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#AND IN MY DEFENSE *runs away*
flovoid · 2 months
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What a good thing we lose? What a bad thing we knew ♬
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landlordevil · 4 months
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I've got to feed to prove I'm fit
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mokulule · 1 year
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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 6
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5
Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence
Bruce sighed, absently feeling the air on his hands folded in front of his face. He stared unseeingly ahead. His frowned deeply, at a loss of what to do. Worry picked at his self control.
Something was up with Jason. Ever since the other night, something had happened between the thief and Jason. It had left him unsettled and off balance, that much was obvious. They’d all been able to see it.
Now, today, Jason had lost control. He’d been agitated of course, but Bruce hadn’t expected the outburst. Jason was usually good at managing his anger these days, at least in the family. He didn’t get physical with them anymore in anger. Except today Jason had suddenly pulled him up by the shirt, and Bruce had honestly expected him to punch him. Jason had shaken it off, but then he’d fled.
The urge to move, to do something, itched at him. He wanted to get answers, but confronting Jason was out of the question. Their truce was fragile, and it seemed every time he spoke to Jason he said the wrong thing. He didn’t know what to do except control the urge to go after his son. He couldn’t fight his demons for him. He could only try not to make it worse.
And so he sat there, staring, unseeing.
Dick’s footsteps, came down the stairs, easily recognizable: light and almost dancing to a rhythm only he could hear, skipping a step every now and then.
“Hey B, thought you were going golfing with the mayor, keeping up the old appearances and all that” he greeted brightly, as ever immune to Bruce’s mood. Or maybe Alfred sent him down to deal with him, that was also an option.
“Oh I love these,” Dick reached forward over Bruce’s shoulder to grab a protein bar from the backpack. He opened it and started to eat it without hesitation.
“Dick,” Bruce sighed, “this is evidence.”
Dick snorted and leaned on the console so he could look at Bruce. “You’re serious.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
Dick snorted again, of course Bruce was serious, then he pulled the backpack over and started rooting through it. Much to Bruce’s exasperation he opened another protein bar.
“Dick, they could be drugged.”
“As if you’d have let me take the first one if that was the case,” Dick mumbled around the mouthful of granola. Bruce mentally conceded the point.
“Anyways,” Dick swallowed and continued, reading the name tag on the inside of the backpack, “Danny Fenton, who’s that?”
Bruce sighed.
“The thief.”
“The Ghost!?” Dick looked up in excitement, “so we have a name now?”
“Presumably, it may not originally have been his backpack.”
“True, doesn’t help much either does it? Danny is very common and Fenton may not be Johnson, but it’s not exactly unique.”
“I haven’t looked it up yet.”
Dick narrowed his eyes.
“This has anything to do with why you’re brooding?”
Silence stretched between them, but Dick could be surprisingly patient when he wanted to. There was no point in dragging things out, it wasn’t a secret, Dick could easily find out through the surveillance if he wanted, Bruce would rather he didn’t.
“Jason was the one who delivered the backpack.”
“Ah.” There was the worried frown Bruce would have liked to avoid. He leaned down a bit to better face Bruce.
“You had a fight?” The question was posed carefully, softly, not betraying any inkling what he thought of that, in a way to gently pry the answer from Bruce, but Bruce knew his eldest son well enough to know he was already mentally running damage control options. That was Dick, always trying to keep their family together tooth and nail. There was a soft pang of appreciation in his chest he couldn’t articulate, instead he focused on the problem at hand.
“He’s convinced the thief needs help, I don’t actually disagree.”
Dick sat back in realization, his eyes flickered to the backpack and its sorry spoils.
“But he could still be working for someone,” Dick recited with a sigh, it was an old lesson. One he knew Jason wouldn’t have appreciated, not if he felt Bruce was dismissing his concerns. “B.”
“I know.”
Do you? Dick’s eyebrows asked, but he had the grace not to actually say it. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder instead, squeezing slightly.
“He’ll warm back up.”
“You think so?” He asked unable to look up at Dick.
“Hey,” Dick said brightly in a way that naturally drew attention to him, “we’ve come back from worse.” And there was that bright smile and that pang of appreciation was back, along with another warm feeling in his chest: hope.
“Well, I gotta get going, I’ve got work tomorrow. Just gotta grab a few more of these.”
And the feeling was gone.
“Dick.”
“We shouldn’t waste perfectly good food, B, also they’re W-Mark exclusives, they don’t have them in Blüdhaven.” He grinned, pockets stuffed with contraband. Invariably reminding Bruce of a younger version with pockets full of candy he’d been denied. Brat already knew he had won. Bruce waved him off with a sigh.
Dick practically skipped towards the stairs. Then he paused.
“Oh and B, if I was you, I’d check the phone at the bottom of the bag. It’s not a brand I recognize.”
With that he was off.
Bruce stared after him. Pride warred with annoyance. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed Dick checking out the bag more thoroughly than the cursory look he himself had done when Jason had handed it to him.
He grabbed the bag and rooted around a bit, and just as Dick had said, there was a phone.
He pulled it out, and turned it over in his hands. It was made from dark blue plastic. The logo on the back, a stylized V in front of a globe, wasn’t one he recognized. It looked old and scuffed, had actual buttons and a jarringly small screen when you were used to modern smartphones.
It was also out of power.
With how old it looked, it was unlikely cordless charging was an option. He looked at the bottom edge where there was an actual mini headphone jack, along with what he assumed was the charging port - it wasn’t a type he recognized.
He frowned and got up. He wouldn’t be too late for his meeting with the mayor if he left now, not something he couldn’t brush off as eccentric forgetfulness at least.
He could drop the phone off at Tim’s on the way. Tim would get the phone working one way or another.
Oo o oO
Danny stayed underneath the pavement long after the not-ghost had left. The feeling of almost giving in was a crawling like ants underneath his skin. The threat of almost capture was like a noose around his neck - if they captured him, if they managed to contain him, he would never get home.
Eventually the bone deep tiredness of using his powers too much hit him, and he dragged himself back to his haunt, invisibly and intangibly, because he’d had much too much excitement today. He was raw and empty inside when he dropped onto his blanket pile and rolled up. He would get food some other day. Never mind that he was completely out. It wouldn’t end his existence, just weaken him. Ghosts at the core ran on willpower, and Danny wanted to go home.
A small squeak and rustle, had him opening his eyes a crack and turning his head to look to the far side of the room. There the rat was going his trash, the packaging probably still smelled like food.
He huffed and closed his eyes again. If he got truly desperate he could always eat the rat - It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d eaten.
next
Masterpost for subscription
Sorry, it's not the longest part this time, but we got to appreciate a few other characters, yay! Hope you enjoyed, cause Danny sure isn't enjoying himself.
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routine vibe check: what’s the best starter pokemon and why are you right (pictures and long paragraphs of evidence welcomed and appreciated)
I'm so sorry to say that I am absolutely failing this vibe check because I know like.... four pokemon. hold up i'll list them right now
-Pikachu -Evee -Squirtle -Mewtew -Mr. Mime -Nurse something(? pink hair and pronouns) -Bulbasoar -Purple guy? his name starts with a G -Magneto? it's not magneto. magnet something.
this definitely says something about my personality but god knows what
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ironraven · 7 months
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paint (and krita, technically) doodles
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littleragondin · 9 months
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So they grew up together, they were childhood friends.
Do you think Tanthai used to come to Thee every time he had a scrap, every time he got scolded by his father? Was Thee, a little older, maybe just a little more serious, always there to wipe his tears and put a band-aid on his knee, to take his hand and run away with him to hide and play in the garden until his father calmed down? (Do you think the gardener knowingly kept silent about the mess they made in the flower beds when they played ball, indulgent ?)
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Do you think that's why, despite Thee's current silence and inaction, despite how he accuses him of only staying by his side for money, Tanthai still seems to trust him? Why he keeps turning to him, keeps asking him again and again and again to please take him away from here? - like Thee is the only who could.
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They were friends, and now Thee looks like he can't even touch him, taking a step back when Tanthai moves like he's going to reach for him. What happened since that picture? Did Thee grew up, a little faster than Tanthai, realizing that what he felt was changing? That the way they were with each other would start to attract disapproving looks and comments? Did he add this to the awareness of his situation regarding the Senator's family, of propriety and what was acceptable, and realize that this could not happen? That he had to distance himself (as much as he could, because despite it all he knew he couldn't go away)?
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Did Senator Thatthep notice the comfort his son found in Thee, the closeness between them that was becoming more than the friendship of young boys? Did he take Thee aside, did he leverage the debt Thee feels he has toward him, did he threaten to send him away from Tanthai? What did Thee have to promise to be able to stay by his side? (would he have promised anything to not have to live with the emptiness in his chest when he thinks of not being around Tanthai?) Always be professional, follow Thatthep's order, never, ever forget your place and think you can even pretend to be anything more than a loyal bodyguard to Tanthai. Come back to him ready to protect him with your life but never showing him any form of tenderness, of kindness that could be seen as inappropriate. And so Thee did as he was told and kept his distance.
(Is that why when Thee finally reaches for him, his hand a gesture of quiet worry, Tanthai breathes again?)
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Is that what Thee remembers, when he looks at the photo of them as children? All he has given up to be with Tanthai, in that shadow of a relationship, only to see him miserable, suffering, and hating himself. Is that what will finally make him decide that just being there isn't enough? That he has to give Tanthai more than mere presence if he wants them to make it through it?
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Well, I sure hope so. For both their sake at this point.
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gjdraws · 1 year
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A @cksecretsanta22 gift for @chwheeler, I hope you like it!
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sometimesthatsbetter · 2 months
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Every thing i read in Febubary
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I Became the Tyrant of a Defense Game
The MC of this novel is so fucking silly cause who tf names their kid Ash 'Born hater' Everblack? Like i'm being for real right now, his mom literally called him her 'little hater'. Love that
So, a Korean gamer who was streaming about this old strategy game on hardmode where if you fail once the game resets. The guy got isekaied the moment he finished the game on stream and right in the middle of the battle field too, tough luck hater.
Before we go more in depth about this story I would recommend that you read the novel version, the manhwa seems a little tacky and i've seen alot of readers complain that the manhwa makes everything look cheaper.
So, one of reasons why it made on to my reading list is because it was recommended by my guy friends who has great taste for this kinda genre. It drew him in because it used actual strategies that he would also use in his game instead of throwing around random lingo in hopes to cater to gamers. Like every battle was truly suspenseful and the author isn't afraid to show that every victory requires a sacrifice. Also I've seen people praise the character development of this novel, everyone starts out a little stereotypical and annoying but they get their own story arcs to shine.
Another thing i like is that this story is about the fight against the end of the world. Like i know alot of stories with that kind of premise but rarely do i ever feel the urgencey as strongly as i do with this story. The last stand against a sea of monsters waiting to consume the world and the young prince who's tasked with the question of remaining human or turning into a monster to save his world. I love me some classical fantasy
Anyways, it has 500+ translated chapters and it's all free. Go read it now.
The problematic prince
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If i'm being honest here i can think of at least 10 more manhwa crown princes who are even more problematic than the ML, especially that guy from the abandoned empress, yeah fuck you blueberry head.
So the story premise is the typical bad boy x good girl story trope. Our prince Bjorn keeps getting pestered by his ex wife whom he doesn't want contact with and our FL is being sold off to the highest bidder in society, shinnaigans happen and so the are married. That's the very shorten version of the plot
First thing that i noticed, the vibes. It gave off so much Edwardian, turn of the century energy that i adore. From the costuming to the city streets and the interactions between common people. Love it.
The author seems to have been blessed with amazing writing skills because oh my god did the writing style made me swoon. Erna, our FL, can be classified as one of those soft girl heroines but i feel like she's more than that. She knew what she had to do to keep her loved ones safe and always strived for better, she's not a cunning villainess nor a simpering coward. Erna never settled and kept enduring and trying new ways to connect with others around her even when she's being labelled as a home wrecker.
Also the nobilities and medias reaction to their marriage was incredibly realistic, i see alot of manhwas with rags to riches stories or men marrying women with horrendus reputations but never mention how powerful the influence of the peoples opinions. Here you can see that Bjorn and Erna's relationship, while rocky still holds strong, it seemed like they are truly in love and happy with their choices. Yet media still condemns her as a witch, a slut and a disgrace towards the royal family. It even lead to a attempt on Ernas life. Which shows you how easily the public can be whipped into a frenzy just because of a narritive that she is other woman.
The spirit queen
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If i even find the author of this manhwa i would like to make out with them and have their babies, cause this kind of genious deserves to be preserved.
Do you want a story with proper drama? Do you want something that actually keeps it's momentum and doesn't half ass shit half way through? Do you want themes about power and how it turns people into the worse version of themselves? Well look no further. The spirit queen has your back
Another thing that i loved about this story was it's sympathy towards the working class. The servants in this aren't the stereotypical happy go lucky loyal maids that you see in manhwas, they also aren't evil back stabbing people either. They know that their lives are worthless when it comes to the upper classes so they do all that they can to survive and to protect their loved ones. And i respect that as hell, even if it made them do less than savory things.
Also i recently learned that the author, Tutu-nim, wrote and drew this manhwa on their own. A true girlboss
Run away with me, girl
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Remember all those times you said that you can be a better husband for the FL? Well this is a lesbian romance based on that premise.
It's a bittersweet romance story about two girls who were high school friends meeting each other after 10 years. Maki, who is till doing her graduate courses while living with her mom and lamenting her loneliness, while Midori is engaged and pregnant and living that perfect, normal life she wanted. Of course everything is not as it seems, and that's what the author wanted to explore in the coming chapters of the story
It's a short read, about 16? 17? chapters. But the author manages to do so much in that short amount of time. Every character felt so real and complicated. At first when you see Midori and the way that she treated Maki after their reunion, it's not hard to come to the conclusion that Midori is just playing around with Makis feelings. Especially with the way that she flirts and then reminds Maki of her engagement to her boyfriend.
This manga has the most realistic, hut wrenching potrayals of abuse, love and hate i've seen in a while. And if i'm being honest there is a high chance i would do the same if i was stuck in their situation.
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pastafossa · 16 days
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Not an ask or a request - just wanted to send some love your way. I’m on my third reread of TRT and I’m so excited for new stuff but I’m also loving everything you’ve written so far. Thank you for giving us a window into characters and a world that lives off the page. Hope you are having a wonderful spring.
Love from NYC!!
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Thank you so, so much anon! 😭 I'm so happy you're enjoying it. I love widening the world, delving into all the chaos and adventures going on in this universe just outside of the canon narrative POV. There's just so much to explore, and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it. I'm just as eager to get back into it, and I feel like I'm getting there, but the patience is still VERY much appreciated. Things were rough for a bit, but spring is definitely feeling like an improvement. <3
Much love back from my cold little city!
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cashweasel · 26 days
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Okay, I need to know more about Gideon and Valen. I (now) know they're OCs, but from what fandom? What are they like? How did they meet? (Of course, pace yourself if this volley of questions is too much, lmao)
HIIII omg thank you so much for your ask hehe I totally don’t wait for people to ask about them or anything djdjskskjdjd 💗💗💗💗💗💗
They’re my ocs yes! Not from any fandom just my brain lol they exist in a fantasy verse (and also a modern au that I’m very obsessed with)
Their moms are very close besties!! and when they had kids they also became besties fjdkdkdjd (so basically they’ve been besties since birth yes, besties since the womb even)
Valen is royalty and lowkey the black sheep of his family he’s loud, chaotic, charming and unhinged, Gideon is the same but emo kdjsjdjdksk (and shy sometimes) and later becomes the general of his armies
They basically go through their entire lives together and they’re very dependable on each other which is a huge part of their story. Valen has a magical disability that can be very dangerous to him and others and gideon is a victim of DV so they take turns taking care of each other and for a long time they were each other’s only friend
They grew really close which created feelings, they had their first kiss -which valen rejects and runs away from 💀- when they were teens for which gideon apologizes and responds to by building impenetrable emotional walls that lasts a lifetime all while valen is trying to gaslight him into believing Nothing happened fhdjskdj.
Several years of pining and clawing their way out of the depths of repression hell they Finally kiss for real and their happiness and planning for their future is definitely not cut short by a devastating incident or anything 👍
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Me, when Sebastian joins my party for the first time: Okay, this time I'm not going to forget about you, Sebastian. I'm going to make an effort to use you a lot this playthrough so I can better understand you.
Also me, immediately forgetting about Sebastian while finishing Act 2 and making it halfway through Act 3 before I finally notice his Faith quest: ......................Oh. Right. My bad.
#da2#dragon age 2#sebastian vael#listen in my defense..........i don't like bringing sebastian anywhere sksksks#okay look i seriously tried but every time i bring him somewhere i always think man i wish i had brought someone else#and also i do just forget about him! i finally added him to my party at one point and he had 24 points to spend...#that's how long i neglected him after i promised myself i was gonna use him more and then i didn't#it's not that i don't like sebastian as a character though i do tend to side eye him A LOT... it's just that i like everyone else more#even aveline like i'd take aveline over sebastian any day and that's saying something... or is it? i have a lot of feelings about aveline#whereas my feelings about sebastian could maybe fill a thimble...it doesn't help that in my canon run as a mage hawke#i romance anders and well... sebastian wants me to kill anders and my hawke is like 'do i approve of blowing up the chantry? complicated.'#'am i breaking up with anders for this? absolutely. do i still love him? mmhmmm. am i going to kill him sebby? i'd sooner set varric aflame#then sebastian threatens to bring an army to kirkwall and leaves so i can't say i have the greatest opinion on him#even the time where i did kill anders and he stayed in my party he was just... there#and then he glitched out and started t posing while asking if ed ever found out what anders wanted to do in the chantry so..... yeah#but even this playthrough where i'm playing as a lady warrior with a different personality and everything... i'd just rather use anyone els#also keep him away from bethany i do not approve sksksks she's too good for him#i want to understand and see the different angles of him like with the other companions but i've yet to convince myself to do it#also sebastian romancers out there can you like... explain? genuinely can you explain the appeal? i'm curious#because of all the love interests in da2 i look at sebastian and you'd think i'd maybe be more interested? but it's like...#i know about the chaste marriage and everything like that's fine i don't need sex to be a thing in the relationship but it feels less like#an asexual romance and more like... y'know... being with a priest and i guess that's just not one of my kinks? sksksks#i guess there's also the prince angle but i romanced alistair in dao and kept him a grey warden i don't really care about royalty power#and i don't have issues with him being a part of the chantry [well i do but yknow what i mean] since i romanced cullen in dai#and his whole deal with the chantry and magic and shit makes his romance interesting to me but sebastian is just.... a bit too much i think#i don't know i'd like to understand because i really don't but i also keep forgetting about him
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An fix on the average day in the office as a private eye for Spider Noir?
First of all, it's been over three months. I am so so sorry. BUT I hope my 5k oneshot that greatly spiralled away from your og prompt makes up for it haha :)
TW for a bit of body horror, VERY brief mentions of period-typical racism and also some brief Spider God-related ickiness
Light Up Your Insides (Not Today)
The little bell at the door chimed and Peter looked up from his lunch to see a woman entering. She was maybe middle-aged, had brown skin, dark hair and a look of deep worry on her face.
Peter sat up straighter behind his desk pushed his glasses back up his nose.
"Are you--Peter Parker?" the woman asked.
Peter nodded. "That's me. Please take a seat. How can I help you?"
The woman breathed out in relief, but the worry didn't ease up yet. With only a moment's hesitation, she sat down on the chair opposite of him, but she didn't lean back.
"Mr Parker, I need your help. They say you're a good dick, and..."
She trailed off, but Peter could imagine the rest.
"My daughter, she's gone missing. The police wouldn't help me, and the--others I've asked said they were too busy, there's more important--"
Peter nodded. The woman didn't look like she could pay well, which would put others in his profession off. The coppers didn't really care, ever. And it likely wasn't helping that she was African American, either. The woman herself still looked like she was preparing for rejection--but luckily for her, Peter wasn't known for turning anyone away.
"Please tell me more about this case, Mrs...?"
"Johnson."
"Johnson. Do you want a tea? Coffee?"
Mrs Johnson shook her head. "No, thank you."
That was just as well. Peter wasn't sure if he even had tea around and he still wasn't a huge fan of sharing his coffee--not that she needed to know that.
Peter took up a pencil and a sheet of paper. "Then please tell me of your troubles, Mrs Johnson."
Mrs Johnson took in a deep, shaky breath. "It's--my daughter. Flora. She--she doesn't usually run off, she's never done it before, but--it's been two days..."
Against Peter's best attempts, he'd never quite been able to shake the images from that lab back on Ellis Island, even though it had been years. The apple had settled a lot, since then; the criminals weren't as bad anymore, not every last person with any kind of authority was corrupt and the Spider wasn't needed even nearly as much as back then. But he still couldn't help that very first thought when he heard of a black girl gone missing. New York was anything but safe, not really, especially for coloured people.
Peter did his best to keep his calm demeanour, if only because the last thing Mrs Johnson needed was even more stress. "Please tell me what exactly happened in as much detail as possible."
Mrs Johnson took another shaky breath, and Peter did his best to write along.
They had been on their way home along Lexington Avenue when Mrs Johnson had first lost sight of her daughter. First she thought Flora had simply seen something interesting and would return in a minute. But that hadn't happened.
Mrs Johnson had spent about half an hour searching the entire area before returning home in the hopes that maybe Flora had gone there on her own--to no avail. A few hours after Flora's disappearance, she had contacted the police, only to be turned away.
It had been a day by now, her husband and neighbours all aiding in her search, and Mrs Johnson had gone to the last place she had heard of for proper help: in other news, Peter.
Peter had seen lots of gruesome things in his life, and while very few of those involved children, they were the first thing to come to his mind. Especially Ellis Island. It had been a decade, by now, but...
Still, he put on his most serious yet calming expression.
"Lexington Avenue?" he asked.
Mrs Johnson nodded and sniffled. Peter handed her a tissue, but she waved him off and pulled out her own.
"I'll begin the search immediately. I will contact you if I have any more questions or when I find Flora."
Mrs Johnson nodded and swallowed. Then she set her jaw and stood up. "Thank you, Mr Parker."
"Don't thank me yet," Peter said with the slightest hint of a smile, despite the growing worry curling in his chest, and walked her to the door.
He only returned to get his coat and notepad before following right after--he had no time to lose.
-----
Lexington Avenue was bustling at this time of day. Peter looked around.
He was standing in the exact same place Mrs Johnson had described when she had noticed Flora missing.
There were no visible signs, of course not. How might a child go missing, though, and why?
Children were curious. She could have easily wandered off and gotten lost. And then what?
Peter should probably give the closest police station a visit before anything else. But since he was here, he might as well question some of the people who might have seen anything. Shop owners, the people at Pete's Tavern just a bit down the road--it was worth a shot, at least.
The shops all turned out to be failures. Peter pushed open the door to the bar--one last stop before he paid the coppers a visit.
There weren't many people inside at this time of day, but Peter could hear a few hushed conversations. Two men were at the bar, one sitting on a stool, the other wiping a glass down. They went silent the moment Peter entered, eyeing him closely.
Peter knew whom to ask first of all.
"Excuse me," Peter said, striding over to them with the most confidence he could put into his steps, stopping just a bit closer to them than would have been polite. "Where you here yesterday, too?"
"Why are you asking?" the man sitting at the bar demanded.
"Yeah," the man behind it said.
"I'm looking for a girl. About this tall, nine, African American, you seen her?"
The men exchanged a look. It was only for a second, but Peter saw it anyways.
"No," the sitting man said.
"Maybe," the bartender said.
Interesting. Most interesting.
Peter kept his face straight and stared at them.
Finally, the bartender sighed and extended his hand. "Pete Baines. I own the place."
Peter shook it. "Peter Parker."
Pete Baines grinned widely, his stance opening visibly, while the other man grumbled into his drink and half turned away.
"Ah, another Pete! Well then, perhaps I can help you. What did you want again?"
Either Pete Baines was very fond of people sharing his name, or he was a very good actor and dangerous, and be it only because he knew something he didn't want to tell.
Peter returned the smile, albeit slightly strained. "A black girl. Nine years, curly hair, yesterday around noon."
Pete Baines scratched his head. "Well, no, doesn't really ring a bell. Does it, Will?"
Will made a sound akin to a negative, without ever turning.
"Are you sure?" Peter needled. "Her mother was sure she'd seen her wander around here. Can I have a look around at least?"
Will snarled another incomprehensible thing. Pete Baines made it a show of thinking. "Well, no. We don't really get little girls here, now do we, Will? No, I'd have noticed. Sure I'll show a fellow Pete around though, eh?"
Wonderful. Now Peter just had to watch out which parts Pete Baines tried to keep him away from and go there.
Unfortunately, Pete Baines didn't try to keep Peter away from anywhere. Peter was allowed to freely sniff around the entire bar room, including behind the bar. He listened closely to his steps, but even with his enhanced hearing, nothing sounded hollow. They went to the backrooms, too. Will looked promisingly critical at this, but... nothing.
Nothing.
Peter firmly set his jaw and tried not to let his irritation show, even as the back office and several storage rooms turned out to be entirely clean, at least as far as Peter could tell. And he had gotten good at recognising these kinds of things.
And then. And then. Finally.
It was just a broom closet. It was cramped, but not as dusty as Peter would have expected. And, most importantly, Pete Baines moved into the way. It was the first room he entered before Peter, and he put himself right in front of a crate.
Wonderful. Now, should Peter let him know that he knew...?
Who was he kidding. He didn't have any time to dawdle. He needed to find Flora.
"Let me see that," he demanded.
Pete Baines furrowed his brows, but his smile didn't waver. "Yes, of course. Why?"
Peter ignored him and knelt down besides the crate. The lid was brandished with an odd symbol; Peter had the feeling that he'd seen it before somewhere.
The crate itself was empty, save for a thick layer of dust inside.
Dammit.
Dammit.
Peter breathed out slowly and quietly. Then he pulled out his camera and took a picture--just in case. It would take a while to develop these photos, but he could check the library for anything with that symbol later.
Then again, he didn't have time. In the case of missing people--especially children--he couldn't wait for even one second.
"Well, thank you," Peter said and straightened his coat.
Pete Baines sent him another smile, but it was thinner than before. "I hope you find what you're looking for, pally."
Peter just nodded. He strode right past Pete Baines and back outside; a goodbye was probably overrated by now.
Pete Baines said nothing. But when Peter passed through the actual bar again, Will glared at him well until he was gone--and apparently it was even enough to set off Peter's spider sense.
-----
Peter headed for the library next. Developing the film would take too long--longer than he was willing to wait, anyways. He had been too late too often. Way too often. Not this time, not again.
Once at the library, he... had a problem. Where to start looking?
He found a librarian and a pencil to sketch the symbol to the best of his abilities.
"This might have been an old sigil," she told him and led him down the rows of shelves. "If you find it, I'd love to hear--where did you come across it, anyway?"
Peter shrugged. "Just an old crate in a pub somewhere." He took the proffered book. "Thank you."
Then he found a quiet corner to read the brick of a book that was this lexicon of old gods and hoped that it wouldn't be a huge waste of time.
The book was old. And bulky. Even flipping through every page quickly, only glancing at the sigils, he was making very little progress. Of course, some sigils were close to his drawing and he couldn't rule them out, so he also had to properly read four greatly varying articles and copy the most important details into his notebook.
There was a child missing. He should be doing something, something--
Peter flipped another page and this was it.
This was the sigil from that crate.
Florecae. Goddess of flowers, growth and health.
He had heard that name before. He knew he'd heard that name before. But where...?
Of course. Of course. He was a damn twit. He could have known that where sigils and Gods were involved, the Legion of Darkness was his best bet.
And the chances were good that they still had their base in that building down at the docks...
Maybe it was time for Peter to get out the suit once again. Lack of time certainly called for more drastic measures like that.
If he was lucky (and hadn't entirely unlearned how to swing), he might even make it into his suit and to the docks within half an hour.
-----
The Legion of Darkness was, for lack of a better description, a joke.
Peter had run into them before, years ago, when the Spider was still needed. They were neither a lot of people, nor very threatening. Their intentions had always been on par with the name, though--and whether they did or did not succeed in raising an ancient God was irrelevant with a child's life in danger.
The rhythm of swinging past the buildings still came easy to Peter, even though he had changed a lot. He'd become a private dick, and gotten a cat, and let the Spider disappear, and even the Spider God left him alone most of the time. Even the nightmares had gotten fewer.
And yet, the moment that mask hid his face and his coat billowed in the wind as he rushed past the highest of buildings, so far above the street, it was as if all these years of living a relatively normal life didn't matter anymore. His movements were as fluid as back then, despite the age difference. His joints bent too far from one swing to the next, and the apple's smell was unusually sharp. This high up, hardly anything could harm him.
He was the Spider, and if anyone dared to touch that little girl, they were going to regret it.
Along with a slightly saltier, tangy scent in the air, the docks came into view. Peter returned to the solid rooftops, running and jumping too easily and too far for a human.
One of these buildings now must have been the one. No, this one. He was standing on it.
He set his hands down and crawled down the side of the building, but from the looks of it, none of the windows were open. Well, that was... not ideal.
Peter looked at the window below him. The room behind it was dark and seemingly empty. Ah, well, he already knew his spider-sense was still sharp.
He drew his arm back and smashed the glass. Without hesitation, he swung inside right after the shards and crouched down inside the room.
It was empty, as expected, but otherwise, too, entirely bare. No furniture, no proper floor, not even a single proper lamp.
That didn't matter. He was here to find out where the girl was being kept.
The door of the room stood open. The hallway past it was equally deserted and dark. The closer he came to said door, the stronger his spider-sense prickled in the back of his neck. There was no imminent, immediate danger, but something here was very, very wrong.
Peter laid one hand onto the handle of his gun and scanned the hallway in both directions, before turning left. His steps were silent, but his breath sounded louder for it.
He couldn't risk being noticed, not before he got what he came for.
All the rooms setting off from the hallway appeared silent even to Peter's enhanced senses. Had the Legion relocated...? No, they still had their name written on the front door, in fresh paint. (Peter honestly wasn't sure what they were trying to achieve with that, but he wasn't complaining. If it wasn't a trap--but he'd notice in time. Hopefully.)
Okay. He was still on the top floor. He'd check out the floors below and then search more thoroughly--that was probably the fastest option.
Peter had barely reached the first landing when he heard a commotion.
"No, no! I don't want to!" a girl shrieked.
"But Flora is such a pretty name. You'd be just perfect--"
Peter had no intentions of finding out who was talking or what the girl was perfect for. He jumped to the ceiling, where people wouldn't aim first of all when drilling and crawled after those voices. He didn't like not having his guns in hand, but he couldn't risk shooting before locating Flora.
"Come on," the adult voice coaxed, possibly a woman. "Be a good little girl and--"
The door wasn't locked, so Peter threw it open and fired his webs by instinct alone.
A split-second later, he could properly make out the scene: the room had been two rooms, the wall between them crudely brought down. Right in the middle, someone had drawn Florecae's sigil with white paint and in the centre of said sigil--
"Let go of me!" Flora cried out, tears spilling down her face, her kinky hair in wild disarray.
A woman stood half bent over her. She had greenish-white skin, bright hair and--
A sharp pang shot through Peter's skull and he dropped down onto the floor. He could still feel the bullet zipping past him but he turned mid-fall and threw webbing right back. Yelling started up and more guns were being fired.
Peter had to end this, fast, before Flora got hit by a stray bullet. It was too easy to get back into the flow of evading bullets based on instinct alone. It was maybe ten goons, likely members of the Legion of Darkness. Their aim hadn't gotten all that much better. Duck, run, jump--and with a kick to the jaw, the goon crumpled to the ground. Jump, run along the ceiling, shoot--another one down for the count. The energy of the fight was cursing through Peter's limbs, heightening his senses and the smell of gun powder. It had been a while since he'd been able to let loose, let his spidery side take over and ruthlessly beat a bunch of brunos to pulp, and it almost felt good. They were done for quickly.
Peter dropped back onto even ground and turned towards Flora and the woman.
Both were watching him. Flora was still crying, hugging herself.
The woman tilted her head. A smile, too wide for a human mouth, with too many needle-sharp teeth, greeted Peter. Her eyes were bright blue like the sky on an exceptionally clear day and sparkling almost as warmly as the sun. She had too many of them.
"See?" the woman asked with a voice that wasn't very loud anymore at all, but piercing right through Peter's head. "This is a totem. Does it look sad to you?"
Peter grit his teeth. The voice wasn't just piercing, it was literally inside his head--she hadn't spoken on a physical plane. And the woman wasn't even anything close to a woman. Not a human altered by queer magic--no, she was Florecae herself.
Don't listen to her, Peter tried to say, but his voice wouldn't carry, no sound crossing his lips. He couldn't move. He looked down, only to see colourful, blooming vines creeping up his legs. Why hadn't his spider-sense warned him? How hadn't he noticed--
Focus. He needed to focus.
Flora, listen to me. Your mother asked me to search for you. I'll get you out of here, I promise, just don't listen to her. Whatever she wants you to do, don't.
Peter's words stayed silent, but Flora suddenly looked up, directly at him, as if she'd heard him anyways.
"Don't bother," Florecae said, her eyes blazing until her features were unrecognisable beyond the light. It made his eyes water to look at her any longer. Was she getting stronger...?
The light travelled from her face down her torso, illuminating more and more of the room in what might have been sunlight, hadn't it been so damn bright. Florecae's feet lifted from the ground, thick vines and varieties of flowers spreading from where she had stood.
"You are too late, Spider," Florecae exclaimed and her voice came from everywhere around and echoed inside Peter's skull painfully. His entire body was on fire, whether because of her presence or his own spider-sense going nuts, he couldn't tell. "She will be my totem, my sacrifice to walk this plane once more. Surrender now, or be destroyed."
Peter crouched down and began to undo his laces, his coat falling just right to hide it from sight--though a goddess might see regardless. Who knew? His direct personal experience with gods was limited, and Florecae was nothing like the fever dream of getting his powers. They weren't very alike, neither in manner nor appearance. Regardless, Peter wouldn't let anyone else become a God's totem; nobody deserved to go through that hell, least of all a child.
He made eye-contact with the girl. "Run!" he yelled, and the feeling of his words rippling across a surreal, godly plane of existence instead of his physical world made him want to throw up.
Flora's eyes were wide with panic as she shook her head frantically. "If I leave the circle, I'll die!" she yelled back between sobs.
Was this really...?
Peter looked at the ground more closely. He had come inside the sigil without even noticing, and the flowers and plants were restricted to exactly that sigil. Florecae wasn't able to properly touch their physical world, not yet, not without a totem. That meant she could still be stopped. If Peter could just get Flora outside of that sigil without killing her...
A thousand glass shards were piercing through Peter's brain and he could hardly contain a scream as his vision went white. Fire raced down his limbs, more glass shards lining his lung with every half-aborted breath. He could feel his teeth shifting in his mouth, could feel the fangs he had sanded down years ago grow back, lined with venom. His head pulsated. Peter's fingers curled into claws.
When he opened his eyes, they weren't his own anymore. They weren't his human eyes at all, but eight eyes that weren't tangible on this plane, lent by the very thing that still let him wake up screaming regularly. The Spider God's terrifying presence pressed down on Peter's frail, human body, both from inside and out. It would tear him apart--and stitch him back together, mercilessly.
The God's eyes could see Florecae. They could see the blinding silhouette of the physical world and her true, mind-tearing form wherever it was that Gods resided. Peter's entire being ached to recoil, hide away in a dark corner, get away before the mere sight could burn him to ashes. His eyes were watering and his mask clung to his face like a second skin, and still the Spider God's presence tore through his organs. Some of the sigil glowed even around the Goddess's true form.
Flora didn't.
Peter gasped for a breath that wouldn't come and the Spider God's presence left him as suddenly as it had come.
He leapt forwards. His boots were still held firmly in place by vines and the like, but they slipped off his feet and he sprinted towards the Goddess, towards Flora. Flora opened her mouth to a silent scream and Peter reached her, reached for her torso and pressed her against his own body as he continued to run.
Flora was small and light. She clung to Peter's arm as he adjusted her in his arms to hold her properly.
A mind-splitting screech echoed through his ears until he thought his skull would dissolve into nothingness. One more leap and they would be outside of that huge sigil--but the air seemed to thicken, slowing Peter's movements, dragging them back in.
No. He wouldn't let it. He wouldn't let anything happen to the girl, he wouldn't let Florecae win, not this time, not ever.
Peter's free hand shot out and the web attached to the wall of the room. He yanked, and they were sent flying from that choke-hold.
Air flooded Peter's lungs. Flora was still held in his arms, head buried against his neck, sobbing, alive.
He didn't have any time to waste.
"Hold on tight," he muttered as he skidded into the hallway. From behind, he could hear the sound of shattering glass. Peter ran back up the stairs where he'd come from. Somewhere below he could hear yelling, quick steps, but they were just too far away to be a danger. He found the room he had entered through and crawled right back out, into the grey-ish, natural daylight of New York City.
One roof further, Peter dared to stop. He set Flora down carefully. She looked up at him with red eyes. She didn't seem to have any bruises or other external injuries, but he'd have to check again later. For now, he still had to make sure Florecae wouldn't come after them.
"Wait here," he told Flora, even as everything inside him protested that he couldn't leave her alone, not even for a second.
Thankfully, he didn't have to move far to see that whatever had happened in there had had... consequences. He and Flora hadn't left a second too early.
The second floor from the top was on fire. The flames were licking higher and higher, and Peter could hear faint screams from inside.
Good.
He knew the only people inside had to be willing members of the Legion of Darkness. They had kidnapped a child. They got what was coming for them. Whether they got out or burned to death--it was none of Peter's business.
He turned back to Flora. She was sniffling and hugging herself, but she was no longer actively crying.
"Who are you?" she asked very, very quietly.
Peter heard her perfectly well. He crouched down to meet her eye to eye. "They called me the Spider," he said.
"The Spider hasn't been seen for years, mum says."
He nodded. "That's because it hasn't been needed that much. Listen, Flora. I'll bring you back home, like I promised, but I need you to keep a secret. Can you do that?"
She swallowed, but nodded.
Peter hesitated. "Where I'll bring you first... I usually don't want anyone to know who I am. You can't ever tell anyone."
"I won't," she said, louder this time, apparently intrigued by such a well-kept mystery.
"Okay. I'll get you to my office the fastest way I can. Do you think you can hold on to me while I swing?"
Flora smiled, barely, and very carefully, but it was probably as close to enthusiasm as she could get after being kidnapped and almost becoming a totem. Peter had her climb onto his back and hold on tightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, which wasn't great for him but at least secure for her. Carefully, he crawled a little along the side of the building they were on, but Flora held on tight, and he could deal with her weight--it was barely anything.
Peter swung back home slower than usual. But the child on his back thoroughly seemed to enjoy herself, shrieking as the wind rushed past them.
"We're so high!" she yelled right into Peter's ear at some point, and she still sounded a little scared, but most of all... she sounded excited.
She would recover. She would be able to go back to her life, eventually.
Peter ended it all in a back alley close to his office. He set his feet back on the ground and pulled off his mask, suddenly awfully aware that he had left his boots behind. They had been good boots. Really good boots. And damn expensive, too. Well, after that fire...
"Your hair is really fluffy," Flora said suddenly, still holding on tightly.
She was alright. She was alive. She was safe. That was worth a pair of boots.
Once back inside his office, Peter deposited Flora on his office chair behind the desk, which she immediately began exploring, and rang Mrs Johnson. The only response to his news was a choked sob and and the end of said call, but he had hadn't expected much else.
"You mum will be here in a moment," Peter said. "Remember, I'm just your friendly neighbourhood dick. Don't got no powers, just a good nose for conspiracies."
Flora nodded seriously. "The Spider found me and brought me here. And left."
Peter made himself smile a little. He was tired and sore. He hadn't been in a fight that bad in quite a while, and the Spider God's sudden appearance hadn't helped things.
"She said you're a totem," Flora said suddenly. "Does that mean someone gave you to a God?"
Peter couldn't help a small grimace. "It was... no, not really. A spider bit me, a venomous one. But instead of dying--"
He didn't want to think about it, all the vivid details that wouldn't ever stop haunting him as long as he lived.
"What's it like? Who's your god?"
Peter began sifting through some old papers, if only to have his hands moving. "The Spider God gave me my powers, but it also... well, it's... I've been able to help people. But it's not nice. If you can help it, stay far away from gods."
"No, I definitely want to see more of them now," Flora drawled in a surprising burst of sarcasm.
Peter chuckled. "Let me just get you some city juice and then we make sure you're not hurt, okay?"
Flora hesitated. "Don't leave."
"I won't."
-----
Mrs Johnson didn't even bother with knocking, and Peter couldn't fault her for it. She immediately rushed towards Flora and scooped her up into a tight hug. Flora buried her face in her mother's chest.
Mrs Johnson looked up again after a moment; only her eyes were a little shiny. She tried to smile at Peter. "How can I ever--"
"It's quite alright," Peter cut her off, "as long as you and your daughter are safe." He looked at them. "I don't need money, either," he decided on a whim. He could get by well enough already.
"If you ever need anything, Mr Parker, if it's within my power..."
He nodded. "The most you can do is stay safe, Mrs Johnson. Please."
She inclined her head. "You are a good man. Thank you."
Peter almost wanted to scoff, but he made himself smile instead.
"The Spider saved me!" Flora exclaimed suddenly, just as Mrs Johnson turned to leave.
"Oh? Did he?"
"Uh-huh. He wasn't so scary." The girl nodded and looked over her mother's shoulder right at Peter.
He winked and put a finger against his lips.
She almost giggled and returned the motion.
The girl was safe now.
But Peter would go out this night again, despite his tiredness, and hunt down whatever was left of the Legion of Darkness.
He may have gotten a little inactive, but whoever messed with children would still have to answer to him.
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I hope you enjoyed, even though some parts may have been a bit rushed! I did get it out within the same year you asked lmao. Thanks for the prompt, anon. I sincerely hope you see and enjoy this.
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I've found that, when interacting with others (or myself), it's useful to consider the lessons I'd want to teach a growing child.
If a child makes a mistake, I wouldn't want them to feel shame. I wouldn't yell at them, humiliate them, or in any way indicate to them that their mistake is a reflection of their worth or of who they are as a person.
Instead, I'd want them to associate the process with love and joy. If they say something that hurts someone's feelings, or otherwise ostracizes someone in some way, I'd compassionately explain to them. Ideally, they'd walk away knowing why they said / did it in the first place, how to handle similar situations in the future, and would accept the consequences (e.g. if a friend no longer wanted to hang out with them).
While the consequences may sometimes be painful, I'd do my best to instill in them that mistakes are human and natural, and that the process of learning from these mistakes is an opportunity to improve connections with others and express love.
I have a tendency towards excessive guilt. Memories in which I've said / done something ignorant or hurtful are infused with this guilt and shame- but ideally, I'd feel a sense of love and peace, and perhaps happiness, when looking back on them. Because they were moments of growth, moments I learned how to be more compassionate (even if the actual learning came years later).
So I'll put this out into the void:
When you make a mistake, that is not a reflection of you as a person. It is a moment in time, a moment which was informed by your past experiences. Humans are not static labels, or monsters in an RPG game. We are social creatures who live and learn and react and grow and experience and love. Be gentle with yourself and move forward knowing you're doing so in accordance with your values.
#parenting#internet culture#self compassion#i'd also want to teach them critical thought of course - there are varying ideas of what constitutes mistakes or ignorance or harm#and that's a messy subject which is often a challenge to teach and is beyond the scope of this post but it's important#to avoid being subject to manipulation or becoming reactionary#but anyways#to clarify something in the tags here: it's okay of course to feel bad. that's a normal response. but it's not necessary. and a culture of#shaming people for their mistakes isn't helpful in the same ways it isn't helpful to do that to a child. people become defensive and/or#self-hating. divisive and reactionary and more easily manipulated. fearful and ashamed and avoidant. afraid of disagreements or of trying#anything new. increased all-or-nothing thinking and blowing things out of proportion. it just doesn't help in the long run#sometimes when someone says something i want to express hatred and mockery towards; i think of my trans friend who's full of light and love#and compassion. who came from a smaller more conservative community and used to have some of those same stances (and may still hold some of#those feelings/anxieties). and i remember that i can be firm on my boundaries and spread love and acceptance and safety *without* spewing#vitriol at anyone who makes even a minor mistake. i want people who were impacted by oppression and bias to have space to grow and#find safe communities and be able to think for themselves. i dont want to push them away or be another person in their life screaming at#them. there's always a person behind the screen.#like that doesnt mean i have to interact with them. in fact in most cases it's better to step away. and there are still unsafe people out#there- but yelling at them won't do any good either. saw a tip to focus on the people you want to help rather than the opposition#and that's been super helpful for me
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optiwashere · 5 months
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Needed to lay down and try to sleep for longer than an hour today, and in doing so I blearily looked at general fandom tags because I wanted to see silly fanart.
Instead I got hit full-force with reality of so much drama over the wildest little shit. I've been cursed with sight.
I have also never been happier to stay in my own bubble away from... all of that.
All that to say, I'm keeping this blog free of more stuff like this but holy fuck it hit me like a freight train. All this drama exhausts me and I don't know how anyone keeps up with it. I prefer to think of this place as the equivalent of a cabin in the woods, one where I emerge every few days with a few thousand words for people to devour with their eyes.
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wait so ok hypothetically i decided to model unclean realm in three.js no good reason
what do i need? rocky terrain. rocky mountain, military gates. Siheyuan style house somewhere, and then?
thats for like a low accuracy first draft. thats what it looks like right?
im kinda confused
are those outpost towers? they kinda look like it but kinda not. what is that?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
im really not understanding whats going on over here. what is this layout?
there seems to be a good amount of foliage
is it really that much? i remember more rocks there. but also thats untamed concept art.
that and i dont remember shit
so my plan right now is to use models from online. either buy or free ones. and then as i start refining the area, ill start learning how to make my own for the specifics
and the aim is to go for as much realistic lighting/shading i can manage. i should aim for cartoon but i really dont know the fundamentals of light and color enough to stylize. making shaders or whatever shouldnt be too bad
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honey-beebo · 5 months
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i got the okay from my professor to write historically accurate fanfiction about witches in the 1500s for an assignment and i’m trying to figure out a way to write about the Wittebane brothers without making it too obvious or based too much/little in toh universe…….
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