#anyways I’m willing to bet real money that the posts making people leave are the ones where I shit on Lestat

[bioshocked-astroghost]

it’s so funny to watch as I collect new followers from my IWTV posts only to lose 1 or 2 after a couple of days

i know which posts are making them leave and i will absolutely not stop posting them <3

[frostedfaves]

Dark Paradise

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!WandaNat x fem!reader

Summary: You meet the infamous Avengers on spring break with your best friend Peter, and two of them seem to adore you more than expected. Requested here by my lovely 🐞anon.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! dark themes, manipulation, mind control, blackmailing, age gap (reader is 21), dubcon (saying this just to be safe because Wanda uses her powers for evil a lot here), smut: oral, fingering, penetration/sex toy use, voyeurism (kinda), edging, overstimulation (if I forgot something please let me know!)

A/N: hi this is 6k words, which is the longest single fic I’ve ever written/posted here haha. also the end is not technically the end, if you know what I mean. anyway this took forever to write so enjoy this super far from canon fic and please tell me what you thought!! (also if you’re on my taglist and you weren’t tagged it’s because your age wasn’t in your bio)

-

“Here, let me take that for you,” Peter offers when he notices you headed toward the car, and you hand your suitcase to him with a smile.

“Thanks, P.”

You close the car door behind you after getting in on the passenger side, instantly reaching for his phone resting on the dashboard once you were buckled in. The two of you had an unspoken rule that you controlled the music whenever you traveled together, so his library was filled with various playlists you’d created simply because you didn’t trust him not to listen to the same five songs for the rest of his life.

“This is different,” Peter comments as he gets in on the driver’s side and catches the opening notes to an upbeat song. “I thought you were going to go with something calmer to help you sleep, like you usually do.”

“Well, I’m not usually going to meet the Avengers, so I’m too nervous to sleep.” You turn to pout at him as he drives off. “Is it too late to cancel?”

“Don’t even think about it. If I show up without you, everyone will think you’re imaginary.”

“Do they think you can’t make any friends outside of Ned?” you question as you open a bottle of water. “Because they’re not wrong.”

“I can make friends!” Peter whines and a quiet snorting sound escapes you. 

“You can’t use me as an example.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not actually friends.”

He picks up on your teasing nature and rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh as you lean back and settle into your seat more. You had well over three hours to stress about spending a week with the world’s most popular superheroes, and you’d rather be comfortable while you do so.

-

“Wake up, we’re here!”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of Peter’s voice, and any of the nerves that left long enough to let you sleep made a U-turn and hit you again, full force. Sitting up straight in the seat, you practice breathing properly while stretching and taking a look around as he pulls into the garage.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once he parks, placing a hand over yours as he meets your gaze and you smile.

“I’ll be fine, P. I’m not gonna miss out on hanging out with you just because your super family is super intimidating.”

“Good. Besides, it won’t even be that bad! I’m willing to bet $1 million that they’ll love you.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” you tell him as the two of you get out of the car. “But you’re going to regret that bet when I use your money to retire early in some faraway rural town.”

Peter carried both suitcases as you made your way to an elevator, and you jumped when you suddenly heard a male voice.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker and Ms. L/N.”

“What is that?” you questioned as you faced Peter with wide eyes and he chuckled. 

“You’re hearing Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s AI. Hey Jarvis, can you take us to the common room, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker.”

“This is so cool,” you comment as you look around the suddenly moving elevator. “How does it know my name?”

“Knowing everything is kind of its job, I guess.”

“Underoos!” a voice calls as soon as the doors open, quickly revealing itself to belong to Tony Stark as his gaze lands on you next. “So she is real.”

“I told you!” Peter defends as you step off the elevator together. “Mr. Stark, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, kid,” Tony greets you with a shake of your hand. “I’m glad he found you. I was starting to worry that he’d build a robot to spend the rest of his life with.”

“I’m just his best friend, so it’s still possible.”

“Is this your friend, Peter?” Steve cuts off Peter’s response as he enters the room, moving to shake your hand next. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, I’m going to show her to our rooms and then we’ll be back for dinner,” Peter tells everyone once you’d been introduced to Pepper, Bruce and Clint as well, and you’re about to head for the elevator again when someone interrupts.

“How about we take her down to her room instead?”

Your eyes widen as you watch none other than Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff enter the room hand in hand. Natasha’s hair seemed much longer than the last time she’d been in the public eye, but her all-knowing smirk was just the same and her green eyes were even more piercing in person. You noticed a bit of red glowing in Wanda’s eyes, which faded as she probably realized you’d seen, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she hated you already.

“I know what you’re up to, Red.” Tony seemed accusatory as he pointed a finger at the pair. “You can’t bribe her into helping you cheat tonight.”

“Maybe I planned on giving her tips for surviving this testosterone filled tower.” 

Natasha steps forward and grabs your hand with her free one, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda has your suitcase floating in front of you as they lead you into the elevator.

“Sorry to whisk you away like that,” Wanda apologizes as the doors close with her head tilted to see you past Natasha. “We’re just excited to meet a new woman here.”

“No, it’s okay!” you insist breathlessly, your nerves slowly returning as Natasha lightly squeezes your hand. “I’m actually really excited to meet the two of you.”

“You know who we are?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I know you personally, but I know that you’re one of the original team members.” You make eye contact briefly with Natasha before turning to Wanda. “And because the news stations somehow get ahold of everything, I know you joined after you helped everyone stop Ultron before he could create that indestructible body and destroy the world.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although I wish I could’ve saved my brother, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you lost him...or that you even had a brother.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures you with a smile as she lets go of Natasha, shifting to the other side of the elevator to grab your free hand. “I asked Fury to keep Pietro a secret because I didn’t want to see or hear any negative opinions from people that never even met him.”

“And we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Natasha chimes in as the doors open to reveal a new setting. “This is our floor. We set up a spare bedroom here so we can spend time together away from the boys...when you’re not with Peter, of course.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!” 

They lead you past their living room and kitchen, and you shamelessly admire the simple decor with little personal touches spread about. Turning into a hallway, Natasha walks ahead of you and Wanda to open a door to a bedroom.

“What do you think?” she asks with a smile that widens upon seeing your expression. “I’m guessing it’s good, then.”

“It’s perfect!” you cry out as you walk past to enter the room, immediately noticing the eggshell colored walls trimmed with your favorite color along the borders. “Wow, this is four times the size of a normal bedroom. Wait a minute.”

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks when she sees you pick up the glass figurine on the nightstand. “Peter mentioned your love of this animal and I have a whole collection of them from different places.”

“Like it? I love it! I have the same one in my dorm room!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can get you a different one.” She steps forward as she brings your suitcase to the floor beside the bed and you hug the small object close to your chest. 

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” you assure her with a grin, which brings one to her own face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the set up. When you’re ready to head up to dinner, we’ll be waiting by the elevator. Also, if you ever need anything, our room is right across the hall.”

Natasha points to the closed door a few feet away, and you acknowledge her statement with a nod before they leave the room, closing your door nearly all the way behind them. You flop down on the bed with a dreamy sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling with a night sky painted on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this place.”

-

On the elevator ride up to join everyone for dinner, Natasha and Wanda take turns asking you questions about your classes and any friends you’d made, what you liked to do when you weren’t studying. You had to admit that the level of interest they had with you was shocking but flattering, especially when they insisted you sit between them at the table to continue your conversation.

“You don’t seem to be nervous anymore,” Peter acknowledges as you sit down, and Wanda faces you immediately.

“Were you nervous about meeting us?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer timidly, avoiding catching anyone’s curious glances by directing a glare toward Peter. “You might be normal people in here, but to the rest of the world, you’re portrayed as powerful and untouchable beings.”

“Maybe when they’re not talking about how much damage we’ve caused,” Bruce mumbles under his breath as the elevator doors opened again. 

“I’m here, I’m here!” a voice calls as footsteps hurry toward the dining area, and Sam Wilson is revealed as he rounds the corner. “Sorry, I’m late. I was--”

“On a date, we know. You only told us that 500 times.”

“Don’t be jealous, old man. You’re married.” Sam grins at Clint as he sits next to him before his attention turns to you. “Do we have a newbie?”

“No, Mr. Wilson. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Call me Sam, kid.” He smiles at you as he goes for his silverware, and you’re just about to acknowledge him when his expression suddenly turns serious. “I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re an independent and capable adult, and I should address you as such.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam clears his throat and shakes his head as if he was clearing his mind. “I just suddenly felt the need to correct myself…You have any powers we should know about, Y/N?”

“No!” you quickly respond with widened eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I’m pretty used to older people calling me kid by now.”

From your left side, Natasha asks Clint to recall an embarrassing tale for you and the table livens up again, but you can’t seem to move past the unsettling way Sam shifted gears from calm and casual to uptight and disciplined. The image stayed with you through the rest of dinner even after he seemed to fully recover, until dishes were cleared away and replaced with games, and you suddenly had a lot more to focus on.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he gets to be on your team again when I haven’t had him once.”

“Is anything fair with the guy who could use his personalized AI to cheat for him?”

“Could I do that? Yes. But have I done that? Maybe.”

“Wanna grab some fresh air with us?” Natasha suddenly asks you, causing you to frown.

“Aren’t we about to play another game?”

“It’ll take them another half hour before they finally decide something,” Wanda assures you as her fingers thread through yours gently. “We have plenty of time, and they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They lead you by the hand to the elevator once more, going up a few floors before leading you out onto a balcony. Because you were so much higher than most of the surrounding buildings, there was an incredible view of the sun that was probably minutes away from disappearing to the other side of the world. The air is chillier than when you’d arrived, but you had to admit that standing in the cool breeze is worth a few goosebumps on your skin. Your hands are released as you reach a bench near the ledge, and you climb over it to sit as the other two women settle on either side of you.

“Why did Peter decide to share his secret with you?”

“Technically he didn’t,” you recall with a laugh. “He’d gone out to deal with something that activated his spider sense or whatever and I came to his dorm room to sleep after an exam because I was too tired to walk all the way to my place. Anyway, I walk in at the same time he’s coming back in through the window, and I swear we both sat there for a full two minutes before either of us could think of anything to say.”

“It’s still very nice of you to keep such a big secret for him,” Natasha praises, and your laughter quiets down as you take in her words.

“I guess I just know what it feels like to not want your life to change drastically because of one thing.” Your gaze shifts between the women for a moment. “That reminds me, I wanted to ask--”

“Wait, look at this!” Wanda quickly cuts you off with an enthusiastic grin. “You’re about to witness one of my favorite things about living here.”

She directs you to lean over and look at the streets as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you. Street lights begin turning on at what seems to be the center of the city and quickly spreading, increasing the radius of well-lit neighborhoods by the second. It was a mesmerizing sight that--until every lamp was on--nearly made you forget the question you were building toward.

“That was so cool!” you express honestly before clearing your throat awkwardly. “So I wanted to ask if the two of you were dating...or in a relationship or whatever. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything of course, just wondering because you share a room and floor, and you seem to be really into holding hands.”

“Well, I’d never really been into holding hands or a lot of other forms of affection before I met Wanda, but she seemed to flip some switch inside of me.” Natasha admitted with a bashful chuckle as she glanced at Wanda before turning to study you. “And your hands are so perfect to hold.”

“To answer your question, we are together.” Wanda rests a hand on your thigh and casts a sweet smile in your direction when you face her again. “Natasha was the first to give me a chance after everything with Ultron, and initially I thought I was just feeling grateful to receive some type of positive attention from someone other than Pietro. It wasn’t until Tash called me out on staring at her lips that I realized I wanted more than friendship.”

“The only reason I did was to confirm she was feeling the same things I’d finally come to terms with myself.” Natasha chuckles as Wanda sends over a bit of red mist to squeeze her own thigh. “What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’re feeling more than friendship for Peter?”

“Oh no,” you quickly denied with a chuckle. “He’s the perfect example of a great boyfriend, but not my boyfriend. Plus I’d rather not have the same experience as MJ did.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ‘close friends to a relationship that ends with each person pretending the other doesn’t exist’ experience. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, that does sound messy,” Natasha sighs as she subtly rests her hand on your other thigh. “So you’re not looking for a great boyfriend. What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing really, at least until I finish school, but having a girlfriend would be nice. I’d like to be with someone that respects me and can take care of themselves when I’m not around, because I tried the ‘caring for someone’ thing and it sucks when they don’t put in the same effort that you do.”

“Maybe you should try someone older, more mature,” Natasha suggests as she shifts to squeeze your knee lightly, and you start to feel a bit nervous about where she’s going with this. “Maybe two people that already have their shit together and would go to the ends of the earth to please you.”

“Okay, um…” You push both of their hands away with a bit of difficulty. “You both seem great and you’re incredibly attractive, but I’m not really interested.”

“Don’t worry about it, detka.” Natasha pushes your shoulder down as you try to get up, and Wanda cups your cheek with her hand.

“You may not be interested now…” She stands with Natasha and leans in to kiss your forehead, letting her lips linger on your skin as she continues. “But you will be.”

She pulls away and winks before lacing her fingers through Natasha’s as they leave the balcony, and you gasp in air as the tension they’d built seems to exit behind them. You finally decide to head back once you’ve taken a few minutes to catch your breath and calm your shaking limbs, but you wonder how long the calm will truly last.

-

You found yourself waking up suddenly and practically flying into a sitting position as if someone had pulled you up, but luckily the room is empty. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings to assure you’re truly alone, and you notice your door is cracked right before you hear an unidentifiable sound.

“Fuck.”

Despite every fiber of your being screaming at you as one would do to a character in a horror film, you decide to climb out of bed to investigate what you were hearing, justifying your actions with the excuse of seeing if your floor-mates were in danger, as if you could save them. A few seconds after opening your door fully and peeking out made you realize that they were more than okay.

“Fuck! Right there, please don’t stop.”

“Such a dirty mouth, malyshka.”

You’re quick to return the door to its cracked position, leaning against the nearby wall with wide eyes as you attempt to process the image across the hall. The bedroom door sits wide open, giving you the chance to examine every inch of bare skin of the two women spread across the bed, Wanda resting on her arched back with her hands in Natasha’s red hair buried between her legs. Her moans seem to raise in volume, pitch and frequency as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge, and you ignore the warm feeling in your lower abdomen as you hurry back to bed and throw a pillow over your exposed ear.

-

“Good morning.”

Your free hand quickly shoots upward to catch your water glass as it slipped through your fingers in your moment of shock, and you try not to make a deal of hearing two sets of footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep last night? I know how scary it can be to rest your eyes in a new place.”

“I think I did pretty well,” you answer quietly as you step away from the fridge and lean against a section of the counter that faces out into the rest of the room. “The bed’s really nice.”

“You’re lying,” Wanda accuses as she crosses the room, eyes turning red and hands lifting toward your face.

“What are you--”

“Couldn’t sleep because of us, right?” She chuckles when you go limp under her touch, and Natasha ducks between the two of you to save your glass for the second time. “Did you enjoy hearing us that much?”

“You did sound really good,” you tell her with a drowsy smile as she pins you against the counter to keep you from falling.

“I bet you wish you were in my place, don’t you?” Her tone is light and teasing at first, becoming a bit stern as she shifts to push her thigh between your legs and you instantly roll your hips against the pressure. “Or maybe you want to taste me while Natasha fucks you?”

“No.”

“No?!” she fires back immediately, leaving a red mist around your temples as she grabs your waist with both hands to keep you grinding against her. “You mean you don’t want to cum right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A breathy moan escapes you as your eyes flutter closed, and if your head wasn’t being forcefully held in place, it would’ve tipped backward. You feel what must be Natasha’s fingertips grazing along your jaw and tracing a line down the side of your neck and toward your shoulder, repeating the gentle motion as goosebumps appeared all over the exposed skin.

“Is everyone decent?”

The fog behind your eyes seems to clear in seconds, and you blink in confusion when you open your eyes to see Natasha and Wanda making coffee nearby. You try to recall even coming into the kitchen, but everything from the moment you stepped into the bathroom to get ready is a blur, so you shake your head and reach for your glass of water on the counter as Natasha responds.

“Come in, Peter.”

“Morning, everyone,” Peter greets cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, his grin falling when his eyes land on you. “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth with the full intention of telling him that you are not okay, not when you were missing at least an hour of memory, and bits of last night were slipping away from you too. But before you could speak, a cold feeling seems to pass through the back of your skull to slip into your brain, and a switch flips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you respond with a chuckle. “You worry too much, spiderling.”

“The world’s a stressful place,” he grumbles when you playfully ruffle his hair. “Anyway, are you ready to go soon?”

“Where are you headed?” Natasha quickly asks with a frown. “Y/N hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

“We’re meeting Aunt May, so we’ll eat with her.”

“I just have to grab my bag,” you explain before heading down the hall to your temporary room, feeling the chilly sensation leaving you as you get further away from the kitchen, and it thankfully doesn’t return when you head back. “Ready.”

“Have fun!” Natasha calls as Peter heads for the elevator again, quickly grabbing your wrist once he’s out of sight. “See you tonight, printsessa.”

Her hand quickly shifts to grip the back of your neck as she leans in to kiss your cheek, and the two women are wearing sweet smiles as you turn away from them to catch up with Peter, attempting to shake the shell-shocked expression from your features.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” you insist as the doors close, in hopes that you really would be fine.

-

Meeting Peter’s aunt was much more of a pleasant experience than you expected, and it was obvious she adored you by the way she spoke to you, although part of you felt she was just happy Peter had more people around to love him. Your day was cut a bit short when MJ unexpectedly approached Peter, requesting to talk to him, and Aunt May offered to drive you back to the tower so you both could escape that awkward mess of a conversation.

“It was so great to meet you today,” you tell her with a grin as you take off your seatbelt.

“Likewise, honey. You have my number so just call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

She pulls you into a hug over the middle console and you thank her again for the ride as you get out of the car, trying not to seem too nervous when you notice Natasha and Wanda standing in the lobby. Your plan was to walk past them without speaking, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Why was she hugging you?” Natasha asks coldly as you enter the building and you sigh.

“She was just saying goodbye--wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

You keep walking until they’re no longer in your peripheral, stopping abruptly as a red mist surrounds your legs, and your eye-rolling is cut short when Wanda appears in front of you and grabs your chin harshly.

“If Tash asks you a question, you answer.”

“Without attitude,” Natasha adds, which makes you want to roll your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get the rules handbook when I arrived. Can I go now?”

“You know what?” Wanda cuts off Natasha’s angry response with a smirk. “You can go.”

The red mist surrounding you disappeared, and despite the suspicious feeling that washed over you, you continued on toward the elevator with your head held high. You refused to let them get to you.

-

It was subtle at first. A slight tingling between your legs that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. In the very beginning, you were worried that something was wrong until you realized where the feeling was coming from when it turned into slow circles around your clit as you caught up with Peter in his room. By dinner, there was the added sensation of fingers curling inside you at a steady pace, and you hoped no one would notice your hips slightly bucking under the table as you attempted to repeatedly chase a release that never came.

A movie follows dinner today, and you make sure to cover yourself with a large blanket because you were still being edged and you couldn’t stop moving at this point. You even try to slide your hand into your sweatpants to finish the job yourself, and your jaw clenches in anger every time your fingers lock up because you know who’s responsible.

“Okay, you win!” you announce as you walk into the kitchen on Natasha and Wanda’s private floor, not missing the look shared between the two women. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Can you please just stop teasing me?”

“How about we help you finish instead?”

You should decline. You should just say ‘no’ because letting them finish you off tonight will turn into an attachment that you know you don’t want, nor are you ready for. Inviting them in will be equivalent to selling your soul, and you’re not sure you want to put a price on it. But the ache below your stomach is persistent, and if they won’t let you touch yourself, someone has to do it.

“Fine.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it,” Wanda teases as she grabs your hand and starts leading you toward their bedroom. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She pushes you back onto the surprisingly large bed as soon as you’re close enough, instructing you to take off your shirt and bra while she watches. Once your top half is completely exposed, she leans forward to run her hands from your shoulders down toward your nipples, circling them with her thumbs until they harden.

“I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, you don’t?” she asks in a mocking tone as she reaches for the band of your sweatpants and pulls them down, placing her palm over the wet spot in your panties. “Then what’s this?”

“Please,” you beg through a quiet moan, bucking your hips again when she presses her thumb against your clit through the fabric. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Patience, detka.”

You watch with wide eyes as Natasha and Wanda both strip away their own sweatpants, revealing the toys tied to their legs. Natasha goes to untie hers while Wanda uses her powers to rip away your ruined panties in one fluid motion.

“There she is.”

Natasha puts her hand on Wanda’s back and forces her to bend over, and you bite your lip as her eyes flutter closed and mouth falls open while Natasha thrusts into her. You’re just about to grab Wanda’s hand to lead her where you want, when her eyes open suddenly with a glowing red surrounding her pupils, and your wrists are bound together over your head by an invisible force.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Don’t get too cocky, malyshka,” Natasha reminds her as she grabs a fistful of her hair and slams into her, causing Wanda to moan and giggle at the same time.

“My apologies, Tash.”

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief as Wanda finally slid two fingers inside of you, her thrusts deepening each time as Natasha fucked her toward you with her hands on her hips. The sounds coming from your mouth and between your legs were embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she brought you closer and closer to the edge, until a loud whine escaped you as she removed her fingers and delivered a slap to your glistening folds.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” she orders through her own moans, holding you down when you begin grinding into her hand. “I’m gonna cum regardless of what you do, so you’d better answer. Be a good girl like I know you can.”

“Yours!” you cry out finally, sighing when Natasha leans into your line of sight with a brow raised. “It’s yours and Natasha’s.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She slips back into you without warning, and your back arches off the bed as she finally brings you to orgasm. She continues to thrust into you as you whine and squirm away, luckily slowing down and finally stopping as Natasha makes her cum a minute later, leaving the strap inside of her as they both catch their breath. Wanda pulls out of you and sits up to lean against her, holding her hand up between them as they both clean your cum off her fingers with their tongues, and you sit there clenching around nothing as you watch.

“You seem tired,” Natasha comments as her eyes land on you again.

“Too bad we’re not done.”

Wanda flips you onto your stomach with a quick motion of her fingers, using her hands to pull you by the waist until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, and she holds one side of your waist as she delivers a slap to your ass this time. Her touch lingers as she pulls away to free her own strap, and you nearly fall over when you feel the tip of the toy rub against your clit.

“Wait, let me fuck her this time.”

You hear their soft laughter as they switch places, sharing a kiss in the process, and you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck and pulls you up against Natasha’s chest.

“I like having you this close to me, printsessa,” she whispers in your ear, chuckling when you melt against her as she pushes the tip of her strap into you. “How many times do you think I can get you to cum?”

Her grip on your throat is loose as she allows you to adjust to the size, tightening suddenly when she slams into you once, twice, until every thrust is at a rough pace that you wouldn’t be able to handle if she wasn’t holding you against her by the waist. You feel that same tingling circling your clit again, occasionally traveling upward to tease your nipples as well, and it wasn’t long before you were releasing a strangled scream as you climaxed.

Natasha eventually stops thrusting into you as your legs shake, and you breathe out another sigh of relief when she allows you to fall onto the mattress. However, the relief is short-lived when you realize that she only paused to let Wanda push into her from behind, and it wasn’t long before the two of them found a rhythm that was pleasing them and ruining you.

Your wrists are freed as Natasha pulls out of you some minutes later, and you collapse onto one side of the bed with your body aching a bit from a third orgasm, your eyes only halfway open as you watch the pair. They remove the straps from their waists and set them aside, and you become a bit more alert when you notice Natasha grab what seems to be a double-ended dildo.

“No more. I can’t,” you mumble tiredly as your wrists are bound by Wanda’s power again.

“One more, and you can,” she tells you as she flops onto the bed beside you, and that red mist surrounds her fingers again as she guides you onto your knees to hover above her face. “You wanted to cum, so you don’t get to run from this.”

Her hands grab your waist and pull you closer, and you release a shuddering moan as her tongue runs past your hole and over your clit, teasing it a few times with the tip of her tongue before diving in to wrap her lips around it. She alternates between sucking your clit and slipping inside you as Natasha climbs on the bed behind you to position herself with the new toy. 

“Fuck,” Wanda attempts to say once Natasha begins thrusting, and you fall forward as the vibration of her moans become too much, whining when Natasha slides her hands over your breasts and pulls you back up again.

“Take it all like a good girl.”

She keeps pulling until your head drops against her, and she moans against your neck while she kisses and sucks on your skin, bouncing faster on Wanda who groans loudly in response as she attempts to match each thrust. The hums of her voice has you grinding against her tongue, and you yelp when Natasha bites down just as Wanda brings you over the edge. She keeps going despite your protests, managing to get you to cum once more before they finally do.

You lie there with your bones feeling like jelly as you’re covered with a blanket minutes after everyone’s bathroom trip, too tired to even fight for sleeping in your own bed as Natasha and Wanda slide in on either side of you.

“You did so well tonight, detka,” Wanda praises as she strokes your cheek with a loving stare. “I can tell you’ll be a great addition to our relationship. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

“I’m not doing this again,” you insist as the smile fades from her expression. “I’m not getting in a relationship with two women that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I’d prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

“You’re already in a relationship with us, printsessa,” Natasha growls as she shoves you back down when you try to get up, and you push her hand away.

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me want to be with you.”

“It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you have to do.” She grabs your phone from the nightstand, and you’re somehow not even surprised when she unlocks it on the first try. “Because it’d be a shame if someone was to tell Peter about all the nudes you have of him.”

You snatch the phone from her grip, eyes widening as you scroll through your camera roll, finding naked pictures of Peter scattered throughout it. You check the date on the oldest one and began to feel nauseous when you saw it was taken not even a month after the two of you met.

“Don’t think you’ll be deleting those either, because we can replace them and make things worse.” Her smile was falsely sweet and troubling as she grabbed your chin to force you to make eye contact. “We’ve gone this long without having you, and we’ll do whatever it takes not to lose you.”

-

Tags: @cordeliaswhore @egotisticalstoner @muralskins @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @teenwonder @honeyvenable @slut-for-nat

[hyperbali]

Agatha Harkness Was Right, And Here’s Why

Alright. Finally had to sit down and write my way out of this quiet, internal temper tantrum, and a few people were interested in seeing what I had to say, so I present to you:

Agatha Harkness Was Right, And Here’s Why

Disclaimer: MASSIVE spoilers for the entirety of WandaVision, and I am not nice about it.

I’ll start off by saying that, for all its foibles, WandaVision was genuinely a good example of a property within the MCU/Disney umbrella that stepped out of the usual ‘good guys fight bad guys action extravaganza’ in a way that pushed the envelope. The pseudo-horror aspect of the first few episodes is something I would really love to see engaged with on a more thoughtful basis in future projects.

I would say that it proved to be more than a vehicle to promote toys, but… well…

Yeah. Anyway.

I’ll assume that you watched WandaVision if you’re reading this, but quick recap: In the aftermath of ‘the Blip,’ Wanda is left broken and alone with no one in her corner. Her biggest mentor willingly abandoned his team to get his own ‘happy’ ending (do not get me started on Steve, that’s a document in and of itself), her other biggest mentor is probably off enjoying his family while ignoring the incredibly racist killing spree he’s been on for the past five years, and her lover is dead. When she goes to claim the body, she’s told nuh-uh, that’s government property, please leave.

So she goes to a plot of land in the middle of some nowhere town in New Jersey, which Vision apparently bought despite the fact they were living a pretty decently comfortable life in Scotland, where she looks at the deed that Vision drew a heart on and wrote ‘To Grow Old In’. Very sweet. Kind of weird, considering nothing of this caliber had ever been suggested for either of their characters and they’d been actively running from specifically the U.S. authorities? But sweet.

She has a breakdown and, in her grief, contains the entire town of Westview and all 3,892 of the people in it in her own personal paradise, where nothing bad ever happens beyond sitcom hijinks, no one dies, and every problem is tied up and neatly dealt with by the end of an ‘episode’. Except we learn that this is only paradise to Wanda, who apparently shares the aspect of having to relate everything to her favourite pop culture with Tony, because everyone else in Westview is more or less being psychologically tortured by the incredible amount of pain she’s in, forced to be puppeted actors to make her happy.

Bear in mind, Westview might have been bigger at some point - we have no idea how many people survived the Blip, or how many have been brought back to life within the past few weeks of the current setting. Either way, this is a town that has already dealt with a lot of trauma being dragged into yet another awful, much more specific kind of emotional damage, thanks to ‘the heroes’. Nice.

Agatha Harkness, a witch who’s been up to who-knows-what in the 340 years since she drained the coven that tried to kill her for getting a little too ambitious into jerky, feels the massive expenditure of magical power and decides to investigate. All the while, she carefully uses her own magic to try and peek into Wanda’s psyche, her motivations, all while keeping up appearances and not letting slip that anything is amiss.

I’ll point out that she’s no saint here, either - she specifically keeps one Westview resident at her mercy, and knows what’s happening to the rest of them, but doesn’t attempt to stop it. I’ll chalk that up to her pragmatism; their ‘sacrifice’ was fine to her as long as she could figure out how Wanda could have done something so unheard of in terms of power.

What we come to learn over the course of the show is that, given everything that happened, Wanda didn’t mean to take over an entire town and tool it into her own personal slice of heaven. She very quickly became aware of it; we know that she knows it’s her own personal bubble as soon as episode three, when she’s confronting Monica about how the latter could possibly know about Ultron. Wanda is made further aware of how much damage this is inflicting on others in episode five, when Vision himself tells her that these people are scared. But still, she has everything handled! It’s okay! The outside world is worse, trust her!

Her handling of the question, ‘where are all the children of Westview,’ is one that bears some thinking - and, y’know, kind of more than a little concern. They’re allowed to walk around as part of the ‘Halloween special,’ but as Vision walks further and further out towards the edges of town where Wanda doesn’t have as much full control, people are just frozen in place, or conducting the same few seconds of action over and over. And fully aware of being trapped.

How are they being sustained? Eating, sleeping? If someone isn’t part of her storyline, is she just locking them down into a coma? What made Wanda decide that keeping the children ‘out of the way’ was somehow kinder than involving them, especially given her later argument that she’s been trying to keep the entire town safe and happy?

The fact of the matter is, she only actually starts to feel remorse for any of this after she’s confronted with the fact that, after weeks of being at her mercy, the townspeople of Westview would rather be dead than endure another moment of having to play nice for her enjoyment. She finally opens the ‘bubble’ to let them out - which leads to the ‘epic’ finale of three different entities trying to take down Wanda and her happy family: the S.W.O.R.D. military led by Hayward, the White Vision, and Agatha.

Winding back to how we got here: after Agatha uses her own trapped resident, Ralph Bohner (who, given his casting and the props in place during the last episode, I’m willing to bet is actually the missing witness protection person Jimmy was looking for) in an attempt to lure out Wanda’s reasoning - and fails - she’s pretty much done pretending. She tricks Wanda into her basement, nullifies her powers, and makes her face her own past to get to the truth of the matter.

Not going to lie, favourite moment of the show. Kathryn Hahn killed Agatha’s slightly-amused-slightly-irritated observations about Wanda’s coping mechanisms, and the whole arrangement was extremely meta. I would have paid real money dollars to see her do the same thing to the likes of Tony, Strange, and Loki. Hell, even just having her meet the rest of the Avengers? Augh. If wishes were fishes.

When Agatha comes to the conclusion that Wanda is the vaunted, nigh-indestructible force of nature that she’s literally spent her entire life reading about is the ultimate source of chaos magic and will likely bring about the end of the world, she’s pretty understandably taken aback. To that matter, the fact that Wanda… has very little control over any of it, and is using what she does understand to play housemaker? After how long Agatha has spent learning control, hiding in plain sight, just to be child’s play compared to what Wanda has at her fingertips? I’d be pretty pissed off, too!

The way that WandaVision handled both of the major ‘fights’ - Vision versus White Vision ending in philosophy, and Wanda ending up beating Agatha at her own game of deception - is excellent. A little grating that they had to go with the beat down angle before they got there, but this is MCU; punches and thrown cars had to get shoved in somewhere. And, given that this series very much played with the idea of grey morality, I was sort of hopeful that Agatha would end up in a not-quite stalemate arrangement with Wanda. She’s not as powerful as the Scarlet Witch, but she has the know-how that Wanda sorely lacks; in recompense for her own deeds, she would be able to teach what she knows while also kind of scheming on her own time.

Y’know, like what they did with rehabilitating Loki?

Except that Wanda, who has just gone through the entire rigamarole of coming to terms with the fact that she trapped thousands of people into a nightmare scenario against their will, rendering them helpless to her mercy… traps Agatha into a nightmare scenario against her will, rendering her helpless to Wanda’s mercy.

That moment actually shook me. Oh, my god. We’re supposed to still look at Wanda as a good guy after this?

This isn’t even covering the incredibly awful confrontation with her and Vision where she tries to gaslight him into believing that everything is A-OK, or the fact that the person she gets most violent with (apart from Agatha) is Monica Rambeau, a black woman who spends most of the show bending over backwards trying to say that what Wanda is doing is understandable, justified, and just needs a gentle touch to be dealt with.

That could be its own document, too - how Monica, much as she’s incredible and definitely looks to be a really exciting addition to the MCU roster, more or less gets used as the Good One to absolve and enable Wanda’s actions. One of her last lines to Wanda, after seeing how the people of Westview (rightfully) look at Wanda like she’s monstrous, is “they’ll never know what you sacrificed.”

Sacrificed what? The fake husband and fake kids she made out of her own compulsion to pretend that everything is okay? None of that would have existed if she’d been given the proper resources to actually cope with how much loss she’s had to deal with. None of that would have existed if she hadn’t caused this problem in the first place.

In the end, Wanda flies off in her fancy new gear before the FBI shows up, avoiding any real consequences to her actions - which has pretty much been the running theme of her character ever since she was introduced to the MCU in Age of Ultron. The worst kind of direct consequence she’s ever gotten was being grounded to her room for a while, then kept in the Raft for, like, maybe a day - and both times, she was broken out post-haste.

Meanwhile, she worsened the issues in Sokovia (which, I will say upfront, was Tony’s fault to begin with), unleashed the Hulk on Johannesburg, got a pretty significant amount of civilians killed as bystanders in Lagos (hey, how come Wanda keeps turning a lot of black people into casualties?), and stood back in Wakanda to let their people try to fight off Thanos from getting to Vision until it was clear that there was no other option than for her to get involved.

Great Power Comes With No Responsibility At All, Actually.

Wanda, in the several years she has maintained her identity as an Avenger, has proven time and time again that she takes on innumerable risks without any full understanding of what they mean, allows others to take on the brunt of the fallout for her, and looks sad until she’s forgiven and moves on to the next problem. She has no business casually throwing around the kind of power that being the Scarlet Witch entails, not until she’s actually made any kind of headway into making reparations for what she’s done and tried, really tried, to get a handle on what she’s capable of.

Which she’s apparently doing in the last post-credits scene, astral reading the literal Book of the Damned on her lonesome in the mountains, but… without anyone to guide her, or give her any kind of boundary?

[I ran out of images I could post, but you know exactly what image I am referring to here]

Agatha Harkness was right. And that should terrify everybody that has to deal with Wanda in the future.

(P.S. Do we know if she actually even killed that dog? We never see her holding anything but a blanket, and characters go in and out of that show all the time. Granted, she wasn’t great with the cicada-turned-bird... hmm.)

Additional Notes:

“Well, you’re a Tony Stan, of course you think Wanda’s a villain”

I like Tony because he’s such an awful mess, and the narrative isn’t exactly kind about telling him what a piece of shit he can be! He reaped a lot of problems, created practically half the villains in the MCU, and ended up dying a martyred hero. Thanks to being the tent pole by which this franchise hoisted itself into a cultural powerhouse, he will always be their golden savior. If you want to read about how he’s the true villain of this entire affair, feel free to look up any number of takedown pieces about him that are out there. He’s a dick. I will never “uwu sad baby who did nothing wrong ever 🥺” him the way people do about Wanda.

“Why are you so pressed about this”

Because something as good in concept as WandaVision could and should have been about anyone other than the whitewashed, antisemitic take on Wanda Maximoff that MCU brought upon us. They put crucifixes on her wall in Civil War, for fuck’s sake!

“Weren’t you mad about them not including Aaron Taylor-Johnson”

At this point, I am almost kind of relieved the real Pietro wasn’t resurrected for this, because god knows they probably would have killed him all over again just to inflict that much more pain on his sister.

“Anything else you’d like to tell us, turbo nerd”

This was literally itching at me all weekend to write, so it’s more or less just to get it off my chest. If you powered your way through it, uh… thanks? Sorry if I yucked your yums, but I tried to be as clear with the disclaimer as I could. 🤷‍♂️

[awfullyaster]

andrew and neil are switches, don’t you forget it

ok hi here for my (probably) daily aftg rant,,,,so i’m seeing that the majority of the fandom (as far as i’ve seen anyway)--or fics/fanart consisting of andreil doing the do--view neil as a power bottom ?

am i incorrect? are my resources false? idk bout u but so far i’ve only seen like one fic where neil is the top/penetrator (!mao is that even a real word idk but it sounds weird haha cute ok anyway)

and honestly, i have to disagree. i do. i’m not trying to push andrew’s boundaries by saying that neil could top, i’m just saying that y’all don’t give neil enough credit.

liek,,,,,bro,,,,,do you not see the amount of top energy neil mf josten radiates ???? like, yes, we know andrew takes the lead but it doesn’t necessarily mean he’d top forever ?????

( just a proposition, ofc but this is just my opinion based on observations--yet again ) 

( and tbh i had difficulty trying to figure who was the top and who was the bottom between them when i encountered the first hint of intimate growth in their relationship--to the point where i had to ask my best friend who hadn’t a clue what aftg was prior to (that’s when the aftg rants officially started/ignited) and it took some time/proper discussion/consideration but he first came up with the conclusion that andrew was a sub top and that neil was a power bottom )

as for yours truly, i came to the conclusion that they are both switches (some time after i finished reading).

i mean,,,,,,can you really just look at neil josten--wholly, like his entire personality, attitude (problem !), traits, &c and decide on the spot that he’s a bottom ??? how ??? how the hell do you come up with that ?????

and hear me out, i have evidence/reasons:

one) The Great Riko Roast™️. need i say more? 

(if elaboration is necessary:

keep in mind that neil (this literal fucking nobody) burned riko (supposedly the king of exy or whatever the fuck, who cares) to ground on the spot (no script, just his attitude problem (mwah i love him) and pure spite)

again, he burned him to the ground on live television, publicly humiliating riko with each and every word

idk bout u but i am so damn sure andrew found out right then n there that this bitch radiates top energy for fucking sure (or, in his words, isn’t spineless)

neil committing arson via verbal attacks is just---splendid. absolutely mesmerizing. flawless. truly inspiring. gamechanging. glorious. 

he’s so rude i love him

anyway )

two) neil can shut up andrew up without having to touch or kiss him. he can leave him speechless. with just his words. 

(yes, we know anybody & everybody knows better than to touch andrew but like i mean he wouldn’t have to fight him or whatever) (and he doesn’t have to kiss him to shut him up--though he definitely can--he doesn’t have to because that’s just how fucking powerful he is)

y’all,,,,,are you ready for one of the most amazing lines i believe we all know and love,,,,,

““You have a problem wherein you only invest your time and energy into worthless pursuits."

“This,” Neil flicked his finger to indicate the two of them, “isn’t worthless.”

“There is no ‘this’. This is nothing.”

“And I am nothing,” Neil prompted. When Andrew gestured confirmation, Neil said, “And as you’ve always said, you want nothing.”

Andrew stared stone-faced back at him.

[...andrew had his hand frozen mid-air...(i forgot the rest)]”

if this does not prove dominance to you, i don’t know what to tell you. (HE WAS MERELY SPEAKING AND ANDREW COULD NOT COME UP WITH ANYTHING-- A N Y T H I N G --TO SAY BACK BC IT’S A PERSONAL ATTACK AND HE DIDN’T SEE IT COMING AND THAT’S WHY HE SEES NEIL AS INTERESTING/WHY HE ‘HATES’ HIM SO MUCH BRO I)

hOweVeR

i know that dom bottoms exist (i think so, anyway) or bottoms that radiate top energy/the position (i.e. bottom,top) energy you radiate can be entirely different from what position you really are/are comfy with and that these are just words but that brings me to my following point,

three) (#1 insitgator, he, oh yes, neil josten, yes indeed) his unexpected (and to be frank, quite thrilling) acts of asserting dominance ?????? um ????

(when they were kith kithing next to the kitchen (next to kitchen) in neil’s dorm room) “[neil felt his phone buzz in his back pocket and against the wall it was obnoxiously loud. he already knew it was his daily countdown, but he already knew how much little time he had left. he didn’t need to reminded, especially now...andrew took it out of his back pocket and offered it to neil, pulling away from his mouth. neil took the phone from andrew’s hand and threw it across the living room, not taking his eyes off andrew. andrew watched as the phone bounced off the couch and onto the carpet. neil kissed his neck in attempt to distract him and was rewarded by a startled jolt which was enough reason to do it again. and even though andrew pushed his face away, they were close enough for neil to not miss how andrew shivered.]” 

b r o ,,,,,,,,,,,, bro,,,,,,it just--

(when they were alone in the bus otw to that one away game--belmonte, i think?) “[“i wonder when coach found out about this,” neil prompted. 

“there is no ‘this’.”

“i wonder when coach found out you only want to kill me ninety-three percent of the time.”

neil retraced his steps and had a moment of realization. before andrew left for easthaven, neil had told andrew to trust him and not ‘neil’. 

“it was before you left,” neil started... 

“coach doesn’t believe what other people want him to believe, he believes what he sees,” andrew replied...

“are you going to tell them?” neil was referring to the rest of the team, and this was up to him, whether they’ll be out or not. 

“i won’t have to. renee says the upperclassmen are betting on your sexuality.”

neil knew that matt mentioned that there were bets on about him, but he didn’t know it was about this.

“it’s a waste of time and money. they’ll all lose. i’ve said all year that i don’t swing and i meant it. kissing you doesn’t make me look any of them differently. the only one i’m interested in is you.”

“don’t say stupid things.”

“make me.” and with that, neil grabbed a fistful of andrew’s hair and pulled him in.]” 

dude,,,,,,,,,he can take control,,,,,he can,,,,he can lead, too, but he follows andrew’s because he’s a good boy and he knows how important it is. he improvises and uses what he has and takes control from there. dude. dude. 

three) honestly? i think andrew likes it. neil’s unexpected acts of confidence,,,kinda leaves him on the edge of his seat yk,, like doesn’t it increase his percentage? it does, right? cuz ik it did when andrew guided neil to touch his chest and neil emulated andrew’s words, “i won’t be like them. i won’t let you let me be.” (i love them bye) but liek,,,,yeah idk andrew liking neil’s neck kisses/fetish kinda tells me he likes it so maybe this isn’t concrete evidence particularly but i’m still including it because andrew’s a switch, idc what anyone says, 

four) i lost my train of thought but i ran out of reasons--on the spot, anyway--so i might come back to this if i do but just to make it clear:

andrew minyard is a switch. (it just takes time, like a lot, but it doesn’t mean it’s necessarily impossible/never gonna happen.)

neil josten is a switch. (he respects andrew’s boundaries and doesn’t push him, he’s fine being guided, but it doesn’t mean he can’t take the initiative himself (and i forgot to mention it but re: when he asked andrew if he doesn’t like to be touched in general or if it’s a trust thing + many more times, before & after their first kiss, i believe, my brain is just empty rn) and i just think that deserves more recognition)

so !! 

(this post is a mess, (i always am but today’s just worse) i know, and i’m sorry)

in conclusion,

let neil top andrew !! they deserve it !! 

(not that vice versa is bad, but this isn’t either, yk, just saying. also, i hope this isn’t too late to say in the post, but i do not, i repeat, i do not, intend to pressure any content creator--fic writers, fan artists, editors, &c--to create content this particular way only,,,,okay,,,gotta make that unequivocally clear. and i’m not saying andrew topping neil is bad or overrated, because i know that when it comes to them, sex in general would take some time, especially neil topping andrew, but i think they deserve that freedom, yk. again,,,,this is just my personal opinion. no insisting statements here, just wish for freedom to speak my mind, that is all. also feel free to interact if you agree/disagree or both !! i’m willing to hear anyone’s comments or thoughts or whatever !! i hope i’m talking to a brick wall here ahah) 

bro brain poop rn

anyway

tl/dr: bro let neil top (not necessarily on top, but that works, too--either/or--or both, if y’all dare ;DD (kill me) (but like srsly) (let neil top) (plz) :))

(also somewhat off topic but might anyone have access to some fics in which consist of neil first getting andrew off ??? i randomly remember it from ms. sakavic’s extra content page and i would like to see what the fandom offers, if y’all don’t mind)

im so mean and insistent on my aftg-related opinions now that i think about it

whoops

[davidmann95]

Hey David? Why is ours such a cruel and merciless God?

mirrorfalls said: (If you don't know what I'm talking about, your inbox should be filling up with more specific deets riiiiight about now.)

cheerfullynihilistic said: THE SNYDER CUT

Anonymous said: You don’t seem to think Superman’s public rep will take another beating from the Snyder Cut coming out. Honestly I thought you’d be way more upset than you seemed on Twitter.

Anonymous said: So uhh, against all thoughts and logic the Snyder cut is being released? Maybe as a mini series? Thoughts?

Anonymous said: SNYDER CUT!

Bullies. Jocks. Guys angrily asking if we know who their father is. Assorted dudebro nerd-oppressors of America:

You have failed us. You have failed us so hard. What else do we even keep you around for if not to head this shit off at the pass? Shame on you.

Okay, so seriously: I’m actually gonna put most bitching and moaning under a cut, because I know firsthand there are as many as several non-slavering maniacs out there who dug Man of Steel and Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice and who are simply and entirely reasonably excited that they’re getting this movie after all. I don’t feel like throwing a wall of text at them shitting all over this, so I’ll lead off with I think some fairly even-handed commentary on the real-world circumstances here, rambling speculation regarding the production, and some cautious optimism about the actual movie/s. THEN I’ll get to what I imagine most of you are here to see.

So totally in a vacuum: this is a cool, good thing. I’m the notorious theatrical Justice League-liker, but at best it was a compromised product due to the original creator - who like it or not clearly had an incredibly ambitious personal vision for these characters and their world - suffering a horrific tragedy forcing him off the project, and leaving his final stamp on blockbuster culture and a world he’d devoted years of his life to a flop with his name on it when he couldn’t even truly call it his own anymore. At worst, said tragedy was taken advantage of by suits to ditch him in the home stretch so as to try and shove out something ostensibly more marketable. But now because of a...very loyal fanbase, the man’s getting the opportunity and resources to rise like a phoenix and see at least some of his vision through in a huge way. That’s pretty remarkable.

Not in a vacuum this is fucking horrifying. I’ve already seen folks poo-poohing the reflexive fears that this will ‘set a precedent’, and they were right enough that I deleted my initial tweet on the subject because I didn’t think I could express my own opinion with any nuance in the space of 280 characters. Yeah, nerd whining definitely shaped Rise of Skywalker (another movie I enjoyed in spite of the circumstances of its creation). Hell, Sonic the Hedgehog crunched its CGI team prior to unceremoniously firing them to redesign his model thanks to outcry. That’s already a market force, and just to be clear upfront, if we can’t agree the predominant mode of operation for #ReleaseTheSnyderCut has been a toxic nerd harassment campaign when they spammed posts memorializing deceased actors and chased Diane Nelson off Twitter, we’re not gonna be able to have this conversation. And director’s cuts are you may have noticed also already a thing. But this isn’t changing direction on a project that’s already going to exist no matter what, this is turning back 3 years later on a commercial flop and dumping tens of millions of dollars into it, explicitly in response to that harassment campaign. It’s not *actually* going back and, say, remaking The Last Jedi, but by god to the naked eye it’s gonna be as good as for plenty of fanboys, and probably to some shortsighted execs as well. This is a new thing, and in this context it is a very, very bad one. Hopefully one that won’t amount to anything.

As for the movie itself: what the hell is this thing going to end up being? I assume with this sort of cashola being pumped into it we’re not getting any slapdash greenscreen or storyboarded sequences, but four hours? Is it really just going to be an expanded and revised version of what we saw in theaters, or is this including content that would have been in the originally planned Justice Leagues 2 and 3? My understanding is that those were already compressed into a single Justice League 2 before plans collapsed altogether, were they maybe filming side-by-side and this’ll be the whole shebang? If not is Snyder going to hedge his bets and end this on a clean note, or keep it ending on a cliffhanger in hopes HBO will throw another $250 million his way to keep going? Does DC want to keep going? Would they give into fan pressure on releasing after all what was widely publicized as the first film of a duology or trilogy with dangling threads if they weren’t going to be at least watching the numbers to see the feasibility of returning to this in a bigger way? Not that I think WB execs would piss into Snyder’s mouth if he were dying of thirst at this point if he simply asked to be able to do Justice League 2, but if he floated that if they instead just give him a liiiiiiiitle more money he can finally deliver unto them their very own Avengers - one that they can work on even during quarantine since it’s mostly just VFX work left - and hey if it works out he’s got a sequel or two cued up and ready to go? Maybe they look at their scattered plans and say the hell with it and end up giving this a theatrical release and sequel with Snyder holding the reigns again if this ends up a killer app; stranger things have happened, if not many, and somehow this is already happening in the first place after all. Alternatively, if this succeeds, could they go “thanks and good on ya, totally do another, but it’s gonna be an HBO exclusive so you’re only getting a hundred million, figure it out”? Would Ben Affleck return? How much reshooting will he be willing to commit to even for this? And most importantly, since this is potentially going to be serialized as six ‘episodes’, will We Got This Covered count this as another ‘win’ since their bullshit rumor mill algorithm spit out “Justice League HBO TV show” recently?

As for the project itself: I ain’t subscribing to HBOMax for this bad boy, but once it becomes more widely available I can’t claim I won’t probably watch it. It’s basically a new movie about the Justice League, and if there’s anything I WOULD wanna see Zack Snyder do in the DCU, it’s the movie finally moving past pseudo-realism (aside from some of those dopey costumes) and leaning all the way into godlike superbeings bludgeoning each other through continents. I absolutely wanna see his aesthetic take on the Green Lantern Corps, and New Genesis, and time travel, and all the other weird promises of where his movies were going to go climaxing in a ridiculous super-war across all spacetime. It’s the same reason J.G. Jones was an exciting choice for Final Crisis before he had to leave, seeing a guy known for his work in an ultra-real grungy superhero style starting there and building up to seeing his version of absolutely wild cosmic spectacle. And no, to respond to one of the initial asks, I’m not worried about the impact on Superman. Everyone seems to have accepted this is its own distinct thing whether they like it or not, I think him getting to complete his ‘arc’ will quiet down many of the folks who like to yell at every other version as retro nonsense since now they’ll be able to be smug about having had the best take rather than pining for a lost finale, and I’m not interested in further Superman movies at the moment anyway with Superman & Lois in the pipe (which I was originally paranoid would be endangered by this when rumors first started floating, but if it’s been brewing since November then if they wanted to strike that down to ‘make room’ according to their Byzantine ever-shifting rules, they would have by now). Far as I’m concerned, as long as the other DC movies get to keep doing what they’re doing during and past this - even Pattinson in his corner, however that works - then totally let Snyder work out all his Wagnerian superhero bullshit for another flick or two. If nothing else, maybe we’ll learn what the hell that diagram up there is supposed to mean. And a plea I want to clarify upfront is wholeheartedly sincere: we’re already down the rabbit hole, so let Snyder to literally whatever he wants with his non-theatrically released Justice League. Zero input or veto power from outside parties. If he wants Flash to hang dong or Superman to say fuck or Batman to learn he’s Steppenwolf’s secret dad or Cyborg to learn he needs to eat babies to fuel his machine parts, let him go for it. Whole point is this is now his thing for people who want his thing.

Okay, beneath the cut the filter comes off, so go ahead if that’s your jam.

Hahahahahahaha this is gonna be such a fuckin’ shitshow you guys, Jesus Christ.

They’re giving the dude who did BvS and wants to make an Ayn Rand adaptation someday $30 million to take another crack at this monstrosity! 30 goddamn million smackaroos for four fucking hours of by many accounts roughly the same basic movie, except now presumably with what little coherency, fun, and clean character work the theatrical cut managed to pull off excised in return for weighty staring, ponderous pseudo-philosophical musings, hackneyed symbolism, aimless mythology teasing, and Steppenwolf I understand being decapitated by Wonder Woman at the end rather than taken back to Apokolips. I didn’t even spoiler mark that shit because don’t you dare pretend you care about the fate of Steppenwolf. I won’t have it.

I used to wonder if I was indeed missing the forest for the trees with these movies, that I was so inflexible in my personal image of these characters - even though I appreciate plenty of alternate takes on them and even some stories that bend or break what I consider their ‘rules’, just not these - that I was incapable of grasping or appreciating these films on their own merits as works of art using those archetypes in wildly different ways; even I could see there were good moments and interesting ideas on display despite seemingly failing to come together. No matter how much I personally deconstructed how and why it wasn’t working, I couldn’t do it to my own satisfaction to the point of stamping out that niggling little worry with how many folks whose opinions I respect love ‘em. Until I finally remembered that the Cadmus arc of Justice League Unlimited is totally the same basic story as BvS, centrally driven by an even worse take on Superman, and that’s still one of the best superhero stories of all time. These just stink by any merits, and while I think Justice League absolutely has the potential to be the most *entertaining* of the bunch, it’s not going to magically become *good* in the eleventh hour. Not to lift up Joss Whedon of all people as some kind of savior, I’m on the record that my love for Justice League as-is is some kind of inexplicable alchemical accident, but I promise that there is not going to be one single addition to this movie that’s going to make up for the removal of “Just save one person”.

Also I’m already not looking forward to dudes tweeting “whoa, he’s splitting it up into a serialized narrative, reflective of the sequential nature of the characters’ primitive native pictorial medium! Or mayhap in ode to the pulp film adventure serials which inspired those in turn! Even the Justice League children’s cartoon for dumb babies, which was itself...made up of episodes! That’s three references in the structure of the thing alone! The man’s operating on an entirely different level!” “God, isn’t it amazing how much better he understands the source material than you”, they shall say, about a man who I understand just very confidently referred to Doomsday in his livestream as having destroyed Krypton in the comics. Again, don’t you say they won’t, just the other day I saw folks tweeting they just realized that since Jor-El wears armor over his bodysuit that technically means Superman’s whole costume is underwear which means Snyder’s totally honoring that without putting him in ugly dumb red panties so checkmate, dorks.

(Okay, in fairness, I know Snyder was saying that’s his take on what happened to the moon in the past of the movies and maybe I only misheard that he thought that also happened in the comics, and it’s trivial information anyway. Still sucks though, that seeming out-of-nowhere Jax-Ur shoutout was like the one thing I liked about that otherwise interminable Krypton sequence. And why is there a second Doomsday? You did Death of Superman already!)

And further SPOILER thoughts below on the reported plots of 2 and 3:

It’s also an amazing, perfect sort of narrative synchronicity that the hypocrisy of Man of Steel in presenting Superman as a savior would (will?) be matched by the movies also rejecting that promise long-term. In there, Jor-El’s musings on the capacity of every living thing being capable of good, the closest the film has to a singular moral statement, are proven wrong when Zod has to be put down like a mad dog, and rather than the one who’ll bring us into the sun, Kal-El’s presence draws ruin from beyond the stars to our world. And again in BvS with Doomsday. And again in Justice League 1-3, where in spite of claims by Snydercutters that it’s okay for Superman to be a really lousy take on Superman because it’s totally supposed to take several movies after putting on the costume and calling himself Superman, including his own death and resurrection, for him to really, like, become Superman, man, he remains a liability to the end. His death lures in Steppenwolf, the Kryponian matrix in his genes is Darkseid’s goal, he becomes the villain of the first act of Justice League 3 - possibly of his own free will depending on which version you’ve heard about - and at the final showdown, it’s Batman who sacrifices himself to stop Darkseid and save the world and inspire the rise of superheroism, because Batman, you see, rules, whereas Superman, stay with me here, drools. A letdown given BvS was just about the one major story of the last 30 years to unambiguously conclude Superman is better than Batman, but not a shocker. None of what I understand goes down in these - iconography from the likes of Fourth World, Crisis on Infinite Earths, Death and Return of Superman, Rock of Ages, Final Crisis, and Injustice reused but stripped of all context and thematic weight that gives it meaning (even Injustice is built on the premise of having a ‘good’ Superman to contrast the dictator); Lois being the ‘key’ because of her connections to two men, one she married and one she bears; time travel that even by the very generous suspension of disbelief applied to it in a genre like this operates by two obviously completely different sets of rules in its only two uses, and is then used to write the entire second movie of the trilogy out of continuity in the first act of the third, making one and a half of these movies pointless - is shocking. It’s just more empty notions and unfulfilled promises offered up to a fanbase staking everything on the idea that all the tampering, all the wild swings, all the meandering, it’s all building UP to something, not possibly just a dude who doesn’t understand these characters but wanting to look very clever with them before building up to one more rad punch-up. So yes, make these movies. Let what can be gleaned from them as worthwhile be revealed, leave the rest of it up for examination to be judged as it deserves and let it, finally. Finally. Be done.

[jackawful]

Look I've voted in every major election and every midterm and every state primary I've been eligible for. On top of that, those votes have been in an agressively conservative area for most of my life - one where we would celebrate when the democratic candidate got over 40% of the vote as opposed to 30-something.

This is where I am coming from when I say that I'm seeing a lot of people in the Vote Blue No Matter Who crowd really, really not understand anti-electoralism on the left.

So, you've got the concept that how much your vote matters depends on where you live. You remember how the electoral college screwed us over in 2016, how we won the popular vote but not the election. What you might not get: this happened before, with George W. Bush, in 2000. By 2004, he had the rally-round-the-flag effect on his side because of 9/11 and the war. Leftists, even moreso than liberals, especially older leftists who were on the left pre-Bernie, tend to see issues as systemic AND remember this shit.

You have to put these puzzle pieces together.

I know you're worried because Russian interference & cambridge analytica bullshit contributed to the map last election. I get it. What you have to get: those campaigns were highly geo-targeted at moderates in certain swing states. The leftists who are skeptical of voting right now? I'd be willing to bet a very large sum of real money on them mostly not being the same people, in the same places, as those who were targeted by last cycle's electioneering.

Voting Harder Than The Right is an individualistic solution to a systemic problem (the electoral college & gerrymandering), and it did not work in 2016. It didn't work in 2000. So a lot of leftists look at this and say "fine, I'll vote but I won't be happy about it" and a lot of them say "fuck it" and a LOT of them would rather spend their time & energy & voice pushing toward action that targets the systemic issues, rather than pushing others to vote in an electoral system that has repeatedly betrayed them. A lot of them are very, very frustrated with you because they don't feel like they're being heard when they bring up the systemic issues they're worried about.

What Vote Blue No Matter Who is coming off as? What it sounds similar to when you're hearing it on the left? It sounds like "just get a better job" or "if you hate America so much you can leave" or any number of other individualistic bootstrap-pulling bullshit the left hears from conservatives all the time. More importantly, it sounds like you're blaming them for the loss in 2016 when that loss was squarely the fault of the system, not individuals.

A lot of this was prompted by a post that boiled down to "if you criticize Biden/Harris you have to include a disclaimer telling people to vote for them anyway" and I'd like to turn that around: if you want to push leftists specifically to vote for Biden/Harris, you have to include a disclaimer about how having the majority of the popular vote doesn't matter & listing competitive electoral college states. Because otherwise? You're just gonna make people mad & further distance them from your opinions.

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Ties in Blood -- Chapter 27

Warning: There is cutting/suicide here. 

Here’s Aaliyah dealing with the dream fallout and coming back around. Kushiel’s Legacy is indeed a book series by Jacqueline Carey, and an awesome set of books that’s a twist on historical fiction. If you check it out, start with Kushiel’s Dart.

@mrswhozeewhatsis​ @percussiongirl2017​ @impala-dreamer​ @winchestergirl-13 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @squirrelnotsam @optimisticpeacecollector5

Chapter 27

Aaliyah slipped into the guest room that Pris had set up for her and closed the door. There had been too much that Aaliyah couldn’t let go unnoticed. With the drops of information from her siblings about her being in a tv show, Aaliyah wanted to check it out. Starting what appeared to be her laptop up, Aaliyah dug through her bag and pulled out a change of clothes. After the long trail ride and tending to the horses, she wanted a shower. Luck had been on her side when the laptop started up without the use of a password. She squinted her eyes at the results that popped up from putting her name into the search bar.

Her name pulled up her page on the database for movies and television shows, news articles about her and what she’s done in ways of giving back to the community and charity work. Most of the charity work focused on those who lived below the poverty line and barely made anything. That didn’t seem so bad. It had touched home for her childhood. Her eye caught the headline of an article that had been posted the day before she arrived at the house.

‘Kushiel’s Legacy’ Seeps into the Real Life

Aaliyah clicked on the link and scanned the article that broke the news that she had been caught having relations with one of the directors of the television show she was a regular on. The article went on with information from an unnamed person who worked on the show telling the news outlet how Aaliyah and the director had been seen to be a bit too close during times on set and would go out after the day’s shooting was done. Even showed up to set the next day as if they spent the night together.

She closed the laptop without closing the window, seeing enough of what her pretend life was like. It sounded like a good life if it hadn’t been for the outside relations the article spoke about. Aaliyah grabbed her clean clothes and headed for the nearest bathroom for a shower. Voices drifted down the hall from the dining area. She would have ignored them if her name hadn’t been said. She crept down and hid in the shadows against the hall.

“I’m surprised she had the nerve to show up with all the stuff that’s going on,” Leo said. “I mean, doesn’t she know what she does reflects on us, right?”

“Not like she has enough … fun while shooting some parts of the show,” Xander added.

“You try having actual adult moments with a bunch of people hanging around watching,” Nissa said in Aaliyah’s defense. “Besides, the guys have this … sling thing that keep ‘em down for those times.”

“Still, she had to be caught like that,” Leo circled back around. “Do any of you think she had enough smarts to not do it?”

“Who said she actually did any of it? We haven’t heard her say anything about it.”

“She could be trying to avoid it,” Xander suggested. “I’m not saying she did or didn’t do what TMZ or other celebrity news are reporting. We all know Aaliyah’s been the one who had to grow up when our mother died.”

That was true enough. Aaliyah had to lie about her age a little in order to gain a job while in junior high. Xander told her not to do it.

“She did have a tough time when we all started living together,” Nissa commented.

“Who’s side are you taking here, sis?” Leo asked.

“Think about it.”

Aaliyah heard footsteps in the kitchen; Nissa walked somewhere.

“Put us in their position,” Nissa continued. “And you had to do what Aaliyah did? Then mom married another man and we social climbed. Then you didn’t have to struggle to save money for food or thrift store clothes. Or help pay bills.”

Aaliyah didn’t hear anyone speak after that. It was her cue to slip back down the hall for the bathroom and start up the shower. It was the perfect dream life; a family, one or both parents living, and a stable job. Hearing her siblings sitting around discussing something she hadn’t done wasn’t part of that dream.

She closed the door behind her and locked it before dumping her clean clothes into the sink. Once she had the water running, Aaliyah put her hands on the sink and put her weight on them. Her breath shook before she looked into the mirror. A green and blue eye scanned her sun kissed skin. No scars or any sort of mares that she had gained from the years of hunting. Aaliyah pulled her shirt off and moved to look at the spot where the hand print should have been from the Djinn. It wasn’t there. Nothing added up.

“Help me,” a disembodied voice echoed in the bathroom.

Jerking at the sound, Aaliyah looked around to find no one was there with her. None of her siblings would have thought to pull the “hide a speaker in the bathroom” prank. Out of the corner of her eye, the mirror reflected the image of the guy in the coma at the assisted living place. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at the image. Sleep had been short the past few days, but Aaliyah swore she had enough to not be hallucinating things.

“Aaliyah?” Nissa’s voice was muffled by the door. “Is it okay I come in?”

She shook her head free of the image. “Yeah.” Aaliyah worked off her pants when Nissa entered and closed the door.

“Are you sure you wanna go back next week?” Nissa asked. “I mean…”

“Do I really wanna face all the criticism and backlash of whatever someone claimed I did?” Aaliyah tossed the last piece of clothing into the dirty pile and stepped into the shower. “The news broke Thursday, sis. Unless the higher ups at the network decide to pull the show before the season finale, I’m sure nothing serious has been decided.”

Aaliyah heard Nissa lower the toilet lid and saw her shadow sit through the decorative shower curtain.

“We’re just worried,” her sister said. “I mean, we’re not exactly cut off from the world here.”

Aaliyah paused in working the shampoo through her hair. “You’re worried that the rumor of what may or may not have happened will make everyone look bad.” Not that she could really blame them. “Whatever people are claiming isn’t true. Any bet it was someone who had gone for the role I got but got a lesser role in the deal. And this is their way of trying to get back at me.”

She rinsed out the shampoo with the thought that Nissa would be able to see right through the lie. Conditioner was worked through and left while Aaliyah grabbed the body wash and a washcloth.

“You’ve been here most of the day, and not once brought up the matter,” Nissa said. “We can help.”

“Not sure how much help you all will be.” Aaliyah worked the lathered cloth over her body. “I gotta handle it on my own.”

“Or … you could just stay here. There’s a few job openings at the local theatre.”

Aaliyah stopped mid leg, thrown off by the comment. It sounded like her sister made the suggestion that she quit the show and get involved in the local theatre. Why would she do that?

“Anyway,” Nissa broke into Aaliyah’s thoughts. “We’re gonna be leaving in about an hour for dinner. Thought you’d wanna know.”

Part of Aaliyah wanted to dismiss what Nissa said out of hand. It was the perfect life. Being one of a handful of rising stars, being a lead on a television series based on a book series too good for movies, and all the charity work. Aaliyah couldn’t imagine much else. Something had to be tossed in for a twist; the article. There had to be that one thing to be the wrench in the plans. Rinsing out the conditioner and the body wash, Aaliyah turned the water off and stepped out of the tub.

***

Aaliyah slid her chair under her as she sat at the table. The others were settling in as the host assured that their waiter would see to them shortly. She adjusted her shirt a little before reaching for the glass of water. Her eyes shifted around the full dining room, low conversations at each table and the wait staff moving about like a well-oiled machine. The light was high enough to be able to read the menu and see her siblings and step mother at the table, but not those at the nearby tables.

“You all enjoy your ride this afternoon?” Pris asked, putting her own glass down.

Aaliyah nodded along with her siblings. It had been a relatively uneventful ride that she would have missed in the city. If she had experienced the life everyone else remembered. Her siblings ordered their choice of wine when the waiter came by. Aaliyah glanced at the wine list before spotting the section for other alcoholic drinks.

“I’ll have … a Long Island, please,” Aaliyah ordered, ignoring the barely contained glares from her family.

“Was that necessary?” Pris asked when the waiter walked away. “A Long Island, come now, Aaliyah. How old are you?”

“I believe…” Aaliyah laid the alcohol menu down as she worked to keep her voice low and level. “That I am old enough to make that effect my life without the judgmental looks from my family.”

“Mom, can you not?” Nissa asked, her voice low. “Not here. Please?”

“Why not here? It’s as good as any.”

“Because we don’t want any more attention,” Xander countered.

Aaliyah caught his glance around to the nearby tables to see a few of the people giving sideway looks at them. “They’re right, Pris. Not here. I’m willing to talk…”

“Then talk.”

Aaliyah pulled herself up straight at the raised voice that pulled more looks from the other tables. “I will not here.” A finger teased at the folded cloth napkin, exposing the steak knife. “Do you not think for one second that I would know better than to get involve with a director?” Two fingers continued to work at the napkin, freeing the knife. “I have better morals than you give me credit for, Priscilla. Do not lump me in with a portion of the Hollywood stars that view sleeping with higher ups is a good way to get better roles.”

She watched Pris stare her down from across the table, her fingers subtle movements touched on the knife handle and slid it back within her grasp. Aaliyah caught the anger that seethed just under the surface of her step mother, wanting to lash out at her.

“I knew taking you and Xander in was a mistake,” Pris said with a shake of her head. “This whole dinner was a mistake.”

Aaliyah caught movement behind Pris as she stood. It was the same guy from the assisted living building. He lifted one arm and traced a finger from wrist to crook of the elbow. Was it that simple to escape? It couldn’t be.

“Mom, just wait and listen,” Leo protested, his voice pulled Aaliyah back. “This wasn’t a mistake.”

Aaliyah looked down to the knife in her hand as her siblings worked to keep Pris at the table and not cause the scene to disturb the other diners. It was the knife or break a glass for a shard. The short blade was cool to the touch when she put it against her wrist. With a deep breath, Aaliyah closed her eyes and pressed the knife tip into her wrist. A trickle of warmth pooled at the point before rolling down the side. She mentally counted to three before sliding the blade up her arm. The hushed argument of her family continued at the table. Aaliyah opened her eyes to see them leaning over the table, unconcerned of what she had done. She put the knife in her other hand, blood seeping from the cut, and made the same cut on the other arm.

Her sight started to blur when Nissa turned to face her; someone from another table had seen the blood on Aaliyah. A voice urged Nissa to leave the table, that the mess wasn’t their problem. Aaliyah assumed it was Pris. Leave it to an imaginary step mother to just up and leave like Casey did. Aaliyah slumped forward onto to the table, her arms dangling at her sides. The knife eventually slipped from her loose hold onto the floor.

“Aaliyah, wake up,” Nissa pled, her voice distant. “Come on, sis. Not now.”

The more Nissa pled, Aaliyah swore that her voice grew closer. As if …

**

Aaliyah shot up gasping for breath. Someone gave a sigh of relief. She sat there on the bed, allowing her breathing to return to normal. A movement at her side brought her attention to Nissa; behind her was Leo tending to the recently deceased Djinn. Aaliyah moved an arm in an effort to stretch and saw IV lines attached to her.

“We thought we lost you for a second there,” Nissa said, working on removing the lines. “It was something we weren’t looking forward to with Xander and your friends.”

Aaliyah narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Friends?”

“Yeah. The one said his name was Plant. He and his FBI partner …”

Aaliyah huffed in amusement. “That’s Dean and Sam. How’d you forget about them?”

“FBI, remember?” Nissa pulled the last line free. “There, all good. How the hell did you get caught?”

Aaliyah rubbed the spots where the needles had been and shrugged. “I don’t know. Low point, maybe. How long was I missing?”

“A few hours. At first we thought you were on to something and didn’t wanna lose the trail.” Nissa shifted on the bed. “But when you didn’t come back … Something was wrong. We went through your journal and found the entry about the Djinn. Do you know how hard it is to find a silver blade and lambs blood in the middle of winter?”

Aaliyah’s head bobbed a little. “It’s tough finding them anywhere. So, you took it out with a blow to the head?”

“One of the best ways with any monster. Come on, I’m sure the others are worried.”

Aaliyah accepted the offered hand up off the bed and stepped over the blood stain. She followed after Nissa back to Xander’s room, smiling every time her sister looked back over her shoulder. She couldn’t blame Nissa for the constant reassurance that she was still there after the Djinn attack. A hand rubbed the spot that sported the double hand print of two Djinn as she walked into Xander’s room.

“Damn it, Liyra,” he cursed when she walked in. “Nearly gave us all a heart attack.”

“Love you too, Jerk face,” she shot back. “Nissa said Sam and Dean were here.”

“Yeah, but they headed off for another case once they were satisfied Nissa and Leo had the Djinn handled.”

Aaliyah nodded, the odd sense of relief washed over her. Part of her hadn’t been ready to see Dean again, but another wanted to make sure she wasn’t dreaming again.

“Tell you what, sis,” Xander broke into her thoughts. “Why don’t we all have a movie night? I’m sure there’s gotta be a store open that’s got some movies or something.”

She chuckled. “I doubt it, but I’ll look into it.” She moved over to Xander and kissed his cheek before ducking out.

In her path to the reception desk, Aaliyah heard a whistle low enough to blend into the background noise. Glancing around, she spotted Leo who gave her a nod. The Djinn had been disposed of quietly somewhere no one would find it easily.

“May I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“I know most places might be closed,” Aaliyah started. “But do you know if any movie places and stores would be open?”

“There’s the movie store down the street open until 3pm,” the receptionist answered. “And the dollar store closes at 4pm.”

“Thank you.” Aaliyah aimed back for Xander’s room.

[lisatelramor]

Ok, this wants to be something longer and if I manage to write more and finish what it wants to be, I’ll post it on AO3. In the meantime, this is for Natsume Yuujinchou week’s Youkai and humans/ species swap. So basically I took characters and Nyanko-sensei’s our protagonist as human along with Takashi as ayakashi. Not proof read, I just wanted to post SOMETHING for Natsuyuu week and this was as much as I could get done by today ^_^;;

Madara groaned as the train came to a stop at the station. Despite napping most of the way there, his hangover was just as strong as it had been that morning, leaving him with a pounding head and a vague nausea upsetting his gut. It had been a hell of a way to get kicked out of an apartment, but that’s why he’d been drinking in the first place. He told himself he wasn’t going to come back to this middle of nowhere town, but here he was, a decade and a half after leaving.

He left with just a suitcase full of clothes and a couple hundred yen in his pocket. He was coming back with even less, so what did that say about his life?

There was an ayakashi in the train station, lurking in the corner. The people coming and going avoided the spot on instinct leaving a meter of space around it in all directions. Madara avoided looking directly at it. Wasn’t his problem. Hell, it could start throwing the trash can and it still wouldn’t be his problem. He didn’t give a damn so long as it wasn’t trying to eat him.

Humid summer air hit like a brick after the air conditioned rail car. With it came the smell of green things and the stink of too many sweaty bodies crowded onto a train platform. He hadn’t missed this. Well, he corrected once he’d dragged his suitcase with him in a shortcut through the woods, he hadn’t missed it too much. There was a great big wide world out there and Madara had gone out and experienced it. There was so much more than a rural town full of backwards hicks that threw sticks and stones with their hurtful words.

He’d only stayed as long as he had back then because, well, he’d stayed that long because of reasons and those reasons hadn’t been there anymore.

He’d forgotten how many ayakashi were in the country though. Floating amid the tree branches. Hiding in underbrush. Lurking with teeth in the dark crevice of a rotted out tree trunk. When he was younger, it had been a problem. Now? Now Madara couldn’t give two shits. So long as he didn’t look and he kept a firm grasp on his powers, nothing would notice him and he could pretend he didn’t notice them, just like how it was supposed to be.

“Years,” Madara muttered, climbing out of a bush back onto a main road. “Years and this place looks exactly the same.” There was the post office. There was the road to the school. There was the house of that older lady that used to chase him off her lawn for picking persimmons she’d let rot on the tree. The green fruit were a long way off from being ripe right now, but Madara was willing to bet they’d still be rotting on the tree come November.

And speaking of things that hadn’t changed, the bar at the end of the street looked exactly how he remembered it, down to the hairline crack in one of the windowpanes and Hinoe’s precise handwriting on the signboard showing the daily specials.

Madara headed for the bar. He was making terrible life choices these days, why not make another?

It was dim inside, even though it was the middle of the damn day, because Hinoe’s bar had the atmosphere of a noir film with half the class. There were a couple people scattered in the corners of the room drinking their sad, pathetic lives away with whatever swill Hinoe served to the day-drinkers and perpetually drunk. Or maybe she’d changed that policy over the years. He kind of doubted that.

Hinoe was at the bar, idly flipping through a magazine and smoking a cigarette. The smoking was new. The magazine full of attractive women was not. Madara sat down at the bar, suitcase thumping against his legs, like it was a normal Tuesday afternoon and it hadn’t been over a decade since he’d stepped into her business. “Hey.”

Ash fell from the tip of the cigarette into an overloaded ashtray as Hinoe looked up. “Huh, well look what last night’s storm drug in. Madara. Long time no see. You look like hell.”

“You look the same as ever.” The same long hair tied up in a bun. The same too-dark makeup. The same bastardized kimono-style top with the sleeves tied back by some brightly patterned strip of cloth. If there weren’t deeper crow’s feet around her eyes, he could almost pretend he’d never left at all.

“I’m immortal, didn’t you know?” Hinoe said, grinning. “I thought you were never coming back. It’s been, what, ten years?”

“Fifteen,” Madara grunted.

“Right, right. I remember you saying something about leaving us losers all behind and finding your true greatness or some shit. Or was it that you’d prove that greatness to the world? How’d that go for you?” By her sly smile, she knew exactly how it went. He wouldn’t be here if his plans went the way they were supposed to and they both knew that.

“I went, I saw the world, the world witnessed me,” Madara said haughtily. “It couldn’t take my greatness so I magnanimously decided to return to share my glory with all of you again.”

“Uh huh. What’s the real story?”

“I went out into the world. The world wasn’t ready for my amazing person. So the world kicked my ass and now I’m living out of a suitcase.”

Hinoe blew a smoke ring. “Wow. Sucks to be you like usual.”

Madara sneered at her. She grinned back. She was a sad excuse for an almost friend and he definitely hadn’t missed her at all. “Speaking of living; my family home still there?”

“That piece of crap?” Hinoe raised an eyebrow. “The roof of that place collapsed two years back and the neighborhood health and safety group decided to tear it down. Since no one had lived there in over a decade anyway. Which, by the way, means the city reclaimed the land since no one was paying taxes for it.”

“They can do that?” Well shit, there went the last place he had to go. “Guess I really am living out of a suitcase now.” And he still had a hangover. Maybe he could get a pity drink from Hinoe. Hair of dog and all that. “Don’t suppose you’d lend a man a couch?”

“I don’t invite men over,” Hinoe said in the tone of voice that said she’d rather scrape gum off the bottom of all her tables than let Madara stay in her living room.

Harsh. “Right, you only invite pretty girls over,” Madara said, a cheap shot. Hinoe, being impervious to that sort of thing, flipped another page of her magazine. Madara scowled at the scuffed up bar top for a few conflicted moments. Thinking of Hinoe and pretty girls made him think of one thing. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know if he was going to be in this town for a while. (Okay, he did want to know. He’d thought about it a lot over the years.) “And speaking of pretty girls,” he ground out, “how’s Reiko doing?”

Hinoe gave him a long, hard look before stabbing her burnt-out cigarette into the ashtray. “I don’t know, Madara. Haven’t seen her longer than I haven’t seen you. Not since you two got into a fight.”

“Not at all?” he asked. The semi-permanent scowl he’d had on his face since he got off the train turned to an expression of surprise. Reiko had run off on him after their fight, but Madara figured she was just mad at him. And when a month went by without her popping back up, he figured he’d finally run her off like everyone else, and left her in the dust with the whole shitty town. Reiko’d been the only reason to stick around and without her why keep trying in a place that hated you?

“Nope. No one’s seen her since then. Not even the poor souls she used to terrorize. I was pretty damn mad about it back then too. You somehow managed to scare the most perfect beauty out of town, you inconsiderate ass. She was a shining brightness on humanity!” Hinoe glared at him. Apparently she still was infatuated with Reiko even after all the years.

On humanity, Madara thought wryly. If Hinoe only knew. “I didn’t know she left for good. I thought she was just mad at me and ran off.” A mix of old anger and sadness filled him, along with a newer mix of relief and disappointment. Part of him hoped that he’d see her again. Part of him was terrified of if he did. Part of him still missed her terribly, but he would never admit that out loud, let alone to Hinoe.

“Well she ran off just as much as you it seems since no one has seen hide or hair of her since.”

“Huh.” This town had been her place for years. Why would she leave permanently? But then again, who knew what went on in the minds of spirits? She probably left on purpose just to mess with all of them one more time. The thought was a bitter one and his scowl came back even deeper than before. “Probably better that way.”

“For you or everyone else?” Hinoe asked.

Madara ignored the question. “Hey, Hinoe, you wouldn’t happen to have anything I could drink, would you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. What could I possibly have to drink at a bar?” Hinoe said with heavy sarcasm. “I don’t give out free booze, Madara so either cough up some money or you can have a glass of water.”

“Not even for old times? I’m broke and homeless.”

“Then wanting to get drunk is the least of your problems.” She set a glass of tap water in front of him.

Madara gave her sad eyes. She slid the glass a few centimeters forward. He took it and drank some because at least it would help some with the hangover. “You’re heartless, Hinoe.”

“Uh huh. Sure am. So heartless that I’ll even tell you old man Misuzu’s looking for help at the shrine. Since you’ll be needing a job.”

“I’d starve before I work for a priest,” Madara said, knocking back the water. “If you know of anyone else needing a hand, let me know, but you know Misuzu and I don’t get along.”

“That’s all on you.”

“Tell that to Misuzu.” No home, no Reiko, and no booze. There was no reason to keep hanging around here either. “Thanks for the news and water, Hinoe. I’ll be around.”

“Don’t die in a ditch.”

Madara waved and left. He’d have to find a job but Misuzu couldn’t be the only one in town looking for another set of hands. He could look for something tomorrow. Today, he’d swing by his old home and see if there was anything left at all he could salvage or make into a shelter. If not, he’d figure something out. He always got by somehow. He ignored the tiny niggling voice in his head that said his luck had been a lot better back when Reiko was still around. That voice was lies because clearly he’d managed to live almost half his life just fine without her.

*

It seemed there were more changes than he initially thought because when he went to take his old route home, there were buildings that didn’t used to be there and a construction site pulling up trees that used to stretch for almost a kilometer, right up to the back of his house. The buildings he could deal with, but the construction site meant he had to either go into deep woods—with all the spirits therein—or circle around town.

Madara dreaded running into someone that might remember him, so he chose the woods. Ten minutes in and he was regretting it.

There had been a kind of trail, like someone’s grandparent came all the time to collect herbs or firewood or something along this tiny, threading path. That path had gotten overgrown quickly, and then the underbrush kept getting caught on his suitcase and the humidity levels kept spiraling upward with oppressive July heat.

“This is hell,” he grumbled to the trees, definitely not to the tiny woods-spirit ducking away from him tromping through the undergrowth. “Sweaty, dehydrating hell.” The last time he went through woods like this had been years ago and he’d been running for his life at the time because he had slipped up and some power hungry ayakashi noticed his spirit energy and thought they’d use him as a tasty ticket to the top of the dung heap. He was better now at hiding so nothing was looking twice at him. Well, no more than anything with eyes would look at something disturbing their home. “I’ll find the house, find a stream, and hope the water doesn’t kill me with parasites.”

Up ahead was a bit of a clearing, a path to somewhere worn into the earth. He made toward it. He was almost halfway down a slope when the suitcase caught something and jerked his arm back. Trying to tug it free was enough to unbalance him, and next thing Madara knew he was tumbling and stumbling to an abrupt stop as he hit something with his shin, hard.

“Ow, shit!” He curled around his leg, achey all over, but only that a hot flare of pain. “No house, no money, no job, and now a broken leg!” He prodded it. It wasn’t actually broken but it was going to have one hell of a bruise later. Could the day get any...worse... There was a straw rope with white sealing charms ripped in half on the ground next to him. Either it had been half rotted through already, or he’d ripped through it when he fell. That didn’t really matter though. If that had been sealing something and he broke it...

There was a stirring of energy and Madara turned, realizing that what had stopped him was a small, run-down shrine, just big enough that he could have sat in the bottom of the structure with his knees tucked up against his chest.

“Shit.” He started hobbling away quickly. He didn’t have anything to seal it again on hand, and recently unsealed spirits tended to be angry as hell and not too picky about who or what they took it out on. “Shit shit shit.” Terrible luck was going strong for him today.

Behind him the tiny shrine door burst off its hinges, flying off somewhere into the woods and breaking a lot of underbrush in the process from the sound of it. Madara hobbled faster only to pause as he realized that the growing spirit power felt familiar. Too familiar.

He glanced over his shoulder in time to see a silver-haired body fall out of the cramped space like someone’s discarded rag doll. The color of the hair matched what his spirit senses were already saying. “Rei...ko?” he said into the sudden silence. No birds, no animals moving, just the building presence of spirit energy and a fragile-looking body sprawled on the ground. Who could have had the power to seal Reiko of all ayakashi?

Madara turned back toward her, drawn like metal to a magnet. “Reiko?” he said again. He reached out to touch and only years of ingrained fighting for his life kept him from losing an arm when the figure on the ground lashed out.

Raw spirit energy crackled between them, hot-bright, and his own rose to meet it on instinct, making what could have left a nasty burn fizzle and die in the air between them. “Reiko, it’s me! Madara!” Surely even after who the hell knew how long sealed in there she’d still recognize him. He left a bit more of his energy out into the air around them, hoping she’d recognize how he felt like he recognized her, but that was apparently the exact wrong thing to do as wild, green eyes snapped up in his direction and the unstable energy in the air doubled.

It was like a hand trying to squash him flat.

“Stay away!” she yelled. Only the voice was male. Young, pitched high with tension, but definitely male. If Madara didn’t know Reiko could shape shift...

“Look, I know we parted on bad terms, but I’m kind of concerned here.” Madara ignored the air pressure and moved closer. “How did you get sealed in there?”

Another bolt of energy almost took off his head, aimed just shy of his ear, or maybe not aimed at all. The concern turned to full blown worry. “Shit, Reiko, that could kill someone. I mean, I’m strong, but tone it down, would ya?”

“I’m not Reiko!” the silver haired—boy? Being?—yelled, arm back and ready to let loose another bolt of energy. “Get away or I’ll... or I’ll hurt you!”

“Real funny,” Madara said, gut twisting. “Good act, Reiko, almost fooled me. You can beat the shit out of me later in a proper spar, just...calm down okay?”

Madara stepped forward, reaching out and the ayakashi flinched back, green eyes going wide with fear.

Madara froze.

Reiko had the pride of ten men and would rather die than let someone see her afraid. “What the hell...?”

“I’m not...I’m not Reiko. I don’t know any Reiko. Please go away!”

“I’m not trying to hurt you.” Hands up, look defenseless. “I just unsealed you. I wouldn’t do that if I was going to hurt you right?”

There was a flicker of conflict in those green eyes before some kind of backbone showed through that fear. “I’m not going to make a contract.”

“I...don’t want one? I’m not an exorcist.” The boy relaxed slightly, but not enough, not so much that the air returned to normal. It felt so familiar... “Are you sure you’re not Reiko? Because you feel like her and this is just the sick kind of joke she’d play to get back at me for running off.” It had to be her. The longing ache in him that had never really gone away over the years rose up and Madara couldn’t help but reach out again. “Please tell me it’s a joke...” He touched a wisp of silvery hair and green eyes went impossibly wide, torn between fighting and getting as far away as possible. “Please.”

A snarl somewhere off in the near distance broke them from staring each other down. The boy flinched back and Madara’s hand was left touching open air. His hand closed on a fist as he realized he’d been projecting his energy for the last half a minute with the futile hope that the person in front of him would respond to it. Between the two of them, they were a beacon for any ayakashi wanting to test its power or grab a spiritually gifted human as a tasty snack. He snapped his control back down so fast that it hurt.

The boy looked dazed.

“We need to get out of here,” Madara said. “Either the local exorcist is going to wonder what the hell is going on or something’s going to come looking for a snack.”

“I’m not going with you. I don’t even know you.”

“Look, I was a friend of Reiko’s and I don’t know why you feel like her, but like hell am I letting some ayakashi or exorcist get you. So just trust me ok?” Madara held out a hand, palm up in offer.

The boy looked at it and looked at him, then gave a neutral smile that was so fake it was pathetic. “I think I’ll be fine.”

It would be less insulting if he’d slapped Madara’s hand away. “Suit yourself then. But you might want to calm down before everything from here to Tokyo knows where you are.”

The boy frowned and the pressure decreased to normal. Madara could still feel the ayakashi, but he wasn’t broadcasting his powers to the world anymore at least. That would have to be good enough. Madara made a show of looking around the area before stepping onto the trail.

“I’m going to take this back toward town; most people would expect a strong Ayakashi to run toward the mountains.” He turned and started walking, his limping gate evening out as he got used to the bruised leg. The suitcase was overturned at the base of the hill, but nothing had fallen out of it. Madara walked and didn’t look to see what the ayakashi did. Didn’t really have to because half a minute along the trail, he felt the boy start to follow.

Halfway down the trail the presence vanished. Either the boy left or he’d figured out how to mask himself properly, which was a good thing since Madara saw more than one ayakashi making its way toward where they’d been. He didn’t hear any fights though. He’d turn back in a heartbeat if it sounded like the boy was being eaten.

At least when he stumbled back out into the outskirts of town he was closer to his old home. Close enough that he just stayed on the side streets to get there. Well. Where home used to be. There wasn’t much left of what had once been the house his grandfather built. It hadn’t ever been a very nice house when Madara lived in it, all a bit falling apart even back then with Gramps either too drunk or too aching to fix things, and Madara either too young or too busy trying not to die from his own powers and unwanted spirit attention back then. But it had been home in its own way, familiar in its peeling paint and rickety steps. Now it was just a foundation left bare, all the rest of the building taken away.

“Shit.” His shoulders slumped. Part of him had really thought that there would be something. Something he could use, or at least something that matched what he remembered. Even the overgrown flower gardens had been torn up and overtaken by weeds. “Bet they sold Granny’s old rose bushes too.” Or maybe that weird guy that used to go by and pointedly say how they used to be so much nicer finally went and dug them up in some weird plant rescue operation. Who knew.

He didn’t really have human friends. Didn’t have many friends in general really, never had, and probably never would. Ordinarily that didn’t bother him, but it was frustrating not to have anyone to turn to. The only thing left were the few ayakashi he knew... Who might not even be in the area anymore either. Reiko had been the main one, and without her...

Well, there was one final avenue to pursue before he gave into despair and found a bush to sleep under until things sorted out. He didn’t really want to, but she did owe him.

“I’m too old for this.”

Any hydrating benefits of that water from the bar were long gone by the time he trudged back deep in the woods again. Here, at least, it didn’t change in any way except the way that nature does, trees growing higher, bushes coming and going, streams shifting minutely as the earth eroded with time. But the big white birch tree with its peeling bark still stuck out as an anomaly among the rest of this area of the forest. Here, he felt like he was twelve again and sneaking off in some childish act of rebellion.

There wasn’t anyone immediately visible at the base of the tree but that didn’t mean they weren’t nearby. Madara tossed down his suitcase and sat back on the familiar, moss covered roots. There was an ayakashi nearby. Maybe more than one if they were close together. He sighed. “Hey. Touru. I know you’re there.”

There was a pause. Then Madara had to flinch at the sudden spike in spirit energy right before an ayakashi all but fell into his lap.

“Fluffy-kun!” Touru shrieked, catching him in a crushing hug. His spine protested the action and he wheezed, unable to fend her off with his arms pinned. So, pretty much as usual with her. “You got old! Older!” She leaned back and tugged at Madara’s unkempt hair. “And less fluffy and more shaggy. It feels like it’s been a long time since I saw you. You’re not as cute as you used to be.”

“I would hope not!” Madara pushed her off his lap and she went willingly, smiling like it was a big game. Her cat ears didn’t even twitch at his volume. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“Aww, but you’re still cute,” she said. “Just a grumpy kind of cute. Though I guess you were kind of a grumpy kid too. Ah, yep, you’re scowling again! I’m so glad to see it. You’re still you. How long has it been?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Eh? That long? And you didn’t visit once? No wonder it felt like forever.”

He couldn’t tell, not with Touru and not with many other ayakashi, how sincere the enthusiasm or the sadness were. Ayakashi didn’t work the same way as humans. Time didn’t mean the same thing to them either. “Isn’t that amount of time like blink of an eye to you?”

“It could be,” Touru said. “But I’m not that old yet. I’m barely past a hundred; decades still mean something you know.”

But they would mean less and less. How little did time mean for spirits that were old, spirits like Reiko had been?

“I’ll take your word for it.” Right. He came here for a reason. “Touru, I know I am amazingly self-sufficient, but I am going to have to cash on one of those favors you owe me.”

“Ah, so not a social visit.” She looked a little sad and it made tendrils of guilt ping at him, but living was a bit more important than wondering how much he could or couldn’t hurt her feelings. The cheerful smile shifted to something more serious.

“No. Another time it will be. You still remember the sort of things humans need in a shelter, right?”

“Yes.” She tipped her head to one side. “I do still pay attention to humans, Fluffy-kun.”

“Right.” And she had a collection of human things somewhere, started by her grandfather who had studied them. Right up until his curiosity had been the death of him via an exorcist. Still, that curiosity had stuck with Touru and it had once gotten her into a lot of trouble too. She was an ayakashi that spent time with humans over the years so she should, theoretically, know what sort of thing to look for in finding Madara a place to stay. “Despite taking on the world with all my talents in the years since I left, at the moment everything I own is in that suitcase and I’m down a house. You know of anywhere I can make a home in until I earn enough money to get a proper roof over my head?”

“Hmm...” Touru tapped a finger alongside her chin. Behind her, her split tail tapped the ground in double-time. “Actually I’m pretty sure there’s an empty shrine in the woods right now you could use. It’s a little run down, but it has a roof and walls and enough space to sleep in. The one near the offshoot of the creek where that big willow tree is.”

“Touru, you’re amazing,” Madara said with conviction. “How empty are we talking?”

“The minor god that lived in it died a few months ago when his last follower passed away, and no one has moved in yet. I doubt anyone would object to you living in it.” Touru smiled.

Madara grinned back. Finally a bit of luck! To be expected from a maneki-neko. “I can think of a few humans who’d object but I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Touru mimed locking her lips like a child with a secret, not an action she’d learned from him. She must still watch humans when she wasn’t here at her tree. She glanced past Madara, into the woods, and on reflex he glanced with her, just catching a glint of silvery hair before its owner managed to hide again. Huh. So the boy had followed him after all. Whatever he was doing to stay hidden still made him impossible to sense.

“Is he with you?” she asked, curious.

“Not exactly. Feels like Reiko but says he’s not.”

“He feels human from here.”

A startling implication; only the strongest ayakashi could convincingly take human form. That was yet another thing the boy shared with Reiko. “Well he’s not human. I accidentally unsealed him earlier today.”

Touru gave him a worried, sideways look. Most ayakashi got sealed because they were a danger to humans, and ayakashi that were dangerous to humans had a funny way of attacking Madara a lot as a child.

“I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me, I just fell down a hill and got bruised up. As if some ayakashi could hurt me,” he said, arrogant smile on his face that he didn’t feel in his heart. “I told you, I’m not some little kid anymore.”

“You’ll always be that angry, fluffy little kid in my head, Madara,” Touru said, ruffing his hair like he was still twelve instead of almost forty. She used his name so rarely that it was surprising enough for him to forget to duck.

“Whatever,” Madara said, swatting her hands away as she giggled. “Thanks for the heads up on where to sleep; I’m going to go pass out there now. It’s been a long day. If you need a drinking buddy anytime in the future, I’m your guy.”

“This from the person who said sake tasted like shoe polish smelled?”

“Hey, a lot changes in fifteen years!”

Touru laughed and waved as he left. This time he was more aware of his light-haired shadow. Madara had been so conscious of ayakashi in the area he hadn’t been paying attention to more mundane sounds. So long as the ayakashi was pretending to be completely human, he was just as noisy as any other human teenager walking through the woods. Madara was still louder, but Madara was hauling a suitcase and felt like his arm was going to get torn off heaving it around, so he at least had an excuse for it.

***

The shrine was nothing much to look at. Flat paving stones surrounding it were overgrown with weeds, the door was crooked and coming off its track and there were signs that something had started building a nest inside of it. But it had a roof—overgrown with moss, but intact—and four walls, and the inside was dry. Madara couldn’t stand or lay fully stretched out in it, but it was big enough that he could curl into a comfortable position and there was a little well with water meant for purifications. There wasn’t a bit of spirit energy lingering in the shrine. The god that inhabited it must have been all but dead for a long time before it bit the dust.

Madara swept out the mess of leaves and fur and twigs that had accumulated, shooed off centipedes and beetles, and claimed that space for himself. He had a pillow and a couple blankets, and if he gathered up leaves or grass or something he could make it a bit more comfortable to sleep in. Probably. Provided that didn’t bring in fleas or ants or something. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and he didn’t have anywhere else to go. It was only until he had a job and enough cash to afford a few months’ rent for an apartment. It was summer; until then he’d manage and eat what he could scrounge up or beg off Hinoe.

The sun was sinking down and Madara’s stomach grumbled; it was a long time since that glass of water and longer still since he last had anything to eat. He was too tired to get up from the shrine floor and do something about it though. He’d just have to suck it up. There was still fat to burn from when life was still going pretty okay. He’d manage.

The world went dark. Out in the woods, fireflies lit up. Real or ayakashi, he couldn’t say. The pale green lights were pretty. You didn’t get fireflies in the city. Couldn’t see the stars either. Focus on the positives... Somewhere in the dark a fox yowled, eerie and hair-raising. A twig snapped in the woods to the right and for a second he could see the green reflection of eyes. Tapeta lucida, some far off portion of his brain that had looked it up once upon a time informed him. Reflecting moonlight. Madara tensed, senses reaching out for ayakashi, animals, anything. Nothing...no, something that felt human but—ah.

“You can come out,” Madara said to the dark woods. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Five...twelve...twenty, Madara counted firefly blinks, waiting.

Bushes rustled and parted. The boy that looked like Reiko stepped out of them. He looked like he would run at any second. He looked like he was lost. Madara felt very tired. “You can come closer. It’s not like I’m going to do anything. I just want to sleep.”

The boy crept closer. “She said you helped her,” he said, standing all hunched over and wary right outside the shrine steps. “From exorcists.”

Touru. Madara closed his eyes against the intent gaze picking him apart. “Yeah, I did. I was a child and idealistic and angry enough to do things for spite back then.”

“She called you caring but blunt.” The boy shuffled closer.

Madara’s eyes slit open, met his bright green stare.

“She said you don’t hurt ayakashi unless they hurt you first.”

Madara gave him a humorless smile. “Yeah. Most of the time. Touru thinks too well of me considering how I almost ended up being an exorcist.” The boy flinched back a little. Bad memories of exorcists, or a healthy fear of their threat. “I’m not nice. I’ve sealed ayakashi for hurting people before and I’d do it again, but mostly I just want to be left the hell alone, eat good food, and drink nice sake.” The boy didn’t look away. He didn’t run. “You look a hell of a lot like Reiko.”

“I’m not her,” the boy snapped. “Everyone is always Reiko, Reiko, but I’m not Reiko!”

“No,” Madara said heavily, “no, you’re not.” He wished it was just some mean joke Reiko was playing, but he didn’t think that was the case; she’d have swapped out her disguise and started bragging by now. “You got a name?”

Just like that the boy was tense again and Madara had to roll his eyes.

“I’m not going to steal your name. Or...force a contract. You don’t even have to give me a true one, just something to call you.”

There was a long pause, then, “Takashi.”

“Cool. Call me Madara.” Madara rolled over so his back was to the door. “Now either stop stalking me and go away or just get in here and let me sleep. Today’s been a hell of a day.”

“You won’t seal me?” Takashi said. “Or try to make me your shiki?”

“What the hell would I do with a shiki? I’m a bum camping out in an abandoned shrine. And so long as you don’t try to kill me I don’t give two shits about what you do. Try to off me in my sleep and sealing becomes a lot more likely.”

Farther off, the fox yowled again. There was a soft scuff of cloth on wood and the rattle of the door closing most of the way. The boy, Takashi, settled into a corner of the shrine, as far from Madara as the small space allowed. He was paranoid as hell for how strong he had to be.

There was a part of Madara that didn’t like having his back to an unknown ayakashi. At least that discomfort wasn’t one-sided. He closed his eyes and despite his misgivings, eventually he fell asleep. For the first time in years he dreamed of Reiko, her presence all around him, confident grin on her face and him looking up at her, beautiful, powerful, and untouchable.

*

Takashi wasn’t sure what he was doing here, curled up in a dead god’s shrine with a human. A human that could have been an exorcist with how strong his spirit powers felt in the brief moments he stopped shielding them. He’d called Takashi Reiko, just like so many others had before, but he hadn’t tried to hurt him for it, and he hadn’t tried to bind Takashi to his will like the exorcists had before they gave up and sealed him instead.

The man, Madara, was an anomaly and Takashi wasn’t sure where to categorize him yet, potential ally or enemy. For now, it wouldn’t hurt to keep track of him. There was something about him, something that was familiar in his spirit senses, like they’d met once a lifetime ago. The vague warmth that had flashed through him, that spark of recognition was gone as Madara snored, curled into a tight ball in the cramped space. Humans, ayakashi, neither made sense. Not this man, not the ayakashi who recounted the story of this man as a child saving her from an exorcist that bound her when she was researching humans, and not any of the others he had run into before in his brief span of memory. They hurt without provocation and lusted for power and would walk over you to get what they wanted without remorse.

Still, Madara had unsealed him, Touru had been kind, and Madara offered shelter instead of chasing him away. It meant something, something that Takashi didn’t understand yet.

He meant to stay awake, but little by little, he drifted off, feeling strangely safe with a sleeping stranger.

*

Takashi woke to muffled swearing. At some point in the night he had slumped to the ground. One of the blankets Madara had been using was draped over him, an unnecessary gesture but surprising in its kindness. The man in question was bent over his luggage, searching through it for something. Takashi stared.

“Stupid thing has to be in here, I packed it. I know I—” Madara cut off, either feeling Takashi’s stare or some other sense catching his attention. He whipped around fast enough to make Takashi flinch. “Oh. You’re awake. Uh. Just go ahead and go sleep as long as you want I’m just...” He jerked a hand at the warped door, still most of the way shut. Takashi kept staring. Madara’s hand dropped. He grabbed a pieces of cloth from the luggage and scooted to the door. “Breakfast. I’m going to find breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Food. That you eat in the morning.”

Takeshi frowned. “Every morning?”

“Yes, if possible, every morning. Eating might be optional for most ayakashi, but humans don’t exactly live long if they don’t eat.” Madara rolled his eyes like it was something obvious. Maybe it was; Takashi was hardly an expert on humans. “You should try it sometime.”

“It seems impractical.”

“Impracti—” Madara sputtered and froze in the doorway. He jabbed a finger in Takashi’s direction. “You know what, I’m getting you breakfast too. If there are three things worth living for, it’s food, sake, and sleeping as much as you want. Nothing better than that.” He stomped out of the shrine and slammed the door behind him.

Takashi stared at the closed door. He could go back to sleep, sleep for longer than he’d been sealed if he wanted to. Or he could leave and follow Madara and the vague feeling of familiarity his presence pulled at his subconscious.

He followed Madara. Yesterday it took Madara ages to realize he was being followed. Today it took all of ten minutes before he turned around and glared in Takashi’s direction. Takashi almost flinched back into the middle of a bush.

“If you’re going to come, at least do it in the open!” Madara complained. “It’s creepy being stared at behind tree trunks. C’mere.” He beckoned imperiously.

Against all instincts telling him he should head back to the shrine or run for the hills, Takashi crept closer.

Madara pointed at a plant on the ground in front of him. Its leaves had jagged edges. “Look! Shiso. You can eat the leaves in a salad.” He proceeded to pluck a bunch and stuff them into a cloth object shaped a bit like a bag. “And that—” Madara pointed to bright purple blossoms of thistle where the trees were a bit thinner. “Azami. You can eat the leaves if you boil them a bit. I can’t find my pan though, so raw food it is for this morning.”

There was something weirdly familiar about what Madara pointed out as they walked through the woods; knowledge slotted into place like it was something Takashi already knew, but had forgotten.

“And of course there are always dandelions,” Madara said, pulling up new green leaves from the tenacious weed at the edge of a clearing. “You can always find dandelions. Bitter as hell, but better than nothing.”

“Purslane,” Takashi said, the name of another common weed popping into his head. There was some growing a bit further into the clearing, paddle-shaped leaves on a low-growing plant. “You can eat it raw or cooked.”

Madara stared at him for a moment and Takashi wondered if he’d remembered wrong. Then Madara huffed. “Right. It also tastes kind of gross, but it’s healthy.”

“Isn’t the point of food to taste good?”

“Not everyone has the luxury of being something that doesn’t require food,” Madara said. “Now pay attention! I’m teaching!” He grinned. “You should call me sensei.”

“Why would I do that?” Takashi complained. Madara wasn’t terrifying anymore; the more he talked, the more Takashi thought he just liked the sound of his own voice. He wasn’t terrible company even if he was kind of annoying.

“Because I’m teaching you life skills, brat! You never know when you might need to know this!”

Those words tripped something in Takashi’s memory. A woman and a small child in the woods and a handful of warabi, the fern stems still tight and new held close to her chest. It’s a life skill, brat! Takashi blinked and the feeling of being two places at once vanished, but the moment lingered, exasperated fondness tinging his emotions. How odd.

Madara had an eyebrow raised in challenge and his hands on his hips.

That echo of fondness swelled and for a moment Takashi could see Madara as something other than a potential threat, just a ragged man with a bit of an ego and a soft heart under a gruff exterior.

“Well?” Madara said.

“Nyanko-sensei,” Takashi decided on.

“Excuse me?!” He puffed up, just like an offended cat.

“Your eyes are gold like a cat’s,” Takashi said. And Touru’s nickname of ‘fluffy’ wasn’t wrong; he was a bit fluffy.

“Why is there a ‘ko’?!”

“It sounds better,” Takashi said, amused as the man sputtered and grumbled about ayakashi and demeaning nicknames.

“Fine!” Madara threw up his hands. “Whatever! Help me find something that isn’t god-awful bitter to make up for the rest of this.”

Takashi didn’t point out that he had no idea what to look for. He’d let Madara remember that on his own.

[vickisventures]

The Invasion

(These are pictures from a day trip to Ft. Hays State Park.)

This will probably be my last blog for a bit. We have only 2 weeks left here and then we’ll be traveling. We are so excited to see the countdown begin. The city park where we are at is thinning out. After this weekend, there will probably only be 4 of the 10 spots filled in our section of the park. DigiKey even feels quieter. With so many workampers leaving, things are busier though and the offer of overtime is starting to come back. This last week we arrived on Monday to our “super bay” to find 2 other girls there. Both said they were assigned to it. One only works Sunday-Tuesday so we hadn’t seen her and the other one had been on vacation and said she was promised that bay when she returned. So we figured it was only a matter of time before we got the call to move elsewhere. It came around our “lunchtime” and our supervisor told us there’d been a mix-up and that we were supposed to go to KG to work. That was the bay that we had been at for a day and a half that I didn’t like. So, grudgingly, we moved back there. The first day was a disaster. There was stuff all over the place and it’s not a big area anyway. A guy told me what they call that bay but it’s something I can’t repeat! Thankfully on Tuesday when we returned, the product had been put away and things were fairly organized and so we did some more organizing to make it more user friendly for us and the day went fine. The rest of the week, we remained busy and were able to keep the bay how we like it- clutter-free. It’s only a 2 row (4 shelf) bay but with that comes a small work space and a feeling of claustrophobia at times. Steve and I survived the week and assume we will be there for the next 2 weeks but I would not place a bet on it! I have learned that at DigiKey.

I can’t believe we waited so long to do it, but we finally bought a small humidifier for the RV. We really should have gotten one when we were in S. Texas. I remember looking for a used one but never found one that would work for us. It’s amazing how much water can fill the reserve in a short amount of time and it’s not especially humid right now. It has been raining more lately which is why we finally got one on Amazon. I think it’s one of those “must haves” for RVers. You think you won’t need one, but you will. I’m doubting we’ll need it much in Arizona but even there you can have those days…

One week later: We survived another week, but we didn’t survive the Asian Beetle. Last year we got an infestation of the stink bug and it just about drove me to drink! I would wake up and find one of those nasty bugs staring at me from the ceiling and it’d scare me to death. I had read plenty about people having the same type of situations with this ladybug like insect. For those of you who are not familiar (and be glad) with the Asian Beetle, it looks like a ladybug only it’s orange instead of red. It loves to find warmth to escape the cooler temperatures. Like the stink bug, if you kill one, it’ll leave a liquid/smell behind that draws its “family members” to it and after a while you can have a real issue with them. I have heard of people having hundreds of them and finding them everywhere…in the slides, in the rolled up awnings, in the A/C, etc. So I’m not exaggerating when I say, you don’t want them even if they look cute. I started seeing them about a week ago and told Steve. I tried to express the seriousness of this situation to Steve and I don’t think he quite got it. After we started seeing them more and more, inside and out, I think he finally got the picture. One day, they were swarming. I was out walking Aspen and when I got back to the RV, I was afraid to go to the door because they were everywhere. I grabbed the broom and started to brush them off the door so we could dash inside but as soon as I’d brush them off, they’d come right back. They were even attacking me. I finally gave up and just picked up Aspen and we ran inside. Some came in with me…on me…but we lived. I jokingly told Steve we might have to call our supervisor and tell her we couldn’t make it to work that day because we were being held hostage by beetles and couldn’t leave our RV. It was really awful. The next day, I told Steve, I couldn’t take another infestation and so he called the Express Pro (our employers) office and asked if we could move to another RV park in town. They said “yes” and so yesterday, we got up early and packed up as quickly as we could and moved to the other park before we had to report to work. They said they had some of the beetles there too but we really haven’t seen too many. Now I’m not saying we don’t still have a problem with them. I’m sure we brought plenty with us even though Steve did everything possible to leave them in St. Hilaire. There was just no way of getting rid of them completely with how they like to hide in places. Today we bought some spray that is supposed to kill them and Steve just got through spraying inside and out. Hopefully that will take care of the situation and we will stop seeing them soon. In the meantime, we just use our hand vac to sweep them up. We only have 1 more week here and I don’t want to bring the problem with us! The park we moved to is nice. We actually have WIFI (thus the ability to write this blog without wanting to scream) and cable and a nice big site. We are maybe 2 miles from Digikey, another plus. This is where we wanted to be in the first place, but it was full when we arrived. Now that winter is approaching, spots have opened up. We’ll enjoy it for a week!

We had our 3-month evaluation on Friday. They showed us our pick averages and repick numbers. Lisa was very happy with our numbers and so were we for newbies that keep getting moved around to different bays.

Aspen was supposed to have a grooming appointment today. We drove to Grand Forks and dropped him off. I got a phone call about 30 minutes later from the groomer saying he’d had an attack and fallen over and she was afraid that grooming him would stress him out too much and she wasn’t willing to take that chance. I tried to tell her that he has those from time to time but she was too traumatized and said she’d trim up his face and clip his nails but asked me to come get him. He has been having these “attacks” more. It’s hard to decide whether we should take him to the vet and hope there’s something they can do for him or just let him be. It’s so hard when you are a full timer and don’t have a vet who knows your pet.

Lastly, we have decided to change our winter plan. I saw an ad on Workamper News of a job that sounded interesting. I wasn’t really looking for anything because I was looking forward to returning to Mesa Regal, but we decided it wouldn’t hurt to send our resume and see what happened. I figured the position had already been filled anyway. The next day, we got a response from the GM saying he’d like to talk to us so we called him and talked about the position and he offered it to us. We bounced it around for a day looking at the pros and cons but, in the end, we decided it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Let me reiterate, we never see jobs like this offered in the winter, which is why we felt like we should put in our resume. We are working at a resort in Apache Junction which is still the Phoenix area. Two of the cons are it’ll be a longer drive to get to most of Madison’s softball games and we really prefer Mesa to AJ. It’s called Roadhaven Golf & Tennis Resort. It has around 1062 sites and they are owned by the residents. It has about all of the activities you would expect of a large Arizona resort: pickleball, 3 pools, crafts rooms, fitness room and exercise classes, etc. Our job will be to manage the hospitality office. We had to ask what that entailed but basically we will be dealing with people who are interested in the resort and either want a tour or have questions. We are responsible for finding volunteers to cover the office hours when we aren’t working it and we also will give prospective owners information they need in order to investigate properties for sale. We also will help the activities director setting up and tearing down for some of the major events. We will each work 25 hours/week and we are going to try to make sure we have volunteers for the days Madison has games so we don’t miss any. We will see how it works…we have until February to try to get it worked out anyway. I’m sure we’ll have some issues since we are “management” but we are going to give it a shot. This is the amazing part: they pay for ALL hours worked AND the site and all utilities are free. Unheard of for winter workamping jobs. We earn PTO as well. We have hopefully learned not to accept any job solely based on the money and we had to check ourselves, but the pros seemed to outweigh the cons on this one so we gave Cal-Am/Mesa Regal the bad news. We still start November 1.

So that ends our time at DigiKey and this blog post!

[musingsofamurderess]

I'm not a Democrat, the bipartisan system is a sham. I have been homeless and worked a minimum wage job because I decided to go into recovery for my addiction problem (I've been clean and sober 8 years). I chose to leave my old life and start a new one for myself, one that I built from the ground up, and I have everything that I need. I didn't have any other choice but to start over because of how miserable my addiction made me and everyone around me, if I wanted to continue living and not take my own life, anyway.

My parents are both white and my dad is pretty well off, his thoughts are partly in line with what certain people keep saying when it comes to privilege. I keep hearing white people talking about how they don't understand why black people are so angry. Many honestly believe that, no matter what, if you work hard and do good, you will be rewarded, but amongst black communities in America, this couldn"t be farther from reality.

If you can't see your privilege, I can't blame you for that, but I can share my experience on how I see it. I can ask you to open your mind for a moment and just imagine what it might be like to walk in someone else's shoes. How would your life be different had you been born black?

When I worked minimum wage deli jobs at several different stores, 9/10 of the people who had been working in the lowest level positions with me were POCs. And those who had been there over 2 years and were STILL in the lowest positions were even more likely to be POCs, in fact, I only met one white person who had been there longer than that and was still at minimum wage and she was disabled and could only work limited hours. And I struggled to keep up with most of those POCs work ethic bc before that, I had been used to getting paid more to do less. I pulled my back out and lost use of my left leg for over a week trying to keep up with the speed, volume, and variety of tasks these people made look almost easy.

The people I worked with were ALL hardworking adults, many of them middle aged, some just mid 20s. Many of them had prior drug or other minor charges from when they were younger, much like how rich white kids get DUIs in college....kids are young and reckless, there's no way to prevent that altogether. But the difference here is that employers that offer 401ks, pension and retirement plans, adequate life and health benefits will hire you if you have a DUI, but not if you have a felony, and sometimes not even if you have a misdemeanor. I'll talk more about that disparity shortly, but that's why many POCs are stuck in low paying jobs. There would occasionally be a "token" POC in management, but all other managers were white, and they usually hadn't worked as long as POCs in the department they oversaw.

I read heavy undertones in anti-BLM posts suggesting black people are somehow inherently more lazy, disruptive, or violent than other races, but I don't see where anyone buying that stereotype has ever lived with, loved, or actually spent a decent amount time working alongside a typical minimum wage/dead end job with POCs and actually getting to know them as people? Do people perpetuating these stereotypes even know what they're talking about? I'm willing to bet they don't because they don't have any real experience living with and around people of different races and cultures.

So, what on EARTH gives anyone the right to disparage entire races of people by labeling them as lazy, disruptive, or violent? If you're basing your evidence toward that effect on the actions of a few radical protesters, or the few rowdy young bucks you've come across, you're probably taking their actions out of context. Many young people of all races exhibit those behaviors just because they're young and reckless.

That is to say, there are many reasons to consider about why people could act the way they do, before we even start to think about how POCs might actually have some pretty good reasons on top of just being young to "act out". Many of them very well may be facing a future that's been significantly limited financially, professionally and personally, by the systemic racism in the flawed system you're trying to defend. I think that's a pretty good reason to be angry. No government is perfect. Period. But if we can't look at the way we treat our friends and neighbors and try to fix things when they aren't right, what are we doing? Defending antiquated systems that just aren't right for us as a society anymore is wrong. So many people in this country are suffering; so many feel trapped and doomed to a life of poverty.

Many POCs don't have college degrees to fall back on, and they didn't even fuck up their college like I did because of my alcoholism and addiction, they just never got a chance to go because culturally, it's gotten so bad that many POCs can't even push to expect their children to get into college because there's no way they could pay without a scholarship or financial aid that could indebt them for 10 or 20 more years down the line.

SO PLEASE tell me how alcohol, a traditionally white culturally normalized relaxation commodity, is legal despite the insanely high rate of alcohol related deaths that occur in this country, when weed, a traditionally POC culturally normalized relaxation commodity, is STILL NOT LEGAL when the number of deaths caused by or related to its use each year is so much lower (some gang deaths if you want to include those, and presumably those would be less if it were legal).

Oh yeah, could it be that we as a society just like to arrest and incarcerate POCs for minor and major drug charges so they can get felonies and white people can find excuses not to pay them more, promote them, or hire them into higher level positions, to prevent them from pursuing higher education....cause drug charges from marijuana use/posession/distribution do ALL of those things while drunk driving white alcoholic buisness leaders abuse and endanger their families and businesses with just a slap on the wrist for drunk driving that could potentially kill other people.

Please explain to me how addictive substance legislation is "fair" to cultural norms for POCs. How a rich white kid's DUI gets expunged if he agrees to do some classes and community service, but a POC found driving while smoking a joint, in possession of a week's worth of weed gets a felony that prevents him from job and education opportunities for the rest of his life. They're both kids, but one kid gets his chances at financial success in life effectively extinguished and the other gets away with it with no lasting repercussions.

Privledged people (we're seeing a lot of white people like this) just want to protect and preserve the system the way it is because it benefits you. Your life isn't limited by social and cultural injustices so there "must not be a problem at all." You can't step outside your own shoes for one second and see that maybe not everyone else has the same experiences as you. Maybe not everyone is treated equally.

This is just one example of systemic injustice, for more, listen. Step back from what people are telling you to think for a moment and just consider what's being asked. Most BLM supporters are not asking for anything crazy. They just want fair and equal justice for all, no matter what that takes. Apparently asking for it isn't enough, or we wouldn't be at this point. We need to talk to each other. To find some sort of compromise that ensures TRUE EQUALITY for all races by the Department of Justice and other governmental departments engaging in systemic racism by choice or without even having noticed what they were doing.

ALL RACIST PEOPLE AND POLICIES should be unwelcome in government, but that's a story for another rant.

If you take nothing else from reading this, please LISTEN to what real black people think and want to happen, not just radicalists. All we need to do is start listening, caring, and acting to make things better for everyone by ensuring that EVERYONE has equal rights and is treated fairly, regardless of how much money, power, influence, assets, or any other possession or opportunity they have that could be leveraged to tilt legal justice in their favor. A whole group of people are crying out, screaming, and straight up losing their shit, and unfortunately rhere are a few extremists doing dumb destructive and hateful shit, all because apparently freedom isn't as free for some as it is for others. Don't we owe it to ourselves as a society at least to listen?

[theblackdragon-studios]

Made: 11/5/17 Posted: 11/25/17 Here’s the reference sheet of my fursona in fursona form. It’s pretty simple, since I couldn’t fit much in and this isn’t going to be a serious character used in stories. She has a backstory (which is similar to mine, but with fantasy elements to match my headworld) but I’m trying to keep her as true to the real me as possible. -Information- Name: -classified- Nicknames: BDS (official nickname), Fluff God (joking title), Angst Queen (unofficial title), Spiced Fluff (Fall joke nickname), Fat Fluff (not an insult) Human Name: Meg (not my real name) Age: 22 (until September 18th, 2018) -in human years- Gender: Female Species: -unknown- (referred to as Dream dragon by some, Fluff dragon by others, space dragon? Undecided.) Family: -classified- Zodiac Signs: Virgo (astral), Boar (Chinese) Birth Stone: Sapphire Sexual Orientation: -unknown- Relationship Status: Single Social Type: Introvert (Which means I don’t dislike talking to people and socializing, but gets back energy-or ‘recharges’-after a while of this by being alone and doing solo activities.) Religious Beliefs: Christain (Nazarene) Interests: Sitting at home drawing while watching YouTube videos or reading a book if there’s one interesting enough available. Also enjoys roleplaying online with friends (Undertale’s a good ice breaker with strangers), chatting on DeviantArt with friends, and posting her art on DA for feedback or just to show it off to people that will enjoy it. Also likes taking long flights, sleeping, and food. Flavored coffee is her favorite beverage, and she only drinks Mochas when holiday Lattes aren’t available. Disinterests: Not a fan of sports-except for wizarding Quidditch-or hiking. Will settle for a fast walk, especially while listening to some kind of music or audiobook or talking with her companion. In general she’s a very stay-at-home dragon more than a sporty, active one, but will leave her home for certain reasons. Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff Ilvermorny House: Horned Serpent Good Qualities: -A loyal friend -Kind -Willing to listen to her friend’s problems and frustrations -Good artist -Loves to laugh -Doesn’t judge until recieving both sides of a story usually -Selectively good memory -Doesn’t get angry easily Bad Qualities: -Shy to the point of going quiet too quickly if a conversation reaches a point she can’t think a response -A bit lazy -Takes forever to reply to a roleplay, whether because her response is going to be really long (hence the laziness) or because she forgets or thinks she can reply later and THEN forgets… -Forgets some things easily, especially when thinking about something else -Takes a while on art owed, again because of the memory issue. Working on this. -Beats herself up about her past when she happens to remember something bad from it. Danisnotonfire on YouTube calls these “Cringe Attacks”. Which are apparently normal I think. Good. —— Abilities and Important Design Features (this is mostly the fursona herself, not what I can do in real life) -Paint Brush Tail: Like Shardie did and does in roleplays, BDS has a tail that can paint on anything and everything. But it acts like an actual brush. No Okami brush techniques, just drawing on reality. All her drawings can come to life or be used in some way (like if she drew a rope, she could use it like a rope, or if she drew a mustache you could play with and twirl it like an actual one) but they’re still made of ink or paint. So they don’t become an actual person, just a drawing walking around. Easily erased with water or a special eraser. -Glowing Markings: I’m not sure yet how I want these to go. I was thinking the glowing blue part is her skin under the fur, but then I wondered if that was too weird looking. The markings on the face are not skin, they’re actual markings. All of them have an unnatural glow to them. Meaning it’s not clear where the light source comes from, but it makes a good nightlight or becon. She uses her huge wings to cover these markings when being stealthy, and sometimes people mistaken her for a benevolent spirit or even a Japanese deity or demon because of her facial markings. -Mood Change Markings: She can do this at will, but BDS’s markings change color with her mood as well. When reaching absolute fury, they turn red. Though she can turn them this color at any time, if they’re glowing red and her sockets are either dark or the blue expands and the white slit becomes a slit-shaped gap in the middle, you know she’s beyond pissed. -Eyes: This probably isn’t needed, but for now the eyes are two glowing blue lights with gold centers and white slits for 'pupils’. They’re like Sans’s in Undertale and the black surrounding them are sockets. -Fluffy Body: I’m not called Fluff God for nothing. lol *shot* One thing I wanted to keep consistent with my fursona is FUR. Big, fluffy fur because it’s fun to draw and is so soft and, well, fluffy. For now this is BDS’s winter coat. As it gets warmer again, most of the fur sheds around the neck area, leaving a fluff collar like Shardian!Sans’s in a sense. Though the neck remains covered in fur. -Medium Legs: The legs are a mix of a dog and a cat I hope, and are good for walking but not so much running. Though she will run if it calls for it, BDS prefers not to. She has retractable claws, but usually keeps them in since in real life, I don’t have fingernails. -Chubby Build: BDS is chubby. Not fat, but chubby. She has a visible, hanging belly that can stretch quite wide. Especially when eating someone (yes, vore). -Huge wings: Her wings are very large and have the most muscle strength on her body. The reason for this is so that she can stay in the air for long periods of time without tiring or being dragged down by her weight. Both fur and fat together. Her wings also have star-patterns on the underside because I like that wing design. -Size: By default this is BDS’s size, however she can shrink to a little smaller than Shardie (big enough to walk about a house my house’s size) and a house cat (for cat naps in small spaces). -Shapeshifting: BDS doesn’t have an anthropomorphic form officially, but does have a human form which looks similar to Shardie’s but with some changes to not look exactly like her. The facial markings are also on this human form. -Breath Weapons: Bet you all think it’s a Gaster Blaster light beam, huh? XD *shot* No, actually BDS breathes blue fire that is actually Ice Fire. It looks like fire but when it hits its mark it leaves ice behind. She also weilds lightning. -Vore: This is only important to those that don’t mind being drawn in art like this, but for the story behind it, BDS doesn’t enjoy fatal vore when it comes to sentient creatures. Especially fellow sonas. When eaten by her, the next day they wake up unharmed either in their bed or somewhere else. No harm or pain comes to anyone swallowed by the Fluff Dragon, BDS. Anything else on this particular subject and those related to it will be in a different reference sheet if necessary. -Dream Walking: BDS isn’t referred to as a Dream dragon for nothing. She has the ability to visit other’s dreams, but unless really determined to do so, she cannot interact with them during their dream. She simply observes like one watching a play or movie but while able to walk around in said play or movie without being noticed by the actors or characters. If someone she knows well (a friend or close family) is having the dream and especially if it’s a nightmare, she can bend this rule and actually interact with said nightmare to protect or aid them in whatever way she can. When it comes to Dream Walking with friends, if given consent by them, they can meet up in the dream to talk or hang out. This is especially helpful when it’s a friend that’s across the world or in another state and unable to visit or BDS is unable to visit them. In order to do this, she must inform them first of her ability, and tell them how to let her in. -Universe Travel: Can travel through the multiverse to anywhere possible. Unless a universe is closed off to travelers she can get there. (Except with worlds owned by friends…since it isn’t serious or story-driven, I break those rules anyway. lol) -Outer Space Travel: Built for space. Has thick fur, no nostrils so probably no lungs needed for oxygen, and a huge body. So space is the default habitat of BDS. —– Q n A (Some of these may not be pressing questions…but I want to get as much information on the design and its uses as possible.) Q: Can I roleplay as or use your fursona in any way? A: No. Do not roleplay with or use my fursona or any of my characters. If you are a friend, you may do so if you INFORM me first. This doesn’t mean you can’t draw them, it means you cannot use their designs or the characters themselves in your roleplays, forums, or blogs. These are not adoptables, they are not blank slate characters, and they are especially not characters in a franchise where I have made money and a name for myself with them. They are OCs, still copywritten to me and not available to be roleplayed as unlike characters like Sans from “Undertale” or Spyro from the “Spyro” games, or TV show characters. Q: Are the wings detachable? A: No. The wings are always visible, but there will be times I’ll be too lazy to draw them. Officially though, the wings are meant to be permanently attached and unable to be removed or hidden except when BDS is in human form. Q: Is there a reference sheet for the human form? A: Yes, there is. Q: Will your fursona be used in fandoms? A: Yes and no. BDS will be drawn in art related to friends, real life events, and when I just feel like it. I want to put Shardie, my main OC, and my other actual OCs in crossovers and fandoms. That doesn’t mean I won’t put BDS in a few. Like Undertale, which has a special place in my heart, or other fandoms I’ll never move on from if BDS is an appropriate or fitting addition. “My Little Pony” probably won’t be one of them…but we’ll see. You will definitely see BDS in “Villainous” though. Q: Will she be in any ships? A: Yes, I’m going to probably draw her with my fictional character crushes.. Q: Can I ship her with my OC or sona? A: That…depends. When it comes to friends, I’m ok with it as long as you know it’s not the official pairing BDS is in. Crack ships or just-for-fun ships are fine. But I’m officially single and I’m not looking for a relationship. I will probably draw my fursona paired with other characters (mine unless discussed with a friend if they’re ok with me using theirs) but none of them are official or 'canon’. Most are just drawings with no story attached. When it comes to strangers though…I’d like to be informed before you draw your OC or sona in a shipping picture with mine. Even if you’re a friend, I’d like to know. Just so it doesn’t come as a shock. IMPORTANT: ASK ME BEFORE DRAWING OR WRITING ANYTHING SEXUAL INVOLVING MY FURSONA OR ANY OF MY OCs, PLEASE. Q: Can I draw your fursona? A: Absolutely! I would love fanart of any of my characters and my fursona. Just as long as you tag me properly so I can see it. ——- So this is me. At least the true form of my character self/fursona. Human form reference sheet is next. ——- BDS and art © BlackDragon Studios (me)

[logh-icebergs]

Episode 8: Cold Cybernetic Eyes

Summer 796/487. The Empire reels in the aftermath of Yang’s successful takeover of Iserlohn, opening up opportunities for Reinhard. The sinister Oberstein, having escaped from Iserlohn by the skin of his teeth, makes a proposal to Reinhard. Despite Kircheis’s trepidations, Reinhard accepts, and trades favors with the Kaiser: Instead of occupying one of three newly empty seats at the head of government (abandoned for reasons of dishonor following Iserlohn’s defeat), all Reinhard wants is for Oberstein to be pardoned for his desertion, freeing him up to be Reinhard’s new staff officer. Finally, Kircheis has a flashback that’s so romantic he surely would rather we had stayed out of his head for once. Sorry for the intrusion, Kircheis!

Oberstein

Oberstein is the most fun to have at parties.

In her episode 7 post, Rebecca introduced us to Oberstein’s cold pragmatism as it applies to matters of war. In episode 8, we learn how this aspect of Oberstein’s personality (to the extent that he has one) reacts when exposed to something that can’t be reasoned with: love.

Oberstein, it turns out, has goals. Having grown up with a congenital disability in a society founded on violently ableist principles—as Oberstein explains, the first kaiser of the Goldenbaum Empire would have had him killed at birth—he has a perfectly rational desire for treasonous revenge on a large scale. I’m serious: I’ve made it pretty clear that I can’t stand Oberstein, but his ambitions are noble. Problems arise, however, when he starts going after those noble ambitions, because Oberstein is seemingly only capable of acting in the most Machiavellian way imaginable, at all times.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Following his desertion from Iserlohn, Oberstein arrives in Reinhard’s office and asks to speak to him alone. When Reinhard counters that they already are alone, despite Kircheis’s presence, Oberstein doesn’t let the matter drop. This leads to the following telling exchange:

Of course Reinhard and Kircheis aren’t equals in military rank, so Reinhard is talking about something different here. Or, he’s talking around it—but in a way where he knows Oberstein knows exactly what it is he’s talking around.

This has always struck me as being reminiscent of “spousal privilege”—Reinhard is telling Oberstein that he keeps nothing from Kircheis, and will not agree to keep anything from him. Also, Bratty Reinhard is my fav.

A quick and only sort of relevant note on Reinhard’s language here: Like the conversation between Rubinsky and his aide in episode 5, Reinhard uses ambiguity here as a cloak that works both in-universe and on a meta level, directed at the viewer. He never says “Kircheis and I are romantic partners”—that would be unacceptable in the homophobic Goldenbaum Empire (we learn later that gay people were another demographic “cleansed” by the founding Kaiser), and would prevent LoGH itself from continuing to “pass” as heteronormative.

But the frank, almost confrontational way Reinhard acknowledges the subject (“Don’t you know that?”) and his aggressively casual body language suggest that he’s just on the edge of saying it explicitly, and knows he’s taking a risk by riding that line. He also knows he’s powerful enough to take this kind of risk—albeit in a carefully measured way. This whole conversation is an amazing Gay Power Play and I love it.

Anyway, back to Oberstein, who absolutely does not understand why Reinhard would ever unfairly privilege one person over another in the workplace:

Oberstein does not experience a full range of emotion—it’s part of what makes him such a good strategist, because he can easily see the most efficient path to whatever outcome will result in fewer lives lost. His vision isn’t clouded by complicated factors like emotional attachment or personal bias. He sees people as numbers: More talented people (and here “talented” is defined as someone who is instrumental for Oberstein’s Most Efficient Path) are worth more, but generally speaking one person is just as valuable as another. 100 people dead is worse than 1 person dead, with exceptions made only, again, for talent that can be put to utilitarian use.

And, as I’ll be saying a lot, Oberstein is kind of right, strictly in an amoral sense. But most of us, like Reinhard, don’t think that way. We all have people who mean more to us than what Oberstein would decide they’re “worth.” And this is why Reinhard’s relationship with Kircheis—in and out of the workplace—completely baffles Oberstein.

And make no mistake: Oberstein is totally right that Reinhard plays favorites with Kircheis. Of course he does! They’re boyfriends!

When it comes to Kircheis, Reinhard doesn’t act rationally. Sure, we know that Kircheis is incredibly talented, but his talent isn’t why Reinhard keeps him at his side and prioritizes him over his many other more-accomplished admirals. Reinhard does this because he loves him. Along with that love comes implicit trust—Reinhard knows there’s literally nothing Oberstein could tell him that he would feel unable to share with Kircheis—and a desire to be close. Like Kircheis’s decision to follow Reinhard into the military, Reinhard could give any number of well-reasoned arguments for why he grants Kircheis special privileges, if he felt like it. (And he doesn’t ever feel like it.) But the real reason Reinhard does this is because he wants to. It can’t be explained with logic, which means Oberstein can’t explain it. And that really gets under his skin.

Reinhard and Kircheis

Kircheis is not happy about Reinhard’s decision to hire Oberstein. He is not happy AT ALL.

This gif breaks my heart but I can’t stop watching it; please send help.

It makes sense: In many regards, Kircheis and Oberstein are opposites. Oberstein doesn’t understand the concept of one person being of particular, sentimental value; Kircheis has built his entire life around devotion to one person, for sentimental reasons. Oberstein believes that ends can always justify the means; Kircheis feels guilt over every death that results from his actions, however indirectly. That said, Kircheis’s moral compass is far from entirely steady: Reinhard’s well-being and continued success matter more to him than almost anything else—Kircheis kills for Reinhard on the battlefield, and has been nonjudgmentally covering for his more morally questionable decisions since childhood. Oberstein, who would never make exceptions like that, might as well be a different species.

But Reinhard needs Oberstein, or he thinks he does, partly because Kircheis could never orchestrate the sorts of devious plans that come naturally to Oberstein—and that Reinhard is convinced will be necessary in order to conquer the universe.

I’d bet money that what Reinhard stops himself from saying here is something to the effect of “I need someone who’s willing to do things you would/could never do.”

And regardless of Reinhard’s intentions, he has clearly driven a wedge between himself and Kircheis. It’s frustrating to watch because, given Kircheis’s moral relativity, he would probably come around on Reinhard’s reasoning if given the chance. But just like he sees Annerose as more powerful than she actually is, Reinhard sees Kircheis as softer than he actually is. I think Reinhard’s instinct here is to protect Kircheis from the darker side of the task they’ve set for themselves, and also, of course, to hide an aspect of himself that he worries Kircheis would find distasteful, or disappointing.

This last bit is especially sad, because as should be obvious by now, Kircheis doesn’t love Reinhard despite his flaws: He just loves Reinhard. If only Reinhard had more faith in that fact.

Poor Reinhard.

Kircheis leaves Reinhard alone with his excellent wine and almost fails to stomach a perfunctory salute in Oberstein’s direction as Oberstein quite literally replaces him in Reinhard’s office. If Kircheis feels jealousy here (another irrational emotion!), and the framing of this scene certainly suggests that he does, it’s because Oberstein is obviously fulfilling some need of Reinhard’s that Kircheis is unable to, at least to Reinhard’s mind. My guess, however, is that Kircheis’s predominant feeling here is simply one of foreboding: Reinhard cutting himself off from Kircheis even a little is a new thing for them (see the “spousal privilege” moment above), and Kircheis, as I’ve covered at length, really fucking HATES OBERSTEIN.

No, the relationship between Reinhard and Oberstein never becomes romantic, so please put that cursed thought out of your mind before I do it for you.

And with that, we’re back in another of Kircheis’s flashbacks, this time with a generous helping of lube smeared directly on the camera, courtesy of the DVD remasters. Thanks for that, remasterers, really...

The Teen Years

This flashback is basically just one scene, but it’s incredibly dense, and incredibly gay. Let’s dive in.

On their way back from a visit to Annerose, a 15/16-year-old Reinhard and Kircheis run into a rapist (of noble birth) threatening a young woman (a commoner) in a back alley. Reinhard attempts to bash the rapist’s head in before Kircheis can grab his hand and drag him a safe distance away from the scene where, like before, they tumble down a hill together.

One thing to keep an eye on (ha) throughout this flashback is Kircheis’s gaze. In my episode 4 post, I talked about how drawn Kircheis is to Reinhard, and that’s on full display here.

Reinhard and Kircheis proceed to have a conversation that is ostensibly about corruption in the Goldenbaum Empire—specifically, in an echo of Oberstein’s purported reasons for wanting to overthrow the Empire five-ish years later, Reinhard’s hatred of the fact that some people are valued more highly than others just because of how they were born. But, like so much in LoGH, there’s a lot more going on here than the surface-level reading.

I love Reinhard’s open, vulnerable expression here. It’s something we almost never see, but when we do, it’s always directed at Kircheis.

For the duration of this scene, all of Reinhard and Kircheis’s movements and facial expressions are unambiguously romantic. So is the cinematography and, frankly, so are most of the words. In fact, if you want to try a fun exercise, go through and mentally replace every mention of overthrowing the Empire with “I’m gay.” Literally nothing else has to change for it to make sense—up to and including Reinhard’s frustration with imperial narrow-mindedness.

Here the camera, which has been claustrophobically tight on Reinhard and Kircheis’s faces, zooms out momentarily to show us how close they’re sitting to one another, and how unnecessary that is in such an open space.

Reinhard and Kircheis are sitting practically on top of each other, leaning their faces in close, and talking in hushed and urgent tones about subjects that have been forbidden by the society in which they live. Reinhard is talking explicitly about the fact that he wants to transgress against these societal constraints; Kircheis is terrified of getting caught having this conversation, but never disagrees with Reinhard, only leans in further, excited. This is such a classic “coming out” scene it’s almost cliché.

This shot of Reinhard and Kircheis leaning in for what is almost a kiss still takes my breath away every time I see it. Kircheis doesn’t even bother to close his mouth, the poor thing.

But even though this flashback is practically screaming its queer subtext into a megaphone, it’s still a bit more complicated than some of the other scenes we’ve excavated for hidden nuance, because the surface reading isn’t incorrect, it’s just incomplete. Reinhard, after all, really does want to overthrow the Empire; that’s not just code for “I’m gay.” The intimate body language and double-entendres don’t invalidate a superficial interpretation of the scene, they just build on it.

In a way, we’re watching two conversations: one literal, about overthrowing the Empire; and one metaphorical, about Reinhard’s sexuality and—more obliquely—Kircheis’s as well. It’s a very economical use of airtime.

It’s also worth noting a key difference between this scene and its earlier parallel in episode 4, which has to do with someone whose name hasn’t come up in a while: Annerose. Actually, it’s the fact that her name hasn’t come up in a while that differentiates this scene from the other one. When Reinhard originally invited Kircheis to come with him to military school, he said it was to gain enough power to rescue Annerose, and Kircheis thought about Annerose’s request to him before he agreed to go. Now, five or so years later, despite literally just having come from a visit to Annerose in her place of captivity, neither boy brings her up even once during what is basically an evolution of the same conversation.

At 15 or 16, Kircheis is a lot more sure of himself and his desires than he was at 10. There’s no question in his mind, at least, about why and for whom he is continuing to follow Reinhard. He still does a mental check-in with himself before taking Reinhard’s offered hand, but the only voice he listens to this time is his own.

Even without the knowledge that eventually this stance is used to signify romance between at least one other (hetero) couple in LoGH, this cross-body handhold only just barely passes as straight.

So, given the physical intimacy and emotional vulnerability and double-entendres pervasive throughout this flashback, what actually happened that night, in addition to a conversation about treason? My read is that Reinhard and Kircheis consummated their relationship in some way that was a lot less symbolic than what we saw. Every detail of this flashback is conveying to us that we're seeing the night of their first kiss, and this is LoGH, so trust those details. They kissed (at least).

That he’s actually remembering their first kiss explains the moment above, when Kircheis comes out of his reverie and uses unapologetically romantic language that is mirrored, unsubtly, in the cinematography.

And so we return to a less blissful present, where Reinhard and Kircheis, five years later, are still looking up at the stars, but not together.

Stray Tidbits

I have no idea why this random-ass scene is so beautiful, but I’m not complaining.

Worldbuilding note: At the beginning of episode 8, we actually get some straightforward backstory about the origins of the Empire and the Alliance. So here's some exciting new information: The first year in the Alliance's calendar was in our 2801. That means *does some calculations* episode 8 takes place in 3597, apparently. Damn!

[akiharashizuka]

Yu-Gi-Oh VRAINS episode 3 thoughts

(I feel like this screenshot isn’t the most representative one, but it can’t be helped since the title shows up there)

First Contact

I expected that Knight to not give any information, however I didn’t think he would just try to blow up both himself and Playmaker. And he had no second thoughts about it. I know it’s a virtual reality, but Ignis said that you suffer mental damage. I doubt he wasn’t aware of that. This scene made me question if he’s really human or something else.

Oh, wow. 

Ok, the Knight was terrified when Ignis “ate” him, so I guess he is human, but was mentally prepared for exploding. 

Hmm I guess the person is safe, but the account got permanently erased or something. It’s just my speculation.

Pfff xD I could have sworn this would happen. 

However, I didn’t expect Blue Angel to challenge him as well. I understand why Gō did that, since he likes standing out and Playmaker stole the spotlight, but I don’t really get why Aoi as well.

The exit was great though xD

So Revolver has the “3 things” speech pattern. The difference is that he just stated that they are going to find out Playmaker’s identity soon and started enunciating the reasons. Yūsaku says beforehand that there are 3 reasons why *insert statement here*

And his reasons make so much sense. I’m impressed he could notice so much and put things together in a short amount of time. Ok, I know Yūsaku had been challenging the Knight of Hanoi for a while, but I assume it hasn’t been that long since he started. Plus, he just got his hands on Ignis, which is the organization’s goal. So, they had no reason to pay that much attention to him (only keep their guard up).

Ugh...What’s this? Link VRAINS avatars? They can create stuff like this too? o_O

I think they are avatars, since a few weird looking reporters are shown, followed by these two. Ok...they probably look even weirder.

The frog-like one yelled at the pigeon not to use his real name, so that probably settles it. And they are clearly in Link VRAINS. So, people can be really creative with their avatars.

Some even got so far to create fake avatars that look like Playmaker O_O

The one that posed like a bodybuilder cracked me xD

Decode Talker seems to be materializing by itself. I have to agree with Kusanagi: Data Storm might be really incredible.

Too bad Ignis can’t give more info. So, along with most of his body, he also lost plenty of memories. That’s a bit sad. He was on the run for so long, but might have forgotten why.

Aww, now I feel sorry for him.

I bet he was trying to protest and tell them that he actually has a name, but couldn’t since Kusanagi turned the sound off. 

Hmm, so the subs went with “Eye”, for the spelling of his nickname. I would have chosen “I” (the letter), since Yūsaku said it comes from A.I. And the pronunciation is the same for the word “eye”, that’s why Kusanagi thought it was a good name. The wiki uses “Ai”, which works too, but it’s more of a feminine name. Doesn’t really matter though, since either one is fine and I’ll still call him Ignis anyway.

It looks like more people want to try the Data Storm and Speed Duels. Who can blame them? It’s something new that seems fun and exciting.

However, the in-game security (?) doesn’t agree and goes as far as suspending their accounts (well, that was more for ignoring the warning). Hmm, so SOL Technology doesn’t want more people to use the Data Storm, I guess.

Speaking of which, we get more of the higher-ups speaking this time. I checked the ending credits and they are indeed (code)named Rook and Knight. Hopefully the others will be added soon enough. 

As for Akira’s plan for catching Playmaker, it sounds rather simple, but I guess it’s the most effective one.

Talking business while waiting for the traffic light to turn green. Sure xD

Some info about Ema was revealed to be an information hunter and doesn’t really take sides. Which I think it’s interesting. However, here she is kinda being employed by Akira to investigate Playmaker. Hmm, I guess his plan is more complex then. It’s not only to allure him in a battle with Hanoi and capture him, but also gather information.

One thing that I noticed is that they are being rather casual. Well, not that much for Akira since he’s always serious, but he called her by her first name, without any honorifics. And Ema just tells him straight (sort of) that he is willing to use anything to have his way, including her.

Wait...Gō’s home is some deposit-like building? Decorated with a wrestling ring, training equipment and a TV O_O That looks like a unique place to live. 

His obsession for popularity is kinda getting on my nerves. Though, from the info revealed, there has to be more to it. And it’s starting to show some signs of that, since the manager (I initially thought he was the butler) pointed out that Gō is a hard-worker and doesn’t duel for money.

About Akira wanting to ask him to duel Playmaker, guess that was obvious, considering what he told Ema. Hmm, I didn’t think he will explain the situation to them (sure, without giving any vital info). But I liked how Gō turned the offer down xD

Akira definitely has data on Gō’s background. The big hint is what the manager said about him looking like he knew everything and being ready to threaten them. 

Before he left, Akira pointed out the hand-made belt. This is just a guess, but it looks like it was made by a child (or maybe more). It has to be related to why Gō worked so hard to become a popular duelist and why he wants to protect that fame. 

Another peculiar thing regarding Yūsaku is that he managed to decipher something about Ignis’ program, while Kusanagi had to idea what to do. 

And that something is no other than the memory of Revolver destroying the Cyberse. It gets even better when the system starting acting up and Revolver’s face shows up. So he can sense Ignis as well.

At first I was a bit confused, since clearly they weren’t in Link VRAINS, but the city looked digitized, then Revolver passed by on his dragon. I must say, the moment was intense.

When Kusanagi showed up, I realized that it was a vision, most likely from the virtual reality and only Yūsaku could see it. It most likely has to do with sensing Ignis and how he instinctively knew about Speed Duels.

Should I worry that Yūsaku smiled when he said that Ignis will disappear if he tears apart his program?

Well, Ignis does reveal stuff...And as I expected, he doesn’t remember why he is being chased...And not even why he escaped in the first place. I’m surprised that Ignis didn’t give up on running away. That memory must have left quite an impact on him.

That must be Dr. Kogami. His name was revealed in the cast list for this episode. Hmm, nothing really interesting here, just that they are planning something and, of course, a Revolver is willing to challenge Playmaker.

Then, that strange sound started playing and Revolver was in a hurry to leave. Now that’s curious.

So that’s Revolver’s real form. Sure, it’s shadowed (for now), but the silhouette looks different than his avatar.

You know, it kind of reminds me of the image shown last week with (supposedly) Kusanagi’s brother. However, that doesn’t make much sense. At this point at least.

It’s gotten more tragic all of a sudden...So that person is his father and Revolver only wants to make his wish come true...I have no idea what happened, but I’m already sympathizing with him. And I’m glad it’s that way. 

I love how VRAINS already gives us hints that the characters are more than what they seem.

That mark must be important. I have no idea right now what it could be, but I’ll make sure to keep it in mind.

This may sound trivial, but why are there so few students O_O The classroom is huge, but there can only be seen 15 students...Is the class so boring that most of them would rather skip? Or they just want to hang out in Link VRAINS?

Either way, I’m glad this was brought up. I’ve been trying to find the origin behind the Knights of Hanoi. I mean, Hanoi is the capital of Vietnam, but I highly doubt they took it from here. I had read a little about the city, but couldn’t find any connection (at least at that time). Another possible name origin is the puzzle game, Tower of Hanoi. Again, I couldn’t seem to find a solid connection, but since the teacher is explaining this very puzzle, this might be it.

Just to give a brief explanation, the creator of this puzzle took inspiration from a legend which takes place in an Indian temple. Then, why “Hanoi” you might ask. The only explanation I found is that the temple in the legend may be located anywhere, including Hanoi. I’m not satisfied with this, but oh well (I should probably search for other sources...). The legend says that in the temple, there is a room with 3 posts, surrounded by disks. The priests, commanded by an ancient prophecy, have to move the disks, following some rules (I'm assuming these are the rules of the game itself). The priests have been doing that for a while and, when the puzzle is completed, the world will end (it’s kinda forced, but this might connect to revolver wanting to destroy the Cyberse)

Now, for the rules. As seen in the image, the disks have different sizes. They can only be moved on top of a bigger disk. Also, only one can be moved at a time. And you can only move the uppermost disk on the stack.

Not sure if all this info will be useful in the future, but I couldn’t help myself when I saw the teacher explaining the Tower of Hanoi. And the scene moved on to something else, so yeah...

Shima just being a fanboy again. I wonder what Yūsaku thinks in this kind of situations xD

Hmm, so he left Ignis watch over his house...That doesn’t sound like a very good idea.

Ok, first off, what kind of house is that? The walls are cracked and overall it looks like it could be abandoned. Hmm, I guess the rent is cheap.

Luckily, there is that little robot who keeps it clean. I wonder where did Yūsaku get that. Did he build it? Either way, it seems it (or should I use “she”?) is called Roboppy.

And 3rd, Ignis looked so suspicious there. Then he convinces Roboppy to become his underling. I kinda have a bad feeling about this xD It’s not only about him getting free, but also if Ignis keeps his promise and modifies Roboppy, it’s gonna be troublesome. Then again, he might not do that.

On a side note,  I chuckled at “idiot is a prohibited word”.

Oh. 

This has to be a different person than the guy Yūsaku dueled. I might be spoiling it, but the summary already revealed that Gō disguises as a Knight of Hanoi and duels Playmaker. Plus, we’ve seen Gō logging in right before this. And if you compare the vices, you’ll notice that they are the same.

Of course, Yūsaku leaves immediately. I guess it’s a good thing he sits next to Shima who checks Link VRAINS regularly. 

Next episode we get more stuff about Gō, which should be interesting. He most likely contacted Akira and went on with his offer. Also, when Yūsaku gets home, he might have a surprise...not a pleasant one though. 

[mybodyliberation]

Touring Hacks Part II

Touring Hacks Part 2

 Greetings to my fellow performers and fellow travelers. It would seem they were are back with a second installment for hacks when you are on the road! I had no idea that part 1 would be the hit that it was and it was actually my most popular post of 2018 so I want to give a BIG SHOUT OUT and say a massive thank you to everyone that read it, shared it, commented on it and took the time to feedback to me about how helpful it was.

It warmed my little nomad heart and I have to say that it made me want jump straight back into things in this beautiful New Year with this the second part of how to hack your tour.

The truth for most performers at the moment is that our work is on the road. This isn’t to discount any of my other friends part of other industries in which they are required to work, but for us performers it is becoming more and more apparent that while shows don’t seem to be regularly changing and casts seem to be remaining the same, it means getting jobs in “town” is become that little bit harder.

However it would seem the UK’s national tours are absolutely thriving, 2019 being no exception as we see major musicals like The Book of Mormon, Motown, The Bodyguard and no exception of my own job *cough* Matilda the musical *cough* hitting all the biggest regional theatres. That of course doesn’t exclude all the fantastic new seasons at all Rep’s across the country.

Anyway I digress, the point is more and more of us on the road, so here are some tips to help, cause just because we’re not at home, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be comfortable.

 Be Alarmed

I mean it, be alarming, by making sure you are alarmed. Yes that means you. Get yourself an alarm. You see the thing is most of the time we head to these towns and cities we have never been in, we got out and socialize or we walk home late at night and we don’t know the nuance of the neighborhoods and what areas are okay and which ones are not. Sometimes we are close to the theatre but sometimes we are not and it’s important that if you are doing a lot alone, you have something to protect you. So get yourself a rape alarm. Make sure you have at on you at all times. Just in case! The hope is that we remain as safe as we can as often as we can, but there it isn’t overacting to make sure you have a way of getting help should you need it.

Don’t Panic

That being said, also have a bit of balance. Do not panic. Easier said than done of course, but try and be calm in as many variable situations as you can. We want things to run smoothly and to plan but life isn’t like that and that goes for double for life on the road. Yes we want to schedule and make sure our days our structured, but we also need to make sure we leave a bit of flexibility. So if things are going belly up, if you end up having to move digs between shows (this guy), if a window falls out in your room at your digs (its happened), you have random extra rehearsals, there’s no microwave or parking at the theatre, DO NOT PANIC! It will all work out. You cannot do it all at once. So take your time and stay as calm as possible.

 VavaVroom your VaVaVoom

If you are in the UK arts industry as of last year then you’ll remember the #VaVaVoom incident, in which case I won’t go into too much detail, but least we forget. A moment of silence for an every thriving industry full of Va Va Voom.

Now that said, because you know I had to say it, let’s get to the Va Va Vroom bit.

This hack is for any of you that drive. If you can? Do it. Honestly I am trying to get my act together so I am driving before this New Year is out, but it’s an asset when you are on the road. You end up clocking miles and hours yes, but the convenience of being able to move around whatever city you are in without worry of figuring out transport and more importantly, how you’re going to get all your many belongings from A to B, it ends up being a lot more cost effective than you think.

If you’re worried about your environmental impact then that’s okay. Opt out of driving altogether or at the very least keep your driving to a minimum, choosing to walk or get the bus with shorter journeys and using public transport when you can.

Try local restaurants instead of chains

A great perk of touring the country means you get to visit places you ordinarily wouldn’t have. So why not use the opportunity to feed into the local community economics and visit local cafés and restaurants. It’s a great way to find new food and drink and you’ll probably find you spend less money than you doing visiting the same old chain restaurants.

It’s also great if like me you have really specific dietary requirements, because what I am learning is that outside of chains, restaurants and café’s tend to be much more accommodating and willing to make sure you still have the best food and the best experience.

Ask the theatre digs list

Something other performers and probably even your agent has told you to do, but this is a very important one because though a lot of the accommodation seeking has moved online for convenience, you’ll find some real gems for some great prices on the digs list. So when you are looking to book your digs, don’t ditch the digs list. Just email the theatre’s you’ll be visiting to request a copy and they’ll email it straight to you.

Stay with friends

Now if you’re really looking to save some coin this would be your best bet. Always see if you can stay with friends or friends of friends or friends of your parents. It might not always be what you were looking for but again you could stumble onto some hidden gems and more importantly save some much needed money for something else like transport or maintenance.

Limit your luggage

This is something that we all learn the hard way. You see the number of months you’ll be on the road, you factor in the fact that you probably won’t be able to get home frequently and so you pack as much as humanly possible. You even pack that outfit you don’t need but you know, have, just in case there ends up being a royal visit. Honey if there ends up being a royal visit, order something from asos.

Just make sure that you pack with purpose. Keep in mind you won’t just travel clothes. You’ll need other important items that you use day to day and if there’s no room what are you going to do, because touring three big cases just isn’t an option when every venue move means getting on a train by yourself.

Be smart. I’ve evolved through the stages of hikers backpack, to suitcase, back to backpack, back to suitcase, to two suitcases, to two suitcases and a massive backpack and thankfully I’m down to one medium sized case and a big backpack. Even then it doesn’t seem like there’s ever enough room.

Remember, plan for the time of year, your environment, your work schedule and other things you might get up to, but keep it practical.

Theatre digs website

Now back to the subject of digs (accommodation), another great way to look out for a great place to live while you’re visiting a new place is to check via www.theatredigsbooker.com It’s a website  that I have both used as a host and as a guest and I have to say, it’s really handy way to do research and know what your options are because the likelihood is that even if you find your digs through the theatre list or somewhere else online, your host will also have a posting on TDB.

You can search digs based around the distance to the theatre and a varying degree of specified options that help narrow down the search. So whether you are looking for self-contained or sharing, non-smoking or smoking and parking space, house or flat, TBD offers you all of those options.

Now you are required to pay a deposit, but I am always happy to do this if it means securing my place in a great place, and knowing that the level of service I am going to get is of a higher standard.

Plus having experienced some seriously horrible digs in my 12 months of touring, there’s a real comfort in knowing that there is someone out their regulating accommodation right now. As prices soar for both hosts and guests, it’s great to have someone meditating how we communicate, book, interact and experience.  

Portable Hepa purifier and masks

Now this is something that I honestly didn’t even realise I needed until the very end of the year. Diffusers and purifiers and humidifiers have also been something that I have been aware of but I have never really entertained how it might play a part in my day to day, but it purifiers entered in from stage left and I’m ready for it to stay.

You see we have to really take care of ourselves and especially our voices, and sometimes as travel and stay in other people’s homes we can’t guarantee that things like, the air around us, will be adapted to what we might be used to at home.

I’m also an asthmatic so making sure that I protect myself from things like smoke, allergens, chemicals etc, is becoming more and more important, especially if I want to dodge being sick and even more so if I want my voice to be in working order.

So honestly looking out for a portable HEPA purifier that can just be working away in your digs room to ensure you are sleeping in the cleanest air you can. Do some real research here because there are a lot of different brands with a lot of different uses, so know what works for you and the result you are looking to get.

Leading into that, if you don’t want to travel anything like that but want to try and filter the kind of things entering into your atmosphere (cue John Mayer track) then look into the multitude of filtering masks that you can get.

There’s a reason that these are so popular in South East Asia. Pollution is a real thing you guys and it’s important to protect what’s going into your body as you spend a lot of time travelling and in other people’s spaces.

Be Mindful

It’s a brand New Year and even if it’s a New Year, but same you, it’s important to recognize that in this industry mental health is something we overlook, and if it’s not directly or actively effecting you right not in a tumultuous way, that’s no reason not to take care of it.

Something as simple as practicing mindfulness daily will affect not only your daily life but your working life. I promise you’ll find yourself being able to focus not only in your personal life but in your working life.

I like to find a few moments either before or after warm up to remove myself to a quiet space and centre myself and my thoughts. Sifting through the facts from the fiction in order to make sure I am in the space I need to be to give a great show.

There’s some great apps on the market, a lot of them free that can help assist you on a journey of mindfulness and it leads to gratitude which I promise you cannot have too much of.

[ahnsael]

I have to be (well, be perceived to be) a major asshole at work for the near future, on orders from my boss (but in all honesty, he’s 100% right).

Both of our graveyard bartenders have been giving away the bar. Almost literally. They’re so busy chasing tips that they have thrown “complimentary drink policies” -- policies which they just signed for on Wednesday of this current week (as in two days ago) that they understood and would abide by (after signing that they would uphold those same policies -- which haven’t changed -- when they became bartenders for the company) -- aside for a few extra $1 tips from a regular who takes advantage of them.

That regular almost got 86′d last night, but because he was literally stalking a female guest who thinks (correctly) that he’s a creep. Seriously, this guy is a total man-baby. He demands we change the music to his liking, to a volume of his liking, with complete disregard for the rest of our guests (who would like older music, at a lower volume). We are DONE changing music/volume at his request. He doesn’t like that, but screw him. Again, he’s a man-baby.

This morning at my meeting I was told not to wait until he approached this other guest. If I see him looking for her, I just tell him to leave (and if he doesn’t leave at my request, I call the county Sheriff and have them escort him out). Just the fact that he was looking for her (and never found her, thanks to my other graveyard manager and I keeping her posted on his whereabouts because we knew she was uncomfortable with him and giving her diversions/escape routes if he got close to her before we got there) is enough to tell him to leave.

Because, let’s face it: if we’re giving her escape routes, SHE isn’t the problem. It’s the self-entitled man-baby who is the problem.

He doesn’t play a lot of money here either, but...let’s face it, it’s just about doing what’s right. I don’t care (nor have I checked) her level of play with us. If this guy is making her uncomfortable, I have her back.

As the story I just told about the basic situation last night developed during our meeting with the boss this morning. It went from my boss saying “tell him to leave her alone, or get out” to “just tell him to get out at the FIRST sign of this behavior.” It also went, for our bartender, from “we need documentation so we can demote him to part-time bartender” to “HOW THE F**K IS THIS GUY STILL WORKING HERE?” since he was the one tipping this other guest off to the lady’s whereabouts (which is a DIRECT violation of company policy, not to mention a violation of human decency).

I’m REALLY glad to know that my boss is on the same page as I am, and that I could have thrown the male guest out of our casino (and written up the bartender) with the boss’ full support (the only reason I had only *written up* the 86 notice for the guest and not yet delivered it is that I was worried about how my boss -- a Texan white man -- would react; but he seems to be a Texan white man who has his head on straight).

But we’re definitely on the same page.

And this isn’t a heavy player. He’s been drinking most of our Crown Royal (for you non-drinkers, that’s really expensive booze).  And he’s not usually even betting enough to qualify for more than a Budweiser, Coors, or equivalent cheap domestic beer. And he’s been getting craft beers (which require a higher bet than he places) ALONG WITH the Crown Royal.

And this guest’s total play per night MAY pay for that bottle of expensive booze, depending on the night (though I have yet to see the night, based on his stats [which we can look up since he plays with a player’s card], where his losses actually equal what we’ve given him in booze; and yes, sometimes people get lucky, and sometimes they do not, and sometimes those streaks can last for a bit -- even the winning streaks, but his plays and wins/losses do NOT justify the amount of booze that we’re giving him).

My boss is supposed to email me directions to use a program to monitor this guy’s bets in real time (which, even though it’s two hours after my meeting and I should be in bed, I just emailed him asking for directions on how to use it), and then I will compare that to how much booze he gets (no computer program for this; I just have to walk by the guy every few minutes and take note of how/when his empty/empty-ish glass is replaced with a full one), and how often he gets it. I’m REALLY looking forward to having access to that info (after that, if I could be taught how to replay video from our cameras, that would make me REALLY happy because there are things I have to pawn off on my boss which I have more time to investigate than he does).

And we’re not a casino that just gives away booze. We have minimum bet amounts to get different levels of drinks. BECAUSE we’re small (and I love the fact that I work at a SMALL casino instead of a bigger one with more layers of red tape), we have  to watch our profit margins more closely.

And this guy gets drinks often enough that we can’t just say, “well, he’s not betting enough, but he’s not getting the drinks as often as policy dictates anyway.” Our bartenders on grave spend most of their time with this guy (to the detriment of the rest of the guests, where us managers have to remind the bartenders that there are other guests in the casino who ARE betting enough and who want drinks).

So you know what? Our bartenders are gonna HATE me in the upcoming weeks (until they’ve shown themselves the door, either by quitting because they hate me, or getting fired for their own willful violations of policy). And while I don’t like being hated, I’m gonna take their hate like a champ. Because I’m a manager, and it’s part of my job to be hated for enforcing company policy by people who have their heart set on violating that policy.

[notsofly]

Ties in Blood Chapter 27

@mrswhozeewhatsis @percussiongirl2017 @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @winchestergirl-13 @squirrelnotsam

Warning: Cutting/suicide.

Note: “Kushiel’s Legacy” is a book series by Jacqueline Carey. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 27

Aaliyah slipped into the guest room that Pris had set up for her and closed the door. There had been too much that Aaliyah couldn’t let go unnoticed. With the drops of information from her siblings about her being in a tv show, Aaliyah wanted to check it out. Starting what appeared to be her laptop up, Aaliyah dug through her bag and pulled out a change of clothes. After the long trail ride and tending to the horses, she wanted a shower. Luck had been on her side when the laptop started up without the use of a password. She squinted her eyes at the results that popped up from putting her name into the search bar.

Her name pulled up her page on the database for movies and television shows, news articles about her and what she’s done in ways of giving back to the community and charity work. Most of the charity work focused on those who lived below the poverty line and barely made anything. That didn’t seem so bad. It had touched home for her childhood. Her eye caught the headline of an article that had been posted the day before she arrived at the house.

‘Kushiel’s Legacy’ Seeps into the Real Life

Aaliyah clicked on the link and scanned the article that broke the news that she had been caught having relations with one of the directors of the television show she was a regular on. The article went on with information from an unnamed person who worked on the show telling the news outlet how Aaliyah and the director had been seen to be a bit too close during times on set and would go out after the day’s shooting was done. Even showed up to set the next day as if they spent the night together.

She closed the laptop without closing the window, seeing enough of what her pretend life was like. It sounded like a good life if it hadn’t been for the outside relations the article spoke about. Aaliyah grabbed her clean clothes and headed for the nearest bathroom for a shower. Voices drifted down the hall from the dining area. She would have ignored them if her name hadn’t been said. She crept down and hid in the shadows against the hall.

“I’m surprised she had the nerve to show up with all the stuff that’s going on,” Leo said. “I mean, doesn’t she know what she does reflects on us, right?”

“Not like she has enough … fun while shooting some parts of the show,” Xander added.

“You try having actual adult moments with a bunch of people hanging around watching,” Nissa said in Aaliyah’s defense. “Besides, the guys have this … sling thing that keep ‘em down for those times.”

“Still, she had to be caught like that,” Leo circled back around. “Do any of you think she had enough smarts to not do it?”

“Who said she actually did any of it? We haven’t heard her say anything about it.”

“She could be trying to avoid it,” Xander suggested. “I’m not saying she did or didn’t do what TMZ or other celebrity news are reporting. We all know Aaliyah’s been the one who had to grow up when our mother died.”

That was true enough. Aaliyah had to lie about her age a little in order to gain a job while in junior high. Xander told her not to do it.

“She did have a tough time when we all started living together,” Nissa commented.

“Who’s side are you taking here, sis?” Leo asked.

“Think about it.”

Aaliyah heard footsteps in the kitchen; Nissa walked somewhere.

“Put us in their position,” Nissa continued. “And you had to do what Aaliyah did? Then mom married another man and we social climbed. Then you didn’t have to struggle to save money for food or thrift store clothes. Or help pay bills.”

Aaliyah didn’t hear anyone speak after that. It was her cue to slip back down the hall for the bathroom and start up the shower. It was the perfect dream life; a family, one or both parents living, and a stable job. Hearing her siblings sitting around discussing something she hadn’t done wasn’t part of that dream.

She closed the door behind her and locked it before dumping her clean clothes into the sink. Once she had the water running, Aaliyah put her hands on the sink and put her weight on them. Her breath shook before she looked into the mirror. A green and blue eye scanned her sun kissed skin. No scars or any sort of mares that she had gained from the years of hunting. Aaliyah pulled her shirt off and moved to look at the spot where the hand print should have been from the Djinn. It wasn’t there. Nothing added up.

“Help me,” a disembodied voice echoed in the bathroom.

Jerking at the sound, Aaliyah looked around to find no one was there with her. None of her siblings would have thought to pull the “hide a speaker in the bathroom” prank. Out of the corner of her eye, the mirror reflected the image of the guy in the coma at the assisted living place. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at the image. Sleep had been short the past few days, but Aaliyah swore she had enough to not be hallucinating things.

“Aaliyah?” Nissa’s voice was muffled by the door. “Is it okay I come in?”

She shook her head free of the image. “Yeah.” Aaliyah worked off her pants when Nissa entered and closed the door.

“Are you sure you wanna go back next week?” Nissa asked. “I mean…”

“Do I really wanna face all the criticism and backlash of whatever someone claimed I did?” Aaliyah tossed the last piece of clothing into the dirty pile and stepped into the shower. “The news broke Thursday, sis. Unless the higher ups at the network decide to pull the show before the season finale, I’m sure nothing serious has been decided.”

Aaliyah heard Nissa lower the toilet lid and saw her shadow sit through the decorative shower curtain.

“We’re just worried,” her sister said. “I mean, we’re not exactly cut off from the world here.”

Aaliyah paused in working the shampoo through her hair. “You’re worried that the rumor of what may or may not have happened will make everyone look bad.” Not that she could really blame them. “Whatever people are claiming isn��t true. Any bet it was someone who had gone for the role I got but got a lesser role in the deal. And this is their way of trying to get back at me.”

She rinsed out the shampoo with the thought that Nissa would be able to see right through the lie. Conditioner was worked through and left while Aaliyah grabbed the body wash and a washcloth.

“You’ve been here most of the day, and not once brought up the matter,” Nissa said. “We can help.”

“Not sure how much help you all will be.” Aaliyah worked the lathered cloth over her body. “I gotta handle it on my own.”

“Or … you could just stay here. There’s a few job openings at the local theatre.”

Aaliyah stopped mid leg, thrown off by the comment. It sounded like her sister made the suggestion that she quit the show and get involved in the local theatre. Why would she do that?

“Anyway,” Nissa broke into Aaliyah’s thoughts. “We’re gonna be leaving in about an hour for dinner. Thought you’d wanna know.”

Part of Aaliyah wanted to dismiss what Nissa said out of hand. It was the perfect life. Being one of a handful of rising stars, being a lead on a television series based on a book series too good for movies, and all the charity work. Aaliyah couldn’t imagine much else. Something had to be tossed in for a twist; the article. There had to be that one thing to be the wrench in the plans. Rinsing out the conditioner and the body wash, Aaliyah turned the water off and stepped out of the tub.

***

Aaliyah slid her chair under her as she sat at the table. The others were settling in as the host assured that their waiter would see to them shortly. She adjusted her shirt a little before reaching for the glass of water. Her eyes shifted around the full dining room, low conversations at each table and the wait staff moving about like a well-oiled machine. The light was high enough to be able to read the menu and see her siblings and step mother at the table, but not those at the nearby tables.

“You all enjoy your ride this afternoon?” Pris asked, putting her own glass down.

Aaliyah nodded along with her siblings. It had been a relatively uneventful ride that she would have missed in the city. If she had experienced the life everyone else remembered. Her siblings ordered their choice of wine when the waiter came by. Aaliyah glanced at the wine list before spotting the section for other alcoholic drinks.

“I’ll have … a Long Island, please,” Aaliyah ordered, ignoring the barely contained glares from her family.

“Was that necessary?” Pris asked when the waiter walked away. “A Long Island, come now, Aaliyah. How old are you?”

“I believe…” Aaliyah laid the alcohol menu down as she worked to keep her voice low and level. “That I am old enough to make that effect my life without the judgmental looks from my family.”

“Mom, can you not?” Nissa asked, her voice low. “Not here. Please?”

“Why not here? It’s as good as any.”

“Because we don’t want any more attention,” Xander countered.

Aaliyah caught his glance around to the nearby tables to see a few of the people giving sideway looks at them. “They’re right, Pris. Not here. I’m willing to talk…”

“Then talk.”

Aaliyah pulled herself up straight at the raised voice that pulled more looks from the other tables. “I will not here.” A finger teased at the folded cloth napkin, exposing the steak knife. “Do you not think for one second that I would know better than to get involve with a director?” Two fingers continued to work at the napkin, freeing the knife. “I have better morals than you give me credit for, Priscilla. Do not lump me in with a portion of the Hollywood stars that view sleeping with higher ups is a good way to get better roles.”

She watched Pris stare her down from across the table, her fingers subtle movements touched on the knife handle and slid it back within her grasp. Aaliyah caught the anger that seethed just under the surface of her step mother, wanting to lash out at her.

“I knew taking you and Xander in was a mistake,” Pris said with a shake of her head. “This whole dinner was a mistake.”

Aaliyah caught movement behind Pris as she stood. It was the same guy from the assisted living building. He lifted one arm and traced a finger from wrist to crook of the elbow. Was it that simple to escape? It couldn’t be.

“Mom, just wait and listen,” Leo protested, his voice pulled Aaliyah back. “This wasn’t a mistake.”

Aaliyah looked down to the knife in her hand as her siblings worked to keep Pris at the table and not cause the scene to disturb the other diners. It was the knife or break a glass for a shard. The short blade was cool to the touch when she put it against her wrist. With a deep breath, Aaliyah closed her eyes and pressed the knife tip into her wrist. A trickle of warmth pooled at the point before rolling down the side. She mentally counted to three before sliding the blade up her arm. The hushed argument of her family continued at the table. Aaliyah opened her eyes to see them leaning over the table, unconcerned of what she had done. She put the knife in her other hand, blood seeping from the cut, and made the same cut on the other arm.

Her sight started to blur when Nissa turned to face her; someone from another table had seen the blood on Aaliyah. A voice urged Nissa to leave the table, that the mess wasn’t their problem. Aaliyah assumed it was Pris. Leave it to an imaginary step mother to just up and leave like Casey did. Aaliyah slumped forward onto to the table, her arms dangling at her sides. The knife eventually slipped from her loose hold onto the floor.

“Aaliyah, wake up,” Nissa pled, her voice distant. “Come on, sis. Not now.”

The more Nissa pled, Aaliyah swore that her voice grew closer. As if …

**

Aaliyah shot up gasping for breath. Someone gave a sigh of relief. She sat there on the bed, allowing her breathing to return to normal. A movement at her side brought her attention to Nissa; behind her was Leo tending to the recently deceased Djinn. Aaliyah moved an arm in an effort to stretch and saw IV lines attached to her.

“We thought we lost you for a second there,” Nissa said, working on removing the lines. “It was something we weren’t looking forward to with Xander and your friends.”

Aaliyah narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Friends?”

“Yeah. The one said his name was Plant. He and his FBI partner …”

Aaliyah huffed in amusement. “That’s Dean and Sam. How’d you forget about them?”

“FBI, remember?” Nissa pulled the last line free. “There, all good. How the hell did you get caught?”

Aaliyah rubbed the spots where the needles had been and shrugged. “I don’t know. Low point, maybe. How long was I missing?”

“A few hours. At first we thought you were on to something and didn’t wanna lose the trail.” Nissa shifted on the bed. “But when you didn’t come back … Something was wrong. We went through your journal and found the entry about the Djinn. Do you know how hard it is to find a silver blade and lambs blood in the middle of winter?”

Aaliyah’s head bobbed a little. “It’s tough finding them anywhere. So, you took it out with a blow to the head?”

“One of the best ways with any monster. Come on, I’m sure the others are worried.”

Aaliyah accepted the offered hand up off the bed and stepped over the blood stain. She followed after Nissa back to Xander’s room, smiling every time her sister looked back over her shoulder. She couldn’t blame Nissa for the constant reassurance that she was still there after the Djinn attack. A hand rubbed the spot that sported the double hand print of two Djinn as she walked into Xander’s room.

“Damn it, Liyra,” he cursed when she walked in. “Nearly gave us all a heart attack.”

“Love you too, Jerk face,” she shot back. “Nissa said Sam and Dean were here.”

“Yeah, but they headed off for another case once they were satisfied Nissa and Leo had the Djinn handled.”

Aaliyah nodded, the odd sense of relief washed over her. Part of her hadn’t been ready to see Dean again, but another wanted to make sure she wasn’t dreaming again.

“Tell you what, sis,” Xander broke into her thoughts. “Why don’t we all have a movie night? I’m sure there’s gotta be a store open that’s got some movies or something.”

She chuckled. “I doubt it, but I’ll look into it.” She moved over to Xander and kissed his cheek before ducking out.

In her path to the reception desk, Aaliyah heard a whistle low enough to blend into the background noise. Glancing around, she spotted Leo who gave her a nod. The Djinn had been disposed of quietly somewhere no one would find it easily.

“May I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“I know most places might be closed,” Aaliyah started. “But do you know if any movie places and stores would be open?”

“There’s the movie store down the street open until 3pm,” the receptionist answered. “And the dollar store closes at 4pm.”

“Thank you.” Aaliyah aimed back for Xander’s room.