HoleoDemony

Hello! I am a person who is, well, bored. I mostly do, fandom things, music things, etc. SCA peep. Fandoms include TMA, Trigun, Good Omens, and Plague Rat. Oh, I also like history stuff. And Gravity Falls. And WTNV. And Pokemon. Malevolent. Just. A lot of things. Like bugs. Bugs are cute. He/Him pronouns, trans. Alt account is @holeodemony-does-art

[ba1laur]

i made this ages ago and never posted it because i thought its cringe and poorly written lol. its also technically not finished. since im ripping off the bandaid and moving on from trigun. it deserves to see the light, but take it with a grain of salt. until i manage to get over this rancid feeling, i think this makes for a fitting final post and my farewell 2 the series

[chillestfelix]

noticed by goose again...but at what cost

[dailyvolo]

[wegotfoodathome]

This is my side of an art trade with the lovely @sharktunarts her OC, Terra, and Corbeau 🫶😛

“You’re late. What are doing all the way in the North district?”

Terra huffed. “Look, it’s not my fault!”  She hauled herself over a ledge, and onto a lower rooftop, her red rotomphone following behind her head. “A little girl lost her fletchling. I had to chase, like, every bird in the street down!” 

Corbeau went silent for a moment. Before Terra found something snarky to say, Corbeau hummed. “You’re just great at finding trouble, aren’t you?”

“I guess, seeing as how I’m stuck with you watching my every move.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t wasting my time!” 

Terra grunted as she pulled herself onto a ladder and began to climb. “You say I’m wasting your time, but you seem to have a lot of time set aside for following me around.”

“Tch. Maybe if you were doing what I asked of you, like what is in your contract, I wouldn’t have to babysit you!”

“Hey! I’m getting your jobs done. I haven’t failed a single one yet!” Terra brushed him off, stepping around a patch of grass on the rooftop. Various budew stared her down as she passed. “I’ll be there in 5, okay?”

Terra hung up on Corbeau before he could respond. 

~

It took 7 minutes, and two declined calls from Corbeau, for Terra to arrive at the cafe where they agreed to meet. 

Corbeau was already present, sitting at a table outside with his back to her. She recognized the purple chain from his glasses draped across his suit, and the unmistakable cut of his hair from afar..  

A few meters away, Terra stopped in the street. She took a breath to compose herself in an attempt to avoid looking as thought she'd been rushing. Terra repositioned the loose pieces of hair that hung around her face, pushed her sunglasses up her nose, lifted her head, and squared her shoulders before approaching the table. The closer she got, the stronger the coffee aroma lingered in the air, and the glint of two ceramic mugs sitting on the table with Corbeau caught her eye. 

Corbeau’s legs were crossed, palms resting on his knees. He peeked at her through his glasses as she circled around the table, the circular lenses catching a flare of sunlight when he tilted his head over. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

“What’s this?” Terra pointed to the white mugs on the table. One sat before Corbeau, and the other was pushed to the seat across from him. 

“Coffee.” 

Terra scoffed. “Coffee?”

“Yes.” He wrapped his hand around the mug in front of him. “You took long enough that I already went through the trouble of ordering drinks.” Corbeau pointed to what Terra presumed to be her mug. “Disgustingly sweet. Just the way you like it.”

For just a moment, Terra just stood at the side of the table. She glanced at the coffee, then Corbeau, then back at the coffee again. “You didn’t poison it, did you?”

“You’ll have to find out.” He lifted his own coffee to his lips, taking a slow, dramatic, sip from the mug. As he lowered the drink, he grinned. “Come on. Sit. I don’t have all day.”

Terra didn’t sit. 

Rather she continued to stand at the side of the table as she cautiously took her mug, savoring the warmth of the heated ceramic in her palm, before lifting it to her nose. She didn’t actually think he poisoned it, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. The drink smelt normal, and when she lifted it to her lips it tasted wonderful. Sweet, without hardly any of the bitter coffee taste, so much so the drink was many shades lighter than Corbeau’s. She smiled into the mug, before wiping the grin off her face and setting it down.

He did remember how she liked her coffee.  

“Well?” Corbeau frowned and motioned to the chair across from him again. “Sit down.”

“How much was the coffee?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“How much?”

“Just sit down! We have business to discuss.”

Terra huffed, and sucked her cheek in. She tapped her foot on the cobblestone road, her shoe clicking with the contact. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” Terra glanced up and into the coffee shop. She inspected it through the window, eyes glossing over the pastry cabinet inside. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry? Seriously?! You’re not really going to-”

Terra walked off, pushing the cafe door open. It creaked, and the bell overhead chimed as she made her way to the front counter. As she ordered, she could feel a pair of snake eyes glaring at her from beyond the glass, though it did nothing to deter her (though the barista seemed to notice, and looked a little uncomfortable as he kept glancing over her shoulder. Terra dropped some extra cash in the tip jar as an apology). When the barista stepped away to get her pastries, she turned around and stuck a tongue out at Corbeau. His eye twitched and veins popped out from his forehead. 

Terra laughed. A grin lingered on her lips as she turned and thanked the barista, taking two warm plates from his hand. She carried them back outside, pushing the door open with her hip before setting the plates on the table, one by her drink and the other by Corbeau’s. 

Corbeau eyed the flakey croissant on the plate, and then her, and then the croissant again. The veins on his forehead relaxed as he closed his eyes and shook his head. “What are you even-“

“There.” Terra flopped into the chair across from Corbeau. “We’re even. Now we can get down to business.”

Corbeau huffed through his nose, and closed his eyes.

Terra took a slow, victorious sip from her coffee. 

When Corbeau opened his eyes again, a smile grew on his lips. “Perhaps you were right. I was a bit hungry as well.” 

Terra raised a brow. “You’re agreeing now?”

With a nod, Corbeau lifted his croissant and tore a small piece off one side. It broke with ease, bread flakes falling onto the plate below. He then dipped the croissant into his coffee, swirled it around, and took a slow, savory bite. 

Terra blinked. 

“This was a good idea.” Corbeau took another maliciously slow bite. “Who knew.” 

“You’re just wasting time now!” Terra threw her hands into the air. “You were the one that wanted to get to business!”

“Well, we shouldn’t let this lovely pastry go to waste.” He frowned. “Besides. If you didn’t want to waste time, you would’ve gotten here on time.”

Terra groaned, slouching back in her seat. “I told you it wasn’t my fault! Sorry that some of us have a heart.“ 

Corbeau just shook his head.

Silence passed the seconds between them. 

Corbeau took another piece off his croissant. 

Terra glanced between her croissant and coffee, and pressed her lips into a line. Her stomach growled.

Had she even eaten breakfast? Probably not. The past few weeks she’d been so busy she’d skipped a few meals- there simply wasn’t enough time to sit down and eat if she wasn’t with Team MZ.

Her stomach growled again, and her resolve crumbled.

With a dramatic huff, Terra grabbed her croissant and took a bite. She washed the pastry down with her drink, the sweet creamer melting her tense shoulders. 

“I don’t know how you drink that disgusting stuff.” Corbeau scoffed, dunking another small piece of pastry into his drink, the black liquid seeping into the breading before he took another bite. He hummed, almost contently, but it was so quiet Terra wasn’t sure she’d actually heard him do it. 

“I don’t know how you drink that bitter crap.” Terra pointed to Corbeau’s half eaten plate, now covered in croissant flakes. He’d eaten quickly- maybe he was even hungrier than Terra was. “Plus, now you have food floating in your drink.”

Corbeau rolled his eyes. “It's a delicious Kalosian tradition. You should try it.” He glanced over her mug, lips curling in disgust. “Though, maybe not. I don’t know how it will taste with such a sweet drink. Nasty, I’d assume.” 

“I’ll pass.” Terra wrinkled her nose. 

A bird cried overhead. Suddenly, a fletchling swooped down, landing on the edge of the table.

Terra jumped, and instinctively covered her croissant with her palm. 

She missed how Corbeau straightened almost protectively at her reaction. 

Realizing it was only a bird that had startled her, Terra groaned. For a moment she thought it was the fletchling she’d rescued this morning, or maybe the one that she’d accidentally woken up when she fell into a tree the other day. She couldn’t tell for sure, none of the markings on the pokemon standing out, but either way she worried it was a bird seeking revenge.

The fletchling's head twitched as it looked around with large black eyes that Terra could see her own reflection in. It seemed to stare at Terra, only briefly glancing at her food, and then Corbeau’s, before hopping off the table to scour the ground in search of leftover crumbs. 

Corbeau hummed across the table. He tore what was left of his croissant into two smaller pieces, and then split one into an even smaller piece. He tossed it to the ground for the pokemon that took it without hesitation. Bread in beak, satisfied with its venture, the fletching took to the skies once more. 

He smiled. It was a soft, almost gentle smile, the realest one Terra had seen him wear. 

At that moment, Terra thought Corbeau looked cute.

…what!?

Corbeau turned back to her, and nodded his head towards the croissant still hidden under her palm. “I didn’t know you were so protective of your food.”

Terra shook her head. “I’m used to wingull.” She reached for her coffee mug, glancing at Corbeau over the top of her sunglasses. “Those birds are monsters! They’ll dive at you for any crumb of food you have, and they’ll fight you for it too.” She grimmed, her lips lingering at the edge of her mug. “This one time, a wingull took my earring literally right off my ear!”

“I didn’t realize they could be so vicious.” Corbeau laughed, covering his lips with the back of his palm, “I suppose if you get homesick, you can always take a trip to the coastal region. I hear wingull are plentiful there.” 

Homesick. 

Terra swallowed her coffee, but the word got stuck in her throat. 

Homesick.

Was she homesick?

She missed a few things. Terra missed Tori and the rest of her team, her parents, and her friends, of course, but did she miss her home? 

Terra thought of returning to Hoenn; reuniting with her fans- the crazy ones that would probably be waiting at the airport for her-; hiding whenever she wanted a cigarette or a glass of wine again; the horrible brand sponsorships. 

She glanced over at Corbeau for a moment. 

This meeting could never happen in Hoenn, not without the appearance of paparazzi or intrigued stares and rumors about their champion that would spread like wildfire. 

…

Now that Terra thought about it, she wasn’t quite sure that she did miss home.

Terra didn’t know how she felt about that.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Terra shrugged, “maybe if I ever get some personal time. I’m so busy working myself to the bone for a crummy loanshark that I don’t know if I’ll ever see a free day again! And on my vacation too!” 

Corbeau raised an amused brow. “How unfortunate. Perhaps you should be more careful about who you associate with.” 

“Maybe you should be more careful about who you give loans out to.”

Terra’s phone suddenly rang, the rotomphone flying out of her bag and into the air in front of her. Urbain’s name crossed the screen. 

“Speak of the devil.” Both Terra and Corbeau mumbled. 

Their eyes widened and jaws dropped as realization hit that they spoke in unison. The shock turned into a mutual glare. 

“Hey, Terra!”

Urbain’s greeting forced Terra to fix her face. “What’s up?” 

“Vinnie just called. We have some pokemon to help.” 

Terra frowned. She knew exactly what he meant- more rouge mega pokemon. It seemed like they were becoming more and more frequent with every week that passed. That fact made her a little uneasy. 

“Okay. I’ll be right there.” She hung up her phone. Suddenly she grabbed her coffee mug, and chugged it all at once.

“Leaving so soon? After I dragged myself all the way out here?” Corbeau huffed, but it lacked his usual bite. Terra stuffed her croissant in her mouth and met his gaze. There wasn’t any real annoyance written in his face, she’d seen his annoyed expression enough times to know that. “You’re never going to pay me back at this rate.” 

Terra finished chewing, and stood as she swallowed the pastry. “I told you: you should be more careful who you give loans out to.” 

Corbeau raised his hand and waved her off. “Your next job is going to be double the work” 

“If you make me pick up trash, I’m dropping the bag in your courtyard.” Terra pushed her chair in. 

“Don’t give me any ideas.” Corbeau laughed. 

“I’m being serious.”

“As am I.”

Terra huffed, but the corner of her lips twisted up into a gentle smile. 

For a moment, she lingered. 

She hadn't realized how relaxed she’d felt sitting across from Corbeau. Now that she was up, and had more fires to put out, she found herself not wanting to leave. 

If she didn’t have poor pokemon to save, maybe she would’ve sat back down and kept talking with him.  

A fletchling flew overhead. 

“Look, I’ll talk to you later. Just text me the job.” Terra nodded, forcing herself to turn and begin towards Hotel Z. She broke into a sprint after a few sluggish steps to keep her momentum going. 

Corbeau watched her leave, golden eyes following her trail before she disappeared down an alley and out of sight. “Be safe.” He mumbled, his voice not making it any further than his lips. 

He ignored the aching in his chest as he finished his coffee.  

[sharktunarts]

this shit was so cute i had to draw it ty chrys for my life

[mildmayfoxe]

1) any stretching is better than no stretching

2) any vegetable is better than no vegetable

3) statistically you will never be the worst person at anything, there is always someone in the world who is worse at stuff than you are

[elvenfaur]

Manga vash boots!!

[succubusboyfriend]

you have permission to pick that 2 year old "abandoned" project back up. it's not mad at you for setting it aside. and maybe time and distance have helped ease or erase the things that made you put it down in the first place.

[maykitz]

the persecution of lefthandedness is insane to think about because it was so intense for so long, in some places still is, without any clear profit motivation. sheer love of the game. as late as the 70s at least they were smacking my stepdad's hands for it with a wooden ruler at school, to this day he's in weird ambidexterity situation where he's not great with either side and notably clumsy due to poor hand-eye coordination. just wtf

[seeingteacupsindragons]

It is fascinating to me that people also think of handedness as an example of bigotry that just...went away. As you note, it...hasn't in some places. I know people who grew up in the mid-late 90s who still had this problem.

But also, and this is really important to keep in mind regarding bigotry that still causes in many ways larger problems, that the structural problems are not actually fixed.

If you go to any computer lab or public library, the mice will be on the right side of the computer. Sometimes they can be moved. Sometimes they can't. Many computer mice are curved to only fit in right hands.

It is impossible to find lefthanded scissors without going to a specialty store, because most scissor makers don't even make them. And it's not just a matter of grip; the slicing side of the blades is obscured if you use righty scissors in your left hand, so your cut is off.

All those signing pads with the little chained styluses? Almost always on the right side, often not even long enough to stretch to the left. Makes signing for lefties extremely difficult.

I caused actual muscular problems in college having to twist around in order to write at right-handed desks in college when there weren't enough lefty desks--and there never were. Some classrooms didn't even have a single one.

I could go on.

But the point is, bigotry isn't just a mindset shift. People can't just decide they're not bothered by that particular difference anymore and everything's fine, because society is still structured and designed to cause problems for marginalized people. And they're never even going to notice all the little ways their life is bent to convenience them that inconveniences others.

[kkelenca]

When kiddo was learning to write, their teacher—who was a beautifully kind, caring, compassionate person who even thanked me for making them aware of certain kinds of left/handed supplies, because their new toddler was a lefty and they’d never even thought about it—was teaching the kids a method for word spacing that involved placing their free index finger down at the end of each word and then writing the next one.

Pause for a moment, especially if you’re right-handed—and I’m being serious here, physically do this if you have two functioning arms and hands—and grab a writing tool in your left hand. Now place your right index finger down and try to start writing a word next to it.

Yeah. Great technique, huh? Really convenient and comfortable and easy. 🙃

I sent in a small baggie of small popsicle sticks I’d custom painted for them and labeled with their name for kiddo to use instead, but ultimately they stopped because it wasn’t as convenient when nobody else had to get something out.

Writing in English is difficult enough when you’re left-handed (most of our letters are designed with pull motions, but lefties must push), but even other foundational basics are made more difficult than they have to be, because their needs aren’t considered, even in situations where overt hostility isn’t intended.

Even now, in an older grade, they’re now all sharing a lot of the supplies, but my kiddo has their own pair of labeled lefty scissors they keep in their personal cubby. Teacher was 100% chill with me sending them in, but didn’t even consider to take the step further when I’d asked about whether or not they had them to just… get some for all the lefties. I know there are other kids, know some of them personally. (I made a set of writing spacing sticks for the single one that I knew of back in 1st grade.)

Regarding computer mice? Kiddo had standardized testing last year. They do it on chromebooks now at their school. They did their entire first day with the track pad instead of the mouse, because none of the teachers proctoring or assisting even knew you COULD switch the sides/toggle a setting to switch which button was the dominant select. We happened to have one at home thanks to remote learning during Covid’s early days, so that night we sat down together and found the setting ourselves so they could fix it the following day. But on a student account at school, they couldn’t change that setting. And? None of those teachers knew enough about technology to be able to override it. So even when I went above and beyond and personally sought out the skills and tools to help my child level the playing field on their own, the teaching staff was so unaccustomed to even considering this as a need or problem, that they weren’t able to remove the incredibly basic barriers to a fair schooling experience.

And this is honestly a good school, with staff that care and work hard and take 99% of bigotry concepts very seriously, teach about truth and compassion and how to recognize at this kid level a lot of the basic seeds that can grow into hate and hurt and also healing and helping. But the fact that left-handed needs are different? It is so ingrained to default to right-handed layouts that even left-handed staff don’t conceptualize these problems, because they were taught the exact same way.

[crownkeeper]

before there were blorbos there were little meow meows and before there were little meow meows there were cinnamon rolls

[hooved]

FUCK it was in parallel australia

[chortlebot]

before someone screenshots this and posts it elsewhere this is me

[xalatath]

I have never, and will never, use "ofc" to mean "of fucking course". It literally stands for OF Course...

[our-queer-experience]

you all deserve BETTER

[charl0ttan]

long distance friends pets feel like celebrities because you can only be parasocial with them

[gothvince]

i talk about transitioning and all anyone ever says is "I hope you don't regret it" what if instead we said I hope you love it. I hope it's everything you ever wanted. I hope you live the rest of your life in utter bliss. etc etc.

[gothvince]

I hope you transition and I hope it's the best thing you ever did and I hope you never look back and I hope you finally feel comfortable in your own skin

[holeodemony]

MAN, today's a great day to

eat a chocolate muffin the size of my fist in three bites

become obsessed with a character from a nonexistant fandom

discover a cyst

get grossed out about the texture of sand dollars

wear glasses with only one half of the frames attached

stay up until 4 am and then panic about getting to bed

learn piano

Remaining time: 6 days 14 hours

[sandersstudies]

Me, Catholic, walking into a Protestant church with no depictions of Mary: where’s my mom

[fuitgummyworm]

Me, culturally Protestant, walking into a Catholic church filled balls to the walls with paintings sculptures candles and god knows what else: why’s there so much stuff

[fantasticmojo47]

Me, Orthodox, walking into a western church:  w h e r e   a r e   t h e   b o n e s

[odin-n-out]

Me, vampire, walking into any denominational holy place: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[hungry-hyena]

Me, a janitor, sweeping up the vampires ashes: where the fUCk did all this dirt come from

[worldheritagepostorganization]

World Heritage Post