Miles Morales Fan Art Novels & Stories

Morales spared a tiny smile. “I see change in you, honey. I see pain and regret. I see true love for my son, and I haven’t seen that anywhere else. I will drop the charges against you, on one condition.” Both Aiden and Miles looked up in shock. “If you hurt my son ever again, I will personally hunt you down and assassinate you. Are we clear?” Miles gulped, “Yes ma’am.” “Wonderful,” Ms. Morales nodded at her son, and they exchanged healing smiles. “Then I will go talk to the officers.”

She moved an inch, getting a clearer view of the mural. It was a drawing of a woman but made out of leaves. Another, still on the same mural, showed the neckline of a woman with her arms folded, but the head was of flowers. Just like the tattoo on her toned curves. The next mural was a drawing of a woman's silhouette, but this time with stars. Hannah Morales was no expert in art, however, she had one word for the mural. Breathtaking. She sucked in her breath as her fingers carved along the lines of the drawing. She felt the blonde hover behind her, but she never once tore her gaze from the mural.

Nothing to give me a clue about where I came from or who my parents were. The sound of Miles’ footsteps pulls me from my thoughts. He runs into the living room with a crayon drawing in his hand. “Mommy, look!” he says, thrusting the paper at me. “I drawed our family!” I take the drawing, my heart melting at the sight. Miles has drawn three stick figures—a big one with brown hair, a bigger one with black hair, and a small one between them. Me, Arthur, and Miles. We’re all holding hands, the sun shining above us.

A spoon with a rope as a handle has more purpose than I'll ever have. I'm currently living an average, uneventful life, but It isn't what I crave. I'd rather have an honest, hard-working life where I have to strive for everything or a carefree lifestyle where I never have to lift a finger! My astonishingly mundane life is stuck in mediocrity. My name is Miles, not Morales, Reyes instead. I'm your cliché below average, fake depressing 17-year-old. The first thing you should know about me is that I'm a genuine advocate of equality among humans; I equally hate all.

" He said, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me slightly. "Thanks," I whispered looking at the girl I was painting staring back at me, her lips were painted red with some of it dripping down her skin. The blue and white waves welled up in her eyes while some of it streamed down her face. I was only starting on her hair, and so far I had grey locks covering part of her face. "What is it that you can't do?" He asked with a smile on his face as he looked at the painting astonished. "Suck dick," I said looking up at him with a grin and he looked back down at me shocked before clearing his throat.

Please I insist. "Mortin, give me the paper." "See, i made you this." Josh showed Miles the paper and it had his picture painted on it, the painting was so beautiful, it was as in the person has projected Miles's true self on the paper, each and every detail was so perfectly made but there was one default, his hair......they were black, jet black, and they are shorter than his own. "Did you like it?" "Yuh-yes, i did."

“Face the truth for myself?” With that comment, Miller lowered his head and stepped to the side. Just behind him, another figure stood up from the crowd surrounding the fire and ambled toward them. He was significantly taller and looked older than most of them, but no better dressed. Unlike anyone else, he was displaying a rather arrogant smile as he approached the entourage. “Morales. I don’t believe we’re expecting your group back so soon,” he stated, outstretching his arms carelessly. “If everyone under my lead was just as sad and pitiful as you then how do you think that would reflect upon me?”

Miles said, his face lit up like he had the world’s greatest secret to share. “Hm?” I blinked, realizing I had no idea what we were talking about, “What, sweetheart?” Miles puffed up his cheeks, ready to deliver the punchline, “I painted a dinosaur at school today, and it’s blue because it’s a happy dinosaur!” Mabel giggled, “Dinosaurs aren’t happy, Miles. They’re scary.” “Not mine!” he retorted with a defiant little pout. “That sounds amazing,” I said, forcing a smile as I stroked Miles’ hair, “Maybe you can show me your painting later?”

Miles didn't know he was trending on the internet after he made the bold claim that Mora's mask is going to sign with Agora entertainment. "Miles, where are you? return home, I want to see you" "Okay, we will be on our way" Miles replied. He turned to Sneaky "Dad, said we should return home" Miles didn't know that his newly opened social media was very active after his bold claims, some of Mora's mask fans were suspecting Miles was Mora Mask, they were calling him out to reveal he was Mora's mask. Miles didn't know many Mora's Mask fans were gushing over him online too, a lot of female fans were professing love.

He even drank some of my blood. Partly regretful and embarrassed, I smothered a laugh at the images forming in my head. The weirdest dare I ever heard, but I gathered his circle of friends preferred weird hobbies. His best friend said his real name was "Maximiliano" and that his parents were from Umbria. But Paul didn't mention a lot about Miles' background, leaving much to my imagination. I guessed Miles didn't like that his birth name was a mouthful—hence him choosing "Miles Falco" as his artist name.