#they're going to be struggling

[arcxnumvitae]

@soulsxng || Send questions to my muse’s parents || Accepting

I decided to break this up by parent/s so that we didn't end up with a mega long post! And so I could work on bit by bit instead of taking ten years.

"Some may say it would be a cliché to wish for my sweet babies to both be happy, but why would I not? Mo luran is such a serious little thing! So stuffy already for one so young! I can already see the ways in which he ends up like his father, far too hard on himself and in need of a good break! Tarag too, the wee toddling thing that she is." The smile on the woman's lips gained a tinge of sadness. "Royalty, the crown, it can eat one alive. I almost wish my two beloveds could escape from it all and live a life of their own making."

"I would have chosen to say that I wish for Camhlaidh to be a great king with Tara supporting him at his side, but I see that option is not allowed. Fine, I suppose I will say that I would like for Tara to never feel as if she is second to her brother, be it in our hearts or in the world. Siblings among Seelie fae are rare as it is, and to be the younger sibling to the heir is an experience of hers that very few can share. I do not wish for her to have a lonely existence. As for Camhlaidh, I wish for her to find a joy in life outside of his duties to the crown. It can weigh heavily on one's head, and while our duty to it is important, it is also important to find meaning and joy outside of it. I do not know where I would be if it were not for my beloved wife, mo chridhe."

"Oh, you!"

"Mo leannan."

[umblrspectrum]

"smaller mass" you say

[pangur-and-grim]

this idea didn't get a lot of votes, but I still wanted to sketch it out

[inkskinned]

love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.

love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.

love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.

love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.

maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.

recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.

[faunandfloraas]

One Kid's Room, 2024.

[benevolenterrancy]

redraw of that ds9 scene

LBH doesn't understand what's going on but wants to impress shizun; MBJ understands it even less but is optimistic about any sport involving a solid wooden bludgeon at least

[your-turn-to-role]

moment of appreciation again for what is possibly my favourite later game percy quote that everyone always forgets about

(said to vex, of course)

[distant--shadow]

the real truth is there ain't no end to the desert I'll cross

I've really known it all along

mama here comes midnight with the dead moon in its jaws

must be the big star about to fall

[juustozzi]

the beginning!

I just rewatched the first season after a looong time and man. I love it a lot!!

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

[solargeist]

I love how over time kid xelqua has become less just baby grian and more grian's kid who he found in the woods/somehow created and now the kid represents all of grian's childhood trauma and Catholic guilt and grian is just trying to break the cycle bc there's this magic fucking baby who is the best thing in the world

JKAGJKD yes Exactly, see evo Grian has a lot of family issues, from being an orphan, to the Watchers, he has ISSUES, so raising a version of himself is..... definitely odd, but weirdly healing.. He sees how he was as a kid, he wasn't that bad, he was just a kid ! He didn't deserve to be abandoned or anything. He sees all of his ache in Xelqua, he's very much breaking the cycle.

[mumbo: You alright mate, you have that look in your eyes. grian: no yeah--i'm good, i just.... its easy to raise him, y'know ? i mean, i know he's literally me, but.. it makes me wonder about my own parents--before the watchers, if i was anything like him, i don't know why they left] (-me)

[shevr]

[jeeaark]

Remember when that tadpole of yours snickered when Omeluum's attempted cure backfired? I don't think that lil rascal completely went away when Greygold transformed. It's probably maniacally snickering right now.

[queenlucythevaliant]

Just to clarify my thoughts (since I've had a number of people ask me about it) re: Job and cursing God. There's a big difference between cursing God as used in Scripture and how we generally would think of cursing at God today.

Cursing someone, in the Bible, has a lot of depth to it. It's not just saying "screw you " in anger, it's got a sense of forsakenness to it. It's the opposite of a blessing, a removal of blessing. If the blessing is presence, your face shining on the person you're blessing, then a curse is absence. In some translations, Job's wife tells him to "renounce God and die," which I honestly think makes a lot more sense to modern ears.

Job says a lot of unpleasant things to and about God in his anger and grief. So do the Psalmists. A number of the Prophets. So can we. God can take it if we come to him with honest expressions of our emotion, including those not-so-nice ones directed at him. I don't think there's anything wrong with getting mad at God and saying, "How dare you, you bastard" when you suffer unjustly. You can say much worse, I think, without sinning, though I don't feel particularly inclined to give examples. But as long as it's an honest expression of your heart, I think you're doing exactly what prayer is for. You're presenting him your heart with an open hand. He can use that. Opposite of love is not hate but indifference, etc.

Job doesn't renounce God. Neither should we. But I think when you're truly suffering, you're gonna have those feelings toward God either way. He'd rather you address them with him directly than try to avoid them. Cursing at God in the modern sense is actually a great way to keep the relationship strong and not end up cursing/renouncing him in the Biblical sense.

[whatimdoing-here]

WARRIOR NUN S2 | Ava and Beatrice small Moments.

[phantoms-lair]

45 for the crossover roulette.

MarvelxDC

~

"You okay?"

Peter looked up at the kid wearing a domino mask.

"Okay, kind of dumb question, but can you move? I don't think you want to be there if Klarion's next portal summons a monster."

"Who's Klarion?" Peter asked, confused.

"That," said the boy who on closer inspections was wearing...a really weird outfit and cape with a stylized R on the chest. He was pointing to what looked to be a floating kid in a school uniform with pale, almost blue skin and hair styled into horns. 'Klarion' was laughing as space and time seemed to rend around him.

"Okay, and what does Klarion want?" Peter asked, almost afraid to know.

"Chaos." Cape Boy said grimly. "No other goals. That's why we got you through a portal too, even though you're a hero."

"How do you know I'm a hero?" Not that it didn't feel good to be called that, but Cape Kid (Better, that one had alliteration) seemed to be putting a lot of faith in someone who fell through a random portal.

"You can see through the portals right before something falls out." Cape Kid point to one that now showed a stormy seas. "So we saw you saving that lady before you fell through. Awesome flip by the way. Can you teach me it? My older brother is an acrobat and I'd love to be able to show him up."

"Sorry," Peter apologized. "It's kind of something I can only do because of my mutati-" His Spider sense screamed and on instinct he grabbed Cape Kid and pulled him out of the way of a massive tentacle that slammed out of the sea-scape.

"ROBIN!" a voice called out.

"I'm okay B," Caped Kid, er Robin called out (guess that was what the R was for). "Portal Friend pulled me out of the way."

A man dressed in all in black landed next to them. For all the eared cowl and cape should have looked silly, this man carried it as intimidating. "Thank you. Your name?"

"Spiderman". It was impossible to see through the cowl, but Peter got the sense of an unimpressed eyebrow raised.

"It's no worse that Batman," Robin chided.

"It's not about the name. It's about the fact that he's trying to carry himself as an adult when he's clearly around your age."

What. The. F-.

"What are you talking about?" Peter tried to bluff. Sure he wasn't the tallest. But with the added muscle he looked more like a short adult than a teenager, right?

"You're in High School. Not even a senior." Batman said with absolute certainty.

Maybe he was psychic or something? Peter deflated.

"You're a teenager trying to carry yourself as an adult and you were fighting alone." It sounded like that that bit was what was upsetting him.

"Well, no one else knows I'm a teenager." Peter said nervously. "Most teenagers can't pick up cars." Not could most adults, but that was besides the point. "So any other heroes in NYC think I'm an adult too."

"Hn,"

"B says they're idiots," Robin translated cheerfully.

"Robin," Batman's tone held warning.

"Am I wrong?" Robin asked cheekily

"We need to focus on the matter at hand."

"That means I'm right," Robin stage whispered.

Peter couldn't help himself, he grinned. "So how can I help?"

"If you can keep Klarion distracted, I should be able to help Zatana get into place to stop the portals."

Peter grinned. "Oh don't worry, I can be very distracting."

~

"That was hilarious," Robin was almost bent in two laughing.

"Thank you, thank you." Peter mock bowed. "Man, Nightwing is going to be sorry he missed this. Oh Man, when you shot that web right in his face, gluing his mouth shut when he was gloating? That was great. Or when your asked what they were feeling him at the Victorian orphanage to turn his skin blue, and implied he just came out because he had the munchies-"

"Have you eaten?" Batman asked, ignoring Robin.

"Sorry?" the question took Peter off guard.

"Your suit was already scuffed when you arrived, so you'd either already been in a fight or at the end of a long patrol. You kept up a lot of high-energy movement and a powers like yours usually come with an increase in caloric needs. Have you eaten?" Batman repeated.

Peter's stomach answered for him with a low rumble.

"Hn."

"Batburger," Robin asked hopefully.

"No."

"...It's because of the fries, isn't it."

"You need to eat healthier."

"It's totally because of the fries." Robin nodded to himself.

"The fries?" Peter asked, confused.

"So this guy go the idea to open up a fast food burger place themed after Gotham's local vigilantes. The food pretty good for what it is, but recently they added a new option to the menu, seasoned fried with a spicy kick. But they called it Jokerizing the fries, and B is upset because he thinks it's trivializing what the Joker's victims go through."

Peter had no idea who the Joker was, but was guessing a villain. "...So would you say B's a little salty about the fries?"

Batman just looked to the smog filled sky, as if asking why all vigilantes acrobats had the same sense of humor.

"Finger's Deli."

"Yeah sure, their sandwiches are good." Robin shrugged. "What's your usual order?"

Oh, he was talking to him. "A cuban with pickles, squished real flat."

"Squished?' Robin asked. wrinkling his nose.

"It makes it crunchier." Peter defended.

"Stay here," Batman ordered, then fired his grapple gun and flew away. Hmm, maybe that was a feature he could add to his web slingers. "So do we know how I'm getting home?" Peter asked tentatively.

"No worries." Robin assured. "Zatana said everything Klarion pulled through will pop back into it's own reality in the next few hours. Yourself included."

"Cool, cool." So that was his big worry down. "Is Batman, like, your Dad or something?"

"He is." Robin confirmed "Not supposed to admit it, but it's kinda obvious. Like everyone assumes it anyways?"

"I can't imagine fighting crime with my un- a relative."

"Problems with your Dad?" Robin guessed.

"Not...really? He died when I was little. I don't even really remember him or Mom." Peter confessed.

Robin winced. "Sorry, I forget how often vigilantes are orphans."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, a lot of us. Including me and my brother and B."

"Um?"

"Adopted." Oh, that made sense. "Yeah, B keeps adopting kids who remind him of himself and then wonders why we're such drama queens who will go out in costumes to fight crime, including sneaking out if he tries to ban us." Robin laughed. "I can't complain though. Stealing his tires was the best decision I even made."

Peter made a choking noise "What?"

Robin shrugged. "I was young, homeless, and knew I could get top dollar for them. Like enough to keep me fed during winter. He catches me, I hit him with a tire iron because I'm sure I'm either going to juvie or he's going to steal my bones or something, and he just...asks me if I want to eat something. Took me to Batburger."

"Before the fries?"

"Before the fries?" Robin laughed, but it was a melancholy joy. "B's the best thing that ever happened to me. He gave me food and home, and never asked anything in return except for me to live my best life. I decided I wanted to be Robin because...I know what it's like to be that hopeless. And I want to give hope to everyone the way B gave it to me."

"There was a time when I was really afraid we were going to be homeless," Peter admitted. "And I know that's no where as bad as actually being, but..." Where was he going with this? He didn't like thinking of his early days. His disastrous wrestling career that ended in Uncle Ben's Death, trying to go to the Fantastic Four for a job and them telling him he couldn't get paid for being a hero.

Robin snorted. "I was there too, before the actually homeless thing happened. Don't feel like you haven't suffered enough to be at the trauma party because the absolute worst didn't happen. I'm guessing this is better since you have-" he gestured to Spiderman's costume, "-that setup." Pater laughed. "Dude, this outfit is completely scavenged. I sewed it out of old wrestler outfits. Made these," He pulled back his gloves, "out of scavenged metal and my uncles tools. The web fluid...okay I may have 'borrowed' some of what I needed from the high school chemistry department, but I've got a living culture now that just needs upkeep."

"That stuff's alive?" Robin's eyebrows shot up. "Sort of? It's a protean chain, crystalline in shape, but compressed. Once released it decompresses and expands exponentially before drying. Upside it also breaks down on it's own and is environmentally safe." Peter shrugged. "We are doing better though. My Guardian applied for some programs and I got a job. We're doing pretty okay now." Uncle Ben's life insurance had also helped. But there was no way he was counting that. He'd rather be homeless with his Uncle alive.

"I'm glad they applied for those programs. There al a lot of people who are either too proud, or think it's something that will be used against them." Robin said. And there was that melancholy twinge in his tone again. Had his parents refused those same programs before he was orphaned?

"I'm back." Batman interrupted in the same tone he had all night. He had a large plastic bag with him. Had he ordered in costume or changed out and changed back? Was this something he and Robin did often?

He sat down with them, pulled out the sandwich on top and then set it aside. He then pulled out another sandwich and a little side dish cup and handed them to Robin.

"Steamed vegetables?" Robin complained.

"I told you. You need to eat healthier." Batman said simply before handing the remaining bag contents to Peter. Three cubans -squished flat, a fruit cup, mac and cheese, and his own steamed vegetables.

"This is too much," Peter protested.

"It's not, I assure you." Batman paused. "Unless you meant it was too much to eat in one sitting, in which case it hopefully can travel with you when you go back."

"If I have to eat the veggies you do to," said Robin, tearing into his muffuletta.

"You don't even know me..." Peter said, "Why are you being so nice?"

Batman put his pastrami on rye down. He seemed to be cycling through several things to say.

"What does your support look like at home?"

"Like, my legal guardian?" Peter asked, confused.

"Does he know about your alternate identity?"

"She doesn't. She can't. She would blame herself for not figuring it our earlier, and the last thing I want to do is hurt her again. Besides, she's not exactly a fan of Spiderman."

"Friends?"

"Even worse. I had to send my best friend's Dad to jail. He will kill me, maybe literally, if he finds out I'm Spiderman."

"Work friends?" Robin asked, knowing Peter also held a job.

Peter snorted at that. "Don't have any. And even if I did it wouldn't be safe. My boss is the main printer of the articles about how Spiderman's a menace and needs to be hunted down."

Batman was frowning. "Other heroes?"

"Not really close to any. I've done some impromptu team-ups, but I think most of them find me kinda of annoying." Peter admitted.

Batman pinched his nose. "Because they assume you're an adult and picked up on your tones and mannerisms being more like a teenagers and rather than challenge the assumption of your age, decided you were an adult who was immature." he took a deep breath. "Spiderman this kind of life...it isn't one the works if you're by yourself. I was doing this for years before Robin joined me, but back then I had someone behind the scenes, even if he did nothing more than welcome me home at the end of each night. People need support, and that includes you. Whether it's your guardian, a friend of a fellow vigilante, as a human you need someone to lean on. Everyone does."

"And no offense, but it sounds like your civilian life is kind of a toxic echo chamber about your vigilante identity." Robin added. "That can not be good for your psyche."

"It's fine." Peter insisted, stuffing one of the sandwiches in his mouth. Neither Batman or Robin looked like they believed him.

"And maybe they're not wrong. Maybe I am bad at being a hero." Peter said, oddly defensively for someone deriding himself.

"I don't think that's true at all." Batman said gently. "I've barely known you an hour, Spiderman. And in that time you saved an elderly lady from your world, saved Robin, and helped fend off an avatar of Chaos."

"It was a good day." Peter muttered, busying himself with his sandwich.

"I think it's more you're a good person." Batman said kindly.

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm not a screw up."

Batman's smile turned to a frown. "Who told you that?"

Technically lots of people. "Nobody had to."

"I don't believe that." Batman said with full confidence. Which was heartwarming until-

"Was it your Guardian?"

"Aunt May would never!" Peter spat out. "She's kind and so supportive. She's always been there even thought it's my fault-" Peter broke off.

"What's your fault?"

"It's my fault my Uncle's dead." Peter's voice cracked. Robin started to rise to his feet, but Batman stalled him with a raised hand.

"What happened?" Batman asked in his calm and even voice.

"I saw a guy getting robbed and I did nothing. I let it happen. All because the guy who was being robbed was a crook who'd cheated me out of money I'd earned. I thought it was karma. But that thief broke into our house when I wasn't home and he shot him!" Peter felt strangely exposed. He curled in on himself.

"You've never told anyone about this, have you?" Batman said, a statement more than an ask.

Peter shook his head.

Slowly Batman moved to put his hand on his shoulder. "I could tell. Because it seems you've never had anyone tell you it wasn't your fault."

Peter's head shot up. Adrenaline crashed through his body and he wasn't even sure why. "I let the guy go."

"You made a mistake in judgement. But given you had already been cheated by the man being robbed, you also had no way of knowing that first robbery wasn't personal."

"I still should have done something! With great power comes great responsibility." Peter insisted.

"Perhaps. But no amount of responsibility can equate to being omniscient. There was no way you could have foreseen what would happen."

"But....but..."

"Spiderman, when I was just a child myself, there was a movie I wanted to go see. I convinced my parents to take me." Robin moved in, shoulder to shoulder with Batman, reassuring him. "The movie was wonderful, everything I'd hoped. And then on the way home we were mugged. Neither of my parents made it."

Peter's breath caught in his throat.

"I blamed myself for wanting to see the movie and it took a lot of time and a very stubborn old man to help me understand it wasn't my fault. And I'm guessing the only reason no one's told you that is no one know you're blaming yourself. You're not responsible for your Uncle's death any more than I was responsible for my parents. You are a child. You deserve a support system. You deserve people you can open up with all the way. You deserve to not be constantly punishing yourself for giving the wrong person a second chance."

"I know I'm not persuasive enough to make you believe with one talk. And once Klarion's portal reverses I'll not have a chance to talk to you again. So please find someone in your world you can trust. If not your Aunt, another hero. If they're worth the title, they'll help."

"Maybe, I-" Peter cut off as his spider-sense gave a low tingle. "Uhhh, I think something's happening." "You're going back." Batman grabbed the rest of Peter's food and shoved it into his arms. "Tale the food and please talk to someone. You're doing so well and you deserve to have help and support." "I-" Anything Peter was going to say was cut off as Peter suddenly found himself sitting alone on a roof in NYC, the daylight suddenly glaring to eyes that had adjusted to the darkness of Gotham. He was back home. Batman and Robin were gone. He sat down on the roof and almost on auto pilot pulled out one of the sandwiches he was still holding. The paper was oddly deformed, he noticed as he unwrapped it. Almost like it had been-

Batman had squished his sandwiches after buying them. Because the deli hadn't and he'd wanted Peter to have the sandwich he wanted. It was such an Uncle Ben thing to do.

Maybe Batman was that world's Uncle Ben. Maybe Robin was that world's version of him. It was nice to think of that. That somewhere in the multiverse there was a world where he and Ben were in this together. Batman had said there was someone waited for him at home. That world's Aunt May?

He'd said he needed help, that he was allowed to ask for help. And Uncle Ben had never been wrong before.

~

Captain America let out a breath as the last of the Doombots fell. This had been a big one. An all hands on deck, fate-of-NYC. And God above it felt like this was becoming a monthly event. He was looking forward to heading home and taking a good long shower when Spiderman landed next to him.

"Hey Cap, can talk to you? For just a minute?"

As much as he wanted that shower, it was rare to see the cocky and wisecracking Webhead sound insecure. "Certainly. Shall I assume this requires more privacy that an open street?"

"Yeah, that would be good." Spiderman nodded enthusiastically. "We could go to a roof-no you don't have webslingers. That's rude."

Now Cap was getting concerned. Spiderman was acting...very not himself. He lead Spiderman away from the battle to a series of alleys he knew very well. If this was an imposter, he wasn't letting him pick the secondary location and made sure he had an advantage in terrain. Spiderman couldn't get full momentum of his swings here, but he himself could ricochet his shield into a near barrier. "Well?"

"Sorry," Spiderman said after a moment. "I'm trying really hard not to talk myself out of this for a third time."

The third time? Interesting.

He took a deep breath. "My name is Peter. I'm 16 years old. I'm barely keeping my head above water and I need help."