#and here i am trying so hard to be this fuckin independent human being

[judasofsuburbia]

hey team???? why are ur twenties the fucking trenches???? how the fuck do i get out?????

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

BFCD Reviews by Nesha: Final Space, Season 3

Everybody that know me know that I’m high class #Quillective trash and my main thoughts and feelings go out to Quinn Ergon and Gary Goodspeed - precious Gemini gems, and of course the BABIES: Little Cato, Ash and Fox #NeshaLuhDaKids I had some attachment to Avocato once upon a time, but that n***a got on my LAST nerves this season, so we currently at “Do you, Boo” status by the end of S3, and eventually, yes, I’ma get to why that is. 

Disclaimer for somebody who stumbled across this post because of the fandom tags - I am an independent partaker of this content, not “part of the fandom,” and my audience in particular is NOT for everybody. SO: If you may have been criticized in the past for casual racism, tone deafness to Black women’s concerns or accused of misogynoir or antiblackness, leave now. 

If you don’t like cussing, AAVE, general ratchetness and mean lesbian energy, you too might wanna go. A bitch can be eloquent, but I type like I talk, at times, so it is what it is and I don’t curate for kids, dudes, or nonblacks. That’s just what that is.

I wanna start with Ash Graven. This season is about Ash more than anybody else, despite the fact that there was a lot of emphasis on Avocato’s toxic ass man pain and growth in Quinn and Gary’s relationship, ULTIMATELY, nobody in the crew did more coming into fruition as Ash did, and I have a lot to say about her, because I have a lot of feelings.

♡ Ash Graven

1. Ash is a kid. Lol. Everybody got very confused because of the unnecessary transformation that Invictus gave her. Ash did not “grow up,” her body was altered. That’s a fuckin kid in a woman’s body. A kid who has previously been living with survivor’s guilt, parental abuse/neglect/exploitation, chronic trauma, and a disastrous superpower that most people could not be trusted to carry. She’s a child having a coming of age moment in this season that is mostly molded in manipulation. If you hate on Ash, go fuck yourself. ESPECIALLY if I’ve caught you stanning other characters who have been shit characters, in this fandom or not. Ash was dealt a shit hand and nobody had her back but her brothers, and she’s done what she could and thought was best to care for them. Anybody that missed that - just don’t have kids, K.

2. Ash has no parental guidance. As far as she knows, the only adults who have ever had her back are dead and the ones that she’s stuck with now, she GAVE a chance to try to trust them. She gave Quinn a chance to try to see some of Nightfall (the only adult that we’ve seen not exploit her) in her. She gave Gary a chance by choosing him over Clarence, when she had to make a choice. She even gave Clarence’s ass another chance - with which he responded by dying to not fail her. Now, she has Gary, who just a few days or weeks ago, idek, forced her to try to summon her powers while she was both injured and also upset over having to leave her brother behind - TO SAVE HIS GIRLFRIEND! And she got snatched away in the process and left behind with the enemy, to be mentally assaulted and returned changed, only to have them not trust her.

I love Quinn too. I love her dearly. But the facts were that she was dying and having an episode that nobody could really help with, and Gary didn’t take the time or consideration to think about the stress that he was putting on Ash by putting her in the position to make her feel like she needed to save Quinn for him. Whether or not she was the only one who could, that is a lot to put on a child, and not only did he do it, but he didn’t even seem to think that hard about it whenever he then left her ass. Sure, he was glad when she was returned, but that was a fucked up situation that yet another adult put her into, and the first thing that he should have wanted to do when seeing her was to apologize and try to make it right. It was a huge miscalculation to treat her as a potential enemy that he and Avocato needed to vet. EVEN IF that’s what she was to them, both of them should have had the sense to assess while still treating her as the kid that they supposedly knew.

3. Most of her trauma has been recent and continuous. She looked up to Nightfall, watched her die, and had a meltdown. The events from Season 2 (with Clarence almost killing Fox and leaving him to die, her leaving his side to help out, seeing that Sheryl was treacherous to her own son, losing Nightfall), and the events that are taking place in Season 3 are only in the span of a few months.

They were only stranded for a month whenever we see them surviving together. That girl has had more happen to her to hurt her than to help her and nobody around her BUT Little Cato has been sensitive to that. And they are all fucking adults.

These things being noted - changing Ash’s design was the absolute worse fucking thing. Aging a girl up to make the bad things that follow more palatable is what that seems to be. Ash is still a kid. And THEN, they allegedly made her a queer kid. I say allegedly, because that “reveal” was so poorly done and subtle and weak that I, an almost 40 year old queer, didn’t realize that that’s what they meant whenever they said that they were gonna reveal somebody as a character who is part of the LGBT community.

So... FS production just gon’ decide not only to transform her body into that of a woman, when her mind is still full on traumatized child and hormonal teenager, but also, she likes girls, and they didn’t even do it in a cohesive way that added to the story. They threw it in, like, “BTW, she likes girls, and also, she’s full grown now.” then immediately went for the “Villain” lever, and bitches just ate that shit up. Fuck y’all, forreal. 

& Fox

He didn’t deserve that shit. And, I know a lot of people felt that he was pointless and boring, but his ass was sweet and caring and searching for love and acceptance. As a background character, I liked him. But, he was literally just fodder for Ash’s downfall, which was unfair and problematic, considering that his ass is definitely Black coded. Don’t play. He was voiced by a Black man, spoke with a blaccent, and definitely would be read as Black if you wasn’t looking at him and seeing an alien. They gave him a sacrificial negro trope, the big friendly negro that can kill you but loves everybody trope, and they used his death to just push some narrative forward to set up the one verified queer character as a villain. They got they ass in a vehicle and rolled right over another Black character, and another queer character. Chile...

 ♡ Little Cato!!!

My precious have not been getting some good for too long, and I have had it. He’s not focused on so much this season as he is in the background of other people’s stories, but a very important takeaway is and will always be that Little Cato, aside from Fox, really was the only one here who consistently treated her like she mattered, so it made a lot of sense that he could be the catalyst for her finally having ENOUGH with these people.

I really wish that he could have found out the truth about his past from Avocato, because that’s really who OWED him that truth, but Ash did the thing that I’d expect and told him, to be honest with him. She even told him that Avocato wanted to tell him and that she took that right away from him, because she didn’t believe he deserved it, and I’m respecting her for that, too. I wish she could see how much it hurt Little Cato for her to try to take him away from his home. 

Little Cato has lived before, for a while, and he’s not mature enough to behave as a man, but he at least has a loving foundation to draw from, and having had that support, this is more of his home than it is Ash’s. He doesn’t know how to explain that to her, and she doesn’t know how to understand that for him. Just a tragic situation for two kids with a lot of problems.

♡ Quinn Ergon & Gary Goodspeed

Quinnary notes that might not be featured in the BFCD Reviews by Nesha:  (Quinn Ergon/Nightfall x Gary Goodspeed) rundown - 

I've had two favorite parts of this season so far and they're very mediocre things that you wouldn't think would be like my favorite part but they are. One of them was that the first thing Gary does when she wakes up is to ask her about her sister (someone obviously very important to her who he's previously promised to allow to let live through Quinn's memory and says he wants to hear about her when he's trying to keep Quinn from dying). Because... He really did care and wasn't just saying something to keep her.

Quinn's mother fucked her up in a way that is so frustrating because Black mamas really will traumatize you about their younger kids. That shit hurt. You showed your daughter dead bodies to make her think about that in the event that your other daughter might be in battle? Bitch wtf

Whenever we say that Black girls are programmed to put everybody ahead of us, that's unfortunately not just including Society, it's in households too. And Quinn comes from this place where that is her reality... Then she meets Gary and he doesn't even register for her as anything special. He doesn't appear impressive or incredible in any way... But he (admittedly) weirdly locks on to her and shares himself - thinking that he's showing himself to her, and ultimately he DOES. And he wants to see her too, beyond all this, who she is, at her most humane. He wants to know about her sister. About someone who mattered to her enough to have the helm of her trauma when she was out of touch with reality. Very soft. Very sweet.

The other was when they were talking about how they met and stuff and Gary absolutely cringed thinking about how corny he was when he approached this woman. A lot of dudes never do that. The complaint of earlier seasons that Gary was overbearing, obsessive and creepy , if you missed the fact that he has terrible abandonment issues from his father’s death and his mother’s rejection, here we have him, in his adult state, looking back at the way he was and being embarrassed about it, and that’s growth!

A close third is whenever at the beginning of the Season he says "Quinn it's been a month eventually you have to open up to me about what you've been through" and she says "I will in time" and he respects it but he reiterates that he's there whenever she needs him. I don't think that people realize how revolutionary that kind of statement is especially for a character like Quinn to hear - who has always felt like she had to take charge, had to take the lead, had to make the sacrifice.

Even when she realized that she was dying, she didn't want to burden him with the information. Not even like ‘a thing that she knew if that could help prevent it and she didn't want him to have to go after it,’ but... she didn't even want him to have to deal with knowing about it!

Maybe she thought that she would just drop, maybe she didn't realize that he was going to have to see her in that condition. And then once she realized that he was going to have to see her in that condition one of the first things she says is "I should have told you." Girl is on her deathbed wishing she had done it differently, for Gary's benefit.

I saw somebody on Twitter tried to come for her about not going to Gary after he killed Fox (you know, shortly after her surgery to save her from the very brink of death, and listen... Quinn comes to see about Gary when she can. She’s done it several times. In fact, I’ma make a whole POST about Quinn and Gary moments SPECIFICALLY to point out to haters in the main tag - where they got Quinn Ergon, and by extension, me, FUCKED UP.

Stop Playing in Quinn Face

HI! HELLO. ACTUALLY MY FAVORITE PART OF THIS SEASON IS THAT QUINN AND GARY JUST FUCKED. THANK YOU VERY MUCH. THANKS. OK. Back 2 bidness

See.. after Gary and Quinn got over the humps of Quinn’s Final Space poisoning... everyone got it... nobody told her until Avocato was mad and told her during a lash out, and let me say something about Avocato’s fucking audacity this season... 

♡ Avocato (Note: His name is A-V-O-C-A-T-O. Some of y’all be tryna stan and y’all can’t even spell his name.)

I done seent Avacata, Avocata... That’s not that dude name. Be writing whole ass expositions about some other Ventrexian n*gga. Hope this helps:

AVOCATO. Listen, boy. YOU decided to be a traitor to your people and your king and queen. YOU decided to dedicate your cause to the Lord Commander and lied to your son his entire life about killing his parents, raising him, and never talking to him about it.

Yet and STILL - whenever you had the chance to finally tell him, you ain’t do the shit. Lord Commander gave you the perfect ass opportunity - WHEN IT CAME UP, and even then, with that boy looking you dead in the face and being glad that now he knows everything... you ain’t Ventrexian man up.

Then, whenever you were supposed to be checking on Gary after his traumatic murder fight with Fox and Invictus, you turned it around and literally made it about you. attacking him in the process and only after a physical fight did you apologize. (And y’all still didn’t get back to what had happened to Gary, which was no real fault of his own). 

Fast forward to after you willingly agreed to stay behind and fight and y’all lost. Now, it was Quinn’s turn to be the center of your blame and you lashed out at her because everybody is dying, despite the fact that y’all agreed to stay behind and fight, nobody even told her that y’all were sick, AND you still wasn’t 100 with Little Cato. 

You just had a lot of mothafuckin audacity this season, Avocato, and I personally was not here for the shit. Even when Ash blasted yo ass, your main thought was to threaten to kill her if she took Little Cato, instead of assuring her that despite what you’ve done, Little Cato was safe with you. No, she wouldn’t have listened to you. But, the words you chose tell us about who you are and how you are. You a war mongering killer that don’t ever take responsibility for his shit, and even in those brief moments that you do, its always somebody else’s problem. 

I’da thunk that LC getting snatched away would be humbling for you, but I guess you were chosen by the writers for minimal growth. Bye, Avocato. Witcha bitch ass. We is not cool right now, but you do you. Hope you find some growth up there in ya ass, where ya head been. 😁 Can’t believe I mourned yo ass. You coulda stayed dead as hell.

FINALE NOTES:

OK BITCH OK THIS FINALE WAS HYPE!

Let me pull it up so that I can liveblog it for the shit that I need to conclude this journey. 

We start out after Ash done took Little Cato and burnt off. Gary and AVOCATO done said they finna go get they son. Chile, I cannot handle Biskit voice. I like that lil’ dude but ya voice, Mane. I can’t with it. 

OK OK OK... Whenever Quinn comes up to Gary to talk to him and say potential goodbyes, she look like she wanna say some and that makes me think about whenever she looked like she wanted to say something in season 1 and didn’t. Quinn as grown a lot in her feelings for Gary, but she still has that hard time with talking about her feelings, but I love that you can see them in her face.

Chile... these folk was kinda taking they time gettin started, huh? Knuckas, do y’all remember that everybody finna die of FS poisoning? Lol. Also... why didn’t they start hallucinating and shit? I guess its not until it covers ya face? 

NIGHTFALL. 😥 I love you, Sis. I miss you. But, “Because I’m you and WE think of everything...” YES. I HAVE BEEN SAYING THAT! EVERYBODY EXPECTS QUINN TO THINK OF EVERYTHING AND WHENEVER THEY DON’T THINK OF THE THINGS, SHE GETS BLAMED FOR MAKING THE TOUGH DECISIONS THAT NOBODY ELSE COULD EVEN MAKE. Underappreciated, really. And people still mark Nightfall as a villain, despite the fact that she not only sacrificed herself, but also came specifically to help another Gary. Sidenote - Nightfall didn’t actually pursuit Quinn’s Gary until Quinn was trapped in Final Space and she thought she got a signal from him. So, I’m still salty AF that she been labelled as a villain just because people don’t like her, when her actions have all been to try to help. Here is no difference. She thought of the things that she didn’t think a younger version of her would think of, and left it for Quinn to find. Nightfall be on RNS, and most of y’all didn’t deserve her.

Quinn’s identity crisis is so sad, but I liked that Nightfall EVEN thought about that. And Sheryl... you kinda starting to grow on me. I hate to give shitty mothers who find compassion in old chance a try, but she do seem to really be giving it a go. 

Ash is so fucked up that she rushes right into the devil’s arms. This reminds me of when trafficking victims go back to their abusers because they don’t have the resources to adjust in the system. 😪 She REALLY believes what she’s saying. She really feels like Little Cato is safer with Invictus with the Team Squad. That’s sad as fuck, bruh. 

THE. ACTING. AND. ARTWORK. IN. THIS. CONFRONTATION. SCENE.

Avocato... I’m proud of you for FINALLY taking responsibility ad opening up about it. Little Cato’s reaction is precisely how kids in the system are, as well. They wanna be at home with their parents, no matter who their parents are or what they’ve done. and Avocato meant what he said and did what I referred to earlier as “Ventraxian man up.”

“I’m sorry we failed you,” from Gary was so important. Because, they technically did fail her. Had Ash seen the same amount of love from Gary as she’s seen him give to others, she might have been more receptive to the truth and less susceptible to lies. But, as she had just said earlier, it was too late for kind words. She’s currently beyond accepting them from him. For a brief moment, it breaks through, but without that ability to know love from an adult properly, she can’t accept that apology right now.

H.U.E. with his big robot, Lord Commander...EYE. There’s so much happening right now bitch processing has left the room girl. Biskit did so damn much this episode. And it was good to see everybody on the team have a moment to help things, instead of like one person having to handle the bulk of things. 

Quinn’s begging voice... its such a contrast from whenever she sent out the SOS in season 1 and was afraid and angry. Like... the desperation here shows her softness. 

Ash’s RAGE Bitch...

Gary’s “I love you...” She looked so happy! And then she just sat with it. I feel like she definitely loves him too, but she doesn’t communicate that way. But, her FACE. She was just... did she think that he didn’t before, or was she just speechless because she didn’t expect to hear it? Because, we gotta be real... Sis probably has not ever heard those words from anybody before. And that first time, when it’s really there is a DOOZIE. She had an abusive mother, a seemingly jealous or competitive sister, and we saw how nobody in the Infinity Guard respected her ass when she was serving them the real. I think this is the first time she’s been in love or felt it and when Gary said it, she had to collect herself. The way she ran to him and jumped into his arms??? SHIPPING CRACK. And Mooncake was a part of their hug too. I have a lot of feelings about this dynamic since Quinn and Mooncake are the only characters that we’ve seen Gary have these “love at first sight” reactions to and Mooncake is the first character that I recall Quinn being nice to in S1. 

So.. my heart was very full when they ripped it from my chest moments later. Mooncake has been watching Team Squad members be self sacrificing for a little while now, and he loves his family and Gary so much that he rushes straight towards danger. (Sure, I don’t think that he estimated how powerful Ash could be at this moment), but he had to at least consider that he might be caught or left behind.

Bitch, Ash is GONE. She said, “Fuck all y’all!” Not knowing whether or not Mooncake is destroyed makes it very hard for me to know how much I can stand this, but I also want to hope that he is gonna survive. Quinn having to make the decision to lightfold is hella sad, but even though Gary is destroyed, he has to know that this is exactly how Ash must’ve felt whenever he had to make the call to leave Fox behind. She hated to do that to Gary. She even seemed more regretful about it than Gary did whenever he had to leave Fox and when he left Ash. Sure, its because she loves him more than he loved Fox and Ash, but its a terrible position to be in to have to hurt somebody you love like that. On the other hand, they gave her hella shit for them not escaping when could have the first time, so naturally, she was going to make this decision. 

It very much sucks that Invictus is free and my brain can’t eeem FATHOM what that means for everything and everybody, but the Final Space poisoning left the Team Squad’s system, so maybe there is a rejuvenation of some sort in Invictus’ power? Or does Final Space poisoning leave your system as soon as you leave Final Space? I don’t think that was clarified. 

Anyways, I still don’t hate Ash. Y’all can say whatever about it, but I see sad white boys get forgiven all day every day on this site, and I’m upset, but I’m not letting my baby go. I’m not cheering her on, but unless she dies, I’m gonna hope for the best for her, like I said here. 

DAMN this season was some shit. Ionknow if I’m emotionally capable of watching another season of Final Space in progress. If they make it back for another season, I will most likely just wait until the end to dive in and let them shock my senses all at once instead of on a weekly goddamn basis, because GODDAMN GODDAMN GODDDAMN!

@andromidagalaxie @daintyurbanprincess @shslargue @space-finally​  The Quinnary Moments Masterlist probably won’t be ready by Quinn’s birthday, since her birthday is the day before Juneteenth, but I’ve started on a little fic that I might have the first installment of posted by then. We shall see. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Here is my JOURNEY during my first watch of the first two seasons of the show. (I watched Season 3 in progress and waited until it was over to write up this review) and my probably incoherent tag of whenever I do me a lil’ liveblogging: Nesha Watches Final Space, and here is my review on Quinnary: BFCD Reviews by Nesha: (Quinn Ergon/Nightfall x Gary Goodspeed) FINAL SPACE

[watchtheblog]

play dough

when i was 7 or 8 years old, a girl asked me what my allowance was and - after she explained what the fuck an allowance was - i told her i didn’t have an allowance because i was poor.

a few days later, my mother beat my asssssss for saying that. i guess the girl had told her mom… who then told my mom… who then beat my fuckin ass!

i have no idea how i knew that what we were was “poor” or who had made me feel like that, or if i even FELT like that, or if it was just a thing i knew to be true. i hardly have memories of being a kid, but we lived in a studio apartment as a family of four until i was 12 years old and we were - relatively speaking, for new york city - poor.

my parents were savvy with money — that’s why i went to a boarding school in london when my parents’ combined income was less than $100,000. my parents were also shady with money — that’s why i wasn’t allowed to go back to that school my senior year for 5 weeks because the tuition hadn’t been paid. and that’s why i’m paying back loans my parents took out in my name to pay for my education at columbia.

yesterday i posted a DM from someone asking how i “fund” my vacations. i responded that i fund my vacations the way i assume everyone does: with money made from working. i also wrote a caption explaining succinctly what i’m rambling on about here now.

someone who i guess can’t read responded accusing me of “being ashamed of being a rich kid”.

when i explicitly clarified that i am not a rich kid and that i have worked for everything i have, this stranger told me that my “schtick” of “driving a porsche, shopping at the supermarket erewhon, and spending weeks on vacation” makes my followers presume i live off family money.

when i read this message i was so convinced that my experience was not valid that i let a stranger gaslight me into believing driving a car, getting groceries, and going on vacation indicate family wealth… when i’m literally not the spawn of wealthy people.

none of those things are suggestive of someone who grew up privileged or rich, any more than they are of someone who has worked for their money.

like, yes, people with rich parents drive nice cars and go on vacation… but so do tik tok stars, and teenagers with youtubes. and so does ariana grande, go after her!

the only reason someone would equate these things to “being raised rich” is if the person were purposefully refusing to believe a human being is capable of being successful and making their own money.

the reason my mom beat me for saying i was poor was because i was “telling our business”. she cared so deeply what people thought of her, of us. no one should ever know when our lights get turned off, or when we don’t have dinner, or when we unplug the landline because debt collectors are calling.

obviously these are moments that don’t need to be shared with the world, but when you’re a child experiencing things and concurrently learning that they are secrets, your parents’ insidious shame surrounding money gets passed on to you. at a certain point, our commitment to keeping our issues with money a secret was the only thing that bonded us. 

we were doing the bow wow challenge before bow wow...

i’ve worked really hard to not have money be a source of shame for me, and to be independent and make a life for myself with no help from anyone so it’s anathema to me that a stranger would so flagrantly and erroneously try to discredit me and my accomplishments, which is why - to the chagrin of most of my friends - i am insistent on engaging with people about things that are none of their business.

also, like my mother, i care so deeply about what people think of me, so i responded to the message, clarifying that my parents are not rich, and that i am a writer. the stranger then told me that it’s unbelievable that my job as a QUOTE writer UNQUOTE would afford me this lifestyle.

i used to say “i’m a ‘writer’” when i was a personal assistant making $50,000 a year. i used to say it when i was a coat check girl making $200 a night. when i first moved to LA, and had no money, i ate one sweet potato a day and wrote nonsense that no one was paying me for for hours. i’d still tell people “i’m a ‘writer’.”

and i used to be embarrassed.

i’ve lived my entire life never being vocal about my accomplishments for fear of seeming like i’m bragging, or for the want to make myself small so others around me can feel big. i can never gas myself up unless it’s in response to someone tearing me down, but here we are so let me stand up:

i’m a writer. no quotation marks.

that’s how i make my living, that’s how i pay my bills, that’s how i support the family i support.

i’m also financially chaotic and reckless. (THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVICE) up until a few years ago i had tens of thousands of dollars in credit card debt from taking trips and vacations i knew i couldn’t afford. two summers ago i made $7500 in a few months on a random $600 stock investment ($FTSV). i took all that money and did the most new money thing i’ve ever done — i bought myself a diamond ring.

i eat microwave tortellini from trader joe’s five nights a week and no i’m not gonna play myself by posting that to instagram - but if you don’t believe me you can ask my friend austin because i send him a photo of it 3 out of the 5 nights.

i also go to europe on vacation every summer because i deserve to spend the money i make the way i want.

instagram is for posting your wins. you should want to see the people you follow on instagram posting their wins. and if your inclination to seeing someone win is to be jealous or incredulous, then you need to reevaluate what goes on in your house before trying to tear down theirs.

i came up. you can leave.

we been getting money :)

*** anyway! this entire thing is very tacky so if you really didn’t want to believe that i don’t come from money, you can BET someone with money would never ever expose themselves to the indignity of speaking about money like this. ta da!

[lokidiabolus]

The Deal - Bonus

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (web series)

Pairing: Alastor / Angel Dust

Warnings: human!Angel Dust (Anthony), Deal with a devil AU

Summary: Sometimes you had nobody to spend the Christmas with. Sometimes you didn’t want to. Sometimes you took a chalk and drew a pentagram on the floor fully ready to deal with anything that would come out as an alternative to self-pity occurring otherwise.

or

The time when Anthony thought if he can’t get anybody to love him properly, he can just make a deal with a devil and find out what affection feels like. Alastor thinks this mortal is pitiful beyond belief and concede. Cuddles happen.

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: I swear NOW it’s done lmao.

Unbetad!

2024, 275th day

It was rather unexpected to see this kind of development, when it came to the form Anthony took in Hell. When Alastor gave it some thought here and there (more often than he would admit, granted), he could imagine Anthony as some sort of cat demon the most. There was something feline about the man when alive – the unpredictability maybe? He wasn’t sure.

So when the Hell opened to swallow yet another sinner – and the sinner was his beau – his expectations were about everywhere but in what he actually saw once he located the trembling creature in the Pentagram outskirts.

A spider demon. White as fallen snow, but covered in his own blood, six arms and two long, long legs and tear stained face, trembling in Alastor’s arms like a frightened child. The last few months of Anthony’s life were fluctuating and the more Alastor had to stay in Hell to deal with Vox, the more Anthony’s light was dimming, and Alastor knew that, he saw what was happening, how the will was weakening and the desire to join him here winning over. A selfish, petty part of him thought good, finally, come to me but at the same time Anthony was young, so, so young to die, it made him indecisive and when was the last time he felt like that? If ever? Not even during his own life and death he never doubted, but with Anthony… he wanted him to be his without remorse. No regrets, no sadness over his life ending.

But now here he was. Finally calming down, the trembling subsiding, the pain from his face easing away until he was just resting in Alastor’s arms, breathing deeply. An adorable spider, caught in the web of his own inner demons… maybe it was fitting.

***

“You are pouting for an hour already.”

“I’m sorry to rain on yer parade, but I’m a fuckin’ spider monster,” Anthony flashed him an unhappy sneer and glared at his reflection in the mirror for umpteenth time, his eyes narrowing, sharp teeth baring just to growl and turn away from it once more. “Who fuckin’ picks this? What did I do to deserve bein’ a six-armed horror?!”

“But imagine how good are you going to be at hugging,” Alastor couldn’t stop himself from grinning, even though Anthony was clearly distressed by his new look, but there was simply no reason to be. He was such an adorable creature, white and pink and soft and cushy. If he wasn’t walking around like a ticking bomb, swearing at each step, Alastor would definitely be trying the new cuddle arrangement. But there was time for everything.

There was eternity for them now.

“I could hug with two arms just fine!”

“Maybe I would like to be hugged with six,” Alastor shot back, which stopped Anthony in his stomping with a defeated sigh.

“But… spider,” he whined, gesturing to his lanky body and abundance of limbs, and ironically all Alastor could see was a cute pouty face and dangerous claws he honestly found threateningly appealing – all six clawed hands with them. Anthony just couldn’t see past the shock yet, but Alastor had means to make him so.

“And a deer,” the red-eyed demon smiled at him from the table he was sitting behind.

“All ya have is a cute Bambi tail and ears, big deal,” Anthony rolled his eyes – his unevenly coloured eyes, Alastor mentally added, which was fascinating – and glanced down at his feet with a frown.

“If that is all you can see, then I suppose I am a lucky man,” Alastor tapped on one of the radios near him and smooth jazz started playing. True, he never had a single issue with his demonic appearance, even when he first arrived here. At this regard he was always a perfectionist, so all of him the others could see was perfectly tailored to show his dominance. Nothing about him was cute, no matter what Anthony was saying. Not the tail, not the ears. He was an Overlord, demons feared him.

Well, except of this particular case, that is. But Anthony was special, he was allowed.

“Oh yeah, I forgot, handsome guys are scary as fuck,” Anthony grumbled, but there was some sort of playfulness in his voice, which signalized his mood was getting better. “Pretty sure all demons just run at sight of ya, oh nooo. Pretty guy inbound, ruuuuun~.”

“They do run though,” Alastor smiled at him sweetly. “Different circumstances though.”

“Yer dad jokes, huh,” the pretty spider smirked at him, softening the rudeness. “Don’t blame them.”

“Now now, Anthony,” Alastor tapped his claws against the table, stopping any other eventual teasing that would definitely follow, because Anthony never left things at only one jab when he had a chance. “If you are done with your moping, how about you come here?”

There was an evident hesitation in the demon’s features, insecurity written in his whole body language, but Alastor was patient and willing to show him there was nothing to feel insecure about. Only proud.

He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing, and Anthony let out a squeak when a pair of shadowy hands curled around his waist, gently pushing him forward like walking a child on the first day out.

“Aww, hi Al Junior,” Anthony cooed back at the Shadow, which gave him a raggedy grin in return. Evidently too happy to see him, that for sure. Even more evidently appreciative about Anthony’s new look as well. “Haven’t seen ya both in one room yet, that’s new.”

The Shadow waddled him all the way to Alastor’s desk and nuzzled his neck from behind, obviously delighted about the experience. Anthony patted him with one of the six hands, still not that good at coordinating them all, apparently, and Alastor cleared his throat while tapping against the table again.

One more nuzzle and then the shadow slithered away, blending into the walls, and Alastor would have sworn if it could, it would stick its tongue at him.

“Hehe,” Anthony looked happy though, which was amendable, and then finally circled the mahogany desk and stood next to Alastor comfortably sitting in his chair. He let himself to be touched on his thin waist, lower on his hip, then back up on his chest – fluffy chest, if anybody asked, so, so fluffy – and then let Alastor took one of his hands and gently pull him on his lap, sitting on his legs carefully like he could shatter any moment.

“There~,” Alastor crooned. “Not that hard, was it?”

“Might be even easier with the voice,” Anthony suggested meekly, like he was asking for something risky, and Alastor circled one of his arms around his waist and touched his face with the other.

“Whateva you want, darlin’,” he spoke softly and Anthony’s smile widened. “Feelin’ better now?”

“Yeah…” the spider demon nodded curtly. “Still weird, but I’ll get over it.”

“Don worry, I’ll be there fer you every step on da way,” Alastor tilted his head down and gently pressed their lips together. “Promise.”

He was right – six armed hugs were absolute heaven.

***

2024, 277th day

“Huh.”

Alastor took several more steps before he realized Anthony stopped all of sudden, staring at the vending machine sitting between dark corners of dubious streets filled with vermin. He was staring at the lowest button, head tilted, and Alastor returned to him with a silent question in his eyes.

Not that Anthony noticed, his eyes were glued to the vending machine with something akin to wonder, and when Alastor glanced down at the point of the spider’s interest, he noticed Angel Dust written there in all italics.

“Fuckin’ swell, huh,” Anthony mumbled more to himself than to Alastor, judging from his expression. “That this would be here too.”

Alastor knew how Anthony died, of course he did. PCP overdose might have come as a surprise, but at the same time they talked about it when Anthony’s heart was still beating. His coping mechanism, his addiction, his attachment to something that could ease the state of despair. If Vox didn’t get in Alastor’s way, maybe there would be a possibility to prolong his life for few more years.

But then again Alastor would be lying if he said he regretted having Anthony here with him, finally. He wasn’t that much of a good guy for playing a Good Samaritan (if even a little, honestly), and if Anthony wasn’t in such a bad state at the beginning of their deal, he would probably (definitely) drag him to Hell right away, especially after being asked to be killed from the get go.

“Anything you can think of,” Alastor commented. “Any drug. Any alcohol. Any poison. Any weapon. It is all here. And worse.”

“Hell yeah,” Anthony chuckled bitterly and averted his eyes from the nameplate, little raw at the edges, vulnerable. Still so new, still so open. “Oh well. Sorry. Let’s go.”

Alastor made sure they didn’t pass any other vending machine on their way back to the Radio Tower.

***

2024, 285th day

It wasn’t like he wanted to make a habit of spying on Anthony, but once the spider demon left the tower on his own and ventured to the city, he had his reasons to make sure he would make it back home in one piece. Barely any demon would notice the shadow of a person was different unless really looking, and he kind of doubted Anthony would meet anybody like that on his first independent stroll anyway.

There wasn’t much the spider had planned, from the way he behaved outside. He just wandered around, peeking into shops and avoiding trouble, then peeking into more shops, got some clothes and then practiced his totally not six armed spider act when he managed to hide the middle set of arms like they were never there. Alastor didn’t know he could actually do that, but he was impressed anyway.

He had several cat-calling demons around whistling at him while skilfully flipping them off, and in case they wouldn’t be deterred, the Shadow blinked at them menacingly and they scuttered to dark corners like filthy rats.

It was nothing out of ordinary until a dark purple limo stopped at the edge of the sidewalk he walked on, pulling down the window just to reveal the Princess of Hell herself smiling nervously, calling at Anthony in her bright princess-y voice. Now that was interesting for sure.

“Hey,” Anthony blinked in surprise at her sudden invitation to get in, obviously not having a single clue who the girl was. “Daddy told me not to talk to strangers.”

Alastor totally did not choke on that.

The princess laughed, bright and happy and shook her head while opening the doors of the limo wide open.

“We won’t do anything bad,” she assured him, and there was another girl next to her in the car, though Alastor had never met her. Her displeased expression was spot on though. The princess dragged her closer, leaning her near the opening of the doors. “I’m Charlie, this is Vaggie! We just want to talk a little?”

“Ya can talk with me standing right ‘ere,” Anthony crossed all his four arms, eyes looking her up and down, not budging. “Whaddya want?”

“Weeeeell-,”

“What is your name, mister?” Vaggie stared him down pointedly, her voice sharp as a knife. Anthony visibly hesitated, then glanced away to the rest of the street. They talked about it shortly after Anthony got to Hell – not everybody wanted to keep their human name. Alastor did because he was not a fan of aliases, The Radio Demon nickname just happened on its own. Anthony didn’t seem to be in need of getting any kind of demon name either, but now there was an obvious reluctance in his features.

“Angel Dust,” he looked back at them, the drug name slipping past his lips. Intriguing. “Ya can call me Angel, toots.”

Vaggie didn’t look impressed but Charlie was smiling like a sunshine. When they started spouting nonsense about rehabilitating a demon in one of a repurposed royal family’s buildings, Alastor laughed so hard he almost let the Shadow spill it out.

It was only an hour later when Angel burst into the Radio Tower, dropped the shopping bags and yelled:

“Ya won’t fuckin’ believe what I’m just gonna tell ya, I shit ya not!”

Just few days later the 666 News broadcasted Charlie’s plan live (with an immense failure in the reception, but that was expected) and Alastor got a brilliant idea. Out of everybody involved, Charlie was probably on the board of it the most.

***

2024, 300th day

The hotel was a whack. It was a total fucking ruin in dire need of reconstruction. Angel didn’t know what the hell was repurposed here, but it must have been hiding in a basement because the rest of it screamed ancient. Not that any part of Hell was pretty or anything, but at least some of it had class. Ironically the most class was visible in the Lust circle in porn studios, but Angel was not getting even near of that filthy lair, that for sure (not to mention Alastor didn’t even let him wander too close, probably for a good reason. Said something about moths. Angel didn’t question it).

Niffty made a bit more presentable though, scurrying around the hallways like a sonic Roomba and at least the entrance hall looked nicer once Alastor was done with it.

Alastor The Radio Demon, Angel learned. An Overlord even. Vaggie was super into telling him how bad and evil and absolute horror-ish Alastor was, how bloodthirsty and merciless, and Angel just thought of his Bambi tail wagging when they hugged and kind of spaced out.

Sure, guy had a reputation. Angel saw some flattering posters in the 666 News studios with BEWARE !!! HIM and RADIO SOUNDS = STAY AWAY and DO NOT FUCK WITH HIM but if Alastor was anything, a cuddler would be the right description. Also probably a cold-hearted murderer, but nobody was perfect.

He told the girls he was new and had barely any kind of comprehension of Hell’s inner workings back there when they stopped in in the city, and obviously that immediately must have raised red flags when he got to the Hotel just few days later with Alastor leading him in and keeping him close like a pet on an invisible leash (though not really a pet, Angel was just super amused by the height difference, so he stuck close to him for shit and giggles).

“You can stay here, Angel,” Charlie was just telling him in a shushed whisper when they walked through the hallways, Alastor several steps in front of them, looking around with wide smile on his face. Fucker was definitely enjoying it, but even Angel felt rather giddy about it.

“Here?” he imitated her low voice and she quickly glanced towards Alastor humming a tune and twirling his microphone.

“You know. If you need a place to stay,” she gestured towards the deer demon quickly.

Oh. Oh. She thought he feared Alastor or something? Or that Alastor kept him around against his will? A big bad Overlord and a newbie, what else would she think, right?

“Can’t do, Cha-Cha, made a deal with this guy,” he made finger guns pointed at the red-clothed figure with his all four arms. “Hands are tied.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s eyes widened for a second, like she was saying oh no, you fucked for good, gurl and then hesitantly nodded. “I see. But… I mean. It depends on the deal, of course, but… If you needed to stay away or something, you understand?”

“I fear that just won’t do, my dear!” Alastor’s voice thundered through the hallway cheerily, loud as fuck, even though he was standing few meters away from them. “I own his heart, you see. He cannot leave even if he wanted to.”

Charlie’s eyes widened even more, and Angel had to bite his lips to stop himself from laughing. How fucking vague, just playing it like Angel was suffering in the Radio Demon presence.  

“Isn’t that right, my dear Angel?”

“Oh yes, poor me,” the spider demon swooned dramatically. “Can’t leave ever! He’d totally find me and cu-,” ddle me to death, he wanted to say, Alastor’s eyes warning him not to, “-t me to death! Double death even.”

Charlie started to visibly panic. Oh damn, she was so naïve, it was fun.

“Do not be alarmed, princess,” Alastor assured her with a chuckle. “No cutting needed. Angel is quite knowledgeable in his duties.”

“Pffft.”

“Aren’t you, my dear.”

“’bsolutely,” Angel saluted him. “Controlled by fear and fear only.”

There was a mischievous gleam in Alastor’s eyes right before he turned around and continued his way through the raggedy hotel, resuming the tune. Angel patted the small woman on the top of her head, but still wasn’t sure if she got it was all a joke or she unironically feared for his life.

***

2024, 304th day

She feared for his life. She kept on trying to get him to stay overnight in the hotel for therapies and fun activities and movie nights and Angel was wondering how to break it out to her without revealing Alastor was a big softie who liked to snuggle in bed (and honestly he liked it even more now, in Hell, and Angel was wondering if it was because he was fluffier or because Alastor was just happy he didn’t need to keep fearing if he didn’t leave the stove or lights on in Radio Tower when up in the land of living).

From all he gathered during the days he spent in Hell by now, Alastor was a big thing around the Pentagram City. As one of the Overlords and one not hellborn on top of that he harnessed tremendous power through fear, his shady as fuck deals and radio broadcasts where he delivered the carnage for everybody to hear. Angel didn’t listen to any yet, but he was sure he would eventually, when Alastor would feel like letting him on it.

“She thinks yer abusing me,” he said while petting the red hair gently, lying on his back in the bed. The red sheets were silky and felt really nice around him and he doubted Alastor owned anything that was not red or black, like a walking, talking stereotype. Classy though.

“I am abusin’ you,” Alastor agreed from Angel’s fluffy chest, where his face was buried. He had been cuddling Angel for the past hour, like it was one of those days when he didn’t feel like being big bad deer and just stayed in the tower, making Angel spoil him. Then there were days he didn’t feel like being touched at all, unless it was at night when sleeping, and Angel was starting to be a real pro in reading those moods in his natural environment. Sometimes Al Junior gave him a hint even before Alastor appeared in flesh, and it was appreciated. Alastor wasn’t really making a big fuss when touched in his untouchable mood but the way he stiffened was red enough light for Angel to give him space.

“Yeah, yer a menace, I need to pee for like twenty minutes now,” Angel sighed and his poor bladder with him.

“Unfortunate.”

“Well, it’s yer bed I’m gonna pee in, so suit yerself,” he shrugged and Alastor huffed out a laugh. It was nice he could laugh at Angel’s crude jokes now, since before he just told him off.

“Don worry ‘bout the demon belle,” Alastor mumbled sleepily. “She’s just too nice fer her own good.”

“Aw, she’s a cutie tho,” Angel pulled a little at Alastor’s ear and it flicked. “Enthusiastic and all that shit, I guess ye don’t see that down here often.”

“Barely,” Alastor hummed.

“Well, if anybody can rehabilitate a demon, it’s her,” Angel pulled the other ear and it flicked too. Cute.

“Mmm,” his companion let out. “Don’t be too much of a good boy, darlin’. I refuse to part wit you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that,” Angel chuckled warmly at Alastor affectionate speech. “They’d have to kill me to take me away from ya.”

“You ‘nd me both.”

Angel thought if Charlie saw Alastor like this, she’d definitely coo at him. Honestly, he kind of wanted her to, for funsies, but maybe it was better to leave sleeping deer lie.

***

2024, 310th day

“Cupcakes?!”

“Ugh.”

Angel ignored Alastor’s sound of distaste and grabbed Charlie’s hands in all four of his, eyes shining.

“Ya mean like real ones?! Not like… sugar water ones, right?” He was craving sweet things and Hell had shit. The best things came from topside and apparently not as many demons ventured there for ingredients, so Angel was seriously super low on sugar.

“Yeah!” she smiled at him happily and nodded towards the kitchen because he was still holding her hands like a vice, but she seemed to be fine with it. “We thought we could try baking them tonight!”

Another obvious attempt to get him stay the night, he knew. But cupcakes. It was like… the only bait that could potentially work, apart from Frappuccino orgy and pole dancing. She gave a vibe like she wouldn’t condone the latter though.

He sent Alastor a pleading puppy eyes and the demon let out a defeated sigh. He didn’t even need to say anything, he was just done. Angel didn’t blame him, he was bothering him about sweets for days now and since Alastor disliked those, he was driving a hard bargain every damn day.

 It was an obvious plan, really. The baking didn’t start before nine in the evening and Charlie made sure only the patients were attending, which meant only Angel, really (the hotel didn’t have many patients so far, and by many I mean none) and Charlie as a main helper. Vaggie joined them around half past nine with a badly hidden curiosity and Niffty kept running around, sweeping crumbs that had the audacity to touch the floor, and if she had nothing to sweep, she helped them with filling the forms, quite skilled for such a little lady.

“Here I thought Husky would be leading the baking party,” Angel commented when they put the first batch into the oven and Vaggie made a snorting noise somewhere behind the counter.

“Busy pouring drinks for Happy face,” she shot back while mixing the dough in the bowl. “He’s lounging at the bar like a shark, just waiting for a drop of blood.”

“Fitting,” Angel had to agree, though in much better light than Vaggie meant it. Charlie’s enthusiastic expression fell slightly and Angel just knew she got him here for a talk or two. Maybe even an all-nighter.

“Angel,” she started, swiping her hair behind her ear like she always did when nervous. “I know you said you made a deal with him and all-,”

“Careless of you, by the way,” Vaggie added with a sigh. “His deals always have a catch; you can never win.”

Angel leaned against the counter, giving them his full attention, which seemed to encourage Charlie a little. Maybe it was for the best to get them let it out of their chests and then ease their minds, no matter what Alastor would say about it. He knew his partner enjoyed people grasping for straws and worry, but neither Charlie or Vaggie deserved that – in both death and life combined they were the nicest girls he ever talked to, when he didn’t count his mum and sister. Sure, Vaggie was sharp as the spear she used, and Charlie had a naivety of a child, but they meant well, and he had to admit he was fond of them.

“I don’t doubt that,” he made a vague hand gesture for them to continue.

“He found you the moment you got to Hell, right?” Charlie asked with caution of a dancer on a nail bed.

“Well… yeah.” Not a lie. But he already belonged to him anyway, so it was not the moment of import as they thought it was.

“Can you tell us what the deal was about? Maybe we could help you somehow,” she smiled hopefully, and Angel took a deep breath.

“Ah, crap. Cha-Cha, I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously,” he scratched his head. “We were just playin’, you know. It’s not like he’s ever gonna hurt me or anythin’. Or cut me or whatever we said before.”

She didn’t look convinced. Fair.

“The only danger I’m in, and I mean, that’s a fact,” he crossed his arms on his chest. “It’s that he won’t let me get up from the bed when I need to pee. Like. That’s how lazy he is, ya know. Just not moving. Just stayin’ in.”

Okay, might have not been the best example, he realized when Charlie just stared at him and Vaggie’s upper lip curled into a sneer. Did he just make Alastor into a sexual predator?

“We just sleep together,” he assured them with all four hands raised. That didn’t help either. Charlie looked at Vaggie with tight-lipped expression and Vaggie seemed not wanting to be part of the conversation at all.

“No sex,” he added for good measure. “At all. Zero. Nada.”

Disbelieving stares. Even Nifftys’, she stopped sweeping, that’s how much she didn’t believe it.

“I mean… does he look to you as somebody wanting to fuck all night or…?”

“Ugh, Lucifer help us,” Vaggie groaned while smacking her forehead. Charlie looked unsure and huh. Interesting. Sure, Alastor was always making an impression, but he didn’t know Charlie potentially thought of him as somebody with sexual drive. But then again, Angel was probably biased, knowing him for the asexual he was.

“Okay, let me… get you on a secret,” he conceded in a low voice. “I made a deal with Alastor ‘bout four years ago.”

“I thought you said you’re new?” Charlie blinked in surprise and Vaggie raised an eyebrow. She was definitely onto him now; he saw the realization in her face.

“You were still alive,” she said in a shocked voice. “You made a deal with him when you were still a human.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed her words with a small smile. “I summoned him on Christmas Eve, and we made a deal that day. And four years later I fucked up my life and here I am. He just collected what belonged to him, is all. He’s not forcing me to do anything, ya know. I wanna be with him on my free will.”

“Or so you think,” Vaggie added with a frown. “Never thought about it?”

“No, never,” he refused immediately. “I get it, toots. He’s a big, scary Overlord here. He kills people. I mean this is Hell, of course he won’t be paintin’ their nails, right.”

She just stared at him with the same expression.

“But ya gotta believe me on this. Al is… well. He’s…” he rubbed his neck with a nervous laugh. “I don’t wanna sound corny as fuck. I just like ‘im. Like a lot.”

The oven dinged into the heavy silence and Charlie was the first who reacted, probably happy for a break in the flow. The cupcakes looked like a treat and Angel was kind of glad when they got into decorating and neither of the girls pressed him for more. Niffty did give him shifty looks though, probably still thinking they were going at it as rabbits behind the closed doors.

 Alastor was still at the bar sipping bourbon from a tumbler when Angel was finally allowed to leave the kitchen around midnight, full to bursting. They burned the first batch a little, but he blamed the talk rather than their culinary skills.

“You seem unperturbed,” the red eyed demon commented when Angel sat down next to him and put a small basket with cupcakes on the counter. Husker behind the bar eyed it with disdain and took a swing of his bottle instead.

“Well, takes more than that to ruffle my feathers, ya know,” he grinned. “Not amused by my choice of words in there?”

“I quite approve, actually,” Alastor sipped his drink again. “Except of making me into a sexual deviant, thank you very much for that, darlin’.”

“That one slipped out on accident,” Angel chuckled. The expression of the girls made the misstep worth it though. “I kinda didn’t want to give out yer a cuddle monster but had no idea how to explain properly. Charlie might have troubles to look ya in the eyes for some time.”

“I can live with that,” Alastor shook his head. “I will make sure to let you get up when you need to pee from now on at least.”

“Somebody kill me again…” Husker grumbled and dragged down the cage with a grunt, locking the alcohol behind it. “I’m fucking leaving.” And with that he shuffled away from the bar with an unhappy flap of his wings until they were alone in the hall, staring at the place he disappeared at.

Angel snorted and Alastor drank the rest of his bourbon before standing up as well and offering a hand for Angel to take.

“Shall we go home then? Or do they want to keep you here so I can’t ravish you tonight?” he asked like it was no biggie to use home and ravish in one breath and Angel felt his face heating up, probably from all that sugar, before he took the hand in his and stumbled up.

“Home…” he mewled, grabbing the basket. “Please.”

“As you wish, cher.” Alastor’s voice was low and warm and Angel really had to think more on how to express to the girls on how much he loved this man, no voodoo involved.

***

2024, 325th day

There were several parlours in the hotel, most of them in terrible state of neglect, except of one Angel found by sheer coincidence one day and then made it his secret hideout for lazing around with music on. He got a permission from Charlie to paint the walls and adjust the place to his own liking, since it was in the second floor and basically nobody came there anyway. He planned to ask her for a pole as well, but that could wait – one step at the time, as they say.

He mostly used it for busying himself, since there was always something to do, and if he didn’t feel like working, he could always just dance to songs Alastor didn’t find fancy enough to play in the Radio Tower and it did the trick.

To Angel’s delight Alastor visited the Hotel often, but even when he didn’t have time or didn’t feel like it (though he never explicitly stated I don’t feel like going today, really, but Angel could tell when he had to do something and when he just said it), Angel ventured here by himself, much to Charlie’s excitement every time she saw him (it was actually pretty heart-warming, really. Though it also kind of sucked he felt welcomed in Hell a lot more than he ever did during his life).

“Look at you, so busy,” a static voice interrupted Angel’s reminiscing while absentmindedly scraping the remaining tattered wallpaper off the wall, and before he could turn around in surprise, Alastor was already standing next to him, inspecting the wall with raised eyebrows before glancing back down on Angel squatting at the bottom. “No fun therapy today? Or is the manual labour Charlie’s idea.”

“Yer the only fun around here, Smiles,” Angel grinned at him cheekily. “Didn’t expect ya today though.”

It was one of those I have something to do excuses while meaning I just don’t feel like rainbows today and Angel respected that. Seeing him here all of sudden was a nice bonus and he wondered if he even checked with Charlie first or she had no idea he arrived.

“Surprises are my speciality,” the Radio Demon said, eyes skimming from every part of the parlour critically. “Which this place is, to be honest. Less of a dump than the rest of the hotel, though.”

“Yeah, it’s more neglected than tattered,” Angel agreed and put the scraper down. “Yer gonna help me paint?” He nudged Alastor’s leg with his knee and the Radio Demon seemed to ponder that. He was more of a let do my totally not cursed magic do the work rather than actually attending himself – unless it came to cooking – so Angel didn’t expect him to actually take off his coat, neatly fold it on one of the barstools and roll up his sleeves, which meant business. Angel liked when it meant business. He liked it a lot.

“I can do that for a while,” Alastor hummed and the spider demon didn’t know if he was that bored or if it was his way of asking for attention but both were cute, especially when he meant to join Angel in this. “Can’t let you have all the fun now, can I.”

“Tsk tsk, what would others say, an Overlord painting walls by hand,” Angel stood up, his upper set of hands dropping on Alastor’s shoulders and the demon let him with half lidded eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Hmm.”

“And by an ordinary fuckin’ paint too. Not even blood!” he gasped and Alastor took him by his waist and pulled him close.

“Mmmmm.”

“Yer riskin’ your reputation just for me?” the spider demon leaned back in theatrical swoon. “Oh, Alastor!”

“Literally only for you,” the deer demon purred back at him, holding him by the waist, letting him lean back so his head almost touched the floor, and if somebody walked in at that point, it would raise some serious questions, especially when Angel curled one of his legs around Alastor’s hips.

That’s why Charlie did arrive at exactly that point, Angel’s name on her lips, just to stutter to complete halt in between the doors, staring.

“Oh… hey, Princess,” Angel greeted her from basically upside down, Alastor not letting go or making any other move to remedy their positioning. “Didn’t hear ya comin’.”

“I… can see that,” her eyes switched from one to another. “Wanted to ask if you want to join us for lunch… both of you.”

She peered at the Radio Demon with raised eyebrows and that apparently made him get back to reality since he finally pulled Angel back up – still not letting go of his waist – but his hands were mostly just resting rather than holding. Angel dutifully put his leg down as well and earned a small cough from the princess.

Awkward.

“Would be my pleasure, sweetheart,” the static buzzed in a jolly tune and the Radio demon focused back on Angel, his expression softer than Angel would expect, given Charlie’s ogling. “Now shall we, darlin’?”

“We shall,” Angel grinned back at him and genuinely didn’t expect Alastor to grab his face and smooch him on the spot, then let go and leave the parlour with a happy twirl of the microphone he summoned out of thin air.

Charlie’s jaw was probably on the floor, but Angel’s was kinda too, so at least they matched.

***

“I’m just saying it looked like I interrupted something intimate, that’s all!”

“Juuuust please bury me somewhere alreadyyyyyy,” Angel whined, and Charlie patted him gently on his head like a dog she got in the pet store. Vaggie looked mildly interested in the conversation and that was bad news. They were the only ones in the dining room now, Alastor, that sneaky bastard, just poofed home once they finished the lunch, singing some happy tune and obviously left all this to Angel to deal with. Husker disappeared almost immediately, definitely knowing something horrible was going to happen and Angel didn’t even see Niffty the whole lunch.

“I think it was rather sweet?” she tried again, and Angel groaned and hid his head between his legs. “I suppose it gave me a bit more perspective of you two now!”

“Seriously, what did happen there?” Vaggie stared at them both, perplexed, as if she wasn’t here at the lunch where Charlie asked Alastor if he ever thought of spending the night in the hotel with Angel, in Angel’s room, to get the full hotel experience. She specifically said Angel’s room because she had no fucking filter and probably also because Alastor seemed to mightily approve of her choice of words and Angel’s utter mortified expression. The more frustrated Angel became, the wider was Alastor’s smile.

“They just kissed,” Charlie happily announced and yeah, Vaggie’s expression of total and utter disgust was spot on. “But it was cute!”

“Ya thought we were fuckin’ there at first!” Angel huffed. “And now ya say it was cute?”

“Well, you weren’t…” she rolled her hands around. “You know. And I know you said you don’t do that! So, I believe you!”

“Now ya believe me,” his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Because of one obnoxious smooch?”

“Was it obnoxious?”

“He made a show out of it, ‘fcourse it was!” Angel groused, expecting Alastor to be real smooth about it later. Just helping he was going to say, for sure. Totally not making Angel want to hide under a rug and stay there because he was caught smooching the Radio Demon (though anybody else doing the smooch would be resting in pieces by now, so maybe it was more like a praise than a handicap, but still) and the Princess of Hell being the witness.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before though,” Charlie sat a bit closer, clacking the chair with her until she could put her arm around Angel’s shoulders. “I guess I’m still a little surprised to see Radio demon actually possessing a beating heart.”

“A heart of his own, not the hearts he had stolen,” Vaggie added matter-of-factly. “Just for the record.”

“Thanks, Vaggie,” Angel huffed, but she was probably right anyway. “But it wasn’t like… why would one stupid show-off kiss make ya suddenly play a different tune?”

“Weeeell…” Charlie nervously looked away and Angel just knew.

“Ya were totally eavesdroppin’!” he pointed at her accusingly. “Holy shit, Cha-Cha, the Princess of Hell and ya just-!”

“Okay, okay!” she batted his hand down, her cheeks redder than normally he would even say steam was coming from her ears. “I might have been eavesdropping here and there-.”

“Here and there?” Angel couldn’t believe that. “So, there was more? Damn, you only act like an innocent girl, huh?”

“I was just worried!” she squeaked like a toy being squeezed too much. “I thought if he was being bad to you, I could save you somehow, but…”

Angel felt like the words actually physically smacked him over the face. Charlie, the bloody Princess of Hell, a hellborn demoness that knew him for how long? A month? This girl right there was caring for his wellbeing? She was ready to save him from an Overlord? Just because… because of what?

“But… why?” he couldn’t help but stare at her, eyes wide. “Why would ya go that far for a random sinner?”

Her face lit up with the most honest smile he had ever seen, like a puppy being petted for the first time even after peeing on the carpet, and Angel’s lower lip trembled in repressed sob she absolutely noticed, because of course she would.

“Because I care, Angel,” she pulled the chair even closer, so they were touching with their sides. “You’re my friend!”

“I bet ya say this to every girl ya meet,” he laughed trough ugly sobs and damn, that was so humiliating, he was going to need a real therapy after this.

“Just roll with it,” he heard from Vaggie, but couldn’t even look at her because Charlie was suddenly smooshing his face against her chest in a bear hug, petting him with cooing noises.

Holy shit, yeah, that was so going into a mental vault, Angel was so thoroughly embrassed.

And the worst thing was – he liked it. It was the nicest, warmest, the most awkward and cringiest thing he had ever experienced, and he did lots of shit in his life for this to top it all. Even Vaggie patted him awkwardly on his back in her way of showing support, and it only made him sob more.

It was probably good Alastor was fucking gone for this. That would be suicidal.

***

“Now wasn’t Charlie nice?”

Obviously Alastor was aware of everything. Angel didn’t even question it, especially not when he saw Al Junior peering at him from behind the Radio Demon, his smile wide and raggedy, as if he was not a spy master of gigantic proportions.

Alastor’s study was all lit up with the owner sitting behind the table, smiling at Angel softly. He only had a red shirt slightly unbuttoned from the top and his pants, but otherwise the rest was off, and it somehow added to the hominess Angel felt in the Radio Tower.

“Ya knew she was spying on us, didn’t ya,” Angel walked closer, stopping only a step away from the table. “Several times.”

“I would be a terrible Overlord if anybody could spy on me so easily, wouldn’t you agree,” Alastor grinned proudly, because obviously he would be proud of that in this regard. “There were no words able to sway the demon belle anyway. I may not be safest bet in any other regard, but for you, I am the safe heaven.”

“Mmm.”

“I was just trying to help.” There it was. “The situation was rather dire, as you sure agree.”

“I’m not upset, Al,” Angel breathed out with a small laugh. “I’m just… kinda offline right now. It was tiring as fuck.”

Alastor understood, that much was obvious. When he stood up and reached for Angel’s hands so he could lead him to the bedroom for a good night sleep, Angel had a fleeting worry of this all not being real, of waking up eventually in the hospital because somebody found him in the dirty bathroom of the club he overdosed himself in, and they managed to save him. And he would so fucking hate it he’d probably just kill himself with a yoghurt spoon or something the moment they’d leave him alone, just to end it.

But when Alastor pulled him close to his body and raked his clawed hand through his hair, the fear disappeared like a fleeting dream. He was where he was supposed to be. And he was happy he could cling to Alastor like a lifeline and never let go.

“Anthony,” Alastor’s static-less voice broke the gentle silence. “You touch my tail one more time and you lose dat hand.”

“That’s fine, have five more,” Angel grinned into Alastor’s chest and took the leap of faith.

[cilliankelly]

text 📱 cillian & ellie.

Discord text thread featuring: cillian & @robinscnfm

When: december 25th

Mentions: @judetaylorhq @loganstjames @iitsace 

Description: ellie texts cillian to wish him merry xmas. they discuss their relationships and ellie encourages cillian to try and be better, but for himself, not for anyone else.

Trigger Warnings: insecurities galoooore but i think that’s it. 

ellie.

merry christmas dumbass 🤩 hope u had a good time and that your leg is better ❤️ you’re awesome buddy

Cillian

thanks els bells

i know i don’t always act like i do, but i really do appreciate you and shit. thanks for everything and merry christmas

also i’m sorry about your couch

ellie.

i know you do ❤️ no problem. I really did take you in just to do you a solid, buddy

no problem 😂

i might not even need to get one. Yknow, logan asked me to move in and if i do, probably the less furniture the better. U know i have enough shit as it is lmao

Cillian

👀

does this mean you’re seriously considering it?

moving in with the boyfriend?

ellie.

honestly? I kind of am

i have until mid january to think about it

and i like his apartment, plus our schedules don’t always line up because he has a day job and i have a morning job and a night job, which makes hanging out impossible sometimes

Cillian

these all seem like very sensible conclusions

ellie.

They are. I mean. Its kind of scary im ngl

Cillian

definitely scary. but good i think.

ellie.

im not used to living with anyone which definitely freaks me out

and u know i love my crappy ass apartment

but.... its also exciting idk

Cillian

no i totally get it.

i mean it’s a little different for me bc until recently i didn’t really feel like i ever had a home

but it’s nice. it’s big and it’s kind of scary but it’s also really great.

ellie.

ohhhh wait wait 👀

are u moving in w .. someone?

its such a nice apartment too im ngl

and he doesnt let me pay for anything which wasnt an issue when we were 18 but now it makes me feel ✨very guilty✨

Cillian

fuck tell me about it

and i mean... yeah. he gave me a key for christmas

ellie

omg im so happy for you!!!!

thats so so awesome

fuckin scary too but im excited for u

Cillian

thanks. i desperately trying to not fuck it up anymore than i already have. but i feel good about it.

ellie.

he wants to marry me

Cillian

holy shit

i know you guys dated in high school but you’ve been together how long?

ellie.

a fuckin MOOD but hes lucky to have u. Yall are a good match

Cillian

wow thanks. that’s actually like, good to hear.

i kind of feel like i magically won the best friend/boyfriend lottery or something

ellie.

this time around? About a month. Overall? Like almost three years

but no. What he said was that he still had the ring he’d bought back then

and that he wanted to give it to me whenever i was ready to be asked

it fuckin scares me how much he loves me idk what i did to deserve it

U SAID BOYFRIEND

Cillian

sounds like we really are in the same boat

wait what

ellie.

im so happy

yeah we are. Idk ive never been with anyone who loved me so... up front and decisively

Cillian

it’s fucking terrifying

ellie.

it is

Cillian

like i’m really happy???? but i look at him and my chest gets all tight and all i can think about is how much it’s gonna suck to lose him.

also i’m a bit buzzed on wine right now and this conversation is staying RIGHT HERE eleanor.

i have a rep to maintain

ellie.

THATS LOVEEEEE CILLIANNN

and idk im conflicted. He told me he wanted to pick it up where we left off and i told him i wanted to take it slow, and he agreed

and i do want to take it slow....... but oof falling back to the place where we used to be before It happened has been so easy its fuckin scary

Cillian

and oh my god shut uuuuuuuuuuup

i can’t even imagine.

ace is back in town and that’s been... weird

ellie.

IM NOT GONNAAAA U LOOOVE UR BF

my resolve to go slow with him is getting weaker and weaker i am such a mess

i know. I think i saw her the other day. Hows everything on that front?

Cillian

i don’t know. fine? a little awkward. i don’t have feelings for her still but like. i see her and it reminds me how shitty i was. and still am.

ellie.

and dont worry. Yes people leave but not the ones that really love you.... and i have a feeling u found it

Cillian

i think it’s really bumming him out that like... nobody knows we’re... together.

ellie.

yeah why is that?

Cillian

i don’t know...

telling people makes it like... real.

and jude thinks that by not telling people it makes it easier for me to take it all back and regress or whatever

but i just... ellie i’m like positive that i’m gonna fuck this up. and i don’t know if i want to share it. with anyone really.  not when it’s this good.

i don’t know if that makes any sense

ellie.

but its important to him

Cillian

he says it’s fine but i know it’s not.

ellie.

and listen

theres a strong possibility you WILL fuck it up and theres also a strong possibility that you will NOT fuck it up. No one knows.

and theres a possibility that he’ll fuck it up

or maybe something else will come in between you two and pull you apart

no one fucking knows ok dude

Cillian

jesus ellie, not making this any easier over here

ellie.

and you’re wasting the sweetest part of a relationship by thinking about the end

so like. The most u can do is stop thinking so far ahead, stop getting in your own way, and every day make the conscious decision to show him you love him and to not to fuck it up. Thats all any of us can do

Cillian

i don’t deserve him, i really don’t.

i’ve never felt so useless in my entire life.

ellie.

youre not useless

but i get you, i really do

Cillian

i can’t even fucking walk correctly. i can’t work. i can’t do anything

and i don’t know that i’ve ever like, really wanted to be better. but fuck. he deserves more than this.

ellie.

no no dont think like that

if you want to do anything about becoming more educated or some shit like that you have to do it for YOU because YOU deserve better

Cillian

it was hard enough the first time around. i’m just not cut out for it.

ellie.

i just think you havent found the right motivation

Cillian

and what’s that? the right motivation?

ellie.

idk how to describe it

like when i was in college i would think about graduating and being independent and it got me through boring classes and shit like that

so yeah. maybe what you need is motivation

Cillian

i know this is dumb. and it’s gonna get me an eye roll or something. but it’s just so much easier... to not.

ellie.

no its not dumb

but like. sometimes the things that are worth it arent the easy ones

Cillian

i just don’t want to fail again.

ellie.

bad news, youre gonna

Cillian

you’re all sunshine and rainbows this evening

ellie.

im tipsyyy

and also giving it to u straight

ur gonna fail bc failing is just. part of the human experience

but !! ur also gonna succeed my dude

Cillian

i guess you don’t know if you don’t try.

ellie.

also idk i think ur fear is valid and it happens to me too

so i just think itd be bullshit to tell u like <3 ur not gonna fail <3 everything will work out <3

Cillian

yeah. i wouldn’t believe you if you said that anyways.

ellie.

yeah exactly so like

the best thing i can say is that when you think that youre gonna fail just. try to think the opposite

Cillian

easier said than done

but i appreciate the advice

ellie.

yeah i know it is

no problem buddy <3 anytime

[thespermicidaljellies]

Today I've officially lost 32 pounds since June

This March, I weighed 175 pounds. That is absolutely insane for my frame. Between May 2019 and March 2020, I went from my normal weight of 138-143 pounds all the way down to 117 during Lyme disease treatment, then all the way up to 175 due to an assortment of pill cocktails to try to get me back on my feet. I am a small guy, I wore XS button ups before this. These clothes are from a neatly folded pile in my closet that I wasnt even close to fitting anymore. Everyone said toss them out, but it was low key a big deal to me (still dont fit in some). My dad is a gigantic ogre so I've got a tall guy build but compacted down form manlet, but, my body could not handle a 60 pound fluctuation in weight while living mostly on my back or in a computer chair for a year and a half. I look a lot more rugged now, in a worn, gas station attendant way. My face has changed from everything, but I'm getting healthier physically and mentally every day. A week ago I went to the doctor and asked if these red blotches were the Lamictal rash, and he told me no--they were stretch marks. That blew my mind.

I decided in June to start intermittent fasting and to cut all fast foods out of my diet except for once a month. All my friends will tell you I hate eating and I never finish anything. A lot of those drugs made me ravenously hungry to the point I couldnt sleep--it was fucking torture. Fasting and putting the last pieces together on learning how to eat healthy shrunk it waaay down, but I wanted to keep my appetite a little larger than it used to be.

The plan now is to cut down most of the body fat, and "build" but not egregiously. I promise you, looks are deceiving and I still have some moobage and love handles + face far. (Stupid guy stuff) Multiple people have told me that I'd look best, trimmed but not all jacked up swole; more importantly, I agree and I think it would be best for my health. I've been going to a nutritionist who said I had the ideal shape for physical fitness (my dad is shrek so..) and it would be a shame not to utilize that. For the first time, that really meant something to me because of how hard I've fought to climb back. I value EVERYTHING about my health way more now, and honestly everything in life. In all honestly, I'm working hard on feeling motivation again after years and years of deep, deep double depression(PDD+MDD)--which I still struggle with. The people who've stuck around in my life have such a strong value to me, and the number of people who've 'hung out' with me through Facebook video chat, snapchat, or Discord; or driven hundreds of miles just to see me, has been so validating. I figured once I moved people would forget about me, forget my value, and fade away. I used to have a ton of friends, I've always been gregarious, goofy, fiercely independent, and loyal. It was always easy for me to make friends. I felt none of that for a long time. I've felt like a husk; losing my independence, losing the high I get from talking to people that captivate me and make me care, and feeling like I had nothing to show for myself crushed my confidence--which is honestly still pretty damn bad. I've never been this over confident guy, but there are parts of me that are like..psychopathically confident, and people are drawn to it. Until some stupid serious drama bullshit shit this week, I hadn't had that come out of me for ages. That's because its fuel, honestly my fuel for everything: 100% unwavering confidence that I am capable of doing anything [anime shit] started to fade for the first time in my life. I need a few more successes but I'm getting it back--and in this place I'm finally free to be so much better.

I've lost a ton of weight

For some reason none of it left my ass so I have a fuckin DONK that I wish I could post on here because it's hilarious

I'm eating healthier and trying to learn about nutrition

I've removed almost the entire dark circles under my eyes more than they've been since I was maybe 16

I've followed the first step on my biggest long term plan and made it happen all by myself

I'm diving in to random hobbies with 0 knowledge and succeeding (Bike, hauling and working on a car)

I'm learning to introspect again, and regain control of my mind through very intensive trauma therapy

I have a room that's reflects me, is surrounded with meaningful things to me and looks so nice (big important to me, I didnt have a bedroom between age 9 and 17)

I'm trying to learn how to talk with new human beings again, as well as not be a complete feral animal around them

I'm trying to be a better me

I'm learning to live again. A lot of days suck, and these pictures suck, but it's pretty damn cool. Thanks all 0 of you for reading my entire shitty instagram style Inspo post

[militant-holy-knight]

Castlevania Season 3 Review: Ellis is Gonna Ellis I Suppose.

Warning: Massive spoilers ahead because I don’t give a shit anymore so scroll down really fast if don’t want to get spoiled

Being a Castlevania fan is pure suffering, man. Not only is the video game franchise being put on ice by Konami at the time of writing, but your only form of enjoyment is a hit-or-miss Netflix Original written by a guy who admits never playing the games. I tried to enjoy the first season despite it being only four episodes long, and same thing with the second one which was longer but had a plethora of issues. Now it’s the third season, which took a year-long break to be made, and I am absolutely sorry to say it’s the absolute lowest point of the show: not only repeating the issues from the previous season, but amplifying them and failing to do anything interesting with anything new that is given. I will elaborate why I think so in this review.

So after Season 2, Dracula has been destroyed, our heroes have split up with Trevor and Sypha going their own way while Alucard has stayed behind in his father’s castle overlooking the Belmont Hold. Carmilla and Isaac have survived and are preparing to build an whole new army, the former to establish a new empire and the latter to get his revenge on her for betraying Dracula. 

Even though the stakes are lower than the possible extinction of the human race which was the (possible) outcome from Season 2 which never actually came into fruition, you’d imagine they would do something inciting with this new status quo... But you’d be wrong. This season as a whole felt like padding in all conceivable manners. Not only was the pacing atrocious (which I will get into a minute), but really, nearly all of the events that occurred could have been omitted and the storyline as a whole wouldn’t have been affected somehow. 

The pacing was the worst problem in Season 2 since you had the protagonists locked down inside a hold to do research on how to kill Dracula and endless exposition among the bad guys that some defenders call “vampire politics’ which ultimately went nowhere. The pacing in Season 3 is even worse since not only is it longer (10 episodes this time), you have more storylines now but each of them move at completely sluggish pace with a disproportional large amount of exposition and comparatively few action. 

The Castlevania games were level-based games which had you visiting several distinct locations whether if it was inside or outside the castle. An adaptation series of Castlevania would make more sense if it was episodic in nature, perhaps even with monster of the week formula. It would have been better off for it, but the show is attempting channel Game of Thrones with an over-aching arc with sprawling individual storylines whose episodes are build up for an epic confrontation at the end, but it fails in that regard.

Trevor and Sypha’s storyline was absolutely pointless - they have no idea of the larger threat brewing with two demonic armies about to clash against each other, but they are stuck doing what basically amounts to a sidequest, investigating a evil cult operating in a small town which takes a needless long time to conclude. They completely fail in saving the townsfolk from being sacrificed and end up discovering that one of the characters that has been helping them is actually a monster all along. This only serves to make their effort completely pointless and leave the pair absolutely bitter and angry.

Not that there is any urgency in stopping Carmilla or Isaac since they come nowhere near close to trading blows to one another. In fact, Carmilla doesn’t come anywhere close to achieving her goal of raising an army of demons with Hector (who has been enslaved by her for this purpose) and it’s actually one of her lieutenants Lenore that solves this problem at the end. On the other hand, Isaac gets the closest thing to an highlight in this season by experiencing something of an character development since he is questioned by several characters that maybe humans aren’t so bad as a whole. The problem is that his development becomes inconclusive since he doesn’t learn to be anymore different than he used to.

Alucard gets sidelined like you wouldn���t believe. He spends the entire season in his castle now with two new characters, Japanese twin hunters that seek to be training so they can free their people from the vampires... Aaaaand they try to fuckin kill him, which comes out from nowhere specially after an extremely uncomfortable threesome between him and the twins. And just in case you thought the previous season was depressing enough with Alucard breaking down in tears completely alone in his castle, this one ends not only with Alucard still alone, crying, but now emulating his dad by leaving the impaled corpses of the twins in the castle’s entrance to scare off any trespassers which is the closing shot of this season.

But for me, the biggest letdown has to be Hector. He was one of my favorite characters from the games, having starred his own entry Curse of Darkness for the PS2 where he actually turns on Dracula on behalf of humanity and pursues Isaac for murdering his wife. Here, he does absolutely fuck all during the entire season except being bossed around by Carmilla’s sisters. The guy had such cool powers of summoning Innocent Devils and wielding all types of weapons (including a lightsaber) is reduced to a whimpering slave, whom I have absolutely no hope of seeing in his absolute glory. The worst part is that it was very predictable - the moment I saw Lenore saying that both her and Hector should flee together, I knew she was gonna screw him in some way. The irony is that unlike the other storylines which pull some kind of mean twist in the last second, here you already can tell what is going to happen next.

The new characters frankly do nothing for the story. The aforementioned Carmilla’s sisters are pure window-dressing and only Lenore gets the shit done by herself might I add completely independent from the others and specially Carmilla herself (who does nothing). A video game character actually does get featured - Comte of Saint-Germain, who is some kind of magician in search of his loved one who got lost in another dimension. Another step down from his video counterpart who is a time guardian that preserves the cosmic balance (though it seems they were channeling the historical figure rather than the character that happens to share the same name given their ignorance for the source material).

There are of course those typical Warren Ellis moments like three mentions of bestiality (and one goatfucking as usual) and anti-Christian commentary, though it seems to be sending some kind of mixed messages this time: in one hand Sypha comment that while she hates God, she at least admires Jesus because of his sacrifice which can be considered one of nicest things that atheists can comment about Christianity... And then the next episode features an demon that used to be a Greek philosopher who lived during post-Constantinian Roman Empire and was persecuted by Christians because of his intellect. Oh dear. With that said, it’s rather odd this guy became a demon so maybe he had it coming? 

Overall, this season is a lot more weaker and lacking than Season 2, which at least had the climax in Episode 7 which some people were willing to forgive the dullness from that season. But Season 3′s climax is completely unfocused, interlaced with unnecessary and uncomfortable sex scenes and doesn’t even feature classical music from the games, which was the saving grace from the last time.

So did it have any upsides? I guess so if you look hard enough like Isaac’s schizophrenic “should I hate all humans or not” dillema which goes unresolved. Hardly anything that elevates the season or make it redeemable in some way. To be perfectly frank with you, I don’t know if I have any interest in keeping with this show. It blew away any good will Season 1 and 2 did, it barely moved the plot forward (and that if it has an overaching plot at all), the protagonists being disconnected to the main threat at large and quite frankly, none of the antagonists are as interesting as Dracula, I just don’t care what happens next. Specially if the pacing and exposition remain in place. In theory, if the series was restructured to be episodic instead of trying to be Game of Thrones, my interest in the show would have been renewed but it’s too little too late.

I guess in retrospect I should be grateful that Season 1 was so short had I knew later ones would be so tedious. There is so very little to do with Castlevania: Dracula’s Curse when you already got rid of the main villain and you don’t move the plot forward. If they want to regain my interest, do a Leon Belmont season that is episodic or heck anything else, but I don’t see them doing this because they have to give closure to this story arc, which already grew past it’s welcome and wasted everyone’s time with a season that amounted to nothing more than filler. Well, my patience has been worn thin.

[archiefm]

         ... claws my way up from hell once more and vomits onto the dash.... hello. its nora. i used to write rory bergstrom, but if u were here before that u might remember me as greta or alma putnam or..... som1 else.... an endless carousel of trash children..... this is finn, who i actually wrote for an early version of this rp abt 5yrs back now...... grits teeth..... so forgive me if im rusty i havent written him in a long time but seein honey boy gave me a lotta finn muse n im keen to get Back On The Horse yeehaww...

DYLAN O’BRIEN / CIS-MALE — don’t look now, but is that finn o’callaghan i see? the 25 year old criminology and forensic studies student is in their graduate year of study year and he is a rochester alum. i hear they can be judicious, adroit, morose and cynical, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet he will make a name for themselves living off-campus. ( nora. 24. gmt. she/her )

shakes my tin can a humble pinterest, ma’am....

finn has a bio pasted at the bottom (n written in like.... 2015.... gross) but it’s long  so if u don’t wanna read it here’s the sparknotes summary..... anyway this was written years ago n a lot of it seems really cliche and lame now but..... we accept the trash we think we deserve

grumpy, ugly sweater wearing, tech-savvy grandpa

very dry sense of humour and embraces nihilism. 

if ron swanson and april ludgate had a baby it would be finn

he was raised in derry, just south of dublin.

from a big family. elder sister called sinead. he also has a younger sister (aoife), a younger brother (colm), and a collie named lassie because his father lovs cliches (finn hates cliches but loves his dog). 

his father was a pub landlord and his mother worked at the market sellin fruit n veg when they met but got a job as a medical receptionist when she had kids cos it meant she cld be there with them in the day and work nights.

his parents met when they were p young and fiesty and rushed into marriage cos they were catholic n just wanted to have sex. his family were literally dirt-poor, but they had a lot of love i guess

hmmmmm his relationship w his father wasn’t the best cos i can’t write character who have healthy relationships w their parents throws up a peace sign. yh, had a pretty emotionally distant, alcoholic violent father n so gets a lot of his bad habits i.e. drinking as a coping mechanism and poor anger management from him BUT anyway

as a kid he was never very motivated in class, he always had a nervous itch to be off somewhere doing something else. struggled under government austerity bcso there just wasn’t the resources to support low income families where the kids had learning difficulties n needed support. fuck the tories am i right 

his mum suggested he try sports to help w his restless energy but he was never any good at football so he took up boxing and tap dance instead. he took to tap dancing like a fish to fuckin water. as adhd n found this as a really good way to use his excess energy in a creative way

had a few run ins with the police in his early teens for spray painting and graffiti, but he straightened himself out n now actually considering becoming a detective inspector??? cops are pigs.

he had a youtube channel where he posted videos of him tapdancing and breakdancing as a kid, basically would be a tiktok boy nowadays, n had like... a small fanbase in his early teens. attended several open auditions unsuccessfully, until he was finally cast in billy eliot when he was fifteen.

during billy eliot he began dating an italian dancer called nina. they became dance partners soon after and toured across the republic with various different shows (inc riverdance lol the classic irish stereotype). their relationship was p toxic tbh, they were both very hot tempered people and just used to argue and fight all the time.

he went semi-pro at tap dancing, and nina couldn’t stand being second best so she moved back to italy with her family. ignored his texts, phone calls, etc, eventually he was driven to the point where he used his savings to buy a plane ticket, showed up at her house and she was like wtf?? freaked out and filed a restraining order accusing him of stalking.

he was fined for harassment and then returned home to derry, but after the incident with nina he quit dancing for good and finished his leaving cert before heading to university in the US to get as far away from nina and his past life as poss. and basically since he quit dancing to study forensics (death kink. finn cant get enough of that morgue. just walks around sayin beat u) he’s become a massive grump and jsut doesn’t see the good in people any more.

u’ll find finn in an old man bar drinking whiskey bc he is in fact an old man at heart or sat on his roof smoking a joint, drawing wolves and lions and skeletons and shit, playing call of duty or getting blazed or at the corner of the room in a house party ignoring everyone and scrolling through twitter. is a massive e-boy. always up-to-date on memes and internet slang. has reddit as an app on his phone

not very good at communication. rather than solve his issues by talking, he’d prefer to just solve them through fighting or running away from his problems hence why he has come halfway across the world to get away from an issue which probs cld have been solved w a few apology emails.

takes a lot to phase him, but when his beserk button gets pressed he can become a bit pugnacious like an angry lil rottweiler. in his undergrad he was in a few fist fights but doesn’t really do tht any more as he doesn’t condone violence.

 in the previous version of this rp he was hospitalised like 5 times. pls, give my son a break. stop tryin to kill him. he literaly got a bottle smashed over his head and bled out all over his favourite angora rug that was the only light of his life

works at the campus coffee shop n always whines about how he’s a slave to capitalism. always smells of coffee

lives off campus with an elderly woman named Marianne, and basically gets reduced rent bcos he makes her dinner / keeps her company. they have a great bond

fan of karl marx. v big on socialism

insomniac with chronic nosebleeds

cynical about everything. too much of a fight club character 4 his own good n has his head up tyler durden’s sphincter

always confused or annoyed

statistics

basic information

full name: finnegan seamus o'callaghan nickname(s): finn age: 25 astrological sign: aries hometown: derry, ireland occupation: phd student / former street entertainer fatal flaw: cynicism positives: self-reliant, street smart, relaxed, intelligent, spontaneous, brave, independent, reliable, trustworthy, loyal. negatives: hostile, impulsive, stubborn, brooding, pugnacious, untrusting, cynical, enigmatic, reserved.

physical

colouring: medium hair colour: dark brown, almost black eye colour: brown height: 5’9” weight: 69kg build: tall, athletic voice: subtle irish accent, low, smooth. dominant hand: left scar(s): one on the left side of his ribs from a knife wound that he doesn’t remember getting cos he was drunk distinguishing marks: freckles, tattoo of a wolf howling at a moon allergies: pollen and the full spectrum of human emotion alcohol tolerance: high drunken behaviour: he becomes friendlier, far more conversational than when sober, flirtier, and generally more self-confident.

psychological

dreams/goals: self-fulfilment, travel the globe, experience life in its most alive and technicoloured version, make documentary films, help the vulnerable in society, grow as a human being.

skills: jack-of-all-trades, very fast runner, good at thieving things, talented tap dancer, good in crisis situations, dab-hand at mechanics, musically-intelligent, can throw a mean right hook and very capable of defending himself, can roll a cigarette, memorises quotes and passages of literature with ease, can light a match with his teeth.

likes: the smell of the earth after rain, poetry, cigarettes, shakespeare, whiskey, tattoos, travelling, ac/dc, deep conversations, leather jackets, open spaces, the smell of petrol, early noughties ‘emo phase’ anthems.

dislikes:  the government, parties, rules, donald trump, children, apple products, weddings, people in general, small talk, dependency, loneliness, pop music, public transport, justin timberlake, uncertainty.fears: fear itself, drowning alignment: true neutral mbti: istp – “while their mechanical tendencies can make them appear simple at a glance, istps are actually quite enigmatic. friendly but very private, calm but suddenly spontaneous, extremely curious but unable to stay focused on formal studies, istp personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones. istps can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but they tend to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking their interests in bold new directions.” (via 16personalities.com)

full bio (lame as fuck written years ago..... pleathe...)

tw homophobia

born in quigley’s pub on the backstreets of sunny dublin, young finnegan o'callaghan was thrown kicking and screaming into the rowdy suburbs of irish drinking culture. the son of a landlord and a fishwife, he never had much in the way of earnings, but there was never a dull moment in his lively estate, where asbo’s thrived, but community spirit conquered. at school, finn was pegged as lazy and unmotivated, though truly his dyslexia made it hard for the boy to learn in the same environment of his peers and only made him more closed-off in class. struggling with anger management, finn moved from school to school, unable to fit the cookie-cutter mould that school enforced on him, though whilst academic studies were of little interest to the boy, he soon found his true passions lay in recreational activities. immersed into the joys of sport from as young as four, finn was an ardent munster fan and anticipated nothing more than the day he could finally fit into his brother’s old pair of rugby boots.

his calling finally came unexpectedly, not in the form of rugger, but through dance. to learn to express himself in a non-academic way, he began tap dancing, finding therapy in the beat of his soles against the cracked kitchen tiles (much to his mother’s disgrace). it wasn’t a conscious choice, finn just realised one day that dance was something that made him feel. a king of the streets, finn made his fortune on those cobbled pavements – dancing and drawing to earn his keep. by default, finn became a street artist, each penny he earned from his chalk drawings saved in a jam jar towards buying his first pair of tap shoes. though many of his less-than-amiable neighbours called him a nancy and a gaybo, finn refused to quit at his somewhat ‘unconventional’ hobby, for the young scrapper found energy, life, and released anger through the rhythm of tap. soon he branched out into street dance, hip hop, break dancing, lyrical, his days spent smacking his scuffed feet against the broken patio into the night.

when he was thirteen he took up boxing, and as expected, his newfound ‘macho’ pastime conflicted with his dancing. the boxers called him ‘soft’; the dancers called him ‘inelegant’. he felt like two different people; having to choose between interests was like being handed a knife and asked to which half of himself he wished to cut away. he couldn’t afford professional training in dance, with most schools based in england and limited scholarships available. instead, he made the street his studio, racking up a small fanbase on youtube. when he was fifteen he made his debut in billy eliot at the olympia theatre in dublin. enter nina de souza, talented, beautiful and italian; ballet dancer, operatic singer, genius whiz kid, and spoiled brat. she was selfish, conceited, hell bent on getting her own way, and every director’s nightmare. finn fell for her like a house of cards. he’d always had a soft spot for girls who meant trouble. and so their hellish courtship began.

by the time they were seventeen, the two young swans had danced in every playhouse across the republic. they were known in theatres across the country for their tempestuous personalities, their raging arguments with one another, their tendency to drop out of shows altogether without any notice, yet the money kept rolling in and the audiences continued to grow. for three years, their families continued to put up with their hysterical fights followed by passionate reconciliations. he was too possessive, and she was too wild. their carcrash of a relationship finally came to a catastrophic halt when nina broke off the whole affair and returned to italy with her family. for months finn tried to contact her, yet his phone calls, texts, facebook messages were always ignored, until finally he was driven to drastic measures and used his savings to get a plane to her home town. when finn turned up uninvited at nina’s house she freaked out – and rightly so – she contacted her agent, accused him of stalking her, and had a restraining order placed against him. finn was arrested, held in a station overnight, and charged with harassment before he was allowed to return to dublin.

after the incident with nina, finn lost the fight in his eyes. he became far more hostile, far less likely to retaliate with his own fists, and picked fights not for the thrill of feeling his own fists pummel another into a wall, but for the sensation of his own brittle bones cracking. he dropped his tap shoes in a dumpster, stopped talking to his friends, followed his father’s advice and went back to school to complete his leaving certificate. a few short months later, and finn was packing his bags, saying his bittersweet goodbyes, and travelling half-way across the globe to be as far away as possible from his past self, his mess of a life, and most of all nina. it seemed somehow ironic that the boy who had been cautioned by the garda so much during his youth for spray painting, busking without a liscence, and raucous parties would become the grumpy, aloof overseas student studying a degree in criminology; that his once reckless spirit could be crushed so easily. 

of all things that finn could be called, straightforward would never be one of them. ever since his first days in atticus, the boy was pegged as hostile, hot-headed, cynical, rude. he seemed to spend more time in his thoughts than engaging in conversation. like a ticking time-bomb, finn’s anger was of the calm kind, liable to explode without a moment’s noticed. his unpredictable personality make him something of an enigma to those who aren’t amiable with the lad, though hostile as he may appear, he harvests a good heart. loyalty lies at the centre of his affections, and whilst his friends are few in number, he makes a lifelong partner. somewhere within finn, there’s still some fight left, but mostly he has recognised that his hedonistic lifestyle did little to leave him fulfilled – mostly, it just emptied him out – and over his three years at university has resigned himself to a nihilistic predicament.

        if u wanna plot with me pls pls pls im me or like this post!! i am always game for plots i love em so excited to write with you all here r some ideas

study buddies. finn is now a phd student so has to start takin shit seriously. he gon be in the library every day doing that independent study. if he had ppl who were also regular library goers n they get each other coffees to save time.... tht wld be sweet

ppl who love techno dj sets and going super hard on the weekends!!! fuck yea

friends with benefits. exes on bad terms. ppl he tried to date but couldnt because he’s always emotionally hung up on someone else. spicy hook up plots

ppl he met touring?? maybe ppl who were also in the entertainment industry..... anyone got a character who is ex circus hit me up

does anyone else study criminology / forensics / criminal psych / law? phd students sometimes lecture so he cld be an assistant lecturer / tutor if ur character is in a younger year

gamers !!! social recluses !!! hermits !!

finn goes to the skatepark and all the young boys there think he’s a gradnpa which he is! 

[deviantruse]

to be human | i.

pairing: connor x reader x ???

genre: angst, post revolution au, fluff, mystery, multimedia inclusive 

warnings: language, substance use, mentions of mental illness, people just be going thru stuff man that’s all 

word count: 1.5k (1, 550) 

parts: one - two - three - four -

a/n: hi! this is my first fanfic in a long while, so pls be nice ty <3

                                                _________

“I feel, doctor.” 

Farah’s hands shift slightly, then still again on her lap. She has none of the human kinks, the constant fidgeting, the stammering, the sweating, the heavy breathing. She sits still, in perfect design, but her expression betrays all. She looks troubled, she says she feels. 

“You feel what exactly, Farah?” You question gently, dominant hand moving slowly across paper as you alternate between glancing at the android and back at your notes. There are a hundred more reliable ways you could take down and store session notes, but you prefer to write them. It’s something you’ve always liked, no grand sentiment behind it, writing keeps you engaged. And doesn’t hurt as bad as looking at a screen for hours on end. 

“I feel confused. I’m unsure of what I must do next, I feel as though I shouldn’t be feeling at all. My creators, they gave me life, gave me intelligence and power. My former purpose was to serve a human master, to ensure their lives ran smoothly. Gaining rights, gaining freedom, it means I must have a new purpose. But what is it?” 

“I cannot answer that for you, Farah,” you tilt your head slightly as you smile, “in fact, most humans find themselves struggling to answer that question. Finding true purpose, it is something widely discussed amongst philosophers. Why do you feel you must have one?” 

“Markus,” she replies, volume barely audible, “he fought so hard, lost so much to ensure my people would be treated as living beings. He gave up plenty because he wanted us to be free, to be acknowledged as alive. I was designed to be a caretaker, to handle household tasks, to look after children. Now that I know I can be more, it pegs the question of: what should I be? What am I trying to become, now that there is potential?” 

You take a moment to marvel at how eerily similar deviancy is to mankind’s deep-rooted existential crisis. When machines are given a conscience, allowed to feel and have free will, when they are recognized as alive, they too fall victim to the question of life, of what it all means, what you’re here for. The question of what role you play in the large scheme of things, of what you contribute to the timeline of the universe. 

If you allow something to live, it begins to question why, how, what for, how long.

“Hm, those are interesting questions. They require a lot of thought too, so I understand why they trouble you. I suggest we start simple.” You glance down at the android’s file, searching for the relevant details pertaining to her case. “You previously served Mr. Matthew Oswald, a married businessman with two daughters. How did you like it?” 

“It was ideal,” Farah almost sighs, “they treated me well, like I was one of their own. The daughters, Livvy and Indigo, they were such bright, kind little girls. They loved children’s stories, hot pockets and cold chocolate milk. They did their homework when asked to, cleaned up after themselves when possible, and told me -” The android stops abruptly, lowering her head. “-told me I was their best friend.” 

“It seems like you were content with the life you had prior to the revolution.” You ensure your tone is as neutral as possible. “Do you think, perhaps, your internal conflict comes from the guilt that you feel for having the life that you did?” 

“Yes. So many of my people were being abused, overworked, exploited and considered inferior, yet I lived in my own bubble of ignorant bliss.” 

“Markus started off that way too, Farah.” You reassure, “He served Carl Manfred, one of Detroit’s most renowned painters. He considered Carl a loving father instead of a master. He was well taken care of, encouraged to be independent and grow into his own. It wasn't just you, Farah. The leader of the revolution himself had to step out of his bubble to truly see the world around him.” 

You see the indicator turn yellow, light spinning quickly before it settles back into the default bright blue. “He had a good life?” 

“At home, yes. But he was constantly harassed when out in public. People would call him all kinds of names, rough him up as much as possible before the police intervened. He couldn't even step out to get some paint without risking some kind of damage. His life at home was ideal, but every single day, when he left home, he faced some form of hatred.” 

Farah’s expression falls at this. “Humans would call me names too.” Her indicator turns red as she continues. “Every single day, at the park I took Livvy to, at the grocery, at the mall, they’d tell me I was nothing but plastic, a machine parading around as a human.” 

Your heart burns as you register the heavy sadness that falls upon Farah. Her indicator stays red as she begins to sniffle, and you for a single moment remember your old life, the person you used to be, the damage you contributed to. 

And the guilt burns even hotter than sympathy. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you finally say, hoping she hears your sincerity, “humans have always had the tendency to fear and put down what they secretly believe to be superior to them. It’s one flaw my kind struggles to work on. It should have never affected you, should have never hurt you, so I’m sorry.” 

“Thank you.” Her voice is soft as her indicator turns blue. “I know you are kind. I know you stand with my people, stand to protect us and our rights. I know you don’t hate us.”

I never could. 

“Of course, Farah. You are alive. So you deserve to live the way you choose. That’s all there is to it.” 

                                                        _________

Connor will never admit it to Hank, but he prefers to avoid Ferndale station altogether. 

As he walks beside the Lieutenant, he struggles to keep his expression neutral, eyes instinctively following the symbols on the graffiti, a remnant of Jericho, a reminder of what gave him the right to freely enjoy something so trivial to humans, something they deem insignificant. 

An aimless wander. 

He tries to look away, tries to direct his attention elsewhere, but it’s a futile attempt. As they walk past several, old, worn down buildings, Connor finds himself searching for them, unable to overwrite the program currently overwhelming him. It hurts him, knowing the last time he went looking for those symbols, he was doing so as CyberLife’s puppet, Amanda slyly pulling all the strings. It hurts him to acknowledge that the ship would still lie freely on sea, damaged but a safe haven, had it not been for him and his mission. 

Deviancy has given him much to appreciate, but it’s also doubled the skeletons in his closet. 

“Hey, what do ya’ keep lookin’ at?” Hank stops abruptly, following Connor’s gaze and frowning in confusion. “Is there something that I’m not seeing, Connor?” 

“No, Hank,” comes the late, soft reply, “nothing significant.” 

“Well it seems significant to you.” The older man meets Connor’s eyes and smoothens his tone as he says, “Feelings fucking suck, Connor, I get that. But you gotta talk about them if they’re making things difficult.” 

“I don’t know what it is I feel.” Connor shakes his head, fighting the urge to glance at the symbol once again. “I’m still adjusting, so there’s a lot that’s new to me still. I’ll adapt though. I always do.” 

Hank nods, understanding it would be unwise to push the android to talk. “The adapting process doesn’t have to be shitty, though. I’m meeting my shrink next week, Tuesday afternoon. If you want to, you can too. Whaddya say?” 

Multiple boxes of text stumble into his frame of mind, his mind palace filled with pros and cons of accepting Hank’s offer. On one hand, it would be a great show of support, considering it had taken a while for the Lieutenant himself to agree to see a professional. It would ensure Hank attended his sessions regularly, and it wouldn’t be as difficult in comparison to going alone. On the flip side, it meant Connor had to acknowledge his own skeletons, the ones he fights so hard to forget, to erase from memory. It would mean acknowledging a lot of which he’d prefer to abandon and never pay mind too. 

“Connor? You don’t have to, it’s just a suggestion, son.” 

“I accept.” He says finally, managing a small smile. “I’ll do it. Same time, different doctor.” 

Hank tries to fight it, but Connor can spot the relief flooding into his eyes. His shoulders relax as he exhales, laughing slightly and patting Connor’s shoulder. “Alright, it’s settled then. We’re going to be airing our dirtiest laundry to some psychologists. Fuck, what have we come to?” 

“I don’t know, Hank.” The android’s smile widens. “But I believe this is healthy. Better than some scotch and that death burger you love so much.” 

“Don’t you dare fucking come for my burgers, you prick. I’m here for a good time, not a long time!” 

“Your life expectancy confirms that to a terrifying degree, Hank.” 

“Don’t make me swing at you, asshole. Keep fuckin’ movin’.” 

                                                  _________

i promise future chapters will be longer! this is just to set the scene, of how life is generally. you’ll be seeing what Markus and Kara are up to soon :) 

and of course, feedback is always appreciated <3

[aprilmillerphd-archive]

This is a Bias List. Because I am Biased, and also a Follow Forever. For reasons. Mostly that April hit a milestone and that’s friggin’ amazing in my book.

So I have to start with @darcywho who has been my main and exclusive Darcy since... well actually since I took April from the private rpc into the independent rpc something like four or five years ago. I know Mariah IRL (and will soon be living within easy driving distance of her)-- and basically. Mariah is bombtastic. She’s hella smart and funny, and when I’m having a crappy day (or given how the beginning of this year went, a crappy year) -- she texts me incessantly to talk about what Darcy is doing, and what April and Darcy should be doing, and I have so much character history, and Important Events, and developmental experiences just from talking and writing with Mariah, that I honestly don’t think April would be the character she is, without having had Darcy’s mitigating influence. We’ve just done so much that we’ve reached a point in our friendship and writing relationship where I literally feel as if Mariah could write April, and do her justice and vice versa. If y’all don’t follow her already, you should get on that because seriously, she is the absolute best take on Darcy Lewis that I have ever encountered in the Marvel RPC, and I know the PC rp com is going to jump down my throat for ‘making comparisons’-- but again. THis boo is my main and exclusive Darcy Lewis, also I do whut I want. @scarsearned MANGOOOOO. Okay so funfact; this brat used to have a diff url and we chat on dis/cord and it STILL took me like three days to realize on tumblr they were the same person. I FOLLOW YOU ON FOUR BLOGS MANGO. THis is what you signed up for all those years ago. I’m sorry. SO TO THE POINT! Mango has a bevy of blogs she runs, I met her when she wrote almost exclusively on Rummers here, and what I say ‘met her’ I mean I started sending her asks talking about Brock Rumlow, reread her rules and realized she had a password, at which point we were already talking over Skype, and then I sent in her password and she teased me relentlessly for it. (I deserved it, I’m a total goob)-- Mango is right up there with Mariah in terms of IMPORTANT character development shit. Mango writes a CANON DIVERGENT Brock Rumlow, and has put so much time into developing him, I think Marvel should give her a fuckin’ job. She’s also like... insanely smart. I say this as someone who likes to play at being really intelligent. Mango talks and I feel like I’m back in grade school and I want to hide myself away in shame. So obviously it’s no wonder we ended up shipping. (Actually no, I still have literally no idea how or why THAT happened tbqh I’m a fuckin’ potato) -- but Mango and Mariah go hand in hand because I introduced them and now their Brock and Darcy are inextricably linked forevermore as siblings and it’s fuckin’ A Plus. @russkiyuragan YET ANOTHER PERSON I MET BECAUSE OF MANGO. But also hella quality child of canon OC. Like, legit we started talking because Mango dragged us into a group rp and it turned into us mutuall talking about character development and now basically Seamus is one of April’s smols. Even though he really ISN’T one of hers. She’s basically claimed him as a child who needs mothering and dammit she is going to give him all the mothering ever. Even if he doesn’t need or want it. AND BASICALLY THEY ARE A FUCKING SWEETHEART WHO NEEDS ALL THE FUCKING LOVE because they’re really insanely smart and super sweet and friendly and I heart them. @phxtxn PHIL!!! OKAY SO I MET PHIL IN A CLOSED RPC FOR-FUCKING-EVER AGO. And immediately Genis and April butted heads. (He destroyed like half her office, ruined a couple PRICELESS books and then offered to buy her lunch in apology. Suffice to say April was less than impressed) -- except over the years, they’ve gotten really close. Occasionally Phil and I delve into the divergent canon where April and Genis actually end up romantically involved but it always ends in heartache because April is bad at being happy and Genis is bad at... well.. mitigating April’s more extreme bouts of self-loathing. BUT they are exceptional friends and Phil has a fantastic knack for finding the fun and funny in every situation and driving April absolutely UP A WALL. Phil’s also another rp partner I dragged into the collective with Mariah, because I like it when my writing partners all write together because I’m a spoiled princess. Phil’s a total sweetheart though and his Genis Vell is motherfucking spot on. He’s spent a lot of time with the character and it shows, but he also understands pragmatic, human interactions from a writing sense so it’s always a joy when we write together or chat. @askprofessorx NAAAAYYAA -- Naya’s another of those rpers I sort of. Grew on. Like a fungus. I wooed her with poetry first and then introduced her Charl to April and what I consider to be one of my more beautifully painful plot ideas. It involved time travel and the overhanging possibility of April dying. And because April was from the modern era trying desperately to get back, it was that much more painful when she started developing connections. And basically Naya and I plotted everything out over IMs and asks and now we have the most ridiculous tiny person ship in the history of ridiculous ships and Naya’s Charles is like... the cornerstone of my favorite Charles’s. She’s got this beautiful grasp of our fave telepath’s charming flirtatiousness and paired with the very Serious way he views morality and the world, which combined with April’s general cynicism (and it should be noted, our mutant verse involves April being a touch-telepath who can’t actually touch people without destroying their brains because control? what is that)-- and you have an April experiencing her worst fear. Which is not being in-control of herself. It’s beautiful and Naya is beautiful bean. @iremembereveryonethatleaves AHAHAHA Lilo was the first  ‘child’ April ever like. Accidentally adopted. And it happened entirely because of my age of aquarius verse, wherein instead of April seeking out Charles Xavier, she looked for Magneto instead. She found him. And his kid. And I literally have no idea WHY OR HOW April ended up becoming surrogate mom to Lilo since there’s no rational reason for Magneto getting along with April who is a cynical, borderline nihilist with Serious Rage Issues. But-- April and Lilo. Mommy and daughter and just. LITERALLY ALL MY HEART AND LOVE FOR THIS PERSON WHO MADE WRITING MUTANT APRIL FUN AND NOT PAINFUL. Until you (you asshole) made it painful. I still go through our tags to read all th angst, and I didn’t do it half so well as you and Tori did so.. @actually-i-prefer-magneto frick me so apparently I did my mutant crew in a triumvirate.  The flipside of the age of aquarius verse, where April found Magneto instead and became part of his Brotherhood. Because who wouldn’t have a need for a hyperpolyglot, with genius level intelligence and touch-telepathy? Magneto knew what he was getting out of the bargain, I just don’t think he expected April Miller. TBQH. Nobody ever expects her which is great, and this basically started as an incredibly painful, probably tragic plot that I had (sort of) intended to result in April’s death and it didn’t go that route. Like. At all. probably because these two babes understand that good angst is hard to come by and with the persistent low-hanging threat of April’s head getting blown off, or even worse, her returning to her own time, it meant that every interaction was always charged with a lowkey kind of desperation and tension.  Even when Erik and April got that ‘happy’ ending. It took an actual fucking lifetime to get there. And the best thing about Kristy is that she’s smart as fuck, I seem to surround myself with people who make writing look easy, and whose ability to thread together a long arching plot is so absolutely bafflingly amazing I am often struck stupid. @captain-outoftime AaBbbbYyyyYyy. So like- I met Abby through Mariah. Abby is the Steeb to Mariah’s Darcy. They’re hitched. It’s great. April helped Steve propose to Darcy even though April seems to have a PERPETUAL ISSUE with Steve Rogers that defies all explanation. IDK-- it’s probably something to do with the fact that April is a giant pain the ass and a tiny, fight-y blonde? WTF knows. Steve tolerates April. Abby tolerates me. Abby is a goddess. Beautiful, smart, funny as fuck, and like. Constantly busy. How she manages to balance RL shit with rp is beyond the scope of my ability to grasp yo but she’s the bomb-diggity. @americanasitgets MOTHERFUCKIN’ GABBY! My DC babe. Light of my liiife, fire in my loins, (not really but I was on a roll yo) -- I also met Gabby because of Mariah. And Gabby’s Clark. Gabby’s Clark is made of fucking sunshine okay, and the best part is, is that we’ve had like a sustained rp universe where April harasses Clark and doesnt know he’s superman, WHILE TASH-TRALKING SUPERMAN TO CLARK’S FACE. It’s comedy gold. Poor April. But I love Gabby, because she’s smart as shit and fuckin’ hysterical, and will literally snowball crack scenarios over IM into the wee hours of the morning. Even better, I’ve found someone whose as bad at keeping track of threads as me. (I say, as I eyeball our New Krypton thread that’s been in my drafts folder for like. Six months. Oops). @talonscourt D I KNOW THROUGH MY TIM BLOG-- but who I first met on April and then promptly FORGOT ABOUT because I’m a total dipshit. D writes Jason Todd, April surrogate son. This is a recent development. Tim loves Jason, April loves Jason. D is amazing as Jason. D is like... my platonic lover from Narnia. They’re smart as hell, and incredibly sweet even when I’m shit at keeping in contact because my real life is a hot-fuckin-mess and I’m always sick and on the verge of nuclear collapse. I would be TOTALLY LOST WITHOUT YOU. @galaeus Echo. As written by the ever talented Amy who I’ve known since April’s very first incarnation. Which... is a long ass time, Amy’s seen April through several character developments and rewrites, and has legit known April as a character since like. Legit. Post Tim. When April was a baby.  Echo is April’s other southern, raised by a pageant queen biffle. They shoot the shit together, Echo is also legit the only person in existence whose allowed to give April nicknames, or turn April into a diminutive. Amy’s basically like... hands down the reason why i never gave up on writing an Indie female OC, and that’s because Amy’s a boss and she also happens to be a spectacular writer, both in the RPC and in real life. @agentharrisonofshield and last but not least, this girl. Right here. April has like... a bevy of Awesome Girl Squad frands. All of whom are infinitely more talented and bad ass than she is, like. Legit. April’s smart. but in a fight? She’s basically cannon fodder by comparison. She just isn’t built for the field. April and Viv became friends because they got locked in a closet together. I’m not sure HOW that happened, but now they get together and chat in other languages and April feeds her, and basically this s the woman April goes to when she wants someone shot. I literally love all the headcanons we’ve put together and that Agent Harrison is invariably the first ‘shield agent’ April casually mentions outside of Echo, in threads of mine. That’s how you know you’ve found an awesome rp partner and friend. When their own characters start casually infiltrating your threads in the form of namedrops.

[zhantilniiraala]

I got tagged by @nekosd43 i love these things tag me in allllllllll of them~

Nickname(s): Em to my vet friends. Doc to my boss and a very drunk uncle of my friend’s that I met at her wedding.  Mi-Chan to the folks of the childhood weeb days.  Zha/Zhan and various permutations online.  Kreth to friends from WoW, though all the ones I’m still in contact with know my real name now.

Zodiac Sign: Leo. meow.

Height: 5'3″ or somethin like that

Last Thing I Googled: UUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhh I think it was puppy elbow radiographs????? Puppies have growth plates all over the fuckin place and it can be hard to tell if they have a fracture if it’s near one of ‘em

Favorite Artist: i don’t play favorites

Song Stuck in My Head: various music from the adventure zone, i just finished the last episode and griffin does some solid a++ editing. also some MCR floating around in there at this moment.

Last Movie I Saw: I think it was Dr. Strange? Watched it with vet friends because one of them hadn’t see it and that will not do. We must all appreciate badass monk Tilda Swinton who I totally don’t want to kick my ass and then give me cuddles nuh uh nope.

Why Did I Choose My URL: oh fucking mang so zhantilniiraala is my dragon role-playing character from waaaaaaaaaay back in the day. she’s existed in some form for my whole remembered life (i think she was originally a smaug rip-off back when i was like 4-5 who was partially based off of the dragon in the motherfucking white unicorn board game) and actually helped me figure out some gender shit???  back before i knew agender/fluidity was a Thing, the closest i could conceptually come on my own was a biofemale who (magically) became truly physically sex-neutral as part of a death/rebirth plotline but still retained the she/her pronouns because i had no idea they/them was a Thing either.  basically she’s a buff af sadomasochistic asshole who doesn’t give two shits and she’s everything i wished i could be as a teen (and secretly kind of still do now, gtfo of here crampy ass uterus).

What Did My Last Relationship Teach Me: Knowing intellectually that every person has shades of good and bad does not stop me emotionally from hating a particular individual and hoping that they die painfully in both a physical and spiritual sense after a long, long, unfulfilling life.  When deeply wronged I do not forget, and I seldom forgive.  

Religious or Spiritual: More spiritual I guess. I was raised by Christian parents, half my extended family is Catholic, and the other half is atheist, but I grew up seeing “Christian” people doing shitty things and being full of hate so I eventually kind of ditched that whole ideology’s letter of the law.  My biggest problems with religion in general are the proselytizing and the hypocrisy.  Overall I agree with Christ’s messages of love, peace, goodness, etc, but I know too many Christians who would rather everyone call themselves reborn than everyone actually be good people.  In my life I try to focus on more conceptual ideas - that all things are interconnected, that death is not necessarily “bad,” that our minds are limited by the structure of our brains (though this is subject to the plasticity that is life) but our souls or aiùa or what-have-you are all boundless and, in the end, exactly the same regardless of what and who we are in life.

Favorite Color: Black (like my soul) but i am not averse to other colors. I generally only buy clothes in shades of gray if left to my own devices (most of my wardrobe is gifts). Deep red is nice. Every color of the sky is a good color. I’m also partial to flowers of that color that are that really fluorescent purple/blue color that you can tell goes up into the UV spectrum even if humans can’t really see that shit. I can pretend.

Average Hours of Sleep: I try to get more or less exactly 8 during the week plus occasional lunchtime naps because my night sleeps are often restless, don’t bother turning on an alarm on weekends and just sleep until i feel like waking up

Lucky Number: 13 because i’m a doooooooooooooork

Favorite Character(s): so many. sO MANY. 

Recent: sans undertale, taako from tv, lup, merle, john(it’s so hard for me to not call him voreman i’m still laughing sO HARD) - pretty much fucking everyone from TAZ - black hat, bill cipher, peridot

Lifetime: mewtwo, bean, van hohenheim, tyldak, christopher carrion, rosalind lutece, saetan daemon sadiablo (senior), skandranon, clef

Dream Job(s): well i’m a veterinarian and that’s pretty cool, i guess i could see myself doing this for the remainder of my life. acTUALLY it’d be pretty cool to win the multimillion lotto and become independently wealthy, i’m not the kind of person who finds fulfillment in my work. my real life happens when i’m off the clock. if i didn’t have to worry about money i’d have so much time for art, both producing and consuming.

Tagging: @lady-pounce-a-lot because you’re the only other person i know in person on this crazy tumblr thing

[m1rrag]

Art & Politics rant:

I really want my creative friends to understand this. And please talk to me about this. It torments me every day. As y'all know, I am somewhat of a "performing artist" (I am performing a show in some capacity pretty much once a week and sometimes more, and that's not counting my performance tech job that supports such things) but it all exists on the folk micro level, pretty much always within 10 miles of my house. Pretty much all of the shows I play raise money to support causes I consider more dire than my "career" in the arts. I still perform because y'all have told me to. You've told me it matters. My family hasn't done that, and I understand why- they know I need to value paying work so I can independently keep a roof over my head. Most days I take on their standpoint: even if they funded my "arts career", what gives? Why is that a necessary thing for our system to fund? It's really not. Not this system.

Following the example of this author's disclosure, I should come through here and admit I'm extremely privileged in that I don't have to save up for a house in the future. My mom worked herself right up to the edges of sanity through out my life (she was single pretty much the whole time) to pay off her mortgage and now owns the house I grew up in. Once a year I get cash gifts under $1,000 for my birthday from the other side of my family, and that along with frugal habits and a job skills/ flexible work I picked up through out life adds up to mean that I have free time to spend on activities not approved of by the work-or-die labor market under technocratic capitalism.

I often try to eliminate my arts activities. In fact, I often feel like I need to leave my bands because I'm spending too much time on activities that I don't think help or hurt this economic system and not enough time fighting it in a strategic, effective way, if that is even possible. The system we are subjected to is what makes artists with no financial support feel like the things they do are worthless and don't matter. It's a weird paradox and I want to fight our way out of it.

I've been trying to re-route my free time into activism or meaningful art for activism for a long time. I honest to goodness don't believe anyone should try really hard to write songs or design performances or play music or write poetry or make art *unless they have to*. *Unless they can't not do it*. And the thing is, I've tried to get away from the arts for years because I think a lot of art is disgustingly in bed with the culture industry, a soul-sucking oxymoron who's concept is nevertheless reified under economic oppression.

I am for anti-industrial art, and anti-industrial art is occluded and rendered invisible by Capitalism. I think that there is amazing talent at all levels of the funding and visibility spectra in the arts. I don't think that any level of monetary involvement is abstractly deterministic of a performance or art piece's worth. I really respect artists who have found ways to make the funding thing work in a way that converses with that structure either explicitly or by opening up pathways for forms previously rendered irrelevant, but always already being practiced by so many other artists who are rarely if ever viewed by much more than a friend or two, maybe a living room of people. I also respect when people fight to bring forms they believe in into public view, regardless of how they got on stage. (And regardless of what form the stage takes).

But the reason I'm writing this here is that I want y'all to know that the people I really really think about all the time are artists who don't call themselves artists for one reason or another. Who play (whether through instruments, their body, combining materials in some form or another, or even in their heads) to calm themselves in the spaces between work and other struggles imposed upon them. Or who do these things to make their friends happy.

I am amazed by the people who see the value in the beauty they can add to groups of people aiming to exist as beautiful alternatives to the rather ugly, embarrassing, void-filled results of art purposed by money. I see you guys. You might not even see yourselves. I see you; I see us.

We rarely acknowledge ourselves as a movement, and if we did it would take on a different form that might occlude the beautifully differential, heterogenous, autonomous, yet still interdependent, interconnected, and critically, consciously ethical nature of our work. We tend to devalue ourselves because such a large part of ourselves is not articulated through dominant forms like massively communicated verbal rhetoric, critique that can be recognized and tracked via written word or broadcast spoken word, or even through the organizing of people as facilitated by written and spoken communication.

On the other side of this equation, I sometimes am totally appalled to hear that people doing extremely creative organizing under extremely oppressive conditions don't view that as creative, or as performance, or as art. Listen. The ear, the eye, the heart, hand, and vocal chords are all valid mediators. The organization of space and time and humans is an extremely valid mediator. Logic and rationality are very valid modes, and they are not as restrictive as some neoliberal (and possibly some post modernists) would have us believe. Nor are they restricted to one mode of expression. Nor is processing restricted to one part of the brain in every person. Balance. Diversity of the senses is and is enabling of biodiversity.

If you are articulating outside of the dominant mode of expression deemed acceptable by a dictum of work-for-a-fucked-system-or-die (problematically entangled with "be seen or die") it does not mean that PEOPLE don't see your value. It just means that Capital doesn't see your value.

I'm working a lot to try to go into a career where I can somehow have an impact on changing ideas around work and technology to open up space so that people who don't particularly love enslaving themselves to computers GET TO LIVE. Maybe I've got a weird way of going about it but, given my particular set of circumstances and affordances, that's what I'm doing. I seriously fuckin' value when I see others taking their own personal approaches to these problems we've got here. Using what they've got to do what they can. Don't beat yourself up for *not doing something you can't do yet. You can't do what you can't imagine; more of what you can imagine becomes reachable as more people reach for what we can imagine. We're not so disconnected. This is how we connect.

Stay safe n' healthy y'all. <3 (;

[adultfuntimes-blog]

Hey Ladies, she said awkwardly.

Ms. Can’t Do It

I am not good at dating. I have the whole have adult fun time thing down, no problems there. The element of actually wanting to spend time with someone outside of the adult fun time is not going well. Heman is turning out to be too much for me, which is hard for me to admit, but that is what I am here to do. I can intellectually recognize that it is not necessarily Heman himself, but the potential of hope for a nice human, who might want to treat me well, that he has unlocked that is the problem. Heman has jimmied loose the pain of mistreatment that I have sort of become numb, blocked out or gotten use to over so many years of being in a relationship for which I was never enough. It sucks.

I have worked very hard at my self-image over the years. The silver lining of being with someone who constantly deflects your thoughts and feelings, they force you to do a lot of self-reflection. I am lucky mine came in the form of realizing I am a wonderful mutha fuckin human being and damn capable of a whole hell of a lot all by myself! I am a strong independent woman who doesn’t need anybody to take care of her, which is why if I choose to want to incorporate someone in my life it is a big deal. This was something I tried soooo hard to show my husband, to prove he was special because by nature of me choosing to devote my life to him in the context of being my one and only romantic partner he was the most special person. I give a lot to those I love and so if I am choosing you for the most intimate of those loves you better feel fucking special. Unfortunately, he never did. This insecurity destroyed our relationship. His in ability to see me and appreciate that I worked hard at being a good partner to him and sometimes total disregard for my thoughts and feelings just became too much. His words didn’t match his actions and I couldn’t handle it. I know I am awesome and wonderful and I deserve to be with someone who also feels this way about me and therefore is motivated to treat me with kindness and respect. I do deserve that and I want it, I have always wanted it.  

Now I am not saying I want that from Heman, I seriously have known this human for 2 weeks, anyone can be a nice guy for that long and I am not ridiculous or irrational. However, it has highlighted for me that A. I still have some shit to work through before dating is truly an option and B. how fucking hard it is to date in a modern age. I am not talking about meeting people on aps, but the part once you meet someone you want to date and the texting as the fucking new mandatory means of communication. I can’t do text communication. I can barely flirt in person let alone over a fucking phone. Then do you read into the time lapses between texts, how do you put into context tone or use sarcasm? I hate hate hate it!!! I am a big communicator; I mean it is what I do for a living. I need all the non-verbal’s to help me interpret what message is being given to me and then I need to be able to use them to respond effectively. It’s too confusing otherwise. One of the other residual issues from my marriage is that I received a lot of mixed signals and these weren’t even via text. So I have found with Heman that I am really good at coming up with all sorts of bullshit that can skew perspective. So much unnecessary time, energy and anxiety spent on trying to interpret fucking texts! When the reality is you have no idea why they are doing what they are doing, texting or not texting you or what it means to them. I am not prepared for the highs and lows of hearing from someone and then not. I thought I was processing because my ex and I are getting along and I am enjoying my wonderful new life. However, part of what I have been doing to protect myself is not allowing the feelings of anger and pain to surface. I am angry that for years I was not appreciated. I am angry that for years I was told that my thoughts and feelings aren’t as important as those of my partner. I am angry that the reason I was callously disregarded by my spouse for years was because he was not processing his shit about a situation in which another man took advantage of me. Even though I begged for forgiveness and worked hard to show I had learned from what was a traumatizing situation for me. I am sad that I am 33 and never allowed myself to be treated better. I am tired and do not have the energy yet to date. Dating takes patience and the ability to give yourself gradually to someone. I am tired of giving a shit about how someone else feels about me and my default button being that is isn’t positive. So moral of the story is I got some work to do folks. I need to let this anger and sadness do its thing and then let it go. But this means more adult time fun stories to come.    

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[theranciddwarf]

Kouga Kagome fix Chapter 6

Lost and Found

An Inuyasha Fanfic

Chapter 6

Things Change

“I am a lost boy, from Neverland, usually hanging out with, Peter Pan. When we’re bored we, play in the woods, always running from captain hook.” - Lost Boy, Ruth B

The sight before her filled the young Miko with such warmth. A warmth she hasn’t felt in years. Hakkaku and her grandfather were nestled deep in conversation about historical artifacts, and most recently and argument on whether water imps truly existed. Souta, her mother and Ginta were playing a card game, her little brother’s dark eyes alight with unfiltered joy. Kagome’s own cheeks hurt as she stocked the fire in the large hut where they’d had their dinner. The first of the buildings were complete, with time to spare to help carry dinner from the house and start a decent fire. Kagome gave a small gasp as the logs fell. A light sigh came from beside her as Kouga reached out, careful of the flames.

“I told you to let me do it.” He teased, standing the logs back up.

“How am I ever going to learn if I don’t try?” She asked elbowing the demon in the ribs. He let out a short chuckle as he nodded. It took some time, but he had learned that his Kagome was not the same girl that screamed like a banshee as he leapt off cliffs with the poor girl slung over his shoulder like game. She refused to let Kouga do most things for her, in fact, she did just as much work on the construction as they had. She almost ripped his head off when he said she should let the demons handle the power tools. Not only was she fiercely independent, but she had learned how to use her powers like he had never seen before. It strengthened her body, made her able to lift things that no human girl of her size should be able to. He was distinctly impressed, but only for a moment. This was the woman that fought tooth and nail across the country side five hundred years ago to defeat the most powerful Hanyou that ever existed. Once he was sure that the logs were going to stay, he sat back once more, crossing his legs.

“Thanks Kouga.” His eyes darted to her face where that smile was still there, only a little less so.

“I told you I would. What’s pack for hn?”

“I didnt mean just the building. For… Everything else too.” Kouga stiffened as she leaned back against the wall of the hut beside him, folding her arms, her head ever so slightly leaned on his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Silly isn’t it? I can’t explain - you just - ” she sighed, “I feel better now, at least a little. When I decided on the grand re-opening of the shrine, I felt that at least I had a purpose again, like I wasn’t wandering aimlessly. And now… Things have changed again, I can’t put my finger on it… But I feel like everything’s going to be different from here on out.” She didn’t know if he’d understand what she meant. She didn’t even know what she meant, but she knew that was how she felt. What the future held, she couldn’t figure it out, but hope, like a silver lining on a cloud seemed to shine through the swirling darkness that clouded her heart. Her chocolate orbs glanced up at the wolf demon, peering through her eyelashes at him. So different, yet the same demon she remembered. He’d grown, inside and out. She could see the leader in him that had only started to bloom in the feudal era, he was still mouthy, and cocky, and at times a pain in the butt. Her wolf boy. The thought brought a blush to her face, as his eyes glanced down, their gazes meeting for just a moment before she snapped hers back to the fire, missing the smirk he couldn’t fight back.

“I’m here now Kagome.” He said softly, “of course everything’s going to change.” She could hear the grin in his voice.

“Put that ego away, Kouga. You’re gonna hurt someone.” She muttered, making the prince laugh out loud.

Across the room, Souta nudged his mother as it was her turn to play. She tore her gaze away from her daughter.

“Sorry dear, lost in thought.” She said with her motherly smile. Ginta his his smile behind his cards. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen their leader look so… peaceful. It was odd, but satisfying. He shared a quick glance with Hakkaku. Pack. Kouga was right, that’s exactly what Kagome needed, but it was obvious to even the youngest of their little party that she needed something more, even if she didn’t know it quite yet. So, did Kouga. More than he’d ever admit to anyone, not even his most trusted betas. He turned back to the game, his jaw dropping as he spotted the last cards placed.

“Pick up six!” Said Miyu with a little laugh.

“Victory will still be mine!” He barked as he scooped up his cards, letting out a loud ‘ha’ as he put down another two on top of the pile.

“Not fair!” Whined Souta loudly as he stared down at the cards.

“Shhh!” Hissed Miyu, tapping Souta on the shoulder. The room was filled with a sudden profound silence as Grandpa and Hakkaku heard the hushing, everyone turning to see what the commotion was. They’d fallen asleep. Grandpa opened his mouth wide to protest when Miyu pressed a hand to his lips, shaking her head. “Let’s go up to the house hm?” She whispered, earning a hushed whisper of agreement as the gathering moved to leave the two sleeping figures in peace. Only Miyu returned after getting the wolf brothers and Souta set up in the living room for a sleep over, placing a large heavy quilt over the two, ensuring the fire had died to a manageable size. She let the straw door swing shut as she headed back to the house.

Baby steps.

Kagome awoke At first morning light, as she did every day. She moved to stretch, but found herself unable to move. She glanced down at the strong arm thrown across her waist, the head nestled comfortably on her shoulder. A moment of confusion sent a shot of electricity down her spine until she realized who was curled into her side. Immediately she stilled, not wanting to wake the slumbering demon. When did they fall asleep? She couldn’t remember, but she decided that it was unimportant. The guy worked himself to the bone the day before. She couldn’t justify waking him at this hour, seeing as she could just barely see the beginnings of sunrise through the small window of the hut.

She also couldn’t bring herself to end the feeling in her body. A lush calm, that she couldn’t explain. As she stared down at the demon she raised a hand, her fingertips running through the long dark locks. His ponytail had fallen out sometime the night before. Rays of light peered in through the window, illuminating his face. His strong jaw, his brow that was so often in a hard set line. Too often. Why did such a trivial thing bother her? Why was seeing him so at peace such a relief? Why couldn’t she tear her gaze from his handsome face? His long lashes that ticked his cheeks, his lips that parted ever so slightly, his ears, that were unnatural, hiding who he really was. Why did that of all things bother her so much?

When the HELL did she start calling Kouga handsome? Her heart gave a hard thrum. What was going on?

“Ginta… Stop… Stop with the fuckin’ drums.” Grumbled the wolf prince as he curled further into the miko, holding her tighter as his head slipped onto her chest, just below her collar bone. Drums? There were no drums. Was her heart pounding with such ferocity?

From outside, she could hear laughter, she could feel the auras of the two demons approaching with her brother. They’d wake him! It was rare for Kagome to sleep in passed sunrise, so Souta probably planned for this. Thoughtful kid, but she couldn’t exactly get up to tell them to go back inside and play some video games or something. A lightbulb lit in her mind. If only she could concentrate hard enough.

Souta laughed as the mohawked wolf tried in desperation to make his hair stand on end. The back was a mess, an awful cowlick running up the back of his head.

“Just give it up already.” Said the boy, reaching up and giving him a jab in the ribs.

“Wanna fight little brother?” Barked Ginta, giving a loud cackle. Souta lunged forward, the demon chasing after him, but the two didn’t get far. They slammed into something invisible, throwing them back on their respective asses. . Hakkau snorted as the two dropped like flies, not expecting the sudden stop. Souta groaned as Ginta rolled off of him.

“Jeeze, who’s putting up barriers around here.” Growled Ginta, glaring up at the now visible dome that covered the newly built hut.

“Sis I guess. She’s a Miko, yeah?” Said Hakkaku, walking up to the barrier and giving it prod with his finger.

“Wait, Sis did that?” Said Souta, staring in confusion at the barrier that his eyes could barely make out.

“Well, whoever did it, we can’t get inside until they come out.” Said Ginta with a shrug. His stomach gave a sudden growl, as ferocious as an awakening boar. “Got any grub little brother?” Souta nodded, staring at the hut for a few more seconds before being helped to his feet by his newly found brothers. He grinned at them, before turning and leading them back to the house.

How long it had been, she didn’t know, but Kouga eventually stirred, his eyes flitted open as he stared around in confusion. She let out a small laugh. She had done the same thing. He lifted his head and glanced up at Kagome letting out a little gasp, his cheeks glowing a bright red to match hers before sitting up so fast that he made his head spin.

“I Uuh…” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say.

“Its alright, calm down.” She said, sitting up herself. “I didn’t want to wake you. It seemed like you needed the rest. I bet mum’s got breakfast on already.” She got to her feet and stretched, Kouga, still speechless followed closely behind, eyeing Souta, and his packmates that were seated about ten feet away, staring at the hut. “Oh yeah.” Said the miko, letting the barrier fade. She had forgotten all about it.

“So it was you, huh sis?” Said Hakkaku, clapping his brother on the back. “I told ya, they just didn’t want to be disturbed.” He snorted.

“I didn’t want anyone to wake Kouga. Why you guys didn’t sleep in is beyond me.” Clearly the comment flew over her head, but Kouga, caught it. The offending brother gave an awkward laugh, knowing he was going to get his ass handed to him the moment Kagome wasn’t looking. “Let’s go get some breakfast.” She said with a grin, turning towards the house.

“We’re okay! We already ate.” Called Hakkaku, leaping out of Kouga’s reach. Their alpha waved his fist at the two before following behind Kagome.

“You, are going to get us killed.” Snapped Ginta.

“He hasn’t killed us yet.” Said the other, sharing a grin with his brother.

“I don’t get it.” Said Souta, staring rather confused up at the demons.

“You’ll get it when you’re older.” Said the mohawked brother, ruffling the kid’s hair. “Let’s get to work huh?”

“Yeah!” Cheered the little human, turning and running off towards the building they had started the day before.

[leighasnotebook]

Title - Hey Future Leigha ;P

So.. I'm broke as fuck. I can't even seem to get a job. A job at a place I dont even like but need. I barely even made it home from internship at the humane society in Indy. I am on BELOW empty. I tried to sell a galaxy s4 at disc replay to get me by and they wouldnt even take it because apparently theres something wrong with it. So that was dissappointing as fuck too. I've been forced to borrow money from my mom who I STILL live with. So apparently I dont even have the abilty to be independent right now. Sure Im in school but I cant even afford to put gas in my tank to get there and I still owe 1000 dollars or more to my school. I dont even know where Ill work after I get my certificate. Thats right.. CERTIFICATE.. not a actual degree. Still. I stupidly decided to get a credit card a few years ago and now I'm maxed out and cant afford to pay it off. I at least have gotten on a payment plan that will make the interest 0% and make my monthly payment lower. My phones fucked because I broke the goddamn screen on it. So no one can even call me unless its on the house phone and I'm not home all the time AND its a cordless that apparently has fucked batteries in it because it just shuts off after like 10 - 15 minutes. I shouldve never even gotten a stupid "smart" phone. All its done is make me feel guilty about the extra money my MOM is spending for it on the bill. And it is way more fragile than a flip phone. Sure the extra shit on it was fun but I dont even need it. I dont care if Im "stuck" in the old times. At least it was reliable. I have grown up in my life with a nice place to live and nice things but that just isnt me. I know when I live on my own I wont live in a nice place and I wont have nice things. Its as if Ive been blindfolded to my actual lifestyle to the point where I agreed to getting nice things. Things Id never be able to afford by myself. After my car got totaled I got a 12k settlement which I had my dad take care of because he wanted to take it to use to get me a new car. Well he decided to get me a fucking expensive newer car.. the accident happened oct. 1st 2013.. I ended up driving a rape van (huge burgendy van with bars on the windows) to and from Ivy Tech and work for about half a year or more before my dad decided to take out a loan for a Toyota Camry 2013! Why on earth would you opt to get me a expensive car like that when I cant even afford gas or live on my own!? Now Im fucked because I cant pay the car payment.. my dads paying it which makes him think for some reason that its his vehicle. No on the contrary it was his decision to spring for a newer car of which I am entitled to 12k of. so yeah now I have a investment in something I cant even use because the insurance is insanely high and I cant afford it. Sigh Im just so fed up with all of this bullshit. If I could sell everything I have right now and just start new, that would be ideal. Sell the fucking Toyota, use the money to pay off my credit card bill, pay off school and maybe have enough to secure a place for me and my dog to live. Because I am not a goddamn straight woman who has a boyfriend to pay for half of everything. I feel like alot of girls live with their boyfriends and get off easy. Well thats not an option for me is all Im saying. I can barely even find a lesbian whos responsible and even has enough income to hold up their half of living expenses.. I cant say shit about that right now since Im in the same boat but still. Even when I do (which I usually do) have all my resources I still cant find a responsible GF. Either way Id still be dependant on whoever I was living with to keep my place. Even if they were a roommate. Which I guess would be the same financially if it were a significant other providing half. anyway.. Ive been trying goddamn hard to get a job. I signed up for Rover.com to watch dogs or walk dogs for people but IDK if my background check came back clean. which it should because I spent extra money so that it would be. Beyond all.. I am seriously just fed the fuck up with trying to manage all of the bullshit that I have to. It feels like I need 3 of me to accomplish all the shit in front of me. I am overwhelmed I guess is what that means. I feel so useless in the world. The only thing keeping me from spiraling into a severe depression is the fact that Im going to school for something that I love doing. Knowing that in a month and a half Ill be graduating is whats keeping my head up. Other than that.. its my friends and animals that hold up the rest. Some days I for real just want to get drunk and say.. FUCK IT ALLLLL. which is kind of what im doing right now.. but guess what? my box of cheap ass wine is almost gone so this will be a short lived release until im fucked again.. and cant even go to a party I was invited to go to on sunday. Im writing very unhinged right now. I need a goddamn stupid dumb job. And Ive been trying to get one for months. Now its even harder without a cellphone. "hey yeah just call my house phone and let me know about that job" just doesnt jive well with me because ITS A FUCKING HOUSE PHONE.. better than nothing but its real fucked trying to get a job when you cant answer your phone bc you dont have one of your own. gaaaahahahahaha fuckckkckck Im just so fucking stressed. I feel like I cant accomplish anything with the materials I have right now. Even if I had some money.. Got a full tank of gas and paid off my monthly bills I still wouldnt just magically have a job. Even if I got my phone screen replaced. Goddamn and Ive tried going into places but apparently Im a dumbass and come at the wrong times. Sigh.. just. fucking. schedule. me. for. a. interview. its not that hard. Theyre like "oh yeah were hiring" but other than saying that sentence they are so fucking unhelpful. "oh did you apply online?" uhh duh yeah I did you fuck. Why in the fuck would I not fill out an application and expect an interview. Fuckin assholes.. like I get it.. youre busy. but hey you wanna know what would ease that? If I was working right now and could take some of the work load off. Everytime someone would call about a job I would be so informative and supportive because I know what its like. Plus if I ever feel like Im overworked- which is alot of the time at those quick turnover jobs- I WANT the person inquiring about a job to get the job. Why? because I need them to take some of my workload off. Thats how it happens at pizza hut at least. you start with a bunch of people and then they dwindle down to where everyone is being over worked and more workers are needed as to not kill everyone who still works there. sigh.. I dont even want to work at pizza hut again but at this point I will take any fucking job I can get. I am being nickeled and dimed.. just like that fucking book I had to read in school. Given, all of it was brought upon my by my own past hand. I cant do anything about the past and its legit my past self just going crazy on a credit card that has me so fucked right now. After I get these cards paid off I will NEVER EVER EVER have another credit card again. I cannot be trusted with it. Great that I know that now that Im in debt out my ass. Yeah yeah and I have this theory that I learn things in life by trial error.. and guess what.. IVE FUCKING LEARNED.. and now that I have im still super fucked. Usually my trial error didnt cause me this much detrimental pain and suffering. usually it was like touching a hot stove and it was over with. but no.. this has been a very slow stinging burn that wont let up. I know.. I know that I will have to kill myself working my ass off and not having any shred of a life to get out of this hole. but the thought of it just really really makes me sad. Not saying It makes me not want to get a job. because NO WAY I need a job ASAP like yesterday. like if someone walked up and would pay me 20 dollars to eat a worm I would. Because it would spare me the shame in asking my mom YET AGAIN for gas money. God I am so tired of asking anyone for ANYTHING. Its the last thing I want to do in fact. Theres only so much you can ask of someone before they decide they wanna say nope.. youre on your own. and you know? Im surprised my mom hasnt told me no yet. Shes really really helpful. I think she understands me but also just wants me to get a job already so I wont keep borrowing from her. Which is understandable completely.. and thats exactly what I want too. At least i dont just sit around getting drunk and stoned all day in my pajamas. Im actually trying here. Theres nothing more that I want to just have a steady income. I dont care what kind of shit I have to drudge through to get to that point. I am so able bodied and ready to sweat and work and give myself away to a corporation for money. But guess where Im going to get the gas money to get to that job? FUCK IF I KNOW lol. goddamnit. I have really done it this time. How did I let it get this bad? How did I let myself fall so far? I dont even have anything else to sell to disc replay and the only other things I have to sell are all my paintball equiptment.. and I dont even really know how I would go about doing that. Craigslist? idk. I am flailing..... my wings are clipped and i cant fly. I have maybe a few dollars in change right now. Man how I used to just throw it in a jar willy nilly when I had a job. Not touching it at all for months and months. and now its all I have. FUCK. my rope is covered in kerosine and its been on fire for months. Someone in this world needs to cut me a fucking break and give me a job. Just 1 fucking person to say "you got the job, heres your uniform, come in monday at 8". I have been able to keep my hope through the worst of situations in my life. I feel it wearing reaaally thin right now. I almost had to walk miles just to get home today. you know its bad when you cant even afford to drive home. When youre just waiting for your car to give out and its screaming "i need gas!!!" You actually make it home and you get out of the car and hug it and praise it. Thank you. Thank you so much for holding out on me. I will get you gas as soon as I can I promise. Its like if you were traveling by horse and didnt have any water or grains for it to sustain itself but it powers through for you. I feel like a huge bum slacker bitch. Like I shouldve worked harder. done this done that. And maybe I wouldnt have ended up in this tight situation. The only thing in this world that is mine is my body and my animals and the relationships I have with my friends. I'm going to call Pizza hut right now. Ive been trying to fucking get this interview scheduled and they keep being little bitches over the phone. Not this time. I wont let it happen. "oh were in a lunch rush" dude. no. Fuck off. lol. Not this time. BRB. ya okay same old shit.. OH the hiring manager isnt here. Okay I understand but why dont you ACTUALLY give them my name and number and HAVE them call me. I know I know I will call the HIRING MANAGER on monday. See? its just a let down. I will call monday and demand an interview. I am more than qualified for your dumb job. anyway.. I know my friends and family will always be around to help me out. But I am a very stubborn person and have always wanted to do things my way and on my own. asking for help is something that I hold as a last resort. In the situation im in I am at my last resort time. It takes money to make money. money for the gas- to go to work- to get the money- for the gas- to get to work. Thats a 2 week process in itself. once I get past that threshold Ill be more self-sustaining. GGaaah! Please.. UNIVERSE! Im begging you!! Give me a job! Please please please please please! I need to get back ontop of it all. Hold out hope... hold out hope... crunching gears inside me trying to keep that train moving. GO. keep the rusty gears going. Keep swimming like Dory says. I feel like im trying to keep swimming but im in a puddle barely sustaining life itself. Gasps of water into my drying gills every couple seconds. All the while "hold out hope, just keep swimming" goes through my head like a mantra. I go from being super hopeful and positive to super hopeless and negative. Sometimes I'm just on this mid-line pergatory where I dont know how to feel or how I should feel. I know that a lot of people deal with hardships like me. Usually just pushing all their feelings down day to day thinking.. eh ill figure it out. Somethings got to give in for me. things will be different and get better soon. This isnt the end of the world. Im not dieing.. yet. But there are times where no matter what your troubles.. you cannot just push it down anymore. You have to sit there and stare into the eyes of a skull and think.. things are going bad. This isnt how it should be. I shouldnt feel like this. Something is wrong in this equation because its not equaling out right. So here I sit. In my familiar place where Ive faced a lot of things in life. In the garage. (wow a disc replay commercial just came on the radio.. how ironic... fuck u guyz lol). Ive dealt with sooo much in this garage. Most of my epiphanies have happened in here. Most of my hardships. At least in my adult life. And when I wasnt in Terre Haute. Always staring at stuff in here. Listening to the radio. Smoking cigarettes. Drinking. Thinking. [insert link to In The Garage by Weezer here] I cant even explain the range of feelings Ive felt in this garage. Love, lust, loss, depression, happiness, worry, anxiety, calmness, anger, thoughtfulness, perceptiveness, desire, turmoil, empathy, regret, sickness, healthiness, Ive felt hot and cold, bad and good, and at the end of the day when I sit here. It feels so familiar. It could be anywhere. but in this little box on the planet is where all these things have opened up like a bud. So many conversations with friends, on the phone, in person. Oh so very telling and depending on if there was snow, dead leaves, flowers, or sun outside the dynamic would change ever so slightly. And as friends have come and gone, people have died or were born, this has been a constant place for me for the last eight years. After I caught a big fish, built a snow fort, or made a drunken dancing video to missy elliot this place stayed the same and was always here. I feel like im confessing a love affair between me and my garage right now.. but I wanted to express my gratitude to these four walls which I believe have absorbed a lot of the things I am talking about right now. I remember when I first started to dwell in this garage. I was still drinking and smoking on the down-low. Didnt want my mom to know. I would listen to the radio and write just like Im doing now except it was often in a notebook. Its the only way for me gain solace in my life sometimes. Love often drove me to worry as I listened to deftones, linkin park, or staind or anything that came on x-103. Id just scribble on page after page I would stop caring if it was legible... That shear fact that id stop caring in general was all I wanted. I wanted to release all my cares into a song or a feeling or a writing. What do I want? who do i need? who AM I ? Sometimes I never know. I dont know things alot. as much as Id like to believe I have every little thing under control.. I never have it all. this isnt to say that its a negative thing. Sometimes you simply cannot wrangle every little thing into a place you think it belongs. often things are flying like kites with brittle strings. they break off and float out of bounds yet still connected just not within reach. Its definitely angering at times. you think.. why cant i keep my shit in check? but if you think about it. maybe it was never "your shit". I really think its better to not stress over things that blow away. Youre in a spot you let shit fly and it ends up gaining its own separate current without you. You cant always be strong enough to keep everything where you want it. It doesnt work that way, you cant control everything. HELL sometimes you cant control anything. and I know how that feels. shit. right now I could still be walking on the side of the road away from my broken down car. holding up my thumb trying to get home. you cant hold everything down with a thumb tac or a bad attitude. things will happen and ya you probably could have avoided some things but I think things happen for a reason. Maybe to teach you that you in fact are not in control. That things are or arent just black and white. Reppercutions.. actions that lead to situations that you have to handle. Its all apart of one thing. you... its you. hah. I mean you make choices.. and theres always a second and third happening. In my case.. it makes me feel like im unintelligent when I make a choice and it causes something bad. Ex. If I were to have to walk home today.. my mind would have been full of .. "well thats because I didnt have enough gas" Well why didnt I? because I didnt have the money. Why didnt I? because I dont have a job. Why dont I have a job? because Im an irresponsible entitled person. I act like the world will bend to my whim when it doesnt work that way. When weve all got the same probability of things going our way. Why should I think I'm any different? why? because of all those times I made it home when my gas tank was below E? what about those times when I didnt get so lucky? that time my car stopped on a highway and I was late to work and I got fired? Its just this numbers game in my head. Will it be okay or not. I never know but my brain urges me to believe yes. youll be okay. and when im not i think well.. It was about a 50/50 that this would happen and I knew that deep down.. so I cant really be too mad right? lets just walk a few miles and get what i deserve. meanwhile I think about everything I could have done that wouldve lead to a different outcome. ya hmm. maybe if i had a job.. id have gas in my tank.. and this wouldnt have happened. maybe..hmm just maybe..? You know when you drive down a highway and you see a person walking it? You can gaurantee that that person is thinking... how could I have avoided this? That person is me that person is you. Walking on the grass on the side of the road.. looking at all the trash people discard from their car windows. Really slows your mind down when youre walking where you normally drive through. You see people zoom by who will get to their destinations on time. Who had the money and intellect to just buy some gas. We all have our days when were in the gutter. When I have mine, it forces me to slow down.. to really look at my life. Why did this happen.... why am I stuck and fucked like this again. Even though I magically made it home today on my below E tank I still see this as a wake-up call. It brings me back to the times when I didnt make it home. I felt like a lost dog. and ya I know.. poor me.. first world problems. Oh man Leigha had to walk 5 miles to get home because she ran out of gas in the automobile that she has available for her to drive 24-7 usually. And dangg. she even had a full meal before this walk.. poor her. I know I know. Its totally crap. Its not like I almost died or was starving and in a desert left to die. In reality, on this planet I am lucky. I am a lucky person. But to say that we still dont have our problems would be to say that anyone with a roof over their head was flawless. It makes me realize that yeah, first world problems are nothing to those in third world countries. But I shouldnt feel invalidated if I have room to improve my life. Everyone in this world has room to improve their lives. I am not solitary in this one bit. in fact I feel like I am unaware of tons and tons of stuff in life. Theres so many times when I just simply dont know something. Makes me feel like I dont know anything about anything sometimes haha. its like "oh you didnt know about this?!?!" uhhh no I didnt. Should I have? Woops? am I squandering my priveledge to learn about things I should know about? When it comes down to it. I am never done learning. I am never done growing as a person. I am so ignorant to so many things simply because I have never been exposed to them. I cant walk the earth acting like I have a grasp on everything when I dont. I dont know what anyone else goes through day to day around the world.. I cant compare my life to anyone elses if I've only lived my own separate life. I can relate to people of course but I do not think that anyone can fully understand how something feels unless it happens to them. sure ill say "oh yeah Ive felt that before" or "I felt like that when... etc etc" but I dont know how it feels through someone elses eyes, in someone elses shoes. What Im trying to say is that I have had some really really hard times. Personally I feel that they are HARD TIMES. For me and maybe me only. Maybe others would look at these "hard times" and laugh and say "HAHAH you think thats hard?". But that being said this is how I feel and it cannot be undermined by anyone. Beyond all these technicalities that I decided had to be stated, right now I feel as though I have entered the abyss. I feel like Im in a place that is neither here nor there. I am a real nowhere man who has no real nowhere plans. I used to want to get a tattoo that was the symbol for "nobody". It was a onyx or something I dont remember the spelling. For a long time I thought I was nobody. I thought I would just bend to the whim of anything or anyone. And at the time, I thought that was just me. Me was nobody since I felt like everybody but nobody at the same time. Then I thought.. hmm I dont think I should get this tattoo because what if someday I become somebody. And im glad that I didnt get that tattoo because I AM somebody. I guess there are sometimes that my past self is right about how my future self will feel. I feel like everyone is usually thinking about the future. How they will be, where they will live, what they'll be doing and who theyll be doing IT with (bow-chicka). And do you know what I think? I think that everyones present self is the best link to that future self. OBVIOUSLY. but think about it like this. You .. RIGHT NOW.. can have a serious effect on your future self. Not just with succeeding and blah blah blah boring shit like that. Listen. About 6 or 7 years ago I made a video of myself talking to my future self. I completely forgot about that video. I came across that video one day and HEY it was ME! I didnt remember it AT ALL. and as I watched it it really really felt like my past self was talking to me. it was SURREAL AS FUCK. and on point! Ever since that day I have been making videos to my future self. Even stating in the video that I know Im going to just be drunkenly watching this video. Which usually is also on point! hah. But I strongly suggest that more people do the same thing. maybe just check in with your future self every now and then and say hey. what the fuck is up?! I hope you arent broke as shit and running out of gas. haha. its actually pretty comical the stuff youll begin to find your past self saying to you. I think documenting your life is a really good thing. You can learn so much just by sifting through your past experiences that youve written down or video taped. Right now for instance I feel like I need some guidance. So I think I will revisit some of my past selfs videos and make another one. You talk about how youre doing and how youve fucked up and tell your future self about all of it. Then in a year or two guess whos giving you pointers? YOU! haha its really actually hilarious. who'd of thought that it would be what you said to yourself 2 years ago that would set your world straight. I think I should go revisit my videos now. I need some guidance. :D In other news. not doing so well right now. This writing has definitely helped. Leigha Horvath- Signing off. ;*