#it is a little annoying that the game assumes you're young

[persephoneggsy]

the dreaded age gap

[kenyummy]

✰ 05. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 05. your closed-off heart.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: avoidant attachment damian is canon to me okay. it's canon to me... </3 also pretty long chap idk how many words but it's a bunch

prev. ✰ masterlist ✰ next.

The sky has fallen to an ashen black by the time you've all settled down and watched a fun game show together; so different from the ones back home.

After those hours of catching up—you've made sure to be careful with your words and not mention anything about any alternate universes. You can't—not with that lingering stare behind you, after all.

Whether they realised your avoidance of the topic or simply didn't think to bring it up—you were glad the rest of your friends never even hinted at it once, either.

Now you were back, sitting on the couch under a low, flickering light and cuddled up beside Johnny and Franklin.

"Franklin..." Your voice is low. Said boy is cooped up to your side, snoring softly as he drools onto you. You avert your gaze toward Sue and Reed. "How's his... mutation going? It's pretty rough being so strong so young."

Johnny glowers at the sight of Franklin so attached to your left arm—even though he's just as close, if not closer to you than his nephew is. If he were sunken any farther into you, he'd practically be in your lap.

Sue sighs, pressing her palm against her face with an exasperated look. "After that whole incident with Annihilus, his power has been developing so drastically, we aren't sure on what may occur next. He's so... he is so strong. We asked the Professor about it, and his only advice was for when we believe we cannot properly help him develop, to send him to his school."

Reed slinks his hand into his wives', gripping tightly. "But I don't think it'll come to that. Franklin... is a good kid. I don't believe he will ever lost control of himself, not like the Professor is afraid he will. Regardless—he's doing fine, and that was the reason we took him with us."

The mood is sunken, a little bit quieter as you rake your nails over Frankin' scalp—gently. Such a power so young—you remember the first time you were told this young boy was creating pocket universes under his bed at three. Two years later, and he's developed the abilities comparable to that of a god.

To be so incredible is a blessing—but for a child like Franklin, it can feel like a curse often times. You would know, you think solemnly, palm falling over his cheek.

Ben sinks into the dented couch, leaning back with a knee crossed over his leg. He breaks the silence with ease and that lovely Yancy Street accent, "That, and we didn't wanna let Tony babysit again."

"Oh yeah," Johnny grimaces. "Last time he was left alone with Frankie, he made him a suit and he flew all the way to the Carribean!"

You slap a hand over your mouth, turning to Johnny and laughing, "I heard about that! Didn't you nearly get sunk by Namor and his Atlanteans?"

Johnny hisses and looks to the side—the tips of his ears alighting with a flicker. You reach up and pat out the flame, brushing his hair back as he hides his face from your view.

Judging by the smug, knowing look Sue shoots her younger brother, you assume he was pretty annoyed by your pampering.

Despite this, the mood has become lighter. You aren't worried about what may happen in the future, or what could possibly go wrong with the young child beside you.

"Don't even mention him, or any bad guy—" Johnny slumps down, head reeking back dramatically. "I'm going stir-crazy not being able to get out and fight 'em."

Ben gives him a pointed look, "brows" furrowing, "Yer sounding less stir-crazy and more batshit mental. Ya gotta get out more."

"Tell that to him!" The blonde juts his thumb towards Reed, who simply averts his eyes. "He's the one who said we can't be seen in this unknown place."

"Yeah, it's a shame, isn't it?" You cross your arms. "While you're all resting here, I have to go out and fight crime all day. Lucky me."

Johnny raises his hands in defence, "Yeah, you are lucky. I'd kill to get out and get some action. I'm tired of being cooped up in here all day like the world doesn't need me."

"Don't go getting a big head, Johnny." Sue frowns. "This world has survived fine without you. I'm sure it'll live even without you, as well."

Johnny and Sue start to bicker in the traditional sibling fashion—shooting the other glares and mocks, all the while Reed seems to be deep in thought. (And as always, Ben is simply enjoying the scene in front of him).

"Actually..." Reed speaks up—catching the attention of everybody in the room with ease. "Perhaps... it could be a good thing to go public. It would give us an easy way to collect materials we need if we could go out and use our powers freely."

"... Reed? You can't be serious—" Sue blinks in shock.

Ben slams his two rocky fists together, "Hell yeah! It's been a minute since I said my favourite line—"

"—It's clobberin' time, we know." Johnny shakes his head. Ben simply shoots the matchstick a glare.

"That aside; it'll help us make that..." Reed hums, glancing at you for a moment, "That very intricate device we'd been needing to create. The last one was created by the combined nature of me, Tony, and Hank—so making it alone may provide more difficult, but absolutely not impossible. Not much tech to work with, either... this might take a while..."

Sue places a hand on her husbands shoulder, and he seems to break out of the strange mumble he reduced his voice to. "Thank you, Susan. But yes—given we collect the right resources and I have time to work on this, we should be able to remake it."

"That's great!" You smile, grin brightening. You could go home! You could actually go home! Not sure when—but soon couldn't come soon enough. "You guys can fight alongside me, and now this! This is great news!"

"Eh ... I already told you Reed was making some of that crazy tech stuff, didn't I?" Johnny shrugs, resting his head to the side. "Besides—It's Reed. Why wouldn't be tinkering with some weird invention?"

"... Thank you for the vote of confidence, Johnny." Reed murmurs, eyes falling to the side. "If we want to make something as intricate as... that, from scratch, we'll definitely need the most brilliant minds helping."

"Ah... yeah. Too bad Tony isn't here, huh? Hank, too. They'd be a real help." You smile sadly, looking to the side.

"Actually, [name], I'd rather like you to look over some of the teleporters with me. Give your opinion on what I should do with what I have."

"R... really?" You look up at him with sparkly eyes. "You really...?"

He nods, smiling. You bite down on the insides of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning madly—instead, you opt to rushing over and wrapping your arms around his neck, jumping up and down.

"Thank you! Yeah, I'd be—" You pull back, coughing with a flushed face. "I'd be totally honoured. Yeah. Um—I promise to not get any webs on them this time!"

"I'll take your word for it," Reed chuckles. Happiness practically bursts out of your chest at the recognition from the smartest man in the world.

Perhaps you were more than you gave yourself credit for—and way more than what that family gave you credit for.

You sit back down and Franklin crawls back into your lap, snoring softly. Johnny attaches himself to your side and keeps a warm arm snug around your shoulder, smiling down at you.

The warm fuzzy feeling pools down at the bottom of your stomach and each time you laugh, you feel your heart grow fonder.

You had never felt so at home in this strange place. These four—these five—this was your family, and you'd never feel otherwise.

Damien feels a tug in his chest. More than a tug, actually—it's like a rope has tied a noose around his ribs and is rattling them repeatedly.

He's biting down so hard on his lips and the inside of your cheek that blood seeps from between chapped lips. He chews them raw—not even noticing the pain.

He hadn't even realised when he pulled his katana out from its holster on his back. He hadn't realised when he gripped it so taut his knuckles turned a milky white. He hadn't even realised when his eyes zeroed in on the sight of you cuddling up with that dark-haired boy.

Allowing him close to you—clinging to your arm so pathetically and pressing his face against your stomach as if he'd done it a hundred times over and acting like you're his older sibling or something stupid like that—

Damian steadies his erratic breathing. Unscrunching his face, but he cannot seem to stop glaring daggers. Even when he makes eye contact with that man—Reed, he believes you referred to him as—he does not tear his sharp gaze away.

You stare so tenderly at the young boy (younger than Damian is. By a few years or so, most likely). You cradle his cheek in your hand with such love it makes your actual brother, your blood brother, feel sick to his stomach.

Raking your fingers through his hair like you'd never done with your siblings before. Holding him close like you wished to protect him from the world and all the horrors within it.

How could you possibly hope to protect this... Frankie, when you cannot even protect yourself? The scarring left from the bullet still lay on your shoulder, a ghostly reminder of how you became victim to the evil this city holds.

A reminder to Damian on how he must protect you now. As his duty.

In this cruel world, you have lost to it—and yet, you choose to coddle others? You choose to keep others safe and close to your heart, but never your family?

His heart is lit aflame with rage. His jaw is taut and clenched tightly—feeling his teeth grit beneath his tongue and his mind fizzle with boiling anger. He hadn't felt this irrational in so long. Not until...

He doesn't remember ever seeing you in a such a light. He doesn't remember seeing you.

But now he does—and now, he feels so much fuming ferocity. Watching you send the softest of smiles to him and allowing him to feel your soft, untainted touch.

(A touch not tainted by years of relentless crime fighting—a silky grasp that could only be given by that kind of regularity Damian had never known).

Much earlier, he had realised you were that vigilante he met so long ago. That spider-like fiend who seemed to have those never-endingly sticky webs.

This is why you'd been skipping classes so often, and why he never saw you around. That's why he hadn't seen those pitiful eyes be directed toward his two, barely there elder brothers, after each and every violent patrol.

That is why you have become so distant. So far away—Drake had described it. Damian didn't bother to listen because he didn't care enough to.

That doesn't matter. In the end, none of it matters. Not to him. It didn't change his image of you.

He hadn't known you long enough for it to shift in any way—nor had he ever tried to. Despite this, he is content. If this new version of you is all he will ever know, then so be it. This will be his you—the sincerity in your touch and the love in your eyes.

(Yet, never seen toward him).

He has little time to ponder and brood. Before he knows it—the glass door is sliding open and, on that balcony, he is no longer alone.

You hesitate for a moment before speaking. "Damian?"

He blinks. He is not used to hearing his name from your mouth in anything but a furious tone. Yet, despite this—it is anything bur the saccharine way you told that Franklin he's your favourite—

"Damian. Why did you follow me?" You demand, voice more firm than your question-like tone before.

You stand before him, arms crossed under your chest and a hard expression on your face. Stern. Like a real older sibling. He had never seen you make that kind of face before.

(For whatever odd reason, he feels small again. Like lowering his head and apologising for something he had not even done—you've never had that sort of effect before).

... And yet, despite all he's acted like in the past; in this present moment, he doesn't know what to say to you. Very uncharacteristical.

(For that Franklin, it came so easy. Like running up to you with those stupid googly eyes was the most regular thing to him. Damian doesn't believe he will ever be able to feel as normal as that).

Fortunately, he manages to scrounge up some words to say like it was a board game. "I... happened to catch you swinging here. In that ridiculous costume and to your even more ridiculous friends."

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his words. He notices it so wholly that it strikes deep into his chest. Why are you so dissatisfied with him? Why does it make him so unfathomably upset?

"One, my costume is cool. Two, my friends aren't ridiculous. Don't talk about them like that." Your tone is upset.

All these strong emotions hit him like a freight train and suddenly he doesn't know how to speak properly. Don't look at him like that. Why are you so kind to that other child, but you are so cruel toward him? It's unfair. Absolutely unfair.

He must've been quiet longer than he realised. Clutching the bottom of his cape tight into his blood-bathed grip, practically shaking. He must look so utterly pathetic for you to offer him menial pity.

(Just like you used to—except now it feels like a wave crashing against the shore, covering the burning lava stones in a cool tide).

"So, you know, then?" You glance downward at Damian after pinching your temple. He breaks his eye contact with the concrete and looks back to you. "That I'm that spider hero."

...

"Yes. After seeing your school bag webbed up, it was far too obvious."

You glance downwards once more. To the strap wrapped around his shoulder, connected to your bag. He tries to shuffle it discreetly behind him, but he knows you've spotted it when a smile crawls onto your lips.

Gritting his teeth—yet this time he does not feel that same blaring anger as before—he decides that hiding it was useless and opts to shove it into your arms roughly, before he can even think.

"The leather is crumpled. You need a new bag," He says, matter-of-factly. You grasp onto the leather with wide eyes; gaze shifting from it to him.

"... I know. It's been like this..." You aren't exactly sure on how long, exactly—but you're sure it's been... "For a while. I'm used to it."

Damian pauses, eyes narrowed and lips turned down into a sneer. He's practically offering, and yet you still deny? You pretend everything is fine and you are strong.

...

You lean down the slightest. "... Still. Thanks for considering me."

You almost can't believe you're thanking this younger brother for the bare minimum—but from what you've seen, that bare minimum isn't seen much in your household. (Especially towards you).

Despite this... you have always had a soft spot for kids. You ruffle his dark hair and he practically squawks, slapping your hands away like it burnt.

He recoils back, hissing, "Who do you think you are?! Don't patronise me!"

You chuckle and move back, brushing off your hands. He watches that action like a hawk. "... Are you going to tell them?"

"TT. About your little side hobby playing dress up?"

You want to point out how he does the exact same thing. But you don't, because you know it will lead to nothing good.

Damian sneers, turning his head to the side, "I don't care for what you do in your spare time. As long as I do not have to be there to save you every time."

"Fair enough. This can be our little secret, then." You nod. "... You can go now. I'm just going to suit up and sneak back in."

"Is that what you have been doing for the past several weeks?"

"Guilty as charged," you shrug, pressing on the necklace pendant sitting comfortably between your collarbones. "If nobody notices, then I don't think it's that big of a deal. I mean—"

He watches in fascination as the minuscule robots crawl over your body and form into the familiar Spidey suit.

You tuck your hair in as the mask forms. "—Most of them are barely home to begin with, and it's not like Bruce has spare time to be worrying about this."

... "Don't you mean father?"

You stare at him weird. "What?"

"You called father Bruce." His eyes narrow furthur.

"Oh. Right." You must've become accustomed to not saying father. Uncle Ben was the only father you'd ever had, and it wasn't like you were going around calling him that, since you know—he was your uncle. "Yeah. That's what I meant."

Damien doesn't reply this time. He throws on the hood of his costume, turning his back toward your costumed form.

You walk back inside into the dimly-lit room, engulfing those people in warm hugs you'd never spared any of them before.

He leaps off the roof and swings away into the night, face unreadable; mind consumed with little crime and more thoughts of you.

Perhaps he was... wrong about you. Less helpless, but still just as weak. And a lot more confusing. Unfair. So much confliction.

Though, he feels his chest beat strangely warm when he tousles his hair back to its regular style.

Swinging in through the window in your room and with one click on your necklace, you land flat on your heels.

Peering around, you hum at your empty, dark room and change into a pair of pyjamas.

It's been a day or two since you'd eaten here. Usually you'd go around as Spidey and picking up some takeout as you swing back home, or go to Harry's house for some dinner (since Norman had taken a strong, un-evil liking to you in this world).

But today, you'd been too wrapped up to even think about dinner. You'd missed the familiarity of Sue's warm cooking but you hadn't even thought to ask while you were there. Damn.

It's way too late to go out and get something now. Crap. You really got ahead of yourself, didn't you?

You put on your pair of fuzzy slippers, and swing open your door. It's late, so most of them should be out on patrol.

You'll probably only run into Alfred, at best. You can live with those kinds of odds.

You walk down the stairway and towards the kitchen (it took you a bit—learning the ropes of this place was harder than it looked). Your steps sluggishly drawl across the floor as you yawn.

Being Spidey sure was tiring. Post-patrol naps were always the highlight of your week, but you could never do it on an empty stomach.

As quietly as possible, you begin to rummage around in the larger-than-life fridge. Fruit, condiments, almost all ingredients than actual food.

You groan. You hate rich people. Aunt May always used to just buy a bunch of pre-cooked meals whenever she was away—you'd become so accustomed to it.

Maybe there were leftovers? ... Do rich people even keep leftovers? You slouch down at the thought.

You open a few drawers just to find a pile of spinach of all things. Then fruity flavoured drinks. Some more vegetables. Lots of vegetables. A child's waking nightmare.

"There's a pack of pizza pockets in the third drawer in the second row."

You barely even react, hand already inching for the drawer. You open it, and find it. You hum.

Your sense acts up when you hear footsteps approaching—you glance over your shoulder to see a man you have not previously met before, but have seen.

That blob of red—that figure you saw before everything went black and when a bullet was lodged in your shoulder. It was him.

A white tuft of hair in the middle of his forehead and a jaded expression. A red helmet under his arm and a pizza pocket in the other hand.

It was undoubtedly him.

"Jason..." You try your hardest to not make it sound like a question.

His expression remains unchanged. "[name]. You... your shoulder is all healed up already."

You glance at your exposed shoulder. There is barely any visibly sign of a wound ever being there. Perks to a healing factor—well, you heal. Downsides to a healing factor—people start asking questions.

"It didn't hit me too deep... and Bruce got me the best hospital stuff, too." You put the pizza pockets on a plate then stuff it into the microwave. The beep resounds in the quiet as you lean back on the counter. "Guess I got lucky."

"Didn't feel so lucky when you were bleeding out in my arms, did you?" His eyes narrow and you think you may have said the wrong thing. "What the hell were you even doing out at that hour? What the fuck were you thinking?"

Oh, I was just dropped in from another universe and switched places with Wayne-ie here. No biggie.

Yeah, no way in any of the layers in hell. Facing Galactus head on feels like a safer task than telling him that. You shake your head, trying to formulate a proper excuse.

"I was hanging out with my friends. Lost track of time."

His eyes widen at your sheer audacity to say that—then, his brows furrow and he steps forward, "Don't give me that shit. You never go out past ten. Bruce won't let you. We drilled it into your head you'd die out there. And look—you nearly did. Don't you dare sit here and lie to me, [name], because I swear to God—"

Your jaw clenches and you have to hold your hands behind your body—pressed against hard granite—to stop yourself from pushing him back.

You hiss, low and tense, "What do you know? You'd never stay long enough to find out."

You remember flipping through that diary. The words getting scratchier and the paper getting more crumpled as you went on.

"You'd never stayed longer than a few days. You'd never even looked at me even then."

As you became older, you became hateful.

"You could see Dick. You could hate Tim. And despite everything, you could bring yourself to like him. You even tolerated Damian."

But you also became sad. Increasingly so. So miserable, trapped in that newborn skin you'd never truly seemed to break out of.

"I didn't care that you killed people. I didn't care that you never stayed for long. I didn't care that you hated Bruce."

So lost, so desperate for that touch you'd received so long ago; you never really grown up, had you?

"I didn't care that you'd never stay for him. For Dick. For any of the others."

So bitter. It's no wonder you'd never talked to them. It's no wonder—

"But damn it, Jason—"

"I really thought that you could've stayed for me."

—that he's staring at you in such horror.

None of this came from your heart. This entire speech was scripted on a piece of paper—by a version of you who felt so much pain and hate for those who abandoned you so easily.

But... looking at his expression now—you think it's something he needed to hear. Something that couldn't be left unsaid any longer. All the feelings pent up in them (in you, one could say) and the words they were to afraid to speak aloud. The words you were not afraid to say.

His lips parted, eyes wide as he doesn't reply. How can he? What could he ever, possibly say?

That he was doing this for your own good? That he never wanted you to see the man he had become? To never want to sully that image of that older brother who played tag with you when you were younger?

How does he tell you about the bullet he put through the skull of the Penguin goons with smoking guns he'd found minutes after he saw you bleeding out in a dirty alleyway? He couldn't possibly tell you about that.

How could he ever tell you that this was all for you—when you were hurting so badly?

(Hurting without him? Had you missed him all these years, so terribly? The thought brings some sort of twisted satisfaction. Sick reassurance. That, despite everything, you still loved him).

How could Jason Todd ever show you that he cares without destroying everything he was before? The answer was simple to him—he can't. He thought you knew. He thought—

...

Now, everything doesn't feel so simple. His sunken eyes search all over your face in frantic motions. Your eyes are so blank, and you don't even look to be feeling anything.

Are you tired? Of this? Of him? Just what did that bullet do to you?

The beeping of the microwave catches both of your attention before he has a chance to say something he will likely regret.

You turn your head to the side, and slip away from where he had cornered you against the granite. "Pizza pocket's done."

You glance his way, and he feels pathetic. Absolutley, spectacularly pathetic. "... Want some?"

You sit in incredibly uncomfortable silence, chewing on the food. At least it was good. Familiar.

Clearly there was a lot to discuss between the both of you. ... Jason and this other you, at least.

(Or was it you, the one who was shot? You could never truly tell).

There's so much to say, so little time. Jason could never stay, and definitely not around you. All these years—this world's you thought he hated them. Despised them.

Now, his expression feels like the complete opposite. Longing.

You shove the rest of the pizza pocket into your mouth, wiping off the stray greasy cheese off the corners of your lips.

"I meant what I said earlier." You clarify, as if he needed it. "And I don't appreciate you only getting on my ass after all this time, only when something bad happens. You don't get to do that. That's not how this works."

You gesture between the two of you and his heart feels like its been stabbed with the sharpest of knives.

Then, it twists.

You were always his favourite. The sweetest. The little kid he'd once held so dearly and near his heart. Until that heart stopped and turned into the deepest black, poisoned and compromised.

How could he ever risk poisoning you, too?

He wanted to keep you safe, and somewhere, somehow—he came to the conclusion that the only way you'd br safe is if you were away from him. Kept at a distance. Staying at arm's length.

Now, he isn't sure he was ever thinking of how safe you'd be. Not when he'd seen you, light-headed and bleeding. Not when you were practically dying in his arms and he couldn't do shit except kill those stupid fucking goons; because what is he good for if not revenge?

"I miss the old days," you say. But there's a distinct lack of emotion in your voice. As if it wasn't even you who was saying this. "But to hang onto them forever—when will we ever move on?"

...

He doesn't know. He doesn't think he can. Those are the only memories he has of you. Of himself.

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling his heart pound and stomach feeling sick. This sort of uncanny, soul-consuming feeling—it only ever happened whenever he would look at you.

Eyes blurry and vision failing him, he wants to go. To run. But at the same time, he wants to keep you close. Make sure nothing will ever happen again. Make sure you never feel that pain again.

His head is going to split. He doesn't know what to do.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His hands sink into his hair, and his jaw is clenched impossibly tight.

"I just..." His voice is quieter than he wanted it to be. Shakier. Almost timid. He feels like a boy again. That same child you'd stare at so reverently. He doesn't know when he was beginning to forget that. "I just wanted to keep you safe. That's all I ever wanted."

You're almost tired of this. Pissed off. Is that all they say? Is that really all they say to tell you why they'd kept you so far away? The distance was all-consuming. You'd noticed it in the first week you lived here. You couldn't even begin to imagine that kind of "love" all your life.

"Then, you were doing it all wrong." You say, simply. It sounds like you know. Like you have experience. Like a wise old wizard who'd "seen it all before". "I'm not incapable (truly, you are not) and my life is my own. Keeping me safe isn't trying to keep everything the same, like it is as it was."

He lifts his head from his hands when your chair pushes behind you, screeching across wooden boards.

"I'm sorry you had to find me like that. But... you don't get it. You don't know..." You swallow. "You don't know enough about me now to judge whether I need protecting or not. You never did."

... You're right. He never did. He still doesn't. Jason never watched you grow up. He never got the chance to see you go through your awkward teen years. Get your first boyfriend. Scare the shit out of him. He didn't get to hang out with you and get ice-cream after school.

He never got the chance to do anything of these things. Not with you. Never with the one most dear to him, and his small, dark heart.

But that could change. Starting now, he could change. He would. He could. He will. For you.

He stares, eyes blankening. Then, they fill with something dark. A nervous shiver runs down your spine and your sense starts tingling in the back of your mind.

He speaks, low and steady. The shakiness is gone and you're not sure what went on in his head—but he sounds so sure now. So certain.

"Then, I will."

It's not a threat or a claim—but a withheld promise. The heaviness of it weighs down on you, and you aren't sure whether you should feel safe or scared.

He gets out of his chair and walks over to you. Unconsciously, you hold your breath, blood running cold as he stalks closer. That huge imposing frame that (probably) used to hold some semblance of comfort toward you; now terrified you to the bone.

His big hand rests atop your head, and ruffles your hair. "Starting now, I'll get to know you again. Then, everything can go back to normal."

... Did he even listen to a word you said?

He sends you a smile as he leaves the top of your head a tangled mess, slipping on his helmet and walking away.

You're left alone, heart pumping wildly in your chest and your brain throbbing with that buzz. Every sense and nerve on full alert—you sink down into that chair and pull your knees to your chest.

You think you may have bitten off a bit more than you can chew.

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[wileys-russo]

Leah williamson, changing rooms, 'you kissed me!"

kissing you II l.williamson

when you first met leah, frankly, the two of you hardly saw eye to eye.

you were still young, hotheaded and easily baited. leah was cocky, confident and held the reel that hooked you in with ease. at first the two of you clashed heads at academy level, fighting for the same position and starting lineup, desperate to prove yourselves and get any minutes you could.

you were called up to the senior team and offered a professional contract first, something that ate at leah far more than she ever cared to admit but you saw and soaked up every second of.

but after spending half a season riding the bench you were just as infuriated when leah was quick to join you, taking the one up as she quickly cemented herself as a reliable super sub, and you were stuck wrapped in a hoodie on the sidelines with a signature fake smile plastered on your face.

you avoided leah more after that, learned to hold your tongue and rise above the sharp quips she'd shoot your way, letting them fall on deaf ears and pretending as if she wasn't even there, your full focus on your football.

but the more you were determined to block her out, the harder leah tried to worm her way back in, and if you were any more wiser you might have sensed there was a little more to the back and forth blows exchanged between the pair of you than first met the eye.

of course all you could think was that leah was just doing it to throw you off, determined to keep her starting position she'd earned over the last two seasons you'd both been playing in the senior team, you now the reliable super sub.

to the naked eye it just seemed like a rivalry, the pair of you often separated by teammates when arguments would flare up, generally after leah had spent an entire day poking and prodding at you until inevitably you snapped.

after a stern warning from the head defensive coach that the pair of you needed to sort your issues or both be benched, you once again withdrew from the back and forth completely, only acknowledging leah in a professional context.

which seemed, without you even trying, to annoy the mouthy blonde even more than when you engaged in her little games.

"oi." you exhaled slowly, refusing to look up from the paperwork you were scanning, laid down on a physio bench awaiting for your ankle to be strapped, leah unfortunately right beside you getting a knot in her shoulder dealt with.

"are you deaf?" you exhaled again as this time a pistachio hit you in the forehead, looking up to meet leahs grin as she tossed one up and caught it in her mouth, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

"they can teach monkeys to do that." you grumbled with a roll of your eyes, contemplating if you really needed your ankle strapped this badly before training.

"are you busy tonight?" leah questioned, a huff leaving your mouth as another pistachio bounced off the papers in your hand. "why?" you shot back at her with a raised eyebrow. "lets get dinner." leah announced suddenly as you looked at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"and why would we do that?" "because i just asked you to." "and why would i say yes?" "because i just asked you to.

"you're so annoying." you grumbled, sighing in relief when the physio returned, tape in hand, sitting down beside you and providing a much needed distraction as thankfully leah made no move to continue the conversation.

you of course assumed it had all been some long winded attempt to mess with you, you agree to go to dinner with her and she doesn't show up, pretends she never asked you and you wonder if you're going insane.

but leah was persistent, that you had to give her, and for the next week she continued to ask, and ask, and ask, and ask. until one afternoon, you snapped.

"jesus christ if i say yes will you leave me the fuck alone williamson?" you hissed, leah sat next to your locker and asking for the tenth time just this afternoon alone if you'd go to dinner with her tonight.

"yes. we could go to the flying fish and i can-" but you didn't even let her finish as you scoffed.

"oh no no no, i am not giving you any chance to stand me up or mess with me williamson. i'll pick you up at six, better be ready to go." and with that you strode off away, making a mental note to message alex to actually get leahs address, far too proud to turn back around.

~

you'd tried to keep track of how many drinks you had, but with the exceptionally strange circumstance of leah seemingly being nice to you, it was far too uncomfortable for you to take on sober.

luckily enough also perturbed by these new and weird situation leah seemed to be matching you drink for drink, every time you'd finish one another would appear in both of your hands as if by magic, and you lost count after four which was poor math even for you.

with dinner long done, the bartender gently cutting the pair of you off and neither of you in any state to drive home you knew it was time to call it a night.

"i'll get a taxi or something." leah offered, pulling her phone out and squinting at it upside down making your eyes roll. "no i will." you argued, rummaging around in your bag for your own phone.

"nah i will. relax!" you stumbled a little as leah shoved you, the pair of you stood on the street outside the restaurant, your car left behind in the lot. "you relax!" you pushed her back as annoyingly the blonde barely moved.

"don't push me!" "you pushed me first!" "i'm ordering us an uber. "no i will!"

"jesus christ leah! do you have to constantly argue with me about everything? do you get off on pissing people off? you are so unbelievably-" but you were cut off as suddenly a pair of lips were pressed against yours.

"oh fuck i'm so sorry i shouldn't have-" but as regret flooded leah and she quickly fired off an apology, she was also cut off as this time your mouth met with hers.

but once again as if suddenly realizing who you were kissing you sprang away from one another as if burned, a tense silence falling as all that filled the cool night air was the sound of traffic on the main road a few streets over.

"you kissed me." you managed to get out, breaking the silence like a whip as leah scoffed. "you kissed me!" leah was quick to fire back. "well you kissed me first!" you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest, another tense silence falling as you stared one another down.

"alright fine. i kissed you." "i kissed you back."

"well. should we do it again?"

[riddlesbunny]

watermelon sugar

summary: Family brunches are boring, Aegon makes them more fun.

pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, incest in a modern setting (whoops), fingering, p in v sex, semi-public sex 18+ MDNI

note: This is a repost …. Feedback is appreciated!

The warm sun illuminated your skin as you reluctantly made your way over to your seat for brunch. Viserys had planned it — his own feeble attempt to bring your fractured family together, even if it was only for a brief moment. For the most part, it worked. Everyone tried to behave themselves, though gatherings like this usually ended in a confrontation of some sort.

Before you even arrived at your seat, you felt a hand wrap around your waist, tugging at the hem of your sundress.

"Whew! Who are you all dressed up for?"

Aegon asked as you batted his hand away, shooting him a look of disapproval.

There was an unspoken thing between the two of you, everybody knew it. However, you didn't need him pawing at your waist in front of the entire family.

"Charming as ever I see."

He flashed a grin at you in response; that boyish smile of his made you weak in the knees.

"Here," he handed you the mimosa that was in his hand, "you're going to need it," he whispered before making his way back to his own seat.

You kept your eye locked on him as he retreated to his designated spot. Noting that Aemond was muttering something to him as he sat down.

"What?" he retorted, "I can't say hi to our niece?" Turns out, Aemond wasn't the only one annoyed with Aegon's show of affection.

"You'd think he would know better than to encourage you to drink at this hour," your brother admonished you, nodding his head toward Aegon in annoyance.

"It's brunch, Jace," you say before taking a large sip of the mimosa, "live a little."

"Right. Because Aegon needs an excuse to drink at noon."

"Please," you pleaded, "don't start."

"I'm not," he huffed, before shoveling a forkful of eggs in his mouth, "I'm just saying."

Thankfully your brother's comments ended there and so far everything was going well. Lucerys was sat next to Daeron — as far away from Aemond as possible, which was key to any family event running smoothly. The two young boys were talking loudly about a video game. Your mother and Alicent were giggling amongst themselves, talking so low you couldn't decipher what they were saying. Aemond sat stoically in his seat, occasionally stealing a glance at Helaena, who was tapping aimlessly at her phone, playing some sort of trivia game that you could only assume had something to do with bugs.

Every so often Aemond would glare at you, and then at Aegon who was now three mimosas deep.

If you could make it through brunch peacefully, you would find yourself back at the keep with your family later that evening. And if you played your cards right, you'd get your claws into Aegon.

It didn't take long for you to figure out that family gatherings such as these served to be rather boring when there was no fighting involved.

Staring down at the plate of fruit in front of you, an idea popped into your head. Maybe you could make your own fun.

You plucked a piece of watermelon from the plate and took a small bite, allowing the juice to run down your chin onto your chest. Rubbing your thumb along your bottom lip, swirling the juice in a fake attempt to clean yourself up. Innocently glancing over at Aegon through your lashes. His eyes were fixated on your breasts, flicking them up to make direct eye contact as you began to suck on the fruit. His lips parted in anticipation as he watched you.

But, Aegon wasn't the only one watching, Aemond's eye was also locked on you. He was hard to read, but he looked disappointed by your actions. Feeling heated and a bit flustered you decide to go freshen yourself up.

"If you would excuse me, I’m going to go to the restroom," you announced to the table before making a beeline to the other side of the restaurant.

As you went to shut the door behind you, a hand shot through and Aegon made his way into the small space with you.

"What are you doing?!" You hiss.

"What am I doing?! What are you doing?" He spun you around and wrapped his arms around you tightly, pressing his bulge against your backside.

"What are you doing? Huh?" He repeated as he inhaled the sweet scent of your hair. A mixture of apple from your shampoo, and vanilla from your perfume.

"Gods, you're going to be the death of me," he groaned in your ear.

"This dress," he rasped, releasing his grasp on you to tug at the hem of it, "that little show you put on out there." His large hand came down and smacked your ass harshly, causing you to yelp.

Aegon wasted no time and lifted you up onto the marble counter with quickness, kissing you deeply.

Against your will, a moan escaped your lips.

Aegon took this as an okay to continue. Snaking his tongue into your mouth, pushing your legs apart so he could settle in between them.

He tasted so good — remnants of orange juice, champagne and a subtle hint of tobacco filled your senses. His hands dug into your thighs with such force, you were sure his rings were going to leave marks, but you didn't care. He nipped at your your neck and kissed down your chest, licking the sticky remnants of the watermelon juice from the valley of your breasts.

Once he made his way further down, he began to began to take his time. Lifting your dress slowly, the pads of his fingers ghosting your thighs. The anticipation was killing you.

"Mmm, Aeg. Please," you whined.

He chuckled at you and lifted your dress up, bunching it around your hips to reveal your underwear. He took a minute to admire the damp spot that was forming in the center, and you felt a slight blush form across your cheeks. His thick fingers finally made contact with your pussy, rubbing them against the thin, lacy, material of your panties. He looped his fingers through the sides and quickly ripped them down your legs, exposing you to the cool air. He took no time to slide his fingers through your folds, gathering your slick.

"Oh look at you," he purred appreciatively, "so naughty, baby."

A loud moan erupted from your chest as he used his index finger to slowly trace around the opening of your cunt, each swipe had you silently begging he would slip it inside.

That devilish grin of his flashed across his face once more as he looked up at you.

"Don't get desperate on me now. l've barely even touched you. Gotta keep quiet, huh baby?"

A simple nod in response was all you were able to give him.

"Good girl" he drawled as he pushed his finger into you.

"Fuck, Aeg. Feels s'good," you whispered.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he began to move his hand faster, adding a second finger in. The pleasure was so overwhelming you forgot where you were. In a cramped, unisex bathroom, with your entire family seated at a table not too far away from the door.

All you cared about was that you wanted more, no, needed more. You squirmed against him, trying to get his fingers deeper into you.

He took the hint and obliged. Pressing them harder into you, pumping in and out with vigor.

He used the calloused pad of his thumb to push violently against your clit. He reached the spongy spot within your walls and pressed firmly into it, his free hand pushing down on your stomach as he continued to thrust his fingers. Occasionally scissoring them, stretching you out even more. It soon became too much for you. You felt your stomach drop and your walls tighten as your cunt squeezed around his digits.

"Thereee she is," he sing-songed. That's it, good girl."

He continued to fuck you with his fingers through your orgasm. Your ears rang, your vision blurred and white-hot electricity pumped through your veins. When he finally removed his fingers from your pussy he brought them up to your mouth, watching with bright eyes as you sucked your release off them, pushing them down your throat causing you to gag a little.

Releasing his fingers from your mouth you shimmied off the bathroom counter, fumbling to unbuckle Aegon's pants.

"Uh uh, baby. We will have time for me later. We have brunch to get back to.

As eager to please you as he was, Aegon was not one to usually turn down his own pleasure. You were unsure if he was being serious, or if he just wanted to hear you beg for it.

"Aeg, please."

He didn't need anymore convincing.

"Put your hands on the counter," he demanded as he spun you around. Unbuckling his belt, sliding his jeans and boxers down his legs with quickness; allowing his already hard cock to spring free and slap against his stomach. Lifting your leg before shoving himself between your folds. You groaned and tried to push yourself closer to him. He let out a laugh and smacked your ass, causing you to jolt forward.

"Be still," he growled.

You nodded your head eagerly, the palms of your hands resting against the cold marble. He filled you to the hilt with one single thrust, spearing you open.

As he began to move in and out of you, his hands tugged at your hips. "Oh, fuck!" you mewled loudly before his palm slapped over your mouth to keep you quiet.

He leaned over you, panting with his breath hot on your ear.

"What would Jace think," he whispered, venom in in his voice, "knowing that his precious little sister is a whore for my cock, huh?" You bit down your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to cum for a second time from his lewd words.

"Or Aemond?" he taunted, "our prim and perfect niece bent over for me like a dirty little slut."

Agon bit down hard on your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin, causing you to moan and arch your back, meeting his thrusts. He makes direct eye contact with you in the mirror as he continued to pound into you.

"Oh, you like that, huh? You like being my dirty little slut?" You nodded your head feverently, the walls of your cunt contracting, sucking him in.

"You gonna cum again for me baby? Gonna make a mess on my cock?"

"Fuck, yes. I'm gonna cum! Aegon, please, please make me cum."

Your nails dug into the counter as he fucked into you, the head of his cock pressed against your sweet spot with precision. He reached up, grabbing your breast, pinching your nipple roughly, pushing you over the edge one final time.

Your second orgasm washed over you with such intensity, it was almost painful. Your cunt squeezed around Aegon's cock, threatening to pull his own release from him.

"Shhh, that's it, there you go," he cooed. With a few more harsh thrusts against your cervix, his cock twitched inside you, pearly ropes of him coating your walls.

You could feel his heart beating through his chest, as his breathing slowed down. He kissed your neck and nuzzled his head inyour hair before quickly pulling out of you, immediately pulling his pants back up.

"Holy fuck," you breathed as he handed you back your underwear.

Whatever train of thought you had was interrupted by a knock.

"We're leaving! And you guys are assholes!”

Aemond's voice called from the other side of the door.

The two of you burst out laughing before making your way out of the bathroom.

[williceunleashed]

Can I just say I really like the idea that Grey is practically adopted by N and Dar for a tiny bit in your interpretation of the game’s events? Especially it being right after the Ferris Wheel scene? I feel it adds a lot of depth to everyone’s character to have it be revealed they’re on opposing sides yet still decide to travel together and have N and Dar look after this kid even if it’s very brief, I just like it a lot :D

Aaaah thank you so much !!! :))

I don't exactly know how much time the whole journey to gather the badges take, but I reckon it would be around a year ? So I'd assume that the journey from Nimbasa City to the outside of Chargestone Cave would take up around 2 months maybe ? (Maybe one of them even gets to celebrate their birthday during this specific time of the journey ???)

I find it this specific part of the story heartwarming :) Gray being young and carefree kind of helps both N and Dardanne to enjoy their journey in a new light. They now have to deal with that little ball of energy, and they quickly feel protective over him. Like yes Gray is incredibly annoying, he begs to brush their hair, he keeps poking them saying "tag you're it" hoping they will run after him, he stops to analyze every single pokémon with his pokédex, he sleeps in their hotel bed or in their tent because he is still scared of the dark, and the worst part, he thinks Plasma is wrong (the horror !)

But... They kind of learn to appreciate the kid. In the end, they allow him to brush their hair. Sometimes they do run after him when he pokes them and says "tag you're it". They wait for him when he analyzes pokémons with his pokédex. They begrudgingly allow him to sleep in-between them when he gets scared at night. And maybe, just maybe, trainers like Gray aren't that bad, and maybe, just maybe, they do love pokémons.

N and Dardanne witness every day how much this little trainer from the outside world loves his pokémons, and how much his pokémons love him back. And maybe they start to realize that humans aren't inherently bad, and that trainers aren't inherently abusive.

In the end, up there at Dragonspiral Tower, maybe N asked Gray to go and find Reshiram, not because he wanted their ideals to literally fight, but because he wanted Gray to defeat him. Maybe N suspected that Gray would inevitably come to fight him, and that if Gray lost, Ghetsis would get rid of the kid.

Maybe N lost on purpose. Maybe he saved Gray and himself by doing that.

Anyway have a quick sketch of Gray sleeping safely between his two adoptive dads (They are experimenting the struggles of having a kid)

[nameless-jamie]

You're quickly becoming my favorite blogger, lol. Thanks for the extra Jamie x fem!pastor! I get it's sometimes hard to write things you love when they aren't as well received as you'd like them to be so I really appreciate it!

I want to just quickly comment on this! I'm so happy with all the feedback and positive reactions I'm getting. I've been a long-time Tumblr user and I've always liked to write, but was never brave enough to post anything. Now that I'm older (lol sounds like I'm 50, but I'm actually 23) I just really enjoy sharing what I love to do with other people.

Funny enough I'm actually an avid fan fiction reader and love, love, love reading Jamie Tartt ff on Tumblr and I was annoyed that there where so little ff of him on Tumblr, so I just wrote some myself.

Would never gatekeep them lol.

But Anon, back to your message. I freaking love that you like to read my stories! It's totally understandable that not everyone is gonna like what i like, but I'll definitely keep writing regardless, as long as I'm having fun and you, dear Anon like my fics!

Thank you for the support!!!! AHHHH I LOVE YOU ALL!

Ok anyway, I wrote something short, this one is for you Anon!:

Sunday Service Date

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! pastor reader

Please read Saints and Sinners first, to understand this!

Jamie wasn’t supposed to be here.

At least, that’s what Y/N thought when she turned around in the church pew and saw him standing at the entrance, looking completely lost. She barely had a second to register his presence before someone behind her whispered, "Is that Jamie Tartt?"

Oh no.

Jamie, for his part, was scanning the congregation with his usual cocky confidence, though it was clearly a cover for how out of place he felt. He was decked out in some designer fit—Gucci loafers, a ridiculously well-fitted blazer, and a gold chain that gleamed under the soft church lighting. He looked like he was about to sit front row at a fashion show, not settle in for Sunday service.

She groaned internally as he finally spotted her and made his way over, sliding into the empty seat beside her. The woman to her right, Mrs. Henderson, a longtime member of the congregation, raised an eyebrow. "Y/N, dear, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone."

Y/N felt the immediate need to correct that assumption. "I’m not. He’s—he’s just—Jamie, what are you doing here?"

Jamie leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "You invited me."

"I did not."

"You said I should come back sometime when it’s not just for confession."

Y/N closed her eyes for a second, suppressing the urge to groan out loud. That was not an invitation. That was just… encouragement. Encouragement that he had wildly misinterpreted.

Before she could clarify, the service began, and she was forced to let it go. Jamie, despite his usual fidgety, easily-distracted self, actually stayed quiet, listening intently to the sermon. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he frowned in thought, nodding slightly as if considering the priest’s words like it was a game tactic he needed to memorize.

By the time the service ended, a few people had already come up to greet them, most of them assuming they’d come together. Jamie, being Jamie, did nothing to dispel the rumors, answering every friendly inquiry with a charming smile and vague responses that did absolutely nothing to clarify the situation.

Y/N had to step in. "He’s not my boyfriend. He just showed up. On his own. Without telling me. Total surprise."

Jamie smirked. "Sounds like somethin’ a boyfriend would do, doesn’t it?"

She glared at him, but Mrs. Henderson simply patted his arm, looking delighted. "Well, it’s lovely to see young people taking an interest in faith."

Jamie beamed at her. "Yeah, I’m tryna be a better person and all that."

Once they were finally outside, Y/N turned to him with her arms crossed. "Alright. What was that about?"

Jamie shrugged, hands stuffed into his pockets. "Dunno. Just figured it was a good excuse to see ya."

Her resolve wavered for a second. Jamie, despite all his dramatics and his inability to follow simple social cues, was at least honest. She sighed. "Jamie, you don’t have to come to church just to talk to me. I’ll give you my number and we’ll talk outside of church."

At that Jamie beamed from ear to ear. The beautiful pastor giving him her number and all he had to do was show up? He really was blessed.

"Damn this service was long, but it was worth it. I got to spend some time with you and now I have your number…" he shot back. "And besides, I actually liked the sermon. Priest bloke was talkin’ about second chances and redemption and that. Felt… I dunno. Like maybe it’s somethin’ I should think about. Maybe I’ll visit more often."

Y/N blinked. So he wasn’t just here for her. He was actually listening, he was learning. And, somehow, that made her see him differently—just a little bit. He wasn’t just here to be a flirt or a nuisance. Maybe, just maybe, he was really trying. And it is a lovely feeling that he wants to spend time with her…

She exhaled and shook her head with a small smile. "Alright, fine. Just… maybe next time, dress down a little? You look like you’re about to take communion from the Pope himself."

Jamie grinned. "Nah, if I’m meetin’ the Pope, I’m wearin’ a proper suit."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. He was ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe, he was serious about this whole self-improvement thing after all.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi, I hope this isn't too heavy for an anon ask, but I truly don't know where else to ask this

when i saw your thread about child sex ed, I just wondered... did i accidentally assault my brother???

so for some context I was raped/CSA'd sometime before the age of 11 and it's fucked up my perception of what's considered appropriate. when we were little, my brother who is very close in age to me and I used to have a game of "going to the doctor" where we would go in the bathroom and just look at each other's bodies (in a nonsexual way, normal behavior for curious kids). the part that gets me is that I remember trying to get him to stick his fingers in my holes -- to his credit he always refused and I never physically forced him to do anything, but in retrospect the thought just makes me ill

and before you ask, yes, our sex ed as children was very spotty and pretty much ended at how babies are made

hi anon,

this is a heavy one, and I'm sorry you've been feeling gross about this.

for what it's worth, I don't think anything you're describing is inappropriate or particularly unusual. as you said, it's very normal for young children to examine each other's bodies. this is a very developmentally normal curiosity to have, especially between children who have noticed that their body parts look different. that can include exploring bodily cavities, and there's nothing inherently harmful or abusive about that. some years ago Lena Dunham got BLASTED as a child abuser for talking about looking at her baby sibling's vulva in her memoir, and that made me incredibly mad. Lena Dunham wasn't molesting her sibling; she was a curious child and people using completely ordinary childhood activities to call her a pedophile just because she's annoying fucking sucks.

listen. caveat: not all instances of children taking an interest in each other's bodies is harmless. molestation can very much occur between siblings, and cause lasting trauma. okay? that's a real thing. your fears are not baseless.

but it sounds like you and your brother were both engaging in consensual play and you didn't force the issue when he didn't want to digitally penetrate you. unless you feel like dredging the issue up with your brother, or he wants to bring it up and/or is exhibiting any signs of lasting sexual trauma, I think you are probably safe to assume that you didn't do any lasting harm.

it's understandable to have the ick about it now as an adult, with greater context. and it's very normal to be cautious and worried that you may have hurt your brother unintentionally. but please try not to be too hard on yourself about this. you were a kid doing things kids do. your intentions were not malicious, and being a kid unknowingly doing something that *might* hurt someone is not the same as being an abuser.

[silent-raven13]

A Cute little Poodle named Morales 1

(AN: This is for my friend @heiibo a Christmas gift! Happy New Year ya'll!)

On Earth 42

"This is so bad! So-so bad!" Miles dodges a laser aimed at him being surprised by the rookie anomaly aiming at him and only him. "Why he's aiming it at me?"

"Morales focus! You can't let him get to you!" Miguel said over the earbuds.

Gwen and Pavitr were swinging towards the large massive laser weapon made to destroy the moon in this universe.

"Dude, this guy is crazy! Haven't he seen Moon Fall?" Ben shouted out loud as he uses his webs to hit the villain's goons.

Hobie came flying with a hard swing with his electric guitar as he hits a few of the enemy's gang members. "Oy, you good Peter Pan?"

"Hahaha, you act like this isn't my first time-" Miles got hit by a large metal bar, "Ugh!"

"Miles?" Gwen shouted for him.

Hobie asked, "You good?"

"Shut up, man!" Miles quickly got up with a simple toss of the metal bar, it weights nothing to him. "That was a practice run."

Hobie burst out laughing, loving his friend's enthusiasm. "Sunflower, remember it's all in the palms."

"Pfft, and you should remember it's all in your knees." Miles rans passed him and jump in the air, he launched his special electric powers to surf through midair.

"Huh! OW!" The punker got kicked in the shin losing his balance. With an angry growl, he swung hard at the enemy's henchmen. "That doesn't count!"

"Pero flaco, querías seguir la pista." Miles chuckles as he went after the main anomaly.

"Focus, you two. This is not a game! The fate of this Universe depends on us!" Miguel shouted as he fought with the larger henchmen that were experimented on to be big monsters.

"MWAHAHAHA! Soon, I will get you and your stupid Spider friends and the world will be mine." The nerdy villain shouted with loud laughter, he twist the knobs of his laser gun, "This time I won't miss." He aims at Miles while trying to get away from him.

Miles quickly dodges every laser blast while following the villain from the main warehouse. The young villain lead Miles to an abandoned projects, away from the other Spider-men.

"Miles don't go too far. He must stay within our route!" Miguel said through the earbud.

"I got him! Don't worry he's right where I need him!" Miles decided he'll use his webs to tangle the anomaly.

"Oi, Brooklyn don't go too far. The bloke would trap you if you don't watch out." Hobie said through their earbuds.

Miles rolled his eyes at the punker, lately Hobie been babying him trying to give him guidance. It's a bit annoying to say the least. His friend keeps touching him like his hand on his waist or sometimes hand resting on his lower back. Sometimes he's super clingy to the point his best friend, Ganke would ask if they were in a relationship.

It would be wrong of him to assume since he's secretly bisexual and he knows the punker is always touchy friendly with everyone he's friends with. He hugs Gwen and Pavitr all the time, he likes to playful flirt with everyone and he's always snuggling with his own best friends. It's something Hobie always did around anyone he's close to, so it would be wrong for Miles to think that the punker find him attractive.

"I got this, Hobie! I've done this plenty of times." Miles sounded very annoyed, the palms of his hands started to consume electricity being ready for his next move.

"Whoa, easy Peter Pan. I'm only givin' you a bit of a tip." Hobie senses his friend's tone.

"You don't need to snap at him, Mi!" Gwen noticed her friend's attitude against Hobie.

Miles said, "I didn't snap. I know what I'm doing."

"Actually, you kinda of did, my dude." Pavitr added.

"What? How?" Miles arched his eyebrows being confused.

"You sound like you're mad at me. I'm only give you advice, Brooklyn." Hobie mumbles.

"Well, I appreciate the uhh- shit," Miles couldn't focus on their conversation when he's focusing on the anomaly. "I'm busy at the moment, we'll talk about this when I'm done." He rolled his eyes trying to focus on the mission but his friends wanted to bring this up.

"To be fair, Miles... you been mean to Hobie lately." Pavitr finally admit.

"Yeah, dude. Is something wrong?" Gwen asked. Miles had a feeling his old crush had a massive crush on the punker. From what he can tell, it seems like she still likes Hobie. So now, here she goes trying to protect him.

"Oi, did I upset you or sumthin'?" Hobie finally asked as he wack his electric guitar at another henchmen.

"Guys, can- Ugh, I don't have time for this." He rolled his eyes as he mute himself from the conversation. Was he being mean to the punker lately? If anything, Miles only conclude he's only snappy from all the missions, homework, and dealing with his family. Then he has to maintain his own social life as Miles Morales at his school.

There's so much going on for him. Maybe he was upset at the punker because his life seems so much easier than his. Not to mention how well liked he is. Miles could be a little jealous, but he would never admit that.

"Hey, you freak! Pay attention to me instead of your stupid Spider friends!" The young anomaly shouted being a little brat.

"Geez, we get it, man. You wanna rule the world." Miles sighs being exhausted, he swings toward the villain.

Right in the moment, the anomaly lift his the laser gun at Miles, the Spider-man in black and red quickly uses his electric powers with the palm of his hand to struck the villain's abdominal area. "AHHHH! YOU CHEATER!" The rookie anomaly shoot his laser gun at Miles.

There was a loud explosion on top of the abandoned building causing all the Spider-men to look over from the abandoned warehouse. "Miles!" Gwen shouted as the team quickly finished up tying up the henchmen and rush over to the building.

The massive smoke slowly cleared out. "Ughh, what happened?" Miles slowly his eyes feeling a massive headache, "Ughh, my head. Where am I?" He felt small little body slowly moves on all fours, "Huh? What?" He saw everything being four times bigger than him, then he looks down seeing brown curly fur covering two tiny paws.

He tries to gasp in shock, instead the sound of barking came out of his mouth. "BARK! BARK!" What?

"Hey wake up!" He barks out loud. He quickly went over to the knocked out villain seeing the shiny metal showing his reflection. "WHAT!" A loud shrill bark came out of him, his large Honey brown eyes widen.

He's a little fluffy cloud fur ball of a brown poodle, he jumps with his four little legs in shock. "Oh shitshitshit! I'm a dog! Somebody help! Help!" The little brown dog barks in cute little yelps like one of those puppy toys. His tiny body would hop every bark.

"Oh no, I need my watch. Where is it?" He panics realizing his Gizmo is missing from his paws, he quickly rushes back to where he was knocked out. "My watch!" He found it seeing how it's a bit big for his paw.

His furry brown paw placed the middle of his bracelet of his Gizmo, saw it automatically matching to him. "Oh, it fits! Thank god for Lyla being so damn smart!" He prance around at his mini watch on him, he didn't need to worry about glitching out.

Then a large shadow looming over him, "Hmm?" The small brown dog looks up in fear for the moment seeing the large figure floating up on a hoverboard.

"What's dis?" The large slim figure dressing in a Cyber punk style with long dreads filled with golden and silver cuffs and some bright purple beads. His voice dark and deep that sends chills down Miles' little body.

He remove his metal Prowler helmet with a push of a button. His faced revealing a slimmer very chisel Hobie Brown with Heterochromia eyes; left eye bright Purple and the right eye dark brown almost black. "What do we have here?" His hoverboard disappeared as he landed on the building roof, his heavy boot thudding sounding very heavy.

Miles' ears twitched at the heavy thuds with metal accessories clinging and jingling against each other. He met this Hobie through Miles 42, supposedly the Cyber-punk was known to be a Copycat Prowler so he can get away with stealing. The punker is a well known in the underground criminal groups being highly respected with his works and an excellent inventor.

"Hahaha," He went over to the knock out villain, "Hmm, looks like he's been taking care of." Hobs, which Miles likes to call him, pulls out a Spider Society net to capture the anomaly. Then his metal claws tap on his own Gizmo to send out to Miles 42, "Hey," His rasp deep voice sends another tingle through Miles, "I found'em. Looks like yur twin knock his ass out, but he ain't around, cuz."

This Hobie Brown had more of Brooklyn accent to him. Miles sat down with his head tilted being amazed by the differences of Hobie 42 and Hobie 138. The little poodle staring at Hobs talking to Miles 42.

"He's not my twin! We're variants!" Miles 42 said as a matter of fact, "Anyway, I told his team about it. Send me the coordinates and let him know to get back to Spider Society."

"He's not here," Hobs stood looking dark and alluring with his physique making him look like a model. Miles is practically drooling at how hot Hobs is looking from his angel, his eyes fixated at his tight black tank top showing off his well toned body, those visible abs with tattoos all over got him hot and bother.

Goddamn, he's so hot.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S NOT THERE! Ugh, whatever. I guess he went home. I'll let his friends know." Miles 42 hung up with a bored toned.

Hobs let out an amusing chuckle, then he turns his head over to the little dog. "Now, the question is... what are you doing here, little one?" He picked up the brown puff ball being so gently with his metal claws.

Miles shivers for the moment then he barks, "Help! Help! I turned into a dog!" His little puffy tail wags in panic, his cute puppy face and big eyes got Hobs thinking.

"Cute..." Hobs' eyes gleams at the adorable dog, then noticed the watch, and said, "What's dis?" His metal claw tap on the watch of the paw.

"Arf! Arf!" The dog quickly bite the metal claw in defense. "Don't break it!" Miles being protective of his Gizmo, this is life or death here!

Hobs arched his eyebrow, "Alright. Alright, I won't touch it." He pets the dog's small head, "I'll take you back to my pad." He jumps making his hoverboard appeared below his feet, hovering in mid-air.

Miles huffs being too exhausted to try to communicate to him. All his energy wasted from the fight, and his small body seems to be weak from all the moving around. Hobs saw the dog yawns before lowering his head down. "Tired, huh? You must be hungry, too." His claw gently scratch the dog's neck, he put on his Prowler helmet back on him.

Hobs took his leave with the small brown dog back to his pad, it's on a secret penthouse up on some raving club. He had his own invention lying around, the place looked like a wore down penthouse with a touch of Hobs' punk style. Miles never saw his home, yet it's exactly how he imagines it. Hobie 42 placed the brown dog on an old couch with wore out leather, some of the sponge popping out.

"I guess, he can't get away from the old life." Miles thought to himself, he figures the punker had the same background like Hobie 138. Probably homeless for a while before he had this lifestyle.

The small brown dog watching with his Honey-brown eyes at Hobs removing his gear, he saw the burned mark from his shoulder to his forearm being covered in tattoos. Miles stood with his tail wagging at the long sleeves of tattoo, then saw Hobs removing his black tank top wanting to be shirtless.

Miles watches him reveal his fine abs and pecks, he got to see a belly button piercing with a green gem stone on it. "Oh GODDAMN!" His tail showing his excitement more than anything.

His little dark nose smells weed, beer and cheap cologne from the punker. Hobs ties his long dreads in a low lazy ponytail, then he went to the kitchen to get his yesterday takeout. Then he heard loud barking, "Hey, guys! Miss your pops? Hehehe, I bet you do." Hobs had two large Rottweilers in another room with a dog gate to prevent from going into his space. "Sorry, we got a little guest. I'm afraid you'll tear him up."

Miles peaks to find these massive scary dogs barking so loud, he quickly hid in one of the cushions. "Awe, man. I can't fight them. I'm so tiny!"

Hobs petted his boys before giving them kibble and mushy meat from a canned for dogs. "Here you go!" He saw his dogs going crazy for their meal. "Hahaha, good dogs."

Then he put his cold takeout in a microwave, his eyes glances over the small dog. "Almost forgot. Here."

Miles look at the small doggy bowl filled with wet mushy meat and kibble. "Uhhh, no thanks!" He's not eating dog food, his paw pushes the bowl away from him and he huffed.

Hobs arched his eyebrow, "You don't like?"

The brown puppy turns away, he curled himself into a ball. Hobs shrugs, "Alright, but don't come crying to me for food." He gave the bowl to his two big dogs. Then he got his warm up takeout, it happened to be Chinese food; chow men, fried rice with some spicy chicken and beef with broccoli. The punker went to sit on his couch and put the television on to watch a movie called Alien. His plastic fork dig through the chow mein, while he lift some noodles to his mouth.

Miles' nose wiggles, "Awe, is that Chinese food!" His stomach growled at the delicious smell, "Mmm, I love Chinese food. Share some with me!" He quickly went up to Hobs with tiny paws on his knees.

Hobs hears whimpering sounds, he looks at the brown dog with those cutely eyes staring at him. "What?" He chews his beef and broccoli.

"Please, can I have some beef!" Miles whimpers with his tail wagging as he tilt his head.

"Oh, I see. Sorry, pup. In Hobie's crib, dogs don't eat human food. I told you to eat your own." Hobs said, he sat down hearing the small whimpers and cries.

Miles wanted Chinese food and he will get it by any means necessary! So he began to get closer to Hobs' face, "Arfff."

Hobie sat down staring at his television, he sighs why is this dog so darn cute? "Hmmm..." Normally, Hobie 42 is the alpha and firm with his dogs, but this little pup.

"Arrrooooo," The brown dog whimpers so more, then hops on his lap to lick the punker's face. Hobie stares at the brown poodle's big gleaming eyes.

Hobie sighs, "Alright. Alright. But only today you're getting this. Tomorrow is pure kibble." He pets the dog's head, "Hmm what should I call you. We got time to name ya."

"Ohh yeah, scratch me there." Miles' eyes twitches enjoying a good scratch. He happily barks waiting for his food.

"You're a little spoiled, eh? A brat I would say."

"Hmm?" Miles turns his head at Hobie with pout, "No, I'm not!"

When the punker took some beef to feed the small pup, he saw the brown dog quickly eating most of his take out. "HEY! I said you can have a little- Awe, never mind." He let the dog eat the rest of the Chinese food not even being bothered by it. "Looks like I'll spoiled you."

"Arf!" Miles happily ate before he jumps on the couch with tail wagging.

"Looks like you need a bath." Hobie took the small dog getting ready for a bath.

The two sat in a warm tub enjoying their bubble bath. Miles happily rest his head on Hobs' chest seeing two nipple piercings. He felt his body being scrubbed down. Hobs chuckles, "Good dog."

"Mmm, he makes a great dog owner." Miles felt his body so warm and toasty by his bath. Sleep caught on with his eyes being super heavy.

When he got his body dried up, he saw Hobs wearing a white towel wrapped around his thin waist showing off a bit of his happy trail. "And he's such a fine man, too." Miles couldn't help but watch Hobs changed, he got to see everything and he means EVERYTHING! "Wow, he's packing!" Miles had to admit he does like hair down there, and the tattoos on Hobs' butt is so appealing to him.

Hobie saw the dog watching him put on his boxer, he arched his eyebrow at the dog. It felt like the dog was staring at him a bit too long. "He's a dog, Hobs." Though he wonders... he glances at the shiny watch on the pup's right paw.

Then, the punker put his dreads in his black bonnet, and went through his drawer, "Hmm. I might need to put a collar on you. Hmm, red and black or white or black?" He holds two dog collars in different colors.

"Do I have to? Think Miles. Think! This is crazy, but we must be smart here." Mile didn't like the idea of wearing a dog collar, "If I end up running off to God knows where, someone will put me in a shelter!" He sighs through his nose unaware of Hobie 42 watching him, "Looks like I'll be a dog for a while... unless tomorrow I can try to talk to Hobs about this- if I can!"

"Heh, it's a bit weird... you look like you're actually thinking about this." Hobie chuckles in amusement.

The brown dog quickly put his paw on the black and red collar. "Alright, nice choice. You know, you remind me of someone... someone with a great smile and cute eyes." Hobs went to put the dog collar on the little poodle.

"What? WHO!" Miles felt his tail wagging faster and faster, "IS it me! Or Miles 42 or someone else!"

"Hahaha, looks like you're curious on who, I can't give you away my secret." Hobs went on with a deep chuckle. "But I will give you this, he reminds me of a pretty Sunflower."

Miles felt his who body turned red being super flustered, "SO it is me!" Hobie 138 likes to call him, Sunflower from time to time. His small tail keeps wagging.

Hobie patted the small dog's head, "Okay, enough of talk. I got a big day tomorrow. You need to rest on the couch."

"Couch? No, this bed will be fine." The little poodle rushes to one of the large pillows to lay his head and his small body wiggle down the thick quilt being ready.

"Looks like you decided to stay here with me. I'm a bit touch, little pup." Hobs couldn't help but laugh. This dog is cute. The punker went over to his side of the bed to sleep.

Miles watches him slowly fall asleep the moonlight hit him like he was a majestic prince even with all that piercings on his face. Hobie had piercings on his bottom lips, one septum piercing, two on his left eyebrow, and so many on his ears. "He looks so godly like this." The brown dog slowly went up to snuggle against Hobs feeling his warmth, he's such a heater.

The dog curled up on the young man's chest finally taking his own snoozing. Miles can worry about this another day.

(Part 2)

[brandstifter-sys]

Parlay

@dukexietyweek 2025 Day 5 - Fantasy/Royalty +Ocean

Word Count: 1337 (Ao3)

Rating: T+

Characters: Remus, Virgil

Warnings/Content: ftm!Remus, selkie!Virgil, sex mention, torture mention, trafficking mention, threats mention

Captain Remus is a fun loving brat running from his past. Of course, that past just so happens to bring him to the hottest seal-man he's ever had the pleasure of imprisoning (temporarily)

---

Freedom was a rare commodity for anyone, especially a royal. No one knew that better than Remus. That's why he chose to run away, why he chose to earn the respect and fear people gave him. He fought tooth and nail to become the captain of this crew, and no one would take that title away from him while he was alive.

He knew he was a force to be reckoned with, a strong fighter with extensive skills and no fear. If swashbuckling wasn't on the table, he could talk his way out of anything, mainly by sounding deranged and a little horny. And if all else failed, he could lean on his good looks and appeal—who could resist a stout short king with long, tied back hair and an impeccable (fake) mustache?

“Captain,” a scruffy, old, peg-legged sailor said as he hobbled to the wheel. Remus glanced at him and then the navigator, a young woman who knew too much about the stars. They had to travel south to avoid the royal blockade and he was going to make sure that they went unnoticed. He would not be captured or worse, taken back to the capital as some reward token.

“The prisoner is awake,” the old sailor said and leaned against the mast, sore and out of breath. Now that was news!

“Ten degrees port. I'll be back in an hour to adjust,” Remus said and strutted his way down to the main deck. It wasn't often his crew took on prisoners—hostages, sure, but no one who could be a threat. And this guy stupidly attacked all on his own for no obvious reason! Remus was giddy about the prospect of torturing the information he needed out of the prisoner—mind games and flashing his chesticles, and then the painful stuff.

He grabbed a lantern and descended into the belly of his ship. The violent screams and rattling chains against the salt-stained wood were certainly loud enough to make him think someone was enjoying tormenting their prisoner, probably not in a fun way, but when he stepped into the brig, the only person there was trapped behind iron bars.

In the dim light, Remus couldn't help but admire the person. He had long dark hair and piercing purple eyes that could hypnotize a weaker pirate. He was bare save for a ratty pair of pants and the cuffs around his wrists that pinned him to the wall. His strong arms were straining in a vain attempt to break free, and Remus was sorely tempted to run his tongue over them and his muscular torso.

“A cúl tona!” the prisoner snarled and spat at the captain.

“I don't know what that means, but I'm assuming you just called me a sexy little baby!” Remus jeered, “And you're right! I am!”

“Dickhead!” the prisoner growled, “Let me go!”

“Now that's not very nice! Even if I let you go, you'll just try to kill me and my crew! And then you'll never find your pelt!” Remus jeered and leaned against the bars, fluttering his lashes.

“I'm not becoming a slave to a grimy bastard like you!” the selkie snapped, bearing his sharp, trident-like teeth.

“No? But you were being sent off to become a concubine for the soon-to-be king!” Remus gasped with mock innocence.

“What?!” the selkie yelled, more offended by the prospect of being married off than the idea that this imp was trying to annoy him.

“Isn't that why your queen sent you? To form an alliance with the birdbrain?”

“I'm not going anywhere near the Phoenix Prince and if you even think of sending me to him I will rip your throat open and throw you to the orcas!”

“Kinky! But I don't even know your name!” Remus jeered, “You can call me Remus.”

“Unlock the chains, Remus.”

“Tell me what to call you first,” Remus teased and entered the cell.

“Virgil.”

“Ooh!” Remus giggled and pulled his keys from his belt, “Now that's a name I’d love to scream in bed!”

“I'll kill you before you can force me into that. I'm not some pathetic human man you can use and throw away,” Virgil hissed. Remus decided not to acknowledge that remark, if only to keep his thoughts in check. He unlocked the chains, fully expecting Virgil would run to find his pelt and leave.

“Ack!”

Remus found himself pinned to the wall by the neck with his feet dangling over the floor. Virgil was glaring at him with the most lethal gaze—it was enough to make Remus shiver and blush.

“Now, you're going to take me to where you hid the princess and your bullshit crew will hand her over or I get to have my fun,” Virgil said and reached for Remus' belt.

Remus was stunned. Was this hot man about to take off his pants? Did he know that Remus had different parts than most guys? Was this seal man just as aroused as him?

Virgil snatched Remus' dagger and held the blade to Remus' throat. If Remus wasn't aroused before, he certainly was then!

“You need to explain what you mean by fun, because I am getting the wrong idea!”

“I'll turn you into chum. So release her.”

“Why? Why do you want the princess? What are you going to do with—?” Remus asked, only for the knife to press into his throat more. Virgil was not messing around.

“Negotiations. If Prince Roman won't stop you pirate bastards from trafficking my kin, she might be willing to help,” he explained coldly.

“My brother has zero control over outlaws!” Remus giggled, “There's no way he could help, even if he wanted to!”

“You're—”

“Remus. Captain Remus of the Kraken’s Booty, the most influential pirate bastard on the seas, and a royal pain in the ass—unless you want me to experience that instead, I’m more than willing,” Remus cut him off, “And you're the first selkie I ever captured!”

“Foc!” Virgil snapped and dropped Remus on his ass. He tossed the dagger aside and ran his hands over his face. This cute brat was the person he was looking for—and he wasn't a hostage! How was he supposed to face his queen now? He had one job and it was ruined!

Remus huffed and got to his feet. He was not pleased that his life wasn't in danger anymore—this selkie was hitting all the right buttons to make him weak in the knees.

“Why so upset?” Remus cooed and wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist, “I can still help you and put a stop to the trafficking—and you can help me too.”

Virgil went rigid as Remus ran his hands over his fuzzy abs.

“What do you want?” Virgil bristled and dared glance at Remus. He regretted it as soon as their eyes met. The little imp was far too adorable to resist. He had to be part siren with his unnatural allure.

“To make you want me! I love a man who can kick my ass and threaten me with a good time! Do you know how hard it is to find someone like that? Much less someone who's hot as hell!”

Virgil was beet red and trembling. This bratty imp was feeling him up and he actually liked being held at knife point. Those deft fingers were curling in his body hair, tickling poor Virgil in the sultriest way. He was seriously considering sticking around anyway, since he couldn't face the queen without having a ton of explaining to do, but the electric touch was making it all the more appealing.

And then those hands cupped his firm, beefy pecs, kneading them appreciatively.

All bets were off and he hoisted Remus up, slamming him against the wall so he was eye level.

“You're gonna regret this,” he growled and leaned in. Remus wondered if he would, right before Virgil captured his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip.

Remus wouldn't regret a damn thing.

[slasheddreams]

The Pristine, White Apartment [ broken glass / blood rain ] - The Expurgation Series [ broken glass / blood rain ]

content warning for: [ mentions of blood and violence, mentions of injury via baseball bat, vaguely alludes to the concept of the "uncanny valley", and the like. ]

... This apartment was a marbled off-white color.

Yumeno ran her fingers along the cold kitchen counters. There wasn't even dust on the marble surface.

This apartment was rather big, she had to admit. Much bigger than her own apartment back home, but to her, it felt more like a house.

...

It felt more like a home. Yeah. Someone else's home, but a home nonetheless.

The shoes lined up by the door, the umbrellas in the glass container by the door, the freshly washed dishes in the dish rack, water still dripping from the plates into the sink with a rhythmic snapping sound.

Her fingers gripped the camera she held softly, her deep blue eyes focused on the tall man standing before her. The odd man in the beige coat with the baby blue eyes and an off-putting smile.

"... This is your home? How... quaint and tidy."

The smile never left his face, and a soft nod and hum of agreement were directed toward the young woman. A dead blue gaze pierced her chest as he turned his head slightly.

"It is. Why don't you take a look around, Yumeno? And then, come sit with me once you're done."

...

The couches were similar to the rest of the house, an off-white color, kept to a pristine standard, not a crease or stain anywhere. No dust nor dirt. It amazed her, how someone could live in a house so... pristine and perfect.

The kitchen was the same. There was a flawless countertop, with a marbled lazy Susan, an assortment of spices lay ontop of it. The knife block was completely filled, not a knife missing from it, and each knife was sharp and shiny. The stove was clean, nor grease or dust laid atop it. She wasn't sure there was dust anywhere in this house.

The steel sink and fridge glowed in the white light, not a single fingerprint or water stain in sight. And not to say Yumeno didn't try. The fridge was cool to the touch, yet her fingerprints wouldn't stick. The water worked, yet the water never stained.

It was simply as pristine as always. It annoyed her.

There were two bedrooms, one opened and one closed. She wouldn't go into a closed room, much less someone's private quarters. However, Yumeno assumed the open room was free game, hovering in the doorway. This room must have been that man's room, assuming he actually did live there. Her hand rested on the doorway to the room.

The room itself felt rather big, just like the rest of this apartment. There was a neatly made bed in the centre of the room, a wooden desk laid on the side furthest from the door, covered in neat and orderly stacks of... some sort of paper material. A deep obsidian robe hung from the slightly ajar closet door, filled with other clothing items the photographer couldn't care less about. A bookshelf with books, a framed photograph, a box of strawberry-shaped bandages, a box cutter, a laundry basket of clothes and a shiny, silver baseball bat... it was certainly a room, one well lived in.

There was a hallway bathroom, nothing special or of note.

There was a garage door, but Yumeno quickly found it to be locked from the other side. Pausing a moment, she leaned against the door. She pressed her ear to it, a faint clicking sound emanating from the locked-off area, as well as this odd squelching noise. She grimaced a little, pulling herself away from the door. The noise made her nauseous, it was so unpleasant.

...

The smell of curry permeated the air, a sweet and alluring smell drawing Yumeno back to the main living room area. The man stood in the kitchen, his back turned to her, his coat laid lazily across the chair he sat in prior.

His thick auburn brown hair clung to the nape of his neck, neatly maintained and well-kept. His light blue shirt looked almost snow-white in the kitchen's lighting if it wasn't for the dark brown, unbuttoned vest he wore atop it.

"... You're cooking curry?"

He turned, a soft smile forming on his face. His blue eyes harbored some light in them this time around, his brown hair framing such a pretty face. His freckles almost seemed to glisten like glitter under the sunlight.

"My father figure used to cook curry for me whenever I visited his home as a guest. I suppose it's just... a habit of mine, to make some for my guests as he did for me all those years ago."

Yumeno carefully dragged herself through the kitchen, finding a place by his side in the kitchen, peering over his shoulder with hungry curiosity. Her hands rested on the camera hanging around her neck, picking it up slightly. Her head tilted slightly, her eyes falling on the man's face. Focused on the curry, a small furrow on his lips as he painstakingly poured so much love and effort into it. There was always something a little uncanny about him, Yumeno believed, from the moment she ran into him on that fateful street corner on Otleus Avenue. Something was inherently familiar about his face, his voice, his demeanor. But something unshakable... something wrong.

That feeling seemed to have melted away in that moment, however. This man was nothing more than a lonely man, seeking nothing more than someone's company. She felt a little bad for judging him so harshly.

She paused a moment, her eyes falling on the camera in her hands. He looked particularly pretty in this lighting, she thought to herself. He almost seemed to glisten, like an angel in the holy light. She took a step back, raising her camera as she took a knee. Aiming her camera, she leaned slightly, carefully making sure to capture the whole scene in her lens, before a soft 'click' sounded off, echoing lightly in the pristine kitchen grounds.

The man paused, his head turning slightly to face his guest. He cocked his neck to the side slightly, curiosity filling his eyes. His fingers twitched, lightly grasping onto the wooden stick he had been using to stir. Watching as she rose off her knee, Yumeno tilted her camera towards herself with a soft smile, laughing.

"Did you take a photo of me...?"

Laughing a little, the redhead nodded. Then, shuffling closer, she tilted the camera slightly in his direction. Gently butting his head against Yumeno's, his eyes fell on the digital photograph... she certainly had a talent for it.

"You looked a little too pretty for me not to take a photo! You certainly have your brother's photogenic traits... I guess I can say I have seen two pretty brothers after all."

A snicker emerged from his throat as he gently scooped up a grey, ceramic curry bowl from the dish rack. His other hand gently interlocked with the plastic handles of the rice cooker, pulling it closer to him.

"Are you the type of photographer who also takes photographs of food?"

"Usually only if the actual subject of the photograph is eating it."

He gently scooped a small serving of rice into the grey curry bowl, and then, taking his wooden spoon, he scooped up a generous amount of curry, filling the other half of the curry bowl. It was plated so gorgeously, that she couldn't help but think about going back on her word there for a brief moment.

Placing the plate of curry and rice down at the table, the man gently motioned Yumeno to a seat with a soft smile. She wondered if he had any other facial expressions, she only ever saw him smiling... but it would be odd to be anything other than delighted at dinnertime.

...

It was almost like heaven, Yumeno thought. The curry was creamy, a tangy flavor floating on her tongue, a little spicy to wake her up. The rice itself was soft and light, clinging onto the flavor of the curry with a warm sensation. The chicken shredded so easily, the vegetables were just soft enough to where they weren't mush but didn't become a chore chewing either. Simply put... it was delicious.

"Thank you for dinner, sir. It was really kind of you."

"No."

Looking up, the man beamed softly with another gentle smile. Placing a hand against the side of his face, he laughed softly.

"Thank you for giving me the chance to make this curry again, after so many years..."

Looking away, he sighed a bit, laying his hand in his cheek. A furrow creased his brow slightly.

"... My father figure died 4 years ago, and my brother doesn't visit me. People don't visit me either, so this curry recipe... is often left sitting on my shelves. It's my first time making it in such a long time... so, really. Thank you."

Pausing, Yumeno placed her hand on the table quietly.

... he really did just seem like a lonely man. Now she really did feel bad for being so judgemental...

"It's very tasty. Was this your father figure's recipe?"

"... yeah, it was. Although, his curry was much spicier than this. He loved his spices... he loved them a lot. I can barely handle my spice though... so it hardly has the same kick."

She nodded slowly, the metal spoon lying lightly against the ceramic bowl. It collided with a soft 'clink', and remained motionless in the bowl. A heavy silence lingered across the dinner table. It was uncomfortable just how heavy sadness weighed in the air.

...

"You're so much different than I imagined."

"Huh?"

The words slipped out of Yumeno's mouth before she could really think of what to say. Something so small yet, words always carried a lot of weight. A lot more weight than her action and intent ever could. She did not come to his home out of the goodness of her heart, this much she could admit.

"Sorry, I just... I only knew about you from Daishobu's stories... but he always seemed so... upset about you. Like you ruined his life, he always openly despised you."

Looking down, she sighed. Her fingers twitched slightly as she brought her hands to her chest, shaking her head lightly.

There was the coffee order, something that seemed so innocent, so sweet initially in her mind. A caramel frappuccino with extra caramel drizzle, whipped cream, and caramel chips sprinkled on top. With the side treat the strawberry crepe, with the chocolate drizzle and the bite-sized vanilla wafers, dipped partially in chocolate cream, topped with whipped cream and fresh strawberries. When she heard it for the first time while at Vespa's cafe, she was entranced by its sweetness and sense of nostalgia. It sounded like a kid's dream, she believed. And, as it turned out, it was an order the man's brother was quite fond of, to the point it was engrained in that man's memories.

It turned out that drink and treat had made that man sick beyond belief. The taste of sugar like this made his stomach churn, to the point he couldn't hold down much of it. Years of sharing it, sugar being forced down his throat, the very thought made him sick. The afternoons filled with parents screaming, things breaking, and children crying, it all haunted his memories. And Yumeno would have never known, had she never asked. His eyes held such much hatred and disdain. Yumeno didn't know one man could harbor so much volatile vitriol in his heart.

"... I never did realize how badly he hated it. Caramel and Chocolate."

Closing his eyes, he sighed. He deflated slightly, shaking his head.

"It's my fault... I never really asked what he liked. Sugar always made him feel ill... but I really hated bitter and sour things... I was terrible."

Clasping his hands together, he groaned a bit, rolling his head to the side. Sighing again, he tilted his head again.

"I mean, I don't know if I ever really saw Daishobu as a person, to be honest. I mean, he must have told you, about the bandaid."

"Yeah... he did a little bit. He called you manic. And a little off kilter."

Yumeno didn't know too much about it, the bandages that was. She knew he preferred to treat his own wounds, and he didn't like being cared for. He always said that his brother treated him like a dress-up doll, or something sub-humane. Yumeno didn't fully understand it, though. But she knew it, and she trusted him. And he trusted her.

"... I couldn't blame him."

"You don't seem like such a bad person though."

Raising her hands softly, she clasped her hands along the bandaged hands of the man in front of her. His hand felt soft and warm in her own, unlike the cold, rugged, and callous hands of his twin brother. Her fingers intertwined with his own, a soft expression forming on her face.

"You've been very kind to me, and very willing to talk to me, to open up to me... You're also very sweet, cooking for me..."

Leaning her head to the side, she nodded slowly. A soft sigh, and then, squeezing his hand softly.

"Daishobu's always been a messier guy. Always a little unkempt, a little strange, a little messy. A little reckless. I kind of assumed you'd be the same. But this place is so... everything is so neat and well-kept, this place is really pristine."

She always thought it was odd how perfectly pristine it was. It was so clean, it looked like it wasn't possible to live in this house, yet... there he was. It was... too perfect.

"Ah... Really..."

Tilting his head slightly, he chuckled. Nodding slightly, cocking his head to the side further, he stayed silently. Yumeno let go of his hands, her eyes falling on the window sill. She could see the sun setting, she really should held out, she should go home soon. But she felt bad, he seemed like a good guy.

A good guy who was just very lonely.

...

Eventually, she took her hands away from his. Her hands felt so cold now. She smiled worriedly as she stood up.

"Thank you for letting me come over and talk to you a bit, Cipher. It's getting very late, though. I should be leaving soon, however."

"Oh? But, do you really have to?"

Pausing, Yumeno froze softly. That uncanny feeling came back, flooding her senses. A slight terror gripped her, something felt... wrong. Laughing awkwardly, Yumeno shook her head dismissively.

"I wouldn't want to overstep my stay further..."

"Mhm."

Taking a step back towards the door, Yumeno grimaced slightly. Something seemed really wrong... she couldn't tell what it was though. Reaching out, she paused. Why...

Why wouldn't the doorknob move? It wouldn't move...

Looking at the door, Yumeno wiggled the doorknob, she grimaced. Why wouldn't it move?

"What's wrong?"

Cipher smiled again, and this time, Yumeno noticed something in his hands. A pair of pristine, glistening silver keys. She grimaced again, lowering her hands. Nodding, she laughed nervously.

"Oh... I'm okay! I... do have to use the bathroom though. May I?"

Cipher nodded, gesturing down the hall with a chuckle.

"Be my guest."

...

Locking the bathroom door, Yumeno sank down onto the floor, grimacing again. When did he lock the front door? Her hands were shaking slightly. So, she might not be the best judge of character.

Pulling out her phone, she grimaced again. There were a ton of numbers on her phone, hundreds of people she could call. But, it didn't matter in the end. From A to Z, she called every number, and from A to Z, none of the calls went through. She began to wonder if the bathroom was a dead cell spot.

There was a gentle knock on the bathroom door, in a rhythm of one, two, one. (Yumeno remembered Daishobu mentioned that. He fervently hated it.) Her body tensed up, flinching at the sudden noise.

"Are you okay in there?"

Uncanny. He sounded so uncanny. She could imagine the smile plastered on his face. It was so unpleasant in her mind. He was rather tall... she could imagine him, slightly bending over. Leaning. Looming. She hated the mental image.

"I'm okay! Just... washing up a bit!"

She was lying. She was a terrible liar.

And she knew that he knew that she was lying.

"Are you lying to me? That hurts my feelings!"

There was a rough thud against the doorknob, causing Yumeno to jump. Backing up from the door, Yumeno fumbled with her phone. Someone had to pick up, anyone, anywhere.

Another rough thud landed against the door, and then, another thud. The screeching sounds of metal tearing through wood. Terror filled her lungs. Was he breaking down the door with a baseball bat?

She couldn't even scream, terror struck her, and it had paralyzed her.

"It's not fair. It's always "brother this" and "brother that". But never "I miss him." It's never "I loved my brother." It's never anything but complaints. Aren't you also tired of his hateful attitude, Yumeno?"

Through the jagged cracks in the door, she could see something. It no longer looked like the infamous brother she came to visit. Instead, the thing in the crack was something more... something worse. It looked more like a shadow than a person. A dark, deep shadow.

It was more like a nightmare.

"You know, no one else would take care of him. A useless, defenseless, unwanted child, who couldn't do anything but cry and watch as the one person who ever gave a damn slipped away from him and turn into nothingness."

It reached inside through the cracks made, sharp wood tearing through shadow arms, a thick and viscous red liquid pouring from the wounds, yet, it barely seemed to bother it. Reaching for the doorknob, it unlocked the door with a silent 'click', and pushed it open with a silent creak.

It was all shadow, with no discernible features on it, other than its piercing baby blue eyes and white smile.

Her voice quacked, weak and shaky. It felt lost in her throat for so long, and only a barely audible question could escape a terror seized throat.

"What... What are you..."

It paused, cocking its head to the side. It rolled on its shoulders unnaturally, its free shadowed claw raising to its chest. With a soft thud against its own chest, it hummed.

"I am whatever you believe me to be. I can be your best friend, your worst enemy, the grandmother on the street, a dead brother, a lost lover. I am whatever you believe me to be."

Lifting the bat in its occupied hand, it pointed the scrapped-up silver bat at the cowering girl on the floor. It watched silently as she squirmed and squealed, backing herself further into a corner. How stupid could someone be?

"Unless you want a name? A nameee. A.... naaame. I don't have one of those."

It bent down, its torso collapsing in on itself, contorting in odd, disturbing ways. Like a ragdoll that could breathe, walk, talk, and shift its shape and appearance. It poked Yumeno's chest with the bat lightly, still smiling, still contorting.

"I'd like one of those. A name means I'm a being. It makes me realllll. I want one."

Ramming the bat a little harsher into her chest, it leaned closer. It bent down more until its knee collided with the floor with a thud. Reaching out with its other hand, it ran shadowed claws along the base of the silver bat with a smile. Then, it leaned even further, its claws swiping the edges of her chin, giggling.

"... Do you like your name?"

Yumeno paused, trembling.

"W... What?"

"Do. you. like. your. name."

Grimacing, Yumeno looked away, fumbling with her hands nervously. She wasn't... sure. To be honest, her name was just... her name to her. Nothing special or noteworthy... just... a name.

"It's... okay? I mean, I don't hate it."

"But you don't love it?"

"Not particularly? But... it's a nice name."

Cocking its head to the side again, it moved the bat back slightly. Tilting again, it nodded slowly.

"Names are tricky. Especially when you don't have one."

Lifting the bat, it gently collided with her chin, watching as she grimaced.

"I want one. I like the name... Miyuki. I am Miyuki. It's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

Whimpering, Yumeno's hand shakily leaned against the cold steel of the bat. Hesitantly nodding, she prayed it would be enough to make it back off.

Watching it as it stood up, twirling the bat in its hand, "Miyuki" peered down at her. She seemed so weak, so fragile, so frail. It almost made it coo, she looked so adorable.

"... you're really cute, Yumeno. Like a little bunny rabbit."

Extending its hand, Yumeno paused a moment. Then, hesitantly, she reached up, taking its hand with a trembling hand. Pulling Yumeno to the side, it watched as she stumbled out of the bathroom. Clenching onto the keys in her hands, she glanced at the keys and then back at that... thing. Miyuki?

However, it didn't move, simply staring at her. Unblinking, unmoving, simply... in shadow.

Her knees ached, shaking and trembling. She was so scared, so terrified... Yet, she stumbled towards the door. She didn't even have her phone on her anymore. She barely cared anymore. She just wanted to get out.

...

Spinning the bat in its hand, it started walking towards Yumeno slowly, smiling.

One step.

She was still fumbling with the keys... so many keys on this one key ring, how was she supposed to know which key was the right one?

Two steps. You're slow.

She just has to try all of them. She has to. She doesn't know what will happen to her if she can't.

Three steps. You're boring me.

It's not this one. It's not this one either. Her hands were trembling so badly. Maybe this pristine silver key is the one? Everything that isn't that off-white color was silver, so... maybe?

Four steps.

A soft 'click' sounded from the doorknob, and then, pressing down, the door swung open. The cold winter flooded the apartment door, kissing her skin like a fleeting summer fling in the summer sun, watching as the summer chills over and fades away-

Five.

A loud crack echoed against her skull, a sharp pain spreading down her spine. Her vision blurred as she stumbled forward, collapsing into the snow. The cold prickled her skin, a thick red flower blossoming into the snow beneath her. Her ears rang, her hands trembled, she wanted to scream, to cry.

crack!

Pain flooded her senses again, her body twitching with the force. Spots trickled in her vision, and crimson red blossomed even further in the snow. It was agony.

crack!

crack!

crack!

...

The snow reflected the silver of the baseball bat rather beautifully. And the red on the bat glistened on the snow so nicely. The pain was only numbing now, it hurt for a moment, sure. But, she felt so... at peace in the moment. She felt... a little tired.

"You don't look too good. That's a shame. You were so close."

...

Taking one step out, a brown leather loafer and black slacks entered her faded vision, and a familiar-looking beige coat. She could feel a hand on her shoulder, a slight pressure on her back.

...

Maybe she should take a small nap. She could... figure the rest out... later.

...

She wasn't sure when "later" would be though.

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - VJ / ???

Wonders

After VJ had finished talking to Morgana, he set off to hunt. By now he knew a few regions where there were a few deers. The sun was setting and his eyes had to be extra vigilant now.

And even the last rays of sun touching the horizon in the distance still make the autumn trees glow. Soon you might not be able to see your own hand in front of your eyes due to the darkness. But VJ didn't just want to go in search of a wild animal, he had recently found an old tree trunk with a bees' nest. And in the evening, the little insects are known to be calmer and less aggressive.

VJ is used to walking a lot, so he doesn't mind walking long distances. And his eyes work surprisingly well. A little further up a hill, there was a small, young stag that was about to eat some dry roots. VJ positioned himself so that the wind would not carry his scent to the animal and kept perfectly still. "Now it's your turn... Sorry".

He didn't hesitate for long, by now he had such a steady hand that he rarely missed his target. There were no distractions, so the shot was so precise that the animal fell down the slope after the hit. The little buck tried to get up, but the shot went straight through its neck. "Yes, oh boy! OK, I'll come and get you later, I just want to check on the bees".

The old tree trunk that housed a large bees' nest was far out, almost on the outskirts of the city. But people like to go that far to get something sweet. But to his regret, there was no honey to be had. Perhaps someone else had already helped themselves to it. But the bees like it when you leave them something, a bit of pollen… But then he suddenly heard a noise…

It rustled in the bushes, so VJ assumed that it was an animal. So he reached for his bow again and nocked the arrow. He drew the bow to shoot... "What the..."/ "for heaven's sake, please don't shoot!...". It clearly wasn't an animal, animals can't talk, usually... "Unbelievable, did you really want to shoot at us, VJ?"

VJ was completely surprised. He knew the people standing in front of him, at least he recognized some of them… "You can put that fucking thing down now, boy…" Of course VJ lowered his bow again. "Sorry, I just thought there was a bear or a fox…". The man with the hat was a little annoyed "very funny, there's no bears out here, boy"/"hey, who are you, Chuck Norris without muscles?"/"tz, if I didn't have a cracked rib, I'd laugh!"

The blonde woman being carried spoke in a trembling voice. "Is… Is that VJ?"/ "Yes, sweetie… He's standing in front of us with a bow and arrow"/ "Uh, VJ, can you… Take us home"/ "Blair?…"/ "I'm so tired…"/ "Are those chickens?". Again, the man with hat spoke in a strong voice. "She asked you a question"/ "um, sorry… Yes, of course, follow me, maybe to the hospital first?"/ "Yes, a good idea…", the other blonde woman answered…

The annoyed excited man's voice became calmer again. "It won't be long now, darling… then we'll be home again… Or what's left of it…"/ "Can you still carry me, Cy? You're in pain…"/ "I said I'd carry you until I can't anymore…". Blair cuddled her head against his chest, "hnhn, Chuck Norris, see, I told you so…".

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

End of this Part

Note: Staging this group picture was very fiddly, and I had to restart the game in between because I really wanted to have this awesome backpack in the game. It's from @aroundthesims , thanks for this great detail^^

@greenplumbboblover 😊

[litcityblues]

Sisters Be Dune It For Themselves

The success of the movies probably made something like Dune: Prophecy inevitable and the first season of this show is something of a tightrope act: is it going for a lukewarm Game of Thrones in spaaaaaaaace type of a thing or do they have something more interesting in mind? It was threatening to go one way (and honestly, I was getting a little bored of it) but it managed to bring me back and get me engaged enough to decide that they definitely have something more interesting in mind.

This show decides to go 'all-in' on the concept of a prequel, taking place 10,000 years before the events of Dune and about a century or so after humanity's final triumph against the thinking machine armies of Omnius at the Battle of Corrin.

That interesting piece of Dune lore made me decide to plunge into the world of Dune prequels and I found myself reading The Butlerian Jihad (from the Legends of Dune Trilogy) before I realized that it was probably Sisterhood of Dune that I should really be reading and thus, am somewhat annoyed by the fact that I'm probably going to wind up reading six Dune novels that aren't actually part of the mainline series, assuming this show goes the distance and last for a few seasons. (For the record: prior to cracking into The Butlerian Jihad, I had read Dune. Just Dune. Nothing else. No mutating into a giant sandworm God-Emperor. Just Dune.)

But, back to Dune: Prophecy

I like the fact that they set this 10,000 years before the movies. It means that you don't have to pay attention to the events of the original books/movies/series at all, unless you want too. You're still in the same universe of course- so, spaceships and the like look similar. You've got Fremen, the Bene Gesserit, etc-- and all the maneuverings of the Great Houses, but humanity has a very different relationship with technology at this point in the timeline. (Thinking machines bad, very, very bad-- but guess what the Sisterhood uses to track their genetic bloodlines? Oh, that's right... a thinking machine!)

At the heart of the Sisterhood--- not quite the Bene Gesserit we know from the movies yet, but getting there, a sort of proto-Bene Gesserit are two sisters, Valya (Emily Mortimer) and Tula (Olivia Williams) Harkonnens exiled from their family and part of a faction within the Sisterhood that wants to prepare for a great Reckoning prophesized by the founder of the Order, Mother Raquella (Cathy Tyson.) We find out that Valya came to power after a factional struggle: there were Butlerians who wanted to ensure that the Sisterhood helped to keep humanity free from the dangers of technology and there was Valya's faction which wanted control. Her secret- the secret that haunts this entire show is that Valya seized power by using The Voice (yes that voice) to force Raquella's granddaughter, Dorotea to kill herself.

30 years later and Valya and the Sisterhood are doing the usual Bene Gesserit things. They are preparing for their reckoning, maneuvering the Great Houses deftly behind the scenes, and when Princess Inez (Sarah-Sofie Boussnina) is betrothed to the scion of House Richese, the young Pruwett (Charlie Hodson-Prior) everyone is pleased: the Sisterhood thinks the marriage will stabilize the Corrino Bloodline for generations and maintain the Emperor Jarrico's (Mark Strong) control over Arrakis in the meantime.

However, the arrival of Desmond Hart (Travis Fimmel) changes everything. He has some kind of power that immolates Pruwett and Sister Katya as well and makes it clear that he wants the Emperor's trust at the expense of the Sisterhood. Suddenly on the outs with the Emperor, Valya and Tula find themselves confronting their past and racing to find out just who Desmond Hart is and more to the point, what the heck this power of his is because he keeps turning people into crispy critters somehow and that's not cool.

The upshot of all of this is this: Valya and Tula realize who Desmond is and more to the point, realize that someone else is grasping for control. Valya, Inez, and Keiran-- because this is Dune, remember- inevitably find themselves on Arrakis.

Interestingly: the whole burning to death thing can be resisted by facing your fear-- the Litany Against Fear that seems to be part and parcel of Bene Gesserit teachings by the time of Paul Atreides is not present here and they only just seem to be realizing it's potential. Whether the origin of it has its roots here and gradually becomes less necessary over time, we don't yet know, but it's an exciting wrinkle (along with them having a secret thinking machine) that brought me fully back on board with this when I was really asking myself if a Game of Thrones in spaaaaaaaace was really all that worth it.

Overall: Teeters on the edge of being boring, but comes back strong at the end to get you very, very interested in a second season. Great cast, great story and can I just say once again how much I love the distance between this show and the events of the movies? Brilliant movie and I can't wait to see what they do next. My Grade: *** out of **** Solid first season, let's see what they do with the next one.

[basedkikuenjoyer]

This has been a really fun re-visit for me. I first read Memoirs of a Geisha around the time the movie was announced. It was still a relatively new novel in 2005, this was when I was really getting into anime, the film was pushed very hard despite not doing all that well. It was the first time I really noticed Michelle Yeoh and I remember being super excited to finally rent it only for my mom to be an annoying brat the whole movie because how dare I "make" her watch something "too foreign." (Read, I was happy to watch it in my room and she was bitter I was into something so girly) She got into the Noh scene here though. That's all I really want to say about the film, I like it but it misses a lot of what made the book one of the most impactful things I read as a teenager.

It's the story of a girl named Chiyo, later Sayuri, who was sold off into the traditional Gion pleasure district of Kyoto at a young age to become a geisha. We follow most of her life from a small fishing village to this famous entertainer. Punctuated with the Great Depression and WW2 happening during this time. Nice three-act structure; learning the ropes and dealing with the bitchy Hatsumomo, becoming a star with her mentor Mameha's help, the disruption of the war and picking up the pieces after. All woven together with a nice little romantic plot which was always the least interesting to me. Where it really shines is the imagery, the sense of place in Gion, and Sayuri as a narrator very much keeping that tone of a skilled conversationalist.

So let's get the controversy out of the way. Not the movie casting Malaysian and Chinese actors as Japanese characters...if you have an axe to grind there you're madder about it that the Japanese actors were. And it is banned in some Asian countries because it's partially about Japan in WW2 but usually highlighting how the protagonist is isolated from that. The real controversy was about the book. Author Arthur Golden was sued by one of the geisha he interviewed, Mineko Iwasaki, because he acknowledged her in the first release. She thought they had an agreement, powerful people in her life thought they saw stuff about them, she faced backlash and even death threats, there was a settlement out-of-court and she released her own "true" story. Which itself drew it's own criticism for likely lying in some parts for damage control. Her book is next on my list.

I'm going to be honest, it always felt like looking back that controversy was one of my first experiences with annoying twats trying to "cancel" something they don't like for dumb reasons while needing to convince themselves it's a righteous thing to do. You had a lot of people at the time who heard "geisha" and assumed it was a sordid tale about high-class prostitutes and there was an obsession over whether or not it was a true story despite always being clearly presented as historical fiction.

All that to say, like Narnia it bugs me when people let the noise become an excuse for ignoring a great story. It's very much a tale of a charming, smart girl using her wits to survive and get ahead in the world. The movie misses the mark because it's a little too obsessed with the beautiful aesthetics, but I always loved Chiyo as a character for being a little shit through and through. The book really captures that tone of her being used to all that. The way everything shifts around WW2 is absolutely excellent as well. Before that you hear things about cars and electricity spreading and all that but Gion itself feels so timeless. Then that world is ripped away.

Re-reading now, I get why this appealed to me so much. I was about 14/15 at the time and maybe not out yet but things were obvious enough I'd get caught up in the shitty social games of teenage girls plenty. Maybe that little bit of distance helped to see how what I was dealing with as the same. And being out for so long has definitely showed how important that type of poise and composure is in my life. Chiyo's never really a meek protagonist even if she has to fight back with a clever turn of phrase over slapping a bitch. The strength of her as a main character and the rich setting definitely make this a worthy read. I feel much stronger about that on a re-visit than I did back then.

[lonewolflink]

hi! before reading your fic I’d only ever watched one hockey match at my local mall (there’s an ice rink) and it shook me for real. after reading your fic my interest in hockey has resurfaced, but I have no idea where to start. any suggestions?

HELLO!!! i'm sorry this response is so damn late; it's been hectic af around here (here being...my life).

i am genuinely so excited that you're interested in getting into hockey. it is such a fun sport to be a fan of.

*warning*: this is a super long post, because i wanted to answer you thoroughly and make a list of useful resources in case anyone else reading wsc also wanted to get into watching hockey and wasn't sure where to start.

generally speaking, my recommendation is to familiarize yourself with the basic rules of the game, and then maybe pick a team to start following. being a fan is most fun once you start getting invested in the players on the team and know their stories, their connection to the community, etc.

—basic rules of the game—

there are some more (and less) useful guides online to getting into watching hockey. i'll link you a few; peruse at your leisure (and note that some of these posts are pretty old; they're still overall solid though).

(1) i think this short guide is might be the best place to start. it's just some guy on his own personal blog, i think, but that (weirdly) is what makes it a better take than more "official" sports journalism outlets.

(2) this is a really helpful (and fairly short) guide to the different zones of the ice and what they're called, and some other basic concepts of the game. i think it's directed at parents of kids who are starting to play hockey, but still super useful!

(3) this guide doesn't give a ton of detail but it's solid re: concrete basic steps to take to get into hockey.

(4) parts of this guide are outdated (e.g. brendan shanahan no longer runs the department of player safety and is instead the president of the toronto maple leafs) and it's a little pretentious in the way hockey fans can sometimes be, but it gives a sense of the flavor of being a fan of this sport i think.

(5) more on this below, but 2024 began with a bang, as the Professional Women's Hockey League (PWHL) began it's inaugural (!) season. there are some differences between the NHL and the PWHL, some of which are covered here and here. if you're interested in watching women's hockey, that'll be useful!

—picking a team and how to watch—

[note: i am assuming you live in north america. if you do not, some of this might not apply, e.g. picking a favorite team based on geographic proximity]

if you're starting at a baseline of 0 hockey knowledge, you should probably know the names of three hockey leagues: the National Hockey League (NHL, the best men's league in the world), the American Hockey League (AHL, the NHL's minor league where their young prospects usually play for a few years before transitioning to the majors), and the aforementioned Professional Women's Hockey League (PWHL, literally brand new as of a month ago).

NHL Recommendations

—the NHL is a great place to start for watching hockey, largely because it has the best players in the world so the level of play is extremely high and entertaining, and it has some really great personalities in the game right now. i watch the NHL regularly. —if you live in an area that already has an NHL team (or at least one within 2 hours of driving), i'd recommend starting out as a fan of that team. this is bc part of sports culture is to support your home/local team, but also because that gives you more opportunities to see your favorite team play in person. here's a list of all the NHL teams. —watching the NHL on TV or your computer is actually kind of annoying, because the league is run by a bunch of idiots in its bureaucracy. you can watch most games (but for some reason not all of them) if you have ESPN+. here's the nhl's official guide for how/where to watch. —i am a poor grad student so i use other...completely...legal...means to stream NHL games online. they are, as i just said, completely legal (...). but um. nonetheless, if you want to know how to find and use these means...maybe just...shoot me a private message. —if you don't have geographic proximity to any of the NHL teams, there are a few ways to pick a team to follow. some classics:

1. as you learn about hockey and watch some games, you might find yourself starting to have a favorite player. you can start with their team! [message me or send another ask if you want some recs for players to look into!]

2. pick the jersey you think is coolest. it's how kids pick their favorite teams half the time, so why not us? here's a link to an article that that ranks the current home jerseys of teams. i STRONGLY disagree with these rankings, but the photos of the jerseys are high quality so you can see them well. you can also see each team's away jersey and third/alternate jersey designs here.

3. pick a fun, up and coming team to follow. some notes on this: —for example, if i were you and could pick any team, i would probably not pick my very own favs the washington capitals. they were one of the dominant teams of the last 15 or so years because our captain is the greatest goalscorer of all time. however, he is now 38 (ancient by athlete standards) and the team is on its decline. —by contrast, a team like the edmonton oilers is super exciting to watch; they're considered current championship contenders because they have by far the best player in the world, connor mcdavid (aka "McJesus"). they're kind of a heart attack to watch because they have insane offense but not amazing defense, so they score a lot and get scored on a lot. they're a team with amazing history (wayne gretzky's dynasty oilers in the 80s), but were TERRIBLE for decades until mcdavid came around. he's trying to bring the franchise back to glory from the pathetic ashes it turned into. —then there's teams like the montreal canadiens or buffalo sabres, who have been really bad the last while but drafted a ton of great young players who are on the verge of becoming superstars. they'll probably not make the playoffs this year (and maybe not next year) but they'll be on the cusp soon and getting into a journey like that with a young team early on is super fun. —in general, teams i'd stay away from being a fan of, if you have a choice:

-washington capitals/pittsburgh penguins/st. louis blues (formerly top teams in the league, now on the decline) -toronto maple leafs (the most tortured fans (and also somehow the most annoying and entitled), don't join their ranks) -arizona coyotes/columbus blue jackets (disaster franchises (sorry fans of those teams! it's true!!) traditionally have been poorly run) -chicago blackhawks (they do have the next great superstar in connor bedard, but they've had some really messed up scandals in their organization and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth) -new york rangers/islanders (unless you're from nyc...don't)

—recs for current good teams if you want to come in when they're already hot, they're all pretty fun teams tbh: -carolina hurricanes -colorado avalanche (recent champions) -new jersey devils -florida panthers -seattle kraken -vancouver canucks -vegas golden knights (recent champions) -edmonton oilers

—recs for up and coming young teams that will break out in the next 1-4 seasons, i think: -anaheim ducks -buffalo sabres -detroit red wings -montreal canadiens (would be my pick, i low key love them) -ottawa senators

AHL Recommendations

it can be super fun to follow an AHL team if you happen to live near one. tickets to AHL games are SUPER cheap, and the arenas are smaller and more intimate. you get to see some really talented players early in their career before they become superstars, and this can also help you pick a favorite player to follow (and thereby, later, a favorite nhl team) for their career! i love going to AHL games, and did that a lot in high school.

here's the list of AHL teams.

PWHL Recommendations

tragically, i have been so busy in 2024 so far that i haven't been able to get into the PWHL yet. however, i'd really like to, once i have a bit more time.

because the league is in its infancy, there are only six teams: -boston -minnesota -montreal -new york -ottawa -toronto

they don't currently have team names outside of the cities, but i think those are coming next season. for myself, i already know i'm going to be a montreal fan (i lived there for 5 years, and montreal's hockey culture is in my opinion the best in the world).

the pwhl is great for many reasons. -first of all, women athletes. let's fucking go!!! -second of all, we get things like two fiancees playing on the same team (on the same line!!) and celebrating together when they score a goal. -third of all, women's hockey has traditionally had a different ruleset from men's hockey to discourage the more...violent aspects of the sport. but the PWHL...has been honestly violent af so far, at least from the highlights i've seen. could be that hitting is still against the rules, but seems like the refs don't really give a shit, so the games are bloodthirsty lol -fourth, and perhaps most importantly, it is super easy and convenient to watch the PWHL. they stream every (!) game on their youtube channel for free!

for more info on the season schedule and how to watch, look here.

also, speaking generally, i'll probably be reblogging some pwhl content on tumblr so you can peep some of the people i'm reblogging and poke around until you find a team or player you like! :)

OK THAT'S IT SORRY FOR THIS LONG ASS POST I JUST WANTED TO ACTUALLY DO YOUR QUESTION JUSTICE, HOPEFULLY I DID AN OKAY JOB!! PLEASE ENJOY YOUR HOCKEY JOURNEY!!!!!!!!!! <3

[rivilu]

I read your notes about DAQ on that wyll vs dorian post and i just could not agree more. Specifically the thing about krem you said, i absolutely hate how the game while trying to introduce trans friendly concepts just. Forcibly makes your character cis in association. Like no my inquisitioner would not say any of that shit!!! He is trans!!!! And you could tell that shit was not written by a trans person. I think they were trying to avoid using many trans specific words to fit in with the setting but like? "Why do you pass?" Is not a question that makes sense for someone to ask and i hate that theyre taking an existing trans term and trying to make it mean like....the entire concept of transitioning?? Idk i feel like i would be more ok if they could have you be like "oh dw i am also trans" but nah we as the player are just assumed to be cis. Also yeah as you said, inventing transphobia in a series where that wasnt present before, its annoying.

Oh dont get me started I could talk about my gripes with the handling of transness in dragon age (and particularly inquisition) forever. Actually do get me started this has been a long time coming.

i absolutely hate how the game while trying to introduce trans friendly concepts just. Forcibly makes your character cis in association

YEP. Yep yes exactly. your options are 'three flavors of being transphobic' or 'when did you know' . which is what i picked, because you can stretch your imagination a little at least.

But there's also this other tiny elephant in the room issue with Krem that i didnt mention in those tags. Or should i say. Bull in the room ? Because holy shit, way to take away the trans character's speaking voice and characterization so we get to know how much of an ✨Ally ✨the cis man bestie is! Like okay if you're being a transphobic shithead it makes a bit More sense that he'd get defensive and speak up for Krem, but when your question was 'when did you know', Krem answers 'when i was young. not a great thing to know about yourself' and then Bull immediately cuts in to cisplain transness is like? What was the Idea there. Which then makes the dialogue choices being 90% straight up transphobia MORE suspicious, because the game is letting you, almost pushing you to verbally harass Krem.. almost like he doesn't REALLY matter, he's just a vessel to see how Progressive And Trans Friendly And A Good Friend Bull is. Thanks, i hate it.

Even in terms of backstory Bull being Krems savior when he was trying to escape his life etc never really sat right with me. Like there's an underlying demsel vibe i feel the devs stuck in there that really irks me. Not helped by the fact that we dont have a trans voice actor. Also not helped by the fact that this is a fantasy setting with magic but some form of magic hrt? Nah too impossible. Like sure there's some implication that it MIGHT exist somewhere but because magic Bad in the dragon age setting and tevinter magic Even Worse he wouldn't go for it- Like ok. some people might prefer their trans realism in faux medieval media. even fantasy. Im not one of those people. And all those justifications read more like excuses to me. Like you're telling me the circles wouldn't be making BANK out of selling trans-your-gender potions and abusing the shit out of it? And just. Again this makes the setting retroactively much Worse because where before i could point to my warden or Hawke and go 'yeah that's a trans man via magic hrt' and someone who prefers trans realism could ALSO do the same when making theirs how they like. Vagueness in such matters allows for imagination! But now dai is saying noo they had to be cis. And your inquisitor also. Fuck that.

Also yeah as you said, inventing transphobia in a series where that wasnt present before, its annoying.

one tiny correction here. there were hints of transphobia in the first two games, but it was mostly contained in like. Oghren style aged like milk type humor. more meta than text i guess. like in the Pearl in game one if you ask to be surprised there's a chance you get the ever hilarious 'haha you got man in a dress' *crickets* And then Serendipity in mark of the assassin.. well the wiki says she's meant to be a drag queen. So not 100% related to this discussion. But the execution of her character just felt SO mean spirited to me when i was playing that i felt it needed to be mentioned as well. (So i just love her out of spite now. ) But anyway yeah. Out of all the lgbtq things dragon age touches on i feel like gender is one that they. dont really even try to tackle in good faith. And it just got worse as the games went on. I can handle easily skippable side gags that are shitty and unfunny. Inquisition tries to actually bring ATTENTION to the topic, and proceeds to fall flat on its face. Not to mention Sera. Them having one of the main companions being transphobic in banter.

Bioware when I catch you Bioware. Bioware when i catch you.

[tetsunabouquet]

Basic Instinct Chapter 9,5

A/N: Alright, the original Chapter 9 was apparantly so long, it needs to be split into 3 parts. I'm hereby posting part 2 of Chapter 9. Masterpost

As the two of you entered the arcade, you grinned. "I'm so happy I brought my wallet after all. I've got my membership card with me. You don't mind your points being added to my already existing ones, don't you?" You asked. Akashi quickly shook his head. "No, if anything, its even better." In his head, he had a clear picture in mind, of winning every game and scoring all the points for you on your card and name. That panda certainly wouldn't be the only plushy you'd be taking home tonight. And thus, he recharged your game balance to be worth about 200 games. 'I doubt we're going to be playing that many. I wonder if he actually wants me to have leftovers for a next time on purpose.' You smiled besotted at your boyfriend, as he led you alongside the neon-lit machines. "Do you have a favorite?" "Well, I really like air hockey. It's not worth a lot of points, but I always have fun! You're probably beating me the moment you get a hang of it though." You said, predicting your flawless boyfriend to be amazing at air hockey within no time. "Shall we see how well you hold out as an opponent then?" Akashi teased, and you giggled as you pointed towards the familiar tables. True to your prediction, he bested you alright, and you could have swore he allowed you to make your final goal. You groaned as you looked at the ominous red numers, 3 - 10. "How about you watch as I beat the next game." Akashi continued to poke fun at you, and he winked. You rolled your eyes. "Fine, let's see how hard your going to crush the basketball game. Perhaps seeing you wreck the machine might be fun after all." You were still slightly pouting from the defeat, you usually won from your friends whenever you went. He draped his arm around your shoulder with a grin, and the two of you practically melted against each other. "Let's see if I can break the machine." The flashy basketball game was in the back of the arcade. You were grateful you were going to watch it. You still remembered playing it yourself once and accidentally having the ball bounce back so hard against the machine it flew across the arcade, your face red as you hurried behind it. It had been epically humiliating. But not this time. The game was already being played by two boys you figured had recently graduated from highschool. They seemed a little too old to be highschool students and one vaguely smelt of beer, but their faces were too youthful and boyish to pass for young men. The guy you assumed was tipsy looked at the two of you approaching and chuckled. "Hey cutie, wanna see our moves?" He asked you, blatantly ignoring Akashi. "I'd like that," You answered, much to Akashi's surprise. He wanted to turn around, but before he could let out his heartbroken WTF, you smiled at him. "After all, I wouldn't be properly appreciative of how cool my boyfriend's moves are if I cannot compare them to an amateur first." He would have bursted out in laughter if it wouldn't have been provoking these boys even more. He did not want to get into a fistfight on his first date, but god, he was living for you roasting people on his behalf. It fed into his already gigantic ego, and made him feel like he wanted to puff his chest. So before one of the enraged boys could do or say something, he stepped forward. "Let's see who beats who. How about I play a one on one with each of you?" "Alright, but if one of us wins, cutie will stay with us." They both grinned sexually, but you weren't fazed at all, and whilst Akashi was annoyed, he wasn't terrified either. Both of you knew Akashi would win, even if it was his first time trying to play by the arcade's basketball system. If anything, you were excited to see their faces when Akashi would crush them. "Okay, but if I win, I get to pick a prize with your membership points for my girlfriend."