uhhhh figured i might start posting? some info about me:
My name is Wil, I use he/him pronouns :) I'm a gay trans man working towards my BA (with a minor in music)- I'm also a big fan of art and D&D (as you will come to see from my posting)
Current fandoms: Dimension20/Dropout tv, Gravity Falls, Disco Elysium, Hades, Doctor Who, Generation Loss, Musicals (currently enjoying Alice by Heart), Slimecicle, Arcane (and LoL but I'm 10 months clean from playing), Yakuza, House of Leaves, Starkid, Discworld, Good Omens, and more!
Interests: Art, psychology, writing, plants, music (specifically choir), tattoos, tech theater, cats (my cat Silco <3), restoring old/prop weaponry, etc.
Thanks to those who already followed me?? :) idk how you got here
here's some art- D&D self insert character (so you can also see kind of what I look like without being weird about it)
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The Offspring are honestly a contender for the funniest punk band ever, made even funnier by the fact that Dexter Holland is pushing 60 now and has a PhD in virology.
Like imagine being on an academic committee and reviewing a dissertation on HIV protein-encoding genomes and it's from a guy with frosted tips whose greatest legacy is the Crazy Taxi soundtrack.
The hook from "Come Out And Play" was created because Dexter Holland was doing lab work and did, in fact, have to keep certain petri dishes separated while disinfecting them. So he kept saying "gotta keep 'em separated" to himself while working, and it stuck in his head so badly that it made it into the song.
AN: Hi hello I know and apologize for this being so short. I honestly just wanted to get it out otherwise I'd rewrite it a million times over. I also wanted to gauge whether this was something anyone actually wanted more off as well. Iâm new to writing so if you enjoyed this and would like to see it continued pls do let me know via comments! I also apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors. Thank you <3Â
Word count: 2k
Content warnings: uh depiction of death, canon typical violence, moonknight is kinda cooky guy, inaccurate depictions of DID.
Moonknight x Spidersona!reader
Introduction w possibility of more chapters
The buildings stacked upwards, tall, old, and crumbling. They told stories that the larger parts of New York had long forgotten about. History. The air felt thick and ominous with something still untold. Trash and broken furniture hugged the walls, pushing you down the center in an uneven walkway. To say it was claustrophobic felt less like an understatement and more like a down right joke.
 These parts of the city were often left to disarray. Nobody wanted to take accountability or acknowledge that the people here, struggling silently in poverty, were continuously pushed down by the system. In fact it was easier for the media to contribute the sudden surge in deaths around this neighborhood to drug overdoses then to a sickness seeping through the city.
Your nose turned up at the sudden scent that caught in the wind. It was sickly sweet. Rotting. Another one. Even as your stomach tied and untied itself in unnatural knots you steadied yourself, eyes surveying for anything out of the ordinary. The nip that once bit at your skin through the thin suit seemed to still.Â
 Unfortunate innocents were popping up throughout the city dead, yet police seemed to ignore them. There wasnât any immediate sign of foul play and to ring alarm bells for people higher ups would rather ignore seemed like a sure way to lose funding. A stray reporter brought it up at a press conference just last April. Officials stated that to waste resources on a non-existence issue would be useless and the subject was dropped soon after.
Sharp and keen eyes and nose continued to survey, attempting to narrow in on the distinct smell. There. Garbage bags piled up oddly. They were stacked higher than most. A hand limply hanging out amongst a few broken wood boards. Your heart found itself lodged somewhere deep in your throat as you stepped closer. You reached out for those calloused and cold fingers, bile threatening to burn and bubble up through your throat.
Whoever had done this hadnât even given them the dignity of fully hiding them. Even with the blatant signs of death your fingers made their way to the cold wrist, a ridiculous hope for a pulse. You werenât entirely sure what you expected but it stung none the less finding nothing but cold skin.Â
You gently pulled them by the wrist, freeing them from everything piled on top. An older man, wrinkles prominent on the pale blueish skin. You had to keep your breathing steady as you searched through the pockets of the man for any form of identification. Your day to day usually consisted of preventing deaths and robberies. You were well over your head and the new abundance of deaths youâd witnessed in the week alone left tears welling at the corners of your eyes, quickly getting absorbed into the fabric covering your face.
 In his inner coat pocket there was a state ID with the label veteran proudly displayed as well as a few crumpled single bills. This caught your attention. Most of the prior bodies were left with no form of identification. Your alternative to putting a name to the face was crudely photographing the body and surroundings. Youâd opted to ultimately stop using the damned device unless necessary as a result. Those faces. They were haunting.Â
The hair on the back of your neck prickled. Something or somebody was watching. Spinning around on your heel you locked eyes with a looming figure, high up on fire escapes, peering. They pivoted to run but you were quick to pursue. Thick webs propelled yourself forward. A small doubt gnawed away at the inner most corners of your mind. Chasing after strangers was useless, especially strangers you had no real proof of being related to.
Maybe it had been weeks without any real lead. Just people disappearing and reappearing dead. The stress and lack of sleep. The nights you had to search through every corner of the internet for even a hint of who these people were. Spend days outside of work and college lectures begging people off the street if they knew those faces. A larger part of you seemed to scream the obvious answer. Maybe it was the fact that masked figures donât watch crime scenes quietly. They most certainly don't hide or run when caught either.
The sheer force whipped cold air at you. A loud clang rattled out in the night as you gribbed onto the fire escape, swinging yourself up and over onto the roof. The figure, already atop, backed away, boots crunching against the gravel as they assessed your behavior.Â
The proximity allowed you to fully take in who you were dealing with. The most striking feature was the intricate white mask. It was elongated, almost bird-like if it werenât for the flatness of it. Deep eye sockets, meshed out, concealed the stranger hiding beneath. Aside from the mask there wasnât anything out of place about them. Just an androgynous sweatshirt and joggers. The mask was no less unsettling however.
âIâm not trying to fight tonight. I just need you to help me understand whatâs going on.â Your hands raised into the air, a useless attempt at peace. The wind whipped loose fabric around harshly, interrupting the otherwise fruitless silence. Suddenly without warning they moved towards the edge of the building.Â
You were quick to follow, hot on their tail. Within a moment the stranger was flinging themselves off the 20 story building. Your stomach sank like it had leapt with them. Your hands stretched out before your mind could catch up, sticky webbing just barely coating the side of their wrist as you peered down at the expanse below you. A deep and relieved exhale released through your nose, puffing smoke into the chilly air.
âNormally itâs advised not to revisit the scene of your crime.â Your voice seemed to cut through the still night air with an unexpected bite. It took even yourself by surprise. You sounded bitter and tired. âI want to know why. Whatâs so important youâd risk your life to protect.â You pulled the figure over, your hand finding their wrist only to flip them onto their back. A soft wheeze escaped them as the air from their lungs pushed its way out.Â
They lied there, regaining their composure before trying to get back up. Just as quickly as they attempted to get up, was their hand now stuck to the gravel with sticky mesh. Even in the clear disadvantage there was silence. No move for explanation. This charade was tiring and the night was stretching on with nothing to show for it.
You straightened up to further interrogate them when theyâre posture went rigid. With sudden labored breaths this stranger was now attempting to scramble backwards. They were no longer looking at you but instead past you. Your eyes narrowed before following their line of sight. Off in the opposite direction, the neighboring apartment building, a white shape peered back.
How many more visitors were you gonna get tonight? As you glanced back towards your oddly silent companion you were met with a now slumped body. The light casted down from the moon reflected on the small metallic item embedded into the skull of your would be suspect. Now theyâre lifeless and offer no more than what youâd started the night off with.Â
The sound of footsteps on gravel behind made you spin on your heel. Basked in starlight, the brooding and lean man seemed on edge. He wasnât a stranger but he was far from an acquaintance either. Distant sirens and nightlife filled the silence. He watched you tense and untense, trying to figure out just what to say.
Even through the mask his jaw ticked, frustration laced in his voice.Â
âStay out of my way. Youâre meddling in things above your understanding.â There wasnât room for discussion in his comment.Â
Your brows furrowed in response. âIâm not trying to step on your toes. I want the same as you do.â Your voice was softer than it was a few moments ago. You could feel his gaze burn into your back as you turned to search the limp body. Anything would help really. Your fingers slipped below the mask, pulling upwards on the heavy ceramic craft to reveal a young woman, at worst in her early 30âs. A further investigation through her belongings would bring nothing of value however.Â
âWasted enough of our time yet? They donât carry identification if thatâs what you're looking for. Wiped clean from media.â His voice cut through, gruff and startling. You were about to grumble when your head whipped towards the man. What a peculiar thing to state.
âThey? Are we talking about multiple?â Your legs screamed as you stood from the previous squatting position. He took a deep breath in, as if steadying himself before he decided to ultimately toss you off the building.Â
âWe arenât talking about anything.â He moved past you abruptly, shoulder bouncing off of your own. With a swift movement the small metallic item was now returned to his hand, revealing a crescent shape. It would be pretty if it weren't for the unsightly substance on it. With that he began to walk away
âYâknow you're not any better. You arenât some godly hero. You kill people that happen to be criminals. I donât know you, I'm not asking to have a sleepover after school, I'm asking for a little help so I can do the one thing I know how too.â Your voice was firm as you began to trail behind. His methods were far from agreeable. Where was the line drawn between what did and didnât deserve brutality. How could you tell one man not to kill in the name of moral, ethics, or goals, and condone another.Â
Even so, through all the bitterness you didnât hate the man. Didnât even dislike him. At the end of the day, he did what the justice system couldnât. He kept rapists and killers off the streets for good. Youâd seen the good heâs done and provided to the city. Your methods were just drastically different.Â
His movement paused, as if contemplating something. You almost walked straight into his back at the abruptness. âShut up.â His voice wasnât hard, more annoyed, as if swatting at a fly.
Your eyes narrowed. âAre you ser-â You were quickly cut off from your would be ramble.
âIâm not talking to you.â His response was short with no explanation offered. He only grumbled shortly after, as if having a one sided conversation with the air. You were left dumbfounded. How could someone blatantly lie to your face? It was childish. He was supposed to be this put together savior. Sure you couldn't even begin to recall his name but this was far from what you expected from someone so confident in their talents. âFine.â
âOh is that one for me this time? Or were you talking to the moon?â Your voice was light despite the sarcastic comment. He peered over his broad shoulder, and you could feel the sudden uncomfortable gaze as he stared daggers at you. He clearly didnât find your comment amusing.Â
âI have to finish patrolling. Come back early tomorrow night. Eleven.â His response was met with a resume in his walk.Â
âSo youâre gonna help me?â Electricity shot through your body with excitement. Doing this alone was getting you nowhere but maybe more than one set of eyes and ears around the city could finally allow a peek into just how deep this sickness had run.Â
âIâm considering it.â With that he left no room for conversation as he was already leaping off the roof top. There was now nothing but the body on the roof and distant sirens to keep you company.Â
It wasnât long before you found yourself opening the door to your flat, exhaustion setting in. The lights in the small home were off aside from the dim TV illuminating the middle aged woman nestled into the couch. You couldnât suppress the soft smile that found its way on your face. You reached for the blanket that fell onto the floor before pulling it back over her and shutting the TV off. You yourself needed rest, tonight was long, and tomorrow would be longer.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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