brighterdaysarebeforeus

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Hobie is not having a fun time right now. (>.<)

Also sorry for the delay in this, I got stuck elsewhere, hahaha.

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

Hobie was far from mad; he was furious. Enraged. So overcome with a burning, molten anger that he couldn’t figure out what to do with it right at that current moment.

He tilted his head back against the surprisingly cool stone of the cell, glaring up at the ceiling. The stone didn’t provide a lot of light, obviously, that was coming from the setting sun hitting the window just right, but that didn’t particularly matter to Hobie right at this moment. He had been put in a holding cell, all by himself, a temporary place to stay until either his death sentence or his permanent relocation to an actual prison; apparently the Royalists weren’t entirely sure what to do with him just yet. There was no physical evidence, apparently, of Hobie managing to kidnap the prince from the castle, no video evidence either; just the word of some scientist who clearly wasn’t even sure if she’d seen Hobie or not, and couldn’t even remember roundabouts when she was supposed to have seen him.

And the kicker was, Hobie never went near the palace! He hated the place with a passion, the obvious riches that went to the Royal family while the city closest to them suffered from poverty, the way it fell on him and his crew to keep their people from going hungry or giving them directions to keep them from sleeping on the streets. There was no way he would ever go anywhere near the place, and no way he would have any idea what to do with the prince if he’d ever found the kid in his possession (so to speak) —

Except, apparently, he had had the prince running with him and his crew.

That was the thing, wasn’t it, that was the whole thing that sort of tore Hobie up the most. He’d trusted Michael, let him get close. Not even just close to him, but close to his family. Showed him their hiding spots, got him involved in his community, let him be a part of their group with welcoming smiles and open arms. Hobie had considered the possibility that the kid was some kind of sheltered, some kind of worker for the palace, because it was obvious; it was obvious in the way he’d interacted with the people, with the way Michael had stared around them as they walked the city, there was no way he’d grown up anywhere but in comfort, and Hobie had been fine with that. He’d had something in place to keep Michael with him, with them, long term, because despite his obvious naivety Hobie had actually really liked the kid, but all that went out the window the second Miguel had pinned him to the ground. It was one thing for Michael to have come from a serving family in the castle, but for him to be the actual prince —

The door to the left from him clanged open. Hobie didn’t move. Footsteps made their way briskly down the hallway, and he closed his eyes as if that would put off whatever was about to happen. He wasn’t in the mood, he didn’t want to deal with it, but he didn’t have a choice; the footsteps stopped in front of him, silence echoing loudly between him and whoever was in front of him currently. Hobie kept his eyes shut.

“You’re not even going to look at me?”

“Nah.” Hobie shifted so he was a little more comfortable against the wall. She didn’t sound mad, or annoyed; she actually sounded kind of amused, and so Hobie decided that his full attention wasn’t necessarily needed. Miguel would’ve been spitting, he knew that much, or he’d be overly gloating about the fact that he’d finally caught Hobie. “No need, is there? News’s gonna be bad either way. Don’t gotta look at you for that, do I?”

Honestly, he blamed Margo; she was the one who pointed out his luck would run out, that little brat, and it looked like it finally had. He was gonna miss her.

(He had to blame Margo; it was the only surface level thought that kept him from blaming Michael — Miles — because he didn’t want to focus on anger right now, in what could potentially be his last minutes. He wanted to think about his crew, the good times he had with them. He blamed Margo because it was easier, because he didn’t actually blame her for the situation he’d gotten himself in at all.)

“What if it’s not bad news?” Hobie’s eyes drifted open at that, but he didn’t look down at the woman in front of him. He stared up at the ceiling, frowning as he took in the words and mulled them over. She pressed her advantage as he did so, he could hear her leaning on the bars now. “I could help you out, get you out of here. You don’t have to go down for this.”

“No vengeance on the renegade teen who kidnapped your precious prince?” Hobie sneered, his eyes flickering as he forced himself to keep staring upwards at the ceiling. He wouldn’t look at her, he wouldn’t; listening to this woman was likely only going to get him into more trouble, and nothing was worth that. “No righteous judgement upon the poor, lowly kid who dared to even look his way for the smallest of moments?”

“We both know that wasn’t what happened, don’t we?” His eyes dropped at that, staring at the woman through the bars she was leaning against even as he didn’t move a muscle; she had big, bushy hair that was barely being held back by a headband, dark clothes and boots on. She looked thin, in that way people get when they get too engrossed in their work and forget to eat, and she was staring at him intently through big round glasses. His mouth went a bit dry at the implication she was tossing his way oh so casually. “You’ve never come within a fifty foot radius of this place before now, have you?”

“How do you know?” Hobie asked, but his defiance was dwindling the longer she stood in front of him. She smiled, but it wasn’t kind or friendly in any sense of the words; it set Hobie’s teeth on edge a bit. “I could be here every other night, just skulking around.”

“But you’re not.” She pulled a file from seemingly out of nowhere, standing up straight as she leafed through it. “Hobart Brown” and he gagged at his name, obvious and loud and echoing in the space between them, but she kept on, “wanted for misdemeanor things. Squatting, petty thievery, some defacing public property — ”

“Oi, hold on,” Hobie dropped forward now, leaning his elbows on his knees as he stared her down, “there was no defacing any sort of public property — ”

“The point,” she said as she snapped the file shut, “is that all that little stuff? Not important, in the long run. Not in any way that really matters, right?” Hobie fell silent, pressing his lips together. She took his silence as an answer and pressed on. “Any other thing you’d get caught for, you’d get a slap on the wrist and nothing else. Maybe a day or two, in holding, but that’s it. That’s nothing, honestly, back out on the streets with your friends in no time. But this.” She leaned on the bars again, staring down at Hobie. “You could potentially hang for this, kid. This is some real trouble you’ve gotten yourself into here.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the lady staring down at Hobie, who mulled everything over in his mind. His jaw worked as he thought, tongue playing with the ring circling his lower lip. The kicker was, she wasn’t entirely wrong and he knew it; he just didn’t want to give in so easily because he wasn’t entirely sure where this was going or what she wanted from him. It made him uneasy, but…he didn’t really want to face the consequences of “kidnapping the prince” when his only real crime was taking in some random kid he’d found off the streets. It wasn’t his fault that he was so willing to help his community.

“What’s the catch?” He asked, and the lady smiled.

#punkflower #hobie brown #olivia octavius #a whole new world au #part 15

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Sorry for vanishing!! I sort of got stuck on this part and couldn’t figure out where to go, so I’ve had to be working on it off and on. (>.<)” and I’m still not sure how I feel about this soooo. (TT^TT)

We’re very close now!! (>.<) to the end, I mean, how we feeling about that guys? I’m nervous hahahaha.

@hobiesgender @hadesdaughter2002 @lirulua

Masterlist

Fighting the Spot with everyone was…an experience.

Mostly because it was weird working…with Miguel instead of against him. Miguel threw him at the Spot (gently, sort of in the same manner he threw Gwen and Pavitr several moments later), Jess let him jump off the back of her bike to coordinate attacks with the other Spiders, and it gave Miles some sort of whiplash because these people had been after him for ages, it felt like; now, suddenly, it was like there was a much bigger problem they should’ve been focusing on since the beginning and all of a sudden they were willing to work together.

Like he’d said before, but Y’know. Whatever.

The police barricade was getting pushed further back every minute during the fight, the Spiders working together to keep them all safe and secured (ok, so it was mainly Hobie, and Pavitr, and Gwen, and the original anomalies into Miles’s universe that were focused on keeping the police safe but regardless) while the fight raged on. Miles felt out of breath and exhausted, his entire body screaming in an agonized cacophony of injured ribs, sprained ligaments, deep bruises and rapid onset rut symptoms that just wouldn’t abate.

By the time Margo managed, with an entire team of technical-savvy Spiders and LAYLA, to capture the Spot in an upgraded version of one of her containment devices, Miles felt dead on his feet. He was crouching on the twenty-second floor of a (highly) destroyed building, Hobie hovering just behind him and Gwen at his right. The three of them stared down as the Spot threw portal after portal onto the barrier, only to end up right back inside it without going anywhere. He screamed, furious, but all Miles could focus on was the fact that the entire ordeal was finally over.

He fell back onto the floor of the damaged building, listening faintly as Miguel ordered clean up of the destroyed New York. Hobie dropped down behind him, and Miles shuffled until he was able to put his head in the other teen’s lap. Hobie didn’t even seem surprised, just started playing with his hair casually after Miles took off his mask. Miles felt his body relax fully, even with Gwen sitting down next to him and settling in as well. They sat together for a moment, savoring the silence between them while the other Spiders rushed to follow Miguel’s orders.

“Hey, Miles?” Gwen said softly, and Miles hummed at her in response. She didn’t say anything for a long moment, long enough that Miles opened his eyes to peer up at her; she was messing with the hood of her uniform, twisting it gently through her fingers as she stared down at the ground, her mask lifted enough to see her face though the hood stayed on. The police were beginning to make their way through the damaged area, radios going off as they spread out and began helping on their own. “I…I’m really sorry. About how this turned out.” Hobie shifted underneath Miles, enough to make him sit up again and actually pay attention to Gwen as she spoke. “I didn’t mean for this to go so wrong, I just…I just wanted you to stay safe.”

“And safe was not knowing?” Miles asked, and Gwen flinched despite the gentle tone. Granted, it might have been mostly because he was exhausted, and not just from the fight that had literally just ended — staying mad at Gwen and Peter B this entire time took more energy than Miles was usually willing to expend on something like this. “Not explaining…anything? You were really ok just having one more hang out and then just…never seeing me again? That was it?”

“No, that’s not…” Gwen let out a rough breath. “I didn’t want to not see you again, but my mission…”

“Was more important.” Miles offered flatly, and Gwen ran her hand through her hair in frustration.

“No!” She said loudly, and Miles snapped back on instinct; his body was aching something fierce, and he was beyond exhausted, but he could still feel the dredges of his unexpected rut in the back of his mind. Hobie made a noise that calmed Miles, though Gwen looked abashed. “No, that’s not what I meant. I did miss you, Miles, and I did want to see you again, I was just — I was just scared.”

“Scared?”

“Look, things haven’t been…easy, at home.” Gwen pulled her feet up, crossing her arms over her legs in a defensive position. “I was searched for by the police as Spider-Woman already, and then when Peter…my Peter, my best friend…”

“You don’t have to say it again.” Miles offered her, and Gwen let out a shaky sigh.

“Well, after.” She wiped at her face. “After everything, I tried to move on. I had a friend somewhere, a group of them even, but I was somehow just…more alone than I was before, and…my dad is police chief in my universe, and he was dedicated to hunting me down for Peter’s murder.” Miles felt himself frown at that, unable to muster up a better reaction in the moment, but Gwen wasn’t even looking at him. “And the rest of you guys…I didn’t have anyone at all. And when Miguel and Jess appeared, and I told my dad that I was Spider-Woman…”

“Gwen…”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Gwen said shortly, closing her eyes tightly. Hobie reached out from behind Miles, pressing against the side of her neck where she’d tensed up a bit. She relaxed, and Miles couldn’t even find it in himself to be protective over that small touch; she looked defeated, and she needed some comfort. “It didn’t end…it went badly, revealing myself to my dad. So I…went with Jess and Miguel. Jess convinced him I’d be worth taking along with them, but…I couldn’t mess up. Not a lot of room for error when you’re trying to save the multiverse I guess.”

She let out a weak chuckle that sounded upset, and Miles whined softly at her.

“It was fine but I felt like I was walking a different sort of tightrope.” She said. “One mistake too many, one mistake too big, and I was sent home, where I had no one and nothing but Spider-Woman.” Gwen took a shaky breath, opening her eyes to stare up at the sky. They looked glassy and Miles stretched his leg out so it bumped against her hip. A tear broke through at that, trailing down the dirt that had managed to get on her face through her mask. “I was…so tired, all the time. So scared of running away, so scared of going back.”

“You didn’t deserve that, Gwen.” Miles said softly, and another tear broke free. “I’m so sorry, Gwen. You shouldn’t have gone through that alone.” Gwen twisted suddenly, ducking down under Miles’s chin and burying herself into his suit. Miles wrapped his arms around her automatically, glancing behind him to give Hobie a panicked look. Hobie shrugged back at him, then scooted forward a little more so that he could wrap himself around them as well.

Miguel found them several hours later, still huddled together in a pile but fast asleep.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #miguel o'hara #part 18

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Miles and Pavitr chat part 2!! Also, you know that feeling you get when you’ve been away from home for a bit and then you finally go back? That’s Miles right now, hahahahaha

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

Miles was facedown on his bed when the door opened behind him. He almost didn’t want to get up; he had only been gone a week, but that entire week was spent with more physical exercise than Miles had ever had in his life, and at least seven nights of sleeping in awkward places and positions all over the city. His mattress was the most comfortable thing he’d ever laid on in his entire life, and there wasn’t really a lot he was willing to get up for right at that moment.

“I come in peace?” Came the quiet voice, and he turned over quickly for one of the very few (he could not stress that enough, the mattress was so comfortable…) things that could grab his attention right now. Pavitr was standing inside the doorway, looking uncertain as to whether he’d be welcomed in or not, and Miles felt himself smile. As he sat up again, Pavitr smiled more fully and closed the door behind him before taking a running jump onto the bed. He slammed into Miles, laughing at the slightly pained grunt he let out at impact, and Miles was reminded again how long it had been since he’d been able to hang out with Pav. “You didn’t finish telling me about the city, earlier!”

“Pav, you don’t even know!” Miles sat up quickly, beaming at his friend. “It was great, honestly it was. I ran into Hobie and his group like, almost right away. I was practically set, put in the city, man.”

“So Hobie is a person?” Pavitr asked, and Miles lit up.

“Yeah, Hobie’s a person, he’s a really cool guy!” He said. Pavitr lifted an eyebrow at him, and Miles missed the warning sign as he barreled on. “He runs this group of, like, kids and stuff? There were two kids, younger ones I mean, Peni and Ham. And there was Gwen and Margo, too, and they just, like, roamed the city and stuff?”

“Roamed the city?”

“Yeah, but in a helpful way?” Miles frowned as he thought of how to explain to Pavitr without going into the more…illegal things he’d noticed them all doing while he was with them. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened to Hobie, yet, or how the group was supposed to work now that he’d been taken into custody by Miguel. “Like, Hobie would have us divide and conquer the marketplace, and we’d pick up groceries for the elderly in the city. And he had us volunteer in shifts at a food bank!”

“What’s a food bank?” Pavitr asked, and Miles couldn’t help himself; he delved into the whole adventure, starting from when he left (though being careful not to mention how he’d made it out of the castle in the first place) and segueing into his week with the whole group. He even told Pavitr about the close call they’d had with the guards, when they’d had to split up because they’d almost gotten caught squatting in an abandon apartment complex, and he’d gotten stuck following Gwen and Peni over rooftops.

“That shit was scary, though,” he told Pavitr, who was staring at him with wide eyes, “but only because some of those buildings are so tall! And, like, Gwen and Peni had absolutely no qualms about it. I couldn’t get shown up by a twelve year old!”

“But across the roof?”

“I know!” Miles laughed. “But like, Hobie took forever to get back to their base, and like halfway through I started getting worried, cause like, what if he’d gotten caught then, you know? It was wild, man.”

“You really liked this guy, huh?” Pavitr asked softly, and Miles groaned as he covered his face in his hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much about someone before, Miles. You spent a whole week with one guy and you suddenly can’t stop talking about him?”

“There were other people there too!” Miles protested. Pavitr shrugged playfully, shaking his head to contradict Miles. “Didn’t you hear about Margo? Or Gwen? C’mon, man, I just finished telling you about a whole chase scene with Gwen and Peni, I’ve talked about the rest of the group!”

“Not as much as you’ve talked about Hobie.” Pavitr sang his name out teasingly, and Miles groaned even louder. He fell back against the bed again, covering his face with his hands while Pavitr laughed good-naturedly at him. “Come on, Miles. There were, like, eight people here, at the palace, for almost three weeks specifically to appeal to you for marriage, and absolutely none of them got you going on and on about them. You even ran away to get a moment’s peace!”

“That wasn’t exactly — ”

“And then!” Pavitr said loudly, as if to cover Miles’s attempt at defending himself with his own words. “And then! You come back, and your focus is not on meeting with your parents to discuss what you saw, no! You don’t want to talk about how you got out of the castle, or what you saw in the city, why would you? Your one and only trip out into the general population on your own, and you don’t even want to take two minutes to assure your best friend that you’re ok!” Miles protested that, sitting up so quickly a bone popped in his lower back, but Pavitr was on a roll; there was no stopping him. “Nope, your focus is on making sure that everything turned out ok for Hobie!” There was a pause, finally, as Pavitr took a breath and Miles stared at him.

“Are you done?” He asked, and Pavitr snorted. Miles did the same, the both of them collapsing into giggles together. “Like, was that it? Are you finished now? Got it all out of your system?”

“Shut up!” Pavitr whined, smacking him gently. “I’m just saying.” Their giggles died down, and they sat in silence for a moment before a though occurred to Miles.

“Do you think he’s mad at me?” He asked, and Pavitr hummed questioningly. “Hobie.” Pavitr rolled his eyes so hard that his head followed through with the motion, mouthing Hobie’s name as mockingly as he could; Miles ignored him completely to stare at the ceiling, brows furrowed in concern. “Do you think he’s mad, because I lied?”

“Did you lie though?” Pavitr asked. He titled his head back and forth as he thought about it, lips pursed together. Miles watched him from where he started laying down again, waiting for him to come to a verdict. “You just didn’t tell him you were royalty, right? Does that count as a lie?”

“I mean, I guess?” Miles shrugged. “Lie by omission, maybe. But, I mean, I did, sort of, maybe, possibly tell him my name was, uh…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his head and avoiding Pavitr’s intense look as he muttered, “I may have told him my name was Michael.”

“Oh, then yeah, probably.” Pavitr said. “He’s probably mad. Sorry, Miles.” Miles sighed and closed his eyes, dropping his head against the mattress.

He hoped, that if he saw Hobie again, he wouldn’t be too mad at him.

#punkflower #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #a whole new world au #part 14

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

And the continuation! Two more parts after this, I think! (^.^)

@hobiesgender @hadesdaughter2002 @lirulua

Masterlist

Miles wasn’t even aware of himself as he scrambled forward, stumbling to his feet and ignoring the fighting still going on in favor of rushing towards the damaged building. The rubble was still shifting, the little girl was still crying, but Miles only had focus on the hope that was growing in his chest. Miguel was potentially following behind him, or maybe not, who really knew, but Miles managed to make it to the building first.

His instincts sort of faltered then — the girl was still crying, covered in dust and looking shocked, and technically his job as Spider-Man meant that he should comfort her, or at least get her to safety. But on the other hand, the building rubble looked heavy and was still shifting, and Miles was itching to help that out because his dad was under there, what if he was stuck, what if he was hurt, what if he needed help too —

The rubble shifted one last time and Hobie’s masked face appeared; the lenses that covered his eyes were narrowed into slits as he took an audible breath, bracing the building against his shoulder while he adjusted and lifted again. Rocks fell from the collapsing debris, and the decision was made for Miles — not only his dad, now, but Hobie, who needed help. He was still somewhat injured from Earth-42, because super healing didn’t necessarily mean instant healing, and now he was struggling with the heaviness of the building.

“What did you do, Brown?” Miguel snarled suddenly, and Miles growled at him protectively before jumping on top of a piece of rubble. He placed his hands next to Hobie’s, bending his knees and straining to help him lift it.

Hobie had created a little pocket, similar to what Miles himself had done when saving Inspector Singh, and Jefferson was curled into a ball in the center of it. He looked relatively unharmed, though it looked like his glasses had broken, and he was more shaky getting up than Miles had ever seen him before.

Miles couldn’t hold himself back if he’d tried; he threw himself forward, getting closer to his dad than he’d ever allowed himself to be when he was Spider-Man. His dad let out a surprised grunt when Miles slammed into him, holding him tightly and scenting him with a ferocity he’d never done before. Jefferson let him, confused and still clearly terrified at his near death experience.

As Miles calmed down, he realized several things were happening at once: the fight with the Spot was still going on, and the little girl was now crowded in with Miles and his father, and Hobie was arguing with Miguel, who was yelling at both him and Miles at the same time. He turned his head just in time to hear Miguel.

“The safety of the multiverse is at risk!”

“You don’t know that!” Hobie snapped back. “You don’t get to decide that Miles has to lose his dad right at this moment just because you say so!”

“Look at what saving him has done!” Miguel threw his hands out to the sides, where small black holes were forming in buildings. Miles felt his heart seize at the sight of them, and his grip on his dad tightened. His dad was muttering something under his breath, but Miles couldn’t focus on that just yet. “The universe is starting to break apart!”

“That has nothing to do with saving his dad, and you know it!” Hobie gestured towards the fight, where Pavitr was throwing his projectile at the Spot and getting a lucky hit; the Spot had been distracted by throwing up a portal to block Noir’s double attack, which nearly hit Peter B and then Peni in quick succession. Black holes were appearing around them, and the Spiders were trying to use that to their advantage with little luck; after all, none of them knew where those dimensional tears went, and the Spot did. “The bloke is literally made of dimensional transportation holes. He is the one causing all the anomalies!”

That seemed to bring Miguel up short, brow furrowing in thought. Hobie let out a wordless snarl, then swung his guitar towards Miguel without a warning. Miguel ducked automatically, letting out a shout, but it was cut off when Hobie sent a different flying projectile back through the hole it came from. Miguel stared at Hobie, gobsmacked, while he slung his guitar over his shoulder and looked down at Miguel despite the man being taller than him.

“Now,” he said calmly, “if you’re not gonna help, then get out of the way.” He turned to Miles and his dad, making eye contact with Miles as he did so. “Get him to safety. Join us when you can.”

Then jumped forward, back into the fray.

Miguel looked torn, but followed after Hobie with a snarl. He also lifted his hand, LYLA appearing from his watch, and shouted into it requesting extra backup as he threw himself into the fight as well. Jefferson was still muttering under his breath, but Miles had the foresight to pick up the little girl and help his dad out of the little safety pocket Hobie had created for the two of them. He handed the girl to his dad, who immediately clung to him for safety, and they began moving out of the way, heading towards the barricades the police were last seen at; Miles finally tuned into what his dad was saying as they ran, trying not to get hit with the stuff that was being thrown around or crashed into.

“Multiple Spider-Men.” He was muttering, sounding vaguely shocked. “There are…multiple. More than one. Where did — there are multiple Spider-Men.”

“You think this is a lot.” Miles offered, and Jefferson’s head snapped to the side to stare at him, wide eyed and shocked. Miles tried to make his tone jovial, despite the fact that he was (very obviously) scenting his dad for comfort as best as he could while they ran next to each other. “You should see the headquarters.” Jefferson repeated the word, brow furrowing. “Spider-Men as far as the eye can see, farther even! Spider-Women, too. There was also a Spider-Car, and a Spider-Cat, and even a Spider-Horse!”

“In addition to the, uh, the Spider-Pig?” His dad asked faintly, pointing at where Ham was swinging a cartoon hammer at Spot. Miles nodded enthusiastically, and they had almost made it to the barricade when Jefferson stopped and made Miles stop as well. He opened his mouth to protest, trying to hustle them over, but Jefferson put a free hand on his face, over his mask, and said (so softly Miles almost didn’t hear him through the commotion), “Miles?”

“Uh, no…?” Miles tried, and his father blinked at him slowly, giving him the kind of look he usually did when Miles tried to get out of something. Miles doubled down though, acting as if he had no clue who he was talking about. “I don’t know a, uh, a Miles? Do you know a Miles?”

“You — ”

“Would you look at that?” Miles said rhetorically, turning his head towards the roar of a motorcycle. “That would be Jess. They need help fighting the Spot!” He shoved his father gently over towards the barricade, then jumped backwards when the man tried to grab onto one of the ripped portions of his suit. “I’ll see you later, Chief!”

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #miguel o'hara #jefferson davis #jefferson morales #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #part 17

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Miles returns home!! Unhappily, but safe.

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

Miles strode forward, his head held high as he made his way into the castle. His parents were well aware of him coming home, courtesy of Miguel he was sure, but Miles ignored the small fanfare that seemed to herald his arrival. He had a mission, one he was determined to see through.

“Miles — hey, Miles!”

“Not now, Pav — ”

“What do you mean, ‘not now’?” Pavitr sounded so put out that Miles actually stopped, staring at the irritated expression on his friend’s face. He had his arms crossed over his chest, which made him look angrier, but Miles could see the concern hidden underneath it — and the hurt.

It hit him, suddenly, that it had been more than a week since the last time he’d actually seen and hung out with Pavitr. Either somebody else had been vying for his attention, or Pavitr being busy with his own duties, and they hadn’t spent a lot of time together lately. And then, Miles had gone and disappeared, without saying a word to anyone, and without telling anyone how he got out. Of course Pavitr would be worried — he was Miles’s best friend, had been since they were young. Aside from his parents, Pavitr probably was going crazy trying to figure out what had happened.

“I’m sorry, Pav, I really am.” Miles said, moving over to his friend. Pavitr didn’t move, just stood there with a clenched jaw, and Miles put his hands on his friend’s elbow’s. Pavitr turned his head slightly, just enough to hide part of his face with his hair, and Miles shook him gently. “Look, I didn’t mean to make you worry, Pavitr. Promise.”

“But you just left!” He burst out, whipping his head around to glare up at Miles again. His hands dropped to his hips, dislodging Miles’s hand, and he started tapping his foot impatiently. “Without saying anything? What happened, Miles?”

“I don’t know, I just…” Miles sighed, running his hand over his face. “It was just too much, you know? Everyone trying to talk to me, to show off…it was never quiet anymore, and I just needed — I just needed to think, man, I just wanted a moment to myself for once in my life…” Miles shook his head. Pavitr was staring at him with wide eyes now, waiting for him to continue on. “I didn’t even mean to go out, but I climbed one of the trees in the back and…” He sighed again, a short breath through his nose, and found that there was a smile playing at the edge of his mouth. A smile that Pavitr seemed to have caught.

“What was it like?” Pavitr asked softly. He still looked irritated, still a bit hurt, but there was a small spark of mischief in his eyes that was growing. “Being out in the city? What was it like?”

“It was…amazing.” Miles shook his head, trying to figure out how to put his experiences into words. “There was — so much, and I met someone, I met so many people, but — ” he cut himself off with wide eyes, suddenly remembering his mission, “wait, Hobie!”

“What’s a Hobie?” Pavitr asked, but Miles was already running down the hallway, heading towards the only place he could think of that Hobie would be right then; the presentation hall was closed off, guards on either side of the doors. Miles slowed to a brisk walk again, holding his head high as he made his way down the hallway.

When he got close enough, the guards stepped to the side, barricading the door and preventing Miles from going through.

“Sorry, sir.” One of the guards said, “the King and Queen have forbidden entrance while they handle a delicate matter.”

“Stand aside, please.” Miles said authoritatively, but neither guard moved. “If you’d just let me — ”

“I apologized,” the other guard, stepping more firmly in front of Miles when he tried to get around them, “but the King and Queen were very insistent. This is a delicate situation they’re handling right now. No one is to enter the room.”

“I am the delicate situation!” Miles exclaimed. The guards exchanged uneasy looks with each other, but didn’t move. Miles sort of felt like stomping his foot, like a kid not getting his way, but only just refrained. “Me! Please let me in!”

“I — ”

“Miles!”

“Mamí?” Río enveloped Miles in a tight hug, pressing his face into her shoulder and rocking him like when he was younger; Miles let her, not realizing until that moment how much he’d missed his mom. “Mamí, what happened?”

“Oye, I should be asking you that!” Río pushed Miles back gently, glaring at him. “You just vanish, without a word? Who do you think you are? Do you know how much your father and I worried?”

“I know, I know,” Miles tried.

“Oh, he knows!” Río shot back, and Miles sort of resigned himself to being lectured. “He knows, and yet what did we wake up to last week? Hmm?” Miles stayed quiet. “We woke up to Miguel informing us that you’d snuck out in the night! We weren’t sure if you’d been kidnapped, or left on your own — ”

“He knew I left?” Río gave him a look, and Miles cringed. “Not the point, sorry Mamí.” Río brushed her hands across his face, holding it gently in her hands.

“You just scared us a lot, mijo.” She said. “I’m glad you’re back home.”

“Mamí, this is important.” Miles glanced behind her to see the empty presentation hall, his father off to the side as he talked to Miguel and shook his head. Fear spiked through his chest, and he met his mother’s eyes again. “What happened to Hobie?”

“Who is Hobie?” She asked, and Miles felt his leg shake impatiently.

“The guy who came in with me, his name was Hobie. What happened to him?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, mijo.” Río ran her hands through his hair. “He’ll be dealt with properly and we won’t ever have to worry about it again.” Miles opened his mouth to protest, because that didn’t honestly answer anything and he would still very much like to talk to Hobie and explain, at the very least, what had been going on over the past week. Río shushed him gently, turning him around so that he was facing away from the room and leading him back down the hall. “You’ve had a rough week, Miles. Why don’t you stay in your room for today and not worry about anything? We’ll get you for dinner tonight.”

“But — ”

“Go relax, mijo.” Río titled her head back. “Before your dad gets a hold of you, at least.”

#punkflower #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #rio morales #a whole new world au #part 13

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

The Big Boss Battle!! (^.^) sort of. God, this was a mess of a chapter to get out!! (>.<) this is kind of a rough one, by the way, sorry guys!!

@hobiesgender @hadesdaughter2002 @lirulua

Masterlist

There was still a lot going on.

Miles had darted forward, and the Spot opened up a dimensional wormhole in front of him; Miles nearly fell out of a third story window, just barely catching himself in time with a well-placed web. Hobie and Pavitr tried to tag team against him, using their webs to shoot at him, only to duck out of the way at the last second to avoid the Spot’s portals throwing their attacks at each other rather than him.

Gwen dropped from above and kicked him in the side, throwing him off balance and making him fall face first into the ground. He growled as he scrambled to his feet, creating a black hole that Gwen went through on her second attempt at a hit. Miles yelled at that, senses going haywire even if Gwen did appear falling out of the sky two seconds later; her arms pinwheeled as she tried to shoot a web to catch herself and missed, and Miles threw himself towards her. With one hand already holding onto his swinging web, he slammed into her at just the right angle. She gasped at the impact, gripping onto him tightly as they slammed into the side of another building.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, voice trembling just a little, “oh my god, oh my god…”

“Spider-Woman!” Hobie yelled up, appearing next to the both of them. “Spider-Woman, you good?”

“Oh my god.” Gwen gasped in response. Hobie tried to get through to her, but Miles had stopped paying attention to that in favor of darting down at the Spot.

He slammed into him hard, taking him down a second time but not getting him out of the fight. They grappled together, Miles’s hands intermittently dropping into the spots on Spot and vanishing for a moment before he yanked them out again. Something slammed into them both, and Miles snarled loudly as his grip loosened and the Spot vanished. He skid a bit on the concrete, pushing himself up on aching wrists as he took a moment to look around him; in the fighting going on, the police had shown up, setting up what looked like blockades around the fight, and Miles felt his heart rate spike without fully understanding why.

Peter B and Noir were trying to fight the Spot right now, with Gwen and Ham throwing their help in between trying to evacuate, which Pavitr and Peni were focused on. Hobie was swinging around, throwing occasional attacks at the Spot, helping the random citizen who got too close or couldn’t get out, but seemed focused on the police; he destroyed the falling debris that would potentially crush groups of police who couldn’t move from their spots, yanked what policemen he could from getting hit by something that could potentially kill them, all the while snarking back at Gwen whenever she had a chance to mock him for it.

A noise from his left had him jerking his head to the side, and he sort of watched as a building crumbled down to pieces (Noir had thrown what looked like a bus at the Spot, who had opened up a portal just in front of himself and directed it to the top of a building instead; it hit the side of it at speed and the structural integrity of the building did not manage to hold) where a little girl in a red dress was crouching with her hands over her head. She was far away enough that none of the Spiders could get to her in time, close enough that she could be seen, she looked familiar, in the sense that Miles could’ve sworn he’d seen her —

An officer ran towards her, ducking around flying projectiles and falling pieces of building as best as he could, and Miles felt his entire awareness pinpoint on those two specifically. Without conscious thought, he pushed himself up — they weren’t too far away, he could make it, he could save —

Something slammed into his side, hard, and Miles went crashing into an empty bodega. It took him only a second to scramble to his feet again, and he twisted around to stare down Miguel, who was tilting his head so that his neck cracked. Miles felt a growl start in his chest, low and rumbling, and Miguel answered back with a growl of his own.

“I can’t let you do this.” He snarled, and Miles snapped his teeth in return. “You have no idea what you’re messing with!”

He lunged at Miguel, trying to get past him; Miguel grabbed his arm and threw him back into the bodega. Miles didn’t fall this time, sliding backwards on his feet but maintaining his balance. Outside, he could just hear Gwen’s voice, her words cutting off mid-quip as she got hit, Ham letting out what sounded like a war cry that ended in the loud sound of something crashing into something else. He tried lunging again, but Miguel caught him again and threw him back. His claws got caught in the latex of his suit, tearing it where he’d gripped Miles.

“Out of my way!” He snarled, and Miguel drew himself to his full height again. He looked genuinely apologetic, which was great but not exactly what Miles needed right at that moment, thanks, but crucially — crucially — the man did not move out of Miles’s way. Miles threw himself forward again, managing that time to just get past Miguel; when he was grabbed, it was by the scruff of his suit, and he got the glimpse of falling debris, his father carefully lifting the girl —

“DAD!” He yelled, but Jefferson was far too far away to hear him, and Miles was trying to get away but Miguel wasn’t letting him, his suit was tearing under Miguel’s grip but wasn’t tearing fast enough, and Jefferson turned with the little girl in his arms, her red dress bright against the blue of his shirt, and Miles felt the tears as they fell down his face distantly; he was panicking, scrambling, but nothing was working, nothing was working, nothing was —

The building finished collapsing. Jefferson tripped over something in the chaos, going down but managing to just shove the small girl out of the way enough that the dust enveloped her as the debris hit the ground. Miles froze, everything around him going quiet. He didn’t think his heart was even beating, he definitely wasn’t even breathing, he wasn’t even fighting Miguel anymore. Miguel let the back of his suit go, finally, but Miles couldn’t bring himself to move at all; he dropped to the floor, staring at the last place he’d seen his father.

Distantly, he was aware that Miguel was talking to him, saying something, but he couldn’t hear it. He stared harder, breath starting to come in gasps, almost willing something to change while knowing instinctively that nothing was going to. God, the last time he’d talked to his dad was the block party, when he delivered those stupid ass cakes that read “I’m disappointed” and when his dad had grounded him for talking back to the both of them. Miles let out a cry, pathetic and longing for his dad, and then —

The rubble shifted.

#punkflower #miles morales #miguel o'hara #hobie brown #gwen stacy #jefferson davis #jefferson morales #the spot #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #part 16

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Just FYI for anyone uncomfortable with it — there is a moment of Hobie getting pinned by Miguel for a moment, if you won’t be comfortable please skip from “I know, I know” to “I can’t just — Miguel!”

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

Everything went to shit so quickly, Hobie barely had time to process what was going on.

The visiting Royals had left the kingdom, and nobody knew why they decided to leave so suddenly; it wasn’t any different from before, when they’d randomly showed up and nobody had any information as to why they were there to begin with. It didn’t really matter to Hobie either way; he had better things to focus on.

Two days after they’d gone, the Royal people, Hobie and his crew went to the marketplace. It was a quiet day, for the most part; Peni and Ham were playing tag in the very front of the group, occasionally weaving around Gwen and Margo, who were walking arm and arm together and chatting, just ahead of where Hobie was walking with Michael. A kid darted out from behind one of the stalls without warning, crossing the sidewalk right in front of the pair of them. Hobie, who’d been trying (and failing) to convince Michael to let him teach him some sleight of hand tricks (“it’s a valid skill to learn — think of the tricks you could do!”) and therefore not particularly paying attention to his feet, tripped over him and nearly fell.

“Sorry!” The kid squeaked, his big eyes wide and terrified. Hobie blinked down at him, confused, and watched as the kid began trembling slightly. “I’m sorry! Sorry!”

“Hey, hey, don’t be sorry, little man.” Hobie said brightly, holding his fist out so the kid could bump it with his own. The little boy sniffled, rubbing his nose instead and staring up at Hobie still; his eyes couldn’t really get any bigger, but they were slowly filling up with tears. Hobie frowned, wondering if he was supposed to have known the kid from somewhere — it was becoming increasingly obvious the kid knew him, at least. “Hey, mate, whatsa matter, huh?”

“They told my mama that if I helped, they’d give her food.” Hobie paused at that, staring down at the kid with narrowed eyes. He laughed a bit, still not understanding, until a heavy hand landed on his shoulder to pin him in place. The kid scampered off a bit, running behind the stall he’d come from and hiding out; Hobie lifted his gaze straight ahead, seeing Gwen and Margo staring at him with horror in their eyes.

“On your feet, Brown.” Miguel’s voice hissed in his ear, and Hobie stood up slowly. Their eyes were still locked, Gwen looking conflicted about what was happening. Most of the group had walked ahead, which meant that Hobie was the only one in danger of being caught right at this moment; that could, and likely would, change the second they noticed the rest of his crew there.

Hobie threw his arm back, elbow digging right into Miguel’s stomach with a sharp force, and Miguel released his shoulder to stumble back.

“Run!” Hobie yelled, booking it past Miguel down the street in the opposite direction. He heard, faintly, Gwen giving the corresponding order (“go, go, gogogogo — ”) and knew that he’d meet with his group back on the boat, as usual. He ducked around another guard, heard Miguel’s yell of frustration and knew instinctively the man would be coming after him. The marketplace was fairly crowded for a late afternoon, and Hobie was sort of hoping to use that to his advantage in some way —

Something slammed into his side and Hobie stumbled into the side of a building. He narrowly missed the corner of it, and made to go on until a hand caught on his own. He twisted down to see Michael staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes.

“You didn’t go with Gwen and the others?” Hobie hissed, interlacing their fingers together and taking off with Michael. They dodged and weaved through the crowd, a bit harder to do since they wouldn’t let each other go as they ran.

“Didn’t wanna just leave you.” Michael told him breathlessly, and Hobie let out a chuckle that was barely heard.

“Shoulda just gone with Gwendy, I woulda met you back at the rendezvous point.”

“I know, I know.” They didn’t speak after that, too focused on running, but it wasn’t able to go on for very long. Miguel seemed to have found a short cut, because Hobie was slowing to turn into an alleyway one second, and then he was getting slammed into from behind the next. His hand was yanked from Michael’s, and he went down hard with the weight of the captain on his back.

“Finally caught you, punk.” Miguel hissed in his ear, and Hobie threw his elbow back; Miguel grabbed it before it made contact with his stomach again, pinning it down to the ground. His weight tipped precariously at one point, and then Michael grunted as he fell to the floor by Hobie.

“Get offa him!” Hobie snarled, fighting to get up so he could grab Michael. “Run, kid, get out of here. Get off!”

“Stop struggling!” Miguel snarled back; Michael got up again, trying to push Miguel off, but he was stronger. He shoved Michael back several steps; he stumbled, but didn’t fall this time. There was the sound of running doorsteps, and suddenly there were more guards in the alleyway.

“Let him go, what are you doing?” Michael yelled. “Stop it, let him go!”

“Get that kid out of here!” Miguel roared, holding Hobie down on his stomach even as Hobie struggled underneath him.

“Leave ‘im alone,” Hobie growled, “Michael, run — ”

“I can’t just — Miguel!” Michael stopped looking panicked, or at least as panicked, and the tone of his voice went from scared to authoritative. Hobie stopped struggling out of pure surprise; he’d never heard Michael use that tone of voice before. Even Miguel stopped, standing up and taking Hobie with him so he could blink down at this teen that was barely half his size. Michael was trembling slightly, but he stood straight and sure as if that would make it less noticeable. “I order you to unhand him. At once.”

Miguel burst out laughing, looking at the rest of his guards as if to say ‘you see this kid?’ before turning back to look at Michael with a bemused look.

“You order me?” He repeated. “You order me? Under whose authority do you order me?” Hobie threw his shoulders back in a test, and Miguel held him firmly. Just run, dumbass, Hobie thought frantically, trying to throw Miguel off again, just get out of here —

“Under my own authority.” Michael pulled the hood back, revealing himself fully to Miguel for the first time. Miguel froze, which made Hobie pause, because why would — “Prince Miles Morales, of Nueva Araña, demands that you release Hobie Brown at this very moment.”

“Your Highness!” Hobie grunted as Miguel dropped into a bow, forcing him down again as well. The other guards did the same, Hobie could see them out of the corner of his eyes, but he couldn’t focus on that right at that second. His mind was reeling, trying to make sense of what was happening right now. “It’s been a week, we’ve feared the worst.”

“Let him go, Miguel.” Michael — Miles — the prince said firmly, completely disregarding what the man said.

“That isn’t possible, Your Highness.” Miguel said as he stood up straight again. “This delinquent has been sentenced to be brought before the king and queen as soon as possible to face the consequences of the crimes he’s committed.”

“What crimes?” Prince Miles asked firmly. Miguel hesitated, only for a second, before bringing Hobie to stand as well. Prince Miles didn’t even look at him, and Hobie felt his face pull back into a dark glower; the prince, it seemed, had had his fun with them.

Miguel glanced around at his men, then met Prince Miles’s gaze head on.

“Kidnapping the prince, of course.”

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #miguel o'hara #a whole new world au #part 12

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Found this prompt here and just couldn’t help myself!! This is silly, I think, and maybe a little off character, maybe, but I couldn’t help it. (>.<)

Also as an apology for taking so long with the a/b/o verse, which came out a few minutes ago (and by proxy, taking so long with the a whole new world verse, which should come out tomorrow as well)!!

Enjoy!!

When Hobie imagined being part of theater, he hadn’t quite imagined this; he’d thought he’d spend his time backstage, helping with costume changes or prop handling, maybe even just dealing with the set pieces and set changes.

And that’s sort of what he’s done, if he’s being honest, the past three years or so of theater classes and he’s done a little bit of everything backstage-wise; he’s done lighting and sound, he’s done set building and prop making (though technically the whole class was part of that, so…), he’s done costuming —

And then Gwen, Gwennifer, Gwendolyn (she hates when he calls her random names, it’s great), anyway — then Gwen insisted she needed help with her audition for their production of Cinderella, and Hobie tried to fight her on it but he’d lost. Which, honestly, was whatever because it wasn’t like it was Hobie who was trying to audition, specifically, and so it wasn’t likely Hobie was going to get casted as anything anyway, right?

Wrong. Apparently, dead wrong.

When all was said and done, Gwen got cast as an evil stepsister (how? She didn’t even read for the stepsister?), Pavitr got cast as an evil stepsister (how?), Peni was the fairy godmother (which…ok, sort of worked, that was fine), Margo was cast as Cinderella (that actually tracked, ok), Miles was cast as the evil stepmother (how??), and somehow…somehow Hobie got casted as the prince (HOW?), which…

Hobie tried to fight it, just a little; he didn’t particularly care for being onstage, he was much more used to being backstage with other responsibilities, he wasn’t even auditioning for anything anyway — didn’t matter. Peter wouldn’t let him step down or put, just kept telling him it would be good for him to break out of the shadows one time. Hobie’d scowled at that but, ultimately realizing that it was pointless, just gave in and let it happen.

Might as well, right?

They’d had a couple of good rehearsals thus far, mostly just reading the line from the script book in a circle with each other; they got in trouble several times for getting off topic or ad-libbing stupid lines that would never make it into the final cut (like when they got to the part where Hobie found the shoe after a very long hour of them all messing around and he said, “ah, I’ll let her go, not really worth it, is it?” and made the whole cast burst into giggles; Peter didn’t look amused but Miles did, and Hobie didn’t particularly care how Peter took it as long as Miles thought it was funny).

Honestly, though Hobie liked theater a lot (really he did — the fun parts of building the show before the live event, the stress of making sure things went smoothly once they went live, the joy and melancholy that came with putting on a fantastic show — all of the was great and fun, and Hobie was having the time of his life doing it), he liked being in theater with Miles specifically a lot more. Miles had been Peni and Gwen’s friend first, and had spent the first few theater sessions with them being slightly weary of Hobie while Hobie put his foot in his mouth continually around him, but they were past that now. Partly because it seemed like he had a crush on Gwen and realized after a couple of weeks that Hobie wasn’t trying to make a move on her.

Hobie thought it was mostly because at one point, Miles looked like he was ready to fight one of the other teachers about unfair casting practices, and Hobie had ensured that he knew he was on his side for it if things went down. It didn’t end up in flames, at least, but Miles seemed to be more open with Hobie after that, more friendly with him. And Hobie —

Well. Hobie knew Miles had a crush on Gwen, so that was that, wasn’t it?

Anyway, they’d moved on from regular script memorization onto adding movement to the scenes; the theater was booked for their use, and Pav and Hobie were play fighting on the stage while Gwen shouted encouragements to both boys (“I can’t pick favorites!” was her argument, “you’re both my friends, I want you both to win!” and Hobie had told her “that’s cowards talk, mate!” but she wouldn’t budge up) while they waited for everyone else to show up for rehearsal.

Hobie had just gotten Pav in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles into his hair and mussing it up while he shrieked, when Miles came in followed by Peni and Peter. He looked a bit resigned, calling them to attention as soon as he got the front.

“So Margo had some family thing at home and she can’t make it.” He said, and the teens groaned, “but! We can still get a rough start of the blocking today, and refine it more when Margo comes back, so chop chop!”

“Wait, then who’s gonna play Cinderella?” Hobie asked, jumping off the stage and falling carelessly into the theater seat. The one good thing about playing the prince, in his opinion, was that he didn’t have to be onstage all that much. Just the ball scene, and the final twenty minutes or so, and that was all. Easy, for the most part.

“Uhhh — ”

“I can play her for the beginning part!” Peni volunteered, throwing her hand up. “I’ll just need someone to play opposite of when it’s my turn.”

“Miles can fill in.” Gwen said before anyone else could say anything. She had a glint in her eye that made Hobie uneasy in a way, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

“Great!” Peter said brightly, clapping his hands together. “We’ll also skip some of the more Margo specific parts she’ll need to be here for, like the ball dancing scene and the monologues she has, and go from there. Let’s go!”

Hobie knew he tuned out most of the rehearsal in front of him; he didn’t really need to focus, his part was only the last bit right now (thanks Margo) so when it was his turn to go up he almost missed his cue. It took Peter elbowing him in the side for him to even look up from his phone, and then to the stage where the group was assembled. Gwen was giving him a wide eyed look, one that read ‘get up here now’, and Hobie only blinked at her for a moment before scrambling up onto the stage.

She and Pav were on either side of Miles, who was sitting in the chair Margo was meant to be sitting in. Hobie frowned a bit, glancing around and realizing that Peni had vanished.

“Just keep going for now.” Peter called out, pencil in hand as he watched the teens onstage. “From your line, Hobie.”

“Right, uh.” Hobie pulled his script out, flipping to the last couple of pages. Gwen smacked her forehead into her palm, loud enough that it echoed upstage, and Pav snickered into his palm. “I do request that every girl in this house try on the shoe.”

“Surely not every girl,” Pav said brightly, “for there are but two here in this household!”

“Then who is this?” Hobie gestures towards Miles, and Peter’s pencil scratched against the paper.

“None but the serving girl, who couldn’t have gone to the ball,” Gwen added, “for she had many chores to occupy her time, and nothing to wear besides.”

“I said every girl and I meant it.” Hobie stepped forward. “Whether she was there or not, she shall try on the shoe.” He kneeled down, blinking up at Miles, who looked like he was embarrassed. Unable to stop himself, Hobie reached out and grabbed Miles’s leg. Miles stared down at him, wide eyed and looking like he would be bright red if he could be, and Hobie pretended to put a shoe on him.

“It fits?” Gwen said, pretending to be startled.

“It fits!” Pav sounded, still, very bright and happy for being a stepsister who wasn’t going to be marrying into royalty.

“You’re the one I’ve been searching for.” Hobie said, standing up. Miles stood up with him, staring up at Hobie, and Hobie pressed his lips together for a brief second before pressing them lightly against Miles’s cheek. Miles squeaked, and suddenly everything stopped; Peter’s pencil against the paper, the quiet squealing that had been coming from Pav from his right, the whispered encouragement from Gwen.

“Ah, this is…a rehearsal, guys?” Peter said slowly from the seats, “there’s…there’s not really a need for — ”

“Right, right, sorry.” Hobie cleared his throat, pulling back and putting some space between him and Miles.

They continued onwards with the scene, though Hobie couldn’t bring himself to look Miles in the eye for the rest of the play and it felt like Miles couldn’t stop staring at him the entire time.

Afterwards, he sort of wanted to dip right away, but Gwen grabbed hold of his arm and was chattering to him about something or other while Pav was talking to Miles by the bottom of the stage.

With a heavy sigh, Hobie patted Gwen’s shoulder and made his way over to where the other two boys were, making Miles fall silent and Pav practically skip away from the two of them.

“Hey, Hobie.” Miles said brightly, shuffling a little and looking shy. Hobie smiled down at him, shifting slightly in place.

“Hey, mate.” He glanced away, to where Peni had rejoined the group magically, standing in a little crowd with Pav and Gwen by the door. “Look, I just wanted to say — ”

“You-You did great today!” Miles said loudly, and Hobie was startled into silence. “I just…I mean, you-you had, like, some real natural kind of movements, for blocking, you know, I don’t think Peter’s pencil stopped moving, like, once, you know?”

“Yeah…” Hobie trailed off, took another deep breath, and said it as quickly as possibly. “Look, man, I’m sorry. About the kiss, you know?” Miles’s mouth slid shut slowly and he gave Hobie a sort of unreadable look. He pressed on. “Peter was right, today was only the first day of blocking? Not even a reason for it, really. Should’ve asked, at least.”

“Well…” Miles took a breath, and it was Hobie’s turn to blink in surprise. Miles glanced at their friends as well, then stood up straight. “If you want, you can-you can get permission. Later. On…on a date?”

“Like a movie date?” Hobie asked, and the breath seemed to go out of Miles all at once. He looked less nervous, somehow, more excited as he bounced a couple of times on his toes.

“Yeah, maybe this Friday?” He added. “At six?”

“At six.” Hobie confirmed with a nod. Miles beamed at him, then leaned up as best as he could. Hobie leaned down a bit to humor him, pressing his lips together to hide the grin that wanted to bust out when Miles pressed his lips against his cheek.

“It’s a date!”

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #margo kess #prompt

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Out of one frying pan an into another!! (>.<)

Also sorry for the delay, I lost track of time!! Also, lowkey, I have maybe two or three more parts for this? (>.<) which is making this difficult for me… (TT^TT)

@hobiesgender @hadesdaughter2002 @lirulua

Masterlist

It started when Miles turned thirteen.

That night, he’d gone to bed and woken up around one or so, hot and sweaty and feeling sick. He’d rolled over in bed, trying to find a cool, dry spot on his bed, and growled in irritation when he couldn’t. The monos he had on his bed weren’t helping the situation at all, either, but he couldn’t just knock them off; Spurs and Rockets had been his absolute favorite movie of all time, and the idea of accidentally knocking off one of his toys or giving one of them away made him feel bad (sort of like he was separating them and they would never see each other again if he did; not only that, but what if they hated him because of it and started hiding from him whenever he wanted to play? It was very dramatic, and not something he’d grown out of just yet, even though he knew better).

Either way, he had been surrounded by them until his thrashing knocked several of them off the bed and onto the floor. Miles had felt himself zero in on those few that had fallen, and suddenly he wasn’t just irritated anymore; he was furious, a bright, red hot thing growing in his chest and in his throat.

He’d darted down without getting off the bed, yanking them up and behind him easily, and his parents found him like that several hours later: curled up over his toys, guarding them in his sleep.

Miles feels…kinda like that right now, swinging over New York with Hobie at his side. Something feral and protective growing in him, making him keep heading towards where the Spot was doing his thing while simultaneously trying to keep in front of Hobie, who shouldn’t be following after him because it’s dangerous, he needs to stay safe, Miles should protect, protect protectprotectprotectprotectprote —

“Oi!” Hobie shouted after him, keeping pace with him easily as they landed on the roof. Miles whipped to him, eyes wide under his mask, and Hobie put his hands up in peace. The soothing scent was muffled slightly by the Spider-Man outfits they were wearing, especially since Miles’s covered his nose, but it worked enough to clear Miles’s head. Slightly. “What’s happening, you good?”

“I don’t know, I don’t — ” Miles rubbed the back of his head, senses going haywire. He was focusing on everything and nothing all at once, smells muffled through his mask but sharper than usual, vision going in and out. “I can’t — my dad, he’s in danger, my — but I don’t — ”

“Ok, ok,” Hobie said softly, just as a portal opened up behind him. Miles was too far gone to really notice what it looked like; he acted on instinct instead, slamming into Hobie and knocking him down to hover protectively over him, the way Hobie had done when they were facing Miguel just a little while ago. Hobie let out a shout of surprise, though he didn’t move afterwards, and Miles felt himself glaring at the assortment of Spiders that had made their way through — Gwen and Peter B, Noir and Ham, Peni and Margo.

There was conflict there — another alpha, one who was close to the omega underneath him, a couple of betas with their hands stretched out placatingly, a couple of non-designated people doing the same. Miles was confused, disgruntled and irritated, and still feeling like something was missing from him. There was a wild feeling growing in his chest, making him lose focus on what was happening around him. The overlapping voices and sounds around him weren’t helping, drawing out more and more anger until —

The sound of crashing, loud and echoing, made him swivel around to see behind him. New York was falling to pieces, and suddenly the overlapping voices were quieted by the sounds of distant screams.

Miles didn’t think, just grabbed hold of the body beneath him and dragged it along with him as he made his way towards the explosions. There was a shout as he did so, but any call back went unheard; nevertheless, Mikes could sense the crew behind him, the others following his lead as they all made their way forward.

Where they landed was unfamiliar to Miles, who would’ve sworn he knew every inch and twist of New York before this. It was black and white, looking more like a child’s drawing of New York than the actual New York, and in the middle of it —

Spot stood there, looking around in apparent fascination and muttering something to himself that Miles couldn’t hear from where they were in the roof. He was spinning slowly in place, taking in every lack of detail around him, and Miles didn’t wait for anything.

He lunged forward off the building, dropping down so quickly that he managed to slam into Spot while his back was turned. The man let out a shout of surprise, and they both went straight into the ground. For a moment, Miles felt his head clear; he gasped in terror, genuinely concerned for a moment that he’d killed the man with the amount of force he’d hit him with, but then the Spot was throwing his head back with enough force to crack Miles right in the nose, and forced Miles off of him while he dealt with the blood that soaked the bottom of his mask.

Hobie landed next to him, followed by Gwen and Pavitr, then Ham and Noir. Margo landed in place beside them as well, all of them ready to back Miles up.

“Woooow,” the Spot whistled as he took them all in, “looks like the team got an upgrade!”

“Just surrender peacefully, and no one has to get hurt.” Pavitr called out, his voice serious. The Spot laughed, loud and clear, and cracked his neck.

“Well, since it is going to be a nine on one fight,” he drawled out, “that’s about as fair as I can make it.” He drew back into a fighting stance, “I told you, Spider-Man — you took everything from me. Now, it’s your turn.”

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #part 15 #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #margo kess #peter b parker #spider ham #the spot

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

I honestly wasn’t really planning a villain POV for this but inspiration struck and I couldn’t, like…not write it (>.<) so here we are, in another another POV — enjoy!!

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

“Damn it!” Olivia threw her goggles onto the sand, glaring unhappily at the empty place where the cave had initially been. She was several miles outside of the kingdom, several very long miles outside of it, in fact, and her one hope had been dashed against the very rocks she was now pouting at. The cave had collapsed in on itself for the moment, not to be attempted again just now, leaving just Olivia and one of her scientists with her as the only people to stare at the empty space where it had been just several minutes prior.

Damn it.

“Well. That was a bust.” She said plainly, packing her stuff back into her bag. Olivia groaned again, running her hands through her hair and yanking on the ends of it twice before letting it go. Her scientist looked unamused with her antics, too used to her boss’s weird moods to really care, and threw her bag into the back of the vehicle they’d taken.

“We’ll just have to try again.” Olivia picked her goggles up again, dusting off the sand as she did so. “We tried some of the harder criminals already, but there’s simply too many.”

“A lot of them just aren’t willing to do this.” Her scientist added. She adjusted her own glasses, flicking through the one tablet that still got service all the way out here — Olivia was willing to bet she had some kind of transportable signal with her, there was no other way it worked otherwise — as she went through the system Miguel insisted on keeping. “Especially since nobody’s ever come back. Makes it difficult amongst the ones who’ve been there the longest.”

“So, new route.” Olivia sighed heavily through her mouth, pursing her lips as she thought. “What if we manage someone newer, someone more gullible? Someone who hasn’t been with the rest of the criminal population long enough to hear rumors about this…little outing?”

“That could work.” Her scientist mused as they started the drive back to the castle. “If we caught them early enough, I suppose. But aren’t there criteria that need to be met? In order to even access the cave, we’d need someone who’s rough but kind, idealistic with a basis in reality, flighty yet dependable…that’s a lot to be looking for in criminals, I think.”

“Ah, that’s what it says,” Olivia waved her hand dismissively as they entered the castle gates, “but, I mean…I don’t think anyone I’ve sent down there so far has had any of those qualities. Maybe they’re not as important as we think they are.”

“I suppose not.” The scientist hopped out of the vehicle, leaning through the open window as she did so. “I’ll see you in a couple of days, ma’am.”

“See you in a bit.” Olivia ran her hand over her face again, sighing in frustration.

Wilson was likely to have her head on a pike, if he could manage it in this day and age; he was growing ever more and more irritated with her failures, though she suspected it was for different reasons than her own irritation. He was…incredibly short-sighted, Wilson was, and Olivia couldn’t really fault him that when it was giving her so many opportunities to further her own researches on the side.

Hell, she’d told him, point blank to his face, that he didn’t need to rely on magic and hearsay; if he’d give her people the chance, they could probably build something that could bring his family back (and honestly, it’s been over twenty years…Olivia would’ve thought the man would’ve moved on by now, but…again, funding for research. He was, inexplicably, one of they very, very few counties in the country making any sort of money. The amount of money he was giving her for research meant that she would help him with this project if it meant reviving the childhood dog he’d had for three days if he wanted it, with absolutely no complaint and a smile on her face.)

Anyway, now she needed to go though the criminal population again, just to see if she could get one of those —

She slammed right into Miguel and one of his guards, who were walking quietly as they walked, making them both drop the papers in their hands. Miguel glowered at her, and she narrowed her own eyes back mockingly before all three of them dropped to their knees and began picking stuff up.

Olivia had just picked up a paper with a picture on it — Hobart Brown, the top of it read in Miguel’s very untidy scrawl — when she got a good look at the picture underneath it.

The piercings, the glower on his bruised face, the way his head was tilted away from the camera in order to shine light on the bruises and cuts on his face while still maintaining eye contact with the photographer…

Olivia almost couldn’t breathe. He looked…

He looked perfect.

“Hey! Octavius!” Her head snapped up, eyes wide, at the guard’s hand waving impatiently in her face. She met her eyes, watching as she lifted a brow and, with a teasing tone to her voice, said, “you, uh…planning on handing it back or what?”

“Sorry, sorry, I just — ” She stood up quickly, brandishing the paper at both of them; she held both edges in her hands, displaying the picture prominently as if it wasn’t Miguel’s paper to begin with, as if he didn’t know exactly what was on it. “Who is this?”

“Just some lowlife punk giving the guards issues in the city.” Miguel snapped, snatching the paper from her hand. The guard sighed, sounding disappointed as she rubbed at her temples, but Miguel ignored her. “What do you care, Octavius?” Olivia felt her lips purse as she thought, mind going through different angles as to why she cared without spilling the plan out for everyone to see, but — “Octavius, I’m warning you…”

“I thought I saw him!” She burst out, and they were all stunned into silence. While she had the upper hand, Olivia followed through. “Here, on the castle grounds. Well, outside it, really, but you know, close enough — ”

“You saw him?” Miguel cut her off, showing her the slightly crumpled paper now. Hobart Brown glared at her from the paper, and Olivia followed him with her eyes. He really did look like the ideal candidate, just from the image alone, and she was so excited — “Him? Here — dammit, you scientists — when?”

“I’m pretty sure it was him, yep? Yep! Definitely him.” Olivia felt her head move up and down quickly. She was practically vibrating, she was so excited right now, she just had to — “recognize the-the hair, you know, that hair is very memorable, big, wild, all over — ”

“Olivia, when?” The guard was the one who pressed this time, and Olivia’s eyes darted her way now. She glanced to the side for a moment, arm crossed over her stomach as she pressed a finger to her cheek and thought hard.

“It was…the other day? A couple of days ago?” She made a face, like she couldn’t really remember accurately, “maybe like…a week? Ago? Time tends to move quickly, you know, days all blend together for me! So it was definitely recently, I think, but I don’t know exactly how — ”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” She said, frowning to herself now. “Hobie doesn’t come near the castle, not usually. Why on earth would he — ”

“The Prince.” Miguel said darkly. “He got fed up with the measures he was taking to fight the guards, and stepped up his game to make the king and queen listen.”

“But Hobie wouldn’t — ”

“Whether he did or not, we need to bring him in now.” Miguel snapped, and she looked annoyed that he cut her off. She looked even more upset when he turned on his heel and marched back the way they’d both come from, hand holding tightly to the paper with Hobie’s picture on it. She followed after him though, still trying to convince him that maybe it was all a misunderstanding, but Olivia barely paid it any mind.

She turned and went the opposite way, sending a message to her scientist about another trip out to the cave. Wilson was still likely to be mad at her about her failure, but she couldn’t wait to tell him about the success rate for this last trip.

She had…a really, really good feeling about it.

#punkflower #a whole new world au #olivia octavius #miguel o'hara #random unknown scientist number one #random unknown guard number one #part 11 #not like… #any punkflower interaction in this #whoops

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Back on earth 1610!

@hobiesgender @hadesdaughter2002 @lirulua

Masterlist

Miles didn’t hit the ground this time, but only because Hobie still had his arm around his waist. He did get jerked awkwardly, though, and Hobie’s grip tightened so much that it sent more pain shooting up his side due to the giant bruise on his side. He grunted at the movement, and Hobie was careful to help him down onto the rooftop they’d landed on; making soothing noises in the back of his throat, Hobie checked Miles over while he attempted to gather himself together.

“Where…did we go…now?” Miles asked slowly, forcing himself to keep his breathing steady as the pain dulled into more of a throbbing than a shooting. Hobie glanced around them, taking in the city skyline.

“Eh, New York?” He tried, and Miles shot him a deadpan look that made him snort. Every time they’d gone through the portal, they’d ended up in some version of New York, being told they were there didn’t really help.

Miles opened his mouth to respond back, something snarky he was sure; before he could get the chance, there was the sound of another portal opening up behind them. Hobie made a ‘tsk’ noise against his teeth, urging Miles up again before he was really ready to be going. Miles stumbled, then fell over almost immediately due to something wrapping around his ankles and pulling his feet out from under him.

He twisted, saw Miguel in front of the disappearing portal, and scrambled backwards. Hobie darted in front of him, snarling and emitting a dangerous scent that made Miles’s nose scrunch up.

“End of the road, Morales.” Miguel said, his voice calm in spite of the tense way he held himself. He spoke around Hobie as if the teen didn’t exist, and Hobie shifted so that he wasn’t holding eye contact with Miles anymore. Miguel let out a warning growl, a short one, that Hobie responded with one of his own. He didn’t move, either. “Nowhere else to go.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that before.” Miles quipped breathlessly, grabbing hold of the red glowing thing wrapped around his ankles. He hissed quietly as his fingertips were stung by it the second they came into contact, yanking his hand back. Something small and panicked began growing in his chest, and though he tried to stop it, it began reflecting in his scent. Miguel smirked at him, seeming to think that Miles was cornered.

“And we all know how that ended, dont we?” Hobie growled back, dropping to his knee in a crouch. He reached back slowly, groping the area around Miles’s feet before his hand landed on his leg; he never once took his eyes off of Miguel the entire time, and Miguel’s own eyes were narrowed at him. He didn’t move though, just watched for a moment as Hobie trailed his hand down until he got to the buzzing red wire.

“Don’t, Brown.” Miguel snarled quietly. “You’re on thin ice to begin with.”

“With what?” Hobie made a little noise in the back of his throat, mockingly sympathetic. “The Spider Society?” Miguel didn’t say anything, just growled quietly. “Did ya not hear? I quit, boss. Don’t work for you lot anymore.”

“Don’t — ”

“Go!” Hobie yanked the red wire off, and Miles scrambled back again. Miguel let out a roar of anger as he got to his feet, and Miles booked it to the edge of the roof. The fact that they were on top of a tall building didn’t even phase him — he shot a web out and swung into the city below, only remembering at the last moment that even though he still had his suit on, he no longer had the mask on because he’d removed it in the two seconds they’d been in Hobie’s world.

He barely had time to yank it on, swearing at himself all the while, when there was the loud sound of an explosion nearby. It slammed him into the side of a building, on his mostly-uninjured side, and Hobie landed just next to him while he got his breath back.

“What’re we thinking that was?” Hobie asked, and Miles shook his head as he thought. There was something weird going on with him, something that didn’t have to do with the multiple injures he was trying to heal while still do his work as Spider-Man. His hands were shaky, he felt nauseous and clammy, and even though he wasn’t exactly exerting himself the way he normally did, he felt sweaty —

Black spots began appearing, similar to the one in Mumbatten, and the city around those spots turned weird — black and white and undetailed, like the vision Miles saw with —

“Spot!” He gasped out, and Hobie’s head snapped to him. He’d put his mask back on too, Miles distantly noticed, eyes wide and white against the red of it. “It’s Spot, he’s here he’s — my dad!”

“Better get moving then!” Hobie lifted Miles off the building and tossed him into the air, and Miles barely managed to get himself together long enough to keep swinging. Hobie went after him, the two of them silent and focused on their destination. Miles even forgot about Miguel, put the man on the back burner of his mind in his determination. Hobie stayed close by, he could smell him in the air around him, and though he was panicking, the scent of the omega so close by was soothing enough to keep him level headed so far.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #miguel o'hara #part 14 #god this is so much longer than I had ever planned #love this for me #love this for you guys #(^.^)

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

The band, the music, the dance.

puts on sound 📣🎶🎵

#video

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

And Miles, who has never been outside of the castle before and is in surprise at how things are going!

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

Miles had never actually been amongst his people before. It was…a particularly eye opening experience.

Hobie was outgoing and friendly, though Miles noticed how warily he’d watched the guards as they passed him. The guards didn’t seem to do much, just sneered back at him, in a way that made Miles want to step between them (Hobie told him, on the second day, that the guards didn’t like him and definitely wanted him off the streets, but couldn’t do anything without actively catching him doing something against the law — squatting, stealing, things like that; it was why they were constantly moving ‘home bases’ around, and Hobie looked a mixture of proud and irritated with that fact). Hobie definitely noticed the way he was looked at, but he didn’t seem to let it affect him at all.

He greeted people as they passed him by, and though the majority of them ignored him some of them did greet him by name. Several kids ran around him, and even though one of the girls nearly tripped him, Hobie never seemed to get irritated with them. They also seemed to know Hobie’s name, and Hobie even picked some of them up and let them ride on his shoulders as they made their way to the food bank.

A food bank, Miles learned, which not only accepted food donations and gave food out to those who needed it, but also had planned meals from specific times (like Hobie was planning on helping with the breakfast rush, but it was likely Gwen and Peni would have the lunch section, and Margo and Ham would take care of the dinner people). It was run by someone named May, who sounded familiar even though Miles couldn’t place where he’d heard the name before, and he’d spent the morning helping so many people either find food in the giant space that was allotted for it, or serving people food with Hobie.

He met Gwen and Peni, which was interesting, and then he followed Hobie around the marketplace.

Even just going to houses delivering groceries was an experience, one Miles had never had before, and he found himself at a loss on what to do to actually help his people. Things were so much worse in his own home than he could have ever imagined, and Miles found himself automatically following Hobie to another place, a boat, to meet the last two people on Hobie’s “crew”.

Then it had been several days since that first meeting, and though Hobie had told him that they’d find a place to put him, he didn’t seem particularly interested in doing so; he kept Miles close to his side, throwing his arms around his shoulders all the time and talking to him about this project he’d done or that family he’d helped before.

If he wasn’t with Hobie, he was partnered up with the rest of the group; with Gwen, Peni, Ham, and Margo. They were just as active in the community as Hobie, just as well known, just as likely to cause trouble. Miles watched quietly as Hobie nicked food from carts to hand out to the homeless kids on the street, as Gwen produced actual clothes and necessary items lifted from stores to give to the people who needed them, as Margo followed people into their homes or even just the outside of buildings and re-wired some things that gave them light or air conditioning. Even the younger ones were available for help, distracting children while their parents talked to one of the older teens who were giving them advice on where to go to find shelter or food, and Miles —

Miles felt sort of like he was taking notes. If he could convince his father to do this, maybe the people in the kingdom wouldn’t have to worry about food. If they switched from doing that to trying something different, maybe the kingdom could recover financially.

He knew he’d been discovered as missing; knew it was likely he’d been discovered as missing since that first day, when he’d met Hobie for the first time, but now he felt like he knew it for sure; the caravans and security through the city as the visiting nobility made their way out was the biggest indicator he’d ever seen. Not that they were watching, as the other people in the community were — Hobie had scoffed at the barricades going up, though Peni and Ham had been a bit excited about it, and they’d made a plan the night before: Gwen would take the younger teens to watch the processions, and the rest of them would go about business as normal.

But they were leaving, and Miles knew instinctively that meant it was only a matter of time until he was found, but…

He didn’t want to go back.

It wasn’t easy, being out here. Despite Hobie’s best efforts at keeping his crew fed, he still ended up not eating at times. The places they crashed at were never the same, and they were often chilly at night because there were holes in the walls or the ceilings, or broken windows. It was sort of exhausting — the other day, they had been woken to one of the guards breaking into the house on the first floor, and Margo tripped over him in her haste to help get everyone to the roof so they could book it in different directions. Miles had never run so fast before, never felt the way it made his heart race and his blood pump in adrenaline, never done anything like that before in his life.

It was surprisingly freeing. And, despite everything, Miles found that he didn’t want to go back home.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #a whole new world au #part 10

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

And the aftermath, in a new world!

@hobiesgender @hadesdaughter2002 @lirulua

Masterlist

Miles winced hard as he landed on the floor, his back screaming in agony. He’d not anticipated fighting side by side with his counterpart against Kingpin (fighting against Kingpin a second time, even if it was technically a different Kingpin); though the man hadn’t been as big as he’d been in Miles’s universe, he was still much bigger than Miles was and was still hella strong. In addition to his back aching something fierce, his wrist felt like it might have had a hairline fracture, and he could practically feel the way his side was turning purple under his suit.

He twisted to his uninjured side with a groan, pushing himself up on shaking arms and near-immediately giving way to the ground again when he put too much weight on his wrist. Pain went up his arm, sharp and shooting, and he cradled it to his chest the second he was on the ground again.

There was a warm touch to his semi-uninjured side, and Miles flinched away without even thinking. The now-familiar soothing scent washed over him, Hobie doing his best to calm him down even as he reached forward again and grabbed his arm. Miles let him that time, drawing a sharp breath as he felt something firm and unyielding get placed on his wrist. It came out of him in a shudder, but it sort of made his wrist feel better, in a way, so he left it on; when Hobie dropped his arm gently against his chest again, Miles opened his eyes to see a dark brace on his wrist, supporting and compressing it gently.

Then he curled up again, still in pain but soothed by the fact that Hobie was nearby. He’d lost track of everyone, remembered that they’d managed to distract and hold Kingpin down long enough for some higher power to come and take him away (not the cops, Miles-42 was very insistent that the cops were in Kingpin’s pocket, he’d talked to a contact who went through someone else who talked to a different contact who — long story short, it might have been the IFBI or the ACI or whatever equivalent Miles-42 had in his universe), and that they’d scattered once they’d ensured he was pinned and they heard the sirens.

Miles had gone with Hobie, who’d called out a number before turning on his watch when they were a distance away, and the portal had opened with a bright flash. They went through, though Miles still wasn’t really used to the portal thing while he was completely fine, forget slightly injured.

So he gave himself a minute before getting up and realizing that they’re in a room, that Gwen was throwing herself on the bed in the corner, Peni also picking herself up from the floor, Noir and Ham already sitting at a table and talking quietly amongst themselves.

“All right, all right,” Hobie started off, rummaging around in a batter old cabinet that definitely looked like it had seen better days, “welcome to my humble abode an’ all, got some food if you lot want it, got some water — ”

“Drinkable water this time?” Gwen called out from the bed, and Hobie threw something at her. She squeaked as it landed on her, jumping just a bit and then clearing her throat with a light blush as she looked away. Miles snorted a laugh (he could hear it in the back of his head — Gwen’s awkward ‘sorry, sorry, it was…just so quiet’), and Gwen sent him a pleased look as he leaned against the bed. He smiled up at her, and watched as she relaxed just that much further.

“Fuck outta here with that, Gwendy.” Hobie shot back, still digging in the cabinet for food, “I’m offering it, right? Means next time shouldn’t grab what’s not offered.” He tossed a water bottle at Peter B, who had lifted his hand as if he’d wanted one, and at Noir who’d done the same. “And anyway, this is just a layover while we figure out our next step, so better eat and drink while we can. Don’t wanna send ya off to the next fight hungry or anything.”

“What’s it looking like for food?” Ham asked, “cause I’ll tell you now, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse — and those don’t exactly taste great, you know?”

Hobie shot Ham a dry look, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“Not your best, mate.” He said, and Ham drooped dramatically. “I can’t — ”

“Oh, but wait!” Pavitr called out, and Miles jolted hard. Pavitr had been quiet so far, nursing his own wounds from fighting against a Kingpin for the first time, but he’d perked up into the conversation quickly. “What do you eat for meat in your universe? If you’re all animals?”

“Guys!” Margo burst into the room, startling everyone by her panic. She glitched a little, then brightened to a degree that was almost blinding, her voice distorted for a second before everything seemed to snap back into place at the same time. “Too much-too big-too many — bright…Guys, Miguel saw that last jump — ”

The door burst open, and chaos ensued a second time as they scrambled to get away. There was the roar of a motorcycle, but Miles couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Something also crashed through the window just next to Miles, and he felt himself getting yanked up to his feet. They grabbed his most-likely-fractured wrist, and he yelped in pain, and then he was dropped as Gwen lunged off the bed and hovered over him, snarling loudly.

He was grabbed a second time, much more gently, and the bright light of the portal blew into place nearby. Hobie slung his arm around Miles’s waist, quickly but mindful of his bruised side, and practically threw them both through the portal a second time.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #margo kess #peter b parker #spider noir #spider ham #part 13

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Let’s try this another way — we’re moving away from Miles and Hobie for just one second! (>.<) a whole new direction, just for a moment!

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

Pavitr entered the castle to find it in a state of chaos.

He’d managed to sneak away from his own home for the day and head over to the castle, mostly in the hopes of being able to see Miles before the prince was taken back into the whirlwind social life he had all of a sudden; Pavitr wasn’t necessarily jealous of the amount of time Miles had been spending with everyone else lately, all the people who were over at the castle to vie for his hand, but he still missed his friend. A lot.

And he was planning on making up for that by hanging with Miles before he had to leave for breakfast with everyone. Pavitr knew he’d see him in the meeting later on today, but it felt like the meeting was the only time he got to really see him, and they didn’t even get to talk to each other there! It didn’t count!

So, yes, he came into the castle early, only to find that everyone was already up and running around. He had to duck out of the way of several guards, Miguel and Jess barking orders loud enough that they could be heard down the hallways. Miles’s parents were sitting in the sitting room as he passed it, Jeff looking more than slightly stressed and Río with her head in her hands. Pavitr paused on his way to Miles’s room, staring at them outright even though he knew it was rude, and debating on whether or not he should go in to announce himself.

The decision was made for him.

“Pavitr!” Jeff said loudly, and Río lifted her head quickly; she turned it to see him so fast that he imagined he could hear the snap her neck could’ve made, and winced in sympathy for it. He blinked at them for a second with wide eyes, then decided to go with fate and bowed to the both of them.

“My king!” He started, lifting from the bow easily. “My queen. Good morning.”

“Have you seen Miles?” Río asked, disregarding Pavitr’s uncertain greeting. Pavitr paused for another second, frowning as the words processed in his mind but still didn’t seem to make any sort of sense. He looked them over again, noting how they’d not even been given a chance to dress fully, and the stress that lined their faces. Pavitr almost didn’t want to answer them, knowing his response wasn’t going to help anything at all, but —

“I have not, no.” He said gently, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Last time I saw him was several days ago, he was with Billy and Tommy, I think? Out in the courtyard.”

“Miguel has footage of Miles exiting the palace late last night, going into the courtyard.” Jeff said, as Río put her face in her hands once again. She was muttering under her breath in what sounded like Spanish, and Pavitr found that he wasn’t envying Miles the repercussions of whatever was happening right now. “But not of him coming back. The guards at night didn’t hear anything. We don’t know what happened to him.”

“He couldn’t leave, though, right?” Pavitr said slowly, rubbing at the bottom of his mouth while he thought out loud. “Not on his own, at least — the castle walls are surely too high for that.”

“And why would he even want to leave?” Río asked loudly, pulling her face away from her hands. It was dry, though her eyes were rimmed with red, and she gestured almost violently. “He’s never been outside the castle walls before, never even mentioned wanting to see the city — where would he even go?”

“And everyone is accounted for here?” Pavitr asked, stepping quickly into the room when Jeff gestured for him to come in.

“Everyone else was in their rooms.” He confirmed, “and nobody left them at all during the night. The only footage is of Miles, sneaking around the hallways at night and going out into the courtyard.”

“What about the cameras there?” Pavitr asked, “I know there’s some around the walls, by the entrance…they didn’t catch anyone coming in or out? Or Miles?”

“Cameras are down for maintenance right now.” Río said pointedly, which made Jeff sigh heavily and rub his temples. “Which means that almost the entire area is a blind spot right now. Cameras just outside the door work, which is how we know he went out and never came back in, but we can’t see anything other than that.”

“I didn’t expect to have to account for a runaway son.” He said tiredly, “he’s never done anything like this before. He’s never said anything about this to you, Pavitr?”

“I haven’t had the time to talk with Miles lately.” He admitted, “but if I know one thing, it’s that Miles wouldn’t just up and leave without saying anything. He’s never mentioned going to the city before all this happen, not to me.”

“Which means our only option is that he was taken.” Jeff said firmly. “We’ll send everyone home, after” he raised his voice when Río protested, “after we search thoroughly. The people they’ve brought, anything large enough to potentially hold a person, their rooms. Thorough sweep of everything, and then they get escorted out to the gates and sent home.” He sat back in his chair, looking tired already if the amount of work ahead of them. “After that, no one in or out until we find Miles and get him home safe.”

“But…” Pavitr frowned at that, thinking of the kingdom and how isolating it would affect the people. He wanted Miles back home safe and sound, of course he did, but — “forgive me, your highness, but the people — ”

“I understand your concern.” Jeff said, “but we should be able to find him quickly without disrupting daily life of the kingdom too much.” Pavitr opened his mouth to argue, but the king looked like his mind was made up. He stood, brushing off the bottom of his shirt as he did so and bowed before the two of them again.

“As my king commands.” Pavitr said before swiftly turning on his heel and heading out of the room. Miguel and Jess were still barking orders, and now everyone was coming out of their rooms; they looked sleepy and confused, though some of those confused looks were giving way to anger with the way guards stopped at their doors as they opened.

He just hoped they found Miles soon, before causing an incident with the neighboring kingdoms. And before there’s any kind of unrest in their own kingdom.

#pavitr prabhakar #rio morales #jeff davis #jeff morales #a whole new world au #we’re going in a whole new direction today! #part 9

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

She’s hella late, I’m sorry!! I’m really not good with fight scenes. The final part of earth-42!! (^.^) took me a minute to get here, but I think I figured it out!!

@hobiesgender @hadesdaughter2002 @lirulua

Masterlist

It took several days of waiting around doing nothing before anything of any interest started happening.

Several days of plotting and planning. Prowler kept leaving, going back home so his uncle and his mamí wouldn’t worry about where he was. Either that or going to Kingpin to avoid his suspicion, where he would come back with reports that the man was growing more and more irritated the longer Wesley was missing.

Several days of Wesley trying to ask them things nobody was willing to answer. He’d tried different tactics with all of them; Margo reported getting asked about the technology keeping him contained, Hobie adding that he’d questioned the extremely different-looking yet strikingly similar watches on all of their wrists. He apparently didn’t know what to do with Ham, mostly asking questions about the fact that he was obviously a pig, which Ham played off of as normal and not an unusual thing in Earth-42 at all. He’d apparently given up on Noir completely, the two of them just having staring contests the entire time Noir was with him.

Peter didn’t really have a chance to be with him for too long, Mayday taking up most of his time when he had her, and taking her back to his own universe whenever he had a chance so that Mary Jane could be with her. And Margo, for all she was with them via avatar, also had an avatar still in the Spider Society; nobody seemed to suspect that she was helping them all stay off the Society’s radar as best as she could. Miguel, she reported, was so focused on finding Miles that he was unaware of the way the Society was running, which was apparently straight into the ground, in a sense. While not every Spider-Man was technically looking for Miles, they also weren’t technically not looking for Miles either.

Honestly, Miles had it on the back burner in his mind as of now; Gwen and he were still awkward with each other, despite both of their attempts to get back to normal, Peter B kept trying to talk to Miles or get him to hold Mayday when he could, which Miles avoided by always hanging around Pavitr and Hobie when he could.

And, of course, Miles-42.

“Listen up!” He snapped as he came into the dorm room, which was looking a little more and more like it was lived in than it had been when Miles first appeared in it. There was something more excitable about him than normal, sitting in the middle of the room without waiting for everyone to crowd around him. “It’s time. Kingpin’s pissed, he can’t find Wesley for shit, and now even Vanessa can’t calm him down.”

“So we strike.” Noir added, crouching down behind him. “What’s the plan?”

“Plan’s simple.” Miles-42 said, laying out schematics for a different building. “Plan is — ”

“Remarkably similar to our other plan.” Hobie whispered to Miles as they stuck to the outside of the wall. Miles could see Gwen and Peter B with Noir across the way, Prowler outside this time with them on a different side of the building. It was a bit bigger than the one before, though it just had the one guy puttering around in it, and there didn’t seem to be anyone else in the building. “Feel like I might know that guy. If there’s a version of Mattie, I might definitely know him.”

“He’s not just one of Kingpin’s workers?” Miles whispered back, and Hobie shrugged with a slight wince. His shoulder was still acting up, because superhuman healing still meant that Hobie had to heal, and Miles had been against him coming based on the sole fact that he was still recovering from being injured; in the end, he’d been overruled by Hobie himself, who’d bared his teeth and gotten defensive over his ability to decide on his own. Miles had backed off, but things had been tense between them for a bit.

It’s why Noir was with Gwen and Peter B instead of them; he had taken one look and them and muttered something about not getting between a lover’s spat. Hobie glowered at him a bit for that, yanking his mask on and muttering that he though Noir was supposed to be the cool one while emitting a sour scent. Miles felt his face heating up at the implication, and had spent the time trying to appease Hobie while at the same time keep his distance.

He wasn’t sure how well it was working; Hobie stopped the sour scent, but the comment was the first he’d spoken since they’d split groups. Miles knew that something was still missing though, and though he sort of didn’t want to do it, his mamí wasn’t raising a rude alpha.

“Hey, Hobie?” The other teen grunted at him, and Miles took a deep breath to steel his nerves. “I-I just wanted to say I was sorry.” There was a tense silence, and then Hobie turned slightly towards Miles. Just enough that Miles could see the white on his mask that covered his eyes.

“Sorry for…what, exactly?” He asked flatly, not really giving Miles a proper in but at least letting him say his piece.

“For saying you should stay behind with Mayday and Wesley instead of Ham.” Miles licked his lips and sighed. “I…I didn’t mean to, to imply that you couldn’t decide for yourself, or say that you should just, like, take care of people — ”

“But that’s what I should do?” Hobie cut across, turning fully now to stare at Miles. His eyes were narrowed, his tone pointed. He didn’t sound super combative, but guarded — like this was a familiar argument. “Because even if I’m Spider-Man, I’m still an omega. So I should stay back and take care of the kid. Right?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Miles yelped, nearly falling off the side of the building with how hard he jerked back. Feeling his face heat up for a second time that night, Miles scrambled to get himself upright. “No, nope, nu-huh, nah, that’s not what I meant!” Hobie stared at him impassively, and Miles imagined the way his eyebrow would be raised at his display of panic. “No, man, not even close, just…you. You got hurt. Your shoulder — ” his fingers brushed against the shoulder in question, “ — I got really…I was just concerned about your shoulder. I don’t want anything to happen that might make it worse. You’re an amazing Spider-Man,

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?” Miles repeated hopefully. He leaned forward a bit, and Hobie pushed his face back. There was an undercurrent of amusement to the action, though, and Miles found himself relaxing despite the situation they currently found themselves in.

“Yeah, yeah, mate, you’re forgiven.” Hobie said, body posture relaxing as Miles cheered quietly. Prowler lifted his head from across the rooftop and Miles could practically feel the glare he was giving the split second before he gave the signal.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #pavitr prabhakar #margo kess #miles 42

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

There are several parts of this AU that I’ve been really looking forward to posting, several of them that I have written out already despite being out of order. This is one of them! (^.^) hope you guys enjoy!!

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

After the breakfast rush, which Hobie roped Michael into helping with, Gwen and Peni showed up to take over for them. Hobie pulled Michael to the side, giving him some of the food he’d saved for them, and keeping an eye on the girls as they dished out food.

Hobie had to hit the market afterwards, though, so once they’d finished eating he’d given Michael the option to stick with the girls or come with him. Michael decided to follow him around a bit, so Hobie brought him with him to the market. They meandered around it, Hobie pointing out various food stalls and people, but ultimately Hobie got what he needed; not only that, but since Michael had decided to come along with him, he actually had the help he usually didn’t have when he made his rounds through his community.

Mrs. Aguilar, first, then Mr. Jones, and after that Ms. Bee; all the elderly in the community that were too old to do their own shopping but had no family to take care of them. Hobie checked on all of them at least, Michael trailing behind him silent and wide eyed the entire time.

After that it was late enough, so Hobie took him to the boat by the dried up riverbed to meet the crew, which led them to here: finding shelter for the night that wouldn’t end with them caught on their back foot with the guards in the morning. The building they were considering right now was brick and mortar, though the brick was starting to crumble, and some of the windows were cracked. Hobie and Gwen locked eyes with each other for a moment before holding out their fists, hovering them above an open palm before smacking it down three times. There was the slightly echoing sound of skin slapping on skin in the darkness of the alley they were currently hiding in, all of them.

The impromptu round of rock, paper, scissors ended with Hobie pulling paper and Gwen flashing scissors at him. He tilted his head back when she stuck her tongue out at him, but rolled his shoulders and strolled as casually as he could across the street.

Building wasn’t too big, maybe three stories max, and he swept the outside of it to check there weren’t any working cameras before ducking inside of it.

Hobie looked around the abandoned building, doing a thorough sweep of the three floors quickly and quietly to make sure nobody else was there. It was completely empty, as he’d thought it would be, and so he made his way back outside to gather his people. They hadn’t moved from where he’d left them, chatting quietly in the alleyway.

“All clear.” He hissed at them. “Let’s go before we get caught.” They shuffled into the building quickly, Michael detaching himself from Gwen to stand by Hobie again as they all made their way to the second floor (it was safer that way, easier to get an early warning and a head start if the guards did happen to catch them squatting in an empty building for the night). He still looked a little lost, a little confused, but he’d had the same sort of look on his face practically all day; he had to have come from a richer kingdom, and Hobie wondered what that was like for all of five minutes before putting it out of his mind. Hobie threw his arm around him instead, trying to erase the look on his face. Ruffling his hair to make him laugh, Hobie gestured to the room at large with his free hand. “Welcome to home base for the night.”

“Just the night?” Michael asked him, and Hobie shrugged his shoulder in response.

“Maybe two or three, a week if we can stretch it.” He said flippantly; he grinned over at Michael. “Best not to stay too long, though, gives the guards the chance to catch up and catch us, yanno?” Michael looked a little sad at that, a little concerned, and Hobie shoved his shoulders to get him moving. “C’mon, go find a spot to sleep ‘fore all the good ones get picked.”

“I got first watch!” Gwen called out from her spot by the window; she was curled into it in a way that meant she could see the door and still see outside of the dirty glass pane beside her. Hobie called out in response to her statement, laughed as he passed a grumbling Margo who by default got the second watch, checked that the rest of the crew was settling in all right, and then lifted an eyebrow down at Michael, who had stuck to his side and hadn’t left it at all.

“Where are you sleeping?” He asked him.

“I like sleeping outside, mostly.” Hobie pointed upwards, and Michael followed him up the stairs to the rooftop. It was a cool night, crisp but not cold, and Hobie threw his arms out and stretched as the door closed softly behind them. The rooftop had a convenient alcove, like a little shed which Hobie made a beeline to and Michael followed behind.

He wrenched the door open, peering around inside of it. It looked like a small room, with a window to the side of it, and not much else in it. Muttering a quiet ‘fuck yea’, he stepped into it and circled around it. It was dusty, just a bit, but looked mostly clean and was empty of anything else. He settled into the corner by the door, where he could see out the window, and Michael sat next to him. Something caught his eye as they got comfortable, and he glanced up only to stop short at what he saw.

“Look at that.” Hobie said softly, staring out into the distance of the window. They were apparently close enough to see the Palace itself, sitting slightly higher than the wall surrounding it, the windows mostly dark except for a few lights here and there. “Closest I’ll ever be to royalty, right at this spot.” Michael laughed uncomfortably, shifting slightly in his spot next to Hobie, and he threw his arm around the kid’s shoulders without thinking. “Ever wonder what it’s like to be stuck in that thing all day?”

“I dunno.” Michael said softly. “Gotta be boring, right?”

“Hm.” Hobie scoffed. “I doubt it. All that money that goes to those pricks?” Michael stiffened up a bit, and Hobie jostled him to set him at ease. “No mics, no cams here, kid. No one to hear me talk treason about the Royals, y’know.”

“I know that, but…” Michael sighed, pulling his knees to his chest and staring out at the palace with a forlorn look on his face. He looked so small, Hobie thought, and found himself wanting to protect this kid with his life. It was a little startling, how quickly he worked his way into Hobie’s little band; they’d barely met the kid less than twelve hours ago, and Hobie in particular wasn’t one to get attached quite so quickly, but, somehow, he had.

Kinda scary, to be honest.

“I just think that…it’s probably lonely?” He continued. “Like, everyone’s watching you, all the time. You gotta act a certain way, be a certain way. No room to breathe or feel anything you shouldn’t. Decisions are made for you, not with you, and…”

“Hey.” Michael blinked rapidly and turned to Hobie, staring up at him with wide eyes. Sort of like he hadn’t meant to say all of that, but it had sort of come out anyway without his permission. Hobie found himself wondering, for the first time, if the kid had come from the castle. Like, the actual castle in front of them, not some imaginary one from far away. Big place like that, had to have lots of servants. It added up, if he was stuck inside the castle his whole life, he had no idea how bad it could be out here. Hobie was really gonna have to look out for him if he was planning on running with Hobie’s crew. He smiled gently at him, putting his hand on his hair again. “You made it out, mate. No need to be worrying about all a that anymore. You’re free.”

“Free…” Michael repeated it softly, and then smiled brightly. “You’re right. Thanks, Hobie.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hobie nudged his head, settling back into the wall again. He pulled Michael into his side, letting the kid lean into him and get comfortable. “Go to sleep, got lots of plans for tomorrow.”

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #margo kess #a whole new world au #part 8