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starry-bi-sky · 2 years ago

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I am procrastinating homework and finals studying so I'm making another DPxDC au -- or more accurately, I am making an au of an au. or combining two aus to make a third one, because I am Procastinating And thinking about it.

(the part two for my Danny is Jason Todd au is like,,, half-made and I will get around to finishing it, promiiissse)

So the two aus I had in mind were combining, of course, the two clone aus - the Danny Clone and the Damian Clone au. For folks who haven't seen either posts (or saw one but not the other) here are summaries of both:

Damian Clone Au: The LoA make a clone of Damian Wayne specifically to either kill Damian Wayne and have the clone take his place as the heir to the LoA, or to bring him back. At 6 years old though and through magical teleportation mishaps, Baby Damian ends up in the warehouse district of Amity Park and picked up (and later adopted) by Danny Fenton. They develop a brotherly dynamic with one another.

Danny Clone Au: Danny is straight up a clone of Bruce Wayne, doesn't find out until a year after he has his accident. And, for the fun of it, is also mostly-powerless (he retains his ghost sense and a semblance of a ghost core and signature, but no ghost form). His reasoning for becoming Phantom is because he has walked into the lab watching his parents dissecting ghosts post-portal working more times than he can count. And due to this, changes his beliefs from "ghosts are evil" to "ghosts are sentient and sapient beings who don't deserve this treatment". (masterpost pinned on my blog, its currently incomplete) He is also a little GNC, as a treat. Long-haired Danny ftw. Ellie is a halfa because of the ectoplasm that Vlad used, and also the same age as Danny. They call each other twins and she is viciously protective of him. He uses a baseball bat and brass knuckles that I call 'jawbreakers' to fight ghosts.

Now admittedly, not much probably changes with the combination of these aus other than the potential parallels between Damian and Danny, and Bruce and Damian - and of course, I am always a sucker for parallels. Plus Damian's running off would take Danny finding him much longer, since he can no longer fly, but all the more meaningful because he still took so much time to find him.

(It probably also makes their first meeting different as well - Danny wears a ROTTMNT Casey Jones Jr. esq. mask when he goes out, but Damian would recognize lazarus green anywhere. He'd probably try harder to kill him though once he sees his face, since he knows that its not his father but an imposter.)

It also includes what I consider a hilarious conversation: "Since I'm a clone of Bruce Wayne, does this make me your dad or your brother?" "Don't be an idiot, laeazir." "You didn't answer my question."

The biggest change that comes from this is, of course, the fact that Danny now no longer has a leg to stand on with the "you're a human, I am a ghost" excuse in order to prevent Damian to help him with ghost-fighting, because now Danny is also a squishy, fleshy and fragile human just like Damian. And a human who, arguably, has less combat training than Damian and no powers to make up for it.

Now, Danny in both aus are about 16-17-ish in age, so they've had time to adapt to their new vigilante-hero lifestyle, but its still not the same as Damian's training as an assassin. Damian, unlike in the original clone au, remains insistent on his want to help Danny.

And,,, eventually wears him down after weeks or months of sneaking out after him, helping in fights, interfering, arguing, etc. Danny eventually agrees, exhausted, but he makes Damian promise, promise, that he will be careful and to focus on dodging and distraction. At least until Danny can figure out a safer alternative. He wants him as far removed from the fight as he can, he's a child for ancient's sake, after all.

Which is another issue too - if we follow Damian Clone timeline, then Damian is six years old when this happens. I'll be point blank, I do not see Danny ever actually agreeing to let a literal 6 year old go with him. SO, solution, I bump Damian's age to 7 when he arrives in the Fenton Family, and make him freshly eight years old when he finally gets Danny to agree.

It still SUCKS. He is still very much an itty bitty child, but as someone who has seen the difference between a six year old and an eight year old due to working at a daycare, an eight year old is still... slightly feasible. And an 8 year old assassin even more so (even if he hasn't trained properly in nearly a year or so)

So Danny, reluctantly, agrees to let Damian come with him on patrols.

He ghost-proofs Damian's sword (as he has since learned to do with his bat and jawbreakers), makes him a grappling hook and a Fenton thermos, and reluctantly lets Damian come with in his old LoA uniform that he appeared in (with some tailoring and ghost-proofing, because he has since begun to grow out of the uniform).

(and Danny himself also finally starts looking into alternatives to improve his own "suit" - which is all but a hoodie and reinforced jeans and a hockey mask. He needs to set an example to his little brother, goddammit.)

Then, as they're planning for Damian's eventual (dreaded on Danny's part) debut, they sit in their shared room and brainstorm for what to call Damian. "Ellie already uses the name Spirit." Danny says, sitting criss-cross at his desk with the eraser nub of a pencil chewed between his teeth.

(Behind him he has an investigative corkboard set up -- his accident left him with the ability to see ghosts not capable of being seen on the visible plane. 'Stereotypical' ghosts. Between school work, his social life, and ghost fighting, some of his downtime is spent figuring out ways to help them move on. His most recent is a cold case.)

(Bc with Danny, I loove to have him have some sort of trait that ties him in with his original counterpart. Nature vs Nurture and all that. Investigative work can be part of that.)

"What about Wraith?" Damian suggests from the floor, leaning against the bed frame while he goes over one of his english books. They've been practicing his reading and writing.

Danny furrows his brows. "A ghost seen typically shortly after or before someone's death?"

Damian nods. "Yes, it's of a similar cadence to 'Batman and Robin'."

"What's with you and your thing with Batman and Robin?" Danny asks with a playful half-smile, Damian shrugs and looks at his books. Danny sticks the eraser back between his incisors. "Phantom and Wraith... that works, though."

The first night out together, Danny fusses over Damian, making sure every bit of uniform was secured and in place -- something Damian took mild offense over. His outfit was far more reinforced than the juvenile get-up that his older brother wore.

But he let him fuss anyways. It made him loved.

"Now remember, Wraith--"

Damian interrupts him: "Yes, I know, Dany. Avoid and distract. Stay situationally aware. I fear that is something I should be telling you, however. Mother would have your head if she ever saw what your training was like."

(It was, not for the first time, that Damian wondered how his,,, "mother",,, would react if she ever met Danyal. Not good, he knows.)

Danny's shoulders sag, and he sighs. "I believe that, what with that super-secret spy--"

"Assassin."

Danny sends him a half-hearted chagrined look, "Assassin," he corrects, "organization that made you. I'm sure I'd give your mother an aneurysm." When he's finally okay with whatever make-believe issues he found with his suit, Danny reaches for the nearby side table and carefully slips on a black domino mask over Damian's eyes. It was thin, flexible, and made with some kind of material that Danny reassured was environmentally safe.

("Some kind of matieral that Wayne Industries invented awhile ago, Sam bought it for me." Danny told him when he first showed it to him.)

It was also cold. But the chill was made up for, slightly, with Danny's warmer hands smoothing it out over his skin, and ridding of any ridges that could form. Damian isn't sure entirely what Danyal did to keep it stuck onto his face, but when he touches it with his fingers he feels a very faint seam at the edge, and it doesn't budge against his hands. It felt like a second skin.

"There we go." Danny smiles, pulling his hands back. He still looks nervous. "It's not the same as my hockey mask," which sat atop his head, ready to be pulled down, "but I think a domino mask will work better for you considering your background."

He was right, a hockey mask would only hurt Damian's peripheral vision. This mask was thin enough that it didn't.

"Ready to go, Wraith?"

"After you, Phantom."

+++

Damian has much issue with Danny's suit. He can think of a million ways to make it better. It is one of the things he and Samantha Manson can get along with, and the few times they have spent time together they have brainstormed suit ideas. He knows that since Danny took him on as Wraith, he has started to look into better suit alternatives.

However. They are both aware of the same thing:

Danny is not Batman, nor Superman, nor Wonder Woman, nor Aquaman, or the Flash, or Green Arrow, or Nightwing, or any single hero on the public roster. He is also not rich like Lex Luthor or Vlad Masters or Bruce Wayne himself.

He has no money and no contacts, and thus, no way of properly improving his suit to be something even half as safe as the other supers.

And he refuses to let Samantha Manson help him find a way to fix that - even with all that money, Samantha Manson is on an allowance from her parents, and also, despite her other range of abilities, not capable of getting those materials without putting herself on a list of some sort. They are at a standstill.

Damian knows this, because he has asked.

Until one day when Danny is talking about a case he is working on and telling Damian about old adventures he had in the Ghost Zone, does he see his brother get hit with a lightbulb.

He slaps a hand against his forehead and straightens up from his swivel seat. He huffs a laugh, "Of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner?" And he turns on his heel and hurries to his bookshelf, pulling down a notebook and flipping open to an empty page.

Damian frowns, "Laeazir?"

"I know you don't like my suit, Damian," Danny says, striding over to his desk and snatching a pencil out of a cup. He begins jotting something down on the notebook. "And there's nothing I can really do about it because, well, I'm poor in comparison to my facesake, and I don't have the resources to get my hands on someone who would make me a new suit."

"Yes, we have talked about this..." Damian nods slowly, still frowning, and trying to follow his brother's line of reasoning.

Danny shoots him a megawatt, half-tilt smile, his hair tied up into a half-bun. "But! I was thinking about it from the wrong angle. I don't have the living resources to help me get a suit, but..." he trails off, staring at Damian intently.

It dinged in Damian's brain to where he was going, "But you have the undead resources instead." He says, his eyes widening slowly. Of course, of course! Danyal was ridiculously charismatic by accident, and Damian has seen plenty of times where his heart-of-gold had one or two non-hostile ghosts be incredibly grateful to him.

His brother makes a loud, 'ding-ding-ding!' sound, pointing his pencil at Damian as his smile stretches further across his face. In a few quick strides, he was sat down next to Damian and showing him his notebook. "Correct! When I first started out as Phantom a few years ago, I managed to help a ghost who called herself Taylor, and apparently she was a seamstress both in and out of life."

Damian watches as Danny writes the name at the top of the paper, and creates bullet-points down the page. "She said that in return for saving her, I should come find her in the Ghost Zone if I ever need clothes made for me. It's a one-time thing, but I was thinking that she could perhaps help make me a new suit."

Danny turns a bit pink at the ears, and rubs his neck, "I never thought much of it because I didn't think I'd ever go into the Ghost Zone, or ever need ghost clothes, so I forgot about it up until now."

A scoff forces itself out of Damian's mouth, but he is smiling. "Danyal, you are the smartest idiot I have ever met."

For the next hour, both he and Danny make a bullet point list of what both of their suits would need. Reinforcement in certain areas, gauntlets with reinforced knuckles to replace Danyal's jawbreakers. A different weapon than a bat.... a utility belt, reinforced boots. Anything they could think of.

It was Damian's idea to add a cloak to both of their suits, asymmetrical and torn at the edges for a more 'ghostly' look. They have a theme, after all. It's quite fun.

Then Danyal calls up Sam for help in drafting up design ideas. And while Danyal steps mostly to the side when it comes to the design itself, Damian and Sam fill pages with designs until coming up with one they both agreed on and like.

"What about a lightning bolt on the chest?" "Why are we using my traumatic accident as a symbol of my identity?" "Ghosts do it all the time, Danny. Ember sings about her death." "I'm not dead?" "No that won't work, Manson. Shazam already has a giant lighting bolt emblem." "Okay, but I still want to use it somewhere." "How about this?" "...That could work. Okay, now onto your emblem--"

Last was the hard part: getting into the Ghost Zone without the Fenton parents noticing the disappearance of their precious Fenton Specter Speeder. They employed Jazz's help with that. She would get the Fentons out of the house long enough for him and Danny to get into the ghost zone, hopefully find the seamstress, and cash in that favor.

They went through with their plan that following weekend. Danny tossed Damian a small jumpsuit as they both climbed into the specter speeder, but did not grab his own. He had a small duffle bag on him that he threw under the seat.

"What is this?" Damian asks, nose scrunching up at the gaudy picture of Jack Fenton's face square at the center of the chest. He held it far away from it, as if it had a disease.

"Your hazmat suit." Danny replies, settling himself into the driver's seat as the door hissed shut and he began turning it on. He had some sort of gas mask on in his lap, too small to fit Danny's head, but certainly the right size to fit Damian's. "Normally you wouldn't need it since you'd stay in the speeder, but we're both getting out once we find Taylor. It's to protect you from the ectoplasm."

A scowl forces itself across Damian's face, "You don't have one." He points out, finding seat in the passenger chair next to Danny. His arms cross over his chest, and he was not pouting.

Danny looks at him amusedly, "I have enough ectoplasm in my body that I don't need one, you however, do not." He retorts, poking a finger into Damian's ribcage pointedly. "If you don't put it on now, you'll put it on when we find Taylor."

Damian's scowl deepens, feeling petulant as he sunk into his chair. Danny turns back to the console and flips a few more switches. "I will not, it looks ridiculous." He turns it around to show Danny the Jack Fenton Face.

The Specter Speeder hums to life, and there's a moment of turbulence as it lifts off the ground. While it does, Danny turns back to him blankly, stares at the emblem, and then reaches forward and yanks it off with a scriiiiich of the emblem. He crumples it up with one hand, and throws it into a small bin at his feet.

"There, fixed." He smiles. Then turns back to the controls, taking the yoke with both hands. "And I'm calling Dad Rights; you will put it on when we find Taylor or you'll stay in the speeder."

Damian sputters, sitting up incredulously. "You are not my father." He argues.

"Teeechnically, I am." Danny says, "I'm a clone of your father, and since I am fully his clone, that makes you my son by a technicality." He says cheerfully, pushing the specter speeder forward and into the swirling green portal.

Before Damian can retort, they're passing through the portal. This was his first time going into the Ghost Zone, and for a few seconds there was nothing but bright, swirling green filling his vision. His body felt like it was being twisted and pulled, his up and down reversing and returning. It was painless, but dizzying.

It only lasts for a few seconds, but it feels like a minute, and when they exit out the other side, Damian is holding his head while his vision spots and swims. Internally, he felt like those cartoon characters when their eyeballs rolled around in their head.

The dizziness fades away slowly, and as Damian regains his sight, he notices Danny's hand splayed over his sternum, gently keeping him pressed against his seat. It fell away when Danny saw that he was alright.

"Put your seatbelt on," Danny orders, nodding to his chair. Damian listens absently, before remembering their conversation before they went through the portal.

"That is not how it works." He scowls, and, annoyingly, only gets a challenged eyebrow raise from Danny. He could see the words written on his face without Danyal ever having to say it.

Because, dangit, he was technically right. Damian refuses to say this aloud. He screws his jaw shut, and crosses his arms back across his chest.

Danny chuckles under his breath, and turns his eyes back to the ghost zone. "My point still stands, either you wear the suit, or you don't leave the speeder."

"Fine."

+++

They eventually find where the seamstress is. Through quite a lot of Danny stopping to ask questions with any friendly ghost he came across, they eventually locate an island with a strange, urban city bustling with life on it. Massive, rocky stalagmites grew from the ground, and buildings were built on top of it or around it, with strange, warping architecture.

It was oddly beautiful.

Danny parked the speeder on the side of the street with a two hour parking sign on a nearby post. As he turned off the engine, he flipped a switch on the console that darkened the windows. He unbuckles his seat, and stood up, stretching out his back with a deep groan.

"Alright, put your suit on. The windows are tinted, so nobody should be able to see into the speeder." He orders, pulling out the duffle he brought in earlier and unzipping it. He pulls out his hockey mask and the hoodie he wore out for patrol, and the notebook they'd been using to jot down ideas for their suit.

Danny even had the hindsight to write in their respective heights, and with Tucker's help, some of their measurements. While he did that, Damian sourly pulled on his hazmat suit, irritated by the need to wear it.

Unfortunately, he also had to wear the boots and gloves for 'extra precaution'. Damian nearly bites out a grumpy 'you're as paranoid as father', but holds his tongue. He wasn't going to tell Danyal that secret.

Once he was done and Danny has his hockey mask and hoodie on, Danny grabs the gas mask and helps fit it over Damian's face. It was a sleek, simple design, shaped similarly to a regular face mask, with little filters on both sides of the mouth and a clear, protective covering around the eyes and forehead. Danyal improved it from the original his parents made.

He was smarter than he gave himself credit for.

Danny checks, then double checks that it the mask is tight, then smiles. Patting Damian's shoulders before standing up fully. "Taylor's shop should be somewhere nearby." He says, grabbing the notebook and tucking it under his arm.

Damian nods, and follows him out the door and onto the busy streets.

Finding Taylor becomes remarkably quick now that they were inside her city - something that Damian silently wondered was based loosely off NYC. Danny kept a firm arm around Damian's shoulders the entire time they walked down the street, keeping the both of them on the inside sidewalk.

Barely anyone passed them a second glance, spare the few odd looks shot at Damian. Danny whispers to him the first time it happens that it's because he has no ghost core, those more attune to their signatures might've been picking up on it.

They didn't notice Danny, because he had one, albeit a weak one.

Taylor's shop has a big sign on it in logographic writing that Damian has no idea how to read. The text shifts slowly, a jambled squiggle of lines, dots, and connected curves that look like a mix of messy cursive, gibberish, and logographic alphabets. He only knows its Taylor's shop because Danny pulls them towards it, stating that it was the place.

"You can read that?" He asks, incredulous as they draw closer to the door. Danny moves his arm off his shoulder, and wraps his fingers around Damian's instead.

"Yep," He replies, then scrunches his nose up, "sort of. It's - uh--" he stumbles over a word that Damian's ears cannot comprehend, but fills his head with slight static regardless. Danny winces. "It's the written form of ghostspeak, but since I'm not a ghost, I can only read some of it. Like uh, dyslexia."

"...I see." Damian says after a moment of silence, trying to replay the word in his head. His mind can't grasp the sound.

When they enter, the door doesn't ding with the sound of a bell, but rather it makes a low scream. Nobody bats an eye to the sound, keeping to their slow search through the racks of clothes.

At the counter was a woman talking quietly to another woman, one of whom Danny recognizes, as he walks over to her.

He doesn't need to say anything, because the woman behind the counter sees him coming, and her face positively lights up with delight. "Phantom!" She cries, and gestures to come over. "I was wondering when in the high ancients you were going to come see me!"

Danny's face is obscured by his mask, but Damian knows he's smiling sheepishly with the way he tilts his head and the way he tenses his shoulders. "My bad, Miss Taylor," he says, reaching the counter and standing beside the woman she was talking to, "It kinda... slipped my mind."

Taylor waves her hand dismissively, "Well you are here now!" She replies, grinning wide. Then her eyes pop open - literally - and she puts a hand over her chest. "Oh, how rude of me!" She turns and gestures between Phantom and the lady next to him, "Miss Mabam, this is Phantom. I told you about him a couple of years ago. He saved me from humans. Phantom, this is Gigi Mabam, she funds my shop. In return I make clothes for her and her staff."

The 'Gigi' woman turns just as Danny does, and smiles wide at him. Damian narrows his eyes at her, shuffling behind Danny legs as he looked her up and down. She had silvery-white hair and purple skin, and wore a darker purple business suit, a red gem cravat at her collar, and teal cat-eye glasses.

There was a lot of purple.

"So this is the ghost-touched you were telling me about, dear!" The woman, Mabam, said. Her voice was rich and low but she spoke in a whimsical cadence. It made Damian's skin crawl, and his narrowed eyes turned into a glare. "I must thank you for saving my seamstress, it would've been quite a fizzy-wink if she had been lost to those ghosty hunters."

What were those nonsense words? Damian hated it.

"Miss Mabam here runs a five-star hotel nearby," Taylor explains, her body turned to Danny, "she also is in charge of the city's Battle Nexus."

Danny is silent for a moment, and his free hand lifts and places itself on the back of Damian's head, keeping him close. "Battle Nexus...?"

Mabam claps cheerfully, laughing low, "Oh yes! Ghosts from all around the zone come to attend and watch as their fellow haunties are ripped from limbity-limb in a blood-curdling battle!"

Danny is still as stone. "I see." He says, careful. Damian wraps his fingers around his pant leg. "Well, I hate to interrupt your conversation, but I was hoping to cash in that favor, Miss Taylor?"

"Of course! What do you need?"

Danny looks down at Damian, and he looks up at him, locking eyes with the ominous green glowing from the eyeslits of his mask. He nods, and Danny looks back up. "Do you know how to make suits? Of the protective kind?"

+++

The seamstress it turns out, is capable of such a thing. And she ushers the both of them into one of the backrooms, sending off Mabam with a farewell and a promise to continue their conversation soon.

She flips through their design book, and immediately gets to work making their suits. In the end, with the help of her powers, she gets both done over the span of four hours. It's longer than both Danny and Damian want, but neither rush her.

Damian just hopes that Jasmine can keep the Fenton parents distracted for that long. She will have to.

The suits are better in real life than on paper, and Damian preens from the side in his own custom suit as Danny examines his own in front of the three mirrors. They were both dressed in all black, but whatever fabric Taylor used was of a blackest-black, turning Danyal - and Damian's - bodies into a black hole to look at. Both of them were fitted for agility, with reinforced padding around their shoulders and chests, as well as around the joints of their legs. Their boots were reinforced as well.

("It was hard to make your boots shock absorbent," Taylor explains, "since we all fly, but I applied similar stuff to what I did with your shoulders and chestplate.")

On the side of Danyal's legs were raised, black, lichtenberg-like figures that were contained to the seams and disappeared under his boots. There were similar designs going up his sleeves, with spiked gauntlets wrapped around his lower arm and hands. The knuckles were reinforced, just like he wanted.

Damian's favorite parts were their capes, however. Black like the rest of the outfit, but "wrapped" around their shoulders like an apocalyptic shawl with a back that went down to their knees, and at the hems the capes were torn and ripped like a wraith. Danyal's mask had gone through very little change. It was made of a stronger material, and Taylor had gone and made it more skull-like in its shape, with three large grills at the front, and the sides curving inward below the 'cheekbones' of the skull to better fit his face. It was still shock white, the only white part of Danyal's entire costume.

Damian's suit was almost identical. However, rather than having the seams of his suit resemble lichtenberg figures, the seams of his sleeves and upper torso were that of a black skeleton, with bone-y designs over his gauntlets and the fingers an ombre of dark red-to-black. And around his torso were raised lines that looked similar to a ribcage. The edge of his cloak was splatter a dark red as well. And he had a new domino mask that looked similar to the upper half of Danyal's mask, with the outer edges curved downward over his cheekbones. He was briefly allowed to take off the upper part of his gas mask to try on the mask.

The best part however, was that since the suits were made of material native to the ghost zone, they could also be taken off quickly and hidden in a small artifact. It was magic, is what it was. Danyal chose earrings, and Damian chose a ring.

When they got back to the Fenton house, Jazz demands a box of chocolate for her hard work. Damian thinks that's only fair as Danny takes them both out to get candy for Jazz.

+++

But other than vigilante stuff, not else much changes. Danny gets to pull a "Dad By Technicality Rule" card over Damian when he's being a brat. Danny doesn't have his run in with Rift (a ghost who portals him into Gotham) until after he meets Damian/lets Damian join him on patrol and when they get new suits.

My reason? Because I want it to happen after that point in time lol. It also makes the eventual "heyyyyy you have a clone" @ bruce much funnier to me because not only does he have a clone of HIMSELF but also THAT clone has a clone of Damian living with him.

Also when Danny destabilizes for the first time Damian is terrified for his safety. The fentons are surprisingly good at cloning, Danny hasn't had any issues up until this point in time, and that's only because he got hit with a new gun from Skulker that messed up the ectoplasm he had in his dna, which in term fucked with his own DNA.

Danny's destabilization, imo, is not "I cast you with Melt" he's not Ellie, he's not made of 50% ectoplasm. His parents surprisingly knew what they were doing, and he was human. So his destabilization should be unique to himself and different. Thus his destabilization is "I cast you with Compromised Immune System" his body slowly weakens over time as his cells destabilize. He becomes unnaturally frail and sick. Damian calls Ellie for help when Danny doesn't get up after being hit in a fight that he normally, and Ellie helps figure out that he's destabilizing. This is whats gonna happen in OG clone au too, but Ellie is going to be there rather than Damian.

It makes going to Wayne Manor after that slightly more interesting,,,

#dpxdc crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny fenton is a clone #damian clone au #i couldnt NOT describe their new suits. i just couldn't. they're leaning into the ghost culture of being scary as fuck looking #i feel a little cheesy for giving them magic jewelry that lets them hide their suits instantly #but i have to make up for danny's lack of ghost form SOMEHOW #damian just gets it too by association #if anyone is curious #Ellie's ghost form is identical to Danny's suit just the colors are inverted. so her suit is all white and her mask is all black #its not a starry au unless its got a read more #did anyone notice the Big Mama cameo from ROTTMNT #its because Danny's mask looks like Casey Jones Jr's mask from ROTTMNT without the red marks on the eyes #Danny and Damian's dynamic itches my brain #Danny: im calling Dad Rights - youre grounded #Damian: nnOOOO #also also. danny uses sign language if he's in view of the living since they could recognize his voice. damian does not yet know ASL #so thats on his 'languages to learn' list #although he is not seen by the public since he has school and ghost attacks happen around danny and not him #Red Huntress gives the Phantom so much shit when she sees his sidekick. Phantom tiredly explains that he had no choice - Wraith would have #come with anyways. truly a robin at heart.#“idc if you say no imma do vigilantism ANYWAY. i dont NEED ur permission” is robincore and bruce/danny going #“fine but i'm gonna make sure you dont DIE then”#clone^2

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madhatterbri · 4 months ago

Text

Truce | J.U.

Summary: Can I request a Jey Uso x girlfriend reader fic, please? Reader and Jey aren't on speaking terms at the moment but she along with Jimmy comes to his rescue when Ludwig Kaiser and Tiffany Stratton ambush him in the ring on Gunther's orders. And they make up at the end 🥰.

Happy Monday Night RAW and Elimination Chamber week, babes. ❤️

Requested by: The little kiwi that could

Jey Uso Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @miss-kuki-nz @surdelcielo @missbmc94 @magicalbuttertarts @hodgepodge-musings

"I don't know why you are fronting for real. You know you still love my brother. You wouldn't be in here if you didn't."

Your nostrils flared as you looked at the man on the television screen. He was playing it up to the crowd and doing his signature arm motions as he stood on the ropes in a corner. Pat McAfee and Michael Cole were in on it as well.

"Not at all, Jimmy. Gunther could mop the floor with him, and I wouldn't bat an eye," you scoffed. A lie you didn't have to tell. Anyone that ever thought of crossing Jey would be in for a world of hurt.

"Really?"

"Really, really."

Jey's twin brother tensed as he watched the monitors. Gunther may not be the one that was attacking Jey, but that didn't mean he would be immune to it. "What about Ludwig and Tiffany?"

You looked at him with a confused look. Out of everyone in the lockerroom, why would it be those two? Until you saw the worry on his face, did you realize something was wrong. Jimmy wasn't one to worry too much about Jey. He could hold his own. Despite your hardened stance regarding your stubborn boyfriend, you turned to look at the screen.

Tiffany was playing up to Jey. Her slender fingers twirled around her blonde locks. She had her head cocked to the side. Big, innocent doe eyes stared at him. A couple of times, she touched his chest. Jealousy boiled inside of your veins. This feeling intensified when Ludwig attacked Jey from the side. The Main Event wrestler never had a chance to defend himself.

"I am going to need you to get Tiffany. Are you coming?" Jimmy asked urgently. "I've been wanting to get my hands on that man for the dirt he throwing on my brother's name."

A part of you told yourself not to go. He could handle himself. Jey was a fighter and fought his way out of worse situations than this. Despite the battle between your brain and heart, your feet made you follow after Jimmy Uso. The love of your life couldn't go down like a chump.

The two of you ran down the ramp. The crowd cheered wildly as the two of you slid inside the ring. Jimmy was able to pull Ludwig off his brother with ease. Tiffany was a little harder to handle. The blonde wouldn't stay down. One lucky punch, and she made your nose bleed.

Thoroughly pissed off from having to save your boyfriend who you were currently mad at and getting blood on your new shirt, you clotheslined her over the top rope and to the floor. You were about to chase after her, but Ludwig suddenly appeared. The German ushered his girlfriend to the ramp while hurling insults at you.

"You okay, Mama?" He asked.

Not wanting to stick around, you rolled under the bottom ring and to the floor. You placed the top of your hand under your nose to hide some of the blood. As you made your way up the ramp, you swore you heard Jimmy yell at Jey to go after you.

"Man, she gonna yell at me again."

"She just saved your ass, go!"

Suddenly, Jey appeared next to you. Your handsome boyfriend that you loved dearly, yet happened to want to hit with your car.

You wanted to cry, scream, beg, anything to get the mix of emotions you were currently experiencing out. The pain was almost too much to handle. Tears begged to fall down. You almost wondered if she broke your nose. "It hurts a lot, Jey."

"Okay, hold on, baby girl, I got you."

Jey removed his white shirt and handed it to you. You balled up the shirt and carefully placed some of the fabric under your nose. Within seconds, blood splots appeared on the white fabric. Your boyfriend picked you up bridal style to carry you to medical. The shirt covered your eyes so you could cry without the cameras catching you at your weakest.

Much to your dismay, your boyfriend stayed in the medical room with you. You kept his shirt close to your nose. His scent had a strange calming effect. It reminded you of all the hard, long nights that the two of you experienced on the road together.

"You okay?" He asked to break the ice. Jey was sitting on a wooden chair as you lay on you back on the medical bed. You stared at the ceiling and sighed. There was no way this man would ask such a stupid question. Besides, he just ruined your revenge plan to get back at Tiffany for this.

"Aight I'll do the talking then. I wanted to thank you for having my back. Gunther would have probably come out if you and Big Jim hadn't intervened."

You blinked. "Don't mention it."

"You still mad at me?" He asked. Jey stood up from the chair. He grabbed your hand and kissed the top. His stupid face was only a few inches from yours.

Your eyes darted to the side, yet a smile broke on your face. One that reached your eyes. The same eyes that were currently supposed to show you were still mad at him.

"I know you smiling under there. You are probably gonna tell your little friends that I carried you here and broke first cause I missed your talk and laugh, huh?" He asked. The Samoan started to mock you. "I made him get on his knees and beg me for forgiveness."

Despite the pain, you laughed. The stubborn man may be a pain in the ass, but he was right. He laughed with you. His hand rubbed your forehead and hair. Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed your forehead.

"Keep babying me, and I guess we can have a truce."

#fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wrestling fanfic #jey uso fanfic #jey uso fanfiction #wwe jey uso #jey uso

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yuoimia · 1 year ago

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OUR SUMMER DREAM

summary: beneath the radiance of cloudless skies, a summer memory is tied between the two of you. days with them - summer edition!

characters: wanderer, xiao, diluc, alhaitham, neuvillette, kazuha, ayato, zhongli

notes: gn! reader, soft and sweet, fluff, teasing, wc: 1.3k

soft splashes of aquamarine waves, sparklers in hand, the flash of a digital camera - wanderer, xiao.

“don’t wander too far.”

“oh c’mon,” you exasperated, tugging his arm a bit harder again, letting a humoured laugh escape from your lips. “if you’re so scared of getting lost, then you should hold my hand-“

“i know what you’re planning,” he replied knowingly, lightly elbowing your side with his free hand, a fierce gaze reflecting the flickering embers of the sparkler in his other hand, twinkling and incandescent with matching ferocity that was rapidly dissipating.

you sighed and shook your head with a tut, accompanied with a lazy gesture towards the horizon, now swallowed in breathtaking shades of rich indigo and navy, streaked with the last ribbons of daylight.

the waves tumbled one over the other, idly lapping at the golden shore sprinkled with pearly shells and tangled seaweed, each swash permeating a stinging scent of salt.

“i promise i won’t push you into the water,” you nodded solemnly, pulling him and his skepticism closer. “i promise,” you enunciated, putting on what seemed like a confident expression of benevolence before refocusing your attention on the smooth sand delivered by the ocean.

“that’s not what i was worried about,” he muttered under his breath, making his way down to where you were, seemingly inspecting something in the sand, two newly lit sparklers in his hand, softly illuminating a golden path.

“cute, isn’t it?” you grinned, smiling adoringly at the red crab, crouching down further. “look!”

he looked, trying to find what was so amusing, only releasing too late the trap he had fallen into.

“say cheese!” you exclaimed, pulling something out of your bag instantly recognisable by the quantity of cat stickers and its signature flash.

double cuteness. an upturned crab and a certain wide-eyed person illuminating them both with the light of burning stars.

low whirrs of a running fan, windows thrown open, a bowl of freshly cut watermelon between the two of you - diluc, alhaitham.

any agonising second now, you’d pathetically melt into a miserable puddle on the cool vinyl floor.

any second now, you’d make a suffering groan, thrust the electric fan closer, and aimlessly stab a fork into the bowl of perfectly cut watermelon and momentarily delight in its juice before staring disinterestedly through the sheer curtains of the opened window, hugging your knees with your arms. there wasn’t much to do on an afternoon in one of the most insufferable summer heatwaves ever.

“why does it have to be so hot,” you complained to nobody in particular, patting your cheeks and forehead. there’s hasn’t been a single breeze in the last five minutes.

“you should find something to do,” a voice swept from behind. snapping your head backwards. you revealed a look of contempt in his direction. “it’s too hot to move.”

he examined you from where he was dusting the bookshelf, his fingers tracing the books with great care. “you’re moving your mouth.”

“even talking makes me exhausted,” you turned to shove another bite of watermelon, a ghost of a pout resting on your lips. it wasn’t as cool anymore, but rather unpleasant now that it had reached room temperature.

“with a mind like yours, i’d expect you to be able to easily entertain yourself,” he cooed, now sitting on the end of the bed, just above where you sat. further tilting his head downward, he brushed the loose strands of your hair, eyelashes fluttering in your peripheral vision. “unless…” came a soothing whisper, “you wanted my attention all along?”

when met with no reply other than your tentative gaze and deep breaths, he laughed, removing his hand from your hair and sitting back on the bed. “i was just joking.”

from our favourite spot for sunsets, ice creams in hand, wistful thoughts and eyes - neuvillette, kazuha

if you could, you’d polish this memory until it was clearer and brighter than any bygone jewel and store it in a small box sealed within layers of dreamy clouds, tied with a chain of love.

away from the ambience of the blaring city, out into the forgotten outskirts that always looked so far away, hidden under vine-covered overhangs, between the sharp scent of evergreen pine trees, cold and invigorating. through blooming meadows and woods of delicate wildflowers, sometimes met with a plain of deer and foxes. up here, up high, breathing in the quiet beauty, the rays of sunset hugging you both in a comforting embrace.

“it’s been a while since i’ve done something like this,” he whispers before releasing a fond laugh, his face tinged with the slightest pale hue of cherry, spreading from the apple of his cheeks to the line of his jaw, either from the bountiful crispness of the fresh breeze whipping through the windswept grass you both laid on, adorned with dandelions, and the hum of the last hardworking bees.

“hm, really? we should do this more often,” you acknowledged warmly, turning to lie on your side, propped up with an elbow. pushing a loose strand of hair from his face, you watched with no particular intention but to just look. not in an uneasy way, something more unattached, more open for thoughts to run free and connect once again.

he smiled at the linger of your touch, bringing a hand to lock yours in place just below his ear, between his neck. “you always come up with such wonderful ideas,” he murmured, the gentleness far from innocent, chuckling at your sudden rapt attention. “your ice cream is melting.”

vibrant vivid lights, screams and smiles, the delicious aroma of buttered popcorn - ayato, zhongli.

one might assume that he was enjoying this more than you were.

“don’t you think it’s time to give up?” you proposed, eyeing him and the fluorescent vending machine with profound disapproval when he had simply sighed, the glass reflection exhibiting his contemplative face. “it’s been nearly half an hour, you know.”

he turned briefly to raise an eyebrow, his hand still on the joystick. “didn’t you say you wanted the panda?”

he’s concerned about that? you feel a sudden urge to burst into laughter, or maybe even slap his hand, still stuck onto the motionless joystick.

“i’ll be fine without it,” you shook your head, rubbing your forehead with a smile towards the ground. winning or losing, the earnestness with which he took your previous offhand comment made the butterflies in your stomach soar a bit too high for such a casual night.

for a few seconds, silence simmered in the cool air, your eyes scanning the striped tents, the constellations of bubbles drifting behind the faces of happy children, the cheerful vendors and their tied bags of coins, landing on a particular cluster of food stalls beneath an arched entryway lit by twinkling amber fairy lights, failing to notice the inconspicuous set of eyes still fixed on you.

“do you want to eat something?” he finally asked, easily noting your prolonged attention at the bustling entryway. he intertwined your hands together, before faintly tugging you forward, tightening his hold as you began to navigate the busy lane, stopping at the first stall.

“there are so many things i want to try,” you breathed, bending down to analyse the chalkboard menu with a cursive title reading: specials.

but which ones to pick? you chewed over it, edging closer to the list. which one..

“are you finished?” came a hushed voice behind your ear. “we need to find a table before they all get taken.”

“what do you mean? i haven’t-“

standing above to your left, he smiled with a small sense of pride, his hands filled with the menu of specials.

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader #diluc x reader #alhaitham x reader #neuvillette x reader #kazuha x reader #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#anya writes ᝰ.ᐟ

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peachiekeaneart · 1 year ago

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Yall. Sign and date your art.

I’m serious. Put your name on your art. Put your actual signature on it if you want. Write out the full date. Make it obvious and central so it can’t easily be cropped or edited out. Make it slightly fuzzy around the edges for good measure. Make it all sorts of colors, textures, make it hard to remove fromyour art. Ask yourself “if i was an art thief, how much time and effort would it take me to remove my signature?” If the answer is less than an hour than make it harder.

If ppl want a copy that isn’t covered in your name, make em sign a contract that it’s for non ai, personal use only and make em pay for it.

I don’t care how amateur you are. I’ve been physically signing and dating my artwork since I was 9 years old. Every single one. Bc my mom told me that was the best way to make sure everyone knew it was yours. It’s literally the only good advice my mother has ever given me.

Sign your art. Proudly put your name, username, date, what program you used, how much time it took, whatever you want. Make it part of the piece. Make it so obvious who made it. If your art is getting stolen anyway, why not make it as hard to steal as possible. If someone wants to steal your artwork that badly make em fucking WORK for it.

Put your name on it

#art #art theft #ai art

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venusandsaturnsrings · 4 months ago

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been experiencing unusual amounts of religious guilt, posting to take my mind off of it. failing all my classes btw and the only thing keeping me going is that, if an afterlife is real, i’d be sent straight to suffering atp. anyways.

cw: sacrilege/blasphemy, implied former religious reader, reader implied to have PTSD, sunday takes advantage of your vulnerability, suggestive, and clothed intimacy.

pearls and other less valuable stones cutting into your hands, the rosary felt worthless clutched by someone who didn’t believe in front of a long abandoned alter. you imagined that perhaps in the past the hall would be full of joyous families accompanied by piano so happy it’d make you faint. yet now the only movement came from dust floating through the air and your occasional shifts and swallows.

you’d abandoned the concept of worship for an aeon that so clearly discarded you long ago. what did praise mean if it fell on the deaf ears of a being that couldn’t spare you a moment of reprieve? comfort could be found in old habits though, and knelt as you were the nostalgia simmered underneath your skin paired with lingering regret and sour memories. the rosary was leaving dents in your skin from how hard you held on and your eyes were dry from the time spent staring at the cracked symbols falling off the walls. you hoped in your next life, if there was one, you’d be allowed to live without the past clawing at your frontal lobe and maybe be so blessed as to have squeaky clean formative years.

you heard the decaying front door scrape open and closed. soon enough someone you had honestly hoped wouldn’t find you here sat at your side.

Sunday grasped your hands and gently unwound the rosary, briefly appraising it and if you had to guess, finding it of poor quality. you could feel his eyes stuck to your face. his former life was one built on similar religious practices, you knew that well, so his lack of words was presumably due to discomfort. after placing the rosary aside his hands came to hold your own and you wondered what it would be like to worship an angel as real as him.

“an unusual location for you,” his voice came out soft and measured, “i had always assumed you not to be the religious type.” his fingers drummed against the backs of your hands. “should i temporarily revive my position as Bronze Melodia?” if you weren’t so deep in your own pity maybe you’d have laughed but a hum was all you could manage. Sunday was silent as he removed one of his hands to stroke your cheek, following it with a chaste kiss. small intimacies weren’t unusual between the two of you but only occurring when he could tell you weren’t doing well as if the flesh could cure you. placid every time you didn’t completely mind but knew it served you no purpose. his lips travelled to you neck and he gently helped you shift to face away from the alter and towards him instead. “let’s remain covered, i can’t defile you like that here,” a white lie as he certainly could and would but you’d never fight back on small things like that. if it made him feel better, so be it.

his hands slipped lower as he manoeuvred himself to be behind you with knuckles running over every sensitive corner and your mouth was dry as you swallowed. chin resting upon your shoulder, he relaxed into you and sighed while his fingers worked you into relaxation. your heart tightened further betwixt guilt and shame but you sat stone still nonetheless. Sunday knew of your inner turmoil and reviled in it, tainting you in his own signature way. his fingertips rubbed and pressed in places that had you twitching as breathing steadily got harder. not once did he even attempt to move beyond the slightest bit of fabric. your head was somewhere else entirely as he soothed you up and over your high, smiling as you quivered and choked back soft sounds. he unraveled himself from behind.

you didn’t move until you were certain he was beyond the building. how much soap would be enough to feel clean?

#cw: sacrilege #cw: ptsd #cw: power imbalance #sunday x reader #sunday x you #honkai x reader #honkai x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you

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f1goat · 2 years ago

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his teammate + lando norris x part nine

In which you find yourself getting closer to your brothers new teammate who's a dick.

lando norris x fem!verstappen (sister) + cursewords + smut

Y/N: fuck lan

Y/N: it’s insane how hot you look on the podium

Lando: meet me in my drivers room.

Y/N: sure? What if someone sees?

Lando: now babygirl.

Excited you walk towards Lando his drivers room. This was exactly the response you hoped for. The race has left you all worked up. You didn’t expect it to have such an impact on you. Last week you barely saw Lando and in the race weekend it was even harder to have time alone with him. But after seeing Lando on the podium looking like that, you seem to care a bit less about risks like this.

When you open the door, Lando is already standing close to you. He’s quick to pull you into the small room and shut the door behind. Before you know it, he is all over you. You feel Lando his lips onto your neck. He’s leaving small kisses everywhere.

“Fuck Lan,” you sigh when he sucks on a bit of your skin. He removes his lips from your skin, you’re quick to change your position. You drop on your knees, making your intentions quite obvious towards Lando. He smirks. You wait for him to pull of his race suit. Something that doesn’t take him too long. He’s standing in front of you in his briefs in no time.

You bring your hand to his briefs, slowly you palm his already hardened member through them. Lando lets out a soft groan. “Don’t tease,” he mutters. You show him a small smile before removing his briefs as well. His member springs free on instant. You bring your hand towards it, slowly you stroke him.

“You looked so hot on the podium,” you tell Lando again.

“Maybe I should fuck you on the podium once,” Lando replies boldly.

You laugh, “I’d like to see you try.”

Lando lets out a moan when you take the tip of his member into your mouth. You use a bit of spit to make sure you can slide easily around him with your mouth. Slowly you start to bob your head a bit and take him in and outside your mouth over and over again. Lando grunts. You use your hand to stroke the bit you can’t fit into your mouth. You increase your pace.

“Fuck babygirl,” Lando moans when you start to suck a bit more. He lets his hands slide through your hair, before grabbing a few loose strands. He pulls them softly. It causes you to look up at Lando. He shows you another signature smirk, something you start to grow fond of.

You increase your pace once more. If you’re right, Lando can come every moment now. You notice his short breaths and the soft moans that keep coming out of his mouth. You use your free hand to apply a bit of pressure onto his balls. Softly you knead them a bit. That was all Lando needed. The simple movement pulls him right into his orgasm.

Lando stays silent while he watches you. He sees the way you suck him empty and how you lick the last drop of his cum away. He realizes how different things are with you. Of course he had blowjobs before - a lot even, but not one of them felt like this. He almost worries about who caused you to be this good at it. He helps you stand up and guides you towards the small sofa in the room. Together you sit down in silence. Lando pulls you close towards himself, causing you to lay onto him. Not that you mind.

“If that was only a celebration for P3 I can’t wait to win a race,” Lando jokes to you.

“Was it okay?” You ask nervous, “I never did something like that before by someone else.”

“You never did that before?” Lando asks confused, he needs to make sure that he heard you right. He can’t believe his ears at this moment. He probably just heard what he wanted to hear.

“Only last time with you,” you answer, “and now.”

“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando sighs relieved, “you’re a natural.”

It’s insane how good he feels now that he knows you have only done that for him. Only for him. That must be the best thing he has heard today. Even better then his third place. You look up at Lando and notice his smile. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against his lips. Lando pulls you even closer against himself.

+++

“Where were you?” Max asks you.

You try to think of some excuse. Fuck, you’re the worst right now. Max just won a race and you were busy with giving his teammate a blowjob. Lando shows up behind you.

“Sorry I stole her from you,” Lando tells your brother, “I had a question about a present.”

“A present for who?” Max asks him interested, “Have you found a girlfriend?”

Lando doesn’t answer anymore, he just winks at you and Max while he walks away. You let out a relieved sigh. He really saved you.

“I must confess, he’s really getting better,” Max tells you, “I even start to like him.”

“That’s great,” you reply to Max, “I think he’s trying.”

“I think so too,” Max says, “and maybe I need to try a bit more as well. I’ll ask him to come over for dinner when we’re back in Monaco.”

“That seems nice,” you answer. Fuck how are you going to manage a dinner with Lando and your brother without showing Max what’s happening between the two of you? You sigh.

“What kind of present was he looking for?” Max asks you.

“Uh, to be honest something for you,” you improvise. You almost slap yourself. That’s the worst answer ever. “For the win or something,” you continue to lie.

“That’s nice.”

Max walks off and you pull out your phone as soon as you can. Quickly you type a text to Lando.

Y/N: you might have to get Max a present

Lando: you’re the worst liar ever

Lando: you better help me think of something

+++

“I miss you,” Lando sighs.

You feel your cheeks reddening. At the moment your FaceTiming with Lando, something the two of you do quite often.

“And you look really cute when you blush,” Lando adds before you can respond to his earlier statement.

“I miss you too,” you tell him, “but in a few you’ll come for dinner, right?”

“Yeah, but that’ll be even harder,” Lando replies, “It’s hard for me to act like there’s nothing going on between us.”

“We really need to act tonight,” you say, “Kelly is also here and she notices those things way better then Max.”

“Yes, yes,” Lando laughs, “You have only told me that like a hundred times before.”

“Sorry,” you reply with a grin.

“I promise I’ll behave,” Lando says, “but only if no one starts about Pierre again.”

You get Lando his words. A few days ago you got another text from Pierre, asking you for a date once again. You kindly replied that you weren’t interested, but it seemed like the message wasn’t clear enough. He keeps reaching out to you every day. Not only by text, but also on other socials. He replies on your Instagram photo’s as well. Something Lando really dislikes. Fans are already starting rumors about Pierre and you. Dating rumors even.

“Even then you need to behave,” you tell Lando.

Lando groans annoyed. You laugh at him.

“When are you free to do something together?” Lando asks you, “Because I really want to see you without others around.”

“Tomorrow?” You suggest.

“Deal.”

“Now I really need to get ready,” you tell Lando, “so I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay babe, see you later.”

A small hour later you’re ready for the dinner. You couldn’t help yourself and dressed up a bit more then you’d do normally for a casual dinner. While looking at yourself in the mirror you spray a bit of perfume on. The dress you’re wearing fits you nicely, but is a bit more on the wide side then normally. The skirt is floating around your legs. It’s a dark blue color, something that reminds you of RedBull. Maybe you should wear it to a race once. Camera’s are on you a lot there and fashion is getting more and more important on track.

When you walk downstairs, you already hear the bell ringing.

“I’ll get it,” you yell to Max and Kelly. That will give you a small minute alone with Lando. You walk towards the door and open it. Lando is quick to look at you.

“Fuck you look good,” he tells you quickly.

“Does every compliment need a curse word?” You ask Lando jokingly.

“They show how much I mean it,” he replies.

You press a fast kiss against Lando his lips. Then you take him towards the dining room with you. Lando looks around while walking in Max his apartment. He notices different photos on the wall and is quick to spot you on a couple of those as well.

“No Jos?” He asks you while still looking at the photos, “At least not on the same photos as you’re on,” he adds.

“That’s a longer conversation,” you tell Lando, “but I’ll explain it to you, maybe tomorrow.”

Lando can’t reply to you anymore, Max and Kelly are already standing close by the two of you. Lando thinks about his own family issues, he only told his friend Max about those. Maybe it will be nice to talk about it with you as well? It seems like you also have some problems. It doesn’t surprise him a lot, he didn’t officially met Jos but he already has an opinion about the Verstappen father.

“Hey!” Max greets Lando enthusiastically. Kelly is quick to greet him the same way. Lando hands Max a gift bag. You almost laugh about it. He is saving your lie. You didn’t even think about that anymore.

“I uh,” Lando starts his sentence, but he’s quick to fall silent for a bit. This isn’t his thing, but he knows he needs to do this. “I wanted to thank you for the second chance,” he continues, “I know I’ve been an ass and don’t really deserve it. So thanks I guess.”

Max is stunned. Kelly also looks surprised.

“That’s unnecessary,” Max says eventually, “but I appreciate it man. It goes both ways, I’m glad we fixed things.”

Lando gives him a small smile. In the mean time Max unwraps the gift. You smirk when you notice it’s something for his cats. It seems like Lando picked out a present which you normally give to an old cat lady, but thank god you brother is one of those as well. Max instantly starts to smile. He unwraps the cat treats and toys while talking about how amazing it is.

Dinner flies by. You’re surprised by how much Lando and Max are talking with each other. It almost seems like they’re friends. You think about how Max will react when you’ll tell him about Lando and you. Maybe it’s better to wait a bit longer. Now Max is starting to like Lando, that’s better. If they keep this friendly with each other you could tell your brother.

When Lando leaves Max is talking full enthusiasm about him and how the evening went. Kelly beams and agrees with him as well. They both talk about how much Lando has changed in such a short time.

“I wonder for who,” Kelly says after a while.

“For the team I guess,” Max replies.

Kelly laughs loudly. “RedBull is great Max, but not that great,” she says, “this isn’t for the team, there’s someone else.”

“Someone else?” You ask surprised.

“A girl,” Kelly answers, “boys don’t change like that except when they’re in love with someone.”

“You think?” Max asks.

“Look at yourself Max, you changed a lot since we started dating,” Kelly explains, “I’m not saying it’s all for the girl, but she’s probably the reason behind his motivation.”

Could it be that Kelly is right? Then you should be that girl, right? Is Lando changing this much for you? He did tell you that he is trying to better himself for you. You start to blush when you think about it.

“Who can it be?” Max asks, “I haven’t seen him with a girl for a while.”

“It can be that he isn’t dating her, maybe he’s just in love,” Kelly replies.

“Maybe it’s you!” Max suddenly says while looking at you. “He’s always interested in you lately,” Max adds to explain himself, “like he asks about you a lot.”

“I don’t think so,” you stammer.

“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Kelly replies, “he looks at you a lot.”

“He does not,” you reply.

Max and Kelly share a glance with each other. They’re both thinking the same, but they’re not telling you about it. They know it will come later.

+++

Later that night you’re texting with Lando while making yourself ready for bed. When you pull of your dress, you notice a new text message from Lando popping up.

Lando: did I behave good enough?

Y/N: you were the best

Y/N: you should have heard them about you, they were really excited!

Lando: sooo how will you thank me?

Y/N: thank you?

Lando: i did something for you, so now you can do something for me ;)

Without giving it a second thought you look at yourself in the mirror. You look at your matching black lace lingerie set. Then you snap a photo of yourself. Quickly you send it to Lando.

Lando: fuuuuck princess

Lando: i can’t wait to have you for myself tomorrow

Y/N: ;)

part ten

taglist ; @whore8io & @chonkybonky & @love4lando & @eviethetheatrefreak

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

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tallulahneale · 5 months ago

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Title: Intimate Friends

Pairing: Vince staples x fem!reader (Lula)

Summary: Lula and Vince get high, a heavy topic comes up that leads them being closer than close. (Shoutout to @bendoverboo for the inspo)

NB: I made some changes; Vince has asthma so he doesn’t smoke.

Warnings: Sexual content, 18+

Word count: 3k

Part 2

Part 1 Working from home was the best decision Lula made today, it’s Friday! Washday was done last week, fridge fully stocked and brownies are in the oven baking. She had not seen Vince since he moved out of his condo in Long beach to a place in Anahiem Hills. His IG was so lowkey that he didn't even post a room tour, but from their facetime calls the house looked huge!

She was going to be the best houseguest ever, with a cute little aloe plant and a tray of brownies. Reminiscing, she felt a little nervous as her last experience with edibles left her flustered and throbbing for 7 hours straight. I will pace myself this time, she thinks to herself.

Wearing her purple mitts, she carefully removes the hot baking tray from the oven and places it on the counter to cool down while she gets dressed.

She hops in the shower, using her dove vanilla body wash and tahitian bean body scrub. The scent travels through the bathroom and sits lightly on her skin. Air drying and unwrapping her silk press she moisturises with cocoa bean bodybutter, Who needs underwear? she giggles to herself as she slips into a knitted dress and everyday flats.

Once dressed she moves back to the kitchen, only to be stopped by her phone ringing.

“New nails, who this?”

“Hilarious” Vince deadpans “Lula Tallulah, you still coming over?”

“Of course! With a surprise too!” She beams.

“Unless it’s a gift card, I don’t want it.”

“Ewww, you still collecting gift cards? Oldie.” she snickers.

“I am a practical man” he says shrugging his shoulders, “Anyway, call me when you get here, don’t want my neighbors getting blind from your uncuteness.”

“Boy you know that’s a bold face lie, I’ll see you in 20!”

She hangs up, packs her LV mini pochette with lipgloss, phone, house keys and heads to the kitchen. The brownie tray is much cooler now allowing her to make square slices and sorting them in plastic containers. After she cleans up, Lula looks around to make sure she has everything. With the aloe plant in hand and the container in a bag she heads out.

She follows the waze map and pulls into his driveway. As she steps out, she looks around in awe at the neighborhood.

“Oooo he got moneyyy!” she giggles, the Quinta Bronson vine runs through her mind.

“Quit playing and come inside” Vince shakes his head standing at the open doorway. She jumps not expecting him to hear her, but laughs even harder as she steps through the door. The house has a distinct warm and homely feel with the signature scent of Vince; honey, sandalwood and a subtle peppermint undertone. 'The scent of a man' she nods to herself. He gives her a mini tour of his house, from the entrance to the garden and his creative workspace.

“Your place is so homely and comfortable Vince. I like it much more than your old apartment”, she adds handing him the gift of a house plant and the container of brownies.

“It’s not a gift card, but I’ll take” He collects them and leads her to the kitchen.

“Thank you Lula” expressing his gratitude, he hugs Lula and her scent engulfs his senses. “Mhmm, you smell really good.”

Lula looks up at him shyly, as she reluctantly pulls away from the embrace, already missing his body heat somehow. She walks around the kitchen trying to distant herself from the building tension and checks the fridge for a distraction.

“Ooo you got peach iced tea and pure pressed apple juice, my favourite!”

“Yeah you put me on that and I’m forever grateful” Vince admits with a nod “none of that piss-colored GMO slop.”

Just as Lula reaches for the bottle, Vince steps behind her to grab two glasses. She subtly leans back into him as she feels his presence, Vince purposefully leans forward to steal the attention of her scent once more.

“Hey, I’m down here Vince!” she fake shouts, feeling a tingly sensational in her lower tummy and feather-like tickles on her toes.

“My bad babygirl, you sure you’re 5’8?” He snickers as he glances down at her before moving to grab a plate for the brownies. Lula shivers and follows him to the counter, she brushes her ample chest against his upper arms as she saunters to where he is stood.

“You pressing up on me makes me feel things Vince” Lula whispers as she tip-toes to breathe onto the curve of his ear “Hope you know you got the right one…”

Vince blinks twice as he takes in what she said, watching her leisurely stroll away in the temptingly far-from-innocent dress. ‘Wait, is she wearing panties?’ He thinks to himself staring extra hard with each step taken.

“Fuck me” he mutters to himself.

“Did you say something?” Lula asks as she sits on the loveseat, flicking through Spotify for a neo-soul playlist.

Vince doesn’t respond and stays composed taking two slices of the brownies and a jug for the apple juice to the centre table. He places the treats down and lounges on the armrest, right beside Lula.

“Since you're being brave today” Vince says, taking a deep breath to enjoy her scent and watch the dilation of her pupils “I said, Fuck. Me.” He stares at Lula with a smouldering gaze as he smirks.

———————

There was a shift in the room, Vince and Lula could feel the thickness of the air as the tension built, raising goosebumps on their skin as the soothing melody of Ari Lennox plays in the background.

No one says a word.

Lula takes a shallow breath in, as she snacks on her brownie slice already feeling the mellow vibe. Vince has an arm spread across the headrest of the couch, his hand just a few inches from caressing her clavicle and the other on his phone mindlessly scrolling. She can feel her centre pulsating with thoughts of the two words he had spoken, her mind runs wild and she clenches her thighs together feeling the telltale signs of wetness.

‘Is he going to touch me?’ She thinks to herself as she glances at his hand perched on the headrest. Lula watches his fingers play with the fabric, ‘manly hands’ she thinks to herself, quickly looking away.

From the corner of his eyes, Vince catches her watching his subtle movements as she squirms on the couch and plays with the hem of her dress as it rests across her mid thigh.

“These brownies are really good Lula, you change the recipe or something?” He tries to get her to look at him, hoping she can feel the passion radiating from his fixed gaze.

“Thank you” she says softly as she quickly meets his eyes then looks away “Yeah I used a little less cannabutter this time… maybe that’s why.”

“Yeah, might be it. I’m feeling real good babygirl. Real good.” he repeats nodding at her.

She stays quiet.

“Vinc-”

“Lu-”

She looks up at him as there sharing a comfortable smile and Vince nods for her to speak.

“Go on Lula”

“… I-I want to ask you a question” she stutters nervously.

“If it’s about the wall art, please do not” he jokes, easing her nerves. She relaxes and rolls her eyes,

“Now that you mentioned it, who would pay you to paint.”

“That was not a question babygirl”

“You’re distracting me” she mutters but continues “I want to ask you about platonic cuddling”

“What do you mean?”

“Imagine holding a stuffed bear, but instead of a bear…”

“It’s a person” he finishes her sentence, wondering where she is going with this.

“Have you ever thought about” she takes a quiet breath in, “… you know… cuddling with a friend?”

He smirks, as he runs the back of his fingers across her shoulder and up the side of her neck. Lula trembles as she feels her nipples tighten, leaning into his gentle touch.

“Do you mean cuddling with you?” Vince asks, he has never been the type to beat around the bush. Lula plays with the hem of her dress and whispers a small “Yes”, as she turns to curl her legs up on the couch. This innocent action hikes up her dress even more, enough to keep her pussy covered but the scent of her wet musk melts into the air as she faces him.

“Lula if we were to just cuddle, would you like that?” He asks moving his fingertips over her pulse, tracing lines around the back of her neck.

“Y-Yeah, you’re cool and we kno-“

“Listen to the question babygirl, just cuddling?” He emphasises as he stops his gentle caress and places his hand back on the headrest “A hug while laying down.”

Lula feels unspoken words catch in her throat and as he moves his hand back to the couch, a soft whimper desperately make its way out. Vince shifts closer to her, not touching or reaching out but making sure she feels his presence. From his scent to his aura to the feel from the cannabutter, she whines.

“You don’t want a platonic cuddle do you?”

“No” she replies softly

“Do you want me to reach across and caress you?”

“Yes” she nods feverishly

“Okay then” Vince whispers as he leans closer to her “when you're ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.”

From her position he can see the intersection of her thighs meeting her centre. As he takes a deep breath in, he welcomes the hint of her vanilla scent and the taste of her musk as it drifts up into the air, teasing his senses once more. Lula freezes feeling hot bothered and frustrated,

“Don’t play with me like that, I’m ready to talk Vince”

“You sure?”

“Yes yes I’m sure” she replies hurriedly. Vince has a look of satisfaction in his eyes as he beckons her to continue.

“I want us to cuddle” she pleads “and I want you to touch me more”

“Where baby, you need to talk”, he replies, coaxing her to share her hidden secrets. Lula hesitates before making up her mind.

“Can I show you instead?” She whispers. Vince feels his dick stiffen at her tone, not knowing what she has in mind but excited to see what she will do.

Lula gently reaches for his hand, as she widens her legs, creating an opening for him. She positions it between her thighs and up to her wetness.

“I want you to touch me here” she says breathlessly, his hand is tucked close to her sweet spot as his fingertips press against her wet slit.

Vince breathes heavily. His mind is racing, his stiffening bulge grows and with what his fingers are feeling, makes him want to suck her dry.

“Why you ain’t wearing any panties babygirl?” Vince leans forward, running his fingers up to her clit and back down to the pool of wetness. Teasingly brushing at her lower lips, he sucks on her neck and grazes her pulse with his teeth.

“Answer me or this ends here and I will leave you soaking wet with nothingness.”

“I don’t know” She moans, basking in the feel of his voice against her ear and fingers soothing her ache. She desperately grinds against his hand, building more friction not wanting it to end.

“You have one chance to answer me, don’t get yourself in trouble” Vince warns, ghosting his thumb across her sensitive nub.

She whimpers at this, his lips sucking at the juncture of her neck as his tongue dampens the skin. Her eyes flutter and squeeze as she indulges in the teasing of his fingers at her dripping centre.

“Please Vince” Lula begs, too shy to confess that she didn’t wear panties because she wanted to see how far she could push him. She could not let him know this, but begin left untouched was far worse. Without warning, Vince pulls his lips away from her neck and she quivers. As he begins to slither his hand from between her thighs, she squeezes them to keep it trapped.

“Wait!” she whines “I just wondered if anything could happen between us.”

With his hand secured at her centre, he firmly rubs up her slit and pushes past her folds. Dipping into the source of her waterfall, she clenches her teeth and her eyes drifts to his fierce gaze.

“So you come to my house, with no panties” his fingers glide against the tight walls of her pussy “with no bra” he cups her breast while sucking at a the nipple through the fabric “and expect to platonically cuddle?”

Vince smirks up at her as he sees a look of submission in Lula that is unlike anything. He is intrigued. He lounges back against the armrest of the couch, his fingers teasingly move away from her sweet spot. She whimpers as he stares into her soul sucking them clean.

“Lula”

“Yeah” her voice is barely a whisper.

“This is not how platonic cuddling starts” Vince stated as he gathers the composure to stand up from the couch, turning towards the direction of his room.

“Vince wait-“

“Why you still sitting down? Come with me Tallulah” Vince beckons as he holds out his hand towards her.

“You came here for something, right babygirl?” she nods “Good. I’m going to give you much more.”

On shaken legs like a new born calf, she follows Vince down the hallway to his room.

———-

Next chapter is a home run!

Hope y'all enjoyed part 1 shoutout to @bendoverboo18!

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adobe-outdesign · 11 months ago

Note

Have you reviewed the Bruce, and particularly my favorite variety of the Bruce (the ULTRA ultra UC version)?

(I don't have any Pokemon review requests in my inbox right now but I do have a few Neopet requests, so I'll go ahead and do one of those.)

I might as well talk about the history of the Bruce first, because while I don't normally bother going over past iterations for these reviews everyone should know that the first incarnation of the Bruce was a 150 x 150 photograph of esteemed British entertainer Bruce Forsyth sloppily recolored and slapped onto a circle. I literally could not make this up if I tried.

While the Bruce isn't the only Neopet that started off as a human, it A) was the only one to start with a realistic photograph instead of a caricature, and B) is also the only one to retain some aspects of its human design: namely the signature bow(tie) and the name (plus penguins already look like they're wearing suits in a way).

Visually, today's modern Bruce is pretty cute. It's mostly just a standard penguin, but they've got very appealing faces and a sort of plush chubbiness to them that not a lot of Neopets sport. While pets wearing clothes by default isn't always my favorite thing, the bow does work well with everything else and still makes sense in-universe for anthro Bruces (side note: the irony of an anthro Bruce is not lost on me).

The body is broken up with distinct markings that are based off of emperor penguins—though ironically, they're based on emperor chicks, to the point where the Baby Bruce is just a slightly smaller version of the regular Bruce. The Bruce does extend the face markings down into an underbelly however, which looks very natural and helps to break up the torso.

Visually, nothing really changed about the Bruce with customization other than it standing up and gaining a fist. I think I like the converted version a bit more, as while the original pose was cute it was also harder to see aspects of the design (like the tail). The flipper anatomy and general lineart/details have also been greatly approved. Also, the bow became removable, which is a bonus.

Favorite Colours:

Island: A surprisingly nice take on the colour, the island Bruce has an usually dark brown palette, which pops nicely with the white markings and compliments the flowers and greenery nicely. The markings are well-placed with good thought as to how they interact with the body shape and the green eyes are pretty and draw the color through the design well. The floral accents can also be removed, which provides a pretty nice base colour as well.

Wraith: The wraith Bruce is quite a bit different than most takes on the colour. Wraith pets are usually flat with intricate body shapes—think like a tattoo. However, the wraith Bruce opts for a more solid body shape that uses subtle gradients and very carefully placed highlights to give it a sense of depth. The face and beak look really good here, and the way the white highlights on the edge of the body fade off into nothing is really cool. My only minor quibble is that I wish there was one thin line indicating the underbelly markings, as the torso looks a bit too solid here.

Toy: The toy Bruce is slightly redundant because the plushie Bruce is already a thing, but between the two, I do like the toy design a bit more. The flocked and fluffy look is super cute and works great for the pet, and I like the contrast between the hard flippers and beak and the rest of the body. The penguin-like monotone body color is offset by the red bow, which has a nice subtle plaid pattern to it. My only nitpick is that I would've just dropped the single head feather entirely, as it looks out of place and doesn't really make logical sense. Still, good stuff all around.

#neopets #neotag #bruce #neopet reviews

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ladycrocy · 9 months ago

Text

Doffytober - Day 15 - Chains

Doflamingo X afabReader

Summary: You have defied your Master and he seeks to punish you accordingly. Since your master is Doflamingo, this is never a basic spanking. Instead, he forces you to push your body to its limits to keep yourself alive while he uses a bullwhip on your body. ((Please note that I cannot draw but I really REALLY wanted to contribute to my main man's month!))

Inspired to write this due to this post!

Content Warning: Master/Slave, Verbal Abuse, Impact play, life-threatening choking, Bondage, Chains

AO3

Word Count: 1005

You awoke in darkness.

Chained to a wall in only a button-up shirt that was unbuttoned and a pair of panties. The last thing you remembered was defying Master's request. Doflamingo had always stated that his punishment was severe, but you never took him seriously. Despite him being one of the most terrifying man you had ever met. Most even dubbing him the Heavenly Demon. Still, this never seemed to scare you enough to keep you away from him. You had easily gained his attention at one of the many festivals of Dressrosa. The power and challenge of him inticed you more than it should have.

The sound of his dress shoes echoed on the hard wood floors through the 'punishment room' until you heard

a click and then blinded by a single light in the middle of the room. Once your eyes were able to adjust, you saw your Master towering over you, silhouetted by the light behind him. His pink feathery coat only seemed to make him look that much bigger to someone small and vulnerable as you were right now. You were too scared to talk back this time. Doflamingo bent down and undid your chains, and with a massive hand, grabbed both of your wrists

roughly. With ease, the Warlord was able to lift you to your feet. His voice was domineering and deep as he gave you orders.

"Place your hands behind your back." Doflamingo's eyes seemed to pierce through his red tinted glasses into yours. Quickly, you did as you were told, and he bound them firmly with pink colored cuffs that were chained together. "You filthy cunt.. You forced my hand.. Now you will be punished. Do not worry, though. You will quickly learn how to be an obedient slave... or die trying.."

That last line sent chills down your spine. He led you to two stools that were two feet apart. Doflamingo gently assisted you to stand on top of them. Due to his height, he was able to reach your neck, where he placed a hook that clipped to the slave collar he had procured for you. Your heart began to pound as you realized exactly what was happening. Your legs were forced to spread a part on unbalanced stools with you forced to stand on the balls of your feet rather uncomfortably. If you were to lose balance, you would end up hanging yourself.

The chain was pulled tight at your neck. Doflamingo trailed his hand softly at your skin under the shirt before opening the shirt and revealing your perky breasts. His hands ran up your body, grazing the underside of your mounds and

crossing your hard nipples with his thumbs.

Your cheeks flushed, and you closed your eyes tight as you bit your lip. A smirk came to Doflamingo's lips as he stepped back from you, releasing his gentle caress. This caused you to open your eyes and watch the beast of a man you call Master.

The Warlord had stepped away with his back to you. He was grabbing something from the table. When he turned to you, you saw he was holding a pitch black leather bull whip. Your eyes instantly started to water as you began to plead. "M-Master no I... Please don't I promise.."

He held a finger to his lips and replied, "Shhhh... The more you plead, the harder I will swing. Now be a good girl and accept your punishment." Biting the whip in his teeth, with his predatory gaze, he removed his signature coat and rolled up his sleeves slowly. He snapped his wrist to the side, and the whip made a loud, terrifying crack. Your legs started to shake, causing the stools to wobble. The tug of the chain around your collar pulled at your neck, firm and uncomfortable.

Doflamingo swung back and let the whip fly. The first contact was at the side of your panties, which caused the material to give way to the impact and rip. His aim was perfect as the next three cracks caused the tattered fabric of your panties to fall from your body onto the floor. The next two hits crossed your nipples and you let out a loud scream. No matter the pain, your juices began to drip from your exposed womanhood. The juices pooled onto the floor next to the fallen fabric of the panties. Your screams pleased the Warlord, as his smile widened into a sadistic grin. His obscene tongue fell from his lips. "What a delicious looking mess you are creating, slave. I do love to see a needy cunt dripping for me and me alone~"

With every hit of the whip your legs shook and caused the stools to shake more. Then, the unthinkable happened. He reeled back and swung much harder. The whip made contact with your exposed womanhood. Your scream echoed throughout the palace. Your knees tried to buckle to instinctively close your legs to protect your most sensitive area. However, if you were to do that, the stools would fall, and you would hang yourself. So it took every ounce of control you could muster to force your legs to stay open and keep your pussy exposed.

Doflamingo smirked with a chuckle, watching your body squirm and shake. He swung again, directly hitting your overly sensitive clit. Your legs trembled, and the stools threatened to give way again. Your punishment went on like this for what seemed like hours. Even though it was more like minutes.

He paused to come over and placed his hand over your red and swollen area, roughly massaging the moist folds of your pussy. "You always were a masochistic little slut weren't you?~ I bet you are enjoying this... Beg me for more.~"

Your voice was shaky and you were gasping for air. Your body glistened with sweat, but you replied weakly, "P-Please Master... M-more... Punish my naughty pussy more...~"

Doflamingo chuckled and stood back. "Very well, Slut... I will stop going easy on you.~"

Banner creator

#one piece #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #doffy #doflamingo x reader #one piece fanfiction #doffytober2024

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mimic-man · 1 year ago

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⚠️Warnings⚠️

Fingering/prepping, Unprotected sex, Bondage, the twins don't do things to each other you do things to them

Sorry if this is bad this is my first time writing smut 🥲

☆࿐ཽ༵༆༒༒༆࿐ཽ༵☆

You were in transfiguration class taking notes and doing the assignment. You could feel eyes on you and when you look up you can see both of the twins trying to play it cool which just makes you smile to yourself.

You've known for a while now that they both have a crush on you. Surprisingly enough they haven't made a move so you were sorta getting tired of waiting.

You walk over passing a note to them and play it off as you were just going to talk to your friend.

The note read: "You two meet me in the dorm room next class"

And so... they did

☆࿐ཽ༵༆༒༒༆࿐ཽ༵☆

Fred: "Hey Y/n what's up?" He asks with a grin as they both sit down

You smile and respond

"You've both been staring at me for a while now" You respond in a low smug voice

They both turn slightly red and try and play it off by laughing

George: "We have no idea what you are talking about"

"Oh but I think you do" You respond with a grin

☆࿐ཽ༵༆༒༒༆࿐ཽ༵☆

George was pinned underneath you moaning as you prepped him. Fred was squirming and tied up as you made him watch as you fingered his twin.

"You are doing so good George~" You say with a grin as your fingers brush against his sweet spot making him moan louder.

George: "Please please please- Ah~ Fuck~"

Fred: "Please for Merlin's sake Y/n hurry up before I get soft over here" He says in a bored sounding voice even though he was in fact not bored at all

"The more you complain Fred the longer I'll take and the longer you'll be tied to the bed" You say in a firm voice

You then remove your fingers from George and walk over to your nightstand grabbing a small bottle of lube and a condom before you come back.

George: "No no... No condom please~" He begs

You chuckle softly and just set the condom aside "Okay if you wish" You say before you start to lube yourself up

Fred: "Fuck just hurry up" He says in a frustrated tone as he squirms more but because of him being tied to the bed he can't do anything

You chuckle again before you enter George slowly making him moan as you did

"Good boy George~" You say as you slowly start to move in and out

George was a moaning mess underneath you moaning your name and curses.

George: "Ah- Fuck me~ Y/n~" he moans out

Eventually George moans out "Ah!~ Fuck I'm close~ Please please don't stop please Y/n~"

You place your hand on the small of his back as your thrust start to become sloppy and eventually you and George both hit your climaxes together.

☆࿐ཽ༵༆༒༒༆࿐ཽ༵☆

George has left to wash off leaving you with Fred who was still tied up.

Fred: “Come on you’ve made me wait long enough~” He says with his signature grin.

You chuckled before untying him finally once he did he pulls you into his lap.

He pulls you into a passionate kiss as his tongue explores your mouth and move your hips.

Fred: “I think I deserve a reward after being so patient~” He says with a mixture of lust and mischief

“You were not patient at all!” You say with a laugh

Fred: "Still~" He says as he moves your body telling you what he wants

"What do you want me to ride you?~" You respond with a wide grin

Fred: "What told you that?~"

☆࿐ཽ༵༆༒༒༆࿐ཽ༵☆

You moved up and down as your head fell back and Fred’s hands were on your hips making you move faster.

“Mm…~ Fuck Fred~” You moan as he bites your neck

His hands grip your hips harder making you move every faster drawing both of you closer to your climaxes.

After a minute he pins you to the bed and starts to move his hips hard and fast making you see stars.

By how rough he was being it was clear he was chasing his own climax as he railed deep into you.

Fred: “Cum for me~” He says in a deep and husky voice

As soon as he says that you feel the knot in your stomach snap as your climax spills out all over your stomach.

Following right after you he releases deep inside of you groaning as he did.

Fred: “Fuck that feels good” He says as his body relaxes against yours

After a minute you both clean up your legs shaky as you did eventually you both get dressed and George comes back.

George: “Soo what does this mean? Are you ours?” He asks you after a minute

You smile softly and nod

“Yes of course I am”

#male reader #male x male reader #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley twins #Weasley twins x male reader #smut

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yuurei20 · 2 years ago

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Jamil Info Compilation part 12: Kalim (pt1)

Jamil apologizing to other people on Kalim’s behalf is not unusual, such as when Kalim makes a rude comment to Riddle, when he runs physically into Malleus and when a vendor at a marketplace in their hometown complains about a time when child-Kalim pretended to ride one of the non-flying carpets he had for sale.

(This interaction is the one and only time where we have ever seen Jamil refer to Kalim with the “-sama” honorific. EN has translated “-sama” as a variety of different thing -such as “Master,” “O Great,” “O mighty,” “Count,” “Sir” and “Mr.,” but in this case it was removed.)

Jamil also apologizes to Malleus for the actions of an ice cream vendor during Firelit Sky.

It is very common for Jamil to refer to the task of waiting on Kalim as “babysitting,” which may be why Ruggie, Ridddle and Cater also use it to describe their dynamic.

In Book 5 Azul is only able to realize that Jamil is the mastermind behind the issues at Scarabia because "Jamil was the only person Kalim would care about enough to fight back against Jade’s signature spell.”

Kalim does his best to make excuses for Jamil to give him the opportunity to deny it but eventually Floyd, Jade and Azul are able to convince him that Jamil did actually betray him, and that Kalim drove him to it.

Kalim declares that he will return to Scarabia to punch Jamil and call him a traitor, but after they rescue Jamil from his overblot, he begins to cry.

Kalim apologizes for everything he put Jamil through.

Jamil drops his usual facade in Book 6, going after Leona for making baseless assumptions about him without knowing what he has been through and all that he has had to endure.

Leona concedes that Jamil is the more intelligent of the two, and more adept with magic, but Kalim has more charisma—specifically, more money—than Jamil.

Leona explains, “Money’s more tangible than magic. It commands a lot of power and has no uncertain or ambiguous factors…and Kalim is learning how to wield that immense power.”

Leona’s words resonate with Jamil, who reflects that he has never been able to stand the fact that Kalim—and everyone—has been placed above him.

“I’d side-eye people who were lauded for showing off their talents. I griped about how I’d get nowhere, even if I tried. I’ve grown up believing that working harder than necessary is pointless. That my day in the sun would never come anyway.”

Leona makes the quiet comment that as Jamil still has potential he is not like Leona himself (“You’re not like me” change to “I’m not like you” on EN) a conclusion that Jamil manages to come to on his own, soon after.

Despite his complicated relationship with Kalim, at the conclusion of Book 6 Jamil says that he is relieved to see him.

#twstjamil #twisted wonderland #twstfacts #Jamil Viper #jamilfacts

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hpysprkl · 1 year ago

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Kiki's Art Commissions

Commisions are: OPEN

Who and What I Draw

Your Fallout OCs and fave companions. All Fallout, all the time. I've played every Fallout in existence (except that Tactics/BoS bullshit) and I love them all - yes, even 76.

Interested in non-Fallout art? Doesn't hurt to ask!

Looking for more examples of my work? Here's my tag.

Prices (USD)

More details on terms, what I will and won't draw, what I need from you, etc below the cut.

Payment is currently only available through PayPal. I'm looking into other payment options, such as Ko-Fi.

What I need from you

your faceclaim(s). If they're not someone I can easily google, I will need a few clear photos from different angles. Don't have a faceclaim for your OC yet? This is a great place to start looking

in-game screenshots are sometimes useful, so include those as well if they look anything like your OC. I will always prefer real human reference though, so please give me a faceclaim!

basic details: height, build, age, hair color/texture/style, eye color, identifying marks, etc etc etc. For companions, give me your headcanons on any details not provided in-game (or if you headcanon something differently), or I'll use my own if you don't have any

what outfit(s) they wear. If it's vanilla/Creation Club/Atomic Shop, just the in-game outfit names will usually do (i'll tell you if I need more)

any personality traits, background info, or quirks you want to share are absolutely GREAT and help me breathe a little more life into a character

if I'm drawing them with a companion, tell me a little about their dynamic

Will draw:

your Fallout OCs

their companion(s) (including ghouls)

weapons

some blood/gore/injury

sfw romantic content

Difficult areas:

curly hair - I'm trying, I'm learning, but it's harder and might take me longer

Super Mutants - haven't tried yet, but it can't be that hard

artistic nudity/pinups: I'm really out of practice, I make no guarantees

Won't draw:

anything racist/queerphobic/transphobic/bigoted/etc

minors

backgrounds. There's a reason this is a serparate, specialized job in animation and comic studios

nsfw romantic/sexual content (I don't have a problem with it, it's just way outside my wheelhouse. I'm learning.)

excessive blood/gore/injury (again, outside my wheelhouse)

creatures (same reason)

IMPORTANT STUFF

What you get

high-resolution digital art (A4/8x12" at 200dpi for busts, minimum of 12x12" at 200dpi for half body and up) suitable for printing for personal use only

If you'd like me to crop you an isolated closeup of a character for use as a profile pic, I'm happy to do so at no extra charge

my work always includes my signature watermark; you may not remove or modify it

you're not required to credit me if you share it on social media, but of course I very much appreciate it if you do, and a link back to my tumblr along with it will earn you my undying love and gratitude

What you DON'T get

the right to modify, redistribute, sell or in any way profit from the work or products derived from the work (you can share it on your socials or post it with your fanfic and that sort of thing, but you can't sell stuff or give things away with my art on it). If you are interested in licensing for prints, stickers, or any other digital or physical merchandise (even not-for-profit), please let me know so we can discuss licensing terms. The 'no redistribution' rule does include gifting. If you're interested in, for example, printing stickers with my art of your OC to hand out at comic con or something, please contact me.

copyright/intellectual property rights. It's still my original artwork. As such, I am free to modify and distribute it in any way I see fit, including for profit.

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dangraccoon · 1 year ago

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Oyuba'din - Epilogue

Summary: A familiar scene plays out...almost

Warnings: canon typical violence, Big Ouchie type feelings

Author's Note: *gonzo voice* this looks familiar, vaguely familiar No but for real, if it hadn't been for the love and support y'all have sent my way, I don't think I would've had the inspiration to finish this, let alone start a sequel! This fic will be going up on AO3 sometime in the near future, and I will be writing and posting the sequel fic Jari'eyc in a couple weeks!

Make sure you leave me a comment or reblog in the notes below, or submit an update to your taglist request here if you want to be added to the taglist for Jari'eyc! The taglist will be resetting, so make sure you let me know if you want to see more!

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The group stalked quietly through the labyrinth of hallways, narrowly avoiding other troopers.

“We’re not going to get very far without our gear,” Tech sighed.

“They started moving all your things to the hangar,” Omega told Hunter. “Your gear might be there, too.”

Hunter nodded. “This way.”

The squad ran into the hangar as Tech opened the door, searching through the rows of crates for their gear.

“Alright, boys, suit up,” Hunter ordered, finding a crate filled with his own armor. “Let’s make this quick.”

The squad dug into the cargo, pulling out various pieces of equipment.

Wrecker groaned, mumbling softly to himself.

“Tech, Echo, power up the ship,” Hunter said. “The rest of us will go after-”

“I don’t think we’ll have to go far,” Omega whispered.

Wrecker’s mouth fell open. “Is that-”

“Jaine?” Crosshair breathed. He could feel his heart shattering as Jaine entered with a whole squad, herself clad in new, darkly colored armor. She removed her helmet, crimson hair falling to her shoulders, now streaked with stark white.

Time seemed to stand still, even as the rain pounded against the hangar, punctuated by thunder and flashes of lightning.

Hunter swallowed and stood, catching Jaine’s eye.

“Stand down, Sergeant. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

A chill ran down Crosshair’s spine. Her melodic voice sounded eerily robotic now. Was this really their Jaine or a just very convincing droid?

“Jaine,” Hunter pleaded. “What are you doing? It’s us.”

“I read the report of your mission on Kaller. I also read the report from the captain of that battalion, who doubts your report. You should have killed that Jedi kid,” she said, sounding almost bored.

“Jaine, this isn’t you,” Hunter pleaded. “You’ve got to snap out of it. We’re your family!”

“I have no family,” Jaine roared, anger already receding as she winced, hand almost rising to touch her head. “You went against orders. That cannot be tolerated.”

“I did what I thought was right.”

Jaine scoffed, unimpressed. “What a shame it is that you’ve never been able to see the bigger picture. Surrender. Now.”

Hunter’s eyes darted away from Jaine to the rest of his squad, reluctantly pulling themselves into ready positions, and Omega, hunkered down behind a crate.

“Is that an order, Lieutenant?”

Jaine bristled. “It is now.”

With one last glance at his squad - his family - Hunter smirked ever so slightly.

“Guess I’m disobeying that one, too.”

Hunter could hear the crackles of electricity sparking at Jaine’s fingertips. He kept his eyes on her, waiting for her to make the move, but praying she wouldn’t.

With a sharp grunt from Jaine, a streak of lightning flew out towards Hunter, who barely dodged it.

As the troopers with her began firing on the squad, Hunter dove behind the crate as his brothers fired back.

Jaine growled, forcing her hands out in front of her, red smoke pouring from her palms, filling the space between her and her old squadmates. Pressing a button on her new helmet, she could see the heat signatures of each of them. Wrecker and Crosshair behind one set of crates, Hunter and the girl behind another. She hurled a few more bursts of lightning towards them, hitting their cover hard.

“Tech, we gotta move,” Hunter growled through the comms. “Now.”

“We’re working on it,” Tech answered, hands flying across the control panels.

“Wrecker, clear the smoke on three,” he ordered.

“You got it, boss,” Wrecker nodded, grabbing a few lids from the crates.

“Omega, stay low,” he said. “One…two-”

“Three!” Wrecker shouted, jumping up from the cover to use the lids as fans, before sending one of them flying towards the regs. Jaine barely dodged the second one as it kareened towards her.

Wrecker reached for the blaster strapped to his back, but Jaine was faster, sending a fast shot from her blaster towards him, clipping his shoulder.

He shouted in pain as he fell, his helmet flying off and landing next to him.

Omega stood up, starting to jog towards the large heap Wrecker lay in.

“Omega! Don’t!” Hunter shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her back, the shot Jaine intended for her missing by a few short inches. “She’s using him as bait.”

“But he needs help!” Omega protested.

“Tech,” he growled. “We’re out of time!”

“Almost got it,” came Tech’s reply as the thrusters came to life, catching Jaine’s eye.

“What are you waiting for?” she shouted at the reg closest to her. “Seal the bay door!”

The reg nodded, rushing to the control panel to hit the appropriate button.

Hunter watched, a deep dread forming at the pit of his stomach as the doors to their exit began to close. But then they stopped, despite the alarms still blaring.

Jaine’s head whipped around to the reg at the panel.

“Sir, someone’s overriding the controls!”

She growled. Watching the heat map of the squad.

Hunter kneeled next to Omega. “When I say ‘go’, you head for that ramp, and don’t stop, got it?” She nodded and he turned to face Crosshair. “Cross, we go for Wrecker.”

Jaine watched across the hangar. “Only one way out, Hunter. Your move.”

“Go!” Hunter shouted, popping up to lay down cover fire as Omega and Crosshair ran behind him.

Jaine came out from behind her cover, energy surging at her fingertips.

She raised her hands, vision locked on to Crosshair, Wrecker, and Hunter.

A single shot sounded; a stun round hitting Jaine’s hand, knocking her to the ground.

Omega lifted her head from the rifle, steam flowing from the barrel. As the others got up, so did Jaine, pulling her blaster from her waist as Omega began to fire off more shots until her brothers were on board, the shots from Jaine merely hitting the surface of the hull. The Marauder rose and exited the hangar as Jaine wrenched her bucket off, scowling up as the ship escaped.

Thanks for reading! - River

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w33nies · 2 years ago

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Qué Maravilla CH.6 - 'No Laughing Matter'

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Miguel O'hara x SpiderReader rating: E for Everyone bby warnings: none? lots of angst tbh summary: everyone and their momma looking for Miles. art is not mine!!!! @neonrockingvisuals !!!!

--------------- Ch.6 - No Laughing Matter----------------

Though he would never admit it, there were many things Miles Morales was afraid of growing up: snakes, lizards, ingrown toenails, identity theft, the list goes on. Within the past several hours he had been forced to confront some of the scariests worst-case scenarios he could’ve never possibly imagined. He couldn’t fathom not being able to save his father. Not only that, but have his last conversation with him be an argument. A stupid argument. Not even an ‘I love you’ or a goodbye. Miles could’ve never imagined losing not only his family but his home, in the process. He could’ve never imagined failing not only as spiderman, but as himself.

Miles was sure he had seen it all in the past several hours. That was until he found himself being kidnapped and tightly bound to a punching bag with metal chains in a dark, undisclosed location. That was until the figure dressed in all black removed his glowing mask and sneered at him with clear contempt in his voice.

“My name is Miles Morales, but you can call me the Prowler.”

Miles couldn’t see himself as anything but spiderman. He always thought that even if he was never bit then, at the worst he would just be normal. Up until now, he thought he was incapable of evil. That no matter how bad it got he would never hurt anyone. He would never resort to crime. Miles genuinely believed that he was an intrinsically good person. Foolishly, he had believed a good portion of the villainy he had fought was because the had some evil nature to them. Anyone could be good of course, but not just anyone could be bad. Right? The uncanny stare of the boy in front of him gave way to a realization that hit harder than a brick. There aren’t many things Miles would say he is currently afraid of, but just like that Miles found he had a new fear. A fear of his potential. A fear of himself

He took a deep breath in an attempt to quell his growing anxiety, “If you don’t let me go, our dad is going to die.”

“Your dad.”

Miles turned his head to look at Uncle Aaron, leaning against what seemed to be a workbench full of sophisticated tech. Nonchalantly nodding to the song via his vinyl record player. ‘Ain’t No Love In The Heart of the City’ by Bobby Bland filled up the entire room. It had been a while since Miles had heard his song. Uncle Aaron, his Uncle Aaron, used to play it all the time. It was his favorite song. It was a signature staple in his playlist whenever they would tag some graffiti in the middle of the night. He studied this foreign version of his Uncle. The slow absentminded sway of his head. The silent mouthing the words with his hands stuffed in his pocket. For a split second he easily fooled himself into thinking this was the same Uncle Aaron. The one that saved his life with his own. The only man in his life who supported his creative spark. But this Uncle Aaron was probably going to kill him or do god-knows-what to him. ‘Could this really be the same man?’ the boy found himself pondering. ‘We can all be good, right?’

He turned to look back at his doppelganger “What are you gonna do to me?”

“Only the best I can,” his alternate said mockingly.

“Please,” Miles tried his best to fight the fearful tremor in his voice, “You have to let me go.”

“And why would I do that?” Prowler raised his fist to make a show of activating his mechanical, clawed glove. Its menacingly purple glow being one of the few sources of light in the unsettling room. He then placed his fist so close to Miles’ face that he was uncomfortably tugging at the skin on his cheek

In response to this threatening display, Miles' discreetly presses a single finger against the chain that confines him. If he could break out of a futuristic jail cell, he was more than willing to try his luck with these chains. He turned his head to avoid the Prowler’s eerie stare and found himself once again looking at Uncle Aaron, who was now fiddling with his dying lighter in an attempt to light the cigarette already in his mouth.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you boy.”

“Don’t call me boy,” Miles' shaky breath betrays the stoic facade he’s trying to push.“I’m not your boy,” he asserted more securely this time. While he’s here he studies his counterpart’s face. He’s pretty sure they’re the same age, but something about him is different though. This version of him looks more rigid and hardened. Almost broken. There was a certain sadness to him. Not that he himself looked sad, but more so in the fact that he could tell he had it rough. This was a kid who never got to be a kid. Someone who had to grow up fast. ‘Is this how people see me?’ He asked himself, ‘My parents, Gwen, Peter… Did they? Do they ever see me this way? Could they?”

The sudden knee to Miles stomach causes him to lurch forward, well as much as his confines allowed him too. He’s left momentarily gasping for air as the Prowler resumes his previous stance and once again sneers in Miles’ face “Watch. Your. Mouth.”

He continued to watch Uncle Aaron through his peripheral vision. His final words replay in his mind “Keep going,” He had said with his hand firmly clasped in his as he took last shallow breaths in a dark, ruined alleyway “You’re on your way Miles. Just keep going.”

For the first time in a while, since he had first encountered the spot, Miles began to laugh. He laughed to himself almost like a madman on the brink of a psychotic break.

“You think I’m joking?” The Prowler frustratedly grabbed him by the collar, “You want something funny? I can be real hilarious.”

“Sorry,” the boy giggled antagonistically, “It’s just too easy.”

Prowler cocked his head to the side, “Huh?”

“What you said earlier. When you told me to watch my mouth,” He lifted his head to face the boy in front of him, “Everybody knows the first rule of interrogation,” Miles then put on his best shit eating grin, “Don’t watch the mouth, Watch the hands.” Miles then grasps the chains with both hands and channels as much electricity as he can possibly muster.

In the next instant a blinding seismic wave erupted throughout the building then followed by complete darkness. The record player fizzles to a stop. The T.V cuts to black. The only thing Miles can make out in the dark is the prowler's ominous, glowing mask. Soon after power flickers in and out. He swears he’s imaging it, but with each momentary blackout the mask seems to teleport closer and closer and closer until suddenly he’s right in front of him clawed hand outstretched towards his neck. Before Miles can react, the boy grabs him by the collar and flings him into the industrial pipes on the other side of the room, just barely missing the Television. Miles groans painfully upon impact, but somehow in the midst of this he once again steals a glance at Uncle Aaron who is holding his side with a pained look on his face; they both notice it at the same time, the now lit cigarette in Aaron’s mouth. Aaron puffs once to check whether or not he’s seeing things then he gives Miles a look he hadn’t seen in a while. The one where his mouth sits in a pout pushed to the side of his face and where he slightly raises his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything but Miles knew better than anyone that this was his own way of showing that he was impressed.

Before he can engage further, Miles feels a chill down his spine accompanied by the familiar voice in the back of his head. ‘LOOK OUT’ it says in an urgent whisper. He whirls around and sees the Prowler once again with his talons inches away from his face.

Miles leaps to the left just in time to see the Prowler punch the area where his head was just moments ago. He slowly stands, holding a pipe he no doubt had just ripped out of the wall. He crushing it in a fist like a piece of paper then takes another jab towards his face. Miles dodges, barely, again and again and again and again so he decides to take offense. He attempts to land a hit on him but he misses,barely, again and again and again. Even trying to handicap him with his webs proves difficult. After what feels like ages, both boys momentarily back away from each other, clearly out of breath. ‘I can’t keep going on like this,’ Miles said to himself, ‘Something’s gotta give.’

Miles regains his composure then shoots a web into the ceiling, using the momentum to launch him in the air above his clone. However before he lands, he activates his invisibility. Leaving Prowler stunned as he looks around wildly for the boy he just had his eye on. Punch after punch, and kick after kick coming in from all directions. He attempts to move from the onslaught but finds his feet don’t move. When he looks down he finds his feet webbed stuck to the floor.

Annoyed, he reaches into his jacket and holds onto the new gadget he an Uncle Aaron had just developed this past week. He didn’t need a bullseye, he just had to mark him.

As he heard the whizzing of his opponent flying through the air, he discreetly pulled the pin on his makeshift grenade then threw two paint bombs in the direction of the incoming assault. A small amount of neon green paint stains the silhouette of Miles' ankle. Not wasting any time, the Prowler swiftly grabs his leg and swings him over his head and slamming him into the ground. The harsh impact has Mile’s figure phasing in and out of visibility. Prowler grabs his chest, lifts him about a foot off the ground, and then slams him again into the floor. The ringing in Mile’s ear is constant. Prowler picks him up again slowly by the throat.

He grins to himself, “Too easy.”

“Stop messing around man, security switches at 6:00.” Aaron takes a pause to take a puff of his cigarette. “Wrap it up, then haul your ass to the lab. ”

Prowler brings up his claw fully about to clobber him, Miles is racking his brain for ideas.

“Wait.” Miles struggles to talk, “ You ever hear of the shoulder touch?”

“Huh?” Prowler is thrown off. Then he chuckles softly, “Shoulder touch? Man, I might've knocked you too hard.”

Undeterred, Miles puts his hand on his shoulder and does his best to give a smolder given the position he’s in. Let out a strained, “Hey.” and then zaps the Prowler.

A tiny small shock though is all he can muster given the current state he’s in. Luckily, it’s enough to immobilize Prowler's equipment. The Prowler smacks on his glove frustratedly. Sparks flying with each subsequent hit he directs towards it. Wasting no time, Miles lays an uppercut and a left hook to his jaw, finishing a jab straight to his abdomen. Prowler stumbles backward. Miles uses this moment to non threateningly raise his palms in the air, “I don’t want to fight you man,” he struggles to project his voice while gasping for air, “ I just want to go home.”

Prowler finally regains control of his glove. He takes a fighting stance, but then suddenly begins to lower his guard. “You call yourself Spider boy right?”

“Spiderman.”

“Cool, listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Really.” Miles responds unamused, “You only just tried to kill me back there.”

“People change,” The prowler retracted his mask showing a smug grin, “More importantly, I think we can help eachother out here.”

“How?”

“You say you’re from another dimension right? Tell me how you got here.”

“It’s a long story. There was this ‘go home’ machine. It was supposed to send me home but it sent me here by mistake.”

“The ‘Go Home’ machine…” Prowler shoots Uncle Aaron an amused glance before proceeding, “That sounds….stupid. Y’all don't have a collider?”

“Well I did have one but I wasn’t in my dimension I was- Wait…. Wait,wait,wait, wait, wait,” Miles paused, “You know about colliders?”

“Yep. There's one right here, in Brooklyn.”

“Where is it? Please. I need it to get home.”

“Do you one better. I’ll take you there myself.” He examined his mechanical hand as if he was picking imaginary dirt from its claw , " Of course, you’ll have to do something for me...”

“….What is it?”“

“Your little zappy-hands shit you did a second ago…,” he says vaguely gesturing to his person, “...What else can it do?”

Miles relaxes a little and starts counting off its capabilities on his fingers “Um, well, break chains? But you already saw that. I can charge my phone, jump start a car. Oh I broke this futuristic, holographic force field several hours ago. It’s a long story actually-”

“-Cool.” The prowler cuts him off, “That'll work.”

“What’ll work? What are you saying? What am I doing?”

Prowler looks at Uncle Aaron, who gives him an approving nod. Then the Prowler makes his way over to the work bench and starts tinkering with his damaged gear, “I got a hit on a guy. He's a freelance scientist working for Alchemex in charge of some prototype for an inter-dimensional collider, name’s Jonathon Ohnn. ”

Miles feels his stomach drop, “A hit? You're a hitman?”

“I’d say I’m more of a… persistent negotiator," he spoke nonchalantly, “I just get results by any means necessary.”

“Jonathon….’ Miles thinks hard to himself. The name sounded familiar, he just wasn’t sure why. “You’re gonna kill him? Why?”

Prowler rolled his eyes with a groan, “Ay dios mío. It 's my job cabrón. But, If you can get me what I need I won’t have to.” He reequips his claw and walks towards Miles, slowly circling him like a vulture, “My…let’s just say boss, wants his research and Ohnn is a bit stubborn. Won't give up the rights to the collider. Won’t even sell it. Couple of nasty back and forths later and now he’s locked himself in his lab with some projected barrier. Nobody can get in or out…So, our deal is simple,” He directs a clawed finger to Miles" “You break the barrier, you get the collider,” puts his palm to his chest with a slight bow, “I get the guy.” He extends his hands for Miles to shake, “Do we have a deal?”

Miles looks at the outstretched hand, then to uncle Aaron, then to the boy in front of him again. “I’m not gonna help you kill an innocent person.” Just then Miles violently glitches. This one leaves him reeling on the floor, holding his sides in pain.

“Never said I was gonna kill him, but from the looks of it, cabrón,” he took a step forward and leaned down to meet his face.“You don’t really have a choice, do you? You don’t know where the lab is pendejo and from the looks of it,” he leans in even closer to whisper in his ear “you don’t have much time.”

Miles chews his lip while lost in thought, but eventually sighs, “You torture or kill or hurt this guy in any way, I’m out. Okay?”

Prowler once again puts his hand out for him to shake, “You have my word spider boy.”

“Spiderman.” Miles reluctantly shakes his hand , “It’s spiderman.”

“Whatever man.” Prowler's mask goes up “Just try to keep up.” Then he takes off. Miles looks at Uncle Aaron. Aaron gives him a nod which he returns, then Miles goes after him.

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #astv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miles morales #prowler miles #miles morales prowler

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