#1) some people just HAVE to put their two cents in
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absolutely insane how people ignore all the tags AND the description AND the reviews on a manga just to go into the comments and act surprised,,, open your eyes please
#i mean ik they do it for several reasons#1) some people just HAVE to put their two cents in#2) they want to act morally superior for not liking whatever it's about#3) they want to be funny#but it's just... how do you say..... ANNOYING
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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).
I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.
Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!
Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1
[Pt.2]
——
Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.
He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.
His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.
He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.
“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”
Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.
“Stay still, you motherfucker!”
“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.
“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”
“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.
Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?
Huh. His options for dinner was limited.
“Take this!”
Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.
“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.
“Get him!”
God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.
Great.
Oh, speak of the devil!
“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.
He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.
“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.
The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.
“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”
“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”
“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”
“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”
The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.
“You have a lawyer?”
“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”
“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”
“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.
“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”
This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.
“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”
“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.
“Like, Dare Devil good.”
“You know Matt Murdock??”
“Sure do.”
“He… he’ll take on our cases?”
“Dang, all of you?”
“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”
“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”
“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”
“Got it. Sorry.”
Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.
And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.
“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.
And Spider-Man
F
E
L
L.
——
Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.
He twisted.
“Boss, what the fuck?!”
“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.
“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”
“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”
Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”
“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”
Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”
“I know!”
Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.
——
Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.
“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.
“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.
First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.
That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.
He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.
He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.
He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.
The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.
With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?
Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”
Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?
Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.
He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…
Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.
“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”
His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]
Peter stared at the words, gut churning.
Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.
Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.
“Fuck.”
He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.
——
Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.
“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”
Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.
He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.
“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.
“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”
Five things.
1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!
2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.
3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.
4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.
5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.
Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.
Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.
Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.
Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.
3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.
Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.
Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.
“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.
Now… People of Interest.
This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.
Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”
He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”
“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.
And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.
He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.
Subcategory B: Local celebrities.
“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.
“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”
“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.
“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”
Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.
Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.
Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.
Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.
So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.
Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”
And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.
And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.
Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.
He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.
For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.
He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!
Oh my god.
Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.
Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.
Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-
“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.
“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”
“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”
The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”
Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”
“Food, duh.”
“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”
The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”
“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”
“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”
Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.
“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”
Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.
“I’m Peter!”
“… Frank.”
He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.
“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”
Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.
“Uh. Hey.”
Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.
“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”
Peter chewed faster.
Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”
Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”
Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!
“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”
Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!
“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”
“That was easy.”
Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.
“Ow!”
“Whatever, shrimp.”
Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.
Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.
“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”
“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.
“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.
“You’re looking for a place?”
“Yeah? Why?”
Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”
Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.
“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”
“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.
“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”
“Dunno? Probably not.”
“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.
Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.
“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”
Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”
“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”
“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”
“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.
——
They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.
“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”
“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”
And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.
Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.
“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”
“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.
They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.
“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.
“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”
“No-” Frank had started.
“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.
“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”
Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.
“Uh.”
“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”
“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”
Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”
Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.
“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”
Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.
“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.
“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”
“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”
“I can use a cart.”
And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.
“Can you even reach the handle?”
“I’m not that short!”
Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.
“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.
“Okay!”
Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.
“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.
——
As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”
Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.
He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…
He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.
Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.
He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and
He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.
All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for
So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.
“Hey.”
Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”
Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.
“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”
“Rude. No, of course not.”
Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.
“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…
“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”
The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”
“Nice! We can eat on this!”
——
When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.
“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.
“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.
——
When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.
So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.
An hour later, he met his first vigilante.
“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”
“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.
“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.
Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”
“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?
“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”
Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”
“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.
“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”
“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.
“Photography buddy!” He cheered.
They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.
“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”
“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.
——
Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.
“Red Robin to Nightwing.”
“What’s up, Red?”
“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.
“… What?”
“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”
“Copy. Oh, that kid…”
“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”
“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”
“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”
“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.
“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.
“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.
“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.
——
Peter: lay low and get home
Also Peter: talks to a vigilante
None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.
#batman#peter parker#dc x marvel#Peter Parker gets yeeted into Gotham#spiderman#oc#red robin#dark matter#inspidered by the fic dark matter#yes that’s a pun#dick Grayson#nightwing#dick grayson is Richard Parker#richard parker#Oracle#Jason Todd#red hood#tfw you get conan’ed#Peter: making friends one roof top at a time#Spider in Gotham AU
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Not really a question, but I wanted to tag onto all the asks people have been sending about getting traction for their fics.
I’ve been writing fanfic for 10+ years now and I know that’s not a lot, and when I first started I was god-awful… but guess what? I was really popular for some reason and I didn’t know why. I guess people enjoyed what I wrote because I clearly had so much fun doing it when I look back on it.
But through the years, my writing has changed and my fandoms have changed. I now write for fandoms that are barely active or have little content to begin with. My last fic has 5 kudos and 2 comments, with 129 hits. Posted two months ago. And I have to ask myself: does it matter what the stats are, when I write for myself?
Before, when I was younger, I loved the validation and attention. Honestly even now, who doesn’t love validation? It tells you you’re good. But what I’ve learned after all this time is that I am good on my own and I don’t need someone to tell me that. I love my writing.
But the most important thing is that I know what my writing means to me and its worth. After all this time, my writing has become my safe space, my comfort zone, the place I can escape to when I am hurt, overjoyed, angry or incredibly sad. My writing is mine and no one can take that away from me.
So at the end of the day, the value of my writing is worth far more than some numbers on ao3 or fanfiction. So I guess what I want to say is: even if 1 person or 100 people read it, your writing is good on its own. You should be proud, because writing is not easy and putting it out there for others to read isn’t easier. The worth of your writing is what you believe it is, not what anyone else says or what numbers say. Just my 2 cents. <3
well said ❤️❤️❤️
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Akira Toriyama (1955-2024)
I wouldn't say I'm feeling better today, but I'm feeling less bad than yesterday. So let's see if I can put some words together.
In case anyone still hasn't heard, Dragon Ball creator Akira Toriyama passed away on March 1, 2024. This news was made public on March 7 or 8. I woke up early on Friday morning and found out while I was checking Twitter. I had a long, busy day at work, and I kept getting on my phone to scroll through fan reactions and tributes.
I think that, more than anything, is what's gotten me so worked up about his death. My Twitter timeline and my tumblr dashboard were just chock full of touching message and images about how Akira Toriyama's work has changed their lives. I wanted to write my own tribute, but I'm not sure what else I can say that hasn't already been expressed by Archie Comics, professional wrestling trio The New Day, and the Republic of El Salvador.
There's this immense, global community of fans, and it's easy to lose sight of just how big it is. It's easy to get bogged down in the infighting and petty squabbles. I saw one tweet responding to the criticism of Dragon Ball not being like this "entry level" franchise compared to other, more high brow anime and manga. It's popular with so many people, that critics will assume it's designed to appeal to the lowest-common-denominator. But the opposite is true! Dragon Ball is accessible, which is how so many people from so many different places and walks of life can get into it. The guy telling the story was such a master storyteller that he could grab an audience's attention and make it look easy. So easy that the haters would start to think that it was a trick, and he must be overrated.
Let me talk about this panel for a minute.
Last night I started going through the original manga, looking for panels to screencap. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I thought maybe a selection of panels that really stood out for me might be worth posting. I'll probably still do that one of these days, but I got to this one, where Gohan tells Chi-Chi about Goku's death, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
This was a powerful scene in the anime, of course, but in the comic it's even more profound. It's just one panel, no dialogue, because the reader already knows what's happening here. We know Gohan is telling his mother that Goku died in the Cell Games, and that he refuses to be wished back, because he thinks his presence on Earth will attract new enemies. It was hard enough to hear when Goku said it to Gohan and the others, and now Gohan has to relay that message to Goku's wife. All she can do is lie prostate on the floor and weep.
And look at the composition. She's surrounded by all that negative space. Gohan's there for her, but she still feels so alone, surrounded by her husband's absence. Pots of flour for food he'll never eat. An empty chair he might have sat in. Their son, who will have to grow up without him.
I saw this, as though for the first time, and it was so gut-wrenching that I had to post it by itself. I felt like it summed up my feelings better than any words could. We're all Chi-Chi in this panel, reacting to Akira Toriyama's death. And we're all Gohan too, each of us consoling one another with our own thoughts and tributes.
So what did Akira Toriyama mean to us all? Lots of people have answered this in a lot of different ways. Obviously his art, storytelling and cultural impact speak for themselves. I've seen people compare him to other luminaries like Jack Kirby and Osamu Tezuka. I'll try to add my own two cents with this:
I wrote a post about "Dragon Ball Daima" back when it was first announced, and I led off with this image of a note from Akira Toriyama. I guess this was from some big fancy presentation about Daima at a convention. I forget which one. In particular, I was skeptical that the Daima rumors were even true, and if they were, the whole idea seemed half-baked to me. Turning Goku into a kid had been done before, and it wasn't exactly successful the first time.
But this note from Toriyama was very reassuring to me. More than the trailer clips and character designs, this was what got me interested in the show. That's because he took the time to not only hype up the show, but also to explain what's going on behind the premise. He took the time to tell everyone that he's working on this show, and what "Daima" means, and why all the characters get turned into kids. It's "due to a conspiracy", and the good guys will have to "fix things". In short, he established a plot, conflict, and resolution to the story. He didn't just slap this together to sell new merch. I'm sure that was part of the motivation to make Daima, but there's more to it than that.
I think that's the loss I feel with Toriyama's passing. It's not that there won't be new Dragon Ball stories in the future. I'm sure others will continue telling their own versions long after I'm gone. I'm not that worried about the fate of Daima. I'm sure they'll figure something out, whether it's delayed, rewritten, or canceled. But we'll never see another message from Toriyama to promote a new project, and that's what I'll miss. From here on, his credit will just be an acknowledgement of his past contributions.
There's this great credibility with Akira Toriyama's name. Fans will argue about how involved he was in a project as a way of establishing how good or bad it was. Dragon Ball GT has his name on the credits, and he provided some designs and artwork early on, and for some fans that proves the series has his endorsement. For others, the sole problem with the show is that he wasn't directly writing the script. There's similar debates over Dragon Ball Super, where he was involved, but only writing those mysterious "notes". So if a fan doesn't like something in DBS, who do they blame? Did Toriyama lose his touch, or did his co-creators fumble the ball? Dragon Ball Evolution basically ignored all of Toriyama's advice and bombed, while Battle of Gods, Resurrection F, Broly, and Super Hero all put Toriyama's writing credits up at the very beginning, and each film made plenty of money. I read his comments on the Daima confirmation, and immediately thought "Okay, this should be pretty good. Akira Toriyama knows what's up."
That's gone now. I mean, there's still a lot of talent out there, but we'll never again have the little gas mask-wearing robot telling us that this story will be good because he worked on making it good. I don't think I really appreciated how much I trusted that guy until now. I still can't believe he's really gone.
I'll probably have more to say about this in the coming days, but I'll stop here for now. Thanks for letting me ramble a bit on this.
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that anon wasn’t me but they are absolutely correct and i feel like i should give my two cents worth about all of this among the sea of hate towards the nijisanji livers. i’m not bootlicking the company, but i feel like it’s hypocritical for people to sent hate to the talents after doki said MULTIPLE times not to since she was also a victim of such behavior (and plenty of dragoons no longer even feel safe in her community because of the immense amount of people who are only there to harass and don’t even care for her) this is a rant that just shows that the issue is gray and that we’ll never really know what’s going on as outsiders
tell the remaining members to graduate because their fanbase will follow them is stupid, acting like they didn’t work their asses off to get where they are and haven’t invested so much in their current persona. ike, elira, and vox are some of the most popular talents so that it makes sense for anycolor to force them into making the stream. saying that vox doesn’t care about mental health after his charity stream and saying that it was just for show need to shut up because we’ll never how how he’s really feeling behind the avatar. elira specifically doesn’t deserve the disproportionate amount of hate and disgusting things she received from it from what was essentially revenge porn to art of her being abused, have these people not been taught that if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all? it costs NOTHING to spam hate on your private account instead.
while i agree that the 2% merch sales and 1/4 (after youtube) of the supas should be raised, that doesn’t mean that the livers aren’t making any money and are poor as several of them have mentioned being able to pay off student loans and have turned their lives around with the money. while it sucks that selen made no profit after investing 200k into projects, maria has mentioned before that covers were more of passion gifts to fans rather than something to make money off of (i DO think that they should be paid for their projects, but that’s just how it goes unfortunately). last cup of coffee was taken down because she didn’t have all of the proper permissions and rushed posting it as a sweet gift to fans, management had full intentions to put it back up.
accusing livers of being bullies based on speculations is idiotic as it just hurts innocent people in the crossfire. these may just look like anime women and men to you, but they are REAL PEOPLE and streaming for nijisanji is their main livelihood! have some empathy, it’s hurting their mental health (the mental health some “dragoons” seem to care about so much)
this goes to say, i am on doki’s side because NO ONE should have to go what she went through, but i just want to show that there are two sides to a coin. i think that nijisanji needs better management, to allow their talents more freedom and a higher percentage of merch sales/supas, and stop treating their livers like shit! stop the harassment and move on, it’s what doki has mentioned multiple times that she wanted! don’t be one of the reasons another liver may have to go what she went through because you have an irrational hate boner for the company
also stream mani / gilty x gilty by maria marionette, finana ryugu, POMU RAINPUFF, meloco kyoran, and kotoka torahime
guys this shit right here
This right here
We need to like post this everywhere bc holy shit people need to understand
You are 100% right!! I agree with everything you just said, esp the "graduate and get out of the company" because they really did bust their asses off to get where they are now and it's a childish way of thinking
#chaotic.text#nijisanji#nijisanji en#vtuber#nijien#Kurosanji#Selen tatsuki#Vox akuma#elira pendora#ike eveland#Black company
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so you're the a (alastor x reader) ch 1
(a/n: so i've been posting this on ao3 for about a week and just decided to post on here too now. also i do not have a posting schedule im busy lol sorry)
summary: finding the radio at that thrift store may have completely changed the course of my life, but really i'm not complaining at all.
word count: 1,789
warnings: none i think (let me know if should add some!)
ao3 link
masterlist
Chapter One: thing of beauty
The cold wind of Chicgo bit at my face as I walked the short walk from my apartment to the thrift store. I’m not totally sure what I was going there to look for, but I just needed to get out of my apartment. The walk was pleasant because I’m a college student home at one o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday, so the sidewalks are barren. The store finally comes into view, and then I’m walking in. I greet the woman at the register, and immediately book it towards the trinkets in the back. I look through their selection of shot glasses and mugs, not seeing anything that I just had to have. I pace around the back of the store until I see this gorgeous antique radio. A radio would be great for background noise when I’m reading, and plus this was a thing of beauty. I may not have a lot of money, but I knew in my heart whatever price this radio was, it was coming home with me. I rushed over to pick it up so I could find the price, but before my eyes could land on the price tag they first saw a small ‘A’ carved into wood in the corner. Maybe it was like an Andy Toy Story situation, a cute little memory from a previous owner. Then I found the price, a solid $60 which I am truly willing to part with for this beautiful radio.
With an extra pep in my step, I made my way to the register to pay for my lovely new friend. I greeted the employee at the register once again, and she looked somewhat excited that I put the radio on the conveyor belt. “Has this been here long?” I asked because I was confused how someone would pass up this piece of art.
“Longer than me, pretty sure,” she shrugged, “all the employees here have made up our little stories about the history behind it.” She rang me up and the screen prompted me to put my card in, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get a sweet treat for a week or two but the radio was worth it. “It has been bought before though,” I furrowed my brow because what was wrong with this damn clock? But, to be honest I didn’t care if the radio even worked or not (I was hoping it did though) it was just beautiful. “The people always come back in basically begging us to buy it back, don’t even care for how much. One guy sold it to us for fifty cents one time.”
Now, normally I would not be caught dead with an object that people had been begging to return, and with the way the employee had been describing the situation the radio was definitely scaring the shit out of everybody that purchased it. But, for some reason I needed this radio. A little about me, I’m a textbook snobby english major. I love all things vintage, I think the classics are the greatest works in English literature, and hold a deep detestment for many aspects of modern culture. Yes, I am annoying.
“Mmm, something tells me I’ll be keeping it for the long haul.” I don’t know what possessed me to say something like this, but I’m just gonna go with it. I thank the employee and make my way out of the shop.
The walk home was much less brisk now that I was carrying this heavy radio, but I didn’t think about it much. I was just so excited. My roommate was out filming for some school project so I could fiddle with it when I got home.
After what feels like forever, I see the fence in front of my apartment. I whip out my keys, and put them in the lock of the first door and lock it behind me, while putting the key into the next door which leads to my apartment. I take off my shoes and lock the door. I walk over to the dining room table and put my purse down along with the radio so I can take my coat off. Once coatless, I grab the radio and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. I mess with the knobs and dials until I hear a crackle. “Yes!” I yelled, as I began switching through the stations, most of the stations I knew from the radio in my car were entirely static. After a couple of minutes I heard someone speaking, the voice was filtered through what sounded like a microphone from the early days of audio.
“Hello dearie!~” the strange voice spoke, I assumed it was a prerecorded file a station was playing. Like a radio version of the history channel. So, of course I didn’t speak back to the radio. Then, the voice came back, “I said…” a loud static started to emanate from the speaker, “Hello!”
My first thought was ‘fuck me, if this is a demon in here, I’m definitely going to fall for one of his traps’ I had just though about this a couple days ago, I want things! Sue me! And I’m not fucking with you two days ago I had been thinking about this shit and now here I am. Welp, I’m fucked, but still I carry on. And now I was sure I had completely lost my mind, so since that had already happened and I was obviously in the middle of an episode of psychosis, I decided to reply, “Oh! Umm I didn’t think you were speaking to me. My apologies!” Whoever this person who was speaking was, I definitely did NOT want him to be upset with me.
“Oh dear, oh dear! Far in the past now! You’ve got my radio!” I could tell whoever was speaking was smiling, I could hear in their voice.
“This is yours? It’s gorgeous, I can assume you’re the ‘A’ on the bottom of it.” I could have asked so many questions, but I went with this one. I’m not totally sure why, but I really want to know more about the strange voice.
“Alastor! That’s my name, sweetheart!” He seemed excited to introduce himself, and honestly I was just as excited as him.
“Hello Alastor! My name is Y/N! It’s nice to meet you! Where do you live, Alastor? I found the radio in Chicago!” Why was I telling this strange voice over a creepy radio where I live.
“Oh when I was alive, my home was New Orleans. Absolutely fantastic! It made it all the way to the Windy City!” My heart froze after his fifth word, hair standing up, goose pimples all over my skin, and a shock through my spine. When he was alive??? What the fuck does that mean? He’s definitely a demon, yep fuck me.
“Just to clarify, you did just say ‘when you were alive’ right? That wasn’t me hearing things, right?” I was hyperventilating out of my damn mind. I absolutely understood now why people had returned this freaky fucking radio
“Oh yes, of course, dear! I’m coming to you straight from Hell.” The way he said it like it was the most casual thing ever, had me feeling like I was overreacting to what he was saying.
“And you’re not messing with me?” After it came out of my mouth I heard him clench his teeth.
“Oh, now what is your impression of me that says I would do that to you?” He seems frustrated with my question, and that did not sit right with me. I was quick to appease him.
“No, no, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant by that, I promise!” I try to stop myself from spilling my guts to this man who I believe might be a demon, because the voice in my head was telling me giving personal information to a demon was probably not the best decision I could make, but I just couldn’t stop myself. “It’s just I never believed in an afterlife or a religion, so it’s just that you have just told me that hell is real and that is absolutely insane to me because now I’m terrified hell is horrible. Is it horrible? I mean I guess that’s the point?” I took a deep breath before I continued my word vomiting, but before I got the chance, Alastor began speaking again.
“Sweet girl~ please stop with the yammering…” His voice seemed like nectar to me, I could listen to him speak all day, “before we continue with our little back and forth, I am going to need to know what I’m getting out of this?” I immediately started thinking about the things I could offer him, not my soul. Wasn’t there just yet.
“What could you possibly want from me?” This was the most genuine question I had asked in a long time, I had absolutely nothing to offer him. I had money for groceries, rent, and utilities. Most of my possessions were books, he was in hell what use could he have for anything I could give him.
“I just adore your voice, little deer!” He was back to being his chirpy self, and it rubbed off on me making me feel a little calmer. “I’m sure you would love to continue our little chats, and in return I’d just like for you to read to me, from a book of your choosing of course.” I was trying not to let off how excited I was, I wanted him to feel like he was getting more out of this than he was. “I’m trusting you have immaculate taste, but give a couple of your favorites just so I can tell.”
After a few quick beats I respond with, “My favorite book of all time is Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, I’m a big fan of the classics, nineteenth century literature.”
“Oh how swell!” he seemed like he was buzzing with glee, “A beautiful voice with even better taste!” He seemed to chuckle to himself and as his laugh faded out his voice came back, “Well, dearest, I’m afraid I must be going for now! I’ll excuse your payment for today, but be ready for next time, my dear,” I took a deep breath at the thought of a next time, “When you want to contact me again, just tune back into this station, I’ll be able to tell. I won’t always be able to talk, but when I can I’ll be there in a jiffy!”
Before I could respond to him the static that accompanied his voice faded and it eventually became silent in my apartment once again. I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and leaned back into my couch.
(a/n: i've written five chapters so far i'll be posting the other four asap)
#alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor imagine#hazbin imagine#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor fic#hazbin fic#hazbin hotel fic
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Thoughts on Tim Bradford
I was thinking about some of the things we've seen about Tim over the years and boy, is it now making so much more sense. I know a lot of this has already been meta'd and have been very eloquently said. But I just needed to put my two cents in.
Let's start with what Isabelle said to Tim in 1x12. She never felt like she measured up to Tim because he saw things so black and white. Tim had no idea that she felt that way and never thought that about her. And I've always thought she was wrong and was just projecting her own sense of failure onto him. But now I'm re-thinking that stance. We know from 4x19 and 4x20 that Tim was involved in black ops when he was in Afghanistan. His whole "Reaper" persona is obviously from that time in his service. We know from so many things that have come out in the last couple of decades that those involved in those types of operations often blurred the lines of legal and moral. I think that once he returned stateside that his rigid moral code was part of how he dealt with his PTSD. He probably didn't even realize he was going that far. Think about it, he went from black ops to being "Eagle-eye", the cop that took every order literally and got his shop tagged while standing there. Someone who was involved in off book missions wouldn't naturally be that rigid. I think it was easy to fall back into that type of mindset because of his childhood. I'm sure he needed to have every duck in a row when he was younger to make sure he never did anything to set his dad off. But having seen and done some bad things in the midst of war, Tim had to default back to this to be able to integrate back into society. He's often scorned psychology over the years. So I imagine he dealt with the trauma of war on his own by becoming that black and white guy that Isabelle was talking about. It was only after Lucy entered his life and started challenging him to be a better man that he started to see those shades of grey that life is all about. Remember in 5x17 when he showed mercy to the Make a Dream kid's dad? Season 1 Tim would never. He even admitted that Lucy was a good influence. Chances are he would have mellowed over time, but I believe he still would have had a certain amount of rigidity. That's why he told Isabelle in 5x20 that Lucy was different. She showed him that he had to readjust his mindset to be a better man.
Another thing that struck me is how he is basically treating Lucy like his boot or aide right now. If it was Angela that knew something was up I could totally see it. He could possibly blow up her life and it wouldn't be worth it. She is his best friend, but not his life partner. I could even see it if this had happened circa 5x6 or 5x7 when Chenford was trying to find their way back to friendship. But things have changed. I know that "fierce protector" Tim will do anything to protect the people he loves. I mean he offered to take the fall for falsifying those after action reports so that his friend with a family wouldn't be affected. But Lucy is not a friend, not an old Army buddy or his boot or aide. She is the most important person in his life. The reason he has begun to heal from all of the trauma he has had to face. He can't hide this from her. I am hoping that he realizes that next episode. Cause as juicy as this angst is, I'm ready for it to be over.
One last thing, as hard as it is to watch them fighting, it's what Chenford needs. I think this is going to bring so much to the surface that they need to face. Now Lucy is getting a taste of what being the person left at home feels like when their partner is UC. I think Lucy is going to take Tim to task for the whole going behind her back with Grey thing. And they both are going to have to deal with their communication issues. I feel like they are only going to come out of this stronger.
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After the release of the official Nocturne trailer, we're all asking where Alucard is.
Here's my two cents and two theories:
Theory 1: The Years Got to Him
Being effectively immortal, Alucard would have watched Trevor and Sypha die, and then he inevitably would have watched their children die, and then their grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
How long would it have been before couldn't bear the thought of seeing another life he'd known since birth age and pass away? How many times did he recognize Sypha's laugh or Trevor's eyes in their descendants before he said, "No more. I can't do this any more."
So he puts himself to sleep with the instructions to the family to wake him 'in their darkest hour' or something like that. Over time, he becomes a family legend and then forgotten. In his absence, the Belmont village crumbles and disappears, taking with it all the knowledge and advancements its people.
Because as we know from the original series, humans forget.
...
Theory 2: The Belmonts Drove Him Out
I know what you're thinking: Trevor and Sypha would never. And you're right, they wouldn't. Their children and grandchildren probably wouldn't either. By the time we get to Christopher Belmont, he probably never met his great-grandparents, but he would know the stories and honor their memories.
But in the two hundred years between him and Richter?
The Belmonts are a long-lasting family, and like any other family, they can adapt and go through changes. They are subject to past traumas and prejudices, can lose sight of original purposes, or can straight up become corrupted by any number of things.
We see it with kings, emperors, CEOs, and even just regular families. All it takes is one asshole who chose to ignore the wisdom of his ancestors to ruin a good thing.
Say some Belmont down the line--Soleil, Simon, or Juste or anyone--lost someone important to a vampire and they swore vengeance on the entire race, as Dracula had once done on humanity. Alucard steps in to stop them and remind them of their history, and his words are met with a cold, "What do you know? You're just an old dhampir we should have done away with decades ago!"
This is just a scenario, but it is a possibility Alucard could have had a falling out with his family. Maybe they tried to kill him and he fled. Maybe they nearly succeeded in killing him and he sealed himself in his coffin to recover as he did in the original series.
He's no stranger to betrayal, after all.
This would depend heavily on the 'dear person' Olrox lost. Was their death warranted? Were they a menace to society and had to be put down?
Or have the Belmonts gone astray and Richter's mother killed them simply for existing? This option might be indicative as to why Olrox spared Richter. Killing a defenseless child would have saved him a lot of trouble in the future, but perhaps he chose to be better (the lesson learned in the original series) than the mother and risk the consequences later. Mother might have killed just because of a vampire, but Olrox refused to kill just because Richter was a Belmont.
...
Unrelated, but this could also be a set-up a 'break the chain of sorrow' trope in which this scenario played out: Richter's father was killed by Olrox's 'friend' for lack of a better word, Richter's mother then kills Olrox's lover out of vengeance, Olrox kills her out of vengeance, leaving Richter to either take vengeance himself or break the chain of sorrow by accepting that if this revenge continues, there will be nothing left but sorrow.
I'm probably putting way too much thought into all of this, but...there you go.
#castlevania#richter belmont#castlevania nocturne#trevor belmont#sypha belnades#alucard tepes#olrox#castlevania netflix#belmont family#predictions for nocturne
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something i really need to get off my chest even if i just post this privately is That i really dislike ‘caretakers’ in whump writing. or ‘whumper’ i feel like it makes a character (even if they’re just a hypothetical one) feel very 1 dimensional and it makes me so OKAY JUST HEAR ME OUT!!! whumpee i don’t mind much, it makes the prompt or what your talking about a little clearer. But it feels like it’s putting it into a box and making sort of roles which makes it feel less like a prompt and more like we’re in an omega verse fandom and i mean this really lovingly and affectionately and no hate to any of yall. I have a vast amount of characters and i write stories and books and I can say with out a shadow of a doubt, not ONE of them fall under ‘whumper’ or ‘caretaker’ because i develop them as their own individual character. Not even my antagonist are ‘whumpers’
So one of my main antagonists literally burns cigarettes on the MC and abuses the MC. Tries to kill her on her 18th birthday. Shes her mom, and the main character PHYSICALLY cannot leave that situation with out getting the authorities involved until she turns 18. Mom sounds like an ass, she beats ‘whumpee’ up! why would i NEVER call her a whumper? because she’s a whumpee by that logic. Her mom was extremely emotionally abusive, and half the time not fully there. Her shitty ass dad got murdered in front of her when she was just a kid. but Her mom isn’t a whumper either, because she too would be considered a whumpee. She was a world renowned flapper girl, everyone loved her. she LIVED for the fame and her face in newspapers. But behind the scenes she was actively ignoring her distant parents as they continued to try and marry her off. She was then forced into the marriage when she got pregnant with the guy (much so against her will which is why she killed him.) and ever since she’s been delusional and not fully there. It’s generational abuse.
more ramble under the cut + extra clarification on what I’m trying to say
okay but that’s just generational abuse right? There are other whumpers in the real world! Yeah i guess there’s sadists and serial killers, but like, there’s SOOOO much more guys.
I have a mini antagonist, he’s in highschool and he’s meant to be the toxic narcissistic ex of one of my characters. But he’s falling apart trying to get attention, he’s not fully aware of the damage he IS doing. Ass he may be but again behind the scenes he’s constantly fighting with his dad who refuses to do anything around the house and who is also transphobic (she’s bigender but i’ve been using he to make it less confusing right now) and now she has to take care of her little sister and act like a whole ass mom. As a sophomore. In high school. Not only that but her mom died, so she has to struggle with that. She’s just an annoying ass teenager, she doesn’t understand how to treat people or how she’s supposed to be handling what she’s dealing with. But getting attention and being liked at school? now that’s the shit. That’s like drugs for her. But to what lengths does she go to get that extra validation? He uses his boyfriend almost like an accessory. He’s not considerate of his feelings, and most likely doesn’t understand what a relationship is SUPPOSED to be.
Unless you’re making a sociopath character, which i LOVE a good sociopath character, you have to treat them like they also have humanity. Most of the time villains don’t just. Do shit to do it, they have some sort of background that lead up to this!!! And also even then with sociopaths they’re their own individual characters separate from the people they hurt!!! and also NONE of these are end all be alls and all characters must be developed this way!!!!
just my advice and stuff <3 i love all of you out there and i can understand why using certain roles and terms are the go to, and i’m not stopping you!!! i just really wanted to give my two cents so i can possibly help other writers!!!
#just my opinion#please don’t hate me#Please i swear to god I’m not looking to get harassed right now#BUT it’s been eating me for days and i just#I REALLY NEEDED TO RAMBLE#I rambled too much about my characters but 😘#whump inspiration#whump prompt#whump#whump angst#whump ideas#angst prompts#whump dynamics#whump community#whumpblr#whump tropes#whump writing#whumpee#ALSO feel free to take as much inspo from my ocs#straight up copy them completely for a first draft#not design but like#Make an exact copy of benny but diff design as a starter oc#fuck i’d be flattered and also it’s really good for beginners#it’s ramble monday
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HI!!! I’m super super new, and i just browsed through the tags for Dadstaticradio AU, CATCF AU and Radio Guard AU and need to say that i am sooo obsessed with them!! I certainly plan on browsing all the other AUs (especially secretly married AU, i am very excited about that one), but it is very late where i live (*cough* 1 AM *cough*) and i want to go to bed soon, so they’ll have to wait for tomorrow (well, “tomorrow”).
But before i do retire to bed, i would like to put my own two cents in, because i am soo happy i found a place where i can finally share my little ideas and stories!! (I do hope i don’t annoy anyone, I apologize if i do 😭).
Basically, it’s a radiostatic AU. Of course. And it might sound a lot similiar to the secretly married AU from what i gathered about it, but how i mentioned earlier, i haven’t checked that one out yet + this AU has been brewing in my head for maybe like… two weeks??
It goes with the trope of Alastor and Vox getting married way before Alastor disappears for 7 years. I’m not sure if they’d be exactly public, but i like to imagine they would like to keep their relationship to themselves but wouldn’t be exactly insistent on hiding it either. But, that isn’t the main thing about this AU.
The plot revolves all around Alastor’s disappearance. The reason why he disappeared in the first place.
Because of Vox.
And let me get this straight, i do not have this fleshed out at ALL. Like, it’s just a little concept i have. But the premise is that maybe some really powerful Overlord wants to take advantage of Alastor and his power, and make Alastor work for them. They would be trying to find Alastor’s weakness, because goddammit everyone has one, so what’s his deal? but being unsuccessful for a long time. Until one day, they notice Alastor’s interaction with Vox. And they start observing them. Which leads them to conclude that, Vox is Alastor’s weakness. So they build this really elaborate plan, where they threaten Alastor that if he doesn’t work for them, they’ll bring harm to Vox. Alastor tries to find out an escape at first, but the Overlord has been preparing for a long time for this and that leaves Alastor with no other choice than to comply.
So, Alastor finds himself in a deal. His soul for Vox’s safety. The Overlord doesn’t wait any longer and takes Alastor to god knows where, making him disappear for 7 years. And the worst part? Alastor isn’t allowed to tell Vox anything, lest he reveals his deal and risks Vox safety.
At first, Vox is worried for Alastor. Because what if something happened to him? But he later acknowledges, through his bond with Alastor (i kind of hc that when u marry someone in hell, you bind your soul to them) that Alastor is completely fine and (relatively?!?) safe. Making Vox believe that Alastor just straight up left without a word. So he grows angry and frustrated and swears Alastor as his enemy (even though he could never actually hate him. Not his Alastor. It’s just the hurt speaking). And when Alastor comes back, he’s not met with love, but with blind rage.
So, for both his and Vox’s sake, he plays along. Pretends to be Vox’s biggest rival and enemy. Even though it hurts more than he could ever imagine.
Hi !! Always v happy to hear new people are enjoying things, and dw no one is annoying here, all ideas are welcome
"Vox is Alastor's weakness" punched me in the chest /pos, I'm such a sucker for self-sacrifice especially if the second person doesn't understand why they did it
Also the idea of marriage in hell being a soul bond is so. Amazing. I have no words for it
Love this love this
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Responding to the “you are a fake squirrelflight fan if you want her to retire from leadership” discussion. Here are my two cents as a Squirrelflight fan myself.
First, I thought we left behind the behavior of what makes a “real” and “fake” fan? It’s outdated and alienates people within the fandom especially with the egregious expectations people have for someone to be called a “real fan.”
Second, this is why some of us Squirrelflight fans want her to retire.
To put it blunt, we are sick of the Erins’ crappy writing that keeps enforcing that Squirrelflight gets constantly framed as in the wrong and also abused. Even an Erin who admitted she hated Squirrelflight was allowed to write I believe it was Bramblestar’s Storm(?) and basically beat on her. Squirrelflight is put through time and time again so much pressure and heartbreak that I’m surprised she is still standing, but I am grateful she is.
Allowing her to retire could give her a chance at a calmer lifestyle. After everything she has gone through; she and Bramblestar’s mateship, Ashfur, the whole story with her sister and her sister’s kits, and now even StarClan giving her a trial to even be allowed into StarClan, she deserves a break. I can’t imagine that leadership would be kind to her in the long run as cats will continue to wrongly judge her thanks to the Erins’ writing. Even during the broken code arc, cats didn’t listen to her temporary leadership.
Yes, leadership is something she had dreamed of since kithood. But the cost of the mental, physical, and emotional labor that it comes with coupled with whatever the Erins could plot next for her is terrifying. I don’t want Squirrelflight to be a punching bag for the Erins’ weird writing that excuses toms and punishes she-cats. I want them to stop beating on her and let her actually live her life and enjoy it.
Even in the current arc, I have seen both Squirrelflight fans and haters rag on her for how she is handling leadership right now and dealing with the Splashtail (1)
plotline.
Squirrelflight is a character that means something to most people. I wouldn’t doubt that it is worrisome with how the Erins continue to write her and mischaracterize her how they see fit in order to make another narrative “correct”, even villainizing her in some aspects.
In conclusion, the fans who want her to retire are the fans who love Squirrelflight enough that we don’t want her to be another cat’s victim. We want her to be happy, find peace, and finally feel like she can just breathe.
Retirement or at least allowing her to have a choice in stepping down from deputy/leadership positions grants her more autonomy than the Erins and arguably Bramblestar have ever done. I feel like if Ivypool steps up to be Ivystar, she can be more at peace as I feel like she remained deputy even putting up with Bramblestar’s shit in order to ensure her Clan would be in safe claws. It isn’t out of character for her to care about her Clan and loved ones that deeply.
Sorry for the long rant, but that’s my view on it.
Sorry want to also add to my Squirrelflight essay basically if she is “out of the spotlight” from the Erins grasp, she can be considered safer. They won’t be able to paint her as a villain or mischaracterize her as much, and thus we can feel better about our poor girl.
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THE Yugo defense post.
I am (hopefully) very confident in saying that there are probably a lot of these types of posts lying around, but since the argument has never been truly put to rest even after the show's finale, I feel like it's truly time for someone to give his own two cents again and take a stand against Yugo's haters, because by Osamodas that child cannot catch a break.
(Also I haven't seen season 4 but I know a couple of things about it, but I will focus mostly on 1 to 3 plus The quest for the six Elatrope Dofus).
So I am going to start this post by talking about my own personal character arc in learning to love Yugo, because oh boy, it was a wild and unexpected journey for me. Now, I, personally, am someone who tends to prefer villains and antagonists over heroes and protagonists. That's not uncommon, plenty of people are like that, no, I don't want a spinoff that turns the villain into the protagonist because that would make them less interesting as now we need to learn almost everything about them in order for the story to keep our attention. Therefore, as you can imagine, Nox was my selling ticket for the show. I got the small, almost non existent hype around him and it got me interested. Season 1 ended, it was a banger, but at the time, all I got to think about was Nox and how much I was grieving him. I didn't really think about anything else regarding the season, all I got was him and his arc. I needed a way to overcome the grief, so eventually, I learned that season 2 also had a pretty good villain, so I said "hey, let's use the possible trauma caused by this new baddie to overcome the trauma caused by the previous one" and started watching season 2. Love love love Qilby. And I am going to bring it back up later, but the season 2 finale is the definitive moment where I became invested with Yugo and got deeply interested in him. Eventually, when I watched The quest for the six Elatrope Dofus, I was just deeply in love with him, rooting for him at every turn, and generally, just cheering the guy.
And then.... there it comes season 3. My Iop. I was already spoiled by the fact that season 3 was disappointing, so I kept my expectations as low as possible, but sweet home Alabama I was not prepared at all, if the season had just been bad I would have called it a day, but no, the season is wasted potential at its finest, so many incredible ideas rushed and fumbled, Oropo would have been my favourite villain in the show had he been written better and preplanned, he feels like the Bradford Buzzard of Wakfu and his Brotherhood is its F.O.W.L.
However, while the writing took a nose dive in season 3, I started to realise something that I didn't notice before: damn, I really care about the main cast. Not just Yugo. All of them. This is something that distinguishes Wakfu from other shows: most of the time, writers focus more on making the protagonists immediately likable and interesting, which makes sense, as they are the cornerstone of most stories, but Wakfu differs in the way it endears us to its cast since I didn't feel like the show made a great effort in investing us to the protagonists in the first two episodes, they introduced their personality, quirks, and characteristics, but they didn't show us their struggles beyond Pin Pin's quabble with Rubilax, and this creates the ripple effect later on in the show where you become surprised in your backwards investment of their journey, because that's not how the story started with and yet you can clearly discern their development quite a lot.
And this brings us to Yugo, whose Wakfu untraditional deuteragonism creates a weird case of main character where, the actual season focuses on Tristepan and his journey, but since Sadlygrove is also his own worst enemy with the exception of Dark Vlad, the actual main villain of the season is a foil for Yugo and develops him into a more mature individual.
Which, finally, brings us to the main reason of hatred from some (fake) fans: the villains. The villains in Wakfu tend to be very complex and compelling, while in contrast, Yugo stays mostly static and simple before being confronted with said opponent; then for specific cases of flandarized vitriol, we have:
- Yugo did not try to talk out Nox from his plan nor did he console him, which led to his demise (Pure evil).
- Yugo willingly locked Qilby in the White Dimension again with full knowledge of the reasons why Qilby did what he did (Jerk).
- Yugo accidentally (but not really) created Oropo which caused insane damage to the world of twelve and created all of the problems of the series up to this point (Meh. Still an absentee abusive father).
- Yugo limited himself to locking up the Necromes to starve for eternity rather than killing all of them (Ok).
And I am going to run through each and every single one of them.
- First: Yugo did not know anything about Nox but he killed off Grougaloragran earlier on and his Time Razor just killed Yugo's friend a couple of minutes before their fight, which led Yugo, a child, to his very first fit of rage and did not esitate or waste time to attack Nox, a dangerous murderer who wanted to steal his hat. But when he finally realised what Nox's plan was, he told the Sadida warriors to back off, but since it was already too late for him, Nox left the battlefield of his own volition and ended his life.
- Second: Qilby was a great bastard. A complicated and caring one, but a jerk nonetheless. And yet, Yugo knew and deeply felt that even he didn't deserve to be in the White Dimension, one of the most cruel and gruesome fates any villain could face, but he had no other choice, because if he didn't do that, Qilby would have destroyed the world. And even then, later on in the series the thing that Yugo hated Qilby the most about was not anything that he did, but rather the punishment that he forced Yugo to inflict on him.
- Third: Oropo is just a freak show of a writing mess that I can't even point out how much Yugo is to blame for his condition, at least Yugo feels bad about the Eliotropes, so there, Yugo feels empathy.
- Fourth: Sorry, didn't watch season 4, but again, I assume it was like a binary choice like season 2, Yugo is definitely more of law enforcer despite his carefree nature, he was destined to become King and he just accepts it, in contrast to Amalia's rebelliousness and lack of a forced incoronation (opposite attract each other).
Amalia's going to die one day, and Yugo's going to live for thousands of years and never abolish or question the monarchy. It's sad, but his existence is pretty sad.
As for people claiming that Yugo's an overpowered Gary Sue, I'm sorry but as long as a character faces struggles in any meaningful way then you can't claim that they just break the narrative.
#wakfu yugo#wakfu osamodas#wakfu nox#wakfu qilby#wakfu iop#wakfu oropo#wakfu percedal#wakfu amalia#wakfu season 1#wakfu season 2#wakfu season 3#wakfu season 4#duckverse#ducktales 2017#ducktales bradford#bradford buzzard#character analysis
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Hello! My Blog isn't aspec related so I thought I'd share my two cents here
The recent aro hate on this website is INSANE. As someone who is new to tumblr, seeing this in a predominantly queer-centred website is unfathomable.
Equating aro people to "no strings attached" is illogical and stems from the allo-amato notion that there are strings to be attached in the first place. Physical pleasure and emotional fulfilment are two completely separate concepts.
Portraying cishet aro men as people who are just leading on the poor women infantilizes women. This is just misogyny packed as discourse. If a cishet aro person is indeed being a dickhead, they're just a dickhead and we can all call them out on that like we call out any other dickhead
To the queer people equating aromanticism to pedophilia, how do y'all not remember that how gay men were treated back in the day? How we were cordoned off from society to "protect the children"? Do better, people
To the aspec people being accused of doing this just to be able to use a slur, fuck that. The exclsionists seem to have forgotten what a reclaimed slur means, or what queer means. Queer simply mean strange. Have they.. forgotten that aroace people are the queerest ones out there. Challenging not only heteronormativity but also allonormatovity and amatonormativity. They're the ones being called weird for not dating or having crushes or swooning over the random hot guy on the street or fantasizing about a white wedding. The ones treated as immature by their peers for not having a partner yet. And people think they aren't queer?
Fuck the exclsionists. I LOVE your posts. I'm sure I'm surrounded by people hating in anon in your ask box and I'm sending them all the hate in my heart. I love your blog and the aro community is one of the most inclusive I've seen on here. Love y'all and stay strongggg
ok so I'm very sleepy and my brain is like some sort of sauce currently so I'm gonna put numbers before each thing I say bc it's easier, don't worry about it
1 thank you for sharing your two cents, I think I agree with everything you said (can't be sure bc my brain is some sort of sauce currently but I'm sure I'd have noticed if I disagreed)
2 I want to go on The Slur Rant (tm) so bad but the internet is simply not prepared for it and I would rather not have to deal with the annoying fucks who'd disagree with me. not sure why I said this or why I got so aggressive at the end of that last sentence but here we are.
3 I'm sure there was something else I wanted to say before what I'm gonna say next but I forgot, sorry
4 my dude you are not in fact surrounded by hate in my askbox!! there's actually more nice messages than anything else <2 and also whenever I get anon hate I just block on sight now so it's fine. but yeah I would like to thank everyone for the kind words and everything. I love yall except for the ones who rather I didn't, in which case take your pick, we got uhhh cherish, appreciate, like but stronger, and. :3 (<- consider this a verb).
5 thank youuuuuuuu <222
6 sorry I took a while to answer this ask hope you see it even though I'm posting this at horrible hours gdhdjdjdk
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Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 7) 18+
(Pictures found on pinterest/google. Collage made by me 🌺)
Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹
Chapter seven is online 🖤 You have been with me through so many chapters now, suffering along with the characters. Y'all are so great! Thank you for your support, that means so much to me. You have no idea 🖤
Tag list: @fangirl-ramblings @rose-of-black-blood @livingdeadgirly @coaxium-captain-rex @12timetraveler @butterballchannie @charlesjaviersimp @ashethesimp @planetahmane @snoowply @sylum @noodle-tm @karmashatty @nadnad09 @lill2350 @slightlyexpiredyogurt8 @natnuszsstuff @boniscute @books-arebetterthan-boys @pedropascalluvr69 @blackrosegarden6 @sie-werden-nie-vergessen @inlovewithjavierescuella @red-dead-flowers @ezzythereal1 @livvnob @rayeee10101 @mrsescuella22 @javiersgff @vnyxv1 @blue-buttercup
If anyone of you want to be tagged to not miss the newest chapter, please let me know 🙏 Thanks 🖤
👉Read Part 1 /Read Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Summary: Where happiness is, the devil is not far away. And he sends his demons to torment those who have found happiness...
Warning: Trigger Warning! Rape! Read at your own risk! Huge angst alert!
Words: 1574
Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 7) 18+
It was very late at night and you were still lying wide awake in your bed. Outside it was storming and raining like crazy. It was always uncomfortable for you when thunderstorms were coming; you just felt uncomfortable. Every time it rumbled, you winced, and you could never understand how some people could see that as relaxation. Javier was such a person who could fall asleep very well during thunderstorms.
Javier had been gone for a week now and of course, you missed him. But on the other hand, you were very proud of him, because he worked really hard to earn his money and to start a new life together you needed every cent. The dress you had made for Mrs. Hantoon had brought you good money and she had been so enthusiastic about your work that she had told her friends all about your skills and you could be sure to get more requests soon.
Since there was no point in tossing and turning in bed to find sleep, you get yourself up out of bed. You turn on the light by lighting an oil lamp, and put on your robe before leaving the bedroom. You felt the need to eat something small. Sometimes hunger came at night and you couldn't do anything to get rid of that feeling; or rather, you didn't want to do anything about it. What was wrong with satisfying your hunger? You still had some oatmeal cookies in the tin and you were looking forward to enjoying them with a cup of tea. You were a bit surprised when you saw a burning oil lamp on the dining table. Have you forgotten about it? This was not typical for you, but on the other hand you were alone in this house.
However, you noticed a strange smell that you could not inhale at all and a strange feeling came over you immediately.
You carefully placed the oil lamp in your hand on the table and carefully observed your surroundings. Something told you to leave this house immediately, but it was already too late.
You stopped, transfixed, when suddenly dark voices spoke to you and the shadows slowly formed into two men. Two strange men you had never seen before. Instantly you recoil and the only thought you have right now is the shotgun hanging on the wall that was within your reach. But you knew you had to be careful because these strangers were also armed and you would have a bullet between your eyes faster than you would reach your shotgun.
"What are you doing in my house?"
"We're just here for Mister Escuella."
"Javier? What business do you have with my man?"
They both laughed. They were the same men who had watched Javier and you from a safe distance some time ago. Cole was waiting outside for his men. Javier was not the priority right now; Angel Eyes wanted you, for he knew that Javier would come to him once you were his prisoner. Still, he wouldn't make it quite so easy for Javier to find you...
"There is someone, including us, who has unfinished business with Javier. To find you here is a great pleasure for us."
"You better go now."
But the men were not intimidated by you, they were more amused at your attempt to force them out of the house.
"We don't take orders from women."
Henry, the big, robust man who looked like a bear, approached you and you could smell strong alcohol on his breath coming out of his mouth. You instantly felt sick.
"Sam, go to Cole. I'll be with you in a minute with this fine woman."
"What, you want her all to yourself?"
"Get the fuck out of here! I will fuck this whore's pretty pussy good! I've got priority! You can have her afterwards!"
"No!" you scream at the men in panic and horror.
"Now go!"
Reluctantly, Sam left, unable to argue his case as he was last in the gang hierarchy and so he had no choice but to listen to Henry and reluctantly left the house.
You didn't care what would happen if you reached for your shotgun now, because you wouldn't let those bastards violate you! But Henry immediately reached for you, lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. He sets you down on the dining table and you instantly fight back as he pushes himself between your legs. He wastes no time in pushing your nightgown over your legs. Immediately you hit him and scratched his face, which made him very angry. Without warning he hit you in the face, pressing your entire body on the wooden table and you scream aloud.
"Don't touch me! NO!"
You were scared and you panicked, because this man would rape you and there was nothing you could do about it.
"Hold still, little bitch!"
Another slap and the pain almost made you go numb.
"No... no..."
As he forcefully penetrated you, you screamed in pain and you couldn't believe what just was happening. This man was brutal and your whole body stiffened. He got what he wanted, yet you tried to escape him, but he kept pulling you back against him.
"You dirty bastard! Stop it!"
You instantly remembered the oil lamp that was placed on the table, just a few centimeters away from you and you tried to reach for it, over and over again, but with each of his brutal thrusts you were pulled towards him again.
"Yes, you like that, don't you?! Does Javier fuck you that well?! Whore!"
You manage to grab the oil lamp and hit him right in the face with it, whereupon your tormentor cries out in pain, because you just burned half his face. The one moment where he lets go of you is enough for you to get your shotgun and you didn't hesitate, but you knew it wasn't loaded. Still, you managed to intimidate him with it. He remained standing on the spot as you threatened him with a look of rage.
"Get out of here, you bastard. Or I'll blow your brain to pieces!"
But everything was about to go wrong for you tonight because, in the next moment, another man entered your home. It was Cole and immediately you aimed at him too, but he wasn't so easily to fool.
"Miss."
He took off his hat at the greeting and you could only shake your head as this behavior was absolutely inappropriate and ridiculous.
"Henry, what did you do to that lady?"
"What?! That fucking whore! Look at my face! I'll kill her!"
"You will do nothing of the sort. Calm down."
Cole was calm, relaxed. He was a man who was cold, who had no compassion for others. He always did a job cleanly and without detours.
"Miss, put the gun down before I'm forced to shoot you."
"GET OUT! YOU BASTARDS! OR I'LL KILL YOU BOTH!"
"We both know your shotgun isn't loaded."
Cole was very sure of himself. He pulled off his fine leather glove as he approached you and you knew you wouldn't get out of this desperate situation...
♦♦♦♦
"Javier, thank you for your help. You did a fantastic job!"
"Thank you, Mister Hazard."
"George. Just call me George."
The man's sympathetic smile was infectious and made Javier return it. He really couldn't have picked a better boss.
It was just before sunset when the two men took another walk down to the lake.
"Ah, I could use a good beer right about now. How about you, Javier?"
"Yeah, sounds good!"
"Let's head on over to Billy's then."
Javier and George enjoyed the sunset for a moment longer. It was quiet and peaceful around them.
"George?"
Javier gazed out into the lake, also looking at the sky, which was turning the most beautiful shades of red as the sun slowly set. Leaning against the wooden railing, he relaxed.
"Huh?"
"I still wanted to thank you."
George didn't know why or for what, so he looked at him a little confused at first.
"For what, Javier?"
"For clearing my head. But also for taking me in, giving me a chance to start a new life."
But George just smiled and grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it softly.
"Don't mention it, Javier."
Real life was just beginning for Javier and you, and he would do anything so you could have a happy life, too. And who knew if you wouldn't become parents again? The desire was deeply rooted in Javier, but that was a very sensitive subject for both of you...
It was still dark when Javier saddled his horse in the early morning hours and started his journey home. He wanted to be with you as soon as possible. With a smile on his lips, he thought of you and he couldn't wait to hold you in his arms. It occurred to him that he could get you another gift, because he had earned really well for his last job and he wanted to make you happy. Maybe a big bouquet of red roses? And something sweet to go with it? And another beautiful necklace? In Blackwater he would surely find what he was looking for in jewelry! Javier smiled a little, because he simply enjoyed making you happy. He would have some time to think of something nice.
Javier didn't even suspect what terrible thing had happened...
#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#fanfiction#javier escuella#javier escuella x female reader#female reader#y/n reader#drama#angst#writers on tumblr#my fanfictions
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On the subject of “bad studios”… sorry this is a little long …
I wanna preface by saying I’m not trying to make excuses for studios nor am I trying to discredit or blame any victims of workplace neglect/abuse who have spoken out.
All that said I’ve seen a continuous trend that I feel I need to voice. And it’s mainly around two areas: 1. Folks not being aware of how a studio is being run and instead reacting to their personal perceptions, and 2. Workers expecting “too much” from a small studio.
In a perfect world, everyone would have all the access and money they need to treat their workers with complete and absolute stability and comfort. But we don’t live in that world.
For 1, especially if workers or critics do not have industry experience they can only react to their personal perceptions of events or assumptions. And we have a LOT of young green artists entering right now. Best comparison I can think is if a studio hires you as a contractor and then later you go on to say “they won’t even pay my medical bills and that’s wrong” it’s not “wrong”, that’s quite frankly the norm for contract work.
Does it suck that that’s the norm? Yes. Have the employers committed neglect by not including health insurance in contract work? No.
For 2, small studios have to cut a lot of corners due to their size and even if they don’t they simply cannot function like a big studio, they don’t have the resources to. This can result in a lot of poor choices in attempts to make up for that, and general workplace drama and stress, especially if they are trying to function like a big studio w/o the resources to do so. But if you as a worker know what to expect going in (that it’s not going to be a perfect experience at a small studio and chances are you can’t bank on it for genuine financial support) you’re more likely to avoid that drama/stress or at least be prepared for it.
All that said there’s definitely exceptions to these rules especially when a studio/higher ups at the studio are unprofessional and/or inexperienced. There’s simply a threshold that needs to be kept in mind of “is this to be expected” and “is there a pattern of problems.”
In a case like Glitch, we have some details coming out, so we can put our guard up and keep an eye out to see if worse details come out and a pattern forms.
In a case like Spindlehorse, we’ve had more than enough people speak up about working there that’s been a continual pattern. They could’ve been excused from some things their first few years getting their footing—but it’s been far too long and they should know better by now rather than continuing with obvious foundation issues.
In a case like Lackadaisy, we haven’t really seen any folks speak up about poor working conditions, but we have seen leaders who are very transparent, professional, and humble about the mistakes they’ve made/weaknesses they have and what they’re doing about them to improve.
Just wanted to share all that.
I think one very important thing people don't keep in mind is that not all indie studios are created equal. You've got productions like Far-Fetched and Monkey Wrench where every last cent the creators can possibly spare is going into it, and there's an expectation that pay is probably going to be low. There's Lackadaisy, which is a lot better off but still not exactly rolling in it, but extremely committed to doing right by its employees.
Then there's Spindlehorse and Glitch, which can absolutely afford to pay and treat their employees better, they just don't want to.
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Mads, I've been Autistic about what breed(s) of dog the FireFam could be and even if you don't like interact w this post I just would like to make you laugh- I may have to post multiples b/c there's A Lot. Ok, so, Bobby is a yellow lab a la Shadow from Homeward Bound and I will die on that hill. Athena is, obv, a Dobie- she's stunning, but a softy for her family but she also makes smiling look like a threat. (1/?)
Thank you for your patience dear I was rushing to finish the F&F AU and was also rather busy this weekend in general. I'm including your other three asks here as screenshots and this all is going to get a bit long so I'm putting everything below a cut to spare people's dashes!
FIRST OF ALL, HOW DARE YOU. HOW FUCKING DARE YOU.
SHADOW FROM HOMEWARD BOUND!?
I'M GOING TO DROWN IN MY OWN TEARS.
WHEN THE KID IS LIKE OH MAYBE HE WAS TOO OLD AND THEN SHADOW APPEARS BECAUSE HE'S GOING TO COME HOME TO HIS BOY NO MATTER WHAT!!!! G O D
I NEED TO BE SEDATED!!!!
Ahem.
STICK A LITTLE CROWN ON HER AND CALL HER ATHENA!
I babysat for a family that had a Doberman and he was truly a sweetheart. So protective of me and would stay glued to my side while I was there. "A softie for her family but makes smiling look like a threat" is soooooo Athena.
oh my GOD I'm DYING
Look at this baby. Pure fucking ADHD right here. *pats puppy* This guy can fit SO much anxiety and innate need to be of use in him!
I'M FUCKING HOWLING OVER EDDIE. LOOK YOU'RE NOT... YOU'RE NOT WRONG ABOUT THE CORGI COMMENT. THERE ARE TEARS IN MY EYES. BUT.
This is still Eddie in my opinion.
Someone send that bit about Chim to Kenneth Choi I think he'd find it hysterical.
BEHOLD. CHIMNEY HAN. Look at those EARS.
I also personally could see Chim as a greyhound or a whippet.
Chim's just got this fastness about him that makes me think of that kind of dog. Is this me remembering how he literally just SPRINTED away from Albert while playing basketball because he panicked about lying? Maybe. You can't prove anything.
I had to remind myself what a Chow Chow is and OHMYGOD IT'S SO FLUFFY???
However I always saw Hen as a Great Pyrenees.
These things will fuck you UP. They're flock dogs but not in the Border Collie sense. They don't herd. They kill the predators that try to go after the flock. They will chase down the wolves and destroy them. And they are super super SUPER protective of and gentle with kids. They ADORE kids. So that's my two cents there!
Ohmygod Maddie is SUCH a Border Collie.
INCH resting that you say Standard Poodle for Karen...
Poodles are actually what my mom grew up with and she's always talked about how smart and wonderful they are, she's owned three in her lifetime and adores them. I know they kinda have this stereotype of being snooty but I think they're great and they ARE so fucking smart holy shit. They're smarter than some humans I've met.
However. Chris.
I'm gonna have to fight you (lovingly) on this one, Nonny.
I will say that when I googled this dog I laughed so fucking hard my ribs hurt. I CRIED.
They are very cute as puppies!
However. I must counter-argue and say that Christopher is...
AN ENGLISH CREAM DACHSHUND
*sobbing* look at how CUTE it is!!!!!
*continues sobbing over the cute*
Anyway thus concludes the nonny's opinions, and mine! I had a good laugh over this series of asks, thank you nonny. I hope you had a good weekend.
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