#it's also about mommy issues and passing those down in a cycle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daportalpractitioner · 4 months

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mommy's moon sign: a thread ☾ part two — libra thru pisces

if you're looking for part one (aries-virgo), then click here

libra moon: if your mom has a libra moon, she could have been more preoccupied with her relationship with your father rather than putting herself in a position to be focused on her pregnancy + preparing a balanced environment for you. libra moon mamas often go through it with the father of the baby if they prematurely decide to have kids outside of wedlock (we don't judge over here). your mom could have been more focused on the aesthetics of motherhood + also on you being able to have both parents under one roof to be able to fit her ideal family picture. this mentality could have led her to distract herself from the bigger picture which is making sure that she is in a healthy, fulfilling relationship with your father. i wouldn't be surprised if you knew more than you should have when it comes to your parents' relationship as a child. with libra being the sign of relationships, the relationship patterns that your mother exhibited when pregnant with you could have been something that you picked up on, whether it be healthy or unhealthy. beware of issues with co-dependency + people pleasing passed down from your mom as those are big themes that must be overcome in the life of a libra moon mama. libra moon mamas hold a lot of resentment due to being so passive about people overstepping their boundaries + could project that pain onto you if it remains undealt with. as her child, she may be triggered by her relationship with you because she sees you as her mirror. encourage her to have strong boundaries. it's okay for her to say no and she won't be hated for it. respect her decisions. be sure not to be the child that coddles her emotions at the end of the day because she is a grown ass woman, but you should affirm her that it is okay to self-validate without trying to over-rationalize however she feels so that she can move through her emotions + not be avoidant.

scorpio moon: the moon is in a debilitating position (fall) when in scorpio, therefore, it isn't uncommon for women to have a painful pregnancy due to all of the trauma being stored in the womb. your scorpio moon mama may have lived in a state of fear or distrust during her pregnancy + i wouldn't be surprised if she felt alone due to not trusting people. this lack of nurture within the womb was definitely passed down to you if she didn't take accountability to heal from the pain that she experienced. scorpio moon mama would kill to make sure that all your needs are met, but when it comes to handling intense emotions, she may have not known how to navigate those with you (similar to capricorn moon mothers). scorpio moons experience a wounded relationship with their own mother + now that it's their turn to be a mom, they want to be better for their children. motherhood is definitely something that transformed them for the better + they really have the make a conscious effort to not display the same patterns that hurt their inner child. be patient with her + even though you are not responsible for her emotions + how she handles them, provide a safe space for her so that she knows that she is not alone. having emotional boundaries with your mother is also important — not having those boundaries with her can manifest into perpetuating a preoccupied/anxious attachment within yourself.

sagittarius moon: sagittarius moon moms usually end up unexpectedly pregnant. i've noticed that a lot of sag moons are not aware of their cycle which can definitely be responsible for unexpected pregnancies. nonetheless, their pregnancy + motherhood is something they ended up being excited about. they could have had a "fuck it, we ball" mentality because realistically speaking, such is life. lack of preparation could have led to instability in your mother's life while she was pregnant + even after giving birth, bouncing around from place to place. sagittarius moon mamas usually have a youthful + humorous personality, being able to relate with their children + make them laugh. it can be hard to take a sagittarius moon mother seriously because they're usually deemed as the "cool moms" that are very lenient with their children. they can often struggle with disciplining their children because of their own free-spirit nature. if your mother didn't prioritize structure + routine while raising you, it's possible that you downloaded that naturally chaotic, fiery, and unpredictable energy that she also has. sagittarius moon mamas need to be able to teach their children that there are consequences to their actions so that their kids don't end up getting in trouble later on in life or even dangerous situations. hold your own mother accountable for her actions + don't be afraid to put her in her place! she has a lot to learn from her experience as a mother, which includes listening to the ones that she birthed.

capricorn moon: capricorn moon mothers usually have children later on in life (not always though) - either way, the universe granted them their babies when they were ready + prepared to take on this mission as a mother. before motherhood, capricorn moon mommies could have performed the motherly role in other ways (eldest sister, nursing/doctor/healer career, etc etc) so this is not their first rodeo. capricorn moons get a reputation for being cold + stern, which is how they may come across but really they are just not about the bullshit + they take their role as a mother very seriously. they recognize how serious motherhood is and therefore you are going to respect the fuck out of your capricorn mother, even if you don't agree with some of the things that she has tried to instill in you. capricorn moon mothers are focused on legacy + will do her best to make sure that she raises well-rounded children, setting them up for success. so if you have the kind of mother that has tried to shove education + career down your throat, it's because she just wants you to be successful. they also may struggle with being in their feminine energy, especially if your mother is the provider in the house so as her child, you should encourage her to do some therapeutic activities with you to ease some of that stress. though she takes her role as a mother very seriously, there is no denying how stressful the role is on her + can really take a toll on her physical body. if she's open to it because i know how traditional capricorn moons can be, i highly recommend going to therapy together in order to unpack + heal some of those deep seated emotional blockages that can really help to improve + strengthen the family unit.

aquarius moon: these are the unorthodox mothers. the mothers that have instilled confidence in their children from a very early age. your mother may have gotten pregnancy at an awkward time in her life, therefore she realized that she had to start getting real strategic around here to ensure success for this nu era in her life. with an aquarius moon mother, there may have been some distance between you two, whether it be physical or emotional distance. i've noticed that people with aquarius moon mothers were raised by their grandparents or were adopted + don't really know their mother like that (along with pisces moon mamas). if your mother was present throughout your entire upbringing, you may have noticed that she was preoccupied with other tasks such as showing up for her tasks in the real world. there could be strain between you and your mother because you may have felt like she could have paid more attention to you. regardless of how your relationship with your mother manifested, you more than likely came out to be very independent + confident enough to march to the beat of your own drum. these are the moms that started cursing in front of their kids since they were babies. because aquarius moon mamas are very independent themselves, you could have felt like your aquarius moon mama robbed you of your childhood because you too had to learn how to become independent + self-reliant from a young age, resulting in inner child wounds. because the relationship that you have with your mother is not like the traditional mother-child relationship, she can come off more like a friend or an older sister, also resulting in mother wounds because of that lack of motherly nurturance that the child craves + needs. learning to become emotionally vulnerable + transparent with your mother is a theme in order to evolve the relationship. validate where you feel like she may have lacked while also respecting the fact that she did the best that she knew how to. she needs you as someone to hold her ego accountable.

pisces moon: similar to the aqua moon mom, your mother may have been there, but also not "there". there could have been a period in your life where your mother was not physically present + you had to be raised by someone other than her (grandparents, foster care, aunts/uncles, etc). your mother may not have been in the most ideal situation when she got pregnant with you + pregnancy could have also been a karmic consequence for not listening to her intuition. regardless, when she knew she was pregnant, there was no way she could give up the opportunity to be a mother. if your mom was physically away from you, she was always there in spirit, praying for you + making sure that you are spiritually protected even if it's just by asking the powers that be to watch over you. like the other water moons, pisces moon mama may have had a traumatic relationship with their mother + may have transferred over that pain into the relationship that you've had with your mom. having a pisces moon mommy is not for the weak, especially if she didn't do her due diligence of karmic clean up, leaving it for you to take responsibility for. pisces moon mamas may also avoid the accountability + the responsibility of being a mother because the weight of motherhood is just too heavy, especially if she has lack of support, which often times they do. regardless of how your relationship is with mom, the energetic bond runs so deep as you are strongly karmically bound in order for certain karmic missions to be completed. definitely not the most reliable mom, but at the end of the day, it will forever be all love when it comes to her children. it's best to just accept her as is - whatever has transpired is not your fault, but it is your responsibility to do better for your own life.

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alexa-crowe · 3 years

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Hey, loaf! Based on that post from the other day, would you be up for writing something where Scully finds out she is infertile in s2?

Yeah, I can do that for you, loaf. 💓 I definitely took this prompt and ran away with it kjsdhfjsdhf. The first section fulfills the prompt but the rest leads into an AU because I decided that I don’t want to hurt my Scullybaby <3.

Branched

The doctors all agreed that once her body readjusted, her menstrual cycle would follow suit. It was irregular before due to birth control but she’s been off it since she was... Scully hates to even think the word. It’s been months since Mulder stopped looking at her as if a simple hand on her back could break her, and her menstrual cycle isn’t even irregular—she just doesn’t have one anymore.

It’s baffled all the doctor’s she’s seen. Scully writes it off as an effect of whatever experiments were done to her and accepts her doctors’ conclusions that there’s nothing to be done about it unless she’s interested in having children.

The idea hasn’t crossed her mind much, aside from a distant yearning when she’s with her godson. She always assumed that she’d have kids one day after she fell in love with the right guy. Scully doesn’t know what she wants for her future anymore. All she knows is that she wants justice, and she wants the truth—both for herself and for Mulder.

Her newfound infertility is...something. She doesn’t want more pity. If she was stifled after her—if she was stifled before, Scully can only imagine that if she tells Mulder and her family that she can’t get pregnant it’ll be worse. The—what happened to her is something she can move on from, but this is not.

—

She’s experiencing early menopause, her doctor declares. It seems so final. She cries herself to sleep and goes into work the next day as if the shards of her future haven’t been ground to dust.

Though she’d tried not to give any of this much thought, she’d somehow assumed that the chip had been inhibiting the release of her ova for an unknown reason—maybe propagation is counterintuitive to Their agenda, who knows—but to find out that she didn’t have any, that all her chances at motherhood were gone... It’s a grief unlike any other.

—

Allentown. The name sends shivers down her spine if she so much as thinks of it. Flashes of her abduction (say it say it say it, don’t let them control you, you’re stronger than the trauma) and the knowledge that all the women at the MUFON meeting had chips and fertility issues and cancer... She takes off the next day and books an appointment with an oncologist.

The scans come back negative. The women said it could take up to two years to appear, though. Scully prays to God that it never happens.

—

She’ll never be a mother. Some days it hits harder than others. Some days she wishes that she could lay her head down and wake up in a world where she and Mulder have the lives they always wanted. She feels so violated and so disrespected, some days. On those days, she lashes out at Mulder, tries to leave him and this life of lies behind, but she can’t.

He’s not someone she can just walk away from.

These are the days that she smokes. These are the days that she calls up Ellen and asks for all the gossip she’s amassed. These are the days she gets drunk over the phone with her friend and spills secrets that no one else gets to know. Trent’s turning eight, Danes. I’m infertile, El. It’s funny how the person she sees the least knows the most about what’s happened to her.

These are also the days when she hits the town and drinks until she forgets. Sometimes she’ll go home with someone for the night and leave early in the morning, Mulder on her mind. He doesn’t know. He can’t know. It would break him even though it’s not about him, even though it’s not his fucking life.

—

She wakes up to a nosebleed and prays to God that he’ll give her a few more months to live. Just until Mulder’s ready, she thinks, tears running down her face as she holds a wad of tissues to her nose. Just until he’s ready to let go. He’s been such a constant in her life, such a tether. When things get bad, they go their separate ways, but they always come back to each other and find their balance.

It makes sense for him to be the first person to see confirmation of her cancer. It feels like the final blow. First, they take away her ability to make life, and then they take away her own life. She’s made her peace with it.

Mulder hasn’t—he refuses to do so. Standing there in the hospital hallway days later, Scully lets herself love him. His lips are soft against her chapped ones and her edges feel burned and frayed, but his love keeps her together.

“I found something, Scully,” he murmurs when their kiss has faded into an embrace with her head on his chest.

Her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I found your ova.” There’s so much going on in that four letter sentence that it bowls her over.

“You—you did?”

“I took as many vials as I could and got them into a freezing container. I shipped them off to the Gunmen before I came here. They can keep them safe for when you get better.”

Scully’s chin starts to tremble and she presses her face into Mulder’s chest. “What if I never do?”

He cups her cheeks and gently makes her face him. “I won’t let that happen.”

She wants to believe him with all her heart. “I want to believe...” she whispers, a tear streaking down her cheek.

“Give me your fear,” he tells her, “and believe. I need you to believe.”

She nods against his chest.

—

Scully cries when she gives him the news of her remission, pulling Mulder into her embrace and showering his head with kisses and thank yous. He’s given her a second chance at life, but more than that, a chance at motherhood.

(“Dana, I have excellent news for you: your cancer is shrinking. You’re going into remission.” And then, when the shock and the joy had run their immediate courses: “It also seems that, in due time, your menstrual cycle will resume, so no worries on that end.”)

It’ll be months before she can truly start the process but she already feels lighter than ever before.

—

She waits a week after her return to work to ask him. They’re at his apartment, Scully curled against him as the movie’s credits roll. “Mulder,” she whispers, checking to see if he’s asleep.

“Hm?” He rolls his head to crack his neck.

“Will you make a baby with me?”

He looks down at her, eyes wide. “What?”

“I’ve been seeing a fertility doctor, a friend of mine. She’s examined the ova—along with several of her colleagues—and declared them viable.” Scully can’t keep the tremulous smile off her face as she gives him the news. “She said that I just have to secure a donor to begin the treatment plan. I want that donor to be you. I mean, you practically threw yourself at me in Home last year...”

She traces her finger along the back of his hand, looking away to give him some space. After a moment, he says, “You want me to...to be part of that equation?”

Scully takes a deep breath and sits up so that their faces are level, shaking her head. “I want to have kids with you.” She maneuvers one leg between his thigh and the arm of the couch so she’s straddling him, and sits down on his thighs. “I want you to be the father of my kids.”

Mulder gazes at her like a lost puppy until she reaches out to wipe away a tear trailing along his cheek. “Me?”

She nods and cups his cheeks. “You.”

He nods with her, a smile spreading across his lips. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Yeah.”

They’ve been reduced to monosyllabic words in their joy, giving up on words all together as they fade into deliriously happy teary-eyed laughter. Scully leans forward and kisses him.

—

To no one’s surprise and Bill’s chagrin, she tugs Mulder along to her family’s Christmas gathering at her brother’s place in San Diego. Emily’s existence only reaffirms their decision to do IVF together and their relationship. They’ve been more of a team than ever, and perhaps that’s what saves Emily in the end.

Mulder and Scully put off all the major changes they were planning to make in favor of giving Em time to adjust to her new life. She clings to them until she gets familiarized with everything, until “Dana” and “Mul’er” phase into “Mommy” and “Daddy”.

He learns how to make chocolate chip pancakes with his eyes half-closed at six in the morning. They both learn car seats like the back of their hands. They get used to this new life where the only reason they wake up in the middle of the night is to comfort their daughter and not board a red-eye flight for a case.

—

Scully’s known that Mulder’s a thorough person when he wants to be since they met. What she didn’t know is that he’s also extremely sappy. He kisses her frequently for no reason in the office, and his porn mag collection has been replaced by a stack of books on IVF and pregnancy and childhood developmental stages. He has a calendar tacked to the wall next to his door with all the important dates on it.

They tell Skinner about their relationship and the IVF in confidence, filling him in on all the relevant things to their decision to leave the X-Files. The department must go on, but they can’t be the ones to breath life into them with Emily and a baby. Skinner says he knows “some excellent agents” that can fill their roles.

Mulder goes with her to every appointment, even if he can only sit outside in the waiting room until he’s called in. He holds her hand during every comprehensive pregnancy test that’s done, and kisses away her tears when they come back negative.

They look at apartments together when they find the time between Emily and their new assignments, and sometime between moving in and starting Em with her new pre-school, something wonderful happens. When the test comes back positive, they both start crying at the clinic.

“Mulder...”

“Scully...”

—

“You’re really okay with passing on the torch?” she asks in bed that night once Emily’s sacked out.

He nods against her forehead, his hand on her belly. “I’ve spent my whole life looking for Samantha, but I’ve never let her move on. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe she’s dead. Maybe I’ll never find out. But I can’t pursue the answer to the question of what happened to her at the cost of everything else. You’re the one who taught me that there’s more to life than trying to solve mysteries.”

Scully nuzzles his nose. “You taught me something, too.”

“Oh?”

“You taught me how to have the courage to believe.”

#mine #txf #fanfiction #bryony you asked for something simple and i gave you a wholeass au 😭😭#hdsjskshjdd i couldn’t help it

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tomishaped · 3 years

Text

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence • Major Character Death

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Supernatural

Relationship:

Dean Winchester!Izzy Hlton

Characters:

Dean Winchester • Izzy Hilton • Sam Winchester • Asmodeus • Dagon • Demons • Hellhound • Ellen Harvelle • Jo Harvelle • Hunters • Crowley • Charlie Bradbury • Bobby Singer • Ruby • Death • Pestilence • Famine • War • Castiel • Angels • Cain

Additional Tags:

Demon Dean Winchester • Demon Sex • Kidnapping • Gay Sex • Blood • Blood Kink • Hate Sex • Love/Hate • Major Character Injury • Major Original Character(s) • Character Death • Past Child Abuse • Past Rape/Non-con • Past Sexual Abuse • Past Torture • Past Violence • Canon-Typical Violence • Violence • Protective Dean Winchester • Bisexual Dean Winchester • Top Dean Winchester • Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings • Izzy is too • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Emotional/Psychological Abuse

Summary: After being pulled out of hell Dean realizes quickly that the four months he had been gone made way for a lot of changes in the lives of everyone he knows, including the life he had known for himself before he died. Nobody was treating him the same, and there was seriously something going on with his brother that he could not figure out. He was spending most of his time alone nowadays, not really hunting anymore since Bobby and Sam were against it for him, and spending most of his time drinking instead to try and forget. He was angry, pretty much all the time. That anger really worked in his favour though when walking back to the impala he came across a freaking hoard of demons getting ready to attack some blond chick. He didn't know who she was or what the hell all the demons wanted with her, but there was no way he could just walk away. Maybe if he had any idea what trying to save this person was going to lead too he would have just walked away, maybe if he had actually given any thought to the situation before him he wouldn't have put himself in the middle of it, but even before hell he made impulsive and rash decisions... so maybe not.

Previous Chapters

• Chapter One •

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Two: Welcome to the Batcave

Part One

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they had reached the car Dean made quick work of the door locks and got them both inside before he punched it, only leaving squealing tires and smoke behind them as they took off. Dean didn’t start to relax till they were a mile or so away from the group of demons, still keeping an eye on the mirrors though just in case. “You really pissed someone off," he said with a grin as he glanced over at the other while he drove.

Izzy did manage to force himself to relax once they were in the car, though Dean still happened to look tense with the way he was looking out his mirrors for someone. Honestly, it probably helped the demon to relax with the fact that Izrael couldn't feel Dagon as close anymore. She was either losing interest or losing track of them for now, either way that worked for him. "Huh?" He was honestly confused at first when Dean said that, "Why would you think I pissed some- oh! Because of all that? Right. Yeah. They don't seem to fond of me, do they? I should probably stop crashing into their parties like that."

Izrael shifted in the seat a little and rolled his eyes when he saw the man look out his mirrors again, "You can stop doing that now. We're fine, mommy lost us," he said with a shrug, leaning back in the seat again, trying to get comfortable. He was ready to get out of the Winchesters car now, and he would really like to do it without having to kill the hunter next to him in order to keep him from following or trying to track him. Even if he didn't have an issue with killing humans, he didn't know which way Dean's soul would go now and having it back in the pit after he killed him could possibly become… problematic. "So uh, yeah, you can just drop me off whenever now and can go get back too… whatever the hell you were doing before joining me at that lovely party tonight. I'm actually supposed to be at a different party right now anyways, so anywhere is good."

Dean snickered when the other said that they had crashed a few parties, it made sense. He did raise an eyebrow when he was told that the horde had backed off of them. Granted he hadn’t noticed any one but still, he never trusted demons to give up. “To be honest, I was out looking for a good time… guess I found it,” he said with a wicked grin, still feeling a bit of an adrenaline high from the fight and sprint to the car. “Rest of my evening is open if you want some back up,” he offered the blond. “Not saying you can’t handle yourself, I saw your moves back there but… twenty to one is a bit much,” he said while giving him a bit of a doubtful side look.

This is what Dean thought of as a good time? The human was either suicidal or crazy. Sure, Izzy did have fun doing shit like this too, but he was a demon- he was fucking crazy. "Mmm, yeah… it was a bit much till you showed up. Definitely would have ended up losing this jacket," Izrael laughed a little at Dean and shook his head, "See, I haven't gone and learned my lesson yet it seems since I'm definitely gonna be crashing one of their parties again. Gotta find it first though, and I can't do that in a strangers car."

Dean raised an eyebrow when the blond mentioned that they weren’t done yet and was looking to start a similar party to where he just found them. Ok sure he had been doing stupid stuff since he got back but he had an excuse. He was trying to repress what felt like forty years of Hell - literal Hell. So what was this kid's excuse? She might be crazy, but her crazy was also kinda hot and hunters like this don’t tend to stick in one place long because of the next big hunt. Besides, too often if they stayed in one place for long then all the enemies they made along the way had a tendency to catch up to them. “I can drop you off wherever your next party is so you don’t get jumped on the way again…” Dean trailed off a little as he drove, “could at least tell me your name before you get yourself killed.”

Izrael smiled at the hunter. "Why would I give someone I've never met in this life my name? Doesn't sound too smart. Besides, I don't see you passing over that information either."

Dean grinned. “Sorry, thought you picked it up before things got hairy. Names Dean, Dean Winchester," he said as he held a hand out to shake as he drove, glancing at the blond but mostly keeping his eyes on the road. “You know demons can’t keep their big mouths shut, if your next party is anything like that one, they’re going to be ready for you and you’re going to lose more than your jacket, sweetheart," he said in a matter of fact tone. “Might be a better idea to show up with back up and armed to the teeth,” he offered with a mischievous grin. “Lucky for you I know the perfect place.”

His excuse? His absolute only memories were of hell. Turning into a demon the way he had had wiped out all his human memories and the little demon only knew the last sixty years he had spent in hell training to do just this. He wasn't trying to repress hell, why repress when it was all he knew? He was just doing what Asmodues sent him off to do, and with the youngest prince of hell being the closest person to the blond and having nothing else to really do… he listened. He enjoyed killing other demons, it was a task he found fun. But when your job is to kill any demon that stands against the man you're working for, you don't exactly make any friends. And being alone only gave him more time to hunt down Asmodues's enemies. It was a vicious never ending cycle that wasn't going to change anytime soon as far as Izrael could tell. Hell either hated him, feared him, or admired him from afar - very afar. No one was brave enough to chance getting on Izzy's bad side. And those that were like the hoard tonight that actually tried to kill him were just too stupid to stay away and deserved to die anyways as far as he was concerned.

Of course he knew who Dean was once he heard his name. But the hunter didn't need to know that Izrael had heard of him. He eyed the other’s hand for a moment before he sighed and half gave in to the man, though didn't reach his own hand out, "Izzy Hilton," he said, using the name that Asmodues had given him for when he had to pretend to be human. Though he had no idea that it actually was his name. That Asmodues called him Izrael to see if any of the once nineteen year old’s memories would spark with little clues like that. It never did. "They're always on the lookout for me… wouldn't be anything new…" he said with a little shrug, getting the gut feeling that this hunter was not about to let him go off on his own anytime soon. The last thing the little demon needed was to do spend time with a fucking Wincester, especially the one that spent all that time in hell. "No offense, but I don't really work with others. Thanks for the help back there and everything, but you're Dean Winchester… so you and I working together is a bad idea. Trust me."

With both hands back on the wheel, Dean snorted when Izzy said that demons watching out was nothing new. He understood that, that's what made the Bunker so beautiful. It was the definition of a safe house for spooky shit and basically everything else. He sucked some air between his teeth when it seemed the other knew who he was by name, having heard some of the stuff hunters thought of him while he was putting in time at the Roadhouse. “Fair, I mean we did just meet and I also just saved your ass from a fucking gaggle of demons, but okay,” he said, half joking. “We don’t know each other, and inviting you to my secret Men of Letters bunker can seem a little Silence of the Lambs but I promise, imma damn puppy dog compared to your normal party guests,” he said,. Ane yes, he did just name drop the Men of Letters to see if that helped his case. Dean wasn’t a creep and if Izzy wanted out he’d drop them off wherever they wanted but all horn-dog habits aside, he wouldn’t rest well if he did. He’d probably end up asking around and looking into this pretty Izzy Hilton to see what her story was about. “Again, I know bunker can be off putting, but this place is huge, over twenty bedrooms to pick from. It’s armed to the teeth so nothing is getting in. I have one of the few keys to get in but you can get out whenever you like,” he added, trying to seem a little less kidnappy and rapey. “That and there's a hundred year old whiskey collection.”

Izzy had absolutely zero ideas of what other hunters thought of the man he was currently sitting next too. Up until now, he had done a really good job at avoiding them in his travels and work. Sure, to be on the safe side he did do some research on hunters who seemed to be the biggest threats but until now he hadn't actually met any of them. So, right now he couldn't figure out if it was just bad fucking luck that Dean Winchester happened to walk in on his ambush, or some weird good luck to get him out of it unharmed. Even after over fifty years as a demon, almost sixty now maybe? He honestly had never actually hurt a human. So did he deserve this kind of bad luck? On the other hand though, can demons actually have good luck? It was really confusing.

Fact was, Izzy only knew of Dean Winchester from the mouths of other demons. His research on hunters in general was by word of mouth in hell. It wasn't like there were any books he could read on them. So he knew the man was obviously a good hunter, and not just when it came to demons. He knew the idiot sold his soul to save that dumbass brother of his that was hanging around one of the main demons on his own hit list. It was just really hard to get to the bitch when she was being protected by the hunter drinking demon blood. He only knew that from actually running across her once, he could fucking smell the demon blood radiating from the human she was with and it didn't take long to figure out who that human was and what fucking Ruby was doing with him. Little Sammy Winchester. Lovely. He also knew the man next to him spent what was like forty years in hell, being tortured for most of them by fucking Alastair. It had come as a surprise when he heard that there was some sort of angel watching out for him. Well, the angel part wasn't really known when he figured it out. It was just known that the man was pulled out of hell and Izrael knew that an Angel was the only way the man could have escaped hell and returned to his body the way he had. And really, he would prefer to avoid angels. Most demons weren't really that much of a threat to him. They could likely hurt him but Izzy was not easy to actually kill. Not that they had quite figured that out yet. But he had no idea what an angel might be able to do to him.

Izrael couldn't remember his own torture. He actually had no idea it even happened. Ever since the day Asmodues found his newly turned demon in that cage he kept his pet in, the youngest prince acted as though that was the first day of Izzy's life. He didn't even know that he was in that cage because of that man in the first place. "I'm not afraid of you, Dean, even though I'm pretty damn sure you're no puppy dog," Izzy told him with a little roll of his eyes, the man who had spent his last few years in hell torturing other souls was far from a puppy. But he had caught Izzy's attention mentioning the Men of Letters. He vaguely remembered Asmodues mentioning them decades ago. Something about them being all dead now… about them holding knowledge no one else had. Going to this bunker… could prove useful if the knowledge thing was true.

Izzy finally looked over at Dean again, tucking hair behind his ears, "Well whiskey is always a very good and tempting offer," he said, chewing on his lip a little as he thought it over. "If you're all armed like you say you are… Do you also have books and shit? Like, books on demons and shit." Izzy knew he had been turned differently than almost every other demon that existed, he had to have been to have his own body and no ability whatsoever to jump from one meatsuit to the next, but he had no idea what happened to make him this way. And no book he had found since being set loose on the world had been able to give him the answer he was looking for. If this bunker had hidden knowledge it might be his best bet to find out how he turned, because Asmodues wasn't telling him anytime soon. "And I really wouldn't have to just stay if I don't want to. I can just walk out? Seriously?"

Dean just grinned when the other said he was pretty sure he wasn’t a puppy, calling him out like that. And he believed them when they said that they weren’t scared of him, he did find her in the middle of a demon infested alleyway in the middle of the night. His grin grew when Izzy seemed to be mulling the thought over. He raised an eyebrow and chanced a longer glance at the other when he was asked about books. That he hadn’t been expecting, didn’t peg her for a book type. There might be something they were looking for specifically that the old bats had locked away. He would definitely be doing an inventory check but hey it sounded like they were coming around to the idea. A new face and alone time might do him some good, even if they don't get handsy and this Izzy turned out to be a gigantic book worm.

“Like I said you need a magic key to get in but getting out isn’t a problem, locks behind you but I gotta warn you the cell service sucks,” he said with a smile. He altered his route and started out of town and toward the bunker. The long ride was pretty much silent after that, Dean was honestly a bit too nervous to say something and have the blond change her mind about coming. He couldn't help wanting to help her, wanting to figure her out at least a little. From wanting to protect the little thing and knowing that he would just worry about them at this point. “Just don’t take anything, alright? Not really supposed to take people to the BatCave but…” he trailed off with a shrug after he parked by the bunker, obviously making an exception for the blond right now.

Izzy shrugged when he mentioned cell service, that meant pretty much nothing to him. Of course he knew what a cell phone was, he had been in this world long enough. But he never felt the need to get one. Who the hell was he gonna call? "No big deal, no cell phone. I was serious, I've never worked with someone else before. Never felt the need to get one," he shrugged, as little like it was normal or something to not have a cell this day and age. He honestly didn't actually know either way though. "And I don't plan on taking anything. I've got my own weapons and shit. Just… looking for a little info is all. If you happen to have a book with what I want to know, well, then I won't really need it anymore once I read it." He ignored the Bat Cave comment for the moment, not wanting to let the hunter next to him realize he actually understood the reference. He especially didn't want him to know he found it amusing.

Dean decided to leave Baby in a little hidden knook they made for when they didn’t plan on staying long and putting her in the very nice garage. He just grinned as they walked up to the old green doors after grabbing a bag from the trunk and he pulled it open for the other. Once past the first threshold Dean unlocked the second doors and stepped through, holding it open for the other. “This is the legacy of the Men of Letters, a bit old and dusty but we’re still fixing the place up.” he said as they made their way down the spirling, metal staircase. He walked past the light up map table and tossed his bag on the first long table in the library. “Wanna tour?” he asked as he turned to the other, smiling at them.

He just wanted a fucking book that explained how humans became demons. Without their souls spending hundreds of years tortured in hell. Asmodues had no choice but to tell him that he turned differently than everyone else when he realized he couldn't just jump from meat suit to meat suit like everyone else could. His soul never left his body, something in him changed while he was still a human. But that was all Asmodues would say on the subject. Honestly it was the one thing about the man who called himself Izzy's master that drove him absolutely insane. He didn't care so much about whatever his human life was since he couldn't miss what he didn't remember or had any sort of idea what it might have been like, but he did want to know why he turned into a demon. Was he evil in his previous life? Is that how it worked? He remembered someone once saying that he must have cracked to change the way he did, but cracked from what and how? He just wanted to know how the fuck he came into existence. What made him so different from other demons. Why even Dagon, who knew that Izzy couldn't kill her without that oh so special gun, feared him to some extent. And nothing he had found so far explained any of that shit. Was he a bookworm? Mmm, debatable. Ask any demon who knew him they'd say no,, but Izzy was really good at keeping things about himself pretty damn secret. The less people knew the less they had on you and the safer you were. But the truth was that he did love books, loved to read and learn. And now that he wasn't under Asmodues' thumb at all times and had a mission to carry out, he was able to use research for said mission as an excuse to read. Sure, he was actually doing research but for so much more than anyone actually knew.

Izzy was a bit unsure following Dean into the bunker when they got there. This could be a really, really stupid idea. But on the other hand… he was going to have info on the Winchester's no one else could possibly dream of having and he might get a few other answers out of this as well so he followed along. He looked around as Dean led him through the place, tilting his head and letting a confused little look cross his face as he tilted his head back to see the ceiling, "Uh, sure, if you want. So, do you keep the bats in some special room or something? I kinda just pictured them all over the place."

Her not havung a phone probably should have set off more red fags then it did because even if you were a loner it was useful to have one since pay phones were all but extinct. He tilted his own head when Izzy had mentioned bats, that had been a reaction he might have expected from Cas but really? “It’s not really a batca-... never mind. This is our fortress,” he said, just trying to get past what he felt was a painful moment. He turned on his heel and held up his arms out on either side as he gestured to the books. “This is the library. Nothing says stuffy bookworms like having a library right at the front door right?” He said with a laugh, turning completely to face the other as he walked around one of the tables.

If Izrael actually cared much about completely blending in when he was going by Izzy he probably would have gotten a cell phone. But truth be told, he didn't actually care what humans thought about him and despite Asmodues having insisted he play the part on earth he could probably count on one hand how many times he had ever used the name Izzy before. Since he usually avoided hunters he rarely ever felt the need too. So really… What was the point of carrying around a little electronic box used to call people? The only person who would ever actually want to get ahold of him had his own ways of doing so. But even Asmodues left Izzy to himself for the most part nowadays as long as he kept doing what he was told and continued to work his damnedest to keep Lucifer in his box. Though if he had realized how odd it actually was to not have one, he wouldn't have mentioned it.

Of course it wasn't actually a Bat Cave. It almost annoyed him that the hunter found it so easy to believe that the batman reference really meant nothing to the blond. Sure, part of him was glad too because he didn't want the fact that he enjoyed those comics to be known by anyone, but still… how stupid did this hunter think he really was if he believed that Izzy? He was pretty sure that Batman was popular among humans. It was the Winchester thinking he was dumb that bothered him more than anything though, because that was just not true. Izzy had always been rather smart, even before he turned, he had a near photographic memory. But with all memories of humanity gone, and those memories being from close to sixty years before anyways, all that was left was hell and the supernatural. And he figured that shit out quickly, easily. Humans, not so much. Humanity and what they were like and what they did like were never on his list of things he needed to learn about. Humans weren't his targets. "No offense, but you don't exactly strike me as the bookworm type," he said, moving around the table to go and look at the spines of the books, fingers running lightly over them. Yeah, this would definitely be his best bet at finding answers. Some of these were obviously old as fuck. "The kill first and ask questions later type. Though I suppose since all you hunters go after everything supernatural, you need the lore books, huh?" He personally didn't bother with any other supernatural beings, just the demons on Lucifer and Dagon's side. Which was probably a good thing for them, if this little demon were to ever start working as a real hunter with someone like Dean… they wouldn't stand a chance. As they had proved earlier… the two of them working on the same side had some pretty nasty consequences for those fighting against them.

Dean chuckled when Izzy said he didn’t seem like the book worm type, oh hell no that was Sammy’s department. “Yeah no, that's more my brother's thing,” he said as he walked over to the opposite wall, towards the small table with a few bottles filled clear, brown liquid and a few glasses. “I at least wait long enough to see what I'm fighting so I know how to kill it.” Dean poured them a few glasses and headed to the closest main table to the blond. He leaned against it on his hip and took a sip from his glass while he held out the other to Izzy. The other’s wording did strike him as odd though and he raised an eyebrow a little. The way he said it was just off, but Dean wanted to think Izzy was just into demons, and therefore could know some pretty useful stuff. That or maybe he was really green and thought of himself being different from regular hunters. His gut was telling him something was still off though, but he wasn’t sure what.

Izzy was glad his back was to the hunter when he mentioned his brother so he didn't see the little demon roll his eyes and scowl at the mention of that junkie who was seriously getting in his way with that bitch he was attached to. He was pretending he didn't really know much about them… which wasn't a complete lie, but he had a serious suspicion he knew something about the younger Winchester that Dean didn't. He might know about the demon bitch Sam hung out with but he highly doubted this man knew about the blood and psychic shit that boy was playing with. The psychic shit was honestly the main reason he hadn't gone after Ruby yet, he wasn't like other demons, he had no idea how Sam's little exercising shit would affect him.

“You know, you never mentioned what you were looking into. I’m guessing something demon related,” he mentioned to the other. There wasn’t much small talk on the car ride over.

He didn't say anything for a bit while Dean spoke and walked around the room, more interested in looking through the shelves of books for anything that looked promising. But he never let his guard down really, constantly aware of where Dean was around him or how close he was. He stiffened a bit when he felt Dean closer again and he asked that direct question. Izzy didn't really want to answer anything he was asked, but avoiding taking to him too much might just seem more suspicious. Fuck. He really should have paid more attention to the humans around him the last decade, he was really bad at trying to be one. "Yeah, demon related," Izzy finally said as he turned around and saw Dean holding out the whiskey he had promised. Alcohol didn't really affect him as much as it did humans unless he drank an ungodly amount so he wasn't worried about drinking at least.

He took the glass offered to him and leaned against the bookshelf behind him, shrugging his shoulder a little, "Don't know if you picked up on it during that whole ambush shit, but I kinda hunt demons. Apparently I'm pretty good at it since they don't seem to like me much at all." He took a drink from the whiskey he was given, relishing in the burn that goes down his throat. As a demon, the little blond didn't need to eat. The few times he did were few and far between and it was always for some reason he couldn't figure out, but knew he just wanted whatever the hell it was that he was trying. But he did like to drink. Alcohol that is. He liked the burn.

"Just curious what kind of people become demons and how. Always good for a guy to know everything he can about his enemies and all, yanno?" It wasn't a lie. He had actually been avoiding actually lying to the hunter. Izzy didn't like to lie, it was too hard to remember the fake information he had given to who. So the only thing he had lied about was his name, but that wasn't that big of a lie as Izzy did sound like a nickname for Izrael. Mostly, he was just leaving out details he didn't think Dean needed to know. Like the fact he was a demon and really just wanted to know how he, himself, had turned. How demons like him were made. Because as far as the books he had found about demons elsewhere knew, Cain was the only other person to become a demon this way. And almost nothing was fucking known about that man. As a matter of fact, he was the one demon who no matter how hard he tried Izzy could not fucking find. Not that he had really looked into how to find him. He didn't want to kill Cain like he did with everyone else he hunted down, he wanted answers. But even so, he knew Cain wasn't exactly like him and probably didn't have the answers he wanted. So that had just been another fucking dead end. The little blond didn't do a whole lot of shit that he actually wanted to do or something anyways, ninety percent of his time was spent following Asmodues' orders to hunt down Dagon's followers and make sure Lucifer didn't get out of that cage.

Dean nodded a little when the other confirmed that it was demon related, easy guess. “You don’t pick up that kind of attention without being a major pain in their ass,” he said with a snicker. The man's shoulders stiffened when he took another drink when Izzy said what he was looking into. What kind of people become demons. He forced back a smile and shifted a little as he tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and not let it run off with the flashbacks and nightmares he has. It felt like every time he blinked he was hit with a flash of something he’d seen or had done. He told everyone he didn't’ remember any of it and refused to talk about it and self medicated with liquor like any good hunter.

Well duh, obviously he was a pain in their asses. Two dozen of them had actually gotten together without someone in power telling them what to do to try and take him out. They failed, miserably thanks to the hunter near him right now, but it didn't negate the fact that Izzy was a huge threat to them and their plans. Really though, if the whole fucking lot of them just fucking stopped trying to set Lucifer free Izzy would have no problem leaving them alone. But until that happened…. He had a job to do. What the hell would he do with himself if Asmodeus actually managed to take the crown and this mission was over? He'd actually never thought about that before. Every single memory he had had something to do with him having to keep Lucifer in the cage.

“Well demons are mostly twisted and tortured souls. You get twisted up so much down there you turn into something else,” he said, rubbing at his brow as he fidgeted a little as he spoke. “At the end of the day they're a spirit, just nastier. You don’t normally catch one running around before they possess someone but the same tricks apply, salt and iron,” he told him, running off a few things off the top of his head, mostly from first hand experience. “I’m sure you know all about devils traps and all that,” he said, waving his hand and finally looking over at the other. It was probably a good thing Dean had been so caught up with that Izzy was looking into that he completely missed the suspicious pronoun.

Izzy couldn't help but roll his eyes at Dean when the man just told him shit he already knew. Was he actually under the impression that someone he thought was a legit demon hunter didn't know that shit already? Also. He was wrong. While holy water did have the same effect on him that it did to most demons, salt and iron actually didn't bother him for some reason. Every single voice in his head was screaming at him to keep his mouth shut for a while, to not get sucked into this conversation. But the thing was… he actually wanted to talk about this shit. He never talked with anyone about shit he actually wanted too. Demons avoided him unless they were trying to kill him, he avoided humans and hunters, and Asmodues pretty much just told him what to do. The little demon didn't actually have any memories of just talking with someone about something he was interested in. And this happened to be the biggest fucking intrest he really had right now.

"See, right there just proves you really have no fucking clue what you're actually dealing with, do you? Obviously being tortured in hell is going to fuck up any soul in some way, but not every soul in hell becomes a demon. This world would be fucked if they did. There are millions and millions of souls in hell." He only just stopped himself from pointing out that despite Dean's own torture and escapades with Alastair he didn't actually turn into a demon. No, a fucking angel actually came and pulled him from the pit. So what the hell was it that made some souls twist the same way he had even though he hadn't gone through that die and be tortured shit and made others just… well, be tortured for all eternity. Or torture as was the case with some. "Yeah, most of them are just nastier twisted spirits, and you don't normally see one walking around without someone else's meat suit… but they can. It's apparently super fucking rare for it to happen, but a human can just wake up a demon somehow. In their own skin and everything. So I want to know what makes the souls that twist that way different from those that don't. What kind of person they must have been. And what happens to those people who turn? How does that happen? But unfortunately, because it's so fucking rare, I haven't been able to find a single book in the last ten years that actually explains that shit." He sighed a little in frustration at the thought before just shaking his head and finishing the rest of his own drink before he turned his back to Dean again to start looking through the books again, waving his own hand in dismissal of the subject. Dean wasn't going to have the answers he wanted obviously. "But yes, of course I know all about devils traps. I just don't use them." He couldn't if he wanted too, not unless he wanted to get stuck inside one himself. Besides, even if he could… with the way he hunted, it would be pretty damn useless and time consuming to try since it was usually a sneak attack/ambush of his own on their own grounds. Wasting time with a devils trap when it was just so much easier to kill them just seemed stupid. "Do you have any sort of order with these books or am I gonna have to look through all of them to find the ones about demons?"

Dean was a little taken back when Izzy said that he had no clue about demons. He felt anger rise up in his belly and his face tightened some. His pride didn’t like that but the built up emotion subsided the more Izzy spoke. He did have a point, if that’s all it took then Hell would be nothing but demons. He never really focused on the fine details, he just killed them. His face became a mix of surprises and doubt when Izzy kept going and told him about the type of demons that keep their bodies. What the hell? He’d never heard of something like that before, what the hell could it be capable of? It was a worrying thought. “This keeps getting better and better,” Dean muttered under his breath. He couldn't stop his brain from thinking about his younger brother on his road trip with his little demon buddy. What if that was Ruby's plan, twist his brother into one of them? He’d fucking gank that bitch before she could try. He wanted to call and check up but that hadn’t gone so well last time.

He made a small face when Izzy asked about an order to the crazy amount of information. He finished his half glass of whiskey and pushed off of the table, setting the glass down before walking away. “I have a feeling what we’re looking for isn’t in here, come on,” He said, motioning the other to follow him with a head nod. He led the blond down the hall a bit, through another doorway and down some stairs. He pushed one of the two heavy doors open and held it open for the other hunter. “When we started going through the stuff that was left here we found that most of the heavy reading books are in here,” He told him. The room was about 25 by 25 feet, metal shelving lined all the walls filled with books and some jars. There was a decent sized table in the middle of the room under the only light, taking up a good chunk of the free space.

Dean just nearly kidnapped the little blond he helped out that he knew nothing about other than the fact he could kill demons pretty damn well and brought him to his secret bunker and he thought anything that came out of this idea wouldn't be completely fucked? Hell. He was pretty damn sure that Dean didn't even realize yet that he hadn't stepped in to help a pretty little girl, but actually a boy who just happened to look a lot like one. Add on to that fact that this boy was also one of those freaky ass demons he was just talking about and you could see clearly that this man definitely hadn't thought this through. "You have no idea," Izzy mumbled back, not sure or honestly even caring if Dean heard him.

Izzy set down the glass still in his hand before he shrugged again and followed Dean through the bunker. Fuck. This place really was huge. Izzy couldn't help but grin a little when he looked into the room. Dark. Enclosed. No way for anyone to try and sneak up on him again. Exactly the kind of rooms he liked and usually worked in when he was looking for a party to crash. "Awesome," he said as he walked in the room. Creepy jars and big old books lining the walls on top of everything else, Izzy had instantly and probably noticeably relaxed more when he was in the room that was so much like a place he would actually want to be in. He didn't say anything else as he started scanning the books on one of the shelves, his eyes widening some when he saw what he instantly felt like he had been looking for for years now. It was smaller than any of the other books in here, but that wasn't surprising considering how little information there probably was at all on demons like him. Humans Turning Demon.

Izzy grabbed the book off the shelf and took a few steps backwards to push himself up to sit on the table, just remembering that Dean was there as he went to open the book. "Uhm… thanks," he said, forcing himself to remember that he was supposed to be a human and actually used to having someone around and even weirder for him- that someone helping him. "Hey… uh, why are you being so like… nice and normal to me? As far as I've seen, people aren't just nice to strangers. Especially when said stranger is a pretty boy who can shove a knife into a human skull."

Dean noticed the small change in the others' demeanor when he showed them the room. The room didn’t bother him or his brother too much but ‘awesome’ wasn’t the normal reaction to this stuff. Though in this line of work, who’s really normal? You see a lot of weird and horrible shit fast and you pick up a few quirks along the way. He had half turned when the other called out to him and thanked him, he was going to leave Izzy alone to do their digging. He raised an eyebrow when he was asked why he was being so helpful. He opened his mouth with a grin to say it was just the right thing to do for a lady when Izzy said that last part, his words luckily getting caught up in his throat. BOY!? WHOLY FUCK!! Dean’s back straightened as he looked the other over again. It took him a second or two to catch himself and he cleared his throat out a little. “Well you want demons dead and I want demons dead,” he said with a shrug, his brain still trying to absorb this enlightening new detail about the blond. “And I learned about a new fleshy kind of demon, win win,” Dean chuckled. Hell all of Dean seemed stiff. Right now, he honestly didn’t know what the fuck to do.

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monkey-network · 4 years

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The Fiasco Finale of Future [1/2]

So in the penultimate episode of Steven Universe 2, the climax of both the season and series as a whole... is a group hug. As I expected, plenty were not too pleased with this turnout. Some felt it was anti-climatic, some felt it was resonating, and others tried to own the critics by digging deep into the scene like they always do sucking this show’s co- Coming from nearly a month later, I’m... split. One hand, I didn’t mind the climax. On the other hand, it was pathetic compared to plenty of other finales I’ve seen in media. It’s like this show as a whole, I enjoy it, but I also enjoy smacking it upside the head cuz it made some Karen-esque, All Lives Matter type stupid shit that I just cannot get behind. So you know what, Perry the Platypus, let’s mix it up. I wanna express the good and bad of this climactic end to the show and see where we can go from there. You ready?

What’s Good:

You truly wanna know what makes that final hug a great scene? A real showstopper? I have the truth, the best truth behind this, you won’t believe me but here goes. The climax worked because A Hug Is Nice. That’s it, there’s nothing else to it beyond a hug being nice. “But Monkey, you incel troll, there’s should’ve been more to that. The episode shouldn’t have taken that long to get to that point.” Well, in typical fashion, let me put it this way by talking about Spider-Man 2 (better than Spiderverse, don’t @ me). The whole movie is centered around Peter’s life getting shat on. He’s getting fired left and right, his people are abandoning him, he even loses his powers, he’s just at his utter lowest. But at his apartment, while contemplating, in comes his landlord’s daughter, Ursula, who offers him some chocolate cake and a glass of milk.

We can say the scene comes out of nowhere and that this is all that happens, feeling pointless, but I say this is an important scene because after everything that happens to him before, this one gesture from somebody out of nowhere to be honest was one of the nicest things he’s received in a while. It’s the seedling of a scene that keeps Parker going before Doc Ock comes to make him truly spring back into action. Above everything, it was nice. Like a hug.

I don’t need to be philosophically deep with SU2′s meta to tell you that a hug can be a worthwhile thing to get more than anything. It doesn’t resolve all the baggage Steven has in his mind, but a group hug from the people closest to you (and the Diamonds) can be a gesture so nice, it can numb you out, if only for a moment. Only other times where Steven got a hug was when he felt everything could be okay. With Lars, Peridot, and Connie after her “rejection”, and it’s after that “rejection” where he slowly loses it in his attempts to shake off that harsh feeling of abandonment and that everything can be okay. It is something where he can turn to the others for help but the concern of their response makes him reasonably suffer in silence. That last part is a little dumb, but I’ll get to that later. He can’t really hug himself because it doesn’t work like that. The point being that Steven, at his lowest, just needed something nice to consider. And a hug from everyone who loves him (and the Diamonds) can be that piece of chocolate cake he needed to be at ease, again, if only for a moment.

Like let me tell ya, as a deliriously depressed man that constantly wishes for death, a hug shouldn’t be spat on. Whether it be from your friends or mommy, a good hug can, at the very least, keep you sane and going. It isn’t medication, let’s not get it twisted, but a healthy remedy nonetheless, especially if you’ve ever felt touch-starved like I have before. It’s an affectionate gesture that for what it’s worth, should never be taken for granted. And while Steven could’ve well gotten this big type hug at almost any time he desired, I can at least appreciate the show for saving that at the right time. Whew. But, while the moment itself is nice, it’s predictably almost everything around it that unfortunately puts the moment in a vacuum and me with a bad taste in my mouth.

What’s Bad:

Let’s get this out the way, because I’m such a literal bastard... *inhale*

Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis.

MUSHROOM! MUSHROOM!

Congrats on those with the corrupted!steven theories who no doubt had it hard on when this horned trunk ascended, hung its head high, and beat its meaty chest with blind rage, the crewniverse certainly had the balls to go with this design and a long discussion of utilizing Monster Steven’s full potential. And if you think I’m nasty about this, hoo boy, be glad that words are all you’re seeing right now because artists no doubt had a field day potentially ruining this design for you even more. I’m surprised Tumblr’s flagging system hasn’t taken down whole posts with this. HEHEHEHAAAAAAAA!

As you can probably tell, I’m not a fan of this Diamond Dinodildo’s design (say that 5x times fast). I mean Rebecca could be as horny as she pleased with this show, but this is next level, I tell you. But seriously, it honestly sucked that this is what they came up with when it served no purpose to Steven thematically other than him being a literal peen of a monster. Said this before, but what does becoming a corrupted looking amalgamation mean to him beyond “he’s a monster”? Corrupted gems weren’t the worst things in his world, they were products of a even worse thing. Turning into a diamond like figure would’ve said something about the cycle of abuse making you not feel like yourself, but a reflection of who you not only resent more than anyone, but were the indirect causes of your newfound issues. That would’ve took his struggle in the Diamonds Days arc to its next logical extreme, and brought most of Future’s episodes centered around Steven’s issues to a sensible turning point. Being a warped Diamond version of himself would’ve meant finally embracing inhumanity, and that would’ve conveyed the peak of Steven harshly feeling less like a human over the course of the season, especially when we had several episodes and new powers centering around him being inhuman. And a previous episode had him try to shatter a Pink version of White Diamond, two beings generally responsible for everything that’s happened to him. And it isn’t the design that made this a turn off.

What was Steven even gonna do as a monster? He does nothing to the town, he never even makes it pass the cliffside. He doesn’t even try to attack anybody, the only times he does is when he’s provoked by either the Cluster, the Diamonds, or any of the gems. Spinel raised more hell than Steven. So on the look back it’s insultingly sad they hyped up this big dick energy only to do... genuinely nothing. He already didn’t deserve turning into Pinky the Phallisaurus, but having him not even do anything as a monster left far more to be desired. Mob Psycho 100 did this nearly identical, but better. You can’t deny that it would’ve worked better with 22 minutes, actually give him something to do beyond screech and stomp like he’s Scrat from Ice Age. As much as I don’t like Change Your Mind, 45 minutes worked to its favor to do everything it did. Oh wait, this episode did make good use of time... with a fucking pity party.

They wasted my baby

This is. The WORST scene in the entire series and I’ll stand by that 100%. It’s one thing to show something offensive, but it’s another to have something be completely pointless. Yes, Connie talked some sense into them, but we didn’t need to waste time having White Diamond and the others bitch about something everyone who isn’t a toesucking simp should’ve figured out at that point. Not like it mattered, the Diamonds and Spinel never show up after this episode anyways, so good job making them count for something, I guess. This as well as minorly acknowledge the fact that the gems had a lot to do with Steven’s mental trauma because hey, we don’t have to hold these gems too accountable for child neglect. Speaking of which, where was Jasp- This plays well into my previous point, we aren’t shown what Steven was gonna do as a monster, so what else is the episode to do beyond holding him back in time to just make the characters go “All is lost” for one second before getting back up like this is Marvel’s Captain Driftwood?

Friendship is Magic had this type of moment in its penultimate finale but in that, more time was given to show the villains getting the upper hand, Twilight at her low point, her turnaround with her friends, and the lead in charge to defeat the villains. While some moments felt convenient and downright insulting, they made the most of their limit. The same can’t be said for this and it makes no sense. Speaking of things that make no sense:

Was this shapeshifting or corruption? Rushing or dragging? This personally bothers me because people are saying he shapeshifted even when they were also on board with him corrupting. But what was the point where monster Steven cums cries into the ocean turning it pink?

Now if Steven got himself corrupted, this would make sense since the three Diamonds are there with so fully turning him back to normal wouldn’t be an issue. Questions would arise about how corruption can happen to a human, then again this is Steven Universe, fans never really wanted you to ask questions. But if this was shapeshifting, then why have this permanent monster form? It would’ve made a little more sense of Steven changing his shape depending on his emotions, like what we’ve seen before. Additionally, Steven should have been capable of talking normally instead of roaring and growling like he switched brains with an actual animal. Just because he kinned Godzilla’s joystick doesn’t mean he was unable to speak to anybody, that is if he shapeshifted. Lastly, and this is more implicit than my previous points:

This season shouldn’t have tried tacking mental issues and trauma onto this dickslap of a climax. I’m on the side where we should’ve seen more from monster Steven, but what does this tell me for the topic of mental health? Nearly killing people on three separate occasions didn’t help, but having him transform into a near mindless beast is a backhanded way to convey post traumatic stress. Let me put it this way, if we didn’t get that episode where we learn Steven had held up trauma and stress from Doctor Priyanka, everything surrounding it afterward wouldn’t feel as fucked up as it did. Yes, understanding a root of a character’s problems is good, beneficial even, but having your character nearly, sporadically, commit MURDER THREE TIMES only to then have him become a wildin’ creature does nothing, if not disgust. It's disgusting when you talk about PTS one minute and have your main character be socially dangerous the next. You’d feel sorry for him, sure, but I gotta say nearly killing people is not something we should just hand wave. That is not a good or realistic depiction of depression and post traumatic stress; especially when you trying to discuss this with children. And don’t try to justify it by saying it was necessary for his downward spiral. Having to think and see death before my own eyes in real life, there should’ve been a better way to make Steven hit rock bottom without putting other’s lives on the line. It wasn’t compelling or resonating to see him become a witless creature after saying he could get away with anything, it felt jarringly hallow and teeth gritting sadistic to think this was acceptable. It took him turning into a literal creature to finally go to therapy or a throwaway line about therapy in this show’s case? Are you kidding me?

The hug is a nice moment on its own, but it took far too many kneecaps to get to this point and think it’s believably or justly earned. I can make fun of the monster design all I want, but what they put Steven through to get to this point is the most insulting writing I ever have to think about. Because you know what that hug told me, personally? It’s that you can commit near irrefutable atrocities, you can behave like a blithering rampaging beast all you wish, but that won’t matter. Because you’re valid and your people will love you. That is not only asinine, but it kinda pissed on what I went through growing up. Like, as idealistic as that felt, it didn’t add up because it made the mentally unstable come off as more unstable than they mostly are. You can disagree all you want with this, it won’t change the baffling fact that I came to this conclusion in the first place when I didn’t want to. “But the crew said in an interv-” NO, just nope. If the message the show gives is this polarizing for those that invested or were concerned with it, maybe the message wasn’t clear enough, who knows? I can believe Mr. Rogers never fucked this up when he made his show. I tried thinking of this differently, but I can’t excuse what they did and how they did it. Bojack Horseman never pulled this with its main lead and when it truly did, that was given more time to sort out; not an 11 minute epilogue in its final moments. The hug was nice, but this episode was trash.

Speaking of which, next time...

We Finally Look to the Future

Here’s Part 2, if you’re up.

#su critical #su criticism #su critique #su #steven universe #steven universe future #su future #suf #analysis #reviews #Good Stuff #dumb #I am my monster #long post

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ofmymuses · 4 years

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welcome to PART TWO of a little surprise collab --- & click here for part one on @musehelping ‘s blog ! we decided it would be a great idea to put our creative minds together to come up with some muse ideas that are connected to a specific fc ( but feel free to use & take inspiration from these bios and match them with any fc of your liking ) ! these are also some ideas for anyone who is interested in joining our new appless & slasher-themed group MASKEDFM but aren’t sure of what type of character to bring.

so without further ado, here are a total of 05 different character ideas making a total of 11 all together.

i just wanted to quickly note beforehand --- while there are gendered words used for each person, you can - by all means - change their gender expression !

01. Virginia Gardner.

Name: Cordelia Kelly

Age: Twenty-Two.

Major: Veterinary Science.

MBTI: ESFJ.

Hogwarts: Slytherin.

Enneagram: 2w3.

Astrology: Leo Sun-Libra Moon.

Cordelia was born into a family who wanted their little girl to be a spitting image of them: kind, ambitious, a born leader. She was taught empathy, resilience & accountability ( things they considered to make a good leader ) from the second she could understand them. Cordelia didn’t take no for an answer … well, from anyone aside from her parents. She was determined to be the best; to be the type of leader you see in movies & video games. Of course, there were some downsides to seeing herself as a leader. She often came across as rather bossy & rather shrewd; although, her parents didn’t see a problem with this.

In a lot of ways, Cordelia was glad her parents brought her up the way they did. She wasn’t afraid: when someone tried to tear her down, the words simply bounced off of her. Some family members feared she would let this get to her head -- meaning she would become malicious & let pride get to her head. But Cordelia was quite the opposite. She cared for others. She enjoyed every second she spent helping others. And with doing so, Cordelia actually found a great love for animals. One of her close friends was studying animals for an art assignment, which Cordelia found a bit strange but she offered help nonetheless. After the assignment was finished, she found herself longing to do more; to help more. It didn’t even matter how, honestly. Cordelia was excited to put her heart into something bigger.

High school passed very quickly for Miss. Busy Bee. It was a rather easy decision to go to school to study Veterinary Science. It put two of her favourite things together: helping others & animals. Cordelia, now growing up & moving on in her life, would surely miss her parents and hometown but she was looking forward to the exciting wonders that are to come.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

02. Kiana Lede.

Name: Fiona Miller.

Age: Eighteen.

Major: Pre-Law.

MBTI: ESTJ.

Hogwarts: Slytherin.

Enneagram: 2w4

Astrology: Capricorn Sun-Aries Moon.

Fiona came out of her mother living her best life. Sure, it wasn’t always perfect; with the pressure of having a rather well-known brother in the picture & feeling left within his shadows most of the time. The sadness that grew because of this only fueled her to do better; her hardworking nature came in handy. And so, instead of paying mind to her brother and his achievements -- which were always seemingly better than hers -- she dove into the things she deeply enjoyed; ignoring any and all remarks that came from her family.

Fiona seemed to blossom after this. She’d spent so much of her energy worrying about being the better sibling that she had lost herself. And for the first time in a long time, Fiona felt like herself. She began watching true crime documentaries behind her parents’ back because she knew they would never allow such awful videos to be seen by her. Fiona was quickly fascinated with the likes of true crime and serial killers. Strange, she knew. But she spent most of her time wondering why, how, who?

When she originally started watching the documentaries, Fiona never imagined it would have such an impact on her life. Fresh outta high school and she was already diving head first into her college application. She was ready to learn. To defend. She was ready to make a change to anyone who never got the time of day.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

03. Jack Mulhern.

trigger warning : mentions of murder & death.

Name: Leo Gallagher.

Age: Nineteen.

Major: Criminal Justice.

MBTI: ESTP.

Hogwarts: Gryffindor.

Enneagram: 8w9.

Astrology: Aries Sun-Aries Moon.

Leo was born into tragedy. His very birth was one, some might say. With distant parents who had too many kids to care for and not enough love to spread around. And while most family members thought this lack of affection would do more bad than good for him -- he proved them wrong. Leo didn’t want anyone to feel the way he did and so, he did everything in his power to spread love, nurture and affection where he could. Not only did it make him feel good but a lot of the times, he got love in return.

( tw ) It was when Leo was 17, did things change. There was a death in his area of a young woman who was just starting to spread her wings. He was reminded a lot of himself while reading the article about her. Leo was completely heartbroken for the woman and her loved ones. And it only got worse when the trial came around. The police were completely oblivious. The judge was completely oblivious. One family was sent home free of any guilt or remorse and the other was left at a loss for words; Leo wasn’t having any of it. But he knew very well that he had no power to do much of anything as it was.

With anger fueling him, Leo knew what he wanted to do for a living. He wanted to give justice to those who the police have failed. And in doing so, he would not only be doing what he loved -- helping & ensuring others are cared for -- but he would also be doing good. Leo didn’t want another family to have to go home and wonder what could’ve been.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

04. Maxence Danet-Fauvel.

Name: Alex Dumont

Age: Twenty-Two.

Major: Fine Art.

MBTI: INFP.

Hogwarts: Ravenclaw..

Enneagram: 9w1.

Astrology: Pisces Sun-Aquarius Moon.

A man of few words since the day he was born. No one really knows why he doesn’t take a particular interest in speaking unless he needs to. It stirred up quite the concern from his parents as he was growing and developing but they realized there was nothing “wrong” with him -- Alex just simply didn’t want to talk. This made it rather hard to make friends in school; people often thought he was weird or rude for not engaging in conversation. & don’t even start with the teachers. He’d been on every one of their bad sides at least once because he didn’t participate in class discussions.

His parents never forced him to speak. Or to do anything for that matter. Alex was their miracle baby; with him showing up after years of trying & nearly giving up. They encouraged him from the sidelines -- becoming his number 1 fans. The encouragement they shared with him pushed him to tell them about his love for art. For creating. Alex found a great love for art when searching around his grandparents house for something to do & found his grandmother’s art kit. She eventually gifted it to him which only made the passion grow. This was a bit of an issue though. He’d become even more introverted -- only getting out of his house if absolutely necessary.

Alex met his best friend at a school art exhibit. She tried sparking up a conversation but realized that he wasn’t much of a talker. And instead of using words, decided to use other ways of communicating to him. She would sent him artwork, letters, poetry. It took a few weeks but Alex finally came out of his shell a little bit. His best friend helped him get out more; see the world & meet new people. They got so close that they promised to apply for the same college.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

05. Bruna Marquezine.

Name: Gabriela Santos.

Age: Twenty-Two.

Major: Elementary Education.

MBTI: ISFJ.

Hogwarts: Hufflepuff.

Enneagram: 4w3.

Astrology: Cancer Sun-Virgo Moon.

Having been born to two business-people, Gabriela found herself alone a lot of the time. She considered her nanny to be her caretaker more than her own parents. And with her parents being away so often, they thought it’d be best for Gabriela to be homeschooled -- not by them, but by the nanny. She looked up to her nanny more than anyone; more than her parents, though she’d never admit to it. It broke her heart knowing she would come home from school with no mommy or daddy waiting for a hug. They didn’t leave as much as a text either.

Some days Gabriela felt like her parents forgot about her. And then they would come home for two nights, spark hope in the girl that they wouldn’t leave, travel back to their business partners and the cycle would begin again. Her nanny, who had grown to love Gabriela as her own, felt hopeless to do anything. What could she do? Tell her parents to quit their job and act like actual parents? And so, knowing she could only care for and tend to Gabriela’s needs, the nanny tried her best to be there for the child. To laugh, to cry, to hold her whenever needed. Gabriela’s parents were never home but she was not left unloved.

When Gabriela was 18, the news came to her like a bullet to the heart. Her nanny, aged 81, had passed away. She was left heartbroken. She had spent a lot of time on her own; figuring things out. And when Gabriela had finally come out of grieving, she knew what she was going to do. To honor her nanny --- she was going to major in elementary education. Gabriela was going to be the person kids with parents like hers could look up to. And to her surprise, she found joy in it while doing her studies. Bonus!

#rpc #rph #fc help #character ideas ♡#mine.

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thezodiaczone · 6 years

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June Forecast for Aries

Spread your wings, Aries. The Sun is flitting through Gemini and your social third house until June 21, putting you in communicative and convivial spirits. Synergies will appear at every turn, and you won’t have to go far to find them. The third house rules local activity, and with the energizing Sun here, RSVP “yes” to barbecues, casual hangouts and industry Happy Hour events. It’s the best time of year to meet like-minded people whose skills complement your own.

Who knows? You might team up on a trial project to test your chemistry, especially around the June 13 Gemini new moon. This is an excellent day for brainstorming, creative work (especially if it involves writing, media or teaching) or pitching one of your dynamic ideas. Put the word out! Through mutual friends and colleagues, you could meet the coding genius who can build your e-commerce concept store or the dream DJ who will spin at your neighborhood cleanup fundraiser.

Has rivalry riddled a relationship? Your bond with a sibling or close friend could also turn over a new leaf at the Gemini new moon, which presents an opportunity to heal any rifts. With la luna in your communication center, you’ll have to talk this one through—and patiently. Try the Imago dialogue technique, a four-step exercise in which one person speaks uninterrupted, then the other mirrors the message back (“What I HEAR you saying is…”) until you both feel thoroughly heard and validated. It’s amazingly effective, and one that we (as twins and business partners) employ often.

Intentions planted at the Gemini new moon will unfold in the coming six months. Send out pitches, proposals, budding ideas. Reach out to an influencer or a person you admire with a DM on social media or by contacting them through more formal channels. Ask a mutual friend to introduce you or spread the good karma yourself by playing superconnector and hooking up two people you think would be compatible. Just get their permission before you go surprising them with a “Meet each other!” email or group text; make sure everyone is briefed ahead of time.

Father’s Day is on June 17, and if you’re celebrating, try to keep it fun with minimal drama. The moon is in Leo this year, so an over-the-top gesture might actually work. We’re not talking about anything flashy and bank-breaking (unless that’s how Daddio rolls)—more like meaningful and heartfelt acts that speak to a cherished memory between you and your favorite father figure(s). A video montage, an autographed artifact from a favorite artist or athlete, even a handwritten card expressing your gratitude could get your dudes misty-eyed this year.

If you gather with loved ones, leave the disruptive divas OFF the guest list. Peaceful Venus is forming a close opposition to combative Mars, dialing up the tension. Those attention-seeker types could be hellbent on making Dad’s special day all about them.

The rest of the month takes a different tone as Neptune and Mars turn retrograde, bringing the total retrograde planet count to five by the end of June. (Jupiter, Saturn and Pluto are already in their slowed-down cycles.) The mood gets a bit more somber and sensitive, especially once the Sun starts a four-week voyage through watery Cancer on June 21.

Cancer rules your fourth house of home and family, making this your annual time to dial down the ambitions and reconnect with your roots. Slow down, spend more time with your clan or let your lesser-seen domestic side have a few weeks to play. Creativity is heightened now because you’re so emotionally receptive, making Cancer season ideal for working through any complex feelings. You might find catharsis through reading novels, DIY and art projects, decorating or cooking—or in some way turning your nest into a sanctuary. Women will play a prominent role now, and you’ll crave quality time with the nurturing people in your circle. Your own “maternal” side could make a strong showing now too.

As for those retrograde planets, foggy and imaginative Neptune is the first to start its backspin on June 18. Neptune will reverse through Pisces and your twelfth house of closure and healing until November 24, a transit that happens around the same dates each year. Neptune rules compassion and creativity, but it also reveals where we can be gullible and easily deceived. With the fog thinning, you may actually see MORE clearly now, making the summer ideal for ascertaining who’s a trustworthy member of Team Aries.

Use this cycle to do forgiveness work, heal from a heartbreak or mourn a loss that you haven’t wanted to deal with. Neptune retrograde can be a numbing agent—kind of like when the painkillers kick in after surgery. But rather than check out or go into denial, be brave and delve into places that were too tender before.

On June 26, your ruling planet Mars—the arbiter of ambition and assertiveness—turns retrograde until August 27. Mars makes this U-turn every two years, and this time it will largely backtrack through Aquarius and your eleventh house of teamwork and technology. A digital or collaborative venture could hit a pothole, or you may have to navigate some in-fighting with a group (whether at work or socially).

It’s a good time to develop projects behind the scenes and to work out the kinks—then go full-force in the fall with your big debut. Impatient Mars wants everything yesterday, but you’ll have to grit your teeth and wait it out. With Mars retrograde, some of the people involved in your endeavors could be maddeningly out-of-sync, yet you won’t be able to bypass them or just do it all yourself. Set aside that Aries urge to seize the wheel and take over dictator-style. That will only burn bridges and tarnish your reputation for the long haul.

A sobering moment could arrive on June 27, when the confident Sun forms its annual opposition to cautious and constricting Saturn. With the Sun in Cancer and your emotional center head-butting Saturn in your career sector, you could have a moment of doubt that shakes you to the core. Perhaps you open your heart or share an idea that you’re all lit up about only to be met with a chilly reception from someone you hoped to impress. A creative idea could seem to be blocked by bureaucracy, and in frustration, you may consider abandoning the project.

With the Sun and Saturn in your “parent houses,” some mommy and daddy issues could surge up—hello, repetition of a childhood wound! Remind yourself NOT to take it personally, hard as that will be. This is a short-term transit, and the pessimism it brings WILL pass. If you’re thinking of pitching an idea, you might want to choose another date—or at least know that you might not hit a home run on your first at-bat. Come prepared with facts and figures, not just enthusiasm, and know that you may have to wait for a decision.

Luckily, some of this will be offset by the Capricorn full moon the next day, on June 28. This once-a-year lunar lift will land in your tenth house of public recognition, career and success. Saturn’s strain will still be felt since the moon and the ringed planet are in close cahoots. A potential upside: You could land a leadership opportunity or a job that comes with greater responsibility and long-term benefits. The catch is that it could be a weighty role that will demand a LOT of your time and energy if you step into it.

The tenth house rules men and fathers, and this full moon could bring a sobering moment with an important guy in your life. You may need to summon serious maturity and do some “adulting.” It’s an excellent day for clarifying your boundaries and priorities. Working with a mentor or leaning on a wise and experienced guide can help you navigate anything that feels daunting now.

Love & Romance

Thanks to amorous Venus parked in Cancer and your sentimental fourth house until June 13, you’ll be in high spirits—and fine flirting form! The first couple days of the month are especially heart-opening. On June 1, the love planet forms a flowing trine with optimistic Jupiter in your eighth house of merging, and the next day, she fist-bumps enchantress Neptune in your twelfth house of fantasy and surrender. You might reach the conclusion that being in control is overrated—at least for now, under these receptive skies. From mind-body-soul connections to mind-blowing intimacy, you’ll be tingling right down to your marrow.

But don’t give away ALL your power! You may have second thoughts about someone or something on June 5, when Venus spins into her annual, one-day opposition to domineering Pluto in your tenth house of boundaries. Don’t let the wall go back up!

Meantime, lusty Mars is touring Aquarius and your social eleventh house all month, turning retrograde on June 26 until August 27. Not all your friends will be supportive of your relationship or dating choices, so be selective about whom you share juicy deets with.

On June 13, Venus cranks up the action when she vamps into dramatic Leo and your flamboyant fifth house. Regardless of your relationship status, this is sure to heat up your romantic life as well as the glamour quotient. Venus will stick around until July 9, so get some fun plans on the books, ideally things that include serious playtime and maybe some music festivals, since this realm rules creativity and the arts.

But note: There will likely be a few choppy moments along the way as Venus collides with less lighthearted planets. On June 14, the love planet faces off with unruly Uranus in Taurus, bringing up the issue of stability and security versus freedom. On June 21, Venus opposes Mars, adding to the tension. And then on June 25, Venus will clash with expansive Jupiter, which could leave you questioning someone’s integrity. Navigate your way through this obstacle course and you’ll come out with a clearer idea of where you stand.

Key Dates

June 5: Venus-Pluto Opposition Your emotions may go on an extreme seesaw ride today. Part of you wants to connect on a deeper level, yet old buried fears—of abandonment or vulnerability—could form a wall around your heart. Feel your way through this; you don’t want to project YOUR issues onto loved ones.

Money & Career

Teamwork makes the steam AND the dream work this month, as fiery Mars continues racing through Aquarius and your eleventh house of group endeavors and technology. A collaboration or online project that began heating up in May could gain even more momentum as June rolls along. Your influencer status is on the rise, and the public may embrace your cutting-edge ideas. With clever Mercury in Gemini and your articulate third house until June 12, you’ll be wit and charm personified, whether in a morning meeting or as a social media feed favorite. The June 13 Gemini new moon is especially favorable for putting your concepts out into the world, signing up for a class or teaming up with a kindred-spirit type.

That could come to a halt—or at least downshift noticeably—starting June 26, when Mars starts its once-every-other-year retrograde backspin until August 27. The red planet will reverse through Aquarius and your future-forward eleventh house until August 12, then it will crawl backward through Capricorn and your career sector until it turns direct (forward).

A summer slowdown doesn’t sound like what you had in mind, Aries, and there could be some frustrating obstacles to navigate, especially when other people are involved. Your first impulse might be to lean in to your independent side and break from the herd. But taking a rash “I’ll just do it myself” stance will not only burn YOU out, it could burn bridges and earn you a rep as a reckless renegade who doesn’t know how to be a team player.

As a straightforward Aries, you really don’t “do politics,” but learning to play the game could turn out to be an invaluable lesson from your retrograde ruler. Rather than damage key relationships during Mars’ retrograde, work on team-building and strengthen any weak links in the chain. Retrogrades are a perfect time for reflection, repair and rethinking. Use the time to course-correct so you’ll be ready for a big splash in September. With Jupiter, Saturn, Pluto and Neptune all retrograde by the end of June, making careful and well-planned moves is in your best interest.

On the flip side, if you’re the kind of Aries who teems with brilliant ideas that you never give voice to, Mars retrograde is a time to move past those insecurities and start sharing openly. When the year’s only Capricorn full moon illuminates your tenth house of ambition and success on June 28, you could rise into a leadership role or finally make a long-desired career change. Since full moons can signify transitions, you might change paths or leave a role that no longer satisfies your soul.

Key Dates

June 27: Sun-Saturn Opposition Sure, it would be nice to have it all, but this once-a-year cosmic clash of the dynamic Sun and cautious Saturn brings a needed reality check. You can load up your schedule as much as you like, but that doesn’t mean you’ll actually get to enjoy any of it. Choose quality over quantity. Less can definitely be more!

Love Days: 17, 21 Money Days: 11, 29 Luck Days: 8, 26 Off Days: 19, 23, 6

#aries #astrology #horoscope #zodiac #Monthly Forecast #aries monthly

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dead-dolly · 6 years

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When you’re little you don’t even think to doubt that Mommy and Daddy are in love. So, when he screams at her, punches the wall until it breaks, hits her, strangles her, and says “I’m going to rape you then I’m going to fucking kill you”, it’s love. You also don’t even think to doubt that Daddy loves you. So, when he says things like “no one wants to hear that you want to die”, “if that’s your dream job then you have to stop eating, those people are skinny”, and laughs when you tell him not to touch you Like That, it’s love.

When you meet a boy and he’s got some issues but is overall nice to you, you’ll think you’re in love. He’ll be cruel and he’ll kiss other girls but you already knew that love hurt and this love hurts less. He’ll leave you and come back before leaving you again, the cycle will repeat until it finally ends. You’ll cry and post emo lyrics on Facebook.

Year will pass and you’ll meet a new boy. He’s got some issues but he makes you laugh and is nice to you, you’ll want to be his friend. He’ll be rough with others but so gentle with you. You’ll hug him and fit in his arms so perfectly you’ll never want to leave his embrace. When you complain about the sun he’ll turn himself into shade for you and when you want to lay down he lets you use his sweater for a pillow. You’ll fall in love. It doesn’t hurt. You’ll try to find problems, seeking out anything that will prove that somethings wrong. You’ll think it’s too good to be true. He’ll love you even when you do this. He’ll never be mean to you even when you feel like you deserve it. He’ll reassure you. He says “I know about your past, I know why you do this but it’s okay, they’re gone now”. You’ll feel safe for the first time. Love doesn’t have to hurt anymore

#abuse #trauma #mental illness #trigger warning

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mytherapistthinksiamfunny · 4 years

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I am Christmas Shopping in September during a global pandemic.

What does that mean?

It means that life goes on and we have to plan ahead. People are dying, and those of us that remain will need a little shallow shiny thing during winter.

And those of us that remain will need something that helps us remember

that we remain.

Personally, I have made it clear to my spouse that I want and expect many gifts, many items wrapped in shiny and aesthetically pleasing paper. I want a combination of specifically specific items from specific stores/sites in specific shades/sizes/palettes/editions S P E C I F I C!

I also want random items that he chooses in any variety of quality/thoughtfulness/expense

Whatever it takes to make the moment last. The glorious moment of joy in opening a gift that someone has chosen just for you

I love doing that for people I care about. I bond with people by making them feel seen or letting them know that I find them intriguing and would like to know them better.

This year especially, I need to do this for the people I love and that matter to me. And I need to receive it or something like it from the people that care for me and/or have put up with my declining mental health and decent into madness

I see it as a form of self care and staying grounded through my relationships with others. Because if I succumb to my self-indulgent self-hatred I will end before this sentence does.

So...

Since I am still strong enough to fight for my life...

I have decided that I will shop for my life.

I know it sounds shallow. Or.. R E P U B L I C A N...

But I have come to the realization that it really is the thought that counts for me.

I truly love the knowledge that someone took time out of their day to think of me and wonder if something would bring a smile to my face.

Because people are dying and we remain.

And if all we do is survive to December 25th, or whenever you celebrate the end of year holy days

mine are Friendxmas the weekend before Christmas, December 12th, Christmas Day movies and Chinese food, New Year’s Day music shopping and movie-binge-watching with friends

and the anxiety-inducing panic of rushing through the last few pages of a book so I can count it on my reading challenge and then I can briefly forget the exhaustion of not enjoying my book long enough to ambitiously add 2 titles to my New Years Resolution Reading Challenge

So.

I am shopping. During a global pandemic.

Because my brother has made it through the better (haha) part of 2019 and all of 2020 without a drop of alcohol. He has faced his demons and punched them in the mommy issues

And last year when he told me he was in rehab and had been clean for 3 months and counting

I was so proud of him for fighting his way through the cycle of abuse and depression

I’ve been there too.

It’s not the same. His demons attack him externally. Mine attack me internally

It’s not a competition. And it’s not for me to judge him. Or his fight. It’s for me to support him in any way he needs me to.

Recently, it has meant that I selfishly used him to solve my financial troubles by having him take on my beloved Stella Roland, her room and board, his weekend warrior excursions, her resourcefulness and street savvy. I’ll explain later.

But my point was that I promised my brother a trip to Disneyland if he managed to stay sober for 6 months.

Just before his 6 months were complete...

The pandemic hit the news cycle

and everything shut down

It is very important to me that my little brother understand that he has done something amazing in a time when it could have broken him. And that he is so important to me that I was living in fear that I would hear from someone somewhere that he passed in some bizarre way. Or an all-too-expected one

And I need him to know that if anything were to happen to him, I would be destroyed

So I will do that. Let him know that he has done something amazing and that he means the world to me.

Because that is what my promise of Disneyland was all along. Not a bribe, but a promise of celebration.

We cannot control everything.

Sometimes plans change. Sometimes they have to

But that doesn’t mean we give up hope.

Because hope is the most dangerous thing in the world.

Those who have it will never give up

And those who lose it have nothing left to lose

So...

That long post was to seek shopping advice.

If you were a recovering young man trying to get his life back on track and looking towards family for comfort but your mother’s a batman villain, your father’s a recovering fuckboi, your sister’s daddy issues require their own well-lit corner of the family closet, your brother-in-law has knowingly and willingly joined this psychotic traveling circus by marrying your sister after learning that she was related to Pennywise the Dancing Clown, and you have not seen your young daughter in many years possibly triggering the childhood trauma you experienced as a child when your mother kicked your father out on his drunk ass for trading in the family vehicle to the gang across the street for copious amounts of cocaine

Should I get him the ReMastered Taylor Swift Box Set and ridiculously over-glittered “13″ foam finger that will inevitably be released closer to Thanksgiving/Black Friday?

I mean, it’s a prediction but you know Ms. Swift got something up them Cardigan sleeves. I bet the foam hand covering will be split into a heart-hand shape where one hand is holding up the middle finger to denote the “1″ and the other hand is holding up 3 fingers to denote how many album masters she owns while fulfilling the contractual agreement that releases her from BMLG and cuts into Tricycle Brawny’s profits

Or should I get him The Shining and Doctor Sleep by Dr. Stephen King, PhD?

You know, the feel-good story of a child who witnessed his father’s decent into madness and turn violent toward his family in an isolated hotel that haunts the nightmares of anyone remotely familiar with the story clear into the second chapter of the sequel that sees him grow into a man that has followed his deadbeat dad’s path to the bottom of a bottle through the mountains of cocaine it takes to help forget his past and reaches bottom when he remembers that he has a supernatural gift that can help save the next generation from falling victim to the same cycle of self-destruction and self-inflicted pain as penance for past sins or minor transgressions.

Or is that too on the nose?

So far, I’ve gotten him

A small Batman that he could stick to the dash in his car

A golden Batmobile Hot Wheels

Two Lion King puzzles

One Lion King set of stickers

A bag of All Pink Starburst

Convinced him to celebrate his Sobriety Birthday

Decided to gift him items 1-6 as his Sobriety Birthday Gift

Volunteered to get him an Oreo Ice Cream Cake and pop blue Powerade bottles in his honor. i should also pick up a pumpkin pie and orange sodas and Doritos

Or should I get him The Haunting of Hill House?

Gift-giving is hard.

I think I’ll get him a Czechoslovakian Football.

Or this

https://www.uncommongoods.com/product/playful-sports-mugs#255120000000

#mental health #self care #thoughtfulness #mindfulness #you matter to me #your life matters #batman villain #suicide squad #not an ad

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differentworlds-fiction · 7 years

Text

NICOLE

It was never my intention to give her the cold shoulder.

The sudden hiccup in communication between us was far from deliberate, yet my beloved maternal figure insisted otherwise.

I drew a line in the sand, Barbara concluded in one of the three-part passive-aggressive emails idling my inbox. A crippling sense of uncertainty riddled me the longer I pondered on what my reply should be. Responding back with a defensive tone would earn me nothing but a hostile talking to and me running the risk of potentially being motherless all over again. No matter how thorough the explanation and my reasonings behind failing to reach out by simply picking up the phone were, my behavior would always be deemed as ‘sketchy’.

I was on the losing end of the battle; criticized for the distance that had wedged between us.

“Our relationship is falling by the wayside because of your doing”, according to Barbara.

The statement like a harsh blow to the gut, weakening me more than she’d ever know.

Above all else, Barbara Dawson despised feeling slighted. And as mentioned in part two of her lengthy laundry list of discrepancies, we hadn’t spoken to each other in a month of Sundays.

Had it, been that long?

Sure enough, calls had been far and few between, much of that having to with the ironclad obligations taking up my schedule. In the instances where I wasn’t expected to tag along with Mya to dress alterations appointments or listening in on conference calls where the indecisive bride-to-be made changes to the reception menu, I enjoyed any bit of slumber I could take.

Being the close friend Mya Evans wasn’t the quintessential walk in the park as the public presumed it to be.

My fingers were set into motion across the phone’s hypersensitive touchscreen attempting to form some sort of response.

Silverware purposefully clanking together on the opposite side of the table prompted me to place my phone down altogether. I huffed inwardly, allowing my eyes to roam over the Caprese salad placed before me that had gone untouched. Soon the aimless din pervading Rosemary’s, an Italian hotspot for brunch located on Greenwich Avenue, became unbearable; a pair of eyes belonging to my recurring lay bore into mine.

Our shared silence bothersome, intensifying the moment he followed my stare downward.

Before I could raise my arm to pick the phone up again, he beat me to the punch and grasped it, placing it to the left of him soon afterward.

“You’re awfully quiet.” He observed, fiddling with the small portion of smoked salmon lingering on his plate.

“I’m always ‘awfully quiet'. That isn’t so out of the norm.”

He offered the barest hint of a smile; the fact that--more times than not--our lulls sufficed, resonated the longer we stared at one another.

Our relationship hadn’t been built on typical courting.

Screwing each other’s brains out and the routine outing for a meal where we happened to engage in what seemed like contrived small talk just for the sake of being polite was more our forte.

Two weekends ago, however, a dramatic shift was initiated.

I accompanied him to Complex’s cover reveal for their highly anticipated summer issue.

Solange Knowles, their cover girl, was in attendance.

Not mixing in with the crowd and taking those expected snapshots in front of a blow-up photo of the magazine cover, but DJing. Most of the partygoers, permalance journalists as well as digital content editors and record label bigwigs who tended to scope out unsigned talent at those particular events, stood around in disbelief -- flabbergasted at the carefree creative and how down to earth she turned out to be.

She was personable and coy, all while playing R&B songs from the nineties.

The sweltering rooftop gathering erupted in nostalgic delight that evening as classics from yesteryear livened the sticky summer air.

It was a night to remember for many reasons, the most significant basis being that it rendered a shift in my dealings with Troy. Although we were successful in the aspect of not labeling our circumstance as dating, his arm remained draped across the small of my back throughout the entire night. I could’ve chalked it up to him wanting his colleague to witness him acting chummy with a model, but I didn’t.

It felt genuine.

It felt right.

At the same time, it also petrified me; feeling at the very moment develop actual sentiments for this man beyond lust. I was beginning to crave him beyond the encounters within the confines of my home. I wanted to know him, wholly.

Shrugging away the flurry of thoughts cluttering my mind, I picked up my fork and dug in. In comparison to Troy’s need to eat with gusto, I ate with apathy.

“So do you plan on holding my phone hostage over there, or do you intend on handing it back anytime soon?”

“Eat first.” He instructed, indicating my full with his fork. “It wouldn’t hurt to go few minutes without it. You haven’t looked up from that thing since we ordered.”

“Something of great importance must’ve had my attention then.”

“Perhaps. What’s so important that we can’t engage in conversation while we eat?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“I asked, didn’t I?” He let out a timid chuckle. “Humor me, Nicole.”

“My mother,” I spoke in an even tone. “Hill’s mother. I should’ve specified beforehand--”

“--But you look to her as a mother.” He gathered.

“Very much so. During my childhood, I acquired guardians. What the foster care would deem as remarkable or promising maternal figures. I had a ‘father’ too once. But Barbara Dawson is my mother. The only mother I’ve ever had.” The statement hung in the air for quite some time. Stolen glances substituted for words that failed to be expressed. Her piercing brown eyes bore into mine, longing to inquire about why a former lover’s mother had been my epitome of a maternal figure. “My biological parents were never in my life. If by some chance they were walking alongside me on the street, I wouldn’t even be able to tell you what they look like.” My attention drifted towards the table able, perusing the Alaia laser cut tote bag. Its white exterior embossed by numerous punctures reminiscent of lily-white doilies. “Up until my teens I was in and out of foster homes,” I murmured, “I harbor a bit of resentment and anger because of that.”

“Given your circumstances, you had a lot to be angry about.”

“Right.” I reaffirmed without saying too much.

I would’ve gone on a spiel about the young interracial couple in Woodhaven and told him that I was their little introduction into parenting. They treated me like porcelain--as if I came equipped with directions to treat with delicacy. By the end of my year-long stay, none of that mattered, anyway. The truth of the matter remained that whenever I reached a point of normalcy, it was ripped right away from me.

By my tenth birthday, Olcott Street out in Forest Hills became my new home.

Due to my firm assertion to call her everything but ‘mommy’, we never quite meshed.

A series of school fist fights landed me at Sister Gloria’s doorstep. Social workers responsible for the livelihoods of other children referred to the Astoria resident as a Godsend due to a number of foster children raised in her three-bedroom home. At one time I vaguely remember there being six children living there; three boys and three girls, including myself. All of us were expected to carry out daily chores once homework was completed. Wednesdays evenings were devoted to bible study. The running joke amongst the congregation Sister Gloria and her children never missed Thursday choir rehearsal; rain or shine, sleet or snow. On Sundays, Sister Gloria woke us all before sunrise to prepare us for morning service. Aside from hearing the good word she sought out that the seven of us would occupy the second row of pews inside the sanctuary, right behind the deaconesses.

I could’ve bored Troy into a thoughtless story about Sister Gloria and her ultimately ending my cycle of being passed from promising parent to promising parent. Though she didn’t quite fit the mold of the mother I yearned to have, I was blessed to have crossed paths with her.

“I’ve been through some shit,” I declared, “Internal shit. I’ve been through more foster parents throughout my childhood than you can count. It wasn’t that I was some difficult child looking to act out at any given moment. It was either they acquired too many children at once, or a pair of doting foster parents fresh out of pre-service training realized taking in some random child carrying wasn’t as easy as they perceived it to be.” I elaborated, lifting up my fork and placing a generous slice of mozzarella and basil. “You ever meet a person, and for whatever reason, you two just happen to click?”

“Sure.” Troy retorted sparingly, propping his head on his palms.

“Well, Barbara’s that person for me. From the moment Hill introduced me to his family, we clung to each other. And despite the fact that her son and I are no longer together, we’ve still maintained our relationship.”

“There was some uncertainty in your voice during that last part.”

Troy countered, his eyebrow-raising in suspicion.

“Was not.”

“Was so.”

“Eh,” I sensed where the conversation was beginning to shift eased down a bit in my seat, “How about I spare you the long-winded version?”

“Either way I’m all ears.”

Although he opted for either version, I refrained from dishing out too much.

Glancing at the practical wristwatch I donned, time was of the essence.

There was somewhere else I had to be.

Despite my best efforts to squeeze in an afternoon quickie, I was met with a docile kiss on the forehead; far more reserved than the ones we exchanged in the familiar setting of my apartment. “I have to run. Gotta finish this write-up,” He murmured against my skin, “Have fun at the bridal shower. Call me when you get back from the Hamptons.” We separated, rejoining only seconds after to kiss again.

My excruciating two-hour commute to East Hampton couldn’t have ended soon enough. Aside from fighting the urge to tell the driver that I wasn’t up for engaging in aimless conversation and being ill-equipped with nothing other than responding to work-related emails to keep me busy, regret set in the once a returning draft from the truck’s AC rushed against my skin.

Perhaps nixing a bra with the lace off-the-shoulder top I threw on at the last minute wasn’t such a good idea.

The SUV cruised onto the property along the stone pathway, parking under the porte-cochere supported by stark white columns.

Though he made the drive unbearable, I gave my thanks to the burly chauffeur and mentioned that I hadn’t to stay the whole duration of the party.

My mind was set on seeing Mya, handing her my gift, and leaving.

I arrived amidst a somewhat frantic transition from activities.

The host--chief editor of Blakewood Publishing Group and close peer of Mya--soon followed happy hour up with the gift portion of the party.

Subsequent to spotting yet another article of La Perla lingerie removed from a plain box, I decided I’ve had enough and ventured off, setting my sights on the bar.

That was, until, I discovered the bar located by the home’s waterfront entrance

At the bar, I indulged in a dirty martini.

One turned into two.

Two almost turned into three, but before beckoning over the brunette behind the bar for another martini, I acknowledged the set of eyes that had been peering over at me devouring an olive. “You’re staring?” I blurted out, sinking my teeth into the flesh of my bottom lip. Recoiling atop the lucite barstool, I pushed the empty glass aside with one hand, tossing the bare toothpick along with it.

“My apologies.” The woman with deep-set dimples uttered apologetically. The space between us lessened once she ditched her seat at the bar’s opposite end and claimed the empty seat beside me. “Eileen Darby.”

“Eileen Darby. Eileen Darby. I’ve heard that name before. Where have I heard that name? Ugh. Either I’m well past tipsy or my memory isn’t what it used to be.” I mumbled.

Delicate snickers floated through the thick air muddled with inebriated coos coming from the drunken pack of partygoers behind us.

A settled Mya sat clad on one of the multiple pieces of aqua patterned furniture, clad in a skintight midi dress that hugged every curve in her figure. Over low cut ‘do sat a personalized veil she was rumored to be given upon her early arrival; her forthcoming name change, ‘Mrs. Pratt’ was hand-stitched on its back in wide cursive.

“Media. You’re in media, aren’t you?”

“You can say that,” She pursed her lips into a thin line, nodding sparingly. “I worked in casting some years back but with some success, I’ve been lucky enough to executive produce a few hit reality shows.”

“Reality TV, huh?”

As the liquor sank in, a newfound courage emerged, fueling me to spar with a media juggernaut who force-fed dysfunctional behavior to the masses.

“Oh, a hmph from Nicole Warren. Interesting. Trust me I could detect the criticism.”

“That wasn’t criticism,” I paused, “Okay maybe it was. Could you blame a girl for having her assumptions about the madness you display on television?

“Entertainment.” She attempted to correct, earning a firm head shake.

“You consider drink throwing and belligerent women charging one another ‘entertainment’?”

“Personally no. But according to the average two million viewers any of the shows I’m the executive producer of, it is.”

“Is it really worth it though? What good is garnering millions of viewers every week when the castmates are being presented in a bad light because of the contrived situations they’ve been placed in?” I challenged, managing to not slur my words. My brow rose as Eileen and I engaged in a staredown.

Though I made it a priority to stay far from pursuing any form of reality television that involved an ensemble cast with ego inflated by meager accomplishments, I was hip to the behind the scenes antics production tended to pull on the individuals who hoped to establish themselves as household names.

The over-consumption of liquor during filming.

The contrived meetups with cast members that set the tone for anti-climatic squabbles that were always cut short due to on-site security.

In the grand scheme of things, none of the horrid behavior was worth the negative exposure.

“In some ways, it is worth it to these reality stars. They’re getting noticed-- some more than others, but still noticed nevertheless. It’s all about gaining publicity and getting the masses talking.”

“Early on in my career, I was told that all publicity isn’t good publicity.”

I learned that hard lesson in during London Fashion Week.

An after-party hosted by Burberry’s creative director left me sloppily teetering out into the paved streets with Hill guiding me into a town car parked nearby. The two of us were tossed into the throes of success at the same time and transitioned of those who were inexperienced to individuals who traveled out the country on a regular basis.

“Look at you, all drunk and shit...This ain’t you.” He reprimanded me like a parent reprimanded their child. “You’re gonna be plastered all over the internet by morning. Watch. Mark my words.”

Of course, I was too intoxicated to form a verbal reply then.

To acknowledge that I’d heard him I nodded just as my head hit up against the car’s window. Before a drunken cat nap pervaded me on the way back to our hotel, I remembered the slick utterance, “All publicity ain’t good publicity. Craig told me that.”

By that time I’d been just about sick hearing about the decrepit trainer he regarded as family.

Turns out he was right. By the morning, I was referred to as the runway model who couldn’t seem to handle her alcohol. For a week I was a public spectacle.

It was safe to say that that particular London Fashion Week, for me, was a complete dud.

I turned back to Eileen, shrugging Hill out of my thoughts. This time I traded in my tight-lipped smirk for a look of indifference.

“Maybe I shouldn’t judge all reality stars by lumping them all under the confrontational umbrella. But you have to admit they’re pretty extra. Are you okay with having your name attached to all that madness?”

She offered a halfhearted shrug, far too timid to outright answer at this point.

“Not all of my shows are centered around confrontation. I’ve co-produced a family oriented mini-series following a rapper and his family.

“Oh you mean the rapper doing damage control after his multiple affairs and secret children were brought to light?”

“Yes, but the show was still centered around family. The children he and his wife shared met the children he had outside the marriage.”

“After the mothers got into a heated argument in a restaurant parking lot.” I tutted.

“For someone to be walking runways and posing for ad campaigns, you seem to know a lot about my shows.”

“I’ve watched a few,” I confessed with an earnest shrug, recalling the four-month long hiatus I’d taken from modeling. Amidst keeping tabs on Hill as he ventured from city to city on a frequent basis and caring for myself I binged watched a marathon in awe at the behavior displayed. It was as if I were witnessing a trainwreck. No matter how much I wanted to look away, I couldn’t seem to turn the channel. “Petty fighting aside, I could see why the average viewer tunes in every week. I’m guessing you and whoever’s head of casting orchestrate the tangled storylines --”

“I’m afraid not. You’d be surprised how little production has to do with the storyline. Yes, we might set up a scene where friends may meet up somewhere to film together. And unbeknownst to them a rival of theirs may or may not have also been listed on the call sheet and mandated to show up for air time.”

“So you’re saying, you and your production staff have -- to an extent-- contrived storylines.”

“I won’t say yes, and I won’t say no. Can I ask a question?” She didn’t bother to hear my answer before starting up again. “Why do you have such reservations about reality television --”

“Not all reality tv, just the ones you’ve happened to have a hand in producing,” I quipped, easing the jab with a glib grin.

“Well, as an individual who strives to do better, may I ask what I can do in order to improve my programming?”

“I don’t work in television so I wouldn’t know.”

“But you do watch tv, my shows specifically.” She added, countering my petty jab with one of her own. “So tell me what can I do to improve my programming.”

Before dishing her the answer Eileen sought out to receive, I beckoned the bartender over and ordered another dirty martini. “For starters, you can tone it down on all the alcohol I’m certain the castmates are being provided. All that liquor only fuels bad behavior. And if the people on your shows are striving to elevate their careers to the next level, being filmed with a glass of whatever in your hand will hurt them unless are they’re looking to do business-wise is earn a collaborative deal with a bottom-shelf liquor brand. Another thing would be to allow genuine situations to happen. Not of that manipulated bullshit should fly, like ever. In a perfect world, production should let situations be organic.”

“Well said. Concise, even.” Eileen tilted her head. “Now if you were to be given a show what would be its premise?”

“I don’t know. Maybe me and a few of my girlfriends -- actual friends of mine by the way, not some people I halfway don’t know or like for the matter-- panning through our circumstances but also helping each other out at the same time. Sorting our own bullshit out, you know. Not in an unhealthy, belligerent way.”

“Funny. Mya said you’d say something like that.” Her hand adorned with gold plated midi rings motioned in Mya’s direction. “‘We’d been in close contact for some time now. I thought greenlighting eight episodes with the network about a show surrounding Mya Evans as she juggles the many hats of being a wife, career woman, and friend to an assorted group of women would be interesting. She wasn’t too fond of the other shows I’ve been attached to but she didn’t shy away from the pitch. We played with the idea of which of her friends would make it on. Your name was the first to be mentioned, of course. I think you’d be a great addition to the tv world.”

“Oh no, no, no…I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not? Just imagine if you graced millions of viewers’ TV screen every week. Of course, they’ll associate you with being just another pretty face. But once you open your mouth and articulate yourself, they’ll fall in love with you.”

“Me? Of all people why me?”

Eileen sighed, tugging a sandy brown wisp behind her ear. “I don’t know you on a personal level and I’m solely going off of what I’ve read in magazines and seen in interviews. Women would reason with you--connect with you, especially if you let that prissy guard down of yours and actually open up.”

“Prissy?”

“Oh please! Has no one ever called you prissy? I’ve heard stories about you being quite the diva.”

“Assertive bitch--maybe. Classifying me as a ‘diva’ is a bit of a stretch.”

“Don't shoot the messenger, darling. I'm only telling you what I've heard from photographers and their people.”

I pursed my lips into a snide grin. “I may have had a few choice words for an unpaid intern or two in my past..”

”You’d be surprised how much gossip I’ve heard about folks in the entertainment industry that I don’t care to follow up with and determine whether it's factual or not.”

Somewhere between laughing at a joke and Eileen recalling a squabble on set where extra security had to resolve two women pulling each other’s hair out, Mya removed herself from the party’s epicenter and joined us at the bar. “I’ve seen you met Eileen.” She took a sip from her champagne flute, her other hand running down the ivory colored number she wore for today’s festivities.

Eileen cleared her throat and downed the last bit of the brown liquor on the rocks she’d been nursing throughout our entire conversation.“Yes, we’ve been having a little pow-wow over here,”

I tussled my wavy wisps. Mya’s eyes peered into mine, assessing whether there was something else on my mind, something that I wanted to say. Though our friendship hadn’t dated back as long as some of the women gifting her with the cliche silk monogrammed pajamas with her forthcoming married name on the back or high-priced jewelry Mya had the means of getting herself, she knew me well enough to know when I was holding back.

As Mya continued to assess me, Eileen stood up from the barstool and bid us farewell. We exchanged a firm handshake while Mya was quickly engrossed in a hug.

“So when were you planning on telling me about the reality show you’re doing with Eileen Darby?” I uttered the moment the cunning executive producer mingled with other guests.

“Eh, I hate the term reality show. It has such an ugly stigma. I prefer to refer to that project as a docu-series.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I quipped. “Why was my name brought up in that conversation? And don’t lie and say that it wasn’t because Eileen herself told me.”

“Can’t we talk about this sometime later? Like tomorrow when there are fewer people around.” She attempted to walk away, taking quick, eager sips from her champagne glass, but I reached forward and lightly grasped her arm.

“No, we can talk about this right now.”

“Fine. Follow me.” She spat. We ventured away from the party and headed up a flight of stairs that led to the home’s second floor. With each step made, our footsteps made corresponding clicking noises that echoed the further we trudged along the hardwood. Two wooden chairs bedecked with patterned cushions that looked to be far too firm were located at the end of the hall, along with a row of potted plants positioned by the wide, sun soaking windows. Mya and I engaged in a staring match for what seemed to be an eternity until she gave in and sat down, unfastening both of her sandals’ ankle straps, tossing the high heeled shoes aside before retrieving her glass again.

“I was offered the deal after my co-writers and I submitted a few chapters of the book. I wasn’t sure how word got out there but maybe a week after that I ran into Eileen and an OK! Magazine event. We exchanged numbers and maybe went out to lunch once or twice. She presented the idea. I was completely turned off by it. And from there, we began discussing who’d be a great fit for the show. And that’s that. Nothing else.” She spoke, tilting the champagne flute’s base upwards. “I haven’t signed off on everything yet. My attorney’s still looking over everything. But if I were to sign on, I wouldn’t begin filming until after my honeymoon.”

“Where do I come in at in this whole thing?”

“However you wish to come in at, Nicole. You don’t have to come in at all if you don’t want to. I’d respect your wishes. Convincing someone to do anything they have reservations about was never my thing. It’s your life and your reputation on the line. Television could make or break you.” She rushed out before taking another gulp of champagne. “I should be back in Manhattan a week after the wedding. Jason finally settled on a location for the honeymoon.” She said, her eyes beaming with enthusiasm. “It’s looking like Santorini for us, and thank goodness it is because he strongly considered the Maldives even though we just spent my birthday weekend there last March...” She blabbered on.

Unbeknown to her, I tuned out at the mention of the moment the Maldives were mentioned.

The South Asian island arrayed with more sandbanks that I could count was where Hill and I had spent our last vacation together. A three-day two-night stay in an overwater villa was followed by a two da yacht ride along the waters of the Indian Ocean.

We conceived there.

Our relationship reached its peak there.

The reason behind its demise, among other aspects, had originated there.

A reciprocated passion wasn’t the uncompromising issue.

Our displays of affection never dwindled, whether we were at odds or working out over the periodic rough patches of an overzealous dispute. Kissing, groping and heated lovemaking were constants that bound us; it was the glue that held us together--that joined us from the very beginning.

We were doomed from the start.

“Call me when you’ve thought it through. I guess I’ll present the idea to my other two girlfriends.”

“Hypothetically speaking, what happens after that?” Part of me wanted to prod around about the ‘other girlfriends’ that she considered to be part of the docu-series but decided against asking. Mya was fond of knowing the who’s who in the entertainment industry. From urban models to overly-privileged wives of record label execs.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to refill my glass. If I’m going to judge a damn contest based on which dress made of toilet paper is the prettiest then I need me a buzz.” She snickered before grabbing her heels and her glass. She paused and then reverted her gazed to me. “Thank you for the gift. No one’s ever gifted me with cooking classes before.” She said prior to hurrying back down the hall.

#Different Worlds #Different Worlds Fiction #fiction

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ladyartemina · 7 years

Text

Follower Dialogue

Original: ghartokpadhome

Copy and fill out with what your character’s dialogue would be if they were a Follower in the Elder Scrolls!

Stolen From: dolorousheart

Eveyne | Artemina — Huntress | Assassin

Initiating Conversation:

“And you are…?”

“Where’ve you been all my life, handsome.” — Male

“And here I thought my day couldn’t get any better…” — Sarcastically

“No, Arcael Apothecary doesn’t do deliveries. You’ll have to pick it up yourself.” / “Arcael Apothecary burned down with the rest of Helgen, so you’ll have to go elsewhere.” — Post Alduin’s return

“Can I help you?”

“If you want somebody dead, send a courier to the Arcael residence like everybody else. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”

Exiting Conversation:

“Later handsome.” / “May we meet again.” —Male

“Another time then.”

“Goodbye.”

Asked to Wait:

“Oh! No problem! My life revolves around you, you know.” — Sarcastically

“Don’t keep me waiting.” — Male

Spoken to whilst waiting:

“Forgot something did you?” — initiating conversation

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes…” — Male, initiating conversation

“Good, I was getting lonely.” — asked to continue following

“Or leave, that’s fine too…” — Conversation exited without being asked to follow

Asked to move/interact:

“I can do that!” / “That doesn’t look too hard.” — Command given

“Anything for you, handsome.” — Male, command given

“How about…no.” / “Even I’m not that talented.” — Command denied

“Here you go.” / “*bows* My Lord/Lady…” — Command completed

Asked to trade items:

“Whatever you need, handsome.” — Male

“I guess what’s mine is yours.”

“Just remember that I’m not a housecarl. I’m not sworn to carry any of your burdens.”

Dismissed:

“Aw, you’re leaving already.” — Male

“On to brighter horizons?”

“Remember me fondly…or don’t…it’s up to you really.”

“I understand. Should you need me I’ll be back/here in Helgen/Whiterun.” — differs between pre and post-Alduin

After Dismissal:

“Have I not stricken the fear of the Gods in you yet?”

“I’d follow you to the end of Oblivion.” — Male

“What do you say? How about we make the Gods regret bringing us together?”

Combat:

“We’re not alone.”

“Queue the enemy…” — Initiating combat

“Oh dear…you think you’re threatening.”

“I hate those foul beasts.” — after killing a wolf

“I’m still here, and you’re…still not dead.”

“Bye, bye…” — before casting invisibility

“What’s with you conjurers and your wolves!?” — In combat with conjurer

“I’m…sorry…” — Defeated by enemies

“And I thought diplomacy was my strong suit.” / “Was surrender too much to ask?” / “That fool didn’t stand a chance.” — After enemy’s defeat

Other Dialogue (Specific cities, locations, situations, etc.)

“Solitude…where the people where false smiles while they spout patriotic nonsense…” — Solitude

“Now if only the Jarl would make her own decisions, this place might be in good shape…” — Solitude, The Blue Palace

“I considered studying here, but Ma would have never allowed it.” — College of Winterhold

“Anything that isn’t nailed down is subject to disappearance. Keep that in mind, would you?” — Riften

“Oh, how quaint…” — Dwemer Ruins, upon seeing a Falmer camp

“I’ve never liked these places. The constant clanking puts me on edge.” — Dwemer Ruins

“Do try not to set off any traps while we’re here. I don’t fancy scraping you off the walls.” — Nordic Ruins

“I never thought I’d find a place more corrupt than Riften, but this place takes the cake.” — Markarth

“I don’t know about you, but stone beds don’t strike my fancy.” — Markarth, Inn/Bedroom

“We shouldn’t stay here too long. This city will suck the color from us too.” — Windhelm

“Don’t worry, they know me here.” — Whiterun/Helgen

“I can think of several things to do if we stay here tonight.” — Male, any inn

“I’ll do a lot of things, but wolves are where I draw the line.”

“Children are off limits…Geez, I may kill people for a living but I have standards.” — When asked who she won’t kill

“Who needs sunlight anyway…” — When entering a cave

I feel like she’d be a good fit as a multi-layered and multi-quest companion—kind of like Serana. You think you’re signing on with a cool huntress who drops witty one-liners, but really, you’re running around with a self-loathing assassin with mommy issues.

The longer you run around with her, the more she opens up to you—as long as you cycle through her slowly building dialogue options. Eventually, you get the chance to pass a difficult speech check (made easier by allure/persuasion) and she’d give up being an assassin. This would spawn the quest to kill her mother and free her of those binds. She’d briefly leave your service to mourn, but she’d find you 48—in game—hours later in Whiterun. This would also open her up as a marriage candidate.

#follower dialogue #Eveyne Riassa #Artemina the Huntress #Artemina #flirting and sarcasm #sass #all the sass #meme

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genlirema · 7 years

Note

tell me more about that N ship

But of course! :D I would explain how they met but to keep it brief (since it’s going to take A LOT of words to answer this otp meme): They slowly bonded after helping each other with their mommy issues .-. I’ll write a fanfic about it one day I swear

who wakes up first in the morning: N. Steven tries to, but unfortunately his plucky green-haired pal is always one step ahead of him. Steven also tends to sleep over his alarm clock. :P

who’s the first to fall asleep at night: Probably Steven.Due to Steven adventurin’ all the time in caves, he can never keep a schedule and he tends to spend way more time than he needs to looking for stones. Thus, he’ll always come back home super sleepy. While N is better at keeping a sleep schedule, he is not a heavy sleeper. Though, there are rare cases where N manages to get a few z’s first.

what they playfully tease each other over: Let’s face it, they’re both geeky nerds. They love LOVE watching cartoons together. Their favorite show to watch so far is Steven Universe, and of course this warrants some silly remarks from N simply because a) Steven shares the same name as the protagonist and b) Steven’s obsessions with stones, including gemstones.“So, Steven, did you enjoy your space adventure to save your father?”“Yes, I had a great time trapped in a human zoo. The food was exquisitely bland and the humans were even more so.”

what they do when the other’s having a bad day: …That’s tough man .__.Well, N would certainly agree with me, because due to…ya know, living most of his entire life in isolation, he’d have no idea what to do. Steven actually has a really bad temper, so usually he’d just sit and wait it out until Steven stops yelling and calms down. If that doesn’t work, he’ll just leave the house. He knows that eventually Steven will realize he left because of his rage and he’ll calm down just to allow N to peacefully come back into their home.As for Steven, he’s all the more wiser when it comes to N having a bad day. If anything, N’s sadness rivals Steven’s anger, so he always keeps a box of tissues nearby in every corner of the house. He will refrain from speaking and simply let N spew out his emotions. Once he’s done, Steven will reassure him everything will be fine and the two will continue watching cartoons if they feel like it.

how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments: Like I said, N cries a lot. It doesn’t matter who wins the argument or how long the fight’s been going on, N will eventually burst into tears for “wasting their time fighting over ideals”, as he puts it. Of course, at that point Steven will end the argument (if it hasn’t ended already) and he’ll give N a box of tissues.As for Steven…he’d just say it. He’s not as…melodramatic as N (for lack of a better term). And of course, he’ll console N with a hug and a box of tissues if he needs it.

which one’s more ticklish: N.They don’t call Steven “Stone” for nothing :P Often when Steven does tickle N, N would try to tickle him back. He fails miserably of course, then he gets all pouty, then Steven tickles him again to make him feel slightly better, then N will whine again…and the cycle will repeat until either one of them gets tired of the whole thing :P

their favourite rainy day activities: While they love watching cartoons with each other, that’s not the only leisurely activity they do to pass the time, especially on a rainy day. N will often feel bad for Steven due to his stone collecting hobby, so he’ll always ask Steven to go through his rock/mineral/gemstone collection. N’s the only one who actually appreciates Steven’s hobby, and he never gets bored of hearing him go through his collection. Though, Steven can’t help but feel bad for N for asking about his collection (he’s always afraid it’ll bore him out), so he’ll often end with an: “Of course stone collecting isn’t the only hobby I have” and he’ll pull out his violin. Steven’s a natty violinist.

how they surprise each other: Again, another tough question. It takes a lot to surprise Steven. I mean, A LOT. Even if N were to attempt to surprise Steven with a stone of some sort that he thought was rare, Steven would always turn down the surprise with a: “I already have that stone” or “I’ve seen it before” or “That’s cool. Thanks for adding to my collection”. Needless to say, this bothers N a lot.As for N…it’s hard to surprise him as well. Perhaps it’s due to Steven’s stoic-ness, perhaps it’s due to N living most of his life in isolation (and thus, not being able to outwardly express his emotions properly (and despite this I still make him very melodramatic in my headcanon .__.)), but…yeah, Steven doesn’t know how to surprise N. Obviously, their relationship is a quiet one.

their most sickening shows of public affection: Speaking of the “N is melodramatic” headcanon that I have…his melodramatic-ness is actually a facade to help him understand human emotions, kinda like acting in a theatre/movie/tv show etc. And, the facade actually works. Too well. Let’s face it: in the real world, there are selfish idiots who playfully tease someone to do something for their own amusement. And when you’re in a gay relationship…I’d imagine this would happen often (don’t take my word for it though .__.). Just asking N to kiss Steven on the cheek is enough to warrant some awkward glances, mainly because a) Steven’s not used to N kissing him (because he rarely kisses him), b) those selfish idiots would go: “HA! GAAAAAAAAAAAAY” and would of course warrant everyone’s attention, and c) N would take the kissing over-the-top simply due to his melodramatic-ness and lack of knowledge for public etiquette. What makes their PDA “sickening” isn’t what N does, but rather, what or who motivated N to do it. Steven’s spent his entire life living in a rich home, so you would never expect any weird PDAs from him.

…I’ve fallen deeper into the madness of my own somewhat contrived OTP. WORTH IT.

#LONG POST IS LONG #...though I expected it to be so #.__.;#SteveN #steven stone #n harmonia #n pokemon #SteveN ship #answers

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supernatural-fanfiction · 4 years

Text

You Don't Know Me

TomiShaped

Summary

After being pulled out of hell Dean realizes quickly that the four months he had been gone made way for a lot of changes in the lives of everyone he knows, including the life he had known for himself before he died. Nobody was treating him the same, and there was seriously something going on with his brother that he could not figure out. He was spending most of his time alone nowadays, not really hunting anymore since Bobby and Sam were against it for him, and spending most of his time drinking instead to try and forget. He was angry, pretty much all the time. That anger really worked in his favour though when walking back to the impala he came across a freaking hoard of demons getting ready to attack some blond chick. He didn't know who she was or what the hell all the demons wanted with her, but there was no way he could just walk away. Maybe if he had any idea what trying to save this person was going to lead too he would have just walked away, maybe if he had actually given any thought to the situation before him he wouldn't have put himself in the middle of it, but even before hell he made impulsive and rash decisions... so maybe not.

Previous Chapters:

Chapter One: A Hoard of Demons

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Two: Welcome to the Batcave

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they had reached the car Dean made quick work of the door locks and got them both inside before he punched it, only leaving squealing tires and smoke behind them as they took off. Dean didn’t start to relax till they were a mile or so away from the group of demons, still keeping an eye on the mirrors though just in case. “It seems like you really pissed someone off," he said with a grin as he glanced over at the other while he drove.

Izrael shifted in the seat a little and rolled his eyes when he saw the man look out his mirrors again, "You can stop doing that now. We're fine, mommy lost us," he said with a shrug, leaning back in the seat again, trying to get comfortable. He was ready to get out of the Winchesters car now. And he would really like to do it without having to kill the hunter next to him in order to keep him from following or trying to track him. Even if he didn't have an issue with killing humans, he didn't know which way Dean's soul would go now and having it back in the pit after he killed him could possibly become… problematic. "So uh, yeah, you can just drop me off whenever now and can go get back too… whatever the hell you were doing before joining me at that lovely party tonight. I'm actually supposed to be at a different party right now anyways, so anywhere is good."

Dean snickered when the other said that they had crashed a few parties, it made sense. He did raise an eyebrow when he was told that the horde had backed off of them. Granted he hadn’t noticed any one but still, he never trusted demons to give up. “Well to be honest I was out looking for a good time and I guess I found it,” he said with a wicked grin, still feeling a bit of an adrenaline high from the fight and sprint to the car. “Well the rest of my evening is open if you want some back up,” he offered the blond. “Not saying you can’t handle yourself, I saw that you have some moves back there but twenty to one seemed a bit much,” he said while giving him a bit of a doubtful sidelook. “But I can drop you off wherever your next party is so you don’t get jumped on the way again…” he trailed off a little as he drove. “You could at least tell me your name before you get yourself killed.”

This is what Dean thought of as a good time? The human was either suicidal or crazy then. Sure, Izzy did have fun doing shit like this too, but he was a demon- he was fucking crazy. "Mmm, yeah… it was a bit much till you showed up. Definitely would have ended up losing this jacket," Izrael laughed a little at Dean and shook his head, "See, I haven't gone and learned my lesson yet it seems since I'm definitely gonna be crashing one of their parties again. Gotta find it first though, and I can't do that in a strangers car."

Izrael smiled at the hunter when he asked for his name, "Why would I give someone I've never met in this life my name? Doesn't sound too smart. Besides, I don't see you passing over that information either."

Dean raised an eyebrow when the blond mentioned that they weren’t done yet and was looking to start a similar party to where he just found them. Ok sure he had been doing stupid stuff since he got back but he had an excuse. He was trying to repress what felt like forty years of Hell. Literal Hell, so what was this kid's excuse? She might be crazy, but her crazy was also kinda hot and hunters like this don’t tend to stick in one place long because of the next big hunt. Besides, too often if they stayed in one place for long then all the enemies they made along the way had a tendency to catch up to them.

He grinned when the other responded back about giving names. “Sorry, thought you picked it up before things got hairy. I’m Dean, Dean Winchester," he said as he held a hand out to shake as he drove, glancing at the blond but mostly keeping his eyes on the road. “You know demons can’t keep their big mouths shut, if your next party is anything like that one they’re going to be ready for you and you’re going to lose more than your jacket sweetheart," he said in a matter of fact tone. “Might be a better idea to show up with back up and armed to the teeth,” he offered with a mischievous grin. “Lucky for you I know the perfect place.”

His excuse? His absolute only memories were of hell. Turning into a demon the way he had had wiped out all his human memories and the little demon only knew the last sixty years he had spent in hell training to do just this. He wasn't trying to repress hell, why repress when it was all he knew? He was just doing what Asmodues sent him off to do, and with the youngest prince of hell being the closest person to the blond and having nothing else to really do… he listened. He enjoyed killing other demons, it was a task he found fun. But when your job is to kill any demon that stands against the man you're working for, you don't exactly make any friends. And being alone only gave him more time to hunt down Asmodues's enemies. It was a vicious never ending cycle that wasn't going to chang anytime soon as far as Izrael could tell. Hell either hated him, feared him, or admired him from afar. Very afar. No one was brave enough to chance getting on Izzy's bad side. And those that were like the hoard tonight that actually tried to kill him were just too stupid to stay away and deserved to die anyways as far as he was concerned.

Of course he knew who Dean was once he heard his name. But the hunter didn't need to know that Izrael had heard of him. He eyed the others hand for a moment before he sighed and half gave in to the man, though didn't reach his own hand out, "Izzy Hilton," he said, using the name that Asmodues had given him for when he had to pretend to be human. Though he had no idea that it actually was his name. That Asmodues called him Izrael to see if any of the once nineteen year olds memories would spark with little clues like that. It never did. "They're always on the lookout for me… wouldn't be anything new…" he said with a little shrug, getting the gut feeling that this hunter was not about to let him go off on his own anytime soon. The last thing the little demon needed was to do spend time with a fucking Wincester, especially the one that spent all that time in hell. "No offense, but I don't really work with others. Thanks for the help back there and everything, but you're Dean Winchester… So you and I working together is a bad idea. Trust me."

He put his hand back on the wheel when the other ignored it and told him their name, snorting when he said that demons watching out was nothing new. He understood that, that's what made the Bunker so beautiful. It was the definition of a safe house for spooky shit and basically everything else. He sucked some air between his teeth when it seemed the other knew who he was by name, having heard some of the stuff hunters thought of him while he was putting in time at the Roadhouse. “Okay, that’s fair, I mean we did just meet and I just saved your ass from a rather large gaggle of demons but okay,” he said, half joking. “We don’t really know one another and inviting you to my secret Men of Letters bunker can seem a little Silence of the Lambs but I promise I'm a puppy dog compared to your normal party guests,” He said, not knowing just how wrong he was about that. And yes he did just name drop the Men of Letters to see if that helped his case. Dean wasn’t a creep and if Izzy wanted out he’d drop them off wherever they wanted but all horn dog habits aside he wouldn’t rest well if he did that. He’d probably end up asking around and looking into this pretty Izzy Hilton to see what her story was about. “Again I know bunker can be off putting but this place is huge, over twenty bedrooms alone to pick from. It’s armed to the teeth so nothing is getting in. I have one of the few keys to get in but you can get out whenever you like,” he added, trying to seem a little less kidnappy and rapey. “That and there's a hundred year old whiskey collection.”

Izzy had absolutely zero ideas of what other hunters thought of the man he was currently sitting next too. Up until now, he had done a really good job at avoiding them in his travels and work. Sure, to be on the safe side he did do some research on hunters who seemed to be the biggest threats but until now he hadn't actually met any of them. So right now he couldn't figure out if it was just bad fucking luck that Dean Winchester happened to walk in on his ambush, or some weird good luck to get him out of it unharmed. Even after over fifty years as a demon, almost sixty now maybe? He honestly had never actually hurt a human. So did he deserve this kind of bad luck? On the other hand though, can demons actually have good luck? It was really confusing.

Fact was, Izzy only knew of Dean Winchester from the mouths of other demons. His research on hunters I general was by word of mouth in hell. It wasn't like there were any books he could read on them. So he knew the man was obviously a good hunter, and not just when it came to demons. He knew the idiot sold his soul to save that dumbass brother of his that was hanging around one of the main demons on his own hit list. It was just really hard to get to the bitch when she was being protected by the hunter drinking demon blood. He only knew that from actually running across her once, he could fucking smell the demon blood radiating from the human she was with and it didn't take long to figure out who that human was and what fucking Ruby was doing with him. Little Sammy Winchester. Lovely. He also knew the man next to hum spent what was like forty years in hell, being tortured for most of them by fucking Alastair. It had come as a surprise when he heard that there was some sort of angel watching out for him. Well, the angel part wasn't really known when he figured it out. It was just known that the man was pulled out of hell and Izrael knew that an Angel was the only way the man could have escaped hell and returned to his body the way he had. And really, he would prefer to avoid angels. Most demons weren't really that much of a threat to him. They could likely hurt him but Izzy was not easy to actually kill. Not that they had quite figured that out yet. But he had no idea what an angel might be able to do to him.

“Like I said you need a magic key to get in but getting out isn’t a problem, locks behind you but I had to warn you the cell service sucks,” he said with a smile. He altered his route and started out of town and toward the bunker. The long ride to the bunker was pretty much silent after that, Dean was honestly a bit too nervous to say something and have the blond change her mind about coming. He couldn't help wanting to help her, wanting to figure her out at least a little. From wanting to protect the little thing and knowing that he would just worry about them at this point. “Just don’t take anything alright? Not really supposed to take people to the BatCave but…” he trailed off with a shrug after he parked by the bunker, obviously making an exception for the blond right now.

Dean decided to leave Baby in a little hidden knook they made for when they didn’t plan on staying long and putting her in the very nice garage. He just grinned as they walked up to the old green doors after grabbing a bag from the trunk and he pulled it open for the other. Once past the first threshold Dean unlocked the second doors and stepped through, holding it open for the other. “This is the legacy of the Men of Letters, a bit old and dusty but we’re still fixing the place up.” he said as they made their way down the spirling, metal staircase. He walked past the light up map table and tossed his bag on the first long table in the library. “Would you like a tour?” he asked as he turned to the other, smiling at them.

He just wanted a fucking book that explained how humans became demons. Without their souls spending hundreds of years tortured in hell. Asmodues had no choice but to tell him that he turned differently than everyone else when he realized he couldn't just jump from meat suit to meat suit like everyone else could. His soul never left his body, something in him changed while he was still a human. But that was all Asmodues would say on the subject. Honestly it was the one thing about his the man who called himself Izzy's master that drove him absolutely insane. He didn't care so much about whatever his human life was since he couldn't miss what he didn't remember or had any sort of idea what it might have been like, but he did want to know why he turned into a demon. Was he evil in his previous life? Is that how it worked? He remembered someone once saying that he must have cracked to change the way he did, but cracked from what and how? He just wanted to know how the fuck he came into existence. What made him so different from other demons. Why even Dagon, who knew that Izzy couldn't kill her without that oh so special gun, feared him to some extent. And nothing he had found so far explained any of that shit. Was he a bookworm? Mmm, debatable. Ask any demon who knew him they'd say no,, but Izzy was really good at keeping things about himself pretty damn secret. The less people knew the less they had on you and the safer you were. But the truth was that he did love books, loved to read and learn. And now that he wasn't under Asmodues' thumb at all times and had a mission to carry out, he was able to use research for said mission as an excuse to read. Sure, he was actually doing research but for so much more than anyone actually knew.

No phone probably should have set off more red fags then it did. Even if you were a loner it was useful to have one since pay phones were all but extinct. He tilted his own head when Izzy had mentioned bats, that had been a reaction he might have expected from Cas but really? “It’s not really a batca-... never mind. This is our fortress,” he said, just trying to get past what he felt was a painful moment. He turned on his heel and held up his arms out on either side as he gestured to the books. “This is the library. Nothing says stuffy bookworms like having a library right at the front door right?” He said with a laugh, turning completely to face the other as he walked around one of the tables.

Of course it wasn't actually a Bat Cave. It almost annoyed him that the hunter found it so easy to believe that the batman reference really meant nothing to the blond. Sure, part of him was glad too because he didn't want the fact that he enjoyed those comics to be known by anyone, but still… how stupid did this hunter think he really was if he believed that Izzy? He was pretty sure that Batman was popular among humans. It was the Winchester thinking he was dumb that bothered him more than anything though, because that was just not true. Izzy had always been rather smart, even before he turned, a near photographic memory. But with all memories of humanity gone, and those memories being from close to sixty years before anyways, all that was left was hell and the supernatural. And he figured that shit out quickly, easily. Humans, not so much. Humanity and what they were like and what they did like were never on his list of things he needed to learn about. Humans weren't his targets. "No offense, but you don't exactly strike me as the bookworm type," he said, moving around the table to go and look at the spines of the books, fingers running lightly over them. Yeah, this would definitely be his best bet at finding answers. Some of these were obviously old as fuck. "The kill first and ask questions later type. Though I suppose since all you hunters go after everything supernatural, you need the lore books, huh?" He personally didn't bother with any other supernatural beings, just the demons on Lucifer and Dagon's side. Which was probably a good thing for them, if this little demon were to ever start working as a real hunter with someone like Dean… they wouldn't stand a chance. As they had proved earlier… the two of them working on the same side had some pretty nasty consequences for those fighting against them.

Dean chuckled when Izzy said he didn’t seem like the book worm type, oh hell no that was Sammy’s department. “Yea no, that's more of my brother's thing,” he said as he walked over to the opposite wall, towards the small table with a few bottles filled clear, brown liquid and a few glasses. “I at least wait long enough to see what I'm fighting so I know how to kill it,” he said as he poured them a few glasses and headed to the closest main table to the blond. He leaned against it on his hip and took a sip from his glass while he held out the other to Izzy. The others wording did strike him as odd though and he raised an eyebrow a little. The way he said it was just off, but Dean wanted to think Izzy was just into demons than, and therefore could know some pretty useful stuff. That or maybe he was really green and thought of himself being different from regular hunters. His gut was telling him something was still off though, but he wasn’t sure what.

“You know, you never mentioned what you were looking into. I’m guessing something demon related,” he mentioned to the other. There wasn’t much small talk on the car ride over.

Dean noticed the small change in the others' demeanor when he showed them the room. The room didn’t bother him or his brother too much but ‘awesome’ wasn’t the normal reaction to this stuff. Though in this line of work, who’s really normal? You see a lot of weird and horrible shit fast and you pick up a few quirks along the way. He had half turned when the other called out to him and thanked him, he was going to leave Izzy alone to do their digging. He raised an eyebrow when he was asked why he was being so helpful. He opened his mouth with a grin to say it was just the right thing to do for a lady when Izzy said that last part, his words luckily getting caught up in his throat. BOY!? WHOLY FUCK!! Deans back straightened as he looked the other over again. It took him a second or two to catch himself and he cleared his throat out a little. “Well you want demons dead and I want demons dead,” He said with a shrug, his brain still trying to absorb this enlightening new detail about the blond. “And I learned about a new fleshy kind of demon, win win,” He said with a stiff chuckle. Hell all of Dean seemed stiff. Right now, he honestly didn’t know what the fuck to do.

Izzy watched the other actually curious for a moment to see if he would finally catch what he said. Aaaand, there it was! He had to give the hunter some props, he was taking the fact that he mistaked Izzy for a girl better than he could remember anyone else had. Demons especially hated him for it. Not for the same reasons that humans seemed too, most demons really didn't care what your fucking gender was as they body hopped so often, what they didn't like was that someone so small, sweet, and innocent looking was actually a deadly assassin sent by a prince of hell. And worse, he was good at it. Izzy looked away from him again and back at the book he was holding when Dean started to talk, crossing one leg over the other as he started to look through the book. "If the idiots would just abandon their stupid plans of trying to break Lucifer from the cage I would just leave them alone," Izzy muttered as most of his attention was back to the book in his hands, not realizing he even said it out loud or knowing if Dean had heard about what this specific group of hellions were planning. "I wouldn't count too much on actually finding one, I've only ever found info on one and I can't find that fucker for the life of me. I've never not found a mark before him, it was actually really frustrating…" he said, talking more naturally and easily than he had before with most of his attention focused on something else. He could feel his heart racing as he read through the pages. The first few were just about Cain. How he had become a demon. That was actually interesting even if none of what he was learning would help him track the mother fucker. Cain was the only demon specifically named though. After the chapter on him, the book went on to explain how because of him it had become possible for a human to turn. And what had to happen to said human for something like that to happen and Izzy found that for the first time that he could remember, he was grateful for something. He was really fucking grateful that he couldn't remember being human. Because this shit sucked.

Dean relaxed his shoulders when the other didn’t point out how obviously awkward his mistake was. It must have happened quite a bit and it was obvious as to why. Though he didn’t dwell on it for too long after catching Izzy mutter under his breath. So Izzy knew about Lucifer and over half of Hell’s plans to free him. Not too many hunters really knew what was going on, just that demons had been kicking up a shit storm lately. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the table Izzy was sitting on. He raised a brow when Izzy said he’d only found one and he couldn’t track him. “A mark?” He asked, not following him. “Do you think they could make more demons like that? I have a feeling they’d be a bitch in a fight.”

"Not a mark, my marks. Whatever demon I'm hunting at the time," Dean really did get kind of lucky that Izzy had found this book if he wanted to ask questions. The lithe demon was only half paying attention to whatever he was saying, basically only enough to make sure he didn't let the fact that he was one of these demons slip out. "Though he does actually have a mark that turned him in the first place. Didn't know that." Izzy nodded without hesitation at the other males next question though, "Definitely. Seriously time consuming and difficult, but not impossible. Looks like when it does happen, it's usually an accident. And they are definitely totally awesome in a fight. Stronger than a knight of hell but not quite as strong as a prince. And not easy to kill. Our knives won't kill one of them." The book didn't actually tell him that last part, he knew it from experience back when Asmodues was first training him. He had kinda lost his temper at the pretty little blond and actually fucking stabbed him with the same knife he now had hidden in his boot. All it did to the blond was piss him off though. It ruined the dress he was wearing and had left a nasty little scar in his side where he had been stabbed. "So unless your Cain with his first blade or have that colt and bullets that you killed Azazel with, or yanno, a crazy person like me, I would avoid looking for one of them." He took in a deep breath as he slammed the book shut, trying to not let it be seen how incredibly fucking furious he was right now. Well, at least he knew why Asmodues was so keen on him not knowing how he turned. "So uh, yeah. Thanks for the info. Great fucking room ya got here. But I gotta go find a certain prince and tear his fucking head off somehow," Izzy said, his voice showing he obviously was not happy with what he just read if his words didn't give that part away. He was caring less and less about whatever fucking cover he was supposed to be playing here. He couldn't fully remember right now what he had let on that he knew about the man in the room with him but he no longer really cared. He pushed himself down from the table and went to move past Dean, "Nice to meet ya and all that shit and like, thanks for the help…" he paused for a moment to look at the hunter again, fuck it. Dean gave him access to the information he so desperately wanted, he figured he could return the favour with some info that Dean probably actually needed, "By the way, you really should probably get your brother away from Ruby because bitch has him all fucked up, pretty sure that people shouldn't actually be drinking demon blood the way he is. Pretty fucked up. So yeah. Gotta go."

“Oh they sound great,” Dean said when Izzy confirmed that more could be made this way. “Oh yea, awesome,” He shot back when Izzy went on about them and described them that way and mentioned that the knives were worthless against them. The only good thing that was mentioned was that apparently they were only ever made on accident and there were no rumored army’s full of them. He had noticed the others snapping of the book and the anger rolling off of him, clearly having read something he didn’t like. “Oh yea that sounds like a feasible plan, how do you plan on getting in Hel-?” He was cut off by the other male thanking him for the help. “Wait.” He said, not wanting the other to run off and get killed while half cocked. He didn’t get a chance to say anything else because what Izzy said after that shut him right up. “Wait, what the hell are you talking about?” He asked, his voice showing his own rising anger. “And how the hell do you know who he’s with?” He asked him. This ment Izzy knew who they were before he ran into him tonight. He started reaching for his pistol in a back holster without thinking much about it. “Who are you?” He asked, taking a step back and raising the fire arm.

Izzy rolled his eyes as Dean called after him when he turned and started to walk to the bunkers exit. If he did leave here right now, he really would go straight to the youngest prince and try and kill the fucker somehow. "Oh come on Dean, you're pretty and reckless but I didn't peg you for being stupid. I hunt demons. Ruby is a fucking demon. And your brother is running around with her. Do I really need to connect all the dots for you?" He stopped for a moment when he heard the click of the firearm and rolled his eyes again. Really? First time he ever tried to actually help someone else out and they pulled a gun on him. Not that Dean's pistol would actually hurt him, but he had been serious when he mentioned he liked this jacket. He didn't feel like throwing it out because of a bullet hole after he managed to actually keep it through the ambush.

He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. "I was after her. I really can't fucking stand her. Unfortunately for me, your junkie brother was in the way and I couldn't get close enough without having to kill him first, and since I don't kill humans that wasn't exactly an option." He waved his hand at the pistole pointed at him, looking more annoyed that Dean was pointing it at him than anything else, "But I swear to fuck if you pull that trigger that'll change real fucking fast as I will slit your fucking throat." He wasn't reaching for the knife though, he wasn't scared of the gun and wouldn't pull it unless Dean actually did attack him first. After all, he didn't know the bullet wouldn't hurt him, he would definitely be trying to kill him and Izzy didn't take well to that happening. Threats were usually whatever, a dime a dozen when you did what he did, but actually trying to do it was another thing completely. "Now do you wanna play this game with me too or do you mind if I go now?"

Dean narrowed his eyes when Izzy said he hunted demons. He didn’t say anything for a minute after Izzy said all that and threatened retaliation by cutting his throat. His jaw was tense but he eased the hammer back and lowered his gun. He didn’t like anything he had said. He just knew Izzy was keeping something from him but… he was telling the truth about his brother and Dean hated it. He kept his hard eyes on the blond as he put his gun back in his holster and he pulled out a small piece of paper from his back pocket and grabbed a forgotten pen on the table. He didn't say anything as he quickly jotted something down, folded it and handed it to him. “In case you do something stupid like take on a prince of hell and want back up,” He said, his voice was quiet and calm. His reboiling rage wasn’t aimed at the blond any more so he tried to keep it from exploding on him. He had seen what he could do with that knife of his.

The anger at the hunter seemed to dissipate when he withdrew his weapon and put it back in the holster. Smart move, because the little demon had been deadly fucking serious about retaliation if he tried to shoot him. When Dean handed him that paper and said that, Izzy couldn't stop the confused look that crossed his face. Seriously? They both just threatened to kill the other and Dean was offering to back him up again a second later? What the fuck went on in human fucking heads? He really didn't understand them at all. At least not this one. And this happened to be the first one he spent any length of time with. "Right. Not gonna happen, but thanks? The backup thing. The prince thing is totally happening." After nearly sixty years around Asmodeus, Izzy didn't hold any fear of him. The prince needed Izzy and they both knew it. Besides, that was a long time to spend with anyone, and since the prince had wanted Izzy a secret until he was ready he had been the one Izzy trained with most often before he started throwing demon chum his way to practice with. Izzy knew that mans every fucking move.

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