that you didn’t have a penny on you!

Honestly, if it were your choice, you’d never see his stupidly broad shoulders again. He truly is the bane of your existence and a major pain in your ass. You genuinely don’t understand why he even pays you any mind, it’s not like you are plotting to take over the city. You just want enough money to get some fries and a Koka Soda, and maybe a couple more black articles of clothing that aren’t covered in clawed-out stripes. 

Spider-Man? More like Cat-Man. 

You would say you’ve been “fighting” this man for weeks like the magazines insinuate, but it’s less violence than it is just you squirming out of his clutches and running away. You swear the Spider is a bloodhound. No matter where you are, or what you’re wearing, he always finds you. And you always get away. It’s actually quite pathetic. 

He goes: “It’s you again.”

You say: “No it’s not.” 

Then he has to say: “Blaze.” Like you’re some ultra-nemesis that has ruined his life.

And you can’t help but: “Stop fucking calling me that, dude.” Before you make a run for it. 

He catches up, obviously, either has you on the ground, against the wall, or holds you up so you can’t escape, but then you do. Every time. And he lets you. 

So really, it’s just fucking annoying. What a waste of a great plan and an excellently executed silent break-in!

You never asked for any of this. The fact you don’t have a flashy-ass elastic suit should be proof enough: You’re not a supervillain. 

But, when the opportunity to make a little more cash comes around, you can’t just say no. In your mind, the bigger the heist, the longer you can stay out of the public and away from him. 

And if the one girl on the team wants to make you a suit, how can you resist? The Spider has ruined all the other clothes you’ve worn (and not in a good way). 

You saw your new suit a few hours before you needed to meet up with the team. Felicia, or Black Cat as the rest of the group refers to her, is probably the most elegant and badass woman you’ve ever met. 

She has voluminous silver-blonde curls and sharp green eyes that match the deadliness of her talon-like retractable claws (which actually kinda remind you of someone…). Though she doesn’t have explosive energy inside of her as you do, her cat-like senses and martial art skills are almost as deadly. 

Felicia was happy to invite you over to her multi-million dollar penthouse to get ready and hang out a little before you needed to leave. 

She’s filing her nails into perfectly deadly points as you sit on her plush ultra-white couch next to the new suit, hands fiddling nervously together as you watch her pamper herself with extreme precision. There are two glasses of high-grade champagne in front of you on the glass coffee table. Yours is barely touched. Hers has been drained and refilled a couple of times throughout the hour. 

“You know, usually I’d work this job alone, but it’s a lot easier to get away when you leave a few maggots to distract the Spider. That’s what men are for. Us girls need to stick together, right?” 

Even her voice is elegant. 

“Yeah.” You croak out. You prefer to listen to her talk than say something dumb and non-villain-like. And yeah, you’ll admit you’re a tiny bit scared of her, but sometimes that’s something you have to go through when making friends. Right?

“Alright, we’ve got like 20 minutes. Go on, babe, try it on.” She loosely gestures to the suit, “Bathroom is in the hallway, first door to the left.” You stand promptly and shuffle over to her bathroom, taking a second to look back to send a grateful smile at her before you close the door. 

It almost resembles the one you saw on her the first day you met. The only difference is that yours is completely black and has a high collar neckline in contrast to her more provocative V-shaped suit.

There’s no fur-lining or silver details, just an invisible zipper that creates the illusion that this suit is painted onto your body. Felicia also provided a simple mask that you can pull over your head when you tie back your hair and some silver hair spray so you’re less recognizable to the general public. 

You stare in the mirror and smooth out any wrinkles down your torso with your gloved fingers. Alright. Now you look like a supervillain. 

Or at least a super-something. 

She makes you do a little spin. “You look lovely, darling.” A smirk pulled at her charming lips. “Absolutely, perfect.” 

—

Fuck.

So here you are, trying to break out of a bank that shut down around you as soon as you walked in. The two guys, who you never took the time to learn the names of, are freaking out, banging harshly against the metal doors that slammed shut in front of the exits. 

Felicia, on the other hand, is as cool as a cucumber, checking her nails like there isn’t a blaring siren and pulsing lights around her. 

So what now? You could probably blast the doors open with whatever comes out of your hands (you’re still not sure as you try to use your powers as a last resort). But that would leave a bunch of evidence that you were there and you didn’t come to knock down a whole building.

You walk over to her, trying to hide the anxiety that’s starting to bubble up inside of you. “What should we do?” She looks up from her manicured nails and looks at you. Then at the guys.

“Well, the boys seem a bit preoccupied,” As if to prove her point, one of them starts kicking the door, as if it would magically open up for him if he were to hit it harder and make more noise. She sighs, “I guess we could use the air duct that leads to the roof.” 

“Ok.”

So you follow her to one of the main offices in the building, watching as she easily rips off the cover of the vent and uses the desk for leverage to hoist her into the surprisingly spacious air duct. 

The chill evening breeze of Nueva York has never felt so good. Well, it has smelt better, but if garbage and crime-filled air meant you’re not going back to jail, you’ll take it. 

“Well, that could’ve gone better.” The Black Cat runs her fingers through her hair, pushing it back and out of her face. Of course, it falls perfectly over her shoulders. “So…I’ll see you later, yeah?” She’s leaving?

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’d love to!” 

“Great.” She walks to the edge of the roof and scales down the back of the building like it’s nothing. Look, it’s not that tall of a building, but still, you weren’t about to follow her down. You watch as her black-suited figure lands on the concrete ground, barely making a sound, before she sashays into the shadows of the city, disappearing into the night. God, she’s so cool. 

And then it’s just you. 

You sit yourself down and finally take a breath. Your first job as a villain and you didn’t even get to see the money. What are you getting yourself into?

You pull slightly at the elastic holding your hair together, regretting the tight pony that’s now giving you a major headache. Maybe this life isn’t for you. With, probably an overdramatic, sigh you push yourself up. Now to figure out how you’re getting out of here. 

–

Turns out you didn’t have too many options. As soon as you were about to take a serious ‘leap of faith’ and try to scale down the building, you were ambushed by a series of fwp, fwp, fwp’s and lifted from the ground. That probably saved your life now that you’re thinking back on it.

So, he found you. Big surprise. He’s practically stalking you at this point.

He takes you for a ride, holding you close as he swings from building to building, barely breaking a sweat. You’re actually surprised that you didn’t hurl all over his stupidly firm shoulder. You should have.

You don’t know why he brought you to the top of a half-constructed building, but you’re assuming he’s just trying to be dramatic again. Superheroes, right? 

You struggle against restraints when you’re finally set down, at least trying to lay in a more comfortable position as Spider-man stands over you. Not only are you fully wrapped in red webs, but your arms are also tied behind your back.

The Spider kneels down, watching you continue to struggle, “Alright, Hardy, give it up.” Hardy? Shit, he must think you’re Felicia. The black suit, the silver hair. Dammit. 

He takes off your mask before you can say anything, pulling out your loose hair tie with it, and boy, is he surprised to see it’s you.

“Wh–Blaze?” He takes off his mask like he can’t believe his fabric-covered eyes. His scarlet gaze not so subtly takes in your new look. A big change from the usual getup you wear. “What, uh,” When he finally meets your eyes, one of his gloved hands raises to rub at the back of his neck. Is he nervous? He briefly looks away from you, “What did you do to your hair?”

“Who cares! Let me out of these!” You glower at him, arms tugging at the luminous webs, “And you know I hate that stupid-ass name.”

“What the hell were you doing here? Why are you suddenly hanging out with a bunch of criminals?”

You give him a deadpan expression, “I’m a villain, remember.”

“Ah,” He slices through a couple of the overlapping webs that fit snugly over your stomach. “Finally giving into the narrative, hm?” Then the ones around your arms.

“S’not like I have much of a choice.” The red webs start to loosen until they unravel completely and pool on the floor. “So, you’re…letting me go?” You rub at your sore wrists, feeling the ache dissipate almost immediately. He shrugs like it’s no big deal for him. 

“It’s expected, isn't it?” He’s at the edge of the roof staring at the buildings around him, a soft breeze sweeps through his hair, and the lights of ‘the city that never sleeps’ soak over his suited figure from below.

“Just like that?” 

“...Just like that.” He says. But he says it more to himself than you. With that, he swiftly puts his mask back on, hiding the wonderfully serene expression he once held, but you never got to see in full. 

Spider-man is confusing. He treats you like you’re some sort of catch-and-release criminal. Acting like a push-over parent that reprimands their child even when they know they’ll do it again. You don’t get it. 

And the way he looks at you sometimes. Like he’s having fun. You see it when he’s chasing you, webbing you to the wall, or holding you under his claws. There’s a glowing heat that pulses in his eyes and you can almost see the barest gleam of his fangs. You can’t even wrap your head around how he can both infuriate and draw you in at the same time. And then he lets you go. 

And now he’s leaving you. 

So you take your chance. 

“Wait.” He stills but doesn’t turn back to look at you. He just stays there, merely stopping to listen to whatever you have to say. But you want him to look at you. You need to see those simmering red eyes that are hidden behind the mask. “I-” You stop yourself. You’re not actually sure what you were going to say. All you know is you just weren’t ready for him to leave yet. “I, um, never caught your name!” It blurts out of your lips before you realize what you’re saying. 

Then silence.

How awkward. 

You were sure he was going to leave you there. No sane superhero would reveal his secret identity, dumbass! Especially to a girl like you.

But then his hand comes up, slips off his mask again, hair slightly ruffled from the action, and he finally turns. Before you know it he’s approaching you, fast. And you can’t do anything but stand there, watching as his looming form starts to take up more and more of your vision until he’s standing right in front of you, head tilted downwards and red eyes low. 

Two warm palms cradle your jaw and you lean into the touch, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. Just as your eyes start to open again, his head is dipping toward yours. Then his lips meet yours.

And it’s perfect. His soft plush lips move against yours, occasionally nipping and sucking on your bottom lip until it was satisfyingly plump. The warm, masculine smell surrounding you makes your knees weak as his hands drop from your face to your waist in an effort to pull you toward him.

Your body melts against him as he starts to softly lick into your mouth, thoroughly seeking out the taste of you. He pushes you gently against the unfinished concrete wall behind you, eliminating any space that was left between your thinly suited bodies. You swear you’re about to melt when you feel his broken groan against your lightly suited-chest.

And then you separate, heavy breaths and intense gazes floating between you. “Miguel.” He looks down at the way he’s holding you, the size of his palm against your smaller body. And then the ridiculous suit that was tailored specifically for the heist, but looks more like something you’d wear for a BDSM session. He clears his throat and looks back up, “Miguel O’Hara.”

“Miguel…” His hand on your waist clenches at the sound of your hoarse voice and you can tell he’s tempted to pull you back in. 

“You’re one of the few who know.”

Now, you’re curious. You hum, “Who else knows?” His eyes glance at your hair and his hand drops. Suddenly, you feel cold. He steps away from you, not unkindly, but it’s clear he’s trying to create space. 

He brushes it off, “No one important.” And then he’s walking away. Back to the same spot he was going to leave you from. Cool. 

“Well,” You take a few steps closer, eyes roaming over his muscled back,  “I promise not to tell anyone.”

“I know.” His mask is back on, and this time you know there’s no stopping him this time. “Catch you later, Little Red.” He jumps. 

Little Red? 

[zapreportsblog]

In Love With The Same Cat

➥ summary : There’s no Spider-Man without the Black Cat just like there’s no Black Cat without Spider-Man. But what if we had a multiverse dimensional traveling jewelry stealing burglar Black Cat (try saying that seven times fast aye) that traveled across dimensions not only stealing the worlds finest jewels but also the hearts of four unlucky, or lucky depending on how you see it Spider-Man’s and Spider-Women’s hearts.

➥ chapter 1: The Daughter of Shadows

In the bustling city of Brightville, a young girl named (y/n) grew up in the enigmatic embrace of her father, Walter Hardy, a renowned and elusive cat burglar. From a tender age, (y/n) was immersed in a world of shadows and secrets, a life that few could comprehend. Under her father's watchful eye, she learned not only the art of thievery but also the invaluable lessons of confidence and seizing life's opportunities.

Walter Hardy was a figure shrouded in mystery, his exploits whispered in hushed tones among the criminal underworld. But to (y/n), he was simply her loving father—a man whose presence both comforted and challenged her. Despite the unconventional nature of their lives, Walter was determined to raise (y/n) to be a strong and confident individual, encouraging her to embrace the world with fearless determination.

From an early age, (y/n) became Walter's protégé, accompanying him on various heists and observing his every move with wide-eyed curiosity. The dark alleys and high-rise rooftops became her playground, where she learned the art of agility and the thrill of outsmarting the odds. Walter, recognizing her natural talent and thirst for knowledge, nurtured her abilities, teaching her the intricacies of the trade while instilling in her a strong moral compass.

One sunny afternoon, as (y/n) carefully observed her father's nimble maneuvers, he paused and turned to her with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "My dear (y/n)," he said, his voice laced with warmth and conviction, "life is a grand heist waiting to be seized. Do not fear the unknown, but rather embrace it with confidence. Only then can you truly discover the treasures hidden within."

With those words etched into her young heart, (y/n) embarked on a journey of self-discovery and resilience. She learned to navigate the intricate webs of deception and subterfuge, honing her skills in the art of illusion and misdirection. But more importantly, she learned to believe in herself—to trust her instincts and to never back down from a challenge.

Walter encouraged (y/n) to explore beyond the confines of their nocturnal escapades, exposing her to a multitude of experiences that would shape her worldview. They attended art exhibitions, where they marveled at the strokes of a master's brush, and visited bustling markets, where (y/n) haggled with vendors and embraced the vibrant tapestry of cultures. Through these experiences, Walter instilled in her the importance of a well-rounded education, cultivating her intellect and expanding her horizons.

But it was not just the thrill of adventure that defined their relationship. In the quiet moments, when the city slept and the moon bathed the world in its ethereal glow, (y/n) and Walter would sit beneath the starry sky, sharing stories of their past and dreaming of the future. It was in these stolen moments that (y/n) discovered the depth of her father's love—a love that transcended their clandestine activities and embraced the essence of family.

As the years passed, (y/n) grew into a confident young woman, her spirit untamed and her resolve unyielding. She possessed an uncanny ability to blend seamlessly into any situation, her nimble fingers and quick wit serving her well in the world her father had introduced her to. But it was her unwavering confidence that set her apart—a quality that Walter had nurtured from her earliest days.

With each heist they embarked upon, (y/n) faced challenges head-on, her unwavering confidence shining through the darkness that surrounded them. She reveled in the adrenaline rush, the thrill of outsmarting her adversaries, and the satisfaction of retrieving the treasured artifacts they sought. Through it all, she carried with her the lessons her father had imparted—the importance of self-belief and the courage to seize every opportunity that presented itself.

As (y/n) stood on the precipice of her own journey, she carried the legacy of her father's teachings within her heart. The world awaited her, full of untold adventures and uncharted territories. With Walter's lessons guiding her, she knew that she had the tools to carve her own path, to embrace the shadows and emerge victorious.

In the heart of Brightville, (y/n) stood as a testament to her father's unwavering belief in her potential. She was more than the daughter of a cat burglar; she was a force to be reckoned with—a beacon of confidence and resilience in a world that often sought to overshadow her. And as she prepared to step into the spotlight, she did so with the knowledge that she was the culmination of her father's love and guidance—a testament to the indomitable spirit that Walter Hardy had instilled within her.