#caught in a web (Possibly temporary name)

[moontaledno]

That moment when you're so barely active you had the time to create a whole new story since the last post 😨

I have yet to add quite a few more things to really make the story more solid, but at least I have the base idea! A housefly hired as a butler in a mansion full of mask-wearing insects (for most of them, there also are arachnids, uh oh)! Surely nothing will go wrong.

I know that my style isn't always the most. Horror-looking one, but I still wanted to try and do some kind of horror story with this one! Guess we'll see how it goes if I don't end up giving up on this story,,

[echantedtoon]

Story scene request:

I loved your story demon bride. Especially the Hantengu clones. Would you consider a small bonus scene. When Zohakuten was ordered back to school and Rui sees him surrounded by the demon girls (because he's a big bad kizuki) and Zohakuten positively flustered. horrified...trying to get away?

Here you go! Hope it's ok. @hantengudelulu

The Infinity Castle was always a place that rarely any humans would be graced to see even once in their short lifetimes. Oh how he reveled in that fact and the fact that HE had such high privileges even amongst other demons. And why shouldn't he be proud? He had everything going good in his life right now.

He bested any challenger, earning him the title of Upper Moon One. Earning him a higher rank. He was the one who could order all other lower moons. He obtained a powerful position all due to skill. Every lower person bowed to his strength. He had a high position. Respect. Power. Money. Any luxury at a snap of his fingers. What more could he ask for? 

...Well maybe a break would be nice. 

Perhaps his (stubbornness and ego-) pride maybe(definitely-) clouded his judgement in one too many situations. But he was perfectly justified in his actions! ... Unfortunately the higher ups, specifically Kokushibo, had deemed him too immature for the situation and thus temporary stripped him from his rank in every way except in name until he proved himself actually worthy of it or until Kokushibo officially removed him from the Kizuki as a whole. So far he was lucky. He'd was only on final strike instead of completely being kicked, so until then he had to bite his tongue and keep his head lowered until he was in the clear...

Or until he graduated from this damned school!

Many looks were given to the Upper Moon as he stomped down the path towards a large menagerie of buildings together circling and constantly rotating. The school all demon children attended in this hellscape. However it wasn't the fact that a Kizuki Lord was present. It was the fact that he was a Kizuki Lord with a child walking behind him like a duckling. It was fucking embarrassing!! He didn't want to take him with him but he had his hands tied with being ordered by Akaza. Considering how the strong Upper Moon thrashed Sekido around like a ragdoll, it had been better to just agree to escort the younger demon and avoid causing trouble that might bring him more trouble, especially if Kokushibo caught wind of him 'disrespecting the ranks' again. Many other parents and other children looked on in silent surprise or awe at the sight of him leading a child to school. He has to get out of here as soon as possible. Disappear into the background as soon as he could. 

"You're grounding your teeth again."

In an instant he stopped and whipped around to face the younger demon with a look of barely held back annoyance. 

"Silence you little worm! You're only in my presence because it was ordered. Otherwise I wouldn't be bothered to be seen with a weakling such as yourself."

Unsurprisingly the younger, paler demon wasn't affected in the slightest by his demeanor. As much as he didn't want to be bothered by him, he could admit that the younger demon was wise beyond his years. Very level headed, and not bothersome most of the time as he remained quiet unless spoken to or when he decided to. If he hadn't chosen to purposely go against him then he might've said that he wouldn't mind if he was around but he only chose to point out (his flaws-) the obvious.

"You shouldn't talk like that when you know who my father is. It's a miracle you're even alive let alone considered a Kizuki at all," he spoke without even looking up at the webs he fiddled, "It's a wonder how you got in at all."

Something in his patience snapped as he fully turned to him growling out a threat."How dare you spew filth from your mouth you illegitimate bastard child!? You are only here because one of the Upper Ranks lets you be! Don't forget that can easily change! You're rank is that of a mere pet anyone can replace so do not forget your place below me as you stand here before me!"

"Says the one who was nearly stripped of their rank only a year into having it. If a Kizuki is like you then you do not earn an ounce of my respect let alone attention. You seem to forget you too are so very easily replaceable, Upper Moon Four..If you can even by called that now."

"How DARE you insignificant-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll tell Kokushibo you disgraced yourself by fighting a child in front of a school." A cynical smile on a pale face was given to him. "Between us I think we both know who he'd believe."

His body completely froze  up from his words. From his smile. From the threat behind those eyes- No. No that wasn't a threat. That was a promise the child was making. Daring him to continue. To call his bluff. To push him. To give him a reason to move his check mate piece on the chess board and completely anilate him. The surrounding parents and children closest to them stared at the sight of the two of them.. before he made the choice to suck in a deep breath, clench his fists hard enough to draw blood droplets from his palms, and then stomping away ignoring the way he smiled triumphantly. 

Bastard child!! Not even a real heir to the Kizuki! An illigitimate child a Kizuki just took pity on to treat like his own!! It made his blood boil and an urge to show him truly how much he was wrong- To show him his place but there was nothing he could do about i- A rather loud high pitched giggle interrupted his thoughts completely. Freezing him in his place and making him slowly, stiffly turn around to face the source of those giggles. 

A group of what was around six or seven demon girls stood there staring at his form. The amusement on their faces clear now that they noticed he had their attention. A smaller chorus of amused giggles causing his body to bristle unexpectedly. 

"Oh, my," one cooed. Possibly the most beautiful one out of the bunch with long silver hair and pretty purple eyes popping out like lilacs as she giggled at him. "Isn't it precious? A lord as young as yourself being concerned about what looks like your baby brother.~"

Something about her tone made his stomach feel strange as he leaned back. It was almost... flirtatious. He quickly banished that thought from his mind.

"Silence, Woman! You dare speak to a Kizuki like that!?"

"Ooooh,~" a chorus came out from the girls which only further made him bristle. And he suddenly realized something-

He was surrounded.

Surrounded by eight, very pretty and very flirtatious looking women who seemed to be fawning over him like some adorable piece of artwork.

"Look at him.~ Isn't he just precious?~" 

"Mm. A handsome one just like his older brothers.~ I heard his father is quite the looker too.~"

"I just want to hold him for a little bit.~"

"Look at those handsome little horns.~ And his ears are so cute like a little elf.~"

He could feel his ears pin to his head. "S-Silence you shameless succubi!! Show respect towards your superior!!" He let out a less than dignified sound of surprise as a hand pinched his ear followed by a coo. Quickly he twisted and hissed out. "Don't you dare touch me!!" A shiver ran through him as another lightly touched his arm curiously."C-CEASE YOUR ATTACK AT ONCE!!"

It was only when the second prettiest one grabbed him by the cheeks and smooshed them together with a loud coo did he feel his face burn up in embarrassment and his ear flatten against his head as she admired his face.

"This an attack? Hehehehe. You silly boy. If this was an attack then you don't know girls too much do you?~ Such an adorable man.~" He didn't trust those candy pink eyes full of mischief and amusement. "I doubt you've even kissed a girl have you?"

"Probably not. Give him a kiss on the cheek, Sakura. That might show him we aren't so mean.~"

Golden pupils shrank drastically-

And then the sounds of rapid thudding across the floor of a shifting platform caught the attention of many as a demon made a break for a school floating away from a shifting staircase spiraling around. Little hands in a game of shaping strings looked up along with multiple other young eyes as a blur fell down from the edge of the platform jumping from one staircase to another and barely grabbing onto the rail in time. And he stared as the form of the mighty supposed Upper Moon Four pulled himself up from over the edge panting and looking flushed as if he had just escaped from a very angry Akaza. Black claws digging into the wood as he painted. Their eyes met in confusion before he narrowed gold irises.

"Not. A. Single. Word." 

[skxllz]

(shhhhh I'm testing out a new fandom. this is just experimental. PS- let me know what I can do to better improve my writing for him.)

john shelby x fem! american! reader: to touch you, is to feel gold amongst my finger tips

+

“ shh- keep yer’ fuckin’ mouth shut, would’ya? ”

you giggled in a hushed manner while stumbling down the cobblestone path to the shelby manner. it was late- around one in the morning when you two set out of the car and down the road to the house, freshly smelling of alcohol and john's cigars from celebrating all night. it was your birthday, just having turned twenty three. given it was six months down the line that you and the shelby man had been eloped in an arrangement of sorts... john figured it'd be a good idea to wed you into his ideal web of fun. drinking, dancing the night away, possibly snorting some forbidden snow and better yet- causing a wee bit of trouble.

see, you were only eight months into pearling around birmingham. when you first arrived, you were seen as nothing more than an innocent, bobolyne (1) of a gal. wearing long, flowy skirts and cute tops sewn with what seemed to be faux pearls and jewels; smiling so kindly to whoever passed by you; having the jolliest of pep in your step over the smallest things. It was sickening to a lot of the folks, given their little quarry of a town was so used to being dreary and filled with... well, people who weren't like you.

that seemed to be a temporary stain on your name for a month – before polly gray, the shelby brothers’ aunt, caught site of you at the cheltenham races speaking brashly to an older man who just wouldn't keep his mits off of you. you backhanded him and kneed him in a very particular area, earning not only interest from the woman, but the utmost respect for not letting yourself to be whored out.

she unintentionally met your father, who spoke rather highly of you. the two mingled, she found out you were in need of a suitor, and the rest is history up until this point.

because of being wedged into the shelby family and in the protection of them, the town's people no longer looked at you funny. If they did, john would have his way them – as would his brother, arthur, since he took a liking to you.

“ m’not doing anything! ” you lightly hissed, trying to keep yourself upright in the green wedges you wore. there was barely any height given to you, yet the heal was just not agreeing with your drunken state, leaving you to almost fall more than once.

john made a face of agitation, clicking his tongue. “ y/n; you're ready to fall on your bloody face, for fuck's sake. ” he yet again tried to take ahold of your wobbly body, going in for your arm which had stretched out so you could balance yourself, but you once again shooed him away. even though it's been a short amount of time, john's come to realize you were not like any woman he's met; you were a stubborn broad. he admired that, though. surprisingly..

“ you know what? ” john muttered to himself, before he spat the toothpick he had between his lips to the ground- only to bend at the knees to scoop you into his arms. the sudden weight of his bicep under the backs of your knees ripped a gasp from you, making you react on instinct to wrap your arms around his neck.

“ john! ” you looked at him with half lidded, sleepy eyes and whined. “ put me down! I can walk on my own. ”

he paid no attention to you, choosing to look ahead with his lips drawn together in a flat line. he scoffed once he heard what you said, trying not to roll his eyes. “ right- ‘cause you could certainly make it up the walk way without runnin’ into the wall and bustin’ yer’ arse. I believe you, sweetheart. ”

you were too out of it to notice his attitude, but you did pick up on the slight sarcasm. “ shut up... ” you huffed, glaring at him; arm lifting to lazily smack him. he immediately looked down at you after that. “ you're just mea- ”

“ say I'm mean, love, and I'll show ya’ how actually mean a shelby can be. ” john interrupted before you could even finish your thought. “ if anythin’, I believe I've treated you quite fairly. had it been anyone else, you'd be kickin’ an’ screamin’ right now. ”

turning his attention forwards again, he took your silence as a good thing - for now, anyway. “ now – be a good girl and hush yer’ mouth, yeah? don't need t’be wakin’ the whole house with yer’ loud gob. ”

It wasn't until john heard a rather small sniffle, barely audible, moments later did he stop in his tracks. he looked down, only to see you looking away from him with teary eyes and a quivering lip. you were not an emotional person, but getting drunk always toyed with your brain to where you'd get easily offended. so in a way, you were an emotional drunk. It could be quite annoying on your end, because even though you got upset over little things, you didnt want to - which only made you more upset. and being more upset, made you even more upset. the cycle just kept going which would eventually lead you to balling your eyes out.

fortunately for john, he wasn't oblivious to this act within a drunken state. when ada was younger and first started her fair share of booze, she'd get emotional as well, leaving her brothers to coddle her in someway because any chap that even tried to sweep her away, arthur and thomas would see to it.

with a sigh, john pondered in his head on how to approach this situation with ease without accidentally hurting you more. he could have quite the temper at times - as well as say things a bit harsher than meaning to, and it could break the dam that was barely holding your tears upright. that is something he didn't need nor want to happen. everyone in the house would awake from the fuss, and he'd be left to feeling like an asshole for making his future bride, cry.

“ sweetheart... ” carefully, he set you down - but immediately you stumbled from not being fast enough to catch the door. due to this, john quickly fastened an arm around her waist as he stood - thankfully, it cracked a small smile from him. “ careful. don't need you breakin’ somethin’. ”

you had looked at him, chin downcasted just a bit, making your eyes seem larger and doe-eyed. lip stuck in a jutted pout with the tiniest line of mascara running down your cheek, you appeared to look like a little kid planning on getting payback; just, with the way you looked, so devilish yet cute.

it pulled on John's heart strings.

“ don't look at me like that... ” he mumbled, lifting his free hand to caress your cheek into a gentle cradle of his palm. “ ya’ know I fuckin’ hate it when you give me those eyes. I can't resist ‘em. ”

(I'm stopping here. this was only an experimental piece. I did plan on finishing it, but for now I'd just like opinions on this.)

[billionviewsbllogpost]

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[sophie-jen]

water lilies and tadpoles

read on ao3

James rolled onto his back. He looked up at the sun, shining joyfully in the cloudless sky, then immediately groaned, and rolled back onto his stomach.

"You look like a beached whale, honey."

James groaned again. "S'hot," he mumbled. 

"Why don't you go down to the lake and take a swim?"

James did not dignify this question with a response. His mother had been trying to kick him out all morning. She clearly didn’t want him in her way as she pranced around in her sunhat, gardening tools in hand. James was too miserable to care. He just groaned louder and rolled over again. But this was the wrong move, he realized belatedly, as he felt the crunch of his mother's favorite lilies being crushed under his weight. 

Five minutes later and a shovel shaped dent in his skull found James making his way toward the stupid lake. As he pushed his way valiantly through swarms of mosquitoes, he considered the very real possibility that he would drown in his own sweat before he ever reached water. 

The suffocating heat made everything hazy. Overhead, branches swayed. Leaves rustled. Underfoot, twigs crunched. Moss whispered. Streams of light danced around him. Birds croaked. Frogs chirped. A mushroom tipped its cap to him. 

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, it occurred to James that he might be lost. Just as the beginnings of panic started brewing in his stomach, his foot caught in a root and he went toppling down a hill. He rolled to a stop next to a small glittering lake, and groaned. This was definitely not the lake his mother had been referring to. He hadn’t known there even was another lake in this area. It really was quite small, resembling more of an oversized pond.

There was something emphatically off about the happy twinkle of the water and the ethereal glow that bathed everything in a golden light. He also couldn’t help but notice that the water lilies were eyeing him suspiciously. To their left, a large, judgmental looking trout poked its face out of the water, took a good look at him, and with a disappointed shake of its head, went back down to report what it had seen. And sat on an outcrop not three feet away, looking straight at him while her fingers combed through her long tendrils of red hair, was a mermaid. This was a little much for poor James to take, and mercifully, after one last groan for good measure, consciousness fled and everything faded to black. 

                                                      *

James gasped awake. He lay in the dark for a few seconds, contemplating the strange dream he had been having, before sitting up. As he did, something cold and slimy slid off his eyes and down his face, taking his glasses with it. He felt around for the glasses, slid them back onto his nose, looked at the lily pad that had dropped into his lap, and felt his stomach drop with it. 

"I thought it might help cool you off."

He looked over at the girl who sat not far away. She was looking at him with an expression of mingled apprehension and curiosity. And sure enough, when James looked down, he saw curled under her a long gray tail, scales shimmering in the sunlight. He had to make a considerable effort not to faint again. 

"I’ve found lily pads are really refreshing. I was afraid you had heat exhaustion or something,” the girl said. 

“Oh. Thank you.” James didn’t know how to explain to her that it most likely wasn’t the heat exhaustion that had caused him to swoon. 

“I'm Lily, by the way."

James considered her for a moment. Considered at what point between rolling onto his mother’s lilies and meeting a mermaid named Lily he had lost his mind. Considered the lily pad laying limply in his lap. Made a decision. 

"I'm James."

                                                      *

“So, uh…” James kept his eyes on the small blue fish eating out of the mermaid’s hand. He was trying not to stare at her webbed fingers. “You live here? In the lake?”

“No, I actually prefer to perch on tree branches.” She gave James such a deadpan look as she spoke that he was inclined to believe her. At this point, he was inclined to believe just about anything. 

“Yes, of course I live in the lake,” she continued after a moment. She turned back to the fish, which was stretching as far as it could out of the water, vying for her attention. 

“Ah. Right.” James mulled this over for a moment. “But where do you-” he paused, trying to think of the best way to ask the question. “Well, where do you, you know, live?” Well said. “I mean, have you got a bed at the bottom of the lake or something?”

“Yep. I even splurged on a water mattress recently.”

To James’ surprise, a snort of amusement escaped him. Lily smiled as she stroked the fish, which flapped its tiny fins happily. 

“Honestly, I mostly sleep on land. I like looking at the stars.” She gave the fish a final pat, before leaning back onto her arms, her tail stretched out in front of her, and tilting her face towards the sun. “I couldn’t really do that much back home.”

“Back home?” 

“I live in the ocean.”

“What are you doing here?” 

“I got caught in a storm and washed up in a river somewhere, so I swam up here.” She leaned over and lifted a clump of moss off the end of her tail, where a large translucent fin lay. The left portion of the fin was in tatters, and an angry looking rip spanned almost the entirety of it. "I can't swim properly with my tail in that state." 

"So, what, you're just stuck here?" 

"Until it heals and I can try finding my way home. But I honestly don't mind. I grew up surrounded by angelfish and dolphins, so lake trout and tadpoles have been a nice change of pace.“ 

Despite her lighthearted tone, she didn’t look particularly thrilled as she said it. James immediately felt compelled to do something, though what that something was, or why he even felt compelled to do it, were beyond him. Instead, his mouth moved of its own accord. "Oh, so you're usually surrounded by a much more so-fish-ticated crowd, then," he said, placing emphasis on the “fish”. He regretted it immediately.

“Did you just-” She looked at him incredulously, but James was thrilled to hear the laughter in her voice. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Yeah, my bad, won’t happen again.”

“Unbelievable,” she said through a giggle. 

Not wanting to push his luck, he stayed quiet, and they sat in silence together. The fish, realizing it wouldn’t be getting anything more from Lily, swam up to James and gave a hopeful wiggle. He stroked it distractedly as the mermaid next to him sighed and readjusted the moss covering her fin. James only hoped she couldn't hear the frantic whirring of cogs as he tried to make sense of the pretty redhead and her tail, quietly soaking up the sun beside him. 

                                                      *

"Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop looking at my tail."

"It looked at me first."

"It's impolite to stare."

"Social norms don't apply when your cousin is a guppy."

A lily pad thwacked James across the face.

                                                      *

The sun was beating down mercilessly. James sat at the edge of the water with his feet dipped in up to his ankles. He watched as Lily resurfaced, yet another trinket in her hands, and swam closer to add it to the row of eclectic objects she had set out on the sand. She called them her treasures, although they looked more like what a demented three-year-old might drag home from the playground. 

While she fiddled with what looked like a vaguely heart-shaped ball of algae, he examined one of the rocks. She had said it reminded her of the hammerhead shark that would dig up her garden in search of crabs. It was oblong and one of the ends was slightly flat. To James, the resemblances ended there, but Lily had been thrilled at the discovery, so he had smiled and praised how hammerheaded the rock looked. 

He set the rock back down and checked to see what Lily was doing. She was still poking at the green blob. Her hair looked darker now that it was wet, pooling like blood in her collarbones and trickling down her back in rivulets. He looked away as soon as she turned toward him, and stared intently at a chipped snail shell. 

“I know, it’s not very impressive.”

“What? No...” 

She raised her eyebrows in skeptical amusement. “I wish you could see the collection I have at home. I’ve got this gorgeous pocket watch I found with all these flowers carved on the back. It doesn’t tell the time anymore though.”

“Where’d you find it?” asked James. He slid into the water and made his way towards a water lily he had spotted. 

Lily hadn’t seemed to notice, focused on smoothing out the wrinkles of the snake skin she had laid out. “We collect them from shipwrecks,” she explained.

“That’s morbid.” He snapped the flower off the stem and waded back over to Lily and her treasures. 

“Is it? I remember when I was little, my sister and I used to go looking for sunken ships and scare the octopuses living in them.”

“Here, add this to your collection.” Lily turned toward him, and he handed her the water lily he had picked. 

“I can’t add that. It’ll start wilting soon.” She took the flower from him, her fingers brushing his as she delicately held the white petals. He dipped his fingers in the water to quell the tingles. 

“Oh. I just thought it was pretty.”

She studied the flower for a moment, before placing it in her hair and securing the stem behind her ear. He watched as she fussed with it, trying to get it wedged properly. “There. That way we can enjoy it while it lasts.”

“I can get you another when it turns brown,” James offered. 

“No, I like this one,” she said. “I don’t want to replace it. Some things are meant to be temporary anyway.”

                                                      *

"GAAAHHhhbrrggllslg..."

"Pipe down, you'll scare the fish."

James came back to the surface, spluttering and coughing. “This clearly isn’t working,” he wheezed. 

“Really? I thought we were making great progress.” 

“Funny, ‘cause I thought that’s the third time you’ve nearly drowned me.” James rubbed his eyes a final time and opened them. Lily floated next to him, her hair like a pool of blood around her. He pulled a piece of it out of his mouth. 

She rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair, picking out a snail that had gotten tangled in the strands. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Well excuse me for having a sense of self-preservation.”

“You’re acting like I’m trying to kill you!”

“Lily, I don’t have gills! You can’t just push me underwater without warning!”

She looked surprised at his outburst, her green eyes were wide with worry, and James immediately felt bad. 

“Listen, it’s fine. I just got freaked out for a moment,” he backpedaled. 

Lily wasn’t listening. “Maybe we should stop.” 

“No, really, it’s fine! I’ll just make sure to plug my nose next time!” 

But she was already swimming away, and with a flick of her tail, she had disappeared to a place where he couldn’t reach her. 

                                                      *

The bite was oozing. Oozing what, he didn’t know. Didn’t really want to know. He had never thought he would be having to deal with fish bites. Hadn’t realized such small fish even had teeth. Evil little bastards. Always sweet and cuddly when Lily was around. But this was apparently a summer of firsts. 

He poked at the angry looking marks, and hissed. Lily would know how to take care of this. Fix it. He had no idea where she was. She hadn’t yet resurfaced. 

Not knowing what to do, he climbed onto the outcrop where he had seen her for the first time, and stretched out. Warmth enveloped him on all sides, immediately making him drowsy. As he drifted off, he thought about how unbothered he was. Everything was fine. He let himself be pulled under, into the depths of sleep, not worried in the slightest. She would turn up. She always did. 

                                                      *

He’s sinking deeper into dark blue depths. His legs keep up a frantic pace as he kicks, trying to propel himself forward. All he can see is her: her long, slender fingers, her wrists, her collarbones, glowing in the murky water as she hovers, ethereal. All he wants is to go to her, but with a laugh she turns and swims further down, engulfed by the darkness. 

He can just make out her tail undulating as she moves inexorably on, never slowing down. As he follows her, going ever lower, several jellyfish zoom by, their tentacles tangling together to form a billowing cloud of exhaust. Somewhere to the side, a school of clownfish float in a large reef together, studying. A preoccupied looking manatee comes out of a dense wall of seaweed and almost bumps into James, muttering an apology as it hurries away. 

James is undeterred, his focus only on the mermaid in front of him. She turns to face him, curls one finger in a beckoning motion, and her smile is a hook that snags him, reeling him in, pulling him closer to her. Her lips are moving. He can tell she’s saying something, something important, but he can’t understand her. The water is filling his ears, muting everything, and he strains to hear her, to make out something, anything. Panic rises in his throat as her face grows troubled, panic so thick it’s suffocating. He can’t breathe, and she’s floating further into the murky shadows, and he hates the greedy gloom taking her away from him with every fiber of his being. As she grows ever more distant, his panic grows, and he’s never felt so lost, so helpless. He has to reach her, to stop her, and she’s screaming, screaming his name, over and over and-

                                                      *

“James!” He opened his eyes, gasping for air. After several steadying breaths, the darkness began receding. He blinked while the world came back into focus. The panic he had felt so acutely was already fading, dripping through his fingers, leaking out of his ears. It was replaced by the feeling of solid rock under his back, the sun wrapping him in warmth, and Lily’s hands cupping his cheeks. Her face was right over his, her hair forming a curtain around them. 

“Here.” He felt his glasses being placed gingerly over his eyes. “You alright?” 

Lily’s voice was laced with concern, her eyebrows knitted so close together they were almost touching. Her face was so close to his that he could see every individual hair in her eyebrows. He focused on one hair that lay slightly askew, pointing towards a freckle on her eyelid, as he finished catching his breath. 

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just had a weird dream.”

“Oh. Sure. I have those all the time.”

“Really?”

“Oh, definitely. The other day, I dreamed that I had climbed up a tree, and I couldn’t get down. And you were in the water, and I kept calling you, and asking you to help. But you insisted that you couldn’t, because you had to practice your underwater somersaults. And I was so angry that I started picking crabs off the tree and pelting them at you. But you kept catching them in your mouth and eating them. And you were laughing the whole time. And then you said, ‘Look, Tulip!’ and did a backwards somersault with so much force that you created a huge wave that knocked me off the tree. And then I woke up.”

“Sorry about that.” James was trying very hard to keep a straight face. 

“I can’t believe you called me ‘Tulip’,” Lily said with a frown.  

She looked so genuinely offended that James immediately felt compelled to comfort her. “Like I would ever forget your name!” 

“What was your dream?” she said quickly. 

“Oh, I was just drowning.”

“Well that’s not bad. Why do you get to have normal dreams?”

“Probably because I know how to do backward somersaults.”

                                                      *

James stared at the water intently, looking for any disturbances in the smooth surface. In his hand, he held a freshwater mussel the size of a large baseball. Lily had dug it up from the bed of the lake for the game she had devised. She had informed him that the mussels' name was Petunia, mentioning something about the mussel reminding her of someone. 

He tightened his hold on Petunia, causing her to give an indignant shake in response. James had discovered that a firm grip was necessary when handling the mussel. She had a tendency to clamp down on his fingers when he wasn’t paying enough attention, and getting her to let go required threats of feeding her to the snapping turtle that lived nearby. 

A sudden ripple drew James’ attention to a spot on his left. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the flash of a tail flicking above the water. As he scanned the green surface, he spotted a smudge of red. Raising Petunia above his head, his eyes following the billowing of crimson under the water, he took a steadying breath, and aimed. He exhaled. Petunia went flying. 

“Fucking ow!” 

The cry told him he had hit his mark. The proud victor had only a moment to celebrate his success before a wave of water was flung in his direction, drenching him entirely. 

“Bit of a sore loser, aren’t you?” James smiled as the top of Lily’s head surfaced. Her eyes narrowed and the green flashed somewhat dangerously, but he took no heed. He was on a roll. “Seems I’ve o-fish-ially won!” 

His laugh was followed closely by a scream as Lily pulled him into the water, and he felt his nose being pinched shut as he went under, smothered by a wave of red tendrils. 

                                                      *

"You know I can't stay here." 

"Can't you? What's so great about the ocean, anyway? So it’s got dolphins. Did you know dolphins are actually vicious? I read that they kill porpoises just for fun."

“James-”

“And they’ve been known to attack people.”

“Are you honestly trying to slander dolphins?”

“I’m just saying, it’s a cruel world out there. But it’s safe here. I can guarantee you’ll never be attacked by a toad.”

“The other day, I woke up with a tadpole up my nose."

“Small price to pay.”

“Small price to pay for not being viciously attacked by a dolphin? Do you hear yourself?”

“I just don’t get why you have to leave right now. How could it possibly be safe? Your tail isn’t even fully healed yet!”

“It will be soon.”

Quiet settled over the little lake again. She broke the silence first. 

"Mermaids can live for up to 300 years."

"My dad is turning sixty next month."

“I want to go home, James. You can go home any time you want. You can be sure that you’ll be able to celebrate your dad's birthday with him. What about me? All I've got here are the tadpoles.”

"You've got me."

"What?"

"You've got me, haven't you? Or do I not count?"

"Of course you count, you idiot. You count so much, you have no idea." 

James' heart must have swollen so big it cut off the oxygen going to his brain because all he could come up with was, "I'm actually terrible at maths." 

She sighed. “I will miss you. But I can’t stay here forever, hoping you’ll visit me occasionally.”

“That’s not-”

“It is.”

                                                      *

The heat had somehow worsened. The pair floated in the cool lake water together, incapable of anything requiring any more energy. He could sense her presence, sensed it constantly, incessantly, tugging on his consciousness whenever he was around her. 

They floated in silence, the only sound coming from two particularly loud swallows. The birds were having it out over a spider they each felt entitled to. The angry chirping hadn’t ceased for at least the last ten minutes. 

James felt a ripple and saw Lily shift over and look up at the birds. She rolled her eyes and smiled at him. He felt the sudden urge to bottle up her smile and keep it stashed away, to take out and enjoy on special occasions. Instead, he dunked his head in the water and pretended with all his might that his heart wasn’t being constricted so tight it would shrink to the size of a marble and roll out of his mouth when he was sleeping. 

                                                      *

And then she was gone. Just like that, the lake was empty. James sat on the outcrop, and watched as a wilting water lily floated by serenely. A small blue fish poked its head out of the water. The fish looked around and then stared at James for a few moments, as though wanting to ask something, before diving back under with a small splash.

Here’s a painting that I think looks just like Lily

[prorevenge]

Ridiculed, accused of lying and incompetence, I shoved burning facts down their throats and made a successful business in the process.

"The best revenge is massive success." -Frank Sinatra

TL;DR; Told I was lying and didn't know anything about game design. Made a spite video game that became a huge hit. Jackass is also forever immortalized within the game credits.

PREFACE

This is a very unusual story compared to the typical posts you've read here. There's a lot to unpack but I'll try to summarize everything as best I can.

I hope you'll find it as entertaining as I did. And, what's great about this story is that it happened very recently, it happened here, evidence is searchable, and it's still kinda on-going. It's a tale of trolls, video game addiction, self-righteous arrogance, harassment, winning an impossible bet, a viral hit in Russia, and massive success with even some little revenge sprinkles for added measure.

Quick background about me: I've worked with game developers for decades and I'm an avid researcher and supporter of unorthodox and ethical video games used for educational and clinical purposes.

HOW IT STARTED

Two months ago, there was a new reddit post about "using video game to ease depression" that caught my attention.

The reason it caught my attention was because it was a game & study that I had in-depth knowledge of (from over a year prior.) Unlike everyone else in the thread, I was the only one who had actually seen the game, played it, knew the developers, and even had the original technical game design documents.

The article discussed a variety of topics but never addressed exactly HOW the video game was able to ease depression. So, I provided a quickly summary of what the game actually did.

[SKIP THIS SECTION IF NEUROSCIENCE & GAME DESIGN DON'T INTEREST YOU]

A quick side note about this article, for those that like extra details: One of the cool properties of ketamine is that, not only can it provide rapid and temporary relief for depression, it also actively heals damaged brain circuits. Then there's dopamine. A chemical that we internally produce, that has similar but less potent effects. There is no cure for depression, but these are promising treatments for some. The article focused on what's called "flow". Using certain game design methods you can induce a "flow state" by causing a sustained dopamine release. When used ethically, it can be highly beneficial in stimulating/training the brain to perform certain activities, improve or learn memorization, adapt to challenges, learn new concepts, exercise motor skills, and meanwhile rebuild pathways/synapses. While all of this is happening, the user is receiving pleasurable rewards without realizing it. This process can create new pathways, repair old circuits, and increasing their neuroplasticity. Increased neuroplasticity means improved cognitive functioning, reducing impairment of the reward process, and improving the effectiveness of antidepressant medications. Video games can be a unique non-drug option to accomplish this while easing symptoms. Research has already shown that many popular games can already accomplish this (unintended effects by the game developers). By comparison, the game design they used in this theoretical study was highly limited in scope, so permanent benefits were negligible compared to the temporary respite brought about by basic dopamine release. Science is still barely scratching the surface of neurotransmitters and flow state. There are still many unknowns, but dopamine isn't just a pleasure chemical that the media would like you to be believe. It can do quite a number of things. Research has shown that "flow state" can modify synaptic plasticity, improve connectors between cells/synapses, ultimately helping cells in the brain communicate better as a network and improve neural system intrinsic properties.

My summary posting was fine for a while, until predictable trolls arrived led by an "armchair game developer". Dr. Armchair definitely did not appreciate my post. It was an affront and insult to his profession. Within a few minutes, it dropped 30 karma. I don't care about imaginary internet points but I don't like being accused of lying. Dr. Armchair and his pals started with the usual "do you even lift?" Then it was quickly asserted, from their armchairs, that I knew nothing about flow, psychology, dopamine or game design at all. From their high horses, they contributed nothing useful; only taunts, defamation, attacking my character and physical appearance, and accusing me of being a liar and incompetence.

Apparently it was a very sensitive topic. Who knew?

It quickly devolved into Dr. Armchair gleefully, and repeatedly claiming, that he won, he was right, and I was wrong. He demanded that I essentially write a 300 page peer-reviewed study to prove him wrong, and when it couldn't be provided within 5 minutes, there were more gleeful cheers of "HAHA! I WAS RIGHT! I WAS RIGHT! I'M NOT LISTENING TO YOU LALALALALA.."

Obviously, it was going to be impossible to reason with Dr. Armchair and his buddies. But actions speak louder than words.

So, I claimed that I would provide undeniable proof in the form of a video game "a few months from now" that he could actually play for himself. Once again, claiming that I was lying and it was impossible. And more of the usual "It's been 5 minutes, where is it? Oh, you can't do it can you. HA! I was right! I BEAT YOU! I BEAT YOU!"

It was weird.

Eventually the mods had enough. Dr. Armchair and his cronies harassment, ad hominem attacks, accusations and inflammatory attacks resulted in multiple posts being removed. But my promise still stood and I fully intended on keeping it.

THE BOLD CLAIM

The plan was simple:

Create a proof of concept that demonstrates just the critical neuroscience principles that induce flow. To prove it beyond a doubt, I intended to also prove that MOST COMMON INGREDIENTS of a game are completely UNNECESSARY to accomplish this.

So, I made the very confident claim that the game would still be fun, addictive, and demonstrate flow state, even after ripping everything out:

No extras or frills. Built within a short period of time.

No music. No sound effects. No animations. No story.

No expensive art. In fact, hardly any at all: I would use ONE SINGLE ART ASSET for the gameplay (plus some lines.)

No feature creep. No sign-in system. No gacha mechanics.

No level design. No achievements. No RPG gamifications.

I could get at least a couple hundred people to play it.

I should have also mentioned that it would be built with ZERO BUDGET and NO MARKETING.

If this sounds like a strange way to make a game, it is. For a typical game developer, this would raise many eyebrows, and they'd consider it highly risky or improbable to achieve any success with both arms figurately tied behind your back while blindfolded.

HOW IT ENDED

While I was preparing to stress test the game online, it was discovered by .ru bots that were scouring the web for new games. Even before the game was ready, they published the game link on several Russian gaming sites.

The game exploded.

It has graphical similarities to Tetris, so it was a nice coincidence that the game essentially launched and did so well in Russia at first. After that, other game sites started discovering the game on their own too, even before I had a chance to submit the game myself. Most importantly, the proof of concept and everything I claimed worked (high ratings and retention). It proved so effective that the game is currently being played by hundreds of thousands of users worldwide. And it's a clear demonstration about the importance of combining psychology and game design.

I suppose you could say that there are many layers of revenge happening here, maybe even karmic justice or backfiring on their part, it's really hard to classify. The best kind of revenge is always massive success, and shoving it in their faces, however. But, on top of that, I also fully kept to my promises while proving these ignorant individuals so wrong they look like fools.

I also added some extra salt to the wound. I figured that success of the game was partly due to Dr. Armchair's ignorance. It was only fair that I included his name within the Game Credits. So, I officially gave this very wonderful human being a very "special thanks" for their support in making this success possible.

(source) story by (/u/postfu)

[alirhi]

random snippet again

as promised, @feralgoblintea here's the (temporary) scene where the two sisters meet for the first time since one went missing as a child

note about the nickname: Rachel's middle name is Miranda; everyone has called her 'Andy' from that since she was a little kid. it's explained in her story, but not in this scene, so I just wanted to explain it here lol

"Your parents are very eager to know where you've been and what you've been going through all these years," the doctor told her, deep voice oddly gentle and soothing. Rachel smiled sadly; his voice reminded her of Amadeus. "Most of all, they want to know that you're alright."

She knew he thought she was crazy. Her parents definitely shared that opinion, which was why she was here to begin with. Still, she couldn't help asking, "And, in your professional opinion, am I?"

He caught her lightly mocking tone and snorted, leaning back in his chair to mirror her pose. "In my professional opinion," he shot back, though the sarcasm left his tone before he even finished his sentence, "you've been through Hell, Rachel. The trauma you've suffered is very, very real. If you're asking, do I believe in demons and portals and time travel, I'd have to say no. But that pain and fear came from somewhere... I'd like you to come back in for regular sessions, if you're up for it; see if we can cut through the fantasy, see past the demons and find the real monsters who hurt you."

"That's why I'm not coming back." She stood, shaking her head a little. "I'm not surprised you don't believe me - I probably wouldn't believe it, myself, if I hadn't lived it - but it's a bit frustrating. What I told you isn't metaphors or delusion. It all happened, and I'm not interested in having someone rip it all apart and try to make me doubt my own memory."

"They call that 'gaslighting' these days."

Startled, the blonde whirled around to face the source of the new voice; a woman she sort of vaguely recognized was standing in the doorway, hand on the knob, smiling at her. After a long moment, her brain helpfully edited the image before her to make it make sense; wild red hair to dirty blonde, violet eyes to mismatched green and blue, face younger and body smaller and more plump. "...Beck?!"

Rebecca's smile widened and she stepped forward with a nod. "Hey, Andy."

"Oh my god!" With a laugh and a delighted screech, she launched herself across the room and threw her arms around her little sister. "What are you doing here?"

Nearly squeezing the breath out of her, the younger woman murmured, "I heard you were back and had to see you. Stand your ground, Andy. Don't let them make you forget or doubt that it was all real. We know the truth." She released her, only to bring her hands up to grip the sides of her sister's head. "Magic is real."

Rachel froze, staring at Rebecca's mouth long after it closed and the two long, wicked fangs that had drawn her attention were hidden from view. "...What happened to you?"

"Not here. I'll tell you everything, but not here."

"Okay." Without so much as a backward glance at the shrink, she followed the redhead out of the office, past their fretting parents, and out into the bright sunny day that made Rebecca hiss.

She cringed and immediately donned a beat-to-hell baseball cap and a pair of dark sunglasses. "Fuck, I hate sunny days."

"You always did." Rachel couldn't help smiling faintly; so many years had passed, more than anyone in the world around them could ever understand, and yet so little about her baby sister had changed.

"Yeah, well... I've only gotten more sensitive to it."

Once they'd made it deep enough into the woods behind the Industrial Park that there was no risk of anyone overhearing, they stopped, and Rachel asked her point blank: "You're a vampire, aren't you?"

Rebecca laughed, gratefully leaning back into the shade of the nearest tree. "Only in our lives is that a casual conversation starter. And yes. Thankfully I'm old enough that daylight won't kill me. It's just unpleasant."

With her own accidental time travel in mind, the blonde asked, "How old are you?" Thirty-seven, she knew, in the eyes of the people around them; to them, Rachel herself had only just turned thirty-nine, and yet both sisters looked at each other with exhausted, haunted eyes millennia older than they could ever hope to make anyone else understand.

"As a vampire, or in general?" She smirked, shrugging off her own question before her sister could answer. "In general is harder to pin down, but I've been a vampire for about six thousand years, give or take a few."

Leaning against a tree roughly opposite Rebecca's, Rachel mirrored her smirk and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was Queen of an entire planet, and then POW and slave on a second, then a fugitive... I managed to send my older daughter home, before I got stuck on a third planet with my boys and little girl. It's been about ten thousand years."

"You have kids?" Rebecca grinned, once again showing those distractingly long fangs. "Me, too! I have two daughters, Madeline and Alice."

"Senna, Kieran, Caspian, and...Cassie," Rachel told her in answer to her unspoken question. She couldn't help blushing as she listed her children's names; she'd since learned what senna was, and hadn't actually given her younger two children names beginning with the same sound on purpose. It had just sort of worked out that way.

"Twins?"

She shook her head. "Caspian's my stepson, kinda, and Cassie was named after-"

Rebecca flinched, remembering. "After Cassie Wade, right? I was so focused on figuring out what happened to you, and then fighting to survive, I'd forgotten she went missing with you."

"She..." Clearing her throat, the blonde squared her shoulders and pulled her strong front around herself like a familiar safety blanket. "She saved our lives; she didn't make it. And, yeah. I named my youngest after her. Anyway, they're all grown, and Kieran..." Jaw clenching, she forcibly dismissed thoughts of her rapist and merely said, "He's my perfect warrior prince. Well, King now. I love them all, and desperately miss Senna, but Kieran, despite his more questionable choices, has a special place in my heart."

Rebecca took her sunglasses off and studied her for a moment before venturing, "Y'know... I literally eat rapists for breakfast."

That got a startled bark of laughter from her big sister, who shook her head. "Even if my boy hadn't already killed him, I doubt his gross, rancid blood would sit well with you. He wasn't human."

The redhead shrugged, smirking again. "Doesn't have to be. I've eaten Fae, elves, one vampire that pissed me off royally..."

"Not such a picky eater anymore, huh?" she teased, grinning. "Was it some badass revenge on your sire or something?"

Laughing, Rebecca shook her head. "Nope, no sire. I'm the OG vampire, babe. The first of the species. My younger daughter, Alice, is the first of the natural born vamps."

"So, wait... You could still get pregnant after you were turned? What?" Rachel frowned, beyond confused. "And how the fuck...?"

"I'm not dead," her little sister explained with another laugh. "Everything's slowed way the hell down, but hasn't stopped. I can't have kids with a human, or probably most Fae, but a certain trickster God..."

"...God?"

She grinned and nodded, though her haunting violet eyes looked sad. "Loki. He's Alice's dad."

"Huh. So the Gods are real." Rachel snorted. "Go figure. And my sister banged one."

"I loved him," the other woman whispered, staring at the ground. She opened her mouth as if to speak further, then seemed to reconsider and closed it again, clearing her throat.

To spare her from some clearly painful memories, whatever they were, Rachel asked, "What's a Fae?"

"Fairy," was the simple enough answer. "Fairies are real, too. Maddie - my oldest - is Fae."

Is she Loki's, too? She didn't dare ask - Loki was clearly a touchy subject - but she was dying to know.

As if she could read her mind, Rebecca, still avoiding her gaze, explained, "I was still mortal when I had her. Her father was Fae."

As the light breeze shifted the leaves above them, making the light dance across Rebecca's ghostly white skin, Rachel finally noticed the scars. At first, they'd looked like tribal tattoos, done puzzlingly in a silvery-white. When she realized they were actually a complex web of ancient scars, she also noticed they covered every inch of her sister's flesh that she could see around her shorts and tank top. Her face was the only place free of the oddly beautiful swirling lines, though she did spot a faint scar on her forehead, running from hairline to cheekbone and through the outer edge of her eyebrow.

"Is Madeline's father why you hunt rapists?" Is he the one who tore you apart?

"He didn't rape me... Technically. But yes, he's the one who scarred me." At her startled look, Rebecca smirked; it utterly failed to reach her eyes, but it was a start. "I can read your mind. I'm trying not to - I find it unspeakably rude and invasive - but when you're actively thinking about me, it tends to cut through my shields. The scars are from a spell he worked on me; blood magic. It's what made Maddie's conception possible, and chained me to him for years."

"Kieran's father was my greatest enemy; Crown Prince of the people who'd been attacking and slaughtering mine. King by the time I escaped." She didn't know what made her suddenly share this, but it felt like the thing to do. Her sister had told her something deeply personal and troubling; it seemed only right to meet candor with candor. Besides, Rachel and Rebecca had been two peas in a pod as children, as close as two sisters could possibly be. There was no amount of time that could strain their relationship. "I was captured in battle and kept as a slave for around a year and a half."

"How did the other three come about?" She smirked again, shoving her wild red hair back off her face impatiently. "Even when we were kids, I'd have bet just about anything that you're gayer than a rainbow, so how do you have so many kids?"

Rachel laughed, rolling her eyes. "Political marriage gave me Senna - born in a dungeon, thanks to me being pregnant during the battle and not knowing it yet. She was smuggled home to her father after she was born. I made a friend in that Hellhole, Emil, and he'd been raising Caspian; he's not his biological father, but that never mattered, just like it didn't matter to me that I didn't give birth to him. That boy's just as much my son as Kieran. We were supposed to go back to my home when we escaped, but something went screwy and we ended up on Achlys, instead, where I met my girlfriend and we all decided to just settle and raise the boys."

"So you cheated on your husband?" Rebecca's grin was teasing - and, thank god, reached her eyes at last! - but Rachel still threw an acorn at her when she said, "You whore!"

"I never saw him again! And he wouldn't have given a shit," she explained with a laugh. "I was, like, his third or fourth wife. And like I said, it was purely political; I was Queen, he was my advisor, he wanted power and I wanted an heir. Enter Senna, who boosted Raziel from random noble to father of the next Queen, and assured that there would be someone to take the reins if I died."

"So..." Her sister began ticking points off on her fingers as she spoke. "Shrewd political moves gave you Senna, you're co-parenting Caspian with a friend, we won't speak of Kieran's origins... How and why was Cassie a thing?"

Rachel shook her head, gaping at her. "A thing? That's nice, Beck. Real nice."

"Gods, you've missed so many cultural shifts, dude." Rebecca shook her head right back, trying not to laugh at her. "Just answer the question, old lady."

"Emil and I, and my girlfriend Trinity, all talked and decided to hell with conventionality; we all love each other, so we'll all be together. Em's my exception, I guess; the only man I've ever been attracted to even after seeing him naked. Our boys were grown, Senna was long gone, we'd made a whole new life for ourselves, so we decided to have another baby. Enter Cassie." Rachel sighed, staring off into space. "And now she's grown, Kieran's back in that awful place trying to turn it around, married to a great girl, Caspian's there with them to help..."

Though she had a feeling she knew the answer, the vampire asked softly, "And your lovers?"

"...Dead. Cassie - Cassie Wade, I mean - died in prison, Trin and Em were killed in the second war." A bitter smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "Kieran and Cas are running a third."

"There's always another fucking war," Rebecca grumbled. "I've watched so many of them come and go, fought in two, myself... It never really ends."

[wolveria]

Unable to perceive the shape of you - Ch. 6

Pairing: Connor x f!Reader x Nines

Summary: After breaking the RK twins out of the MarineLife facility, you were determined to return them to the ocean before getting caught by your employer.

What you hadn’t counted on were the brothers deciding you belonged to them.

Prompt: Mermay! (Shape of Water/Splash AU)

Word Count: 2.9k

AO3

When Nines offered to drive, you tried to say no. There was no way he knew how to drive, but he insisted he was a fast learner, and you were barely able to stand.

Connor had explained the reason why with his cheeks tinged an adorable blue. Something about ceta semen having a ‘sedative’ effect on humans. Your response was to give him a goofy smile and tell him that meant you were ‘drugged on his cum.’

His face had gone an impressive shade of blue as he’d led you out to the car.

It turned out Nines was a decent driver, or seemed to be from your limited view of the backseat, your head resting in Connor’s lap. He hadn’t exaggerated about the strange aftereffects, though in all honesty, you didn’t mind. Connor’s fingers trailed lightly across your hair, fingertips rubbing your scalp, you thought you might have died and gone to heaven. Even the pain in your legs was unnoticeable, something you hadn’t experienced in years.

You were going to joke if ceta semen had magical healing properties but you fell asleep before you could, and by the time you woke up, you were sober and aching again. Not a magic cure-all then, but a temporary, effective distraction.

It would have been scientifically interesting if you hadn’t been so shocked at your own behavior. You’d had sex with, not one, but both of them. You hadn’t planned for it to happen, and now that it had, your stomach churned terribly with nerves.

As if that wasn’t complicated enough, you had the two bite marks on your shoulders that meant something very specific to ceta behavior. Were they aware of what the marks meant? They’d bandaged your shoulders with the supplies meant for them, and apart from apologizing for biting you (“I don’t know why I did it,” Connor had said, brows furrowed), they hadn’t said anything else about it.

They couldn’t possibly know. According to the records, they’d been wild-caught very young and hadn’t been old enough to be taught by other wild cetas. It had just been instinct, nothing more. You weren’t going to tell them that cetas only bit during sex to mark their chosen, lifelong mate.

What would be the point in telling them, anyway? It wasn’t like you were a viable mate to begin with. Plus, you would reach the coast by the end of the day, and they would be gone from your life forever. Leaving you only twin scars to remember them by.

You buried your face against Connor’s thigh, wishing you were drugged or high or whatever. The biologist in you wondered why their semen even had that affect. Was it simply a mismatch of biology? Or was it a way to actually lure and capture their prey, like a spider with a web.

If so, you were a thoroughly captivated fly. Connor’s fingers had started moving in your hair again, and your eyes were already half-closed as you fought to stay awake.

You couldn’t stay in Connor’s lap forever, unfortunately. Rubbing your eyes, you pulled yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the sharp pain in your spine from the awkward position.

“What do you guys want for lunch?” You stretched and cracked your back, wincing as you you stared out the window at the slanted sunlight. You frowned. “Or… dinner. How long did I sleep?”

“A few hours,” Connor said, tilting his head. “You seemed tired and we didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks warmed uncomfortably. You were supposed to be taking care of them, not the other way around. “We can stop for something to eat then—“

“We can’t stop.”

Nines voice cut through yours, short and tense in a way that was unlike him. When your looked at him, you realized the tablet attached to the dashboard was on, muted but on a 24-hour news channel.

“What?” you asked. “Why not?”

“Show her.”

Connor leaned forward and tapped his finger on the screen. You’d forgotten he said something about stealing smartphones belonging to the techs to use them, and he definitely seemed comfortable using technology.

He sat back but stayed close, his knee pressed against yours. The news segment played, unmuted now.

“Today in what can only be described as an egregious theft, two Ceta sapiens were stolen from the research facility known as MarineLife. It’s suspected that this woman, an employer of the company, is responsible for the missing creatures.”

You stared at the blond newscaster as she read your name aloud, and when they showed your employee pictures on the screen, the car slightly spun around you.

“If you have any information of the whereabouts of this woman, contact the proper authorities immediately. Do not approach the suspect as these animals are dangerous and highly aggressive.”

“They know what my car looks like,” you said once the news clip ended. “The police will have my registration. We have to ditch the car. Find a new one. Steal one, or, or something.”

Connor said your name, but you barely heard it.

“I should have thought of this. I should have anticipated—“

“It won’t be a problem for now,” Nines said, effectively cutting you off again. “I have been using your GPS to keep us on rural farm roads. No one should stop us.”

“What if they do?” you asked faintly. You didn’t miss the way Nines gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“We will make it to our destination. I won’t allow anyone to get in our way.”

You shivered and wrapped your arms in front of your stomach. The warmth of Connor beside you wasn’t enough to ward off the cold feeling of dread tucked along your spine.

Since going into cities with your car and showing your face was out of the question, so was NYC. You’d planned to drive them to the beaches and let them go there, directly into the ocean. Now having to evade authorities, Nines drove the car further north of the city toward the Hudson.

True to his word, you only stopped for bathroom breaks. Aside from sunglasses you didn’t have anything to hide your face, so you were careful to avoid cameras, even as Connor assured you they were interrupting the feeds with echolocation bursts.

At least ten hours from when you’d left the motel that morning, you finally arrived at your destination, a mystery to you since Nines wouldn’t say where you was going. Between him and Connor, they’d completely taken over the journey and you didn’t have much say in the matter. You’d convinced Nines at one point to let you drive, and after a couple of hours of magnifying leg pain, you gave up and let them handle maneuvering the backroads of New York.

You should have been impatient to get them to freedom, but you couldn’t help but be relieved, if not a little confused, when Nines turned down another backroad deeper into the maple and birch forest.

You narrowed your eyes at the road but couldn’t read the sign you passed in the darkening twilight.

“Where are we going?”

In the rearview mirror you watched as Nines’ eyes flickered to Connor’s in that way of silent communication. As if to prove your suspicions, Connor turned to you and answered in place of his brother.

“Someplace safe where we won’t be seen for the night.”

Racking your brain, you tried to think but couldn’t think of any places in the area that would fit that description. It wasn’t until the car passed other parked vehicles, some of them trailers and campers, that it finally clicked.

“Oh.” You rubbed your aching knees. “I don’t have any camping equipment. Just some blankets, and it’s going to get chilly.”

“We will make due,” Nines said in his usual dismissive manner.

You didn’t know if he meant to come across as so cold, but it didn’t stop you from leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms, pointedly looking out the window. You were growing self-conscious, even anxious over what had happened the night before. Neither brother had mentioned it, when it had filled your thoughts for most of the day.

Connor gently nudged you with his elbow. He’d been beside you the entire time, either in the backseat with you or in the front seat as you’d driven. Practically connected at the hip all day, even he hadn’t mentioned anything about last night, and the tension in your stomach wound tighter. A taut bowstring about to fire or snap in half.

So it was no surprise when Connor touched you, you flinched hard in your seat. His brown eyes went rounder and he moved closer.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” You gave him a quick upturn of your lips. “Just tired.”

Connor’s brow sharpened as he studied you closer. You tried not to squirm in your seat. The bumpiness of the dirt road, if it could be called that at this point, helped cover the movement.

Nines turned the car into the forest and carefully maneuvered the vehicle through the trees until he came to the edge of a clearing. He put the car into park and turned off the ignition.

The sudden silence, without the sound of the engine or traffic or city noises, was an uncomfortable pressure on your ear drums.

Desperately needing to fill the dead air, you asked, “Are you sure you two don’t want to leave tonight?”

Connor slightly tilted his head but Nines’ shoulders stiffened from where you could see them under the headrest.

“The Hudson isn’t far,” you continued, forcing yourself to sound neutral, as if each word didn’t hurt somewhere in your chest. “We could be there in less than an hour, and you could follow it out to the sea. You could… go home.”

Connor shifted in his seat and slightly leaned forward, brows so sharp there was a crease between them.

“What about you?” His eyes searched yours, his teeth worrying the inside of his cheek. “They’ll catch you. Punish you for helping us.”

“I’ll be fine.”

It was almost funny how your lies had changed. You were the one without hope now. Trapped in a pool of water with no way out. But the lie was as necessary now as it had been then in order to protect the twins.

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Connor opened his mouth but Nines cut him off.

“You want us to leave, then?”

You were completely taken aback by his hostile tone.

“What? No. Of course not. Nines—“

He was already moving, shoving the door open and shutting it hard behind him. You quickly lost sight of him in the dim tree line.

Your mouth hung partway open, at a loss of what to say.

“He’s scared.”

Connor’s words were delicate and his eyes soft, moving from where his brother had disappeared and down to your face.

“He’s afraid to lose you. We both are. We know it’s unavoidable if we go back home.”

“If?” Your voice rose slightly, your chest tightening. “There is no if. You-you have to go back home. There’s no other option. You can’t—“

Connor reached out and took your hand from your lap, twining it between his, leaving you warm and without a voice.

“Maybe… we could find a way to work.” His words were slow and careful but his expression was one of lingering hope. “We can survive on land so long as we’re hydrated frequently. With our abilities we could easily disrupt ATMs and cameras, so money and moving around won’t be an issue. The Canadian border isn’t far, and we—“

His words had sped up, the excitement in his voice building, and it hurt you to have to cut them down.

“Connor, you can’t.” You squeezed his hand tight, pleading with him to understand and not make this difficult. “You and Nines have to go home. You don’t belong in this world. Why would you even want to stay when it’s been nothing but cruel to you?”

He tilted his head and angled his brows upwards.

“Because you’re in it.”

Your mouth opened but no words came out, and you were left like that, gaping stupidly at him.

Connor leaned closer, a gentle tug teasing his lips.

“Did you really think we would leave you behind? Let the humans lock you away after you risked your life to save us?” His expression folded into something slightly pained. “Nines hasn’t told you, has he? What they were going to do to him after I was sent to the breeding facility.”

You shook your head, mouth too dry to speak as your gut twisted. You hadn’t actually thought about it, but knowing your employers, it couldn’t be anything good.

“They were going to kill him.”

A darkness passed over Connor’s face, one that was rare to see but genuinely frightening.

“‘Destroy him,’ is the phrase they used. Afterwards, they planned to take him apart. Disassemble him to learn more about our species.”

Connor searched your face. “Do you understand, now? We owe you our lives. The both of us.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Your words had to fight past the lump in your throat; your grip on his fingers must have been painfully tight. “This isn’t about me.”

Connor raised his other hand to tangle his fingers in your hair and leaned forward as if to kiss you. Instead, he leaned his forehead against yours as his hand cradled the back of your neck.

Somehow it felt more intimate than a kiss, sharing the same breathing space with him and feeling the heat radiating off his skin through his clothing. A tremble rippled down your spine when Connor sighed and you felt the puff of air against your lips.

“We’re not abandoning you.” The smile tugged at his lips again. “Especially Nines.”

You frowned at the very confusing statement. If anything, you felt like the tension between you and Nines had gotten worse since last night, and you couldn’t understand why.

Connor caught sight of your frown and raised a brow. “You’re important to him. Have been since we first met you. You… treated him like a living being. No one else at that place did. You even gave him a name.”

You remembered it all too well. On the official research documents, the twins were labeled as RK800 and RK900, and they’d never bothered to give Nines a name. Dr. Stern had given Connor his name, and you’d found out why the other brother had been left as ‘RK900’ late one night while you were cleaning the offices.

Dr. Kamski was tucked away in his office also working overtime, but there was an open bottle of whiskey on his desk. It had been obvious he’d had more than a sip, and you imagined that was the only reason why he’d started talking to you.

“Do you know why we gave a name to the cute, little one, and not its larger, aggressive sibling?” He’d smiled with the same warmth as a shark. “Temperament. Everyone loves Connor, or as much as one can love a wild animal. But its twin, that hulking beast… well… there’s only so much you can do with a vicious creature like that.”

Dr. Kamski had leaned in uncomfortably close, smiling in a way that didn’t meet his eyes, and said, “You name the family pet. You don’t name the livestock.”

You hadn’t known exactly what he’d meant at the time, but knowing now what they’d had planned for Connor and Nines, it made you sick down to your bones. You wanted to hide your face from Connor, at the gentle look he was giving you. It was undeserved.

“Yeah,” you grumbled. “I named him like a pet.”

“He didn’t see it that way. Still doesn’t.” Connor’s thumb rubbed across the back of your knuckles as if to soothe you.

“Aside from me, you were the only other person who’s ever been kind to him,” he added, a teasing edge to his voice. “I know you care about him too.”

“Of course I do,” you said, it wasn’t even a question. “That’s not… not the issue, Connor. I don't want you two to be caught because of me. It’s not worth it.”

Connor slightly lowered his head, giving you a piercing stare that turned his brown eyes into dark stones.

“I think that’s for us to decide.”

Connor leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead. Unable to resist or deny him anything, you closed your eyes and basked in the warmth, leaning into the touch. Already your internal walls were breaking down and you wanted to tell him yes, you would stay with them no matter what.

But you couldn’t make that promise, not when it put their lives at risk.

“Just think about it, okay?” Connor’s smile was so faint it almost wasn’t there, though the sadness was. As if he knew the thoughts running through your mind as there wasn’t anything he could say to stop them. “There’s still time.”

Pulling away from you, Connor opened the door and got out of the car, leaving you cold and alone.

A glimpse of your life without the RK twins in it.

Next Chapter

[majingojira]

Spider-Man Real-Time Aging Timeline

I’ve been asked to get on my crazy again with this, this time for Spider-Man. Well, here goes and boy, this is about to get WEIRD! A lot of this IS based on Spider-Man: Life Story, so if you are wondering about something, refer to that. 

Because there’s a LOT of Spider-Man events out there, I couldn’t include them all without going totally nuts.  If you have a question about them, ask!   Though beware, “The writers made that up” is a possible explanation.  1946 - Peter Parker, Mary Jane Watson, Jessica Drew, Luke Cage, “Flash” Thompson, and Gwen Stacy born.  1947 - Peter’s Parents die under somewhat mysterious circumstances. His Aunt May and Uncle Ben Parker take him in. 

1950 - Julia Carpenter born.  1962 - Peter Parker, 16 years old, invents a quick-drying temporary adhesive with properties similar to spider silk as an entry in a science fair (with hopes of catching someone’s eye to sell the invention to in order to aid his aunt and uncle).  Unfortunately, one of the other entries was a might volatile and explodes.  Peter is caught in the blast radius and injured.  Worse, while on the ground an escaped Tarantula bites his hand in its panic.  Peter recovers, but the incident was quite traumatic, and he associated everything that followed with that spider. 

When he recovers, he finds himself stronger, faster, and tougher than he was before, and more ‘aware’ of his surroundings.  Worse, he was ‘seeing’ things before they happened.  He doesn’t know what to do with these abilities at first but is inspired by seeing the masked wrestler El Santo perform on TV. He hits on the idea of fighting for money with a masked identity.  It goes rather well, but we know how this song and dance goes by now. 

After his, he invents gloves and boots to better help him climb across surfaces, as well as web-shooters for ranged entrapment.  He soon figured out web-swinging from there. And thus, Spider-Man was born!    But what did cause his powers to awaken?   It goes back a few hundred years. One of the greatest swordsmen of all time was a man named Zatoichi.  Upon learning of this man, one of the greatest criminal masterminds of all time (Fu Manchu) attempted to re-create this man’s skills.  This eventually led to the creation of the Nanjin, a sect of Warrior Monks who ritually blinded themselves to “See With the Heart”.  Over time, The Devil Doctor did his best to be eugenic about the subject, but random mutation is going to random. Peter Parker his the jackpot with his genes.  Upon suffering a horrendous injury, an epigenetic response kicked in and he became as they were--more in fact with an enhanced musculature and reaction time on top of it.   How strong is he?  Well, starting out, he was a very athletic human, far more so for his size and weight.  After fighting and working out for a few years, he could give some species of vampire a go without much problem.  Especially with his “spider-sense”.  

And yes, Daredevil is a trained Nanjin.  Obviously. 

Also, this year, Jessica Drew is the only survivor of a car crash into a chemical truck that kills her family.  With no one to watch her, she is kidnapped and experimented on by HYDRA.  1962-1966 - Many of Spider-Man’s classic rogues appear in this timeframe. Notable oddities about them based on what people assume are as follows: Vulture’s ‘flight harness’ was based on the old Doc Savage designed Rocket Pack, most famously employed by the Rocketeer (Cliff Seacord) back in the Late 30s/Early 40s; Otto Octavius is a Cthulhu Cultist; The Sandman is a person who absorbed a juvenile Founder/Changeling and gained some semblance of their shapeshifting abilities; The Lizard is likely tied to the experiments which created the “Alligator Man” of Bayou Landing (The Alligator People); Electro is one of several known “Electrical Mutants” -- people who were born with an electro-kinetic ability.  

1964 - Norman Osborn becomes the Green Goblin. 

1965 - Peter Parker meets Mary Jane Watson and Gwen Stacy. 

1966 - Flash Thompson goes to Vietnam.  

1969 - The death of George Stacy, Gwen Stacy’s Father. 

1972 - Giant-Size Spider-Man #2 - Spider-Man and Shang-Chi team up against Shang’s Father, Fu Manchu. 

Peter Parker marries Gwen Stacy. 1973 - Giant-Size Spide-Man #1 - Spider-Man tangles with (a) Dracula.

1974 - Giant-Size Spider-Man #3 - Spider-Man helps resolve a case started by Doc Savage in 1934.  

Flash Thompson comes back from Vietnam with a wife, Sha-Shan Nguyen-Thompson, but without his legs. 

Jessica Drew escapes Hydra’s indoctrination and tries to make headway as a hero on her own as “Spider-Woman”.  It does not go well. 

1975 - Marvel Team-Up #36-37 - Spider-Man meets Frankenstein’s Monster.  Superman vs. the Amazing Spider-Man - Spider-Man is tricked into fighting the legendary Superman by the machinations of Otto Octavius and Lex Luthor.  They eventually team up and stop the malcontents.  1976 - Jessica Drew decides to re-invent herself as the heroine “Jewel” since her powers really have very little to do with Spiders.  1977 - Professor Miles Warren’s plan of making Gwen Stacy his own via “cloning” is exposed by the ‘new’ Green Goblin, Harry Osborn.  Unfortunately, tat technology is over a decade away, and his “Clone” is more “Human Meat Puppet” and rather horrifying.  In the conflagration/confrontation, he and Gwen Stacy are killed.  Harry Osborn disappears for a time... Mary Jane Watson-Osborn and Peter Parker comfort each other over their mutual losses. 

Jessica Drew finds herself under the thrall of a mind-mage known as “The Purple Man.”  The thrall is eventually broken, but though she manages to recover, it leaves scars. 

1978 - Marvel Team-Up #79 - Thanks to a mystical malady, Spider-Man battles Kulan Gath, and things could have ended up badly for him, if not for the revelation that Mary-Jane Watson was a descendant of Red Sonja of Hyrkania.  Touching an artifact allowed the She-Devil to manifest in the present and aid Spider-Man in taking down her ancient foe. 

Spider-Man first encounters the blind seer Madame Web. 

Birth of Samuel Thompson to Flash and Sha-Shan Thompson.

Jessica Drew takes up two new identities, Knightress (for about 5 minutes) and Jessica Jones to distance herself from what happened. 

1980 - Marvel Treasury Edition #28 - Spider-Man manages to accidentally thwart the plans of Doctor Doom, to turn the monster known as Parasite into a massive energy storage device after it drained the life force from the Hulk, Superman, and Wonder Woman.  

Secret War - Spider-Man is one of the many people invited to this decade’s Mortal Kombat tournament.  Unfortunately for Shao Khan, so is Superman (Clark Kent), and he utterly wrecks the event, making the whole thing a wash, forcing Shao Khan to wait another decade to continue his win streak.  The monstrous being known as “Venom” follows Spider-Man from Outworld.  One of the people taken in by this is a survivor of “The Shop”, Julia Carpenter.  Taking a cue from Spider-Man, she dubs herself Spider-Woman (II).  

Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson marry. 

Mattie Franklin born. 

1981 -  Marvel Team-Up #111-112 - Spider-Man has a time-traveling adventure featuring King Kull, battling against Valusian Serpent-Men.   Marvel Team-Up Annual #5 - Spider-Man has more adventures with the Serpent-Men and their ancient enemies, Kull and Conan. 

1982 - The monster  “Venom” reveals himself. Its first host is Eddie Brock. 

May “Mayday” Parker is born.

1983 - The Venom creature spawns, creating the horror known as Carnage. It goes on to spawn more Symbiotes.  Jessica Jones has a child with Luke Cage (Daniel Cage) and later marries him.  1984 - Spider-Man and Batman: Disordered Minds - Spider-Man and Batman (III) team-up. 

Kraven’s Last Hunt occurs.

Cindy Moon, the grandaughter of Flash Thompson, born.  

1985 - Batman/Spider-Man - Batman and Spider-Man team up once again. 

1988 - Anya Corazon born. 

1990 - Julia Carpenter retires as Spider-Woman, Madame Web begins recruiting her as a replacement for herself. 

1991 - Richard Wentworth jr., the descendant of the pulp-era anti-hero known as The Spider takes to the streets, and takes umbrage with the ‘pretender’ that is Peter Parker. He and Peter clash several times over the next few years, and the comic industry uses the presence of a ‘second Spider” to inflate the “Clone Saga” to ridiculous levels. 

Thanks to developments from InGen being stolen when the company was liquidated in 1990, Efforts to Clone Spider-Man go forward under multiple groups. The results are nicknamed “Kaine” but artificial again technology doesn’t exist, so it wouldn’t bear fruit for many years. 

1993 - May Parker Sr. passes away. 

1995 - Richard Wentworth jr. goes to more volatile places around the world to sate his bloodlust. 

Miles Morales born. 

1996 - Gwen Stacy (II), niece of Gwen Stacy (via Gabriel Stacy) is born. 

Mattie Franklin, a half-demon with arachnid affinities decided to become “Spider-Woman”.  Her desire to prove herself causes quite a few problems. 

1998 - Mayday Parker has her first outing as Spider-Girl under her parent's noses.  After a few of these outings, she catches Mattie Franklin’s attention, who challenges her to a “Title Fight.”  Mattie loses and chooses to go by “The Scarlet Spider” for a time afterward. 

Benjamin Parker is born to Peter and Mary Jane Parker. 

Cindy Moon is identified by the Nanjin and is kidnapped for ‘training’ by them.  She ends up with a similar condition to Peter Parker. 

2000 - Peter Parker retires from being Spider-Man and working Biotech to become a teacher at his old High School. Mayday Parker takes over properly as Spider-Girl. 

2003 - Anya Corazon is kidnapped by the tattered remains of the organization known as Shocker and partly transformed into a quasi-magical cyborg super-soldier by them. She is rescued before she could be brainwashed by Kamen Rider (Kamen Rider Spirits).  She takes her new ‘gift’ and becomes known as “Arana”, though people often call her “The Other Spider-Girl” to both her and Mayday’s annoyance. 

2004 - Mattie Franklin dies battling drug-runners. 

2005 - Samuel Thompson becomes bonded to the “Venom” Symbiot (or a facsimile thereof) by the U.S. Government.  Dubbed “Agent Venom” he works with them as he furthers his military career.

Julia Carpenter takes over formally as Madame Web on the original’s passing. 

2009 - Miles Morales is bitten by a spider carrying an attempt to create a retroviral payload to make Nanjin Adepts.  He nearly dies from the venom, but it works -- with an added perk or two. 

2011 - Miles Morales becomes Spider-Man with Peter and May’s blessings. 

Kaine Parker reveals his existence to Peter, but more out of obligation, as he’d rather be left alone. He is not, thanks to mystical shenanigans.  Even moving to Huston doesn’t help in that regard.  He dubs himself “The Scarlet Spider”.  

2012 - Cindy Moon escapes the Nanjin order and goes to “Spider-Man” to help.  Mayday Parker does her best to get her settled after over a decade in isolation.

2013 - The “Ghost Spider” appears, and is eventually revealed to be Gwen Stacy (II), niece and namesake of the Gwen Stacy Peter knew.   She is ‘accepted’ by the family, but has been through quite a lot and is often chastised for making bad decisions. 

2018 - Miles Morales has his mind swapped with that of the extremely aged Otto Octavius via a dark ritual.  

2019 - Miles Morales is freed of Otto’s domination of his mind. However, the Grand-Nephew of Otto Octavius (name currently unknown) begins causing him problems, dubbing himself the “Superior Spider-Man.”

[kaitlyn-imagines]

Oh my god Halloween requests? Featuring characters as monsters? You beautiful person we don't deserve you! Would you consider doing something with Sero as a drider? Thanks and happy Halloween!

Drider!Sero x Reader

Word Choice: 2125

Warnings: Mentions of spiders/spiderwebs

Summary: You’re on the run, and just so happen to run straight into a certain fellow’s web…

FYI a drider is a half spider-half person. Like a centaur, but with an arachnid 

I’m back! Sorry I’ve been MIA already recently :0 We got Halloween requests left in November, lol, but I love monsters and Halloween so I’m not complaining~ Can Halloween be every day???

You dashed into the forest, leaves and twigs sharp as they whipped against and cut.your face and ankles. You ignored the sting of their thorns, the fear of your capture pumping enough adrenaline through you to blot out your pain and exhaustion. The sounds of the hounds seemed deafening, and you willed yourself to continue sprinting deeper and deeper into the darkness of the woods.

All light seemed to disappear the further you went, as if the sun had completely abandoned its shift and retired early for the day. You couldn’t hear the sounds of your pursuers anymore, but you continued onward nonetheless. The smell of damp wood was hardly a reassurance; why hadn’t your hunters followed you into the forest? The thought plagued your mind, and you couldn’t decide whether or not to accept the feelings of relief or dread it filled you with. 

Suddenly, you felt winded as your body hit what felt like a wall, lurching forward before repelling backward in a harsh one two. The whole front of your body met with a sticky substance that clutched to your clothing. Its strength was enough to catch you from falling backward, pulling you back into an upright position. With a startled gasp, you pulled backward to reel away, but whatever was holding your clothing had a vice like grip on you. It pulled you back into it, the skin of your arms and your neck catching into the sticky substance.

A slow panic began to settle into you, and you began to struggle against whatever was keeping you captive. The vibrations of your movements seemed to ripple through it, yet the lines were durable and unforgiving. Eventually your body ceased to move, the exhaustion from your escape and your struggle finally overwhelming your body. Your breath was labored, and with a sinking feeling, you let the plush cushion of the sticky wall cradle your sore body. 

Your eyelids felt heavy, but you raised your gaze nonetheless to look left and right. Without any more fight left within you, your eyes calmly fell onto the edges of the sticky wall. Recognition flashed in your brain; you knew what this was...a spider’s web. But what sort of spider could possibly make a web as large and strong enough to catch a human? The question bounced against the walls in your head, and a newfound fear began to settle into your bones. 

As if the universe decided to play a cruel joke on you, the small cracks of the branches above you caught your attention. A few twigs fell down from the tree canopy toward the forest floor, and you stared at them with wide eyes. Whatever was up there was much too large to be a bird or squirrel. Your body jolted back and forward as the web unexpectedly began to tremble with new vibrations. Something was in the web with you, and without thinking you let out a startled yelp. 

The sound seemed to catch the attention of whatever was near you, and the vibrations became more violent as it moved down the web toward you. With your face against the web, you couldn’t possibly see whatever was beside you, but sure as the sun you could feel the burning gaze of someone’s eyes. A curious hum caught your attention, and you squeezed your eyes shut fearfully. Your body was tensed, having no indication if or when your surveyor was going to come into contact with you. “This is new,” a male voice startled you. Was there someone there who could help you get out?! 

“Hello?!” you called out, eyes opening once more. “Please, if you’re there, can you please cut me loose? I’m stuck in here!” Small clicking noises sounded next to you, and your body tensed once more. With your sight blocked, you had to rely on your ears; but the sounds you heard were conflicting. Was it man or beast that neared you? You felt their presence come closer to you than before, the clicking louder as small threads of the web fell loose from your body.

You released a relieved sigh, thank you’s already falling from your mouth like a prayer. As the web was cut from you, your body began to sink and fall to the floor, but two arms caught you before you could land. They felt muscular and toned against you, and you didn’t have much time to wonder who they belong to as they gently spun you onto your back. Finally able to see, your eyes came to meet with those of a dark haired man. Upon seeing your face, his lips upturned into a friendly grin. He was devilishly handsome, and you forced your eyes not to trail down his bare chest.

“Hmm,” he said, his voice matching the one you heard earlier. “I’ve never caught a human before…? Especially one as cute as you.” Initially, his words caused a heat to rise to your cheeks before you fully comprehended them. Caught? You tore your eyes away from his face, finally noticing the man’s body. His upper body was muscular and human, but from the waist down the humanoid bodily features melted into a cephalothorax with eight hairy legs sprouting from it. A large balloon-like abdomen fell a little lower, and your eyes paused to land on the spinnerets that were already working toward producing more of the sticky web you had just recently found yourself caught in.

Noticing you staring lower, the drider released a short laugh. “It’s rude to stare” his voice moved up and down like a song. “Not that I mind, you know~” You dragged your wide eyes back up his body to his face, your whole figure frozen before the neurons in your brain finally fired. You let out a shrill scream, forcing your sore limbs to move as you try to wiggle from his grasp. 

The drider’s face seemed to lift in momentary surprise, but he kept his hold on you as some of his spare appendages worked toward unravelling some web to spin you in. Though you tried to get away, you were too weak against him, and moving became harder and harder as the sticky webs wrapped themselves around you. Your arms were forced against your sides as the drider spun you around, your head beginning to get dizzy. Eventually he set your mummified body back against the wall of the web so he could step back to look at you. He was generous enough to leave your head uncovered, allowing you to breath and crane your neck around. 

“Sorry about this,” he said, though it was hard for you to believe him with that wide smile still on his face. “I usually only catch deer and birds in my web, I’ve never caught a sentient creature like you before! I’m curious how you taste but...it’s awfully lonely out here, you know. I think it might be nice to keep you around to talk, right?” 

You couldn’t believe your ears. How could this spider-man speak so casually to you? He sounded friendlier than you’d have expected, but the fact that he just mentioned your ‘taste’ was off-putting enough to leave you reserved. When you didn’t respond, his smile wavered slightly, a little nervous. 

“Ah, it won’t be too bad!” he quickly added as if to reassure you. “I’ll be sure to feed you and stuff. And the webs are only temporary...you’re in no shape to be thrashing around like that. Besides...I don’t really want you to mess up my web…” he laughed a little at this, but you didn’t mirror it. He swallowed, relaxing his weight back onto his spidery legs. “Could you...at least say your name? I’m Sero.”

You frowned slightly, already finding it hard to hate Sero now that you knew his name and friendly demeanour. After a brief, stubborn silence, you spoke. “It’s (Y/n)...” Though it was quiet, your response to him elicited a soft gasp from Sero. Briefly, you felt a pang of sympathy in your heart. If he was that thrilled to hear two words from you, he really must have been lonely out here. How long had he been living on his own? 

“Hmm...well, I wish it had been better circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you (Y/n)!” Sero’s wide smile was back on his face, and again you were reminded of how handsome his human features were. You couldn’t tell with your untrained eyes, but you were near certain he was probably regarded as very handsome by spider standards as well. “By the way,” he started, eyes curious. “You were in an awful fright when you stumbled into my web. Why were you running into the dark forest? Most humans stay far from here.” 

So you’ve heard; that must be why your pursuers didn’t dare follow you into the woods. You swallowed nervously. “Well…” you began, your voice small. “I might have angered the wrong people.” You knew your answer couldn’t possibly suffice, and one look at Sero’s eyes told you he was waiting for you to continue. “In my pocket,” you notified him, looking down at your web-covered body, “is a red, glass stone. I took it from someone powerful.”

Sero’s eyes seemed to swirl with an amused look. “Cute and mischievous. I like that~” 

You tried not to let his light, flirtatious comments distract you. “This stone can fulfill anyone’s deepest, truest desire. It works only once, and whatever it creates cannot be undone. The man I took this stone from is corrupted with a blackened heart. He couldn’t have the stone.” Your eyes narrowed, and you couldn’t hide the bitterness that edged its way into your voice. “So I took it before he could misuse it.” 

You weren’t sure why you were telling him all of this, but something about Sero made it very easy to talk to him. His countenance was thoughtful at your words, and he nodded slowly. “This stone of yours...does it work on anyone?” You swallowed. You already found Sero to be a curious drider, but could this question suggest ill-intention? 

You spoke slowly. “Yes,” you said, “But the wish cannot be controlled by its user. The red glass stone sees deep into you to find your deepest desire, whether you are aware of it or not. It can cause great ruin if it falls into the wrong hands.” At this, Sero’s face leaned in closer to yours.

“Thank you for you honesty,” he said simply, a softer smile taking place on his lips. Though you have heard horrific stories of evil, dark driders before, everything Sero has shown you defied them. You knew he could easily be tricking you with a false character, but something in your heart willed you to believe him. “What do you plan to do with the stone?” he asked you. 

You could see how he hung onto your every word. “I’m going to destroy it.” You spoke simply, leaving it at that. 

Sero cocked his head. “Is that your deepest, truest desire?” he dug deeper, leaning closer still. You could feel his breath on your neck, and it sent shivers down your spine.

“I-I…” you stuttered, unsure how to respond. You couldn’t answer honestly, and it was becoming harder to think with him so near. He really was handsome, and even more so up close. “I don’t know…” you said truthfully, eyes hazed as you look at him. 

Sero’s lips ghosted over the skin of your neck. “I think my deepest, truest desire,” he said, his voice softer and lower than it was before, “is to find someone...anyone, who will truly know me.” Your eyelashes fluttered against his touch. “Someone who understands my very being, who can listen to my old stories and write new ones with me…” 

You crane your head to make eye contact with him. “I don't think you need a stone for that,” you suggested softly. His eyebrows lifted slightly, a tiny smile forming once more.

“I have been cursed in this hideous form to inhabit these dark woods for the rest of my life,” Sero said, a soft sadness settling in his voice. “What makes you think anything less than divine intervention could make anyone love me?”

You wished your arms were free of the webs so that you could reach forward to touch him. “You don’t need a stone for that,” you repeated, trying to convey your desire to comfort him in your eyes. “And you’re not hideous. You just need someone to give you a chance.” 

Sero looked at you, eyes desperate for any sort of reassurance that he wasn’t left to wander the world alone. “...Could you?”

[spideymarvelws]

The Dark Of Night -Part 3 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: Your past seems to catch up with you but spider-man is there to help you out

Warnings: None really

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: i’d like to mention that everything after endgame and infinity war never happened because my emotional state will never process it or accept it so i reflect it in my writing…Enjoy!!!!

Peter felt the shift in tone as he entered the compound. Usually it was busy with people running up and down the halls, trying to get things done while the conference room was always filled with agents or fellow avengers preparing or debriefing for the mission.

The energy always provided peter with a sense of calmness and pride. Calmness knowing that he wasn’t the only one trying to keep the world a safe place and that he was never alone in the escapades of being a superhero. And pride knowing that he worked along side legends that made their name through exceptional deeds and actions.

When he swung threw the open window to his room, he was greeted as usual by Friday before he opened his door to the hallway. Forgetting he still had his suit on, he ran back into his room and changed into his regular clothes, left for him by may who packed his suitcase to bring to his temporary room. Walking back out, he stopped by the elevator, pressing the button quite giddily to take him to the lower floors. Stepping into the cold, metal room, he realised that there weren’t any people following him in or rushing out of the many rooms situated next to his or across.

Typically, with the urgent call peter was given, he would see more hustle and bustle of his teammates getting ready to head out. Given the fact that he was running a little late, he let that factor slip aside, too blinded by the giddiness that came with fighting for the greater good. But the shiver’s down his spine told him otherwise, thats when the feeling crept up the back of his neck, a feeling of uncertainty and confusion.

As the elevator levelled, peter anxiously tapped his foot, the sound to bounced off the walls of the enclosed space, pounding in his ears. When the doors slid open, he was greeted with the sight of an empty living room.

‘did everyone leave without me?’ peter thought, as he swiftly made his was to the conference room, where he suspected everyone to be.

Hastily wiping the palms off his hands on his jeans, he grabbed at one of the handles to arched door. Turning the handled, the door creaked as he slowly opened it, expecting to see a room filled with people, but was greeting with the one and only tony stark standing by the wall length window, staring off into the city.

Peter stepped inside the room, making his presence known as he shut the door behind him. Tony turned his head slightly, nodding lightly, motioning for peter to stand next to him.

Peter slowly walked up to tony, glancing around from time to time while playing with his hands and swinging his arms, confusion clearly written on his face. As he approached tony, he felt anxious for the words that would be said to him by his boss and mentor.

After minutes of silence, peter decided to speak up,

“Um, you called me urgently mr. Stark?”

Tony looked slightly startled, his shoulders tensing before looking to the side, avoiding peter’s gaze and staring at the fake plant that sat in the corner of the room.

“Ah, yes, sorry. Um, take a seat peter,” tony stated gesturing for peter to take a seat at the long table that sat in the middle of the room.

Peter pulled out a chair, the drag of the legs on the glossed floor added to the silence that the room had been engulfed in, causing an unsettling feeling to linger in his stomach. He opened his mouth, voice filled with questions, but he was stopped before he could utter a syllable.

“I understand that you’re confused as to why I asked you here today peter,” tony started, removing his glasses and rubbing his nose with his pointer finger and thumb, before placing them back on his face.

“why isn’t anyone here?” peter asked tilting his head to the side, “ on the phone you said it was major emergency, I thought-”

“for you, it’s an emergency. If it was up to me I’d have the entire city searching but the rest of the team is on a mission which I have to go too a meeting about in an hour,” tony said, walking up to peter in his seated position, “so you can imagine the trust I gained for you to leave this with you parker ”

Peter stayed quiet as tony pulled up a set of photons and documents on the projected screen at the front of the table, the picture of you immediately catching his eye, showing him the cause of his immediate discomfort walking into the compound.

“As you know I’ve been searching for this girl for months, but now I finally have a solid lead,” tony excitedly said, peter notice his eyes shine brighter at the thought of getting closer to getting you back, “this might be the only chance I have and I’m not about to loose it,”

Tony took of the projection and handed peter a gold and red flash drive,

“This has the soft copy to all the information that you need, I don’t have much to time explain every detail“

Peter stood up and walked over to tony, taking the flash drive from his hand. He wiped the front with his thumb, staring at he design trying to suppress his chaotic thoughts. He could feel his hands starting to shake and his face starting to sweat from the information that he was holding, but before he could break without thinking, tony interrupted his thoughts.

“I’m trusting you with this peter, and if anything happens please don’t hesitate to call me,” tony said, placing his hand on peter’s shoulder, “Just please, try and bring her home, and if all come to worse”

Tony placed another object in peter’s hand, not daring to look in his eyes before he retreated back to his original position by the window.

In peter’s hand was a small syringe, about the size of his pinky finger, half filled with a clear liquid. Peter’s eyes widened when he caught on to what he was holding.

“Only use if she fights back, pull your punches and kicks, make sure to bring her back without a bruise on her body,” Tony said, his voice slightly cracking, “don’t harm her any more that I have,”

Peter never saw the soft side of tony, he was always so strong and independent when it came to teaching him and guiding him through his escapades, and peter couldn’t look away from his direct stair.

Peter looked down at the floor, tears filling his eyes as he thought about what he was about to do. But this was his chance to help you make mends with your father and help you in the way he didn’t have the push to do. Maybe this was his chance to make things right, and provide you and tony with a chance of redemption.

Which lead him to say the sentence that flowed out of his mouth,

“of course mr stark, I promise I’ll get her back”

Peter waved goodbye to tony as the black limousine pulled out of the driveway and drove away from the building. His hand fell when he knew tony was out of eye sight with him, but he stayed there and watched the car fade away into the trees surrounding the compound.

Peter walked back inside, his feet carrying him to his room. He sat at the foot of his bed, his hands still holding the syringe and the flash drive. He stared at the two items laying in the palm of his hand, thinking about how he was going to proceed with the task he was given.

If he were to tell you about your father finding where you were, helping you to escape once again, it might lead to you earning trust in him but ultimately with tony losing it and vise-versa if he were to side with tony.

You knew spider-man, not peter parker, but the thought of you thinking that his true identity was responsible for the one thing you dreaded at the moment did not settle well for him, so that plan was scratched immediately.

Peter ran his hand through his tangled hair, his gaze landing on his suit that he had thrown on his chair across the room.

“Fuck it,” he thought as he grabbed his suit. he quickly slipped it on, not before putting down the objects in his hand, picking it back up when his suit was secure on his body. Tightening his hold on the contents in his hands, he opened his window and jumped out. Raising his hand in the air, he quickly shot out a web, swinging from building to building.

He had no clue as to what he was going to do when he saw you again, but he knew that he wasn’t going to let you run, not anymore.

He was going to help you fix things, whether you wanted it or not because deep down he new, that’s what you wanted and he isn’t going to allow you wallow in painting and stealing any longer

He was bringing you home, to not only your father, but to a stable life again, that he hoped will include him in any way possible, even after his wrong doings against your will.

Masterlist / Previous / Next

taglist: @jadegill​ @shirukitsune​ @tom-lan​ @a-miserable-hufflepunk​ @jillanaholland​ @ietss​ @juliebean247​

[searchingwardrobes]

Start of Time: 5/9

Yes, the chapter count increased. This chapter passed the 4k mark, and I still had a chunk outlined, so I just decided to stop here and add a chapter.

Just reminding everyone once again that Wendy is the name Emma is going by right now because she doesn't remember who she is.

Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is? Written for @teamhook​​​​ on her birthday.

Rating: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals:  @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @kmomof4​ @welllpthisishappening​ @xhookswenchx​ @let-it-raines​ @winterbaby89​ @teamhook​ @bethacaciakay​ @scientificapricot​ @shireness-says​ @spartanguard​​ @thislassishooked​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​ @superchocovian​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​ @kday426​​ @optomisticgirl​​ @wellhellotragic​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @jennjenn615​​ @branlovestowrite​​ @vvbooklady1256​​ @hollyethecurious​​ @distant-rose​ @stahlop​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​  @snidgetsafan​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​​ @nikkiemms​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @lfh1226-linda​

Chapter Five

Graham Humbert, sheriff of Storybrooke, towered over Wendy, jotting things down in a pocket-size notebook. His eyes were actually kind, though he never smiled, and his accented voice was calming. Yet his presence seemed to fill the room and command it, making Wendy a little nervous. She rubbed her palms up and down her thighs.

“Do you remember what kind of vehicle you were traveling in?”

Wendy shook her head. Graham tapped on his notebook with the eraser of his pencil, his brow furrowing.

“Were you driving or were you a passenger?”

She let out a frustrated breath. “I can’t remember!”

Graham glanced at Killian, and the two men seemed to share something unspoken. The sheriff pulled over the ottoman and sat down across from her. Oh, so that’s what the look had been. They thought she was fragile. Her will bucked against the idea, and she straightened her spine.

“Have you had any flashes of memory? It could be anything - a color, a smell, a sensation. Nothing is too small. You never know what might prove helpful.”

Wendy narrowed her eyes as she thought. “Everytime I close my eyes, all I see is white. Sometimes I wake up from a nightmare, but all I remember are the sounds: breaking glass and my own screams.”

“It sounds like she was in a car accident,” Killian said.

Graham frowned as he scribbled again in his notebook, though what help those details could ever be she wasn’t sure. “Or there could have been foul play. Breaking glass and screams could be a lot of things.”

His words sent a slice of fear through her. “I don’t remember anyone else but me,” she hastened to add, if only to put aside her own fears. “I don’t remember anyone at all . . . even . . . before,“ the last was almost a whisper.

“Everyone has someone,” Graham assured her with a small, encouraging smile.

Wendy bit her bottom lip. “Do they?”

Graham glanced away and pocketed his notebook as he rose. “We haven’t found any vehicles yet, but if you drove off the road and into a ditch, the storm would have buried it in feet of snow. The weather’s promising, though, so we’ll keep an eye out.” The sheriff’s gaze shifted to the other man in the room. “Do you think she may remember anything new during your exam?”

Dr. Victor Whale scoffed as he pushed himself away from the fireplace mantel. While the sheriff had a calm and friendly demeanor, the doctor was the complete opposite. Wendy could clearly see why Killian had apologetically told her this morning at breakfast, “I’m sorry, but he’s the only doctor in town.”

“I’m not a miracle worker, Humbert,” Dr. Whale snapped as he sat on the vacated ottoman across from Wendy, “there’s little I can do for her here. Killian needs to bring her in for an MRI.”

“She is sitting right in front of you,” Wendy snapped. “I’m not five. I hate when male doctors talk about their patients instead of to them.”

Whale’s brows rose in surprise, and behind him, Killian and Graham both snorted with laughter. From the stairwell, a small voice backed Wendy up.

“Yeah! And kids don’t like it either, Dr. Whale! You always ask Papa the questions ‘stead of askin’ me!”

“Alice Milah Jones,” Killian scolded as he turned to where his daughter was hiding behind the railing of the stairs, “I thought I told you to go play.”

“It’s too cold.”

Killian sighed. “Then play in your room.”

“Fine,” Alice grumbled as she stomped back upstairs.

Killian gave Wendy an apologetic shrug, but she merely laughed. Alice was too much fun, far too honest, and frankly the only one who never treated Wendy like she might break.

“If I may do my job now?” Dr. Whale asked. At least he was directing the question at Wendy now, and not the men behind him. She nodded.

He first shone a light in her eyes and asked her to look first right and then left. He felt the bump on her head, which thankfully no longer throbbed. He then pulled her hair back at the temple to examine the cut which had now scabbed over.

“Are you having any headaches?”

“Some, but not like at first. I mostly get them when I’m trying to remember something.”

Whale nodded as he put his stethoscope into his ears and pressed the end to her heart. He told her to breathe in and out. She always wondered if doctors really needed to use those things as often as they did or if it was merely for show. What did a bump on her head have to do with her heartbeat?

“And she - “ Whale started to turn and ask Killian the question, but he caught himself and turned back to Wendy. “And you passed out?”

She nodded.

“Hmmm . . . it definitely sounds like a concussion. Temporary memory loss isn’t unheard of, but it isn’t as common as they make it sound in the movies. It doesn’t usually last this long either.”

Wendy swallowed nervously. “What are you trying to say? That I’ll never get my memory back?”

Whale seemed to hesitate. “I can’t say anything definitive until I do an MRI. If you could come into Storybrooke General as soon as possible, we’ll get you looked at.” He jotted something down on a prescription pad, then tore it off and handed it to her. “Call this number and Astrid in neurology will get you scheduled. When I get to the hospital today, I’ll tell her to be expecting you.”

“Wow, um . . . thanks.”

Whale grinned as he slung his stethoscope back around his neck. “Benefits of small town health care - personal treatment.”

The way he grinned and lingered on the word “personal” made Wendy’s skin crawl. It wasn’t lost on Kilian either, who clapped a heavy hand on Whale’s shoulder and gave the man a tiny shove.

“I’ll take her myself.”

Wendy tried not to giggle at the way his jaw clenched and his blue eyes flashed. He was cute when he was jealous.

“Okay,” Whale answered Killian, never taking his gaze off Wendy. Oh, so now he was going to be the attentive doctor. She refrained from rolling her eyes.

Killian walked the men to the door and told them goodbye along with the back slaps and promises to grab a beer like most longtime friends in a small town. Wendy knew she should have been more polite, but she was so drained all she could do was collapse into the large comfortable chair. The laptop perched on the edge of the coffee table mocked her. They still didn’t have wifi.

The door shut, and Killian came back into the room. He had a tentative expression on his face. “So . . . what are you thinking?”

She blew a strand of hair out of her face and then slumped even lower in the chair. “I’m thinking that an MRI sounds awfully serious.”

He sank down onto the same ottoman that the other two men had perched on. Yet Killian’s nearness brought comfort instead of awkwardness and nerves. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. She waited for him to say the same things he’d been saying for the past five days: Someone out there is looking for you, I’m sure of it. You’ll remember soon, just give it time. Don’t be so hard on yourself, love . . .

Instead he gave her a lopsided grin. “Henry and Alice have been begging to make chocolate chip cookies. Wanna help?”

“You had me at chocolate.”

****************************************************

It had been six days since Killian brought Wendy home, and she was beginning to go stir crazy. They had taken several rides in the past few days on the snowmobile, and Wendy had met several more farming families in the area. Yet none of them knew who she was. She’d helped Henry shovel the walk and salt it, had helped Killian bake an obscene amount of cookies, and had met every member of Alice’s menagerie. She had even made a huge dent in the stack of books the kids had loaned her. Every moment had been wonderful, but Wendy couldn’t relax and fully enjoy any of it. Not when these thoughts nagged at the back of her mind, only to slip away like mist just when she was about to pin them down.

There was still no wifi, so Wendy also still couldn’t search the web for missing persons matching her description. Graham hadn’t seen any bulletins that fit her description, either, but she still wanted to try. Liam narrowed his eyes when she brought it up at dinner that night.

“Now that you mention it, a young woman your age, with your good looks, you’d think it would be all over the news that you’re missing.”

“Liam,” Killian gasped exaggeratedly as he spooned mashed potatoes onto his plate, “are you hitting on Wendy?”

“I’m making an objective observation,” Liam scowled.

“Does he ever take a joke?” Wendy laughed as Killian winked at her.

“Rarely,” Killian quipped.

“We don’t got tv right now, Uncle Liam,” Alice put in around a mouthful of chicken.

“We don’t have tv right now,” Killian corrected on autopilot.

“But Uncle Liam’s right,” Henry said, “if a missing woman was on the news, Sheriff Graham would have known about it.”

Killian’s brow furrowed. “That’s a good point, I have to admit.”

“Maybe your family, or your friends, or whatever, haven’t noticed you’re missing yet,” Alice suggested.

Henry rolled his eyes. “That’s dumb. How would they not notice?”

“We don’t call people dumb,” Killian admonished.

“I didn’t say she was dumb,” Henry argued.

“Maybe she ran away to play pretend,” Alice continued, oblivious to her brother’s insult, “cause everyone was bossing her. Like when I hide from Henry.”

“I’m not bossy!” Henry shot back. Alice responded by sticking out her tongue.

For her part, Wendy suddenly found her mound of mashed potatoes fascinating. She couldn’t bear to see the continued suspicion in Liam’s eyes or the pity in Killian’s. Was Alice right? Was she running away from something? Who the hell was she if no one had reported her missing?

***************************************************

“I have to get out, or I’m going to go insane!”

Killian’s brows jumped to his hairline, and his hands paused as they scooped scrambled eggs onto Wendy’s plate the next morning.

“Me too!” Alice proclaimed, slamming her palm down on the kitchen island. Wendy gave the little girl a nod of commiseration, and Killian laughed.

“The roads should be clear by now,” he told them as he sat down before his own breakfast. “How about we all head to town today?”

The kids cheered, and Wendy smiled. Henry’s face quickly turned to a frown, however.

“You know what that means,” he told his sister, “school will start again on Monday.”

“Yay!” Alice cheered, brandishing her spoon. “I missed school.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “You won’t when you start doing fractions.”

“I like fractions.”

“You don’t even know what they are.”

“Do too!”

Killian sighed and Wendy laughed at his woebegone expression.

“I think I might go mad myself,” Killian told her.

“We’re all mad here, Papa!” Alice crowed with delight.

“Alice in Wonderland,” Wendy exclaimed, proud that she knew the quote.

“Yes indeed,” Killian confirmed, bopping his daughter on the nose, “and things definitely get curiouser and curiouser with these two around 24/7.”

Henry groaned at the dad joke, and Alice giggled. Killian turned to Wendy, his expression turning serious.

“And if we’re going into town, you need that MRI.”

**********************************************

Storybrooke General was a small, one story building only a block from the town’s quaint court square. Killian pulled his truck into a parking space, and turned to look at Wendy with concern.

“You sure you don’t want me coming with you?”

No, I’m terrified. Wendy pressed the thought back and gave a firm nod of her head. “I’m sure. You’ve got the kids with you, and I’m sure they’ll be bored.”

“Nuh-uh,” Alice objected, popping up between them from the back seat of the extended cab. “I wanna see Wendy’s brain.”

“How long have you been out of your seat belt?” Killian asked in alarm.

“Just now,” Alice answered glibly, her gaze still on Wendy. “Does it hurt when they look in your brain?”

Wendy swallowed nervously. “I don’t think so.”

Killian took her hand. “It will be fine, but if you’d like me to stay with you -”

“No really, you go ahead. The kids don’t want to be cooped up in a hospital waiting room.” Wendy turned to Alice before the girl could protest. “They won’t let you see my brain.”

Alice collapsed next to her brother with a pout on her face. “That sucks.”

“All you’d see is gray mush anyways,” Henry muttered, his eyes glued to a handheld video game.

“Gray mush sounds awesome!”

Killian shrugged his shoulders at Wendy sheepishly, but she only laughed. The kids had been such a wonderful, hilarious distraction during this entire ordeal, and they were quickly worming their way into her heart.

“And you’ll be okay walking to Granny’s from here?” he asked.

Wendy nodded. “Yep. It’s one block that way,” she turned and pointed out the window.

Killian handed her a small, simple phone. “This is the kids’ emergency phone. It only has four numbers saved in it: mine, Liam’s, David’s, and Mary Margaret’s. Just call me if you need me to come pick you up instead.” He paused, still not relinquishing the phone. “Or if it takes longer than expected . . . or if you’re upset . . . or -”

“I get it,” Wendy laughed, tugging the phone out of his hand, “use the phone if I need you for anything at all.”

“Exactly.”

“But Killian, I really will be fine. I may not remember anything about my life, but I do know one thing deep in my gut - I can take care of myself. Not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done, believe me, but I can handle a simple doctor’s appointment. Seriously.”

Killian let out a long breath and nodded. “I know. You’re right.”

“See you soon,” she told him and the kids as she opened the car door, infusing cheeriness she didn’t really feel into her voice. Killian didn’t pull out of the parking space until she reached the door and had turned to wave at him one last time.

***********************************************

The walk to Granny’s did Wendy good, despite the sharp cold still in the air. The sun was bright nevertheless, and the wind that bit at her cheeks and tugged at her hair was a welcome distraction from the disappointment that was the MRI. She was expecting to get some answers today, but after they slid her out of that contraption that felt far too much like a coffin, all the tech had said was “we’ll call you with the results in the next 24 hours.”

Wendy sighed as she wrapped her arms tighter around herself in defense against the cold. She’d snapped at the poor woman.

“Are you serious? I thought you were a trained technician! You can’t look at the pictures and tell me one damn thing? This is shit!”

Not Wendy’s finest moment, to be sure. (At least, as far as memory served - ha!) The tech had reacted calmly to her outburst, explaining that Dr. Whale would want to look at the MRI for himself before anything was relayed to the patient. So here she was, still with no answers.

Wendy turned a corner and smiled when she saw Granny’s diner - a quaint establishment with a retro vibe. The small patio out front was currently out of use - it’s chairs and tables still piled with a bit of snow from the storm. Wendy could imagine how nice the outdoor dining would be during the spring, and she thought wistfully that she would like to be here to see it. She shrugged out of her coat as she walked through the door, a small bell above her head jingling. She saw Henry and Alice on the other side of the restaurant, arguing over a song to play on the jukebox. Wendy’s eyes scanned the room, and her heart plummeted when she saw Killian in a corner booth.

He wasn’t alone. Sitting next to him - very closely, Wendy noted - was a redhead in a tight-fitting green silk blouse with a plunging neckline. Killian’s head was down, and she noted that the tips of his ears were red. The red head laughed, flipping her hair off one shoulder, then leaned over to place a lingering kiss on Killian’s cheek. Wendy spun away to hang her coat up on the rack by the door, unable to watch the couple any longer. Anger surged up in her at Liam Jones. If he didn’t want Wendy causing problems between Killian and this woman he was seeing, then why the hell didn’t he just say so?

Wendy shut her eyes tightly as another emotion rolled over the first. Jealousy - which was ridiculous. Killian was merely being kind to a lost stranger. He had made no moves on Wendy, had promised her nothing. His relationship with this redhead was something he was under no obligation to share with a person he had only known for six days.

“Wendy!”

She turned at the sound of the children’s voices as they rushed over to her. Killian quickly extricated himself from the limbs of his - girlfriend? - and hurried over with an eager smile on his face.

“Papa, she’s here, can we get milkshakes now?”

“Lunch first, Alice,” Killian replied automatically, his eyes never leaving Wendy’s. “Well, how did it go?”

He placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her towards their booth, and the small contact sent heat skittering up her spine. The physical reaction plunged her into immediate guilt when her eyes landed on the redhead. The woman narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips as she crossed her arms over her ample chest.

“Well, there’s nothing to tell. They said they’d call with the results in 24 hours.”

“Hm,” Killian replied, his face falling, “that’s too bad, I know that -”

“Killian, dear,” the woman purred, “is this the stray you’ve been telling me about?”

Killian’s brow furrowed and his jaw clenched. Wendy wasn’t sure if he was frustrated with his girlfriend or the situation.

“I’m Wendy,” she said, holding a hand out to the redhead in hopes of cutting through the awkward moment.

“Zelena,” the other woman replied, taking Wendy’s hand as she slid from the booth. It was all she said to her, dropping her hand almost immediately to turn to Killian and place a perfectly manicured hand on his chest. Over Killian’s shoulder, Wendy saw Henry make a gagging motion with his finger in his mouth while Alice rolled her eyes. Wendy pressed her fingers to her lips to prevent herself from laughing.

“Killian, dear, I have to go,” she told him in a pouting voice.

Killian swallowed hard. “Oh - um, okay.”

“Bye!” Zelena told everyone in a bright voice, wriggling her fingers at everyone.

Wendy gave Killian a pointed look after the woman breezed out, but all he did was duck his head, palm the back of his neck, and loudly clear his throat.

“So, burgers and fries all around, huh?”

The kids cheered, and the mysterious Zelena was soon forgotten. Mostly. Wendy’s mind kept going back to her and the way she’d run her fingers lightly over Killian’s chest. Granny’s grilled cheese and onion rings were amazing, the kids were entertaining as usual, but Wendy felt an inexplicable sadness nonetheless. Killian frowned when he noticed her pensively dragging an onion ring through ketchup.

“We’ll get answers soon,” he assured her, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

Wendy attempted a smile, but could only nod. Even the chocolate milkshakes Alice had begged for couldn’t lift the dark cloud that had fallen upon her. Liam had pointed out that she had a life out there somewhere that she would eventually go back to. What Wendy had failed to consider was the life that the Jones family was living, and had been living long before Wendy literally stumbled into it. She finally managed to meet Killian’s concerned blue eyes. It was time she pulled herself out of this self-pity and got to know this man who had helped her without question.

“So,” she announced after swallowing a cold, sweet mouthful of milkshake, “are you going to give me the grand tour of Storybrooke, or what?”

********************************************

Wendy learned two important things during her tour of Storybrooke, Maine. The first was that the town was the smallest place she’d ever been. No wonder they only had one doctor. The second was that the Jones children had far more energy than she ever could. They were leaving the docks after briefly watching the waves slap the sides of the boats wintering in the harbor, and she and Killian had fallen almost a block behind the children. Wendy shivered in her borrowed winter coat as they approached the opposite side of Main Street, heading back to Granny’s where Killian had left the truck.

“It’s much too cold for you to be out, love,” Killian commented, frowning at her in concern.

She shook her head. “You worry way too much, Jones.”

“So you’re not cold?”

“Of course I’m cold! It’s February in Maine, but I’m not dying. You don’t have to coddle me, you know..”

Killian chuckled wryly and scratched behind his ear. “Used to be it was Liam who was the worrying Jones, not me. If only you could have seen me in my younger days.”

“Oh really?”

He nodded. “Leather, piercings, a motorcycle - the whole bad boy cliche.”

“Was that before your wife?”

“Not really. I mean, that’s who I was when she met me. We were in school together, both pursuing veterinary medicine. She was a little older though - it was a second career for her. A second life, really.”

“A second life?”

“Aye, she had just gone through a divorce.”

“So you were her boy-toy, huh?” Wendy teased, giving him a little shove with her elbow.

Killian’s gaze became distant, and for a minute she regretted the joke, but then a slow smile spread across his face. “I was her boy-toy, and I was fascinated by her age and experience. At least, that’s how it was at first, but then . . . it became real. We fell in love.”

“Is that why Liam disapproved?” Wendy winced slightly at Killian’s surprised expression. “Sorry. I overheard.”

“It’s okay,” he told her with a shrug, “Liam has been very . . . let’s just say vocal with his opinions lately. I’m not surprised you’ve heard our fights. Yes, Liam worried that I was just Milah’s rebound. He softened a bit after we adopted the kids, though.”

“How old were they when . . . “ Wendy trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

“Six and three.”

What could a person say to that? There was nothing anyone could offer but empty platitudes to a man widowed with two young children to care for all by himself. Luckily, Wendy was saved from having to say anything by Alice running up and waving a bright red piece of paper in her hand.

“Look, Papa!” she told him breathlessly. “They’re doing a Valentine’s dance at town hall!”

“Hmm, I see,” Killian said as he glanced over the announcement.

Alice tilted her head and pursed her lips saucily. “Is that all you’re gonna say?”

Killian rubbed at his chin, glancing up at his daughter, then back at the paper again. “I’m sorry, starfish, I’m just surprised. This doesn’t seem like your usual thing.”

“What?” Alice gasped in obvious offense. She pressed up on her toes to lean closer to her father and jab a finger at the paper he held. “Didn’t you see this part?”

“Oh!” Killian chuckled. “It’s a costume party.”

“Can you help me make a costume, Papa? Please, please, pleeeease?”

“Alice, this dance is only four days from now.”

“But I have lots of old Halloween costumes that I can cut up and make into different things, plus all my craft supplies. We can do it, I know we can. Please?”

Henry frowned as he grabbed the flier. “This says you’re supposed to dress up as famous couples. Gross.”

“A couple just means two people though, right?” Wendy pointed out. “It doesn’t have to be romantic.’

“She’s got a point, son.” Killian was looking at Wendy, though.

“Can you go to the ball, too?” Alice asked her.

“Oh, sweetheart, Wendy will hopefully be back with her own family by then.”

“But,” Wendy rushed to add, unable to handle the disappointment on the little girl’s face, “if I’m still in town, I would love to go.”

“Yay!” Alice cheered, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “Can we go to the craft store for some supplies, then?”

Killian shrugged at Wendy as his daughter pulled him along, chattering about all of her costume ideas. As she watched him patiently follow his daughter around the craft store, listening intently as the child held up ribbons, buttons, and scraps of felt, Wendy berated herself for ever thinking the man could be single.

Phone ringing . . . You have reached the cell phone of Emma Swan. Sorry I missed your call. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you soon.

“Emma, this is Regina. You took the whole unplugging thing seriously, I see. I mean, I’m proud of you, seriously, you deserved it. I just needed to ask you a question about an interview I set up for you. You’re still driving back tomorrow, right? Give me a call as soon as your vacation is over.”

Phone ringing . . . You have reached the cell phone of Emma Swan. Sorry I missed your call. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you soon.

“Wow, Emma, you really did unplug. Wasn’t expecting you to ignore my texts, though. God, Emma, I’m not trying to sound like a dick here, but I did just propose to you. Then you run off? Please call me, I need for us to talk about this.”

Phone ringing . . . You have reached the cell phone of Emma Swan. Sorry I missed your cell. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you soon.

“It’s me again. Walsh. I felt bad about that last message. Listen, I love you, Emma. And I don’t care when we get married. We can be 64 for all I care. We can wait as long as you want. I just want to be with you. That’s all. Call me. Please?”

[humanise]

as curated by rosé, xxix, gmt+, feminine pronouns. this is a selective and private indie roleplaying account loosely based on mcu’s spiderman—a mixture of both tom holland and andrew garfield’s verses, although the details are based on headcanons. he is an adopted korean-american, and the rest of the details revolve around the possibilities of his having an entirely different background and therefore personality, so i gain my fun from interpreting this deviance. he comes from and lives in manhattan, new york. this blog claims no affiliation with hwang hyunjin from stray kids. [ ... under heavy construction ! ]

this blog is mutuals-only, interactions ranging from short threads with icons to possible novellas. i will not format heavily out of laziness, but you do you. might alter some formatting to fit my blog. also, might not follow first but will check blogs for following back to save me the anxiety.

triggering contents might appear from time to time, tagged accordingly. i will tag what’s reasonable, but if you need something specific tagged as “tw ...” please do let me know. mature contents might be sparse, he’s big into intimacy but kid is young, therefore there will be no smut here.

that being said, out of comfort, i will only follow those aged eighteen and above considering my own age. a hag, i know. as for muses, i don’t mind roleplaying with those younger than said age as long as they’re not that young.

will not be sending passwords due to anxiety, but i’ll read what i need to read prior to following you. also, due to mental health i can be sporadic in activity, thank you for understanding in advance.

lastly, this character is fairly original, and is made purposefully to not resemble canon all that much. all i’m seeking is the probability of what could happen to him as a person, with the deviance from the background, while still being bitten by that radioactive spider, transforming him eventually into spiderman.

he is still inserted into the latest mcu franchises as the protagonist, but he might exhibit different set of personality. might not be as cheerful and expressive, but he’s trying his best™.

basic roleplaying etiquettes apply. i don’t practice reblog karma much, but it’s best to reblog from the source since it might clog my activity, and i will try doing the same. gif icons come from diamondgifs’ bundle, colouring done by gallifreypsd and halseycoloring.

[ ... ] TEMPORARY DOSSIERS. TRIGGER WARNING: spiders, internalised racism, mention of abortion, shooting, parental death.

he was conceived out of marriage by a young woman, impressionable at best. she was eighteen, and so was on her way to abortion when her cousin stopped her. this cousin eventually adopted the baby, naming him using her husband’s last name, taking him as their only son as she was proven infertile. he was very close to his mother, and her death a year ago after being caught in the crossfire of a mafia war eventually became what propelled him into devoting his life becoming spiderman.

his adoptive father is a wealthy man, and therefore, has no qualms in pampering his wife and son. he’s been living lavishly, but that’s not always an ending solution to everything in his life. it was clear that peter was adopted considering his father is white, causing speculations to spread like wildfire amidst those attending the same private school when he was a child. he was not bullied outright because of it, but the rumours were enough to instil discomfort, and embedded some kind of trauma.

which sent him to eventually always dyeing his hair since he was around thirteen, camouflaging the fact that he is fully korean to desist the rumours about his being adopted. he knows early on that he is, however, despite the absence of outright confirmation about it. he’s smart, has always been. intelligence way beyond his years, sometimes doing some leaps in his elementary and junior years, so he’s now twenty and in his fourth year of university in nyu, studying engineering to continue his father’s legacy in the material development industry.

was bitten by the radioactive spider when he was doing a study tour to a laboratory, during his second year of university. you know the rest of the story—tl;dr, he explored his new abilities, learning to control them in his confusion, designing the suit after gaining unsolicited entry into his father’s building. he webbed all cameras, yes. master of sneaking in and out at this point. as for other abilities, parkour has been made easier thanks to the extra agility. more profile on his abilities to come later.

loves photography, still, as well as dancing. lives alone in a studio apartment nearby his campus. has an ‘aunt may’ who loves him a lot, who happens to be none other than his regretful birth mother, but the truth has yet to be disclosed. turned out a certain tony stark had been paying attention to him, threatening mildly to tell his father about the ‘dangerous stunts’ he’d been doing. agreed to help out with the civil war situation. no, tony stark did not die in the event of endgame either.

[prorevenge]

Ridiculed, accused of lying and incompetence, I shoved burning facts down their throats and made a successful business in the process.

"The best revenge is massive success." -Frank Sinatra

TL;DR; Told I was lying and didn't know anything about game design. Made a spite video game that became a huge hit. Jackass is also forever immortalized within the game credits.

PREFACE

This is a very unusual story compared to the typical posts you've read here. There's a lot to unpack but I'll try to summarize everything as best I can.

I hope you'll find it as entertaining as I did. And, what's great about this story is that it happened very recently, it happened here, evidence is searchable, and it's still kinda on-going. It's a tale of trolls, video game addiction, self-righteous arrogance, harassment, winning an impossible bet, a viral hit in Russia, and massive success with even some little revenge sprinkles for added measure.

Quick background about me: I've worked with game developers for decades and I'm an avid researcher and supporter of unorthodox and ethical video games used for educational and clinical purposes.

HOW IT STARTED

Two months ago, there was a new reddit post about "using video game to ease depression" that caught my attention.

The reason it caught my attention was because it was a game & study that I had in-depth knowledge of (from over a year prior.) Unlike everyone else in the thread, I was the only one who had actually seen the game, played it, knew the developers, and even had the original technical game design documents.

The article discussed a variety of topics but never addressed exactly HOW the video game was able to ease depression. So, I provided a quickly summary of what the game actually did.

[SKIP THIS SECTION IF NEUROSCIENCE & GAME DESIGN DON'T INTEREST YOU]

A quick side note about this article, for those that like extra details: One of the cool properties of ketamine is that, not only can it provide rapid and temporary relief for depression, it also actively heals damaged brain circuits. Then there's dopamine. A chemical that we internally produce, that has similar but less potent effects. There is no cure for depression, but these are promising treatments for some. The article focused on what's called "flow". Using certain game design methods you can induce a "flow state" by causing a sustained dopamine release. When used ethically, it can be highly beneficial in stimulating/training the brain to perform certain activities, improve or learn memorization, adapt to challenges, learn new concepts, exercise motor skills, and meanwhile rebuild pathways/synapses. While all of this is happening, the user is receiving pleasurable rewards without realizing it. This process can create new pathways, repair old circuits, and increasing their neuroplasticity. Increased neuroplasticity means improved cognitive functioning, reducing impairment of the reward process, and improving the effectiveness of antidepressant medications. Video games can be a unique non-drug option to accomplish this while easing symptoms. Research has already shown that many popular games can already accomplish this (unintended effects by the game developers). By comparison, the game design they used in this theoretical study was highly limited in scope, so permanent benefits were negligible compared to the temporary respite brought about by basic dopamine release. Science is still barely scratching the surface of neurotransmitters and flow state. There are still many unknowns, but dopamine isn't just a pleasure chemical that the media would like you to be believe. It can do quite a number of things. Research has shown that "flow state" can modify synaptic plasticity, improve connectors between cells/synapses, ultimately helping cells in the brain communicate better as a network and improve neural system intrinsic properties.

My summary posting was fine for a while, until predictable trolls arrived led by an "armchair game developer". Dr. Armchair definitely did not appreciate my post. It was an affront and insult to his profession. Within a few minutes, it dropped 30 karma. I don't care about imaginary internet points but I don't like being accused of lying. Dr. Armchair and his pals started with the usual "do you even lift?" Then it was quickly asserted, from their armchairs, that I knew nothing about flow, psychology, dopamine or game design at all. From their high horses, they contributed nothing useful; only taunts, defamation, attacking my character and physical appearance, and accusing me of being a liar and incompetence.

Apparently it was a very sensitive topic. Who knew?

It quickly devolved into Dr. Armchair gleefully, and repeatedly claiming, that he won, he was right, and I was wrong. He demanded that I essentially write a 300 page peer-reviewed study to prove him wrong, and when it couldn't be provided within 5 minutes, there were more gleeful cheers of "HAHA! I WAS RIGHT! I WAS RIGHT! I'M NOT LISTENING TO YOU LALALALALA.."

Obviously, it was going to be impossible to reason with Dr. Armchair and his buddies. But actions speak louder than words.

So, I claimed that I would provide undeniable proof in the form of a video game "a few months from now" that he could actually play for himself. Once again, claiming that I was lying and it was impossible. And more of the usual "It's been 5 minutes, where is it? Oh, you can't do it can you. HA! I was right! I BEAT YOU! I BEAT YOU!"

It was weird.

Eventually the mods had enough. Dr. Armchair and his cronies harassment, ad hominem attacks, accusations and inflammatory attacks resulted in multiple posts being removed. But my promise still stood and I fully intended on keeping it.

THE BOLD CLAIM

The plan was simple:

Create a proof of concept that demonstrates just the critical neuroscience principles that induce flow. To prove it beyond a doubt, I intended to also prove that MOST COMMON INGREDIENTS of a game are completely UNNECESSARY to accomplish this.

So, I made the very confident claim that the game would still be fun, addictive, and demonstrate flow state, even after ripping everything out:

No extras or frills. Built within a short period of time.

No music. No sound effects. No animations. No story.

No expensive art. In fact, hardly any at all: I would use ONE SINGLE ART ASSET for the gameplay (plus some lines.)

No feature creep. No sign-in system. No gacha mechanics.

No level design. No achievements. No RPG gamifications.

I could get at least a couple hundred people to play it.

I should have also mentioned that it would be built with ZERO BUDGET and NO MARKETING.

If this sounds like a strange way to make a game, it is. For a typical game developer, this would raise many eyebrows, and they'd consider it highly risky or improbable to achieve any success with both arms figurately tied behind your back while blindfolded.

HOW IT ENDED

While I was preparing to stress test the game online, it was discovered by .ru bots that were scouring the web for new games. Even before the game was ready, they published the game link on several Russian gaming sites.

The game exploded.

It has graphical similarities to Tetris, so it was a nice coincidence that the game essentially launched and did so well in Russia at first. After that, other game sites started discovering the game on their own too, even before I had a chance to submit the game myself. Most importantly, the proof of concept and everything I claimed worked (high ratings and retention). It proved so effective that the game is currently being played by hundreds of thousands of users worldwide. And it's a clear demonstration about the importance of combining psychology and game design.

I suppose you could say that there are many layers of revenge happening here, maybe even karmic justice or backfiring on their part, it's really hard to classify. The best kind of revenge is always massive success, and shoving it in their faces, however. But, on top of that, I also fully kept to my promises while proving these ignorant individuals so wrong they look like fools.

I also added some extra salt to the wound. I figured that success of the game was partly due to Dr. Armchair's ignorance. It was only fair that I included his name within the Game Credits. So, I officially gave this very wonderful human being a very "special thanks" for their support in making this success possible.

(source) story by (/u/postfu)

[thefamilymanseason1download]

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Family man season one of The Sopranos is one of the greatest episodes in television history. The series is known for some of the funniest, most hilarious episodes, which often include some really amazing stunts, as well as some truly great acting from some of the best actors in the industry.

In the first episode, Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) makes his move against his wife Carmela, who is the head of the Carmelite community. Tony has been a member of the Carmelite community for the better part of twenty years, but has always had an issue with Carmela's control over their family, and is so desperate to get back at her that he will do almost anything to destroy their relationship. He decides to take matters into his own hands and take out Carmelita's unborn child with a shotgun he plans to shoot it in front of a synagogue. This will help him put a final nail in his family's coffin.

The story of The Sopranos is very interesting because it's about the relationship between a man and his wife. Tony is so jealous of Carmela that he will go to any lengths to get her back, and that includes taking out her child and putting it in front of a synagogue, which is a pretty crazy thing to do for someone who was supposedly a Catholic.

The best part of the season, however, is Tony's eventual betrayal of his wife. Once he finds out that she is having an affair with a man named Gabrielle, he is forced to do something about it, and he does so by sending Gabrielle and Carmela to the prison for a time of their lives. In doing this, he allows them to experience all the life that they've been missing out on, and eventually, Tony makes the decision to free his wife from prison and marry her.

It's hard to think that a man would ever do such a thing, but after watching The Sopranos season one, I can't blame Tony for it. Of course, Carmela is not convinced, and she tries to persuade Tony to get back at Gabrielle by inviting the man to dinner with her family. Unfortunately, Gabrielle gets caught in the crossfire, and Tony realizes that he needs to put a stop to her scheme before he loses out on Carmela.

Overall, the first episode of Family man was one of the best ever on television. The acting was amazing, and the stunts were incredible. The show really captured the spirit of its era and managed to make it fun to watch.

The Family Man, the television classic of the 1970s, is getting a reboot. Starring David Hyde Pierce as Phil Hartman, the series will be created by Matt Damon and Will Smith.

Phil Hesselsenpotter was an accountant who had recently divorced his wife, Pamela (Debra Messing), and was about to start a new life with his new wife, Robin (Carrie Carpenter). But things went wrong when Robin disappeared and Phil was assigned with finding her. The first clue Phil discovered was a clue hidden in his own briefcase that led him to the wrong track and eventually to Robin.

Phil started investigating Robin's background while juggling work and household chores. Meanwhile, Pamela went off with her ex-boyfriend, Martin Blank (John Candy). As it turns out, Martin was a member of a cult whose aim was to bring about an apocalypse - in a bid to help Martin, Pamela and Martin's family survive in the event of his death. Martin was the leader of this cult.

When Phil discovers that Martin was involved in a deadly plane crash, it becomes clear that the only way to find Robin is to locate Martin's mysterious associate, Dr. William Price (Ethan Embry). In order to do this, Phil needs to make his way through a maze of conspiracies, lies and double-crosses - the very reasons why the original series was canceled.

In addition to David Hyde Pierce, the cast for the new version of The Family Man includes Matt Damon, Will Smith, and Carol Kane. This spinoff will also star John Candy in a recurring role, alongside Pam's daughter, Kimmy Gibbler.

One thing that will remain the same about the new spinoff: The Family Man will continue to tackle issues surrounding family. Phil will find himself falling in love with a woman he met at work and an ex-convict who works as a janitor. The series will also follow Phil and Kimmy's quest to obtain a college education. If you haven't seen the original series, it would definitely be worth watching.

However, one major difference from the original series to The Family Man is that Phil and Kimmy won't have a home to call their own. Instead, they will have to move into a temporary apartment before moving into a furnished condo.

Although the premise may seem like a cop-out, it actually makes a lot of sense. The Web Series takes place over six years in the future. Since time changes so much in this fast-paced world, it's more convenient for the characters to go back and forth between the present and past.

In order to get the best out of the spinoff, The Family Man, make sure to catch up on all of the season one episodes before watching the new series. It may not have the same cast as the original series, but it's still going to be worth watching. and even better than the original.

The Family Man Cast is an upcoming American drama-comedy movie directed by Brett Ratner, based on the novel of the same name by David Diamond, and produced by Saturn Films. The film was released in January 2020. The cast includes Nick Cage, Téa Leoni, John Candy, Michael Gambon, Danny Glover, Billy Crystal, and Steve Martin. The film's story concerns a father (Cage) who goes on a trip to Mexico with his family to take part in a carnival.

The cast of The Family Man Cast is very diverse. The film's producers, Brett Ratner and David Weissman were hoping for Cage, who has appeared in the films A Few Good Men and Gladiator, to be cast as the lead character, a father and husband who have gone away for several years to Mexico to visit his ailing wife. However, Nic Cage did not get the role, which went instead to actor John Candy, who had been rumored to have the most screen time, but who turned out to be somewhat absent from the story.

Nic Cage also did not appear in The Family Man Cast, although he was rumored to be in the picture anyway. The role that Cage did end up playing, however, is the father of Danny Glover's character, Tia. Glover has said that he is still unsure whether he wants to be cast as a part of The Family Man Cast, but he certainly looks like a good fit for the part. He may have a chance to play a father and grandfather-type character, but it is possible that he will be seen as an ex-cop who has taken on a new role, possibly a police officer.

In order to make his character look like a possible father figure, The Family Man Cast gave Tia a very strong background. She was a high school teacher who was also married and had three children. In her spare time she spent with her daughter, played by Tea Leoni, and her son, played by Michael Gambon. Tia is shown to be more supportive than her own mother, who disapproved of her relationship with Danny.

Nic Cage also didn't get the role of a father, but he does have some fun moments. His character is played by Robert Downey Jr., and he appears in a few scenes throughout the movie. At one point, Cage plays the role of a father trying to raise his children while the movie's real father is away, played by Billy Crystal. He has his daughter leave the house to go shop and he is left alone with his son while the two are in the mall. When the family returns home, they find him shopping for things with his dad and his daughter.

Nic Cage plays the role of a character whose father is more supportive than his own father is. This makes the character's relationship with his daughter interesting. In one scene, Cage's character and his wife are discussing how she is getting old while his father is out with his work. Cage's character says, "She's got the legs of a horse, she's a horse. Who cares?"

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[snowbellewells]

Happy Birthday Krystal!!! ~***~

{Okay, @kmomof4, I think I have dithered over this and fretted and edited as much as possible for one day. I genuinely hope that you will like this addition to my French Revolution CS AU universe! Probably because it was for you, but this isn’t going to be all of it either. I think there will be a couple more parts - if not three - though I’m not going to promise any sort of time frame for them until I have written some of the other pieces I’ve committed to this month.

Anyway, I am so lucky to have you as a fandom friend and a dedicated reader and encourager. I feel so blessed to have met you and am grateful for your support constantly. This really isn’t enough, but I hope that it will add a bit of enjoyment to your special day.  All the best to you today and always!!}

On the eve of Revolution, when it seems his whole world is falling down around him, nobleman Killian Jones is given a reason to keep fighting for his life…

Previous Installments: Part One    Part Two

Part Three

The pounding rush of hoofbeats outside the makeshift tent where she was attempting to suspend and dry the clothing she had washed in the nearby stream sent her heart into her throat as the thundering drew up outside, shaking the ground beneath her feet. Though Emma had now been living in temporary encampments with Killian and with Liam’s regiment nearly six months, under his brother’s watchuful eye and protection (despite Killian’s chafing at the overprotectiveness) she still found herself tensing at the sound of new arrivals. Would this be an angry mob? Messengers bearing horrible news? She couldn’t help it when she thought of the climate around them and the way she and Killian had fled their home with pursuers on their heels.

This time though, she did not have to worry or wonder very long, as within moments, she heard Killian’s rich, strong voice calling out her name just before he threw back the tent flap and appeared, beaming at her, in the opening. “Swan!” he greeted breathlessly, his eyes alight with joy and his crooked smile spread across his face, his dark hair ruffled by the wind and a long, hard ride. “Aren’t you the most beautiful sight to which a man could return?”

Emma’s tensed shoulders fell loosely, and she was across the tent in two seconds, throwing her arms around him tightly and clinging to him with a sob of relief.

Killian might have found purpose and fulfillment in the ensuing months since they had fled his family’s estate and life of privilege, but for Emma, his new vocation had led her into constant waiting and praying for his safery each time he rode out as a scout for Liam’s regiment, and fear that he might not return. Though not officially enlisted, he could do that - and had proved quite adept in both stealth and attention to the details necessary for giving his brother’s forces all the intel they could have on the land and who or want awaited them before they marched forward. It gave the two of them a place in the camp and let Killian feel truly useful, something he had rarely felt in the life of a sheltered aristocrat, he had confessed to her as they huddled together for warmth, both their heads sharing a single bedroll for a pillow, in the chill night air inside their tent.

More than anything, in that moment, she could only be grateful that he had returned whole and safe to her once again. Her insides were still quivering with the anxiety she always held that it might be word he had been discovered and shot down or captured out there alone. Liam, of course, instructed his younger brother to only collect what information he could gain from a reasonable distance - but she also knew Killian. The thrill of riding on the edge of danger, and his reckless lack of self-preservation, made him an excellent scout, but constantly had Emma’s stomach in knots until he rode back into the camp after each reconnaissance mission he undertook.

So much so that she had made up her mind not to bear it any longer. If her love, her best friend, the sole reason she left her home and family and the bucolic countryside she had always known, was going to be out risking life and limb for a cause he believed in, then she would be as well. Waiting helplessly for word or sight of his return would little by little drive her mad with imagining all the worst possibilities one after the next. There had to be some way that she could help him out there on the rough, dirt-packed trails. She was a decent horsewoman, could track and shoot to keep them fed, and she would be able to take down his observations, speeding the work and lessening the chance of being caught. Not to mention that she could mend his wounds if he were hurt, would know if something bad happened. They must be stronger together; she simply would not believe anything else.

Killian, however, unaware of the determination she had reached in her mind, was more involved in showing her just how much he had missed her and how glad he was to see her again. His once delicately soft fingertips, indicative of his family’s prestigious station, were now roughened by callouses from work and the elements, as they traced along the slope of her neck, then lightly brushed an escaped curl from her chignon back over her shoulder.  The sensation made her insides quiver in a wholly different manner than the worry which had shaken them before his arrival - one that was deliciously addictive. “Swan, truly, what enchantment do you use to grow even more lovely each time I return? It is not fair, ma Chérie. How can a man hope to  compare?”

She rolled her eyes lightly, his silver tongue having always been one of his many attributes capable of charming her, even if his actual words were overeffusive flattery to her way of thinking. He meant what he said, but he was more than a bit biased and pre-disposed to see her in her best light, through very rose-tinted lenses. Huffing out a light breath of air, she shook her head at his ridiculous compliment, even as his head dipped to lightly trail his lips along where her shoulder met her neck, making the air escaping hitch slightly with the tingles he sent chasing down her spine. Where she had opened her mouth to chide him for being such an incorrigible flirt, she instead only released a blissful sort of sigh, allowing her whole body to sway towards his never-failing warmth, drawn under his spell as inextricably as an unwitting fly might first enter the spider’s web.

“Mhmm...Killian…” she breathed shakily. “One might also question how you become a better and better kisser after each time we have been apart. Have you been obtaining practice elsewhere? Or are you the one making use of some enchantment?”

Her handsome gentleman raised his eyes then, to stare into her questioning green gaze with unblinking sincerity. There was nothing for her to do but believe him as he rasped devoutly in a voice hoarse with emotion. “I would never so much as think of another before you, mon amour. Please tell me you know that.”

Emma smiled back tremulously, her emotions making her a bit teary-eyed at the fervor he proclaimed. Leaning her forehead against his, just savoring their closeness once again she whispered, “Of course I know, Killian. Of course. You have never given me any cause to doubt your word or honor.” And it was true. This  man had lost much in the last half year. Nearly everything about his life and circumstances had changed, and yet there he stood, as gallant and true as ever. His heart was still as open as it had been when they played together in the flowering fields or splashed into the fountain of the front circle at his father’s chateau, despite the scolding it had earned her and the whipping it had undoubtably bought him. He was still that boy as well as the man now standing before her. The only man she had ever loved… or ever would.

“Good,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before sweeping in to capture her lips with his own, “because not a day went by when I did not think of you.”

In spite of the sturdy, practical bent to her nature, Emma swooned a bit at the admission, honestly wondering what a simple maid like her had done to earn such ardent courtship. Though Killian smelled of sweat and horse and the dust of the long miles he had crossed, she couldn’t get enough of him as she returned his kiss, opening to his questing tongue and teeth and savoring the soft scratch of the stubble that had grown on his once smoothly clean-shaven face. The overwhelming masculinity her childhood friend now bore might cause her to unravel, but as the fire rose in her blood, she felt it would be a more than worthy capitulation..

Humming with pleasure, she was just truly beginning to reciprocate and to give back as good as she got when they were interrupted by the tent flap being thrown open once more. “Killian! You’re needed back in the saddle at --” his brother’s deep, commanding voice called out, speaking with such intense urgency that he had carried on in a rush before choking off, embarrassed, and averting his eyes upon realizing that his younger brother and childhood friend were caught up in a quite passionate embrace, Killian’s hand tangled in her hair, Emma’s chest heaving undeniably and eyes glazed over, and both of them pressed so close together that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Killian’s other hand had even begun to conspicuously bunch up her skirts - a tell tale giveaway of what they had been about, even if he dropped it quickly and took a step back, flushed beneath the dark beginnings of a beard covering his cheeks. “Liam - bon sang! A little warning before you charge in, Brother!”

Liam shook his head in consternation, still looking determinedly off to the side rather than at either of them, his voice clipped with awkward chagrin as he continued speaking more calmly. “As I was saying, Little Brother, I realize that you have only just returned, but we have need of yours skills again - as soon as you can make ready.”

Frustration worked the muscle in her love’s jawline, not doing anything to ease the unsatisfied flame in Emma’s blood, but before he could protest or speak at all, she reached up to touch the side of Killian’s face with a tender, staying hand.  Looking over to Liam, she nodded dutifully. “I am sure we can make ready by nightfall.”

“We?!” both Jones men spluttered indignantly, eyes wide with disbelief.

Killian’s clearly affronted chivalry had him practically gaping at her in shock as he drew her closer. “What are you thinking, Emma?”

Meeting his gaze head-on, having known this would be cause for a fight, she answered in a voice steely with resolve. “I am thinking,” she put emphasis on the same word he had used to question her, “that waiting here imagining what might go wrong or how you might not return is torment I can bear no longer. I can help you, Killian. … And I am going with you.”

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