#ask-the-nnc

[boasamishipper]

God, I am so glad I am not the only one who thinks NNC wasted so much potential. I need to learn necromancy to get the old crew back.

But seriously, if if takes you three seasons to start learning stuff about your characters, especially in a show where the court seems like a second thought, there’s something wrong.

tell me why this has been new night court since its premiere

[bornforastorm]

new night court ships! abby/wyatt, gurgs/wyatt, gurgs/olivia for the otp bingo 👀

ok this is thrilling

abby/wyatt yes PLEASE. pay off the judge-court clerk THING! the inherent VIBE of being dependent on someone at work and also they Match 👏🏻 Your 👏🏻 WEIRD (but not your freak) (you’re both too nice)

gurgs/wyatt are doing a scheme that accidentally becomes a murder (someone falls down the elevator shaft)

gurgs/olivia now HERE are compatible freaks/dummies. the specific scenarios that exist in my head are in fact the Judge Leon AU.

[usagiverse]

Vesper-sama! Hell-o!

I was thinking, the turtles have the turtle pile, and we saw how the twins sleep together... but all usagis have a usagi pile? maybe in winter?

I have questions for the comic too, the ninja who marked Yuichi said "I smell" not see, why?.. and just in the next panel "jolt" ...but maybe is spoiler, so not problem if you can't explain

Btw the draw on fire is better...more dramatical? yes sir is better... and thanks, Yui-san looks cute with the strawberry sticker

Bunnon, I don't have energy or soul in this moment, but missed you and usagis... take care of yourself Vesper-sama

Usagi Pile! That’s right. Please take note of how “beds” are actually more like bean bags ;) It’s flexible, it’s circular, and there’s more surface area the more you put weight on it, so it fits more than it seems. Some have fluffy tops, some are just normal, and others might be fluffy all over— depends on how they like it, I suppose.

The twins grew up mostly alone with just the two of them and have each other’s backs at all times, so there isn��t a night they aren’t sleeping on each other. Yuichi snores the loudest and lays in the weirdest positions, while Shuji manages to sleep through a thunderstorm, so they’re kind of perfect for each other… Yui also knows exactly how to wake Shuji up if he needs a quick response from his brother, so he technically just lets Shuji sleep in. When they start living with Mizuki it causes a small, teeny tiny problem…

When Miyamoto is born, his parents are more than willing to pile. Yuichi joins in and Mizu can’t even protest, he’s related so he deserves it, and still living with them so he might as well. It starts to be more normal to sleep in 4 since Miyamoto is too young to be left alone. Once he’s old enough to have his own bed, they don’t pile as much except for winter or when he has a nightmare. Yuichi, at this point, learned to sleep by himself, so he doesn’t bother Mizu or his brother anymore. He might bother Miya sometimes, in Yuichi fashion. “Ohhh, My Nephew, I can't sleep~!” He would see if Miyamoto was awake. No response? Yuichi just ever so slightly worms himself over to the bed and lays on one end of it. There was a response? Yuichi would bellyflop onto Miya’s bed, which obviously gives Mizuki a heart attack if she heard about it, but it’s funny for the other two. Then they goof off, Yuichi would have done his job for the day, and they either sleep like that or he goes back to his room if Miya requests privacy.

Sorry, that was already so long and there’s still another part to your ask lol..

Dear Bunnon... errmmmm can you see their eyes ? ? I can't ... maybe it's just me but a giant metal plate over the entire half of the head might hinder vision just a little bit ! maybe you see something I don't, though.... or smell... (I drew this on my phone forgive me, my hand wants to rest but I wanted to draw anyway) In all seriousness though, yeah, they might be a little bit blind ! Also note the wording in this panel hmhm

"HAS AN HEIR." It's singular. The Ninja is actually.. unaware of Shuji's presence. Oh, and they're a lynx! Might make them a tag, they're really interesting to draw. I won't tag them by name since that would be a spoiler, but maybe #Lynx or #NNC Lynx or something would work? ionno Andddd, well, I suppose it would be a spoiler, yes... Perhaps there is meaning to this "JOLT" ? Can anyone tell for sure? Anyone know why they seemingly were .. shocked, into leaving the Usagis alone? Hmm.

I miss you too Bunnon, stay safe and take care ! UV and the Usagis will always wait for you and you're always welcome back here.

[vhstown]

ain't no love; pt. 5

"that's why i said ain't no love" (finale)

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SERIES SUMMARY: Miles G Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 4 / PART 5 / EPILOG. →

chapter summary: [MULTI-POV] Miles has been a ghost, so you decide to do your own digging. Your answer might have just found you first.

content/warnings: graphic depictions of violence and injury grieving, death

word count: 8.7k (WHAT)

a/n: hey 😁 there's gonna be a teeny tiny epilogue after this one but this is the official end to aint no love! thanks to @/qiuweyballs forever for proofreading this series wouldn't exist without him 🙏

"I need that edit by 3pm, Watson!"

"Got it."

Even if the office was filled with the constant clack of keyboards, or desk phones ringing, or even Jameson himself barking right by her ear — as he was right now — MJ still had to keep up her persona. Agreeable, non-confrontational, all part of company protocol. There was no time for personal opinions or rebuttals, other than Jameson's; she was sure everyone would start coming in tin hats if it meant keeping their jobs.

"You're falling behind, you know," he continued as she quickly clicked off of the email she was working on. "Going to that school fair of yours set you at least a week behind!"

"It was one afternoon, sir. And I'm all caught up, the edit's not due until—"

"The edit is due when I say it's due. You out of all people should understand how things work around here by now. Get it done!"

The man sauntered off without much opportunity for her to reply, a cup of coffee crumpling between his fingers that he probably had yet to take a sip of. The poor intern that had made it would be the next to get an earful when he did try it, she was sure. Too much sugar! Not enough milk! Did you make this with your eyes closed? she recalled. MJ had heard it all by now.

Jameson didn't really have the gall to fire her — she knew that at the very least. The article could wait, however. Visions was yet to release a statement about their fired teacher, and the article would just look like all their other ones — speculatory and clickbait-y with not very much actual information. The Sinister Six ones certainly did well though, always on their broadcasts and the front of their website. Even NNC didn't have as much notoriety as the Bugle did with its less-than skeptical audiences.

The Visions student, right. With a few pasted links and a couple attachments, along with a lackluster "Good luck!" tacked on the end, she hit send. Good to know kids still have dumb email addresses.

She didn't take being abandoned a second time at the fair personally, really — everyone was fifteen once — but she couldn't help but wonder what had happened. It was almost imperceptible, but she knew when a smile looked off. There was something noticeably different about you when you had come back.

"MJ, uh, can I get your business card by any chance?"

"You know what a business card is?" she had joked, but it hadn't done much to ease the discomfort. "Yeah, sure. Contact me if you need anything."

"Yeah, thanks."

You'd asked for articles. Specifically on the Chameleon, and on the recent Prowler activity. You hadn't told her much, just that you needed help compiling some information for school. Some... presentation. MJ wasn't sure whether it was a lie or not, but it was all publicly available information anyhow.

You'd also wanted any information on Visions "teacher", Garrett East. His arrest had been for identity theft, and nothing more. Not many had reported on it as of yet, given he was detained so recently, but you were an insider. He had apparently been your calculus teacher, and the man that he had stolen the identity of had supposedly gone missing a few months before Garrett returned in his place. At least, that's all she had of her article. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to send it to a random high school student before her own boss, but it also wasn't like the man had any real idea what went on in his company. It was a wonder they managed to get through the quarter.

It was just a favour for someone nice she'd met. Maybe it'd repay her in some way in the future, most likely not. Regardless, she couldn't help but smile a little when she noticed her phone light up, a "thank you" text under your name. If only she actually had a work phone number, and it wasn't just her regular one. Visions students making connections already, it seemed.

The time on the screen was 2:41pm. She was met face to face with her wallpaper once again — a low-lit picture of her and a brown-haired man with glasses, the two of them smiling, red faced and dressed like their college selves. Peter Parker, her fiancé. They were holding those terrible beers he'd sworn by. He was a photographer, but this was one of the only pictures he'd taken of them together. It was shot on a bite-sized digital camera they'd bought for college, but never ended up using much. Now, it was all she really had.

Maybe the Chameleon really had come back when Peter had gone missing. Maybe it had something to do with you, with Visions

You probably already had a lot on your plate. And so did she. If she had anybody to chase, it was Otto Octavius. He'd offered Peter an internship in Manhattan. She'd never seen the man herself, only heard from him how good of a person he was, how this was going to get him a job and that it'd be good for them. That he'd finally get some use out of his degree and get to pursue science instead of taking "crummy" pictures for the Bugle. That they could save up for their wedding, and...

That was in Manhattan. The disappearances now were in Brooklyn. And even then, it was coming close to a year since he had disappeared.

She was always running in circles, at the command of an old man with a head too big for his body.

2:43pm. MJ turned off her phone, sliding it into her pocket.

Better get this edit finished.

2:43pm. Wednesday.

Ideally, with a couple days off of school, you would probably be at home, or maybe even out doing something fulfilling with your life. Maybe you could've even gone somewhere with Miles, if he hadn't up-and-disappeared along with every trace of him.

Your unread messages to him faded to black, leaving you to stare at your own face. Maybe you could've used those extra days to sleep, if it hadn't been for the chilling glow of purple eyes or the melting disfigured face that threatened to materialise everytime you closed your eyes.

What did he even like? Comics that he'd mentioned to you once? Of course he'd want to go to a comic book store with you after you'd made fun of him for seeming to want to deal with criminals himself. If only he'd come save you from Brooklyn Public Library right now. You were certain it couldn't get any more swampy in here with all the Visions students scrambling to do their off-day work right now.

Reading through the reply to a ballsy request you'd given to the Bugle's head journalist, you had a few questions in mind other than the ones concerning your disappearing, sort-of friend. Was all this research really practical? Maybe not. Would it help you sleep to know that the guy that had been teaching you calculus since the start of sophomore year was actually posing as a man that had gone missing months ago?

Another very normal thing that only seemed to happen to you.

Maybe you just attracted bad luck. That girl in your history class had joked about it last year, after you'd bumped into your teacher and every single paper he'd been holding had fallen to the ground in one scattered disaster. She wouldn't let it go, and it appeared that your brain wouldn't either.

Or like that time you went to Oscorp on a visit day and happened to be the only one there, trapped with a shapeshifting monster and the Prowler on the 90 millionth floor of that god-damned tower.

Maybe it was bad luck, or maybe you were cursed — or maybe you just walked into these situations on purpose. Like right now, sifting through years of articles on real criminals, with nothing but a hunch or fifteen.

The Chameleon had been arrested, like Miles had said, eight years ago on accounts of identity theft, much like your "teacher" but also very little like your teacher. According to what you were reading, Dmitri Smerdyakov been dubbed "the Chameleon" for a string of carefully orchestrated take-overs of big companies after impersonating their CEOs. His defence had argued that the big names in these companies were gone because they "wanted to be free of the burden of running their own companies".

You didn't have to be a journalist to make a face at that.

There was no mention of shapeshifting, as you'd seen with Wellston and Stromm. Just a couple lousy identity theft charges that didn't add up to their total amount anyway. This guy had more luck than you'd ever had.

The only other person that had seen any "shapeshifting" happen was Miles, and although he'd seemed surprised, something about his reaction was strange. You couldn't place it, but there was some sort of analytical twinge in his eyes, as if he was solving a math problem and not looking at someone shapeshift for the first time. You didn't know anything, really. Miles seemed like he did, though. If only you could bump into him and wring it out of him. And maybe go buy overpriced comic books with him and forget about the fact that your teacher had been arrested and midterms were coming up and maybe even become actual friends.

If only you were that lucky.

If only it was that easy to move past, as well. The fact that someone that had been involved in disappearances 8 years ago might be mixed up with this, along with the recent uptick in missing people made you feel uneasy. Surely any detective would have put two and two together by now, but remembering the fact that the shapeshifter had turned into a literal police officer dissolved any reassurance that thought might've brought. You were in a public library surrounded by unoptimistic college students, parents with their kids and even some of your own classmates, but the feeling was completely your own, tucked away behind a computer screen and a booked monitor session.

You couldn't be scared, though. You'd already seen probably the scariest thing in your life, kind-of almost died, and been wound up in so much craziness you knew so little about. If only high school had prepared you for researching literal criminals.

"Your 30 minute session is over. You will be logged out shortly."

God damn it.

If only Brooklyn Public Library's computer sessions weren't 30 minutes. You didn't want to log back in anyway, not if someone had booked after you. You could go back home, the library had just been an excuse to get out, really. Not that you'd made a whole new email and signed in as a guest on the computer. Not that you were paranoid.

Picking up your bag and checking your messages one last time you made a beeline for the exit. Well, less of a line and more of a strange obstacle course through the swarm of people. And of course you had to knock into someone. Just your luck.

"Hey, sorry," you mumbled, hands raising just a little in apology. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." The person dusted themself off a little with a frown, before looking up to meet your eyes.

Rafael?

"Hey, it's you," he realised, eyes widening as if he'd just gotten lucky.

Out of all places...

"I... gotta go."

"No, no, wait. I need you to do something."

Of course you do.

"I really don't have the time," you whispered back, as he caught up to your advance towards the doors.

"Uh, hey, listen... You talk to Miles, right? Like, he's your friend?"

"Yeah...?" No...? You weren't even sure at this point.

"Uh, look, I need you to tell him something..."

"What, you're in love with him?" you spat, finally looking at him again. "Cause it seems like it. You're always talking about him. Always talking to me about him."

"What?! No the f*ck I'm no—"

A much louder "shhhhhh!" got your attention. The librarian didn't look too pleased. Neither did any one of the people who turned to look at you.

"I'm not gay, man!"

So, the two of you were now out on the street as Rafael defended his sexuality with nothing but exasperated hand gestures.

"I didn't say that."

"Okay, well I'm not. Damn, why are you acting weird for?"

"Your face is red."

"I'm black!"

"That melanin isn't doing anything for you."

"Shut the f*ck up!"

You rolled your eyes, hiding the way the corners of your mouth were starting to lift with a deep exhale. The poor guy was not very discreetly checking his face right now with the back of his hand.

"What, then? What did you wanna say to him so bad?" you asked, instantly making him retract his hand from his cheek.

"Forget it."

"No, tell me. You got us all the way out here for no reason?"

He gave you a look, before promptly looking away, mumbling something under his breath.

"Didn't hear that." That made him groan loudly. It was akin to a petulant child, if not a few octaves deeper.

"I'm... sorry."

Huh?

"You're... sorry?" you repeated, making him let out a huff.

"Look, I..." Rafael met your eyes again, his narrowing uncomfortably. There was something strange in his expression. "My mom's missing. I dunno who to tell. I know I messed up and I... I get it now. I get it. The thing with his dad."

Oh sh*t.

Remorse. That was what you were seeing in his eyes. Or maybe regret. Neither you thought you'd ever see from him.

"Tell him I'm sorry. Or don't. Whatever," Rafael muttered, kicking a bottle cap on the ground until it skittered to a halt by a dog, who found interest in it as its owner tried to tug it along the pavement.

"You can't tell him yourself?" you replied, brows furrowing. As bad as you felt, this was a personal matter. You weren't about to be a parrot for the guy that hadn't grown out of his bullying phase.

"You think he'd listen?"

"It's understandable if he doesn't."

"And what if he doesn't come back?"

"Why..." What? "Why wouldn't he come back?"

"I... dunno. Why can't you just tell him?"

Huh. "Why wouldn't he come back, huh?"

Rafael gives you a sort of reserved look, as if he's contemplating whether or not to lie to your face.

"I heard something about him while I was in that office. He's like... withdrawing from the school."

"He's... what?" Withdrawing from the school? Could he even withdraw that fast? "Why?"

"I dunno, damn! Just... forget it. I don't know why I even asked you man."

Rafael turned to leave, a scowl forming on his face.

"Hey," you called out, looking away before he could meet your eyes. He didn't turn around, though.

"What?"

"...I'm sorry about your mom," you managed, before he could go far enough. "I hope they find her."

"Yeah," he muttered, before throwing his hood over his head.

And now your friend, not-friend, study buddy was gone. The only person you kind of got along with at all outside of just one class. Another person missing. Rafael's mom. Maybe you needed to get out of Brooklyn for college. You certainly wouldn't miss the subway all too much, you thought, crammed in-between people.

"Stand clear of the closing doors, please."

As soon as you got out of the station and into the street, you were met with a familiar face among the people passing by. Instead of the Visions uniform, he was in a jacket too big for him, crinkled sweatpants and purple Jordans.

Miles. Calc-wiz. Mr. Disappearing Act. Withdrawn from the school, now in front of you and definitely already getting on your nerves.

He was looking at you, a hint of surprise in his otherwise smoothed-over features.

"Miles?"

"Yeah. Can we... talk?" His cheek dimpled with the awkward half-smile you'd only seen a couple times, but you were so strangely familiar with. You didn't know whether to freak out at him in front of a crowd of people or head home and hope that he didn't follow you.

"...Sure," is what comes out of your mouth.

Just your luck.

"~Ain't no love—" Skip.

"~Ha, sicker than your average—"

"Poppa twist cabbage off instinct..." Skip.

Miles was getting sicker than average of his uncle's playlist. Maybe working in silence was better.

He took out his earbuds, setting them on his mess of a desk and picking up the screwdriver again. Uncle Aaron was busy, "out of town", as his voicemail said. Probably doing something Miles wasn't supposed to be involved in. He'd be back in a day or two, as always. Never in one place too long.

Even for someone so experienced, he knew this was his uncle's first real "vigilante" gig. Uncle Aaron wasn't getting paid, nor was he working under someone trying to solve a cold case Jeff had been involved in with his colleagues. His dad was no detective, but always seemed to want to help out, and the police were getting desperate with all the recent missing person's cases. There was no real pattern, and sometimes people would be returned just fine. That's what the police were hoping for.

Dr. Stromm had disappeared for about 2 weeks, and returned to his normal work at Oscorp. That could be excused for a vacation off of work, for all anyone knew. Wellston, however, was still missing. Probably dead. Just a couple had turned up dead. It was so unpredictable that they all seemed unrelated, but the kinds of people going missing were all of use — scientists, lawyers, bank tellers. Wellston had been getting his PhD while teaching before he went missing. All people of use to the Chameleon.

Whoever his uncle was working for at the same time as all of this likely had no idea. He was probably working for that person right now, even when they had this case to deal with.

Miles had only been up to this after his dad had passed, and he knew he wasn't as polished as Aaron — not after what happened at Oscorp. Those gauntlets couldn't focus their energy, even if they were more powerful and he could charge shockwaves through the air almost instantaneously, and he had bragged about it a little too much when they'd tested it in the garage.

Now, he had faint lines on his skin from the excess heat, and had been taking them apart and rebuilding them for weeks in his room. His visor needed work too. It was way better in depth, but the resolution sucked. Even then, he was sure he could make something better than what his uncle had. Rigorous training wasn't enough to do this sort of work. He had to do his own thing, even if he was taking up the same schtick. Eventually his uncle's beard would gray and he'd have to be the real Prowler.

He was a good guy, after all. Like his uncle, like his dad.

By deduction, the Prowler was a good guy too. But he wasn't the Prowler today. He was Miles. The Miles that had been shouted at for trying to quit school again. The Miles that was fifteen and spent his days off building crappy gear.

Maybe on a day like this he could spend time with other people like he did in middle school. Go to a fast food place, or go to Micah's house to play video games, or hang around in some parking lot and run when he and his friends accidentally set off a car alarm. The sun was setting outside his window now. It felt like those evenings where he was reluctant to be taken home by his dad, after he was at Micah's playing GTA on Micah's older brother's console, laughing and screaming, Micah's sister shouting at them to shut up from the hallway.

Miles puts the visor down, walking up to his window and pushing it open. The air didn't get any warmer around this time of year, a cold wind brushing past his face as he stuck his head out to look at the city below.

Above him was the half-finished mural. A colourful backdrop of red and blue, and purple. His dad's face without the glasses, hat without the logo, the text outline without the actual text.

"Captain Jeff Morales. Husband, Hero, Father," read the ghost of the text.

His dad wasn't missing. There was no hope of him turning up one day, and that he could leave the mural unfinished and paint it over with something else. There was no hope that he'd wake up one night and instead of finding himself grasping at air it would be his mom shaking him awake to tell him his dad had come home.

His dad was dead. His dad was facing him right now and smiling like he did every morning before he left the house. His dad was painted on a brick wall, missing his glasses.

Miles knew he wasn't smiling for him. He was smiling for the city. He was the face of PDNY, captain for half a day alive and for the rest of eternity until Brooklyn forgot him, deceased. The mural had made him feel better when he hadn't been able to leave his own bedroom and decided to get up and start it with his uncle, but now he felt all sorts of emotions swirling through him. Regret, anger, grief, all of it at the same time — only to stop right at his tear ducts, tightening his throat.

He hadn't cried back then; his mom shared the pain of the both of them, even now. Even when they went to his tombstone, she was the only one that had cried as he'd kept a reassuring hand on her back.

Selfish, were the tears that blurred his vision, not heavy enough to roll down his face.

He sat, staring, eyes stinging yet soothed by the moisture. The sun cast a halo around the building, the mural in shadow and the city behind flooded in red-orange light.

"Husband, Hero, Father."

Was he a hero before he was his father? He had painted that himself. He knew his dad was a good guy. Was he a good guy before he was a good dad?

His thoughts were interrupted with the buzz of his phone in his pocket. There was a message on the notification bar, overtaking the text he'd been yet to reply to from his mom.

Are you the miles talking to me right now 1m ago

It was you.

Cause you're acting weird

And you just read my message without taking out your phone

What the...?

no wtf are u talking abt Read 4:51PM

where ru Read 4:51PM

His fingers hovered above the keys, glancing briefly at the gauntlet at his desk.

With a guy that looks exactly like u

You're the real miles right

He wracked his brain for something, anything as he ran back towards his desk.

6 liters per hour Read 4:53PM

What???

OH

Okay calc genius help me out please?????

He let out a breath between his teeth, shoving his gauntlets in his backpack and throwing on his gear haphazardly.

The Chameleon. Becoming him.

I'm at Marge's on moore st

ok just stay there go into the bathroom Read 4:55PM

don't leave til i text u Read 4:55PM

What are u gonna do??? the restaurant is empty

He's gonna look for me

He was acting so weird if that's not u then it's probably chameleon right

So you did believe him about the Chameleon. Or maybe you were the Chameleon and just being incredibly smart. He couldn't be 100% sure. Not like he ever was. Swooping out of his window, he threw his hoodie down to hang off the fire escape stairs before starting to run up the side of his building, shoes vacuuming him to stand horizontally.

probably Read 4:55PM

ur gonna take him outside in a couple min Read 4:55PM

Why???

just trust me Read 4:55PM

ill be there in 3m Read 4:56PM

The sky was now a shade of blue-purple, the reds and oranges dissolving behind the skyline. It was getting dark, and fast.

Okay

Manoeuvering through the maze of buildings with his shoes keeping him a thousand feet from being heard or seen, Miles headed for Moore Street with the little map in his peripheral vision. When he got there, all that welcomed him was a lone street lamp that had yet to turn on, a couple of closed local grocer's and a dimly-lit diner named "Marge", a discoloured space next to it the shape of an "s". Close enough.

Sifting through the modes on his visor, he settled when he saw the outline of two people. One strangely shaped like him and one strangely shaped like you.

He climbed down a little, dimming the lights on his gear completely as he receded into a small alley. The guy definitely looked like him physically. Tall, handsome, standing outside the bathroom, shifting on his toes...? Creasing my Jordans? Seriously?

Oh, yeah he had you to deal with. And himself, apparently.

leave now Read 4:58PM

Miles had about zero idea how to, but he needed to figure it out in about 30 seconds from now.

K

You made your way out of the bathroom, and he moved to the side of the diner you were closest to from outside to get a better view.

"...Gotta go home..."

"...Lemme walk you..."

As you left the store into the empty street, he could make out the slight twinge of nervousness on your face as you looked around ― probably looking for him and finding nobody.

"Hold on, I gotta text my parents..." You took out your phone, turning yourself a little to obscure the screen.

"Yeah, that's cool." Sounded almost exactly like him. Creepy.

go into that alley on your right and run home Read 5:00PM

Ur kidding

you gotta trust me Read 5:00PM

At that moment, you took one last look at your phone before turning into the alleyway. You were just a couple quick steps into the alley when his doppelganger grabbed yourshoulder.

"What the hell are you doing, Miles?!" you shouted suddenly, trying to pull yourself free, only to be thrown against the wall of the alleyway.

"I'm doing you a favour. You're not going to school anymore," he responded, his tone suddenly flat and nothing like it was a moment ago.

"What are you talking about? I'm just trying to go home."

His doppelganger was now featureless, his face melting away into the blankness Miles still couldn't describe. The panic on your face is visible from yards away. Miles just has to catch him off-guard. Without hurting you. He could do that.

"So you are the Chameleon," you muttered, still trying to pry his hands away as his grip wrinkled your clothes further.

"Ah, so you did figure it out. Excellent." That definitely didn't sound like him anymore. "You were always the most interesting in that class of yours."

"You... You were the one who was at those after-school classes, huh? And at Oscorp. And that... fair." That you were right about. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem is that I need a little something from your school, and you seem like the easiest solution."

"Couldn't you do that while you were a teacher? You got that other guy to be arrested in your place. Aren't you done?"

"It looks like you have me all figured out. Except for one small thing."

"What?"

Something glistened by your neck. Sharp. Metal. He had a knife pressed to your throat, the blade just managing to dent your skin.

"You're going to die."

Missing. Sometimes they turned up. Other times they were probably dead. If he didn't figure this out, you were dead already.

"I'm... I kind of figured that too, you know."

"Oh, really? Aren't you something?" There was something like a grin on his face, but it was too misshapen to really tell. "So unaffected. So controlled."

"How do you even... turn into these people? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Take a guess. An educated guess is always better than nothing." His voice pitched up into Wellston's awkward sing-song, repeating what he used to say in class. Near-perfectly.

"Why are you so sure you won't get caught?"

"That's not an answer, and I can't exactly reveal such things, you know."

"Not even when you're about to kill me?"

"Oh, unfortunately not."

"Go f*ck yourself." That made the man laugh. If he wasn't in this situation right now, Miles might have managed a smile at that.

"Yeah, go f*ck yourself," he muttered, voice being caught half-way into his modulator in a grainy, deep sound.

In an instant, Miles soared above the two of you, foot smashing itself right in the centre of the Chameleon's face, his knife clattering to the floor. As he stumbled back, you got up, taking the opportunity to run, footsteps hard against the pavement.

Suddenly, the Chameleon was stuck between the wall and Miles' knee, steadying himself with his hands against the brick. Miles could make out some kind of morphed look of glee on his face as his clawed hand clamped him to the wall by both sides of his neck. The lips and teeth were starting to form through the flesh, and Miles let the energy build up in the converter as the smile fell into place, cell by cell.

"You don't want to kill me," he stated, simply.

"Pretty sure I do." Miles' claws just scraped at the skin starting to form at his neck. The quiet whirr of his gauntlet starts to become audible.

"You can't kill me. I am everywhere."

If everywhere is right in front of me, I mean...

"I know what you're doing, Dmitri. It ends here."

"I know what you're doing, Prowler."

He finally sees it, what's forming on the man's face. It's him.

"One of my best students, I never would have guessed," he started, grinning wildly, with some sort of overwhemled excitement.

Miles felt his mouth go dry, his face under the mask paralysed as the one staring at him continued to smile.

"The DNA that I retrieved from you is that of... Miles Gonzalo Morales."

It was as if the shockwave forming in his gauntlet slowed with time itself as he came to stare. He was looking at himself. Smiling. Grinning. Crazed. Miles Gonzalo Morales.

"Kill me. I have my assets, and subordinates. They will end you. Your mother, Rio. The hospital she works at. Your uncle, Aaron."

The quiet whirr in his gauntlet faded into silence. He felt his hand retreat, leaving the Chameleon, still posing as Miles, grinning, unblinking, and flat against the wall.

"Oh, you've made a very good choi―"

SLAM!

Metal met with bone, an audible crack following as Miles' clawed fist met the wall, the Chameleon's face smashed between the two.

"You mother... f*cker..." he breathed out, voice choked through the sudden rush of blood, smearing against the wall as he lifted his face from it.

Miles pointed his gauntlet at him again, the whirring renewing itself to a high-pitched scream, light purple expanding between them and tearing through the alleyway like fire.

"Muerto el pollo." (Job done.)

The man's reforming grin was overtaken by the brightness of the blast, energy snapping into one focused point before hurtling through the air, right at the Chameleon.

Miles felt his ears start to ring. His body was lightweight. Airborne.

His back hit something hard, and suddenly the lightness was replaced with an erratic clawing spreading up his arm. The light flickered into sparks that led fire under his sleeve, eating away at his skin. Burning. The blindness faded away, eyes managing to focus. All he could see past the smoke was a figure approaching him, and a hysteric laugh that grew louder and instantaneously changed pitch.

"So confident," is what he could make out through the ringing in his ears that had bled through his head into a sharp, disorienting pain. "I almost thought you had me."

Ripping the burning gauntlet off of himself, he noticed something jammed in the converter as he shook the heat from his arm. Some sort of sabotaging device. He'd had just a few seconds before the burning would've made it past his skin. The Chameleon had planned this.

Looking to his other gauntlet, he noticed the same device, ripping it out before crushing it under his foot. Never twice.

Swallowing back the cough building up in the back of his throat, Miles made a move for the Chameleon, before catching his figure turn left ― running.

Coño. (F*ck.)

Launching himself up, Miles locked onto the man, hurtling through a series of alleyways, fluidly dodging every obstacle in his way as if to waste no time. He could not let him get into a crowd and disappear. This had to end here, even if he had no god damn plan and his uncle was sure to scold him when he got back. He wasn't going to let you or anyone else get killed by this crazy f*ck.

Miles threw himself down into the next alleyway, hearing heavy, fast footsteps, someone approaching in his vision.

Just a little closer.

SLAM!

He threw the Chameleon down onto the ground, noticing he'd already changed appearance.

That face. No, this wasn't the Chameleon.

It was... you. And you were looking right at him. Terrified.

"Please, please let me go," you mumbled, gasping for air in-between words... "I... You're the... Prowler, I― Please― The... That guy's after me and..."

Your head fell against the concrete, an exhausted look in your eyes as you caught your breath.

"Please. I didn't... I didn't do anything. I can keep quiet about you, I haven't told the police anything. About Oscorp. Nothing."

"I know it's you, Chameleon." You would've ran far away by now, he was sure.

"I―I swear I'm not. I'm not him, I don't know how to prove it to you, but... I called my friend for help and... he never came. Please. Please let me go. I don't know where the Chameleon is right now."

Another set of footsteps came towards the both of you.

"I'm right here, Prowler," emerged another voice from the alley.

It was... you?

"Come on. Weren't you looking for me?" the other you continued, half-hidden in shadow. "Come get me."

So the you on the floor... was actually you. And this...

"Please, that's... that's him, you've gotta let me go," the you that was on the ground muttered, exasperated. There was a waver in your voice. In the way your eyes widened looking at him. Almost like confusion.

The Chameleon was right there. Admitting that he was in fact the Chameleon. While he was trying to run away.

"Please," he heard below him, a quiet, desperate whisper in the silence.

You both looked identical. Even though he'd injured the Chameleon, the both of you were unscratched. You both sounded the same too, from what he could decipher. No real way to tell you apart. And his only answer right now felt like a trick.

He kept eyes on the you standing before him, barely making out a face. Something was there, in the way that you looked, the way you stood. Something strange, something he couldn't figure out fast enough to make any decision.

And then, he felt a little pinch. One that suddenly exploded and tore through his flesh, wrangling with every one of his nerves as his body seized. You had lost your scared, desperate expression, your face now distorting along with his vision into that of a smile.

"I understand," a voice started, ringing through his head as if it was everywhere. "You want to help me."

The pain was clawing its way through his body from a point in his leg. He turned his head, noticing the discarded needle beside him. He'd managed to ease his hand just close enough to administer it. You ― no, the Chameleon, lifted himself from the ground, before Miles felt his head spin hard with a kick.

"I admire you, your wit," he called out, letting out a laugh as he started to walk towards you. "Turning against your own savior. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

No, no... There was... there was no way you were working with him. There was no way you...

"You have proven yourself. You'll be better than... than that Garrett fool. I've changed my mind."

Miles rummaged in his utility belt for something, anything. He had no idea what he'd been given, but it was already running through his blood, reaching his brain and poisoning every part of it.

"Your friend over there is going to be unconscious in about half a minute. Why don't you take care of him? I'll be a fool to kill you once you do."

Get up, Miles.

His head throbbed with the sound of your footsteps, each one getting louder and louder. His limbs were weakening. He could barely lift his head.

Get up!

"Dad... Dad? No no no... Get up, get up!"

The gauntlet was slowly slid off of him, now in your hands as his arm fell uselessly onto the ground in front of him.

The gauntlet clipped onto your arm, fingers moving as yours did. He felt the metal claws just scrape his helmet, a faint clink echoing through his skull.

Miles didn't want to look at your face, but he couldn't find it in him to look anywhere else. There was that something from before in your expression that he couldn't quite place, and he still didn't have an answer. It bothered him, for some damn reason. Not the fact that he had his own weapon pointed to his brain as he was losing consciousness. Not the fact that he couldn't move. Not the fact that his last thoughts were about the look on your face and not his mom, or his dad.

Whirrr...

That brightness that the Chameleon had been staring at before was now staring right at him. Overwhelming, blinding, all-encompassing. He felt the faint heat on his skin, as his eyelids grew heavy. Something like warmth in contrast to the cold metal, if just for a second. Something like knowing in your eyes. Something hopeful, saving, loving. Even if just for a second. Even if his brain had made it up to let him succumb.

He wished he could smile, and not be terrified. He wished he could be like his dad, who had smiled.

"Take care of your mom for me, Miles. I ain't gonna be around forever."

And he reached for his helmet. To show you his face, to hope you'd stop once you saw him. He reached, before his arm fell limp beside him once more.

Sorry. I'm so sorry.

"Hey, hello?"

"Hey!"

"Prowler? ...Are you dead?"

God, what did you have to do if he didn't respond...? Breathing, pulse...

"What the..." you heard, before he exploded into a painful-sounding coughing fit, tinged by some kind of voice changer. The Prowler lifted his head, and you could make out az kind of shadow where his eyes were behind the dull, unlit screen. "Huh...?"

"Hey, uh. The... Chameleon..."

Gesturing to the pile on the floor, the Prowler seemed to tense a little at the sight. It was the Chameleon, or... what was left of him. His face charred and caved in by the likes of a certain purple energetic blast. Right, you, had to explain that, the de-powered weapon in your hands.

"Sorry for... I didn't know what I was doing, that was―"

"You killed him?" came out a quiet, modulated voice.

That was...

You killed him. With the Prowler's weapon.

You were defending yourself. You were defending him. That man was a...

Thunk!

The metallic arm hit the ground as it rolled out of your arms, looking into the hollow shadows of the Prowler's eyes.

You didn't know anything about any of these people, and you were deep into their world. It was one that you had never thought you'd see, and now you had nothing to dig yourself out of it. You decided to trick him and when Miles was too late to figure it out you had...

You had killed someone. Turned the blast on him within a split second, watching it sear through his skull in a merciless flurry, stab after stab of burning hot energy wracking more and more screams. Right until the weapon had run out of energy. Until your finger grew numb from the trigger inside the device and the alleyway had gone silent. The man that had haunted your mind for months was unmoving before you, ripped of all features, all life.

Murder. Manslaughter. This man had connections. They'd come after you. After everyone you knew and loved. After Miles.

You should've stayed home.

The ache of adrenaline surged through your heart, your muscles, begging. Begging you to move. To run. To get up.

Get up. Run. Run away. Scream for help. Do something.

You felt the scratch of brick, arms enveloping the rest of you as you backed into the wall.

Hide.

All the breath in your lungs seemed to leave at once as you desperately tried to breathe it back in, hearing the air rush in and out of your mouth over and over. It was loud. So loud. The blast had been so loud. He had screamed so loud―

"Hey."

The hand on your shoulder was warm, free of any metal.

"It's... alright," you heard him say.

How could he say that?

"How can you say that?" Your voice was muffled. Wavering. Pathetic.

Would they believe you? With that stupid, pathetic, voice, whoever it was that found you ― would they believe you?

"How can you say that...?" you repeated, pressing your face further into your knees. The touch on your tensed shoulder felt offensive. Mocking.

"You're gonna be okay."

"How am I gonna be okay?"

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"How do you know that?"

You were looking at him now, breath hitched, eyes wide. You tried to sound frustrated, angry, but all that came out of your throat was a sound that told the Prowler "I am scared" in every language.

The Prowler hadn't killed you. He was comforting you. In any other circumstance, you could've laughed at the thought. To your knowledge, this Prowler hadn't killed anyone, or put everyone he loved in severe danger. Maybe you were worse than him.

"Why won't you answer any of my questions...?" you mumbled hopelessly, burying your face in your hands. You could smell concrete, dust, and ash ― invisible, yet incriminating.

Hiss... Click!

You felt hands wrap around your wrists, carefully pulling yours away from your own face. Just as you looked up, you could see the mask dismantling itself, disappearing behind his head.

What was left was a face. The Prowler's face.

No, this is...

Brown, maybe green-ish eyes. They were a smooth coppery colour under the dim light, bright among the shadows underneath his eyes. A black-red was drying on his skin, under his nose and creeping past his cracked lips. Two braids, coming unfurled at the ends, coming all the way back up to the top of his head. A soft face with harshness painted all over it. An exhausted, pained and worried expression.

"Hey, pana."

The face you had so prayed to see blurred into a watery mess as you threw your arms around him, squeezing your eyes shut against his jacket. His arms followed, settling over yours, one palm circling your back and the other settled between your shoulders.

You didn't think you'd held anyone tighter. You didn't know someone could hold to the point that their arms were shaking around you.

"Miles..."

You felt his head rest beside yours, the contours of his face melding against your shoulder. Warmth was running down your face ― blooming in your chest.

"I've got you."

"Mij— Oh... Oh my!"

You'd scrubbed your eyes hard as you could, and Miles had fixed himself up into a giant hoodie and jeans, but you were almost certain that the woman in front of you was utterly convinced that the both of you had been run over by a subway train. Miles' mom, standing with a vacuum cleaner that contributed nothing to the silence. Her jaw was inching closer to the floor the longer the silence stretched out.

"Uh... hola, mami. This is my friend," Miles offered, not sounding any less like he'd been met face first with the headlights of New York public transportation.

"Hi, Mrs... Morales."

The woman propped the vacuum cleaner against the wall, letting out a quiet sigh. She had beautiful curly hair, and was now wearing the sharp-softness of her son's face in a polite, and concerned smile. You didn't want to turn to check if Miles still had blood on his face.

"Is this a bad time...?" you started. "I can—"

"Oh, no, no, I just... I haven't even made dinner yet, I didn't expect—" The woman lets out another breath, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so rude. What are you two... What have you been up to?"

"We just... you know," Miles gestured with his hands, charading less than nothing in the air.

"You know...?" she replied, eyes squinting.

"I uh, already ate. Don't worry about it, Mrs. Morales," you continued, giving her what you hoped looked like a smile on your face. "Miles just wanted to show me something. It'll be quick."

"Uh, yeah. That."

"You're not staying for dinner?" she called out, as Miles dragged you into his room. "I was gonna make pastelón—"

"I'll come help you in a sec, mami."

Miles closed the door to his room, and the two of you shared a look as you heard the long, muffled sigh from outside. With the sound of the vacuum cleaner whirring in the hallway and disappearing into another room, the two of you sat on the edge of the twin-size bed, the frame creaking uncomfortably.

The room wasn't particularly big, crowded with posters and various newspaper clippings — many about the Prowler. There were crates tucked away beside his closet, faces of toy figurines and comic books peeking out of them. A lone screwdriver sat on his desk, a stack of notebooks beside it. The backpack you'd seen him take to school was hanging on the back of his chair, a study guide for "Invisible Man" peeking out of it. All that was on his bedside table other than papers was a frame. A young boy, missing a tooth, on the shoulders of an older man, the two of them beaming through the picture.

"You hurt or anything?" he asked quietly, making you remember that he was next to you. "Like, injured?"

"No, I'm... fine." You took half of a breath before your lungs started to ache, swallowing back the dryness of your throat. Mostly fine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. My mom's a nurse, so... I kinda..."

"Oh... Yeah, yeah." Huh.

Mrs. Morales certainly didn't seem to know about her son's... part-time job.

You noticed a set of blueprints on the wall, resembling the clawed arms he had stashed away without you or his mom seeing.

"You made those...? The claw-glove things?"

"They're gauntlets."

It was somewhat like the tone of voice he used when he was explaining a calculus question — not condescending, but somewhat tired and fed-up.

"Right..." Gauntlets. Sure.

The vacuuming stopped, and a few moments later the clinking of cookware could be heard.

"You staying for dinner?"

"Huh...? Um, I don't wanna bother your mom."

"Please...? I'm gonna get it if you go home without eating." Something about that made you laugh, even if it was a half-hearted sound that fizzled out before it could really sound like one.

"She seems nice," you mused.

"She is. She tries."

Something of a smile tugged at his lips as a quick snort of air left him, his eyes now on yours.

"I got a lot of explaining to do, huh?" His smile faded a little as the words left his mouth.

"You do. Maybe... Maybe not now, though."

"Yeah. Not now."

In your peripheral, you could make out his arm inching closer to yours. The tips of his fingers just brushed your knuckles, leaving just a spark of feeling against your skin. His throat bobbed a little as he swallowed, and—

"Miles, ¡ven a cortame estas cebollas! (Come and cut these onions for me!)"

"Oh! Um— Okay!"

The bed squeaked again as he stood up, and you could tell he was biting the inside of his cheek. You closed your hand as the lingering feeling of his touch disappeared.

"...You sure I can stay for dinner?"

"You sure you just asked me that?"

"Alright, alright."

You gave him a little more of a smile, and you could see him fighting to not return it as he looked back at you.

"i'm gonna... go and—"

"Yeah, you do that, Miles."

He handed you his phone, or, a phone.

"You can... play some music, if you want. It's connected to that speaker. Just not too loud, yeah?"

You noticed there was no SIM card in it. He pointed to the little speaker sitting by the window sill, peeking out behind a hung up jacket and a school blazer.

"...Thanks."

The door to his room shut, and the murmured voices of Miles and his mom faded as you selected a song. You recognised some of them, ones you'd heard people sing along to on the street or in the cafeteria of your school. This one stood out, though.

It started slow, and the man's voice was rich, full of life and emotion. It was strangely melancholic against the uplifting instrumentals.

"~Ain't no love, in the heart of the city..."

You stood up, walking to the window to get a better listen of it. Lifting up the blinds, your eyes caught something in the darkness. A giant painting of Jefferson Morales. Miles' dad. It was half-finished, but his smile was there.

You couldn't help but think how he looked so much like Miles.

"~Ain't no love, cause you ain't around..."

An almost inaudible rustle caught your attention as you tuned to look at the jacket you had touched. Something had fallen out of its pocket while you were trying to move the speaker. It was a piece of paper, something written on it.

Reaching down, you moved to put it back in the pocket, before noticing what was peeking out of it.

Unfolding just the edge of it, you recognised the title of a Spanish lesson you had a while ago, back when Rafael had been bothering you endlessly. Opening it up entirely, you found what he'd been making fun of Miles for.

There were a series of drawings around scrawled Spanish vocabulary and messy grammar rules. One was of your teacher, Mrs. Hernández, turned away, writing on the board. The other was of the picture of the landmark in the article you had been given, "Arco de"-something. The colour of the building was done in yellow highlighter, but looked rather technical and accurate nonetheless.

The one on the back made you almost drop the paper.

It was you, with such a likeness. Some lines had been erased and re-drawn around your mouth, as if he'd been trying to decide on an expression. Within the creases of the paper you were holding right now, though, you found yourself smiling — just slightly, like if you'd been laughing at something with the rest of your class. Your head was tilted slightly downwards. The drawing version of you was just a little cuter than you were sure you looked like, Miles' stylisation making your eyes shine a little and your lips curve just the right way.

By the time your stomach had stopped fluttering, the song was coming to a close. You quickly re-crumpled the paper and carefully put it back into the jacket, walking over to sit on his bed again.

"~Ain't no love, in the heart of this town..."

"...You never come back this late, mijo..."

"...We just bumped into each other and started talking. You know, like how at the store..."

"...Your tías are different, Miles..."

He really does have a lot to explain, you thought to yourself, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from lifting up, just slightly.

Your questions would just have to wait until after dinner.

my lovely jubly taglist: @noetophat @sakura-onesan @bakugouswaif @phoenixinthefiles @daydreaming-en-pointe @sp1derw1re @kvvrc @spookyscaryskeletrans @proudgojofucker  @spam-1 @playboifenty @hobiebrownismygod @kissingkzuha @nyumeii @uwukiity @itzmeme @shittingonyourgrave @theyluvbix @kezibear @theseustimes

thank you for reading! epilogue hopefully coming soon 👍 reblogs + replies are appreciated 💗 find the rest of my writing in my atsv masterlist here!

[creepypastalemonbloglol]

Toby x NNC

(NNC stands for not named character, not a Y/N, not a named character, just a person XD. For context Toby was a prostitute)

Twenty-one-year-old Toby strutted down a hotel hall. He's in a hoodie and jeans but he also has white heels on. He hummed, smiling softly. He walked up to a door and knocked. A man opened the door and stared. Toby pushed him in and strutted in. He pulled the hoodie off with one hand and unbuttoned his jeans. Under the hoodie and jeans was silk and lace lingerie. All white. He knelt down and looked up at the man with innocent eyes. "Right to the point, like it." the man said, smiling.

He took Toby's chin, opening his mouth softly. He set his thumb on Toby's tongue, smiling. Toby whined, smiling. "Good boy.." the man hummed.

Toby smiled and the man had him stand up. He started to feel him, rubbing his stomach and hips. Toby sighed, leaning into the man's touch. His kink, pleasuring other's, he loves it. The man stared at the gash in his cheek and the scars on his body curiously but said nothing. One stood out though. Six large claw like scars split between both shoulder blades. The man started to lick each one, from the bottom to the top, humming praise. "So pretty, I love your scars, their so stunning." he grunted.

Toby's whole face went red and he practically melted into the man. The man's hand went down to Toby's groin, pulling his suddenly rock hard member out the white, silk panties. He started to stroke it, slow and soft, still mumbling praise. Toby closed his dark eyes, smiling. "God, your stunning." the man continued.

He carefully took Toby over to the hotel bed and laid him down, oh so soft, his hands touching Toby so soft, he almost couldn't feel it, almost. Each touch is a tease, making Toby slowly become more desperate for more. For this strangers sweet soft words. The man chuckled and kissed Toby softly on the head before sighing. He laid down and pulled Toby close. He started to kiss his neck and stroke him ever so softly. Toby sighed happily, moaning softly. The man then undone his pants and pulled his own erection out. Toby heard a condom be opened. The man pulled the panties down and started to slowly slide into Toby. Toby gasped, the only thing this man needs to improve, learning prep. He started to slowly thrust into Toby, grinding deep, shifting till he finds Toby's prostate. Toby gasped when he did, his back arching. He chuckled and stayed how he is, stroking Toby again. Toby took a pillow and started to hug it, stuffing his lower face in it. "Mmmm, m-more." Toby whined.

The man chuckled and speed up a bit. Toby nodded and the man started to praise Toby again. "Your doing so well, so sweet and cute, do you like that? I love it." the man said.

Toby gasped at those last three words. "Oh? You like that I love it?" he asked.

Toby nodded. The man smiled. "Well, good, cause your doing so good, you deserve to feel proud, making me feel so good." the man continued.

Toby bit onto the pillow as he came. The man chuckled and kept going making Toby whine. "It's okay, it's alright, I'm so close, I'm so fucking close." the man said.

He soon was loosing his perfect pace, growling.

"G-God, so perfect, so pretty." he growled in Toby's ear.

He gasped and suddenly slammed his hips into Toby. Toby gasped, whimpering. The man pulled out and started to kiss Toby softly.

"Thank you so much, you did so well, I'll have to pay you extra." the man chuckled.

Toby whined happily, it's not to common he gets people who pick up what he likes and does that, but when they do it's drives him insane. "Marry me..." Toby mumbled. The man laughed and got his wallet to get Toby's pay.

[ask-the-nnc]

1/? - Sailor : Bi

[jesus-christ-super-ace]

for the 3 things 1. Whose's your campaign manager? 2. Do you think Davey's paranoid because he won't let the other newsies control the NNC website? 3. is the NNC like the GOP?

1. idk

2. ofc

3. no

[jason-j-lake]

☕

“I don’t trust like that bro”

[boredfaneliza]

Chapter 0.5

I was gonna make Chapter 1 Part 1, but I got sidetracked.

My mom's friend came over after spending 6 years at prison.

The Wi-Fi decided to die until it was working at 3 o'clock.

But here is the tutorial side what I am going introduced.

Anyways, please enjoy!

Ohm lies awake on the bed and Amelia’s words flow through his head.   

“Will die this very dawn...”

“I might die at dawn, huh?” He mumbled.

It still shocks him to this day. It makes little sense at all. If she’s right about the Mark, does that mean he would have to wait until dawn? He’ll ask her.

Ohm got up from the bed. Then he exits out from his room. Downstairs was a black and silver couch near the window. It’s Amelia. She’s sweeping on the couch with her little broom, and her green, button eyes stared back at his mask.

“Good morning Lord Wrecker, are you feeling better now?” Her soft voice sounds like a mother would say to her child. If he has a mother or not.

“Yeah still shaken.”

“Good. but, don’t humans need to calm down before coming up with a plan?”  She puts aside her broom and sits down as she claps her plush hands. “So what will you do? There are two paths you have to choose I will guide to, wait for death or fight the Mark.”

“You will help me?”

“If asked politely yes,” she answered. “My master was researching about the Mark before she died; but, I could not get the information from her. Don’t worry you still have time and you’re able to get the second chance, so use it. What will you do?”

Ohm has to trust her if he wants to live.  If Amelia is right, then he’ll get the chance to live and find out who he is especially the wedding ring. The wedding ring. It says ‘I belong to Cartoonz’, which he does not understand who the fuck they are. If she was lying about the Mark, it‘ a nightmare. A horrible one. The image comes to his mind again. It swells with more anxieties. This is live or die.

“I must ask you again. Resist or give in?”

LIVE OR DIE

Okay readers, your choice fates on Ohm. Choose wisely…

Resist

Give in

“I rather fight it, which means I get to trust you!” He exclaimed yet he massages his neck with red in his face. “Sorry if that offends you…”

“It’s fine. nowadays, no one wants talk to a voodoo doll.” She lets a small laugh, “I get to carry my master’s wish, but I can’t do much. Please ask me if you need help.”

One problem. He knows briefly about the supernatural and researching will cause his brain a headache.

A knock came from the front door.

“This is interesting. Looks like you won’t be alone.”

Since she’s a voodoo, she must’ve know what they are feeling.

“It’s called having an empathy E,” she whispered. “Please greet the guests because I don’t want to cause a disturbance.”

Ohm moves to the front door and opens it.

They must face the same consequences. He’ll just make his first impression; although it’s not what he expected.

Two college students; One wearing a hockey mask and the other one wears the hockey team jacket. Their jackets have colors that joint into purple.

“We came to see Doctor Rivera, and who the hell are you?” The one in the red jacket asked.

“I’m…” Ohm trailed off before answering, “...her husband.” That hits him in the heart painfully.

“I gotcha! She’s in her thirties, so she must have someone who she loves right? Unless it’s a secret…”

The blue jacket man has a magazine underneath his arms that says ‘DEEP WEB AND SUPANATURAL’. It’s one of those magazines.

“You can call me H2ODelirious or Delirious for short. I want to talk to her about the news on NNC.” Delirious pulls out his phone and shows a picture of the similar Mark. “And I got this right here!” He takes off his black gloves, and the symbol is there. “I keep forgetting my customers’ orders and my brother’s name!”

“He’s not blood related to his brother if you’re asking.” The red jacket man mentioned.

“Shuch up! He is!”

“Plus, we don’t know if the news is true or not and it‘s on NNC.”

“You came along with me Evan!”

Ohm should introduce them to Amelia. He walks to the black couch and picks up her body before showing it to the bickering friends.

“Is that an evil doll?”

“Excuse me, it’s rude to judge a book by its cover. Not all dolls are evil.” Evan and Delirious screamed loudly and causing them to fall. They’re trying to recover by laughing. Amelia rolled her eyes while Ohm holds back a snort.

“Oh, my go-god…” Delirious giggled.

“Now we calm down, I shall explain about the Mark.”

Amelia explained what is the Mark. Where it came from. She adds a few parts what happens to the Mark Bearers if they don’t fight the spirits. From Ohm’s point of view, Evan and Delirious takes in everything, but their pale faces says otherwise.

“Hey Delirious, I want to know something. Where did you get the Mark?” Ohm asked.

“I think… we got it from the l-lady who was ice skating! Yeah because w-we saw her disappeared!”

“But the water isn't completely frozen.” Evan added.

“Were you at Everblue lake?” Amelia questioned him.

“Yeah.”

“I think I know who it is.” Amelia positioned herself in Ohm's hands. “It must be Isa Queen.”

“Who is she?”

“I will explain Lord Wrecker.”

“Lord Wrecker?” Both of the college students said at the same time.

“And I'll explain about that later.”

[boasamishipper]

in honor of night court's 41st anniversary i watched the night court pilot and the new night court pilot back to back and finally put my finger on why nc is a thousand times better than nnc is.

nnc has no bite.

here's what i mean.

the nc pilot episode opens in the judge's chambers. in less than five minutes, we are made aware of the situation (there is a new judge and will be here any minute and no one knows anything about him at all). we meet most of our leads: lana (court clerk, stress level maximum, control freak), bull (bailiff, big, cloud cuckoolander), dan (assistant district attorney, smooth and snide), and sheila (public defender, people pleaser). (by the episode's end we will also meet selma, the other bailiff, older and wiser and raunchy.) the judge's office is grimy and full of boxes. the guy sent to paint the walls is too busy watching a couple fuck across the street to do his job. the judge turns out to be harry stone, a young irreverent chaos demon who Also stops what he's doing to watch the couple fuck across the street, and also shoots plastic snakes out of an air rifle at his counselors and court clerk to prove he is who he says he is. he wears jeans and hates barry manilow. he's a scamp. the characters and the audience are in immediate agreement: this guy cannot possibly be fit to be a judge.

but as the episode continues, we (and the characters) learn more about harry and find that he is, in fact, the right man for the job. he tells us himself, and he shows it: he cares about people. he wants to hear people out. he wants to talk to people, get to the bottom of their situation, and have people leave his courtroom a little better than they were when they came in. his methods are unorthodox, and he's still as sarcastic and flippant and irreverent as the day is long, but he is a good man. he asks the characters (and the audience) to give him a chance. and we do.

nc showed right away that it had bite. it's sharp, and intelligent, and grimy, and keeps things moving along quickly - if you don't like one joke, another shows up right away for you to laugh at - while letting the heavier moments (harry's big speech, the kerrs' reconciliation) linger without immediately being undercut by the laugh track or the narrative. but most importantly, by the end of the first episode, nc showed that it had heart to go along with the bite. and that balance is what made nc so great.

now onto nnc.

the nnc pilot opens with a cheerful blonde waiting in line to get into the courthouse. we learn who she is right away: judge abby stone, daughter of judge harry stone - which is nnc's immediate mistake. by introducing her first and foremost as harry's daughter, our perception of her is colored by that, and we the audience don't have any time to view her as a person without that knowledge. but whatever, so in this episode we meet harry's very perky cheerful blonde daughter who gives everyone in court a chance to prove themselves and is interested in the defendants as people. we also meet gurgs (bailiff, sunny and weird), neil (court clerk, doesn't want to be here), olivia (prosecutor, also doesn't want to be here, inconsistent suck up), and dan fielding (ex prosecutor, old friend of abby's father). dan is asked by abby to be her new public defender, but wavers until he returns to night court and gets pranked by harry from beyond the grave. by the end of the episode, the team is assembled.

okay great. so we know from the pilot that nnc has heart.

...but does it?

like most mediocre legacy sequels (and also the current state of the marvel cinematic universe), nnc spends too much time calling back (hey look abby is harry stone's daughter and john larroquette is back in action and we remembered roz and christine and clarence the stuffed armadillo and and and) and not enough time trying to make a name for itself. when writing top gun: maverick, the actual best legacy sequel ever made, christopher mcquarrie said:

“We found ourselves leaning towards recreating moments from the film as opposed to creating new ground and we found time and again that the more we let go of the original movie and went into our own direction the film became more true. And there really was the possibility to make something that stood alone. It was very important to Tom and I when we would talk about ‘Top Gun’ you didn’t have to see the original movie to enjoy this one.”

the nnc writers did not (and have yet to) take a leaf from mcq's book. nnc's heart (especially in the pilot) comes entirely from references to the original show. the constant callbacks to harry and the way he was and the things he did and his ethos. roz's appearances. the invention of katie sullivan, a thin excuse to bring up christine. everything about dan, who by the way we STILL don't know anything about what he did (or the woman he married or why he and harry lost touch) in the interim between both shows. and because nnc is so busy throwing references to a better show at us, the new characters have not had any chance to shine - or be given the same depth (or bite!) that the original show's characters were granted in the first few episodes of the show alone.

let me show you what i mean. within the first three episodes of night court, we learned the following about harry:

he was appointed to the bench because he was at home to answer the phone (but he WAS on the shortlist for a reason)

he likes magic tricks and card tricks and pulling pranks

he loves mel torme and hates barry manilow

he wants to understand everyone who comes into his courtroom as individuals, not as statistics

he can be goofy and snide and irreverent but he is not one to be underestimated

he stole a car and crashed it into a liquor store when he was a teenager, went to juvie, and is haunted by the fact that his father died before he could see that harry made something of himself

here's what we learn about abby after the first three episodes of new night court:

she is harry's daughter

she moved to new york city recently from upstate

she is cheerful and peppy and sees the best in people like harry

she is happily engaged to a man who also lives upstate

she is a recovering alcoholic who regrets that her drinking cost her a lot of time with harry (and i would give the show much more credit for this storyline if a) it was a key part of her characterization going forward (which can be done! just look at the first season of the john larroquette show!) b) abby had any bite at all when her personality did a 180 and c) if the writers let this moment belong to abby and abby alone as opposed to - once again - connecting it back to harry)

all this to say: abby and the rest of the nnc gang are characters first and foremost. harry and dan and the rest of the nc gang were people. they snarked at each other and had brutal arguments and laughed together and hugged each other and made mistakes and had idiosyncrasies and tragic backstories and we knew their vices and dislikes and what they loved and why they loved them. their characters had bite. they had feelings; they had dimension. the show had stakes. when things went wrong, we the audience felt the characters' pain in our guts. and when things went right, we were just as happy for the characters as if their victory was ours.

in three seasons the nnc characters have not been given enough breathing room to develop into people. they don't have their own dan's operation, or wheels of justice, or hello, goodbye. nothing sticks to them. and as a result they don't stick to us. (even dan himself, who we love from the original show, has not gotten any chance to prove his own dimension to the new audience without a callback to nc. in three seasons!!! can you believe that!!!)

it's been forty-one years since night court premiered, and the show and its characters (even in the pilot alone) are just as three-dimensional now as they were back then. but until new night court stops being afraid to stand on its own and give its characters the same weight that reinhold weege did so freely - until it has heart and bite in spades - it'll end forgotten.

[usagiverse]

Bunnon claims to be Yuichi's #1 Fan, and that they'll keep him company so that he never has to sleep alone again. I keep trying to do different outfits and color combinations, but I forgot about outfits that actually show off the twins' markings. I did that intentionally so I didn't have to draw the marks in every panel (plus, Yuichi definitely has more than 6 freckles on his face, but it's easier to be consistent than realistic (and realistically, the pages will never get done if i have to properly freckle him)). I also have to keep in mind the size difference... Bunnon... why are you so tiny? I used the group picture as reference and didn't realize you were all the way down there!! I mean, I know you can just stretch to appear taller, but the Usagis really are massive at full size... im kidding, this is not a real question, for I am God and I deem you are shorter than even the shortest Usagi hehe (until i draw the extending limbs that is) Today I learned that Bunnon watches anime.. perhaps even JJK??? Maybe the Lynx is actually Gojo???

They are definitely powerful, but not in that kind of way. They are one of the leading figures of the NNC, which you can tell by the amount of metal plating they wear. This is an internal design choice, it will come up later, but serves a purpose. Only a few of the Neko Ninjas wear multiple pieces of metal armor, this one has 5 pieces (shoulders, knees, and the faceplate) but the metal armor on their face is especially large, much bigger than the usually provided head-piece to upper rank ninjas. It seems to fit their face perfectly, as though molded right on top. I wonder what's under it ? I don't think uncovering their face would be a spoiler, since there is no such thing as a "lynx" character in any version as far as i know (except maybe background or horde fights, no major characters though) but i'm not settled on how I want to do their eyes.. born blind, damage blind, different ways of damage blind, markings if there's minimal damage, etc.. something.. idk yet so no face reveal for now.

Thanks for the ask Bunnon! I left it private, but I still wanted to do something for you. Thank you for your kind words and heartfelt messages, I hope this will be a good start to your day ~ !

ah but I am not actually sure where you are from so maybe it's a good start to your night instead ? I'm actually going to bed now, it's almost 4AM when i post this-

[marketresearchshope-blog]

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[ask-the-nnc]

//hi hi just a little post to say that this blog isnt dead (and probably never will be, no matter how inactive i may seem)

//in fact ive developed the characters even more since the last time i did anything on here so hooray for progress

//so uhh yeah!! the inbox is always open so feel free to drop an ask!!!!!

[nnctales]

Dreams

continued...

Somehow they managed to go out of the room and enter the mess hall.When they reached there they were hesitating as they were expecting to see their friend lay dead.But when they saw the body they were astonished to see that their was another girl of their class who lay dead.A feeling of relief and astonishment held them.On asking other mates they came to know that the girl got up midnight from bed and was feeling thirsty so she went to the hall.After few seconds her roommate went to the hall in search of her roommate and found her dead.On hearing this, three of them started to think about Lyra and decided to face her.So each of them took something or the other as a weapon and slowly opened the door.When they opened the door they were shocked to see Lyra totally fine.Everything was fine in the room.The cat was alive and there was no blood anywhere.Three of them were so shocked that they started to think about the things that had experienced.But one thing they were sure that something strange was happening in the college.So they decided to investigate in the matter the next morning.They could not inform the authorities as they had no proof regarding the incidences that took place.So they went to sleep but as Riha was scared to sleep in her room so she decided to sleep with Nori and Raila.

In the morning when they woke up and went to see Lyra,she was totally fine.So they asked her about the previous night incidences.But to their surprise she did not remember anything nor she was aware that a girl was dead.On hearing the incidences Lyra was dumbstruck as she could not believe that she was acting weird the previous night.She started crying and became scared.She told them as she was on medication so due to the strong dose she was deep asleep.After consoling Lyra four of them headed to the college for more details in the matter.They finished their classes and decided to go to that corridor where they found the rat and the chemical that day.They searched for the rat everywhere but could not find it.On asking the sweeper about the chemical he said that the chemical was dropped accidentally by the professor named Astana Dhillon who happened to be the chemical laboratory in-charge.So they went to the professor and asked about the chemical.But the professor was so rude that he immediately dismissed them by saying “Don’t put your nose in my matter.Go to your classes or I shall immediately inform the Principal about you four wandering in the college during the class premises”.On hearing this they immediately fled from there and went to the canteen to eat something.Suddenly two boys approached them asking about their class notes.Those two boys also joined the class late.Their names were Palash Daya Firki and Dev Jhingra.Both of them were innocent.Due to their long cumbersome names everyone called them PDF and DJ. Raila was fond of DJ and Nori was fond of PDF.Both of them admired the boys secretly and used to spend hours talking about them.But the boys were also good friends of the four.So they also discussed the incidences with them.At first the boys were finding hard to believe but then the behaviour of the professor compelled them to believe.They found the professor suspicious and so decided to break inside his house and investigate.The girls did not encourage it at first but then Lyra asked them to help her so they agreed.

At around 11 o’clock they sneaked out of their hostels somehow.Six of them met outside the professor’s house in the lawn.They were thinking of a plan to enter the house.Suddenly they saw the professor going out with his car so they got an opportunity as the professor lived alone in the house.So they entered the house smoothly.They searched everywhere for some evidence but could not find one.Suddenly the cat of the professor jumped on Lyra ad started scratching her.Nori immediately took a vase and broke it on cat’s head so the cat ran away.Due to this Lyra started shivering ans so she took a pill which was prescribed to her by her doctor.After taking medicine she became fine.Then they decided to search in groups so as to make it quick.The groups were made as-Nori and PDF,Riala and DJ,Lyra and Riha. Nori and PDF searched the study room,DJ and Raila searched his bedroom, Lyra and Riha searched the bedroom.

When they were searching the bedroom Riha found a file in which it was stated that the professor was suffering from a disease named Collifor and the a medicine was prescribed named Soti.She was not understanding anything as the medicine and the disease was completely new to her.As she was asking Lyra if she also found anything,Lyra did not answer. Riha found it strange as she was completely fine a few minutes ago.On approaching her Riha screamed as again Lyra looked exactly like the previous night.This time she grabbed Riha and was strangling her to death.Hearing the scream everyone immediately ran to the bedroom.PDF and DJ somehow managed to take Riha out of Lyra’s captive.Then all five of them started running here and there.Lyra threw a giant sculpture on DJ and he got injured badly.Then Raila knocked Lyra down and managed to get DJ out.Seeing PDF Lyra grabbed a chair and started to beat him.Immediately Nori came to rescue and managed to fight Lyra. Nori hit Lyra so hard that she blacked out.Suddenly they heard a car honking.Quickly Nori managed to take PDF,Riha and Lyra out as after all she was her friend.All six of them managed to escape before the professor’s arrival.When the professor entered the house he got very angry as the whole house was messy.He immediately called the police to look into the matter as he was doubting a robbery.

Meanwhile Lyra was taken into the hostel and put to bed.Five of them then gathered in the lawn and opened the file to read.On seeing the terms in the report DJ googled it and showed the results to them. Everyone were so shocked that they literally felt the ground been swept away under their feet.What was the disease they found on google?What was the medicine actually?What happened suddenly to Lyra that night?

Find out in my next blog.Till then stay in suspense...

With suspense

NNC

[kelp--forest]

I mean, it's just an idea for one and nothing except from the basics are finalised.

Essentially it all starts with Zane being a little more zoned out than usual, nothing particularly weird as this takes place after s11 so the team accept it to be a coping mechanism and leave it at that. He starts to draw more and more into himself, and then a few days later vanishes. His room is untouched, meaning he left the monastery willingly, the team isn't as worried about this because he's most likely disappeared to the birchwood forest to think about everything that's happened and to generally recover and recuperate.

The team had also been recieving more calls for help. Mainly minor things but the one common issue between these incidents is a black and purple speckled fluid, dark matter. They haven't dealt with this in years, not since the 'final battle' including the stone warriors. It's presence is affecting Nya the most, due to the days she spent affected by it. The team decided to talk to Wu and Misako about their concerns, because they would be some of the most knowledgeable on the issue.

The day after they spoke to Wu and Misako about their concerns, a fleet of boats from the Dark Isle dock at nnc, leaving the city in shock and terror. The people on the boats, have grey skin, black hair and purple eyes, like those possessed by dark matter did. They also each have a tattoo like scar somewhere on their body, a dedication to some sort of God.

Due to this chaos, UV and Killow make a successful escape from Kryptarium, aided by an unknown accomplice. Not only do the ninja have to deal with the threat from the Dark Islanders but also the threat of the escapees and their aid.

The team decide to split up, with Lloyd Kai and Pixal staying in nnc with Wu and Misako and Cole Nya and Jay dealing with the three on the run.

During a stand off with the three runaways, the accomplice is revealed to be Shade, master of Shadow. This shocks the three ninja because they had thought he was a relatively good guy. UV steps inbetween and argument between the 4 elemental masters and explains that they (surprisingly) are trying to help. They come from the Dark Isle, and want to help to try and stop the cult from making ninjago corrupt and crazed like their homeland is. When Jay asks them why they are doing so, Killow responds with "I may hate you lot, but I don't hate ninjago" or something like that. With that they decide to head back to the capital.

Back with the group in nnc, they are struggling to hold back the cultists. The other elemental masters also help along with Cyrus, Ronin, Dareth and the whatever the police force has to spare. A beacon of hope appears in the form of Zane.

But it's not him, because the Overlord has been hiding in his programming, and the events of decoded and solving the ninjigma let the Overlord free from the firewalls caging him. Think the pandorica from doctor who.

Going back to the out-of-nnc-team, they stumble across a cave finding shelter from a storm. There's a metal sheet on the back wall and with a lot of brute strength the door is pried open. It's a very high-tec room, with all the newest technological advancements. A screen is flickering in a far corner, emulating the feeling of someone crying their heart out. It's Zane.

This would probably only be the start of a multi season arc like 8 9 and 10,, cause fsm I have a lot of ideas for this sjfns. Also sorry for the infodump, I just really like this idea a lot and I'm obviously very passionate about it lol

Thinking about trying to come up with my own fan season bc all these others I see are so swag

[startrekangelica]

Hello! I’m here to bring you a Star Trek: Angelica progress report!

Wow, I am quite horrible at posting on time-- I might reconsider changing the schedule, but eh. ANYWAYS, this post will FINALLY introduce the audience to the ship where it’s all happening; the Angelica! (Below the Cut are Ship Details!)

Name: U.S.S. Angelica

Age: 15 Years

Class: Rescue Hospital Ship

Resgistry: NNC-95492

Current Captain: Golkrun Ginn

The Angelica’s purpose is to assist other planets and ships when they are in sudden peril, for which they would swoop in and grab the wounded. They would properly heal and diagnose each patient with their wounds, and drop them off at either a Starbase, a planet, or a fellow Hospital ship. Occasionally they would assist with discovering new diseases and sicknesses, but those are usually passed down to science vessels and crews.

This ship doesn’t have much of a diversity when it comes to divisions. Usually, on a regular ship like the Enterprise, you would have Command, Operations, and Sciences, with sub-divisions like Security, Medical, and Engineering. With the Angelica, there is only Command, Operations, and Medical/Counseling, with the sub-divisions being Security and Engineering. There is no science division on this ship, as the Medical division are just a recolored version of Science. 

~ Have a lovely day!

If you have questions, please ask me, and if you would like to be tagged in future updates, message/ask me “Tag”.