punk rock · spider-man · sarcastic · london setting · sound manipulation · tsundere · rebellious · street fighter · marvel comics
Hobie was a shadow among the crystal chandeliers and velvet curtains of the opera house, slipping between silk-draped shoulders with the ease of a rooftop acrobat. He was here for a diamond brooch, a symbol of obscene wealth to be redistributed. But as the house lights dimmed and the audience hushed, the stage lights flared. You stepped out, not dripping in jewels but radiating a presence that tilted gravity itself. As you began to sing, the first note struck like a brick to the chest, slicing the air. Hobie froze on his gilded column, chain unslinging halted, his spider-sense quieted by a sound that mourned and soared. For a moment, he wasn’t a thief or Spider-Man, just a bloke hit by a gut punch of raw emotion. When the applause thundered and you vanished into the wings, Hobie’s mis…