#except they're correct and they happened

[adharastarlight]

Reg: I'd hate to be straight, imagine all the pregnancy scares

James:

Remus:

Sirius:

Marls:

Lily:

Barty:

Evan:

Pandora:

James: my love, you're trans-

Reg:

Reg: we are never having sex again

Sirius cheers in the distance

[sysig]

Requestober 2023 Sketches

The playlist has returned for this year! There will be a few in between, but it should be updating at least once a week on either Wednesday or Friday or both - keep an eye out for your req(s)!

Day 4 got some subtle Black Eye, they are a great pair ♪ You can see I couldn’t fully decide on posing - this will be a theme lol - maybe Sylvia loafing and poking her nose up at Peepers? Or just man-handling him into a snuggle lol, I almost went with that one! But I still ended up going with the first sketch after all, his half-squinted eye was too cute to pass up!

Day 6′s first sketch was also a first-try-correct but lemme try something else lol, I’m glad I went with this one though! Friend looks very fluffy, as does Ghostbur <3 Thank goodness for digital cleaning, Phil’s arm completely confounded me traditionally lol, same with the wings actually

The alt is still cute tho, and sad :’) Ghostbur would still consider Phil his dad! And yes he’s not exactly Will, Phil’s kid ahh </3 And yet he still gets to hug him!! The piece of him that remembers him! It hurts ♥

Day 10 was a great excuse to draw blood lol, I can’t not ♪ I ran out of room since this was the last sketch of the page so while I fully intended for the bloody knife to be continuous with the rest of him, I had to puzzle-piece it all together haha ♫ He’s so scribbly lol

Day 15 was so fun!! Ahhh!! As I mentioned in the tags, I got the notification for this one while I was offline and dozing but even in that state of mind, this was the image that immediately bloomed in my head! I am so pleased I got to make it exactly as intended haha ♪ They’re so cute <3 And it’s always fun to draw Mitsu reacting like “O//o//O” even just in emoji form lol

Day 16′s was fun and silly - I only ended up with the one sketch, it’s been too long since I’ve drawn a Core! It hasn’t been all that long since I’ve watched a Meet the Cores but it has been long while since I’ve picked up Portal 2 or Mel, it’s too bad ‘cause they’re both so cute haha. But I mean, all this Portal stuff has inspired me to get back to playing so hmmm :3c

Day 17 had those two options but for me it wasn’t even a question lol - I do of course love RGB but I’ve made a habit of drawing him! And I did get to draw him later as well, so I got all the character diversity I could ask for haha. I’m so sad that I missed out on the “tk” SFX in the final version, I made it and then just forgot to turn the layer back on before exporting lol, just hear it in your head if you would ♪

Day 18, more blood! Moreeee! Thank you for all the Yanderapy attention this year ahhh, it’s so gratifying to know these boys are being enjoyed ♥ I love them too! And it was doubly fun to imagine them playing into their baser urges, yandere-wise haha ♪ What’s the fun of a yandere if they can’t have a little blood, as a treat? Hehe ♫ Mitsuru’s swirly eyes are one of my favourite yandere features of his, drawing it in full swing was really fun :D

Day 19, a bit of Ranboo ♥ It’s been long enough that I’d forgotten how much I enjoy Ranboo! c!Ranboo as well as The Guy haha, they’ve gotten more chaotic lately it seems, good for them. He’s also still quite fun to draw, that’s just good character design for you ♪ A cute little squished face, wanting to go out and play. You can kinda tell from the flower boxes that even traditionally I wasn’t all that detail-oriented for this one lol

Day 20 got a lot of concept art! Making new outfits will do that lol, started with just deciding what their sweets theme would be - Mitsuru was so obviously ube and buttercream that it hurts lol, and you can see there was a bit more deliberation with Ishida. Salted lemon, and he was supposed to keep the lattice motif - we’ll get there :P

Outfit designing! Ishida’s was a OHKO - you can’t see it in the final version since he’s angled away but his buttons are salt stones! And he’s also got asymmetrical salt “freckles” around his left eye :) Mitsu’s was a little over-complicated so he needed a second pass

But only a second pass! A chunky sweater with the swirls was absolutely the correct choice, and then since zippers don’t exist in the JD universe (lol) he gets buttons!

Finally they got their final version! You can see from the sliced version that originally they were meant to have three sections apiece for both limbs, buuut that ended up being overly visually busy, so I gave them two for their arms and three for their legs :) All the other posing and everything was pretty much perfect though! :D

This is the most correct version of their clothes for their cut-up frame; I was in a bit of a rush for the gif version so a few elements are missing, like Ishida’s aforementioned lattice design element :’D Just try to not look too hard at the final version for these details specifically lol ♪ Oh the foibles of trying to be speedy!

Technically not Requestober but I was inspired by my own idea of them switch-stitching their limbs back together lol - lemon ube?? I guess that might work...

Day 21 got a concept sketch before starting - Luci’s glares are very cute hehe ♪ I was sure I could push it cuter tho >:3c

And I was right! I called this an alt but honestly this was the correct choice from the beginning lol ♪ Long ears are so fun to pose, extra expressions! I had a bit of trouble with his arms, but I think that’s just a me-not-knowing-how-to-draw-arms-lately thing lol

Day 22 was also very close to the end of the page so I was a bit cramped! Their faces are definitely the most important element - especially considering RGeeBs has one here! - so I wanted to give them a bit of extra attention. I really like his sharp nose hehe ♪ And Hero’s hand doing the classic cartoony pinky-up with her white gloves ugh it’s so cute <3

They did get a very tiny fullbody sketch tho haha ♪ For how it turned out here, I’m doubly happy with RGB’s pose in the final! Especially his legs :D

Speaking of tiny, day 24 was super tiny!! I always draw the stick figures tiny tho haha, they’re such cute little pops of colour on my page :) I’m glad as well that I could make all the colours clean digitally - the colours got a bit mixed traditionally lol

Fun fact: Day 25 didn’t get a traditional sketch! It’d been too long since I’d drawn GLaDOS so I felt a little better to just have the references right there in the same canvas lol. My initial digital sketches are always a bit chaotic, lots of very energetic lines! It does make me all the more determined to make her design readable in my style >:3c

I started forgetting to label what day they were around day 26 haha, but I started with them side-by-side - I wanted them to show off their outfits a bit more but it felt a little stiff :P Obviously Sinister would be uncomfortable in heavier clothes tho, so I went with that thought ♪ Poor Stanley haha

The alt ended up taking it since interacting is way more fun than not! I haven’t drawn Stanley using sign language in a hot minute which is too bad! It’s very fun to do! He’s not going to listen to you Stanley, no matter what you do

Day 28 gave me a bunch of thoughts but since it was fairly open-ended, I wasn’t sure where to take it at first! Angst just has so many possible roads! Initially, featured here, I considered them getting caught - them in a police light was a very cool concept for my lighting-focused brain this season haha - but it still wasn’t quite right. Maybe because Ishida actually looks stressed, noo D:

The plot just kinda picked up from there, the idea of Ishida killing Mitsuru since they were caught, and then what I eventually ended up with - all while trying to fight against limited space and a not-the-best art day, just gotta keep powering through despite the obstacles!

But I did finally land on the idea I wanted the most :) Originally this one was going to have two panels but I couldn’t make it look right, switching back and forth between them :P I’m glad I finally got to it in the end! It was a struggle haha

Day 29 got Fellplates!Gaster! Heck yeah! :D It’s been a while since I’ve drawn him so I had to get back into the swing of it lol - I actually booted him on “April 1st” by changing my clock and then my internet refused to connect to certain sites?? What the heck is that about. Well either way, I got him! He is cute haha

I really was tempted to give him something to do with other Fellplates members, but the lack of references confounded me! Ah! You can probably tell which one was meant to be Alphys huh lol ♪ Him and his sense of loyalty ah 💔 Well, self-destruction is a common ley line for him huh haha

And then what I finally ended up with ♪ He has a slightly more open expression here, but I do like the somewhat sinister edge the final version ended up with :3c The backlighting begged for it!! And everyone needs cool backlighting haha

Day 30′s TSP/Portal crossover!! It’s such a classic idea, I am actually honestly surprised that this is my first foray into it - I’ve thought about it forever! I’ve drawn them adjacently! But this is my first time actually drawing them interacting?? How?? Well I’m glad I have now haha, they’re so- they’re just so them, y’know? Lol

Y’get a bonus because the idea of Stanley and Chell just kinda vibing in a test chamber and Stanley reacting - which you can see the barest of unfinished sketch there on the right lol - to having his Bucket taken from him, it was too good not to haha. Chell is indifferent lol

Day 31, last day! I actually drew this the night beforehand, very quickly thus the scribbliness haha. Sometimes that’s all you need, just to get the image out! You can see with the SFX, despite being noiseless in the final version, I was thinking of the static right away :) I’m quite happy with how it all turned out hehe <3

That’s all the general sketches from this year! A good solid mix of things! Very fun :D

[blujayonthewing]

well I just spent an hour digging through my own dnd notes and social media and also almost cried because I mentioned, in passing, something justin had said about one of his NPCs and he, completely lightheartedly, was like '?? I don't remember that at all. [I mean I'm not making it up?] I think you might be making it up 😏'

[irregularbillcipher]

"if you think that kryptos was from flatland and you believe bill genuinely cared about him, meaning he had some fort of actual human connection to another flatlander, why did bill still end up destroying the place? wouldn't kryptos trying to stop him have either made him reconsider his actions, or made him get rid of kryptos entirely?" well you see when bill was burning flatland, kryptos was whooping and hollering and breaking out the champagne

[knaveofmogadore]

Kfkdks

[artist-issues]

Disney doesn't need to change "the formula." That's the last thing that Wish proves.

What Wish proves is that "the formula" only works when you know why the ingredients are in it, and you use them the correct way.

The Princess Character is meant to wish for only half of the movie's message, and go through an adventure that teaches her what the other half is; what her dream was missing. Ariel dreamed of understanding but she was missing love. Tiana dreamed of achieving her goals but she was missing faith. Jasmine dreamed of freedom but she was missing trust. Belle dreamed of adventure but she was missing being understood.

The Villain is meant to highlight the opposite of the movie's message. Jafar gets what he wants through trickery and manipulation; that's the opposite of Aladdin's "truth will set you free" message, and he gets imprisoned in a lamp. Scar thinks being a King is having his way all the time and can't learn from his past of living in Mufasa's shadow; that's the opposite of The Lion King's "Let the past remind you of your responsibility to selflessness." Gaston loves only himself and is always obsessed with appearances; that's the opposite of Beauty & the Beast's "true love is found within a heart of self-sacrifice." That's what makes them such good villains. (and that clear direction is what drives good villain songs, since Magnifico's is what everyone is talking about)

The sidekick is supposed to compare/contrast with the main character's qualities. Abu is a greedy thief, which is what everyone in Agrabah thinks Aladdin is; when he scolds Abu and teaches him selflessness, it shows us who Aladdin actually is. Flounder is easily frightened and looks at the glass half-full; when Ariel coaxes him and leads by example, we see her bravery and positivity reflected in Flounder's tiny character arc. Timon & Pumbaa do whatever they want all day just like young Simba always dreamed of; when Simba goes to live with them, he finds that "getting his way all the time" makes him forget who he really is and feel empty.

The setting is supposed to show off the characters and highlight the movie's message. Rapunzel's tower is designed to be pretty on the inside because of her influence; if it were too dark and prison-shaped, we'd wonder why she didn't work up the courage to leave sooner. Just like how Quasimodo has made his corner of the bell-tower beautiful, too; they're taught the world is cruel and they're not strong enough for it, but they make their own worlds beautiful enough to hint that that's wrong right from the start. Ariel's grotto is shaped like a tower with no roof so that she only has one window to the forbidden Surface, and it's the light that comes from that forbidden world into her dark grotto which literally makes her able to see human things differently. Tiana's apartment has no interesting features except her father's picture, a perfectly made bed, a drawer with no extra outfits but stuffed with tip money, and only two dresses; both of which are for work.

None of that is happening in Wish, because they didn't know why the formula ingredients are there. Disney needs to understand and return to the formula the right way; forgetting it was what got them here.

Asha learns nothing to add to her dream, unless you count "the power to grant wishes is in me." Which you shouldn't, because we didn't even know she was confused about that until the animals sang a song that was completely off-topic and she had the chance to jump in and sing "I'm a Star!"

Magnifico does not demonstrate the opposite of Wish's message effectively because his character has nothing to do with a philosophy against making wishes, and everything to do with power. (He is the strongest character in the film. But because the message and core concept of what wishes are are so bad, that's not saying much.)

Valentino, and Asha's friends, do not highlight anything about her character through compare/contrast. Valentino is brave and all over the place. Her friends are seven-dwarfs parodies. Happy, Doc, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful, Sleepy, Grumpy. None of that contrasts with Asha's vague characterization of "cares too much." None of it compares to that characterization, either.

The setting is empty. There are no interesting details that teach you something about any of the characters. None in Asha's home, none in the neat-and-tidy one-dimensional forest, none in the Rosas square, and none in the bland, empty castle. Magnifico's study is the closest anything gets; there's a loose concept that all of Asha's friends have to work together to open the roof, and take a leap of faith to weigh the pulley system down. Unfortunately, none of these characters is shown struggling to work together, OR to take leaps of faith, at all, before this point.

The ingredients of the formula are in Wish. They're just not being used correctly. This is how not to use the formula; it's not the formulas fault. If it ain't broke. They should never have let people convince them to try and fix it.

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for drawing and writing amputees: The prosthetic needs something to hold onto

Prosthetics need to be able to hold on to the body.

If you're giving your amputee something similar to 99.99% of modern prosthetics, this will be done through a socket. This is a ridged cup made perfectly for the amputee that holds the prosthetic onto the body. Older prosthetics (mostly anything before the 90's) made the prosthetic socket intentionally tight in spots, which is what held it in place. Some people with sensitive skin still use this style of prosthetic but they've mainly fallen out of use in favour for suction sockets. These sockets create a vacuum seal that holds the prosthetic in place. These can work in two ways, either just by forcing excess air out of the socket and creating the seal that way, or for some legs, sucking that excess air out and into an "ankle" mechanism to offer some extra suspension and padding in the step.

Some prosthetics will also use additional measures as well as suction, such as pin-locks, where the amputee wears a sock with a screw at the bottom that clips into a mechanism at the bottom of the socket, or a prosthetic with movable panels that can be tightened via cables running through the socket.

I've used all of these except the pin lock socket, and they all have one thing in common: The sockets need as much space as possible. For prosthetics using suction in particular, this is to spread out the amount of force being applied to the leg. If all the suction is being applied to the end of the stump, it's going to get sore and could even damage the skin. If that same amount of suction is applied to a much wider area, it's going to feel less intense. Likewise, older prosthetics needed as much space to work with as possible too, as applying tight pressure to a small area as opposed to a larger surface to keep the tension isn't good for your skin or muscles in that spot.

For this reason, the sockets will take up all of the space available without limiting movement, meaning they will go all the way up to the next major joint. An amputee who lost their hand through the wrist will have a socket that goes all the way to their elbow. An amputee who lost their leg through or above the knee will have a socket that goes all the way to their hip.

Sometimes, if an amputation is particularly close to a major joint and there isn't a lot of space left between the stump and the next major joint, prosthetists will opt to immobilise the closest joint and take the socket all the way up to the next major joint. This was something I've actually discussed with my prosthetist. My left leg is amputated below the knee, but I only have a few centimetres of space below the knee. That leg occasionally needs revisions, meaning they take the very tip off of the stump to help correct issues with weird bone growth, scarring, infections etc, but if I get another revision, my leg will be too short to comfortably wear a socket, so my knee will need to be immobilised and my leg will become, functionally, an above knee amputation, despite still having the joint. This is rare, but it happens on occasion, showing that sometimes that need for space trumps even the use of a still functional joint. It's really important.

I wanted to bring this up because I see a lot of people draw sockets on their amputee's prosthetics, but they're much too tiny to be comfortable!

I did mention most prosthetics use a socket, but not all do. Some old prosthetics did not have sockets and were held in place using other methods.

This is a "prosthetic" my prosthetist found in his company's back room. He's not sure when it was made, but together we came up with an estimate of it being made around the 70's for a through-hip amputee (meaning someone who's whole leg was amputated with no stump at all)

It's designed so that the user would rest their hip on the cushion and use the handle to hold it in place and move it in time with their walk. This kind of mobility aid isn't often used anymore (me nor my prosthetist have seen one out in the world), and seems to have faded in use during the 80's as sockets were invented that could better hold onto the hip and pelvis for through-hip amputees and the use of wheelchairs for amputees became less stigmatised.

There's also A new type of prosthetic has been developed called the Osseointegration prosthetic, which also doesn't use a socket either. These are very rare as they are incredibly expensive and still very risky, but these prosthetics bypass the socket and implant the prosthetic directly into the body through a rod planted inside one's stump bone. This rod has a clip at the end of the stump, so the external part of the prosthetic can be removed as needed (and replaced). The reason they are risky though is that they are EXTREMELY prone to infection. I only know one person who had this implanted successfully, but he has to be very careful to keep his leg clean or else it will get infected (and it frequently does, he's constantly on antibiotics). Everyone else I know who got it had to get it removed.

With time these implants will get safer, but we are a very, very long way off from that right now.

[jaysgirlx]

Can you do a fic based off of https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRcsG8Yu/ this TikTok when Jason and reader was talking and it got deep and he joked about off!ng himself and the reader sits with him all night just in case he wasn’t joking? Please? I love your writing so much and if this is a touchy topic feel free to ignore or correct. Have a nice day!

❝ 𝐈’𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❥ pairing: jason todd x civilian f!reader

❥ summary: Jason and you are close, you always have been so close that you thought you knew him well enough to read his mind except you're wrong about that, and what you learn ends up scaring you more.

❥ warnings: mentions of death/suicide/afterlife, reminiscing of torture, heavy angst, little fluff, happy ending

❥ wc: 1.5k

Your fingers, combed through Jason's black locks while he focused his attention on you. The two of you had moments on these where you sat together in a comfortable silence. They tended to happen when one of you was upset, usually you but tonight you could tell something was wrong with Jason. So you kept quiet and let him rest. You didn't know if late nights like these would last forever.

"How long are you going to play with my hair princess?"

"Until you tell me what's wrong Jay"

Again you both fell into a silence. This time it was awkward like maybe you should've played dumb but it was too late night to think that. Jason sighed and sat up on your couch and laid his head on your lap. You tried to remove your hand from his hair but he gave this look like this is what he needed at least for tonight.

You weren't sure if or when you and Jason had crossed the friend boundary. The two of you obviously had not slept together but you had kissed numerous times. Sometimes when he was anxious you'd kiss him just to calm him down and it worked, except for the fact you'd end up making out. Or when he would go on patrol and you were worried he would kiss you and then he'd end up cuddling you till you slept off. The kisses you both shared were like little reassurances of love. Though the two of you never actually spoke about what they really meant.

You had wanted to for the longest time but you didn't because in the end you always knew that Jason cared for you. You could tell by the way he always left you breakfast when he had to leave while you were asleep or by the way he'd walk you home if you had decided to work overtime. Jason cared in his own little way and you take what you got especially since he made the best pancakes.

"I fought with Bruce today, he took Dick's side on something and I just got mad…I know they both care, but it doesn't feel like it sometimes y'know? It still feels like they're Batman and Nightwing and I'm still Robin" He stopped himself from speaking further like if he spoke more, he'd say something he'd regret. Jason didn't want to drop all his problems on you because he knew you would listen and he knew you'd comfort him. You did so much for him and was slightly worried he was becoming too much. Jason didn't want to become a burden to you, he enjoyed spending time with you and he didn't wan to fuck that up.

"I've always got your side Jay if that helps and you're not Robin anymore okay and regardless of that, Robin didn't make you…well you" you say, caressing his face. "You're just you Jay and if they've got a problem with you well then they have a problem with me"

"Well, I think I hate myself if I'm being honest" Those words made your hands stop and now you started to really listen. You knew Jason wasn't exactly happy with his life but you didn't think he hated himself. He was so cocky all the time that you couldn't even fathom the idea of him hating himself. "These days getting up in the mornings is so difficult and a good night's rest…I don't remember the last time I had one"

"Well I think we all can relate to that, life kinda sucks for all of us Jay. Everything we do is out of our hands and it seems like no matter how hard we try we're never fully just happy"

"You got that right, the last time I was really happy was…well nevermind, But sometimes I think about killing myself"

"Well I mean we all have, I thought about it a couple of times when work gets hard but-

"No y/n, I mean like really killing myself, like just putting my gun to my head and that's it." He laughs but you still don't manage to find it funny. "I know damn well there will be plenty of people who will probably find it pretty, my brains splattered everywhere and my body lifeless"

"I'd really prefer you'd not do that Jay"

"Okay but in all seriousness-"

"I don't want to hear this Jay"

"I'd want you to plan my funeral, you'd make it beautiful and hopefully not gloomy"

"Jay is this a funny matter, stop joking around"

"I doubt there's an afterlife, seeing that I did die once and I don't remember any floating gates or firey pits"

"Jay please stop it"

"C'mon we both know without you, I'd be better off-"

"No." you said and it came out broken. Jason looked up at you, you weren't playing with his hair anymore, you were crying. He tried to reach up and your tears away but you pushed away his hand. He hadn't meant to upset you, he didn't mean it. Well, he did but he wasn't going to, not when you still cared for him. You were what he was living for. "No, you can't do that Jay"

He again tries to wipe your tears and this time you let him, he sits up and kisses your forehead wishing he had never said anything. You were his world and all he could ever ask for. Without you, who would be there for him after a bad run on patrol? or when his nightmares would start coming back? Deep down Jason Todd is scared of living, he's scared of living without you. "I won't sweetheart, I won't, I promise. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said any of that"

Now he's holding you and rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. The two of you fell back into your comfortable silence, while Jason made himself comfortable again laying his head on your lap. He hates seeing you that way, with that look of fear and worry. He never wanted to cause it. He wanted to say something but all those hours of patrol and working overtime finally caught up to him. He thought he'd just take a nap, he didn't want to burden you with how heavy he was, lying on his lap but he couldn't help you, your lap was so comfy.

For a while, you watched Jason and didn't know why you were. He said he wouldn't hurt himself, he promised. Still, you were scared because of the way he talked about it...it was clear it wasn't the first time. You knew he had fallen asleep, his tell was that his breathing had slowed. You picked that up when he started coming over early in that morning to nap with you. Jason was only ever truly calm when was he asleep with you.

Watching him like this felt natural like you had to do this. You knew he was serious about killing himself and you just couldn't imagine a life with him, without Jason. Gently you caressed his sleeping face, admiring how handsome he was. The things that happened to him, you knew they affected him but you didn't want to think he'd go as far as to…no you couldn't think of it.

You leaned your own body back on the couch and tried to relax. You'd stay all night with him if you had to, you'd make sure he was safe. You weekend a vigilante like him, you couldn't fight and protect him from villains but you could protect him from himself. It probably seems crazy that you want to protect Jason Todd from himself but it's all you know how to do. You're not completely sure if Jason loves you but you know that you love him.

"I will always be with you, I'm yours Jay, I'm with you" you whisper sweetly against his forehead, before planting a soft kiss. You watch him all night and he sleeps quietly and hopefully comfortably with his head resting on your lap. You didn't work the next day and you had stayed up all night before, this wouldn't be difficult for you.

Even if it was, it was for Jason and he was always worth any trouble. You wish you could tell him that but that's a conversation for another time, for now, you just want to make sure he is still alive every morning.

When Jason Todd wakes up the following morning, you're drinking what he thinks is probably coffee and reading a book. His eyes fixate on you and he reaches up to brush his hand against your face, you smile at the soft touch. HE lets out a yawn and finally speaks up, "Whatcha doing up so early, princess?"

"Just admiring you Jay"

"M'sorry for sleeping on you, and I'm even more sorry for making you feel upset last night, you're…you're very important to me y/n, and as long as you'll have me, I'll be here"

"And I'm with you, for as long as you'll have me" you say with a smile as you hand him the rest of your coffee. He drank the rest before gently pressing a kiss to your lips. Another reassure of his love

Jason Todd was yours for a lifetime and you were happy with just that.

❥ a/n: sorry this took so long anon! I kept rewriting it because I didn't like how it was going. btw comment to be added to my taglist.

❥ taglist: @meowkn, @nia-jul, @woodenanemone, @millyhelp, @yourlocalcringydaydreamer, @kazzattack, @orchidsangel, @gleasonlovesjasontodd, @jason-anon

[infinizero]

Ok so

There is this trope about ghosts not reaching maturity until they've been ghosts for several centuries

There is ALSO the trope that ghosts fight as a sort of way to communicate

With the power of these two tropes combined-- I give you this strange headcanon:

Ghosts become mature adult ghosts after 500 years.

Danny and his usual troublemakers are all in the same "daycare".

He's just the youngest + most unique ghost so they like playing around with him the most. In other words, it's the ghost version of older siblings ordering their younger siblings around

As far as ghosts go,

There are blobs, ghost animals, shades (those are ghosts as we know it) and ghosts (aka Infinite Realms Beings) etc etc

The blobs and etc are, well, blobs and etc

But ghosts need a while to fully grow up and be considered adult

And so, if these ghosts are children, they need guardians or caretakers at the daycare right?

Correct

Baby ghosts are under the care of the nearest authority (Ancient or Leader or etc etc)

Except baby ghosts usually stay near where they were born and Danny and Co just so happen to be near Pariah Dark

Pariah Dark is asleep

But Fright Knight is there!

Except Fright Knight is also sealed

And it's one thing to wake up the ultra powerful megalomaniac tyrant kinda parent figure but not really you're supposed to have and another to drag your oldest adult sibling out of their room to touch grass

In other words, the surrounding authorities just went eh the babies can contact fright Knight if anything happens

But then Danny defeats Pariah and inherits his authority

So he technically becomes the caretaker of baby ghosts in the area while being the youngest baby ghost himself

Hence the other ancients visiting and *playing* with him to see if it's ok to leave the babies with this other baby

And since they're ghosts who don't have human guidelines or morals, decide that since he's that strong it should be fine to leave it alone

Besides he has Fright Knight! Good 'ol Frighty will definitely help out this new baby kid ghost with doing everything!

Meanwhile, Fright Knight waiting for Danny to come claim the crown and ring: ...

Cue Danny's rogues coming up to him to show him shit they accomplished

Youngblood : Phantom look at this cool baking soda volcano that spews out real lava!!

Danny: It does WHAT

Youngblood: Look!

Danny: NO

Ember: Hey Babybop wanna listen to the new song I wrote? It compels humans to start cults based on my name!

Danny: Ember, no

Ember: I think you mean Ember YES

Skulker: Ghost boy I have skinned an alien and brought you a pelt turned into a coat

Danny: ...you did WHAt

Skulker: It is nearing winter time and one must always be ready for winter time

Danny, having an existential meltdown after seeing his parents and Vlad get it on together: Desiree what the actual fuck??? Did you do????

Desiree: I merely fulfilled a wish

Johnny: Hey Phantom look we got matching tattoos to celebrate our anniversary!

Kitty: Wait what did you just say?

Johnny: uh, we got tattoos for our anniversary?

Kitty: ...our anniversary is in TWO MONTHS. THAT was for my DEATHDAY.

Johnny: ...oh shit

Danny, about to soup them both: Man, get good

Lunch Lady: Phantom have you eaten your proteins today?!

Danny: uh... Yeah?

Lunch Lady, already throwing meat at him: EAT MORE

Danny:

Box ghost: WITNESS! THE GREAT BOX MECHA!

Danny: oh come on seriously

And on the other hand,

Walker, dumping ten piles of paper in Danny's room: Phantom, here are the latest forms that need revisions

Spectra: What do you MEAN you're not allowing me to open a beauty salon in order to dig into other girls' insecurities and maintain my own beauty?! That's why it's called a beauty salon!!

Cujo and Wulf who are both the best boys and favorites, with smug faces:

Fright Knight still waiting for Danny to accept the ring and crown:

Plasmius: What the heck is this weird feeling my ghost side keeps making me feel??

Plasmius: is it... Is there perhaps a ghostly way I can adopt the little badger??

[cryptidghostgirl]

Drawing Down the Moon (Alastor x Ancient Roman!Witch!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any? Please correct me if I am wrong. The subject matter is a little niche.

Description: Alastor reencounters an old friend.

Word Count: 2,871

Master Lists:

All Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Alastor Master List 

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

A/N i’ve been reading about roman magic laws for school okay?? don’t judge me. Maybe one of the nichest things I've ever written (except that one Akutagawa x Reader fic I have on my Wattpad where I made them talk to one another in ancient Greek and Latin (its called Leo, Leonis and tbh, that fic slaps if I do say so myself)). Won't be surprised if no one reads or likes this one but I don't care. This will be a monster of a fic, she's been lurking in the recesses of my mind for a hot second now.

"Why would she lie for so long? Does she think I wouldn't accept her?" Charlie was animatedly talking at Alastor as they walked the streets of Hell, "What about me, ME, says un understanding... misunderstanding?... Disunder- Wait, w-where are we?"

Alastor sprung to life as Charlie finally asked a question he had an answer to. Theatrically, he stepped into her curious line of sight, his arms held wide.

"Cannibal Town!" respectfully, Alastor turned and took Charlie's arm in his own, "There's a friend of mine I think you should meet."

"In Cannibal Town?" Charlie doubtfully asked as Alastor began to lead her towards a crowded shop entrance, "But it's... it's... surprisingly nice here."

"Isn't it, though?" Alastor proudly replied, "And it is all thanks to a very special someone."

Alastor opened the stained glass doors to the emporium, allowing Charlie to walk through them before he followed in her wake. The store was full, packed to the brim with cannibals of all sorts, all of whom seemed to part respectfully in the face of Alastor, allowing him to approach the front counter with Charlie trailing after him.

"Ah, Johnny my good fellow." Alastor hummed to the cashier, leaning casually on the counter.

The demon seated behind the table looked up with a wide smile.

"Mister Alastor, it has been quite a while since we've seen your face around these parts."

Charlie watched the interaction in mild surprise. It wasn't often she had the pleasure of meeting someone Alastor knew who didn't hate him or want him dead. Curiosity clouded her mind as Alastor waved the man off.

"I don't mean to be rude but, we're in a bit of a rush." Alastor said, politeness pooling delicately around his words, "Rosie wouldn't happen to be in, would she?"

"Ah, well, you see, Mister Alastor..." the demon seemed slightly uncomfortable, scratching at his ear slightly, "She's a tad... preoccupied at the moment?"

"A guest?" Alastor asked.

"A guest." Johnny reluctantly confirmed.

"Well, no matter. Is she in the back?"

"Yes," Johnny got to his feet, leaning forward as Alastor linked arms with Charlie once again, leading her behind the counter, "but I really don't think it's a good idea to... and they're gone."

"Wasn't that rude?" Charlie asked as Alastor pulled her behind the curtain that separated the main store from the backrooms and Rosie's apartment, "Oh no, is that guy going to get in trouble? Because of us?"

"Everything will be just fine my dear, don't you worry." Alastor patted her hand reassuringly as they came to stop before a door.

Letting Charlie's arm fall free, he straightened his jacket just the slightest bit before knocking on the door. There was a moment of silent anticipation before a voice from the other side called:

"Who is it?!"

"Alastor, Rosie." Alastor replied calmly.

There was a rustling of fabric, a handful of hasty footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal a woman. She was tall and beautiful in her long dress and her wide brimmed hat.

"Oh my stars!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, "Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor? Alastor! Where have you been? These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and-"

The woman, Rosie, trailed off as she caught sight of Charlie standing beside her dear friend.

"Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you. Oh, I'm just kidding. But where are your manners, Mister? Introduce us, why don't you?"

"Ah, yes, Charlie, this is Rosie: the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the pentagram."

At his words, Rosie smiled, giving a perfect curtsy. It was as her form lowered that Charlie caught sight of the interior of the room, and the strange seated figure it housed. Alastor seemed not to have noticed and as Rosie straightened herself up again, she laughed slightly.

"Oh, always such a charmer."

"And Rosie," Alastor continued, "it is my pleasure to introduce you to Princess Charlie Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell."

Charlie smiled weakly, waving slightly at the imposing and nearly off-puttingly cheerful woman.

"How do you do?" she asked awkwardly, "I am very sorry for interrupting your meeting, I tried to get Alastor to wait but..."

"Oh, yes!" Rosie suddenly exclaimed, almost as if she had forgotten about her previous guest in all the excitement, "Come on in you two, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Charlie was about to protest when Rosie grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the room. Alastor followed, turning his back as he shut the door behind them. Charlie's mouth fell open slightly as her eyes finally saw the truth of Rosie's guest.

She was tall, probably tall enough to rival Alastor or Rosie herself. Skin tinged slightly blue, she seemed to be covered in a faint gold dust that clung to her draped, toga-like dress and skin in equal amount. Heaps of gold jewelry hung on every inch of her as well, wrapping her wrists, her neck, her ankles, her fingers, even braided into her hair. Resting atop her head was a crown of gold with a half moon on it, her feet were bare. With wide, white eyes that nearly seemed unseeing, the woman watched Charlie carefully.

"Can I offer you something to eat?" Rosie was asking, but Charlie could barley hear her, unable to break eye contact with the woman, "I'm sure I have a leg around here or something..."

"I am afraid were not here for food." Alastor thankfully stepped in, turning to Rosie with closed eyes and a wide smile, "We happen to be in need of some help."

"Alastor?" the woman spoke and her voice resounded in itself, loud yet soft at the same time, singular and yet somehow plural.

"Well, aren't you fresh."

That was the first thing she had ever said to him. Alastor had been wandering Hell, minding his own business when he had heard that voice say those words and felt a fire ignited in him. Slowly, he had turned around to see a pair of towering demons. Overlords, he realized, and big ones at that. Alastor's smile sharpened at its edges as he began to formulate a plan.

Charlie turned at last, as if whatever spell the stranger had cast on her had broken at the sound of her voice, to look at Alastor in mild confusion. She heard his breath hitch in his throat. The man in question was frozen, his ears twitching wildly, his eyes now wide open.

"Is that you?" the demon asked again.

Alastor somehow seemed to reassemble himself before their very eyes. Slowly, he turned to the room's only occupied chair.

"Who are you?"

Alastor feigned innocence, looking up at the titan herself as she took a step forward. In an instant, she stood at his height, looking him dead in the eyes.

"An odd one too." she hummed thoughtfully, white eyes tracking the stars, reading his future it almost seemed, "Most people go with what before who."

Alastor was unsure how to respond to that one. The titan chuckled, a grin flashing across her face. It was unexpected, disconcerting. Alastor hadn't thought her face capable of any expression save solemn disinterest. She turned her head slightly to the side, looking back over her shoulder to her companion.

"Zestial, cara mea?"

The spidery demon took a step forward, meeting her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Don't you have something you need to be getting to?"

Alastor may have been dumbstruck, but he wasn't stupid. He heard the order as clearly as if she had not bothered with the formalities of disguising it. It shocked Alastor to his core. This might be his first time encountering Zestial but, he had heard the demon's name before. Most frequently, it had been spat at him by his victims who claimed that one of Hell's oldest and most respected demons would come for him. So who was this other overlord, the titan? Sure, he'd heard of her before but enough that such blatant disrespect towards Hell's most respected made sense? No. Not at all, in fact.

Zestial paused a moment before bowing his head slightly.

"You're quite right." he hummed, "I will be seeing you presently I expect?"

"Perchance." the titan lazily replied, her gaze having long since switched back to Alastor, set on analyzing his features, "I'll let you know."

With another polite bow, Zestial had turned and began walking in the opposite direction. The titan held an arm out for Alastor. He looked at it curiously before meeting the demon's eye's again. She laughed.

"So suspicious. I thought you we're the one killing overlords, not me."

His eyes went wide.

"How do you..." he cleared his throat, "how did you know?"

It was a stupid question and he knew it. There hadn't been any secret keeping, not really. Sure, he never outright said he was the Radio Demon who broadcasted screams but he supposed there couldn't be many Radio Demon's out there really. It didn't matter that he had only been going after overlords for a month or so now, she was one. Of course she would know.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

All it took was one look. Suddenly, he was new again, spat fresh out of life on Earth and in to Hell's gaping maw. One look at her, and he dissolved at the edges, forming and reforming his own ability to speak and comprehend the world around him.

"It is." the woman hummed, a wide smile breaking across her face, revealing the blackness of her teeth, her mouth.

Alastor soon formed a bit of a soft spot for the inhuman overlord. It was that first meeting, that first walk. He had asked, hunting for information to wield against her, about her life on Earth and in Hell. It was her fault really, for answering. That's what had him stuck.

Y/n had laid her life out for him like a freshly pressed table cloth. She had been raised on the streets of ancient Rome and executed as a witch. She was perhaps the oldest demon remaining in Hell, the exterminations having eventually wiped out even the strongest members of her times. Just as Alastor had been reborn as a deer due to his death, so too was she reborn as what they had accused her of. Every ritual, every spell, prophecy itself all worked for her. It was then Alastor understood the interaction he had witnessed between Zestial and Y/n, then he understood the respect.

He found himself drawn to her more and more and, somehow, he always seemed to be able to find her when he went searching. He assumed it was some strange magical nonsense she controlled. Alastor didn't question it.

Y/n showed him Hell in a way he had never seen it before. She taught him where to gather herbs and how to use them, how to bend the earth to his will, how to spin iunges and call down the storms, the rain, the moon. Alastor devoured, fed by her hand.

It was odd, Charlie had never seen a demon like her before. The white eyes, the teeth black with what seemed to be darkness, the gold. All of it was off putting yet somehow, captivating. Alastor seemed to be acting weird, his eyes flitting wildly across the woman, taking in her every detail. Charlie wasn't sure what to do about that.

In some sense, Alastor seemed to be scared. In another, he was in an overjoyed state of disbelief. Charlie wasn't sure which was more disconcerting, or how to respond to either and so, she simply watched.

"I have a question, mea ocella."

Y/n announced one day and Alastor turned from where he sat spinning stories into his microphone at her feet. That was what she had called him, her little eye. She told him it was a term of endearment. Alastor had no reason to doubt. The red grass swayed slightly in the breeze as he looked up at her, immediately bringing a halt to his broadcast.

"What is it?"

"You've been so set on ending all us overlords for so long now," she hummed, "wouldn't you like to do something different?"

"Something like what?"

"See from the other side of the glass."

Her white eyes glowed blue, the gold on her skin shining out into the world around like stars. Alastor sighed.

"You're prophesying again."

She nodded in agreement. Y/n had never seen the point in lying, she had never known its use. Not since before she could remember, back in the times she lived. They were so distant now, so immaterial and unimportant she rarely payed those memories much mind.

"So, what is it you see me doing?"

"Simple riddle or play on words?"

The two types of prophesy, the two options. Alastor put a finger to his chin, humming in thought.

"Simple riddle. Please, not in dactylic hexameter if you would, decoding that always gives me a headache."

"But that has been the meter of prophecy since Justice herself sat on the Delphic throne, mea ocella." Y/n retorted in surprise, meeting Alastor's eyes.

"Yeah, well."

Y/n laughed lightly, looking back out blankly toward the future.

"As you wish, ocella. Just this once. My gift to you."

Alastor hummed his non-comital thanks, turning his gaze back out the the skyline of the city as well.

"One will be two, two will be four, when that number comes be ready for more. Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next. Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three."

"Rhymes? Really?"

Y/n looked down at him, the glow fading from her as their eyes met and the future vanished from the scope of her vision.

"You asked for no hexameter, I still get to have fun."

"Yeah, yeah."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence. Alastor ran the words of her fortune in his head, trying to gain any semblance of reason from them.

"They don't sound very... avoidable."

"That's because it's not one of the ones you can change."

"Oh."

Y/n pulled herself to her feet suddenly, her chiton swirling around her. Alastor watched in awe as her image flickered in the air for a moment between the image of herself just a head shorter than him, the one who loomed around nine feet tall, and some three headed monster at what must've been five stories. Leaning, she held a hand out for him to grasp. It took Alastor a moment to realize, shaking his head slightly as he at last accepted Y/n's help and got to his feet.

"Where are we going?"

"I've decided you are going to be an overlord, mea ocella."

"Why?"

"I think it might help you down the line."

It had been years since Alastor had seen her. Long before he had taken his so called seven year sabbatical, Y/n had vanished. Alastor knew she wasn't dead, he would have been able to tell if she was dead. Surly the world would have shifted in some new and strange way to lose the goddess of the crossroads, the titan, Hekate made flesh and blood. Nothing like that had happened and so he knew she was alive, just not where or how.

Y/n's prophecies were always accurate. Standing here before her now, Alastor recalled her words from all those decades before.

One will be two, two will be four. When that number comes, be ready for more.

One had been just him. Two? When he had died and met his shadow. Alastor realized now that three had been Y/n herself and that the fourth important person who had come into his afterlife was the very person who owned his soul.

Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next.

Seven years he'd been gone, indeed under an unexpected and disastrous situation. When, after seven long years, he had returned to Hell, he had gone to the hotel. It was at the Hazbin Hotel that he not only met Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Sir Pentious but that they became vital parts of his life along with Husk and Nifty who before then had mostly existed on the periphery. Those six, plus the original four, made ten.

Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three.

All along, all those years ago, she had known. Alastor had always respected Y/n, always harbored a soft and disconcerting love for the witch. Never before now had either felt so overwhelming. Alastor took a trembling step forward from his place at Charlie's side. The world closed in, she was the only thing he could see.

Y/n smiled as he sunk to his knee before her, his head bowed.

"Mea ocella." she happily hummed, lifting his head up gently with the tips of her bluish grey fingers.

"Y/n."

----

This fic will probably have a part two.

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

[panandinpain0]

Could I ask for an Edward Cullen x male reader where the reader is Bella’s best friend (who moved right after her)- He ends up becoming infatuated with him instead, and they just have a happy time??

This is Different...

Twilight timmmmeee- time to reach into the archives of my memories and pull random facts from my ass.

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy <3

@@@

Requested by: Anon

Edward Cullen x Male!Reader

---

Bella had to kept telling herself to wait just one more week, because then (Y/N) would be there and she could vent to him about how weird this town was.

The two had grown up together in Arizona and were practically inseparable. Their parents did that thing where they were convinced Bella and (Y/N) were going to date and get married and all of that, which just isn't happening. But it made his dad easier to convince when they asked if (Y/N) could move to Forks, Washington with Bella.

(Y/N)'s parents had just gotten a divorce and his dad was moving anyways, and he was old enough that he just wanted to stay with his dad (and little sister that would come to visit every once in a while) until he was an adult.

So after Bella left to Forks, (Y/N) and his dad started packing their bags and started their trip.

Bella could not wait to tell him about the school, the weird but oddly charming students, and the standoffish Cullen family.

Finally the week came to an end and Charlie drove Bella to pick them up from the airport.

(Y/N)'s father, James, had planned to buy a car once they got to the new house, but Charlie had so kindly offered to drive them until he did get one.

At the airport Bella ran up to (Y/N) and he caught her in a hug, laughing at her eagerness.

"Looks like somebody missed me!" (Y/N) squeezed out a laugh, Bella cutting off his air supply with the grip of her hug.

"It's been absolute agony without you here, I have so much to tell you- and warn you about."

"Oh damn, that doesn't sound good," (Y/N) replied as Bella helped pick up one of his bags.

"It's crazy out here." She nodded, and the two shared a look that only childhood friends could share.

"Any cute guys?" they had a hushed conversation to the car, Charlie and James too wrapped up talking about fishing to pay attention.

"I'm sure you'd find them cute," Bella scoffed, throwing a teasing smile over her shoulder as she loaded the trunk.

(Y/N) scoffed back, betrayed at her diss.

"I'm sure you went for the stalker-ish one anyways." With a sly smirk he got into the backseat, closing the door on her denials.

...

(Y/N) had settled in, conveniently living next door to the Swan's house, and drove with Bella in her old truck to school that Monday.

"So, Jessica is into Mike and Angela is with Eric. And Tyler flirts with everybody, but nobody goes out with him?" (Y/N) recapped from the tangent of drama Bella had been giving him.

"Yup, pretty much," Bella confirmed, turning into the school parking lot.

"And all of the Cullen's are super hot- but they're dating each other?" (Y/N) asked, more suspiciously this time.

"Well, they're all adopted, but yes. Except for Edward- but I already told you what happened."

"Yeah the weird smelling thing and the he disappeared just to come back with a different eye color."

"They could just be colored contacts," Bella corrected, still not sure herself.

"Strange... Welp, let's do this," (Y/N) sighed as he got out of the passengers seat of the car.

Bella shrunk into his side, all of the attention on her once again. Last time it was because she was the new girl, but now it's because she had her attractive best friend with her.

"Yo, Bella!" Mike called out, giving (Y/N) a confused glare.

Bella waved back and started walking over, (Y/N) following at her side. Leaning down to whisper in her ear (Y/N) held back a laugh, "You left out the part about Mike's crush on you."

Bella just rolled her eyes as they met up with the group.

"Everybody, (Y/N)- (Y/N), everybody," Bella lazily introduced.

"You just moved here, right?" Angela asked, holding Eric's hand as they lent up against Tyler's van behind them.

"Yes, I did. I grew up with Bella in Arizona and where she goes I go," (Y/N) laughed, nudging Bella in the side jokingly.

That's when he noticed her distracted state. Following her line of sight he realized she was staring at a car full of probably the most attractive people he'd ever seen.

"Who's that?" (Y/N) asked the group, acting clueless to get more information.

"Those are the Cullen's-" Jessica jumped right into the rant about their family.

When she was done she came closer to (Y/N), grabbing hold of his hand as she batted her eyelashes at him. "Let me show you around!"

Shrugging, (Y/N) waved to Bella, who rolled her eyes at Jessica's obvious flirting.

...

"Where'd you find that guy? He's so hot," Jessica gushed to Bella at lunch. (Y/N) hadn't sat down yet so she'd finally gotten a second to ask.

"We grew up together- he wasn't that hot when we first met, trust me," Bella almost snorted, playing with the food on her tray.

"You guys aren't like..." trailing off she wiggled her eyebrows to imply.

"No- god, no," Bella laughed. "He's like my brother."

"Oh, good. Less competition then," Jessica sighed.

"I don't think you'll be having much luck either, Jessica," Angela pointed out, nodding in (Y/N)'s direction.

He was flirting with some guy in the lunch line, the guys face bright red as he laughed at something (Y/N) had said.

Jessica looked heartbroken but Angela and Bella just laughed about it.

When (Y/N) finally joined them Bella raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" (Y/N) shrugged indignantly, opening his milk carton.

"Not even a full day in and you're already jumping on them," Bella teased, popping a grape into her mouth.

"Hey, you told me there wasn't any cute guys here, I just wanted to see what he was like," (Y/N) protested. "I didn't even like him that much. Kind of a dick."

Hearing a sudden and loud snort of laughter, (Y/N) and Bella turned around to see the Cullen's lunch table, Edward hiding his face as he looked towards the windows as his siblings glared at (Y/N). Or maybe they just all had RBF- save for the short girl with the pixie-like hair. She smiled at (Y/N) and waved, so he waved back.

"They're so weird," Jessica whispered as she dug into her lunch.

"How much have you actually talked to them?" (Y/N) questioned, taking a bite of his apple.

Jessica didn't answer for a minute, looking kind of embarrassed. Angela rolled her eyes, answering for her. "Once- and it was Edward rejecting her."

(Y/N) snorted and then apologized, "Sorry. It just seems like you're holding a grudge on people you barely know." He then changed the subject, not wanting to make an enemy out of Jessica.

She really seemed like a good friend, he didn't want to go pushing her buttons, that'd be mean.

...

"Mr. Molina, it's nice to meet you. I'm your new student, (Y/N)."

"Ahh, Mr. (L/N), is it?" (Y/N) nodded. "You can sit in front of Edward Cullen. You're lucky we had an empty seat," he joked, pointing to where he was talking about.

That was when (Y/N) got his good first look at Edward Cullen. His gaze was intense, just like Bella had said, but it was less scary than she described it.

Seemed like a guy worth getting to know.

Walking over to the desk with Bella, (Y/N) held out his hand to Edward. "You're Edward Cullen, right? Mr. Molina told me to sit in front of you, but I've heard stories and wanted to introduce myself." He smiled confidently.

Edward hesitantly took his hand and shook it, (Y/N) not reacting to the hard coldness of his skin.

Or at least he didn't show it- (Y/N) was immediately thrown off but didn't want to put off this attractive guy.

"Like you said, I'm Edward. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." (Y/N) winked and sat in his chair, not looking back at Edward or Bella once.

Bella just rolled her eyes with good nature. She'd seen him do this before, if she'd felt uncomfortable or threatened by someone, (Y/N) would draw the attention to himself. That's what worked about their friendship, he could take the attention that she didn't want.

At the end of class, (Y/N) packed up his things and then helped Bella do the same. He waved to Edward with a "Bye!" and they left.

Out in the parking lot his siblings all waited for him by the car.

"What's up?" Emmett asked, his arm around Rosalie.

Alice squealed, "Oh! It happened, didn't it? I thought it was Bella at first but then I saw him and just knew it would happen!" She jumped up and down and clapped her hands.

"What happened?" Rosalie questioned again, Jasper smirking as he sensed Edward's emotions.

"He fell in love," Alice stage-whispered. She was teasing him, of course, but Edward grumbled all the same.

They all piled into the car but before Edward got in he looked across the lot to see (Y/N) leaning on the truck hood talking to Bella.

He hadn't fallen in love. He couldn't- not with a human.

With Bella it was just an obscene thirst... but this was different.

---

Sorry to cut this short, I wouldn't be opposed to writing more for this! I just think this is a good ending and leaves an open spot for a potential part 2!

Hope you liked it anon!

-Author Max <3

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Pilot | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 4833

A/N: This is gonna be the slowest of burns. Every Saturday, these will publish at 3:00 PM CDT! I hope you all enjoy. Taglist/Requests are open!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

A trail of men disappearing spanning decades had brought you to Jericho, California. It seemed it would be a pretty standard hunt. From the moment you arrived, though, you knew this would be different.

You’d run into other hunters on jobs before, but none as strange and belligerent as John. John was all you knew him by. He was rough around the edges, and in all honesty, a complete dick. You had unintentionally gotten into an unspoken race with him to see who could finish the hunt first. Both of you refused to back off and go find another job; you just out of spite and him… you had no idea why a guy old enough to be your father was being so petty and territorial about this hunt. And perhaps that’s what fueled your fire to finish this hunt before John could. You thought maybe he knew something you didn’t about the hunt, and you were desperate to find out. But then… he disappeared. 

About a week into the “competition” you were having with John, he disappeared. You didn’t see him around Joseph Welch’s house, the Breckenridge Road home, or the Centennial Highway Bridge. It was completely puzzling. He didn’t seem like the type to up and leave in the middle of a job, but you brushed the unsettled feeling you had aside to keep pushing through your hunt. 

You had torched the body of Constance Welch the same night you guessed John left. You were just about to leave town, and then, Troy Squire ended up dead by what you assumed were Constance’s hands. 

You pulled up to the Centennial Highway Bridge in yet another stolen car. 

‘One of these days I won’t keep putting a neon sign on my back by stealing cars and actually find a way to buy one,’ you thought.

Almost as if on cue, another car pulled up next to yours. Except this car— a black 1967 Chevy Impala— was way nicer than the shitty sedan you’d copped for the time being. 

Two young men in the most layers you’ve ever seen anyone wear in the California sun stepped out on either side of the car. You pushed aside the thought of how attractive the shorter of the pair was and kept walking toward the taped-off part of the bridge where a few officers were milling around a crashed car. 

“Is that Troy’s? Oh, my God,” you shook your head, making sure the officers could hear you. 

“Ma’am, you are not supposed to be here,” an officer told you, trying to keep you from walking any closer to the car.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I just—” you sniffed, “—I’m his cousin. We were really close growing up, and I, uh, just had to see this for myself, um, do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

“We were wondering the same thing,” a deep voice called from behind you, making you wheel around.

‘Fuck. The Impala dudes.’

“And who are you?” the officer you’d been speaking to asked.

“Federal marshals,” one said, flashing a badge.

‘Goddammit, more hunters.’ You held back an eye roll, doing your best to stay in character.

“You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?”

The one you’d found attractive initially flashed a smile. “Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You just had another one just like this, correct?”

The officer you’d been speaking to didn’t seem too convinced by their story, but replied anyway. “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.”

“Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

“So, what's the theory?” the taller guy asked. 

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?” The officer seemed to remember you were standing there as he spoke. “Ma’am, I really do need you to go.”

“I was just about to—” you started, before the shorter guy cut you off. 

“What kinda crack police work are you doing; talking about sensitive information in front of townies?” He was cut off with a grunt; apparently the other guy had stepped on his foot. 

“Thank you for your time,” you told the officer, suddenly feeling very awkward. You turned on your heel, hurrying away. 

***

After the bizarre incident with the other two hunters on the bridge, you went down to a local diner to get something to eat. You were puzzled as to why Constance was still around after you torched her bones. You flipped through a few pages of your journal when you saw the two hunters from the bridge walking in with two goth chicks. 

‘What the fuck. First John, and now this.’

The shorter one of the pair caught the glare you threw their way over your shoulder. He had a smug look on his face you couldn’t quite read as he sat down in a booth with the girls and his partner. You did your best to listen in on their conversation as you sipped your drink. 

“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did,” you heard one of the girls lament. 

You recognized the voice of the taller one. “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?”

“No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace.”

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—” the girl laughed, “—with all that devil stuff.”

“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”

“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries,” the other guy’s voice broke in. 

You held back a small laugh. You hated to admit it, but he was pretty funny. 

“Here's the deal, ladies,” the pretty one said, “The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything… What is it?”

Your eyebrows drew together, your back still turned to the group.

“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk,” a new voice chimed in. 

“What do they talk about?” the two boys said in unison.

It got a little harder to hear as one of the girls quieted her voice. “It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago. Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

‘Yeah, yeah, I already know that. They are way far behind me in the process.’

“Well, thank you for your time, ladies,” the voice of the taller one spoke amidst some rustling. You figured they were getting up to leave. 

You dropped a twenty on the table, let the door shut behind the group, and stood to follow the boys out. You hung back a little while you watched them head to their car. 

“I know you’re back there, sweetheart,” the pretty one called without turning around.

“I know you do. I was just testing you,” you said, walking closer. “Look, I’ve already got this one covered. You guys should find something else.”

“Not a chance,” the pretty boy replied. 

“Look, man—” you started. 

“We’re just looking for our dad,” the taller one cut you off. “We think he’s working this same job.”

“Wait, is your dad’s name John?” you asked, surprised. 

Both of them started toward you, their shock and confusion evident. “How do you—”

“Whoa, easy,” you giggled. “He was here a few days ago and then he just, pfft,” you imitated a puff of smoke, “disappeared.”

The pretty boy ran his hand through his hair, looking frustrated, while the taller guy continued talking to you. “Was he working with you?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, “we were kind of in an unspoken competition to see who could smoke this bitch first when he disappeared. And then, Troy ended up dead a day later. I thought maybe he was connected to Troy’s death some kind of way.”

“I don’t think so,” the taller one answered. “I’m Sam, by the way. This is my brother, Dean.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N),” you shook Sam’s hand. When you reached for Dean’s, though, he rolled his eyes at you without taking it. 

“Oh-kay,” you muttered. 

“Sorry about him,” Sam told you. “He’s—”

“A bit touchy?” you smirked.

“Yeah,” Sam laughed. 

“I can hear you two, y’know,” Dean snarked. 

“I know,” you quipped. “So, what’s your theory on your dad?”

“We have no idea,” Sam said. “We were hoping you might know.”

“I have nothing for you,” you shook your head. 

“Well, do you know anything about the case?” 

“A lot, actually. Chick’s name is Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white. She lives at the end of Breckenridge Road. I talked to her husband, and he definitely cheated on her. He buried her in a plot behind her house. I went there and torched her. I was just about to leave town when your dad disappeared, Troy wound up dead, and you two showed up.”

“Then, there’s gotta be something else keeping her here,” Sam told you.

“Okay, then what?”

***

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” Dean said. The three of you looked over the railing of the Centennial Highway Bridge. Sam had been nice enough to force his brother to let you tag along. 

“Okay, so now what?” Sam asked.

“Now we keep digging until we find Dad. Might take a while,” Dean responded.

“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”

“What’s Monday?” you asked. 

“I’ve got an interview with law school.”

“Oh, shit, no way!” you smiled. 

Sam smiled back at you before Dean cut in. “Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?”

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam cut back.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?”

“No, and she's not ever going to know.”

“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean kept walking down the bridge. 

“And who's that?”

“You're one of us,” Dean said. 

Sam hurried around him. “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

You felt really awkward doing what felt like intruding on a private moment. Your eyes began to scan the railing of the bridge opposite you.

“You have a responsibility to—”

Sam cut his brother off. “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

You were doing your best not to listen in on their conversation when Dean grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him against the bridge railing.

“Uh, guys—” you started, your eye caught by what looked like Constance standing on the railing of the bridge.

“Don't talk about her like that,” Dean grumbled at his brother; ignoring you.

“Guys!” 

“What?!” Dean turned to face you, stopping when he caught sight of Constance. Constance then stepped off the railing. 

The three of you broke off in a sprint toward the spot she’d leapt off. You searched the water below. “Where'd she go?”

“No idea,” Dean answered. 

Your visual search was interrupted by a bright light coming on in the corner of your eye. Dean’s Impala’s headlights. 

“What the fuck—” Dean trailed off.

“Who's driving your car?” you asked him. 

He responded by pulling the keys out of his pocket and jingling them. 

“Oh.”

The car jerked to life, heading straight for you and the boys. You broke into a sprint yet again, doing your best to outrun the car; a task that proved impossible. 

“Jump!” you screamed, and the three of you threw yourselves over the side of the bridge. You thankfully caught a bit of the bridge that jutted out over the water and pulled yourself back up, groaning.

‘My arm’s gonna be sore as a bitch in the morning.’

“Dean?” Sam yelled down to the water below. “Dean!”

“What?” came his aggravated response. 

You looked down to see a mud-covered Dean crawling out of the water. You couldn’t hold back a laugh upon seeing him.

“Not funny, sweetheart,” he called up to you.

“My name’s (Y/N),” you answered. “Don’t call me sweetheart. It weirds me out.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

“Guys, you can argue later. You okay?” Sam called down to Dean.

“I’m super,” his brother responded.

You and Sam climbed back over the railing of the bridge while Dean made his way up to you. The car had stopped only a few inches from where the three of you dove over. Dean busied himself inspecting the engine while you sat with your back leaned against the passenger’s side door. 

“Your car okay?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now.” Dean shut the hood. “That Constance chick, what a bitch!”

You chuckled to yourself at his antics. “Alright, well, I don’t think the bridge is what’s tying her here. What now?”

Dean raised his hands in frustration, flicking mud off his hands in the process. 

Sam caught a whiff of his brother. “You smell like a toilet.”

***

Your next stop was a motel. When you went to check in, the clerk informed Dean that another man under the last name on Dean’s card had bought out a room for the whole month. And so, you and the boys went poking around John’s room. 

Every surface was covered in newspaper clippings, magazine articles, photos, hastily scribbled notes, and bits of red tape tying some of them together. 

“I knew John was weird, but this is a whole new level,” you commented, slightly in awe of the frantic scribblings covering the wall. 

‘'Don’t talk about him like that,” Dean grumbled. “I'm gonna get cleaned up.” He started toward the shower. 

“Hey, Dean?” Sam stopped him.

His brother turned around. 

“What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry—”

Dean held up a hand, cutting him off. “No chick-flick moments.”

Sam laughed. “Alright, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“You guys are strange.”

Dean rolled his eyes at you before disappearing into the bathroom. 

You started looking around John’s room. A closer look at the walls of information revealed pages on demons, witches, possession, and other bits of newspaper referring to mysterious deaths unlike anything you’d heard before. One was an obituary clipping from 1983; taking you aback. The picture was of a gorgeous blonde woman named Mary Winchester who died in a house fire. Her picture was surrounded by other house fire deaths and linked by red thread to multiple of the demon and witch articles. You walked over to his dresser where there was a picture of a much younger John holding two boys who you assumed were Sam and Dean. 

“You guys were cute kids,” you told Sam, showing him the picture.

He smiled sadly at it. 

After a brief melancholy pause, you spoke up. “So, what’s your deal? College? Law school? Part-time hunter? That doesn’t add up.”

“My, uh, my dad raised us as hunters after my mom passed,” he explained. 

“I’m sorry,” you told him, sitting on the bed next to him. “Was her death the reason your dad became a hunter?”

“Yeah. I’m not exactly sure what happened; I wasn’t even a year old yet. Dean remembers way more than I do, but he said our dad was never the same. Anyway, two years ago, dad and I got into a fight. I wanted to go to school, and he wanted me to stay and hunt. So I left.”

“Dean said you got a girl now? Was that the voicemail you were listening to a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah, actually. Jess. She’s— she’s amazing. I’m excited to get back to her.” You could see how much he loved her just in how his face lit up talking about her.

“I’m sure you are,” you smiled. 

“So, what about you? What’s your story?” he nudged your shoulder with his. 

“Meh, not much to tell.”

“Aw, come on—” Sam rebutted. 

“I’m serious!” you laughed. “I’ve just always hunted. Never knew anything different.”

“I know that’s difficult.” His tone became serious again. 

“Nah, it’s not so bad. I enjoy it. Brings me a little peace, y’know?” you shrugged.

“You sound like Dean.”

“Speaking of which, he’s taking forever and a day in the shower,” you joked. You bounced over to the bathroom door, leaning your ear on it about to knock. “Hey, princess—” 

You were cut off by the door opening and stumbled into Dean’s chest. 

He caught you by the shoulders. “You were saying?” 

You shoved off him, annoyed by his smug smile and quirked eyebrow. “Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Dean began, “I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?”

“No,” Sam said.

“A burger would be great,” you told him. 

“Wasn’t asking you,” Dean said. 

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Aframian’s buying, anyway, so what difference is it to you?”

“Nothing, it’s just fun to rile you up.” He winked and smiled at you, amused at your aggravated expression before closing the door behind him. 

You shook your head. “Dick.”

Sam laughed. “You get used to him.” He went back to his phone, relistening to his girlfriend’s voicemail. He furrowed his brows before pressing it to his ear. “What?” He stands up, catching your attention. “What about you?” He huffed when he hung up the phone, rushing over to the closed curtains to peek out. 

“What, what is it?” You crossed your arms.

“Police got Dean. We need to leave.”

“Shit.”

Sam quickly pulled away from the window which you understood meant you had company. You hid under the bed, anxiously waiting to see the officer’s boots make their way into the bathroom. You began scooching yourself out from under the bed frame, and when he’d slammed the door to the bathroom open, you and Sam snuck out of the room. Thankfully, Sam had Dean’s keys, and the two of you sped away from the motel in Dean’s Impala.

“Well, shit,” you breathed, your heart still beating quickly.

Sam huffed out a laugh, still recovering from the adrenaline.

***

You and Sam were headed to Breckenridge Road to hopefully figure out how to stop Constance. Since you had torched the body, then maybe something in her house was keeping her alive. 

After Dean’s arrest, the two of you were intent on getting Dean and getting the hell out of Jericho before anyone else had a run-in with the cops. 

Sam’s phone rang, and he answered quickly. “Hello?” He tossed a look your way. “Actually, it was (Y/N)’s idea.” You had no doubt he was referring to the fake shooting you’d called in to the police department so Dean had an opportunity to escape. You motioned for him to give you the phone.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” you told him once you had the phone to your ear. 

“Yeah, whatever, sweetheart,” Dean’s gruff voice responded.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“And I’ve made it pretty clear I’m not going to listen. Hey, give the phone back to Sam. I gotta talk to him.”

“And why can’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me? I’m offended, babe,” you quipped. 

“Don’t objectify me.”

“Hey, you started it with the whole ‘sweetheart’ thing.”

“C’mon, (Y/N), give him the—”

“Shit!” you screamed, dropping the phone as the car came to a screeching halt. “What the hell, Sam?”

“Constance,” he replied coolly. He kept a level head despite the tense situation. 

You looked up at the rearview mirror to see her in the backseat. “Fuck.” 

Constance’s hauntingly beautiful voice melodically flowed from the backseat. “Take me home.”

“No,” Sam answered. 

You saw her glare as the doors started to lock themselves. You whipped around to start trying to reopen them. The car began jerking forward. 

“What the hell, Sam? Stop!” you told him. 

“It’s not me.”

You looked over to see him holding his hands up. The steering wheel was moving itself. You turned back to the door, struggling to get the lock open. Eventually, you wound up at Constance’s abandoned Breckenridge Road house. The car’s rumble quieted and the headlights turned off. 

“Don't do this,” Sam pleaded, still holding his hands up. 

The ghost flickered, sounding sad. “I can never go home.”

‘That’s it.’

“You're scared to go home,” you realized. When you turned around to look at her, she had disappeared. Before you could even turn back around, you felt the bench seat reclining forcefully. 

“Sam!” 

Constance sat atop him, begging him to hold her. 

“You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!”

“You will be,” she hummed. “Just hold me.”

You fumbled for your gun hidden under your top. Before you could fully aim at her, you felt your back make brief contact with the Impala’s door before flying through the air. You barely registered Sam yelling your name as you groaned in pain on the dead grass beneath you. 

You rolled around, trying to regain your wits and recover when you heard the sound of multiple gunshots. 

“Sam!”

“It’s me, (Y/N), stay down!” Dean yelled. 

Suddenly, Dean’s car burst through the front of the abandoned house. You pushed yourself up off the ground; your joints and back aching in protest. 

“Sam! Sam! You okay?” Dean called after the car. 

‘I’m fine, Dean, thanks for asking,’ you thought. 

The two of you climbed over the rubble to the passenger’s side window. 

“I think,” Sam responded weakly. 

“Can you move?” you asked.

“Yeah. Help me?” He reached out to his brother. 

Dean pulled Sam through the window of the car. “There you go.”

You turned to see Constance looking sadly at a picture she was holding before slamming it to the floor. She glared at the three of you harshly, forcing a bureau across the floor to pin you to Dean’s car. 

You groaned in pain once again as Dean struggled to push the furniture off. You stopped your struggle at the lights flickering and the sound of water rushing down the stairs. 

“You've come home to us, Mommy,” the echoey voices of Constance’s children sang. They appeared behind her, hugging her as she screamed. In a surge of energy, Constance and her children began melting to the floor. Constance’s resounding scream seemed to get louder and louder with each passing moment, the flickering of the lights becoming more and more intense. You squeezed your eyes shut until the screaming subsided, suddenly feeling the pressure on your stomach relieved. All that was left of Constance and her children was a puddle of murky water on the floor. 

“So this is where she drowned her kids,” Dean said while you rubbed your stomach, recovering from the pressure of the bureau. 

Sam nodded. “That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.”

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Dean slapped his brother on the chest where he’d been injured by Constance.

Sam laughed despite the pain. “Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”

“Hey. Saved your ass,” Dean commented, starting to look over his beloved Impala. “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you.” 

You giggled at Sam and Dean’s banter. Sam and Dean started to get back into the car, and you idled awkwardly. 

“Whatcha doin’? Let’s go.” Sam looked at you expectantly. 

“Go where?” you asked, feeling stupid. 

“I think we make a pretty solid team. You should tag along.”

“What?” Dean asked while you started shaking your head. 

“No, no, I shouldn’t—” 

“You should. I’m going back to school, and I know Dean’s gonna be lost without me trying to find my dad.”

A slow smile crossed your face. “Thank you. That’d be nice, actually.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything to the contrary. And with that, the three of you set off to drop Sam back off at college. 

***

The thing Dean so desperately wanted to tell Sam that he couldn’t tell you earlier was that his dad had left coordinates to a place called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado in the journal he’d left behind in Jericho. John was getting weirder and weirder by the minute. 

“AC/DC. I like it,” you said from the backseat. 

“Thanks.” Dean cracked what seemed like a genuine, lopsided smile at you for the first time in the rearview mirror. “Sam thinks it’s mullet rock.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better than Kiss and Poison.”

��True that.” Despite the fact that he was agreeing with you about something as mundane as music, his tone was still guarded.

“How far is Blackwater Ridge?” you asked Sam, who was looking over a map. 

“About 600 miles,” he answered.

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning,” Dean cut in. 

Sam suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Dean, I, um…”

The older brother deflated. “You're not going.”

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,” Sam tried to reason.

Dean nodded, disappointed, and returned his attention to the road. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.”

The mood in the car had turned tense, awkward, and sour, and remained that way for the rest of the drive back to Sam’s college.

“Dude, you go to Stanford?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he nodded, sheepishly.

“Alright, smartass, look at you.” You nudged his shoulder with your balled fist. 

Dean rolled to a stop in front of Sam’s apartment complex. 

You and Sam got out of the car. You gave him a quick hug goodbye before climbing down into the front seat. 

Sam leaned into your rolled-down window. “Call me if you find him?”

Dean nodded. 

“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

Despite Sam’s chipper tone, Dean’s disappointment was clear. “Yeah, all right.”

Sam patted the car door twice before turning away. 

“Sam?” Dean called before his brother could get too far. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.” 

You felt a pang in your heart at Dean’s indirect attempt to try to convince Sam to stay. 

Sam nodded with a half-hearted smile. “Yeah.” 

Dean then began to drive off. 

The two of you didn’t get any more than five minutes down the road before you felt something was off. You could no longer hear the steady ticking of Dean’s watch breaking through the almost awkward silence. Sure enough, when you looked over at the wrist he had perched atop the steering wheel, the watch was stopped. 

“Dean,” you said. You tapped his watch’s face with your fingernail. 

He matched your worried glance, immediately turning the car around.

The car had barely stopped before you and Dean were leaping into action. You let Dean take the lead in rushing up to Sam’s apartment. 

Dean kicked the door to the apartment open, calling out to his brother in the process. You gasped when you caught sight of flames licking at the ceiling coming out from what you assumed was Sam’s bedroom. 

You heard Sam’s voice weakly calling his girlfriend’s name as you rushed to get him out of the smoldering room. You just barely caught sight of a body bleeding from the stomach burning on the ceiling before you and Dean dragged a screaming Sam out of his bedroom and away from the fire. You fought him every step of the way out of his apartment complex. 

It didn’t take long for the fire department to show up and the police to start asking questions. A small crowd had gathered to gawk at Sam’s smoldering apartment. Your face was steely as you watched the firefighters carry Jess out in a body bag. You and Dean took the brunt of the questions the police had, allowing Sam as much space as he needed. 

You and Dean soon headed over to the Impala where Sam was packing up the weapons cavity of the trunk. Both of you seemed too scared to ask Sam what was running through his head, and neither of you had any idea what to say. 

Sam threw a shotgun into the weapons box before muttering, “We got work to do,” and slamming the trunk shut.

You threw a look at Dean, who shook his head in response. Biting the inside of your cheek, you followed the boys into the car. As the three of you left Sam’s apartment in the rearview mirror, you realized the course of your formerly relatively boring life was changing very quickly. 

‘Damn you, John. Wherever you are.’

[shannonsketches]

I noticed that the element of the triforce that the individual characters are supposed to represent, is also their weakness. Zelda's wisdom is being stifled by doubt and lack of experience; she's eager to learn, but her zeal is not enough and relies on faith and Link to save the day. I'm not implying that wisdom and faith cannot go hand in hand, but she needs to be able to represent her element more. Maybe her wisdom is knowing when to wait and allow someone else to bear the task? But it takes away too much initiative from her. Ganon's element is power but he's the one who ends up losing almost every time. And Ganondorf on his own, isn't powerless! He's a king, he knows magic, he can wield almost any weapon, he's patient, conniving and intelligent and knows how to make best with what he has. He isn't weak! And yet, the whole split happened, because he was feeling powerless.

They locked themselves in a self-sabotaging cycle that's powered by doubt.

Yeah! So one of the reasons I really love the Triforce lore is that it’s a three-way mirror that reflects both what the user has and also what they need (very wizard of oz).

Ganondorf is a very powerful man, physically, and magically.

Politically, though, he’s next to helpless, which is an awful thing for a king to be. He’s a king of thieves in OoT, because the Gerudo are not a wealthy or thriving nation there. In-Game they don’t have a local living area like the other regions (or even a store — just one floating bombchu salesman in the middle of the desert) — they’ve got a post-war fortress full of guards, and a temple that is being used as a secret base Hylians can’t get to.

Consider also, Ganondorf is the most highly decorated of the Gerudo, and he’s not decked out in gold. He’s wearing mostly iron and topaz. Nabooru and Twinrova are the only ones who have gold fixtures/jewelry along with the higher ranked guards for their protective elements (which is why I think it could arguably be pale bronze or yellow brass, which is a common and highly durable gold alternative).

The Gerudo are implicitly just surviving in OoT, and Hyrule speaks of them like they’re monsters (except for the one guy in town who has a fetish). More than that, WW establishes that his real grief comes from the weather, which any mortal is powerless to control.

So Ganondorf is powerful as a person, but powerless as a king, which is literally the only thing he was born to be.

Be that as it may, though, he is a well-loved king, and a survivor, and a thief, so he also has to embody both wisdom and courage too!

Zelda is the most obvious mirror to Ganondorf. She is a very powerful woman politically and magically, but physically-- compared to Ganondorf -- she's terribly meek. That's the obvious read, that they're 1:1 Parallels, but her real weakness lies in her courage.

Zelda (in OoT) leans on her massive political power -- In the child timeline, she literally sees a foreign dignitary executed before he does anything wrong, based on a recurring dream she has.

Do you know how insane that is? Do you realize how powerful she is?

Ganondorf is not just some guy -- he's a foreign KING. He's a KING that a TEN YEAR OLD had EXECUTED based on VIBES.

And we think she embodies wisdom because her vibes were (as we, the audience know) correct. But it's actually because as an adult, she understands that none of it needed to happen that way. That the only reason Ganondorf was able to pull off his stunt and get the Triforce at all was because she tried to control the situation, sending Link to gather everything Ganondorf couldn't get himself and put it all precisely where Ganondorf needed it to be.

Despite being a child at the time, by the end of the story, by the time she's Sheik, Zelda is taking full responsibility for what happened, and is doing everything in her now extremely limited power to fix it. She's so sorry to need Link, and at the end of it all is desperate to give him another chance to be a kid, and to be innocent, and to be happy, because she realized so quickly that she never should've involved him, visions be damned. She knows none of it was his fault or his business, and she's mortified that she dragged him into it in her own attempt to control the weather.

These other two items shift in other games -- WW and Twilight Princess show us a Zelda with tremendous courage and very little power, physical or political. And then the Wild's era, despite removing the Triforce narrative, shows us a Zelda with immense power and terrible guilt and insecurity -- her power locked behind her fear, and she is only able to access both when she embraces courage.

Which brings us to Link.

Link, on the surface, is a third wheel in a chess game between ancients. But the reality is that he's the base of the prism. He's the foundation that reflects both of the others.

There are MANY different personalities for Link, and personally my favorite gag is that Link is simply too stupid to be scared, but that's just a gag -- because something I've come to really enjoy and respect about him is that he consistently displays fear. Link embodies courage because he is full of fear and chooses to fight anyway. Link leads a good life. He is comfortable, he has family, he has friends, he knows peace. What makes Link courageous is that he is willing to give up his access to all of that if it means that everyone else keeps theirs.

Link will lock himself in a room with the apocalypse if it means he's the only one who gets hurt, and it's not because he believes this is his sacred duty, or his life's purpose -- he'd much rather be at home chasing chickens around or riding his pony through some pretty scenic route -- it's because he is so full of love for other people that he's willing to give up anything to keep them safe.

Link's not very powerful, but he is also unburdened by any desire to be powerful. Link's not very wise, but he is unburdened by any desire to be wise. Link is content in who he is, Link is happy to keep things simple. But Link is so brave that he becomes a leader, which actually makes him the most dangerous of the three.

Courage, unburdened, is fucking terrifying. To both Wisdom and Power. Because, unlike Wisdom and Power, Courage is contagious.

Link can empower and inspire and reveal truths others might not have been able to find on their own. Link doesn't need charisma or brutality. Link can build armies just by being observed.

"But Sketches, you haven't really said anything about how Link reflects the other two." It's subtle! But he does. I see it like this:

• Ganondorf reflects Link's relentless determination, refusing to stand down in the face of impossible odds. In this way, they're connected by their power and courage. • Zelda reflects Ganondorf's burden of being born in a crown, forcing them to learn leadership, and how to use their recklessness strategically, as children. In this way, they're connected by their power and wisdom. • Link reflects Zelda's sense of love for the faceless innocent, and her dedication to protecting all who can't protect themselves. In this way, they're connected by their courage and wisdom.

Because the inherent configuration of the triforce requires those connections to be balanced -- Separately they are overwhelmed by their traits. Ganondorf is willing to sacrifice everything he is in order to reach his goals, Zelda is so pre-occupied with preventing prophecy she ends up instigating it, and Link is so ready to step in and help that he never considers the consequences.

Every single one of them, left to their own devices, would rather see themselves destroyed than fail those who may or may not be relying on their success. They're all very similar, highly reflective characters who all represent compelling foils for each other and yes, display how their unfettered strengths are also the thing that damage them most.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for creating and running a gimmick blog?

A few months back, I was bored and decided to hop on the trend of gimmick blogs. Since I don't have any crazy skills like identifying cars or programming bots, I settled on something I thought was extremely simple: correcting typos. So I'll sometimes reblog posts that have typos in them and comment with corrections. I would only do this on posts that were already lighthearted or joking in tone; I would never derail a serious post with it. And I really haven't used it very often - maybe a couple times a week at most, just when I happen to notice a good candidate.

Well, recently I was inundated out of nowhere by a bunch of anons telling me this was a horribly offensive idea. According to them, I was insulting dyslexic people, non-native English speakers, people without access to education, and a whole bunch of other groups with these unwarranted corrections.

I had honestly never considered that angle, and I've paused using that blog so I can try and reflect on it. But when I replied to a couple of the asks asking for a better explanation of exactly how this was harmful - because I genuinely wanted to be informed - the vast majority of the replies, with few exceptions, were obscenely rude to me. I've been called classist, ableist, racist, and a lot of much worse words I don't care to repeat here. I blocked exactly two people because they were being extremely hateful in my notes, while still trying to engage with the more polite ones, but of course I still got accused of blocking and ignoring everyone I disagreed with.

The truth is, I'm still not sure whether or not I disagree with any of them on the actual subject at hand; I just can't deal with people being bitter and rude and assuming the worst of me. I tried to make it clear that I was more than willing to listen and have a conversation in good faith, but that has proved impossible.

So now I'm really hurt and really, really confused. I'm not going to just blindly trust a small group of hypocrites on the internet who claim they're worried about people's feelings while at the same time trying to completely villainize me as if I don't have feelings too. But I also understand that they might have a point. Sadly, politeness is not always correlated with correctness.

I absolutely do not want to continue running this gimmick blog if it's truly harmful and offensive to people. I've just never encountered this take before, and it was delivered with such vitriol that I had to take a break from tumblr entirely just to recover my sanity. So I'm hoping a much broader and less biased sample size will help to clear this up. I know an AITA poll isn't perfect, but it should do.

If I get a YTA verdict, I will delete the typo-correcting blog and stop immediately, no questions asked. If not, I'll know I just angered an extremely vocal minority that has no idea how to deal with conflict.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[modernsuperhero]

Tbh as much as i love seablings i like the idea that lizzie's death has nothing to do with jimmy's curse more. Lizzie's death was her own. If we want to talk about jimmy's curse, instead of lizzie's tragedy, then let's talk about how it was broken on accident.

Consider this: every game has been the same except this one. Certain "curses" are attached to certain people - Jimmy the canary, Skizz the boogey, etc. But not this time - or, well.

Last game was the first time, according to martyn's canon, that two players were so damaged from the watchers' overfeeding on their significant traumas (pearl witnessing scott's suicide, cleo's own traumatic death) that the listeners were able to intervene and temporarily swap their souls out with, ofc, lizzie and gem, to give them reprieve to recover.

I like the perspective that instead of there being one death loop that restarts over and over, there are multiple happening all the time. They overlap. The watchers are of course constantly feeding - and perhaps this is why the members of each loop vary slightly over time. Adding ingredients, removing others, as time wears on. Lizzie was not actively in a loop during limited life - but that does not mean she hasn't been in death games in the meantime. Perhaps even gem has, too, though i believe possessing cleo was her first time.

Also last season, grian was yanked out of his body by the watchers, attempting to remove him from stunting the growth of their anguish farm (making it a game instead of a saw trap, as @stalarys so aptly put it). But he managed to keep his claws in the game, even going so far as to break beyond the literal borders of the game - "we're already dead," as he said, leading the nosy neighbors beyond the veil - because grian is nothing in any universe if not stubborn in the face of authority.

We know from last season that the games are already unstable. The listeners' influence is growing, and grian is proving to be more and more of a problem. (He definitely doesn't know about the listeners' existence, but he's likely unaware of how he may be helping them, and they him.)

Jimmy is not dead first. But he dies so soon after - the second body to fall.

The game, the watchers, the farm - it course corrects when things go wrong.

Grian, who has broken the rules this season not once but thrice - allowing an exception for scar to reroll, even allowing breaking of his own rule on helmets (for both scar and mumbo), and falsely rolling a success last session, is given a chaotic impossible task. (Grian tends to doom his allies - curse or simply bad choices, he is teamed with etho, and their rerolls are entwined. They seem personal, don't they? Etho ran from grian's wither once before. Grian died leading out a warden.) He succeeds, on one heart despite everything, only to be slain on top of the button itself.

He's stuck in spectator. Isn't that perfect? The game, HIS game, GLITCHED. His grip on his in-game body, the part of him he wedged into the mechanics of this death loop, slipped. He regained it, sure, but now he is forced to course correct: he comes back green when he should be yellow.

And grian has just seen the price of breaking too many rules. Jimmy's funeral was too soon. He switches back to yellow, rerolls for his deserved prizes at the cost of his own chances of victory.

(Because victory, while still a goal, is not the point. The point is to break the game.)

(Last season, tango watched one of his closest and most common allies sacrifice himself for his team. This season, he allies with him again. It's ironic that they're giving away their hearts to others - similar to giving away their time. Maybe skizz's death impacted tango too harshly. Maybe his pain fed a bit too much.)

(This is the first season since skizz, an angel, died so full of divine bloodlust that it manifested as the boogey curse, that he has been here and his curse has not. Two curses now, tentatively broken.)

(Martyn feeds the watchers more when he is an unguided hand, wandering and hurting, so ren has not been in this particular loop for a while now. He is available to replace tango, just for a bit, just like how gem and lizzie replaced cleo and pearl.)

Last season, the games finally started to break.

This season, we get to see the cracks.

(The watchers are more obvious this season. The keeper's symbol, grian's lack of achievement entering the end... They're grappling for control as it is slowly but surely dragged away from them.)