#penultimate entry

[sol-draws-sometimes]

Let's go, your girl wrote an entry for THE new season(it's kinda incomplete cause only one ep is out)

Also, it seeeems like the wiki is back to normal???? Whatever admins that were trying to turn the fanwiki into amino(which my sister said and OH WOW SHE'S SO RIGHT), seem to have left or taken a chill pill! They're currently still working to bring everything back to normal tho.

I literally don't have the energy to try and help add everything from the previous seasons, BUT, since only one ep is out, I may try to help out with any entries about season 3. Tho, it seems that some Freddy fan already did a page for Tony Collette so LETS GOOO. I have to do other stuff so if anyone's interested yall can do the other character(or I'll do them when I have time). But yah, I realized there wasn't a page for the new season, so at least other people can start editing it and what not. Also did a little bit, like add guests under S1 and other small edits.

[pethfics]

ZUTARA WEEK 2023, Day Six: Forge

Title: Defying a Tainted Legacy

Summary: Prophecies are being spread about a curse that would befall anyone who allied themselves with the Fire Nation. Zuko begins to doubt but Katara reminds him that their bond is stronger than any of these foolish claims.

Read on FF.NET

@zutaraweek

[coredrill]

i can’t fucking believe tetsujin ended Like That

[skyisclear]

⚠️CW: KNIVES AND SUGGESTION OF SELF HARM⚠️

Just a Little Push - Identity Series

- Sky West -

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Dead Man's Blood | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, daddy issues, mentions of parental death

Word Count: 5022

A/N: Cannot believe we're at the penultimate episode of my version of the first season Supernatural!! Crazy!! Thank you guys so much for the love and support; I truly appreciate it.

When season 2 starts, the taglist will be closed! If you'd like to join and haven't already, please let me know!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and the Winchester boys sat at a table in a diner searching for possible cases to take on. You sat at your laptop on the side of the table with Sam and Dean to your right and left. 

Dean looked through a newspaper and folded it up in frustration. “Well, not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What’ve you got, Sammy?”

“I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota... here. A woman in Iowa fell ten thousand feet from an airplane and survived,” Sam responded.

“Sounds more like ‘that's Incredible’ than, uh, 'Twilight Zone'.”

“Yeah, I agree,” you said.

“Hey you know we could just keep heading east. New York. Upstate. We could drop by and see Sarah again. Huh? Cool chick, man, smokin'.” Dean whistled lowly. “You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?”

“Yeah, I don’t know, maybe someday. But in the meantime we got a lot of work to do Dean, and you know that,” Sam stated.

“Yeah, alright. How ‘bout you, (Y/N)?”

“Uh, man in Colorado, local man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home,” you said, continuing to scan the web page before you.

“Elkins? I know that name,” Dean said.

You shrugged as Sam said, “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Dean muttered the man’s name over and over.

“Sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack, now, they've found some signs of robbery,” you continued.

Dean took out his father’s journal and began to flick through it. “There, check it out.” He turned the book around to you and Sam and pointed at a contact reading “D. Elkins” with the man’s phone number next to it.

“You think it's the same Elkins?” Sam questioned.

“It's a Colorado area code.”

“Alright, Colorado it is. Let’s go, kids,” you said. 

***

You and the boys made your way to the remote cabin of Daniel Elkins and picked the lock to his home. You cringed at the sight of your messy surroundings once inside. Books were everywhere, mad scribblings on stray pages covered the floor, and the furniture seemed to not have been dusted in years.

“Looks like the maid didn't come today,” Dean remarked.

You crouched down at the entrance of the home and fingered something on the floor. “Hey, got some salt over here.”

“You mean protection against demon salt, or 'oops I spilled the popcorn' salt?” Dean asked.

You gave him a dirty look. “Clearly a ring. Elkins was a player?”

“Definitely,” Dean responded. 

You rose to go stand beside the brothers and look over the journal they were flicking through.

“That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's,” said Sam as he flipped through the pages.

“Yep, except this dates back to the '60s,” Dean added.

You led the brothers into another room and took in the shattered skylights. You moved your flashlight around the room and took in the fact that somehow, this room was messier than the other ones.

“Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one,” Sam said, referencing the damage to the skylights. It seemed there were two separate entry points through them.

“Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too,” the older brother added. He crouched down to the floor.

“You got something?” you asked, crouching beside him.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Some scratches on the floor.”

“Death throes maybe?” Sam suggested.

Dean grabbed a page from a notebook on top of the desk beside you and placed it over the spot on the ground. He rubbed a pencil over the top to create an outline. “Or maybe a message.” He peeled up the paper that now had a lot of blood on the back and showed you and Sam the rubbings of the characters. “Look familiar?”

“Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop,” you said.

Dean looked to his brother. “Just the way Dad does it.”

***

You and the boys found a letter in the mailbox labeled with the numbers and letters from the floor’s message. You leaned over the back seat of the car and read off the letters on the envelope.

“ ‘J.W.’ Gotta be John Winchester, right?” you said.

“I don't know. Should we open it?” Dean turned his head to you.

A knock on Dean’s window came before any of you could say another word. You reared back and grabbed your gun from your belt, pointing it at the sound.

“Dad?” Dean breathed out.

You breathed out sharply as John opened the door and slid into the seat next to you. “I almost shot you, dude.”

He chuckled at you.

“Dad, what are you doing here? Are you alright?” Sam asked, turning to face him.

John’s gravelly voice seemed even more tired and worn than the last time you’d seen him. “Yeah, I'm okay. I read the news about Daniel; I got here as fast as I could. I saw you three at his place.”

“Why didn't you come in, Dad?”

“You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed. By anyone or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks, by the way.”

Dean looked a little proud. “Yeah, well, we learned from the best.”

“Wait, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?” Sam questioned.

John nodded. “He was— He was a good man. Taught me a hell of a lot about hunting.”

“Well, you never mentioned him to us.”

“We had a— we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years.” He gestured to the envelope. “I should look at that.” He opened it. “ 'If you're reading this, I'm already dead'... that son of a bitch.”

“What is it?” his eldest son asked.

“He had it the whole time.”

Sam looked at him confused. “Dad, what?”

“When you searched the place, did you— did you see a gun? An antique, a Colt revolver, did you see it?”

You shook your head. “I saw an old case, but it was empty.”

John sighed. “They have it.”

“You mean, whatever killed Elkins?” Dean asked.

John started to get out of the car. “We gotta pick up the trail.”

“Wait, you want us to come with you?” Sam scoffed.

“If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun,” John rushed out.

“The gun? Why?”

“Because it's important, that's why.”

‘He’s even more of a hardass than Dean.’

“Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet,” the younger son protested.

“They were what Daniel Elkins killed best: Vampires.”

Your heart nearly dropped at the mention of those creatures.

“I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and others had wiped them out. I was wrong,” John said. 

“Damn right,” you jumped in, not realizing the sudden venom lacing your words.

The three men stared back at you, and you shrank awkwardly.

John continued to explain. “Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late.”

Anxiety clawed at your throat. You hadn’t faced any vampires since the death of your family.

***

You and the Winchesters found a decently priced motel to stay in to get your bearings before you went after the vampires. You watched Sam and Dean sleeping peacefully on their beds, but you were unable to get a wink. You and John sat on opposite sides of the table in the room listening to the police scanner.

You admired Dean’s relaxed features. You rarely saw him this at-ease. You wished you could be sleeping beside him, but your own mind was keeping you awake. The eldest Winchester looked over at you and whispered over the hum of the police scanner. “How’ve they been?” he asked.

You sighed. “They’re alright, I think. Been driving themselves crazy looking for you, though.”

He chuckled softly. “I figured they were.” He paused for a minute. 

“They need you more than they need me,” you said. “You should stay with ‘em. I’ll be hitting the road in a little while, I think.”

“Don’t,” he said. “They’ll need you when this is all over.”

“What? You’re not gonna stay?” You turned your head to John.

“I don’t think so,” he shook his head. 

You were disgusted at him. “Look, no disrespect, but that’s crap.”

He seemed caught off-guard. “And why’s that?” he challenged.

“Sam’s a mess. You walked out on Dean. Your boys deserve their father," you whispered harshly.

“Don’t act like you know me,” he hissed. “Dean’s a grown man. He’ll get over it. Sam, too. I’m not abandoning them; it’s just not safe.”

“Just call a spade a spade, John. Abandonment ‘for their safety’ is still abandonment,” you argued. 

“You don’t think I wanna be with my kids—?"

“No, I don’t actually,” you cut him off.

Before he could continue to argue with you, something on the police scanner caught your attention.

“Unit 22 let me confirm. Mile marker 41, abandoned car. You need a workup?” the static voice said.

“Copy that. Possible 207. Better get forensics out here,” another voice said.

“Sam, Dean, let's go,” John slapped their feet as he stood, his voice still gravelly from his anger with you.

“Mm-hmm,” Dean muttered, though still asleep.

Sam sat up and Dean rubbed his eyes.

“There’s a call on the scanner,” you said.

“(Y/N), did you get any sleep?” the older brother slurred sleepily.

“That’s not important right now,” you told him. “C’mon.”

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“A couple called 911,; found a body in the street. Cops got there and everyone was missing. It's the vampires,” John explained.

“How do you know?”

“Just follow me, okay?” John said, leaving the room. 

You turned to Sam who was putting his jacket on. “It’s how they hunt. They lay in the middle of the road and wait for somebody to pull over. By the time they get up close and personal, it’s too late. Then they leave.”

Dean sat up, still half-asleep. “You gonna be okay?” he asked you.

“I’m fine,” you responded. You could tell he didn’t believe you, but you left him behind without waiting for an argument.

***

John was talking to the cops while you and the brothers stood back by the Impala under the cover of the trees. He refused to look at you after your argument, and you refused to speak to him. You wouldn’t engage with a man who walked out on his children and put Dean through so much.

“I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him,” the brunet sighed sulkily.

“Oh, don't tell me it's already starting.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“What's starting?” Sam asked.

John walked up before either of you could answer.

“What have you got?” Dean asked his dad.

“It was them, alright. Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour,” John explained.

“How can you be so sure?” Sam challenged.

“Sam—” Dean tried.

“I just wanna know we're going in the right direction,” Sam told him sharply.

“We are,” John responded.

You stood back next to Dean, trying not to get involved in the fight.

“How do you know?”

John handed something to his oldest son. “I found this.”

“It's a vampire fang.”

“Not a fang, teeth. They’ve got a second set that comes out when they attack,” you explained, looking over Dean’s shoulder at the tooth.

“Any more questions?” John challenged Sam.

Sam looked away and stayed silent. 

“Alright, let's get out of here, we're losing daylight,” John said. Everything he said was said with authority. “Hey, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it,” he gruffly spat at his son before heading to his truck.

You angrily stared after the man before looking over at Dean, who grimaced and got into the passenger’s seat.

Sam drove, keeping a close follow on John’s truck. You rested your chin on Dean’s shoulder, looking over the excerpt he was reading about vampires in your journal. He read aloud to you and Sam. “ ‘Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks.’ I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple.”

Sam grumbled, “That's probably what Dad's thinking. Course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks.”

“So it is starting,” Dean sighed.

“What?”

“Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year. Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?” 

Sam huffed. “No. Look, I'm happy he's okay, alright? And I'm happy that we're all working together again.” 

“Well, good,” Dean said. 

The younger brother was unable to help himself. “It's just the way he treats us, like we're children.”

“Oh, God.” You sat back in the seat, doing your best to ignore the fight between the brothers.

“He barks orders at us Dean, he expects us to follow 'em without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal,” Sam argued.

“He does what he does for a reason.”

“What reason?”

“Our job! There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, alright? That's just the way the old man runs things.”

“Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids but not anymore, all right. Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show?” Sam looked over at his brother angrily.

Dean gave Sam a long look before strongly responding, “If that's what it takes.”

Sam shook his head and returned his eyes to the road.

A few minutes later, Dean was on the phone with his dad. “Yeah, Dad. Alright, got it.” He hung up. “Pull off at the next exit.”

Sam’s frustrated tone was back. “Why?”

“ ‘Cause Dad thinks we've got the vampire's trail,” Dean said matter-of-factly.

“How,” Sam somehow sounded angrier.

“I don't know. He didn't say,” Dean responded.

Sam gunned the engine, and pulled in front of his dad’s truck before slamming the breaks.

“What are you doing, Sam?” you asked.

Sam got out of the car without answering you.

“Oh, crap. Here we go.” Dean followed his brother out of the car. “Sam!”

You just watched from the back seat, deciding not to get between the family’s brawl.

You watched in the driver’s side rear view mirror as John and Sam got in each other’s faces. Dean was trying to pull the two apart, and you could make out some of what they were screaming at each other about.

Sam approached the car again before spinning back around at his father. You often got in fights like that with your own father but more about his treatment of you and your brother. You knew better than to argue his orders.

“You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!” Sam yelled loudly enough for you to hear.

Dean then shoved the two apart, forcing Sam back to the car. Sam got back in the driver’s seat, still enraged.

“Sam, do you want me to—”

“No,” he snapped at you.

“Oh-kay, then.”

***

You and the brothers sat in the trees watching the beat-up barn the vampires called home. Dean stood beside you and cursed, “Son of a bitch. So they're really not afraid of the sun?” as he watched the vampires climb into a car, shielding their faces with their hands.

“Nope,” you said. “Direct sunlight just stings like a badass sunburn.”

“The only way to kill 'em is by beheading. And yeah, they sleep during the day— doesn't mean they won't wake up,” John added.

“So I guess walking right in's not our best option,” Dean said.

“Actually, that's the plan,” John grinned.

You and the brothers flipped open the trunk of the Impala and began grabbing machetes. John did the same with his truck, but his was outfitted with a fancy, automatic, hidden compartment.

“Here, (Y/N).” Dean handed you a rusty machete.

You caught sight of the giant blade their dad was holding. “Whoa, why don’t you have any like that?”

Dean snorted and turned his head. “Wow.”

John paused, closing his trunk. “So, you boys really wanna know about this Colt?”

“Yes, sir,” said Sam.

“It's just a story, a legend really. Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter,” John began. “Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter, a man like us only on horseback. Story goes he made thirteen bullets, and this hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. And somehow, Daniel got his hands on it. They say... They say this gun can kill anything.”

“Kill anything, like, supernatural anything?” Dean breathed.

“Like the demon,” Sam connected.

“Yeah, the demon. Ever since I picked up its trail I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun, and we may have it.”

“Wait, and you couldn’t tell your kids that why?” you snarled.

“(Y/N)—” Dean scolded, but you couldn’t help yourself.

John just looked at his eldest son. “What exactly made you keep her around for so long?”

“Both of you, stop it,” Dean said. "Let’s get these fuckers while we have the chance.”

You backed off, tension dissolving a little at Dean’s words. You looked between the boys and their father. Their faces conveyed complex emotions you couldn’t quite read.

Silently, you and Dean flanked one end of the barn while Sam took the other with his father.

You and Dean jumped through a barn window and walked around their hammocks carefully. Dean accidentally kicked an empty bottle on the ground, and you froze. You made a worried face and looked over to Dean, who froze as well.

The vampire next to Dean stirred, but didn’t wake up. You and Dean continued on until you found a woman tied up against a pole. You weren’t sure if she was sleeping or unconscious. 

“Dean,” you whispered, crouching beside the woman. He came over to you as you began to untie her. You heard a noise behind you, and Dean went over to investigate.

“There’s more,” he said, grabbing something to break the locks on the metal cages a distance away from you.

The woman you were untying began to stir, and you did your best to assure her you were here to help.

The woman awoke and let out an unearthly roar. 

“Dean!” you called, shooting up.

“Kids, run!” John called to you after hearing your voice. You and Dean sprinted out of the building, yelling for Sam as you did so. The vampires chased you, but you used the daylight to your advantage. You broke back through the trees and returned to the cars.

“Dad?! Sam!” Dean called. The two then came back up the slope. 

“They won't follow. They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life,” John said.

“Well, what the hell do we do now?” Dean questioned.

“You gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what.”

You knew where John was going with this. You smiled at the boys who seemed confused. “C’mon, Dean,” you said, patting his shoulder. You turned to the Impala, and Sam and his father got in the latter’s truck.

Dean cruised down the road to the funeral home you had found and were planning to break into. 

“What the hell was that earlier?” Dean asked frustratedly as soon as the car doors were shut.

“What?”

“With my dad, (Y/N), why would you say something like that?!”

"Look, we got in a fight while you and Sam were sleeping. I just don’t like how he treats you guys,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but don’t. Sam’s enough for me right now as it is,” he responded.

A few moments passed, and you looked down at your hands. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

Dean sighed. “It’s okay.” He snorted after a moment. “Not many people would stand up to my dad like that.”

You smiled, eyes still on your hands folded in your lap. “He reminds me a lot of my dad. John and Sam fight exactly how my dad and I did. Steven always had to break us apart.”

“I just don’t understand why Sam can’t leave the old man alone,” Dean told you. “I mean, we spent so fucking long looking for ‘im, and as soon as we find him, he’s pickin’ fights.”

You nodded in understanding. “I get why he’s upset, but I agree that it’s the wrong place and wrong time right now. I mean, despite the fact that I picked a fight with him. Again, mistake on my part.” 

“Agreed.”

You let a moment of silence pass before you spoke again. “Dee?”

“Hm.”

“Now that we’ve found your dad, do you still want me here?”

He turned his head toward you. “Of course, I do. You’re not gettin’ rid of us that easy.”

You grinned. “Good. After a year of all this, you guys have become my new normal. I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to being alone again.”

Dean smirked and turned back to the road, pulling into the parking lot of the funeral home. 

After a few lies and a bit of breaking and entering, you and Dean were headed back to the motel with dead man’s blood in hand.

“What does that stuff do exactly?” Dean asked you as he drove.

“It’s kinda like vampire food poisoning. Pretty useful stuff,” you explained.

“How’ve you been with this whole thing?” he asked.

“What, the vampires?”

Dean nodded.

“Winchester, are you goin’ soft on me? Since when do you care to get into the touchy-feely?” you joked.

He rolled his eyes in response. “Answer the damn question, (Y/N).”

You sighed, dropping your plucky attitude. “I’m okay, I think. I just— I haven’t hunted any vamps since my parents died. Any time I sniffed any out, I ran the other way. It’s kind of ironic that the one thing I fucking hate hunting has the one thing we need to kill this demon.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, well, y’know… Just…” 

“There’s my boy. Having trouble with moments of sincerity once more,” you gibed but became serious once more as he rolled his eyes. “I know. If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

***

You were surprised to find John and Sam laughing when you reentered their motel room.

“Whew. Man, some heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys,” Dean said.

“Get it?” John asked.

You reached into Dean’s jacket pocket and pulled out a paper bag with a bottle full of blood inside it. You handed it over to the eldest Winchester.

“You know what to do,” he said.

***

You hated watching that creature feel Dean up and kiss him, but you knew you needed to let it happen for the sake of getting the Colt from the vampires. You’d already nearly beheaded her when she backhanded him.

Another vampire appeared behind the woman holding Dean in the air by his face, and that was when you made your move. You used a crossbow to shoot both of the vampires straight between their ribs, and the girl holding Dean dropped him.

“Dammit,” she cursed as you approached the group from the trees. “It barely even stings.”

“Give it time, babe,” you told her. “That arrow’s soaked in dead man’s blood. Should be giving you a nasty tummy ache any second.” You pouted at her mockingly as she began to waver and lose consciousness.

“Load her up,” John ordered you and his sons. “I'll take care of this one.” Moments later, you heard a slashing noise and blood splattering coming from behind you as you finished loading the girl into Dean’s trunk.

***

You met John in a clearing in the woods where you and Sam were setting up a campfire. Dean tied the unconscious vampiress to a tree, and you circled her, fuming.

“Easy, tiger,” Dean told you. “Don’t kill her just yet.”

“I’m tryin’ not to,” you responded, gripping the handle of your machete tightly.

He chuckled at you and turned to his dad.

“Toss this on the fire. Saffron, skunk's cabbage, and trillium. It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready,” John commanded.

“Stuff stinks!” Dean coughed.

“That's the idea. Dust your clothes with the ashes, and you stand a chance of not being detected,” his father replied.

“You sure they'll come after her?” Sam asked his dad.

“Vampires mate for life,” you broke in. “She means more to the leader than the gun.”

“But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time,” John added.

“A half hour oughta do it,” shrugged Sam.

“And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can,” John stated.

The boys began to protest.

“Well, Dad, you can't take care of them all yourself,” Dean said.

“I'll have her,” John replied, referencing the passed-out vampire. “And the Colt.”

“But after. We're gonna meet up, right? Use the gun together. Right?” Sam looked at his father expectantly. There was a long pause before Sam spoke again. “You're leaving again, aren't you. You still wanna go after the demon alone." Hes scoffed mockingly. "You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like children.”

“You are my children. I'm trying to keep you safe.”

Dean spoke up much to your surprise. “Dad, all due respect, but, uh, that's a bunch of crap.”

“Excuse me?” the older man scoffed.

“You know what Sammy and I have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe,” Dean argued.

“It's not the same thing, Dean.”

“Then what is it? Why do you want us out of the big fight?”

“This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive,” John responded.

“You mean you can't be as reckless.”

“Look, I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. Your mother's death… it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die too. I won't,” John admitted.

“What happens if you die? Dad, what happens if you die, and we could’ve done something about it?" He let his words hang in the air for a moment. "You know, I've been thinking. I think maybe Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together,” Dean stated.

Sam nodded as his brother continued. “We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it.”

John’s walls went back up. “We're running out of time. You do your job, and you get out of the area. That's an order.”

Dean looked down at the ground, and you watched him carefully as he tried to suppress his rising emotions. 

***

After you and the boys freed the people that had been locked up in the vampires’ barn, you went to find John and the members of the nest. You found them just in time because John had been knocked on his ass by the vampire you’d kidnapped.

You and the brothers hurried out of the trees and began shooting vampires with a crossbow. You moved toward the leader with your machete, but he backhanded you and held you in a headlock with his arm around your throat. 

You struggled against him as he addressed Dean, who was holding a machete of his own. “Don't! I'll break her neck. Put the blade down.”

Dean hesitated.

Luther tightened his hold on your neck, causing you to struggle more. “It’d be a real shame for her to die.” He dug his nose in your hair and sniffed deeply. “She’s pretty. I’d love having her around. Drop it!”

Dean did as told, and his jaw clenched in fury. 

“You people. Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do,” the leader said.

“I don’t think so,” came John’s voice from behind you. The vampire spun you and himself around to face John, who shot the vampire in the middle of his forehead. He dropped you to the floor, and Dean rushed to your side.

You turned and watched a sigil appear on the man’s forehead where he’d been shot as his girlfriend screamed in agony. “Luther!”

The vampire slumped to the ground, dead. The vampiress started toward John, but was pulled away by her friend to get to their car. They took off, wheels screaming and leaving you in the dust.

***

You sat in the brothers’ motel room, having finished packing long before they had as usual. John entered the room and addressed his sons. “So, boys.”

They stopped packing and turned to face him. “Yes, sir.”

“You ignored a direct order back there,” he said crossly.

“Yes, sir.” Sam hung his head low.

Dean argued, “Yeah, but we saved your ass.”

John held his son’s challenging stare, and you swallowed nervously.

“You're right,” John admitted much to your surprise.

“I am?”

If it weren’t for the situation, you would’ve laughed at Dean’s adorably clueless face.

“It scares the hell out of me. You two are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So… we go after this damn thing. Together.”

You smiled as the two boys said in unison, “Yes, sir.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @skys-writings @immagods @metalblindbitch @missmieux @yoongi-holland

hi there lovebugs!! quite a few tags were broken :( if i've misspelled your tag, please let me know! make sure you have my blog notifs on so you don't miss an update!!

[mayordea]

gallerian marlon

penultimate entry of the evillious tribute series! i really like how he came out. the background's a lil more saturated than i anticipated but i'm pretty into it....

[toweringclam]

Hades 2 theory (Spoilers)

I have a theory about how Chronus escaped, or at least how quickly he was able to take over Tartarus. Tagging for spoilers, but I'll put it below the cut just in case.

The entry on Tartarus mentions that when Chronus took over, all his clockwork machinery rose with him, as if it had just been waiting for him. Melinoë wonders aloud who could have possibly built all this.

It's similarly mysterious who keeps rebuilding the force field in Ephyra, or where Chronus's army got such futuristic (by Greek standards) technology like galleons and wooden barrels. The gods comment on that frequently, insisting it'll never catch on, but where did they get it?

A big clue is Daedalus's Hammers. We found them all over the place in Hades because he was supposedly building all the traps and twisting corridors of Tartarus. But we also find them on the surface now. Melinoë comments on the pomegranates also growing above ground, but the Daedalus hammers pass without comment.

I think he flipped for Chronus a while ago. All his work on Tartarus was hiding Chronus's machinery. He's a major part of Chronus's planned "golden age," using his advanced technology to conquer the entire world after Olympus.

Now, to go completely out on a limb here, I think he's responsible for the ominous rumbling beneath Olympus. The invasion fleet is just a distraction. He's actually burrowing underneath the mountain with some kind of digging machine that will serve as either the penultimate or final boss of that route.

Also, with Icarus as a potential love interest for Melinoë, it'll certainly create tension if his dad is Chronus's #2.

[onesunofagun]

I will now yell about Fi and Ghirahim as symbols of their respective creators, please stand by:

So, the biggest slap addition the lore that Skyward Sword gave us was (Her Grace) Hylia and (the Bringer of) Demise. Entities who, regardless of confusing localisation choices, exist as two sides of the same coin and are locked into a mutual karmic cycle.

They reflect each other like a mirror, and also represent an antithesis of each other, seemingly existing as consequence to one other. They were presented as the penultimate deities of the physical and metaphysical realms of their world since the advent of its creation by the departed Golden Goddesses; twinned yet opposite, and each both inevitable and necessary.

Shadow; Light. Chaos; Order. Indulgence; Restraint. Upheaval; Stability. Primordial; Designed. Spite; Grace. Hidden; Seen.

Ghirahim; Fi.

It goes right down to the blades that Demise and Hylia would level at one another. The spirits of each are a representative of the principles and philosophy championed by their creators.

Now, the closer you get to the works and relics of the Gods/Gods Tribe in Zelda, the more you see divine constructs that blur the line of spiritual magic and advanced technology, and are ostensibly both. This was a direction that really bloomed in Skyward Sword, taking a running start on it that games hereafter have followed. The caveat is that only certain special people chosen by Gods or otherwise given permission to use this kind of Magitech can interact with it or produce things like it (either at all, or without punishment).

Even the Sheikah, who have closely served the intentions of the Gods/Spirits of Light (Hylia and her aligned) all throughout history, make the mistake of getting too comfortable in their inspiration and cross the line into imitations. Despite the successful utilisation of, and later recovery of, certain Sheikah Tech such as the Divine Beasts to positive effect, the tragedy of both the Sheikah's Divide and the Calamity's hijacking of Hyrulean defence systems is still played as a cautionary tale of hubris and knowing one's place in the natural order of things.

The Sheikah were effectively making unauthorised knockoffs of Divine Magitech and it bit them on the arse.

Can't have shit in Hyrule.

Pretty much every significantly advanced tribe in Zelda has a stated closeness to 'the Gods'. Either by being adjacent to or descended from deities and spirits collectively known as the Gods (specifically the Gods Tribe in JP), they are still distinctly subordinate to and separated from entities such as Hylia and the three Golden Goddesses.

Confirmed to be included in this special grouping are the Zonai and the Oocca, for instance. Speculatively, the Wind Tribe are an example of people who ascended (with permission or worthiness) from the surface-- they are an arguably Gerudo adjacent tribe who may even be precursors to the Zonai or related to the Twili.

The Picori, at the very least those in their native realm, also certainly count as part of this grouping. Though it could be argued whether those descent Minish living on the surface still do.

The Sheikah, it should be noted, have never gained entry to this Gods club. Despite their proximity in worship and service to Hylia, historically, they've also done some pretty shady things-- like the Shadow Temple and the general murder and espionage stuff -- that may have otherwise excluded them from ascending like the Wind Tribe did. They walk a grey line, and they have a duty in the eyes of the Powers That Be that apparently prefer they stay put.

Not Turtle-y enough for the Turtle Club.

Another example of this Icarus flying too close to the Sun type cautionary tale, and a far more egregious offender in the eyes of the Gods Tribe, are the 'Interlopers' who would eventually become the Twili. They were a tribe of people that, while squabbling with others, tried to take dominion of Hyrule (referred to itself as the Sacred Realm/Holy Land in TP) with powerful magic that more or less gave them a winning advantage. Specifically, the Crystal Stone of Shadow (the Fused Shadow) which greatly amplified their magical power.

Banished by the Spirits of the Light whole cloth into an underworld (lit. A Realm of the Dead) that we also know as the Twilight Realm, they have been shunned from the land they tried to conquer and transformed by shadow so much, they're now allergic to the light (without sufficient mystical power to bolster themselves).

Basically, the intended message is this: any earthly people who have advanced themselves without approval by the Gods Tribe-- especially by using Divine Constructs as inspiration or means-- have therefore disrupted the order of things, and stacked the deck too much in their own favour. Even if the intent was primarily a fixation on preserving Hylia's bloodline, and by extension her sacred land, it is still possible to elevate oneself above your contemporaries (especially the capacities of the Royal Family line in Hyrule) in such a way that you impose too much independent influence upon the the natural world.

No longer following 'the way of the Gods' (the Gods Tribe law) or respecting the order of things (ala Shintoist inspiration), you are labelled a disruption to harmony and peace, and therefore seen as corrupted and pollutive, and generally negative in your impact. You will then be chased off, at the very least, unless you renege-- for fear that you will bring in demonic influences or be used by them. This has canonically happened to both the Gerudo and the Sheikah, now.

But you know who Magic Constructs on par with the Gods Tribe, except it's more eldritch and organic-looking and primordial in form? It's the other club, the one that the disenfranchised Sheikah went and banged on the door of, hoping to be let in if they started wearing cool red and black outfits and changed their name and stopped worshipping Hylia.

Yeah. It's the Demon Tribe-- who are pretty much just the inverse reflection of the Gods Tribe and its set up. Their Magitech equivalents, and what they can do, only serve to further cement this.

Specifically, if you could suggest that the Gods Tribe's main objective is maintaining a status quo of shared prosperity that provides an ordered and peaceful existence through conformity and tradition, the Demon tribe is an ever churning well of opportunity where winner takes all. It is a hierarchy built on brutal meritocracy, honed by constant challenges and hard won continuation-- survival and status fought for and maintained by individualistic influence and innovation.

Many various little bastards exist in the Demon Tribe. Bosses in charge of sub-tribes of monsters are commonly seen, but they have their minor Deities ad Spirits, too. The head honchos are called Demon Kings (plural, because it doesn't describe a single position, but rather just very powerful Demons who have clout). Demise is both a Demon King, namely the most powerful one, and also the 'Chief' of the Demon Tribe; just as, in this case, Hylia could be considered the 'Chief' of the Gods Tribe. So, Demon God-King, really.

While Demise is incapacitated by Hylia's seal, his role as the Chief of the Demon Tribe is actually the position that Ghirahim fills in for as his (literal) right hand man-- the very extension of his arm, as his blade.

Both the Master Sword (Fi) and Ghirahim himself are, perhaps, some of the most advanced forms of this sort of Magitech we've actually ever seen.

Ghirahim goes above and beyond in his role, even going so far as to cultivate his full persona as a Demon in his own right in order to maintain his authority as the effective Regent while the big boy is incapacitated. He disguises his true form and nature, and with a surprising level of autonomy and self-transformation for what he is, sets about attending his duties with great devotion.

He seems to have an incredibly intuitive and flexible mode of operation. His sentience is full of creativity, emotionality, and genuine potential that he has the capacity to explore and shape with great freedom, for the construct that he is.

He is flamboyant and attention grabbing, highly expressive. He entertains great personal indulgence, even going so far as to toy with Link in a manner that borders on vicious training for a while. Though in part due to his undeniable sadism, Ghirahim almost can't help himself but to continue to test and push against the potential as a swordsman that the Hero has, inadvertently cultivating its growth.

This depth of identity and adaption he's capable of was either an intentional part of his design, or specifically not prevented by it-- both of which stand to represent something of Demise and Demonkind. The lengths to which Ghirahim is allowed to wield himself when not in his creator's hand is remarkable and, though he is shown to be unable to override actual commands from his master, it stands in an interesting contrast to Fi.

Where Ghirahim is able to radically redefine his own presentation and function to best suit his Master's needs in a way that mimics the organic, Fi's evolution is far more linear and streamlined, never really deviating from systematic updates. Though the sword itself is subject to physical restorations, Fi's personal appearance is unchanged and reflective of her true shape, indicating that her tempering in the Sacred Flames is either a slow return to previous form or a pre-programmed and permanent upgrade set into motion by Hylia. It is also an evolution that is entirely dependant upon the actions of others, largely lacking the individual agency and flexibility that Ghirahim possesses.

Not to suggest that Fi is any less devoted to her purpose, however.

She is, quite unlike Ghirahim's aspect of individual advancement, wholly geared toward a model of mutual enhancement with a partner. She is built with a singular and clear objective in mind, perfectly designed to suit the needs of the one wielding her as a supplement to their ability, rather than an autonomous servant. She defers entirely to her Master's decisions at all times, though does make informed suggestions, and does not appear to be able to relocate the physical sword on her own. Many of her abilities are things that must be directly requested of her.

Even when she is given to performance, such as her singing or her ballet, these are seemingly dispassionate affairs that are precisely executed, preprogramed displays for Link's benefit. Absolutely nothing, not even particular inflections of emotionality, must risk the distortion of her relayed messages and guidance to Link-- these displays may also be something analogous to morale boosting rewards or a really weird form of reverence to the musically inclined Hylia. Either way, Fi is highly logical and presents herself foremost as an instrument and a tool. She does not indulge in a persona or otherwise engage in anything not directly tied to her assigned mission-- she does not get distracted or indulge personal whims as Ghirahim does. But critically, a large part of her design is geared towards an awareness of her surroundings. Fi has a visible consciousness for the living things around her at all times, contrasting to Ghirahim's seeming negligence of them and open disdain.

Fi's orderly efficiency and lack of cultivated personality to detract from her purpose make the fact of her construction obvious. Unlike Ghirahim, her true nature and her task is almost painfully undisguised. She exists in a simple sincerity, almost austere, seemingly unwilling or unable to seek function beyond her designation without being updated by another. However, her concentrated application seems to achieve concentrated results, strengthening both herself and her wielder in a near impenetrable mutual reinforcement.

It is perhaps of no coincidence that, despite Fi's seeming inflexibility and clinical pragmatism, she also expresses something of a fondness for Link at the end-- in many ways, mirroring her Divine creator. She does this very robotically, by correlating her collected data time spent together and their completed task with what she's observed of human happiness.

Skyward Sword seems to argue that Ghirahim's main flaw is spreading himself too thin, or trying to be so many other things, that he falls short as a sword in the end. It suggests that his sin, like others in the franchise, is getting too big for his boots scabbard and letting his pride become his downfall. His individualism gets presented with a great cost, as he has only enhanced himself in ways that seemingly do not apply when he returns to his primary function as a sword. The emotionality he has, such as the frustration and cockiness and bloodlust he indulges, are also shown to lower his successes-- reducing the sense of his efficiency and precision beside the ever level, measured Fi.

When he returns to Demise's hand, Ghirahim is already weakened and spent. Despite all he's done for his Master's revival, Demise is left to fight with a paling version of the blade that once fatally wounded Hylia-- not unlike a Master Sword in need of restoration to its full power.

There's a legend regarding Gorō Nyūdō Masamune, widely regarded as the greatest swordsmith in Japanese history, and Sengo Muramasa, who is famously known for creating unique and terrifically sharp blades that are considered cursed.

It starts when Muramasa challenges Masamune to see who can make a finer sword. When the work is done, they go down to a river, and place the blades in the water with the cutting edge towards the current.

Muramasa's sword, which he named Ten Thousand Winter Nights, cuts everything that floats its way-- leaves, fish, even the wind that happened across it. It is so sharp that nothing escapes unscathed.

Masamune's sword, named Tender Hands, is placed in the river and cuts the leaves that go by so seamlessly, they reform on the other side. Fish swim up to it and seem to be repelled by its aura, avoiding death. The wind kisses the blade gently with a pleasant whistle.

Muramasa isn't impressed by this. He thinks the blade is useless, barely cutting anything at all, and starts to remark on the lack of skill. Masamune smiles at the criticism, but merely compliments that Muramasa's sword is indeed quite sharp.

A monk who had watched all this from nearby approaches at that point, bows, and interjects with his own observations.

Though he too observes that Muramasa's sword is technically very finely made, he notes that it's a bloodthirsty, wicked blade. It cuts anything in its path indiscriminately, he says, and would just as soon cut a butterfly in half as remove somebody's head.

Masamune's sword, however, was the clear winner in the monk's opinion-- a gentle blade that did not needlessly cut that which was innocent or undeserving, tempered by grace. It is a benevolent sword, and so far finer made.

In popular culture, Muramasa's blades have held onto their violent reputation. There's a superstition that they can compel their wielder to murder. It has even been said that, once drawn, they can't be sheathed again until their thirst for blood is sated-- even if it has to drink from its own wielder.

They also had a weirdly consistent habit of maiming or killing members of the Tokugawa Shogunate, and so became an anti-Tokugawa symbol synonymous with the rebellion. So that's fun.

But Masamune was considered to be a very calm man, who was controlled and reserved and quite spiritual. Muramasa, though, was depicted as an aggressive man, who was a bit wild and kinda unpredictable. As far as the folk stories go, Muramasa is depicted as having been quite envious of Masamune. Unlike Masamune, who approached his craft as the art of achieving clean death, they say Muramasa needed to transfer his unhinged energy into his blades to keep from being overwhelmed by it himself.

Because their natures bled into the swords they created, it was believed that Masamune and Muramasa imbued them with purifying and demonic power, respectively.

Just as with Demise and Hylia and the swords that they created-- as inspired by such a legend-- the spirits inside of them represent their natures, as well.

[spookystirfry]

Ninth and the penultimate entry of orcrober! A parasite warlock! Prompt list from quihnn

[all-is-for-all]

I'm re-reading the entire Deltora Quest series for the first time in what's probably been two full decades, and the penultimate book is this one:

It's a solid entry, but man does the Guardian here ooze meme-potential.

Two possibilities

Dream blunt rotation: the Guardian offers you a hit as you hold the diamond — the gem which gives courage and strength, protects the holder from pestilence, and helps the cause of true love. Good music (your choice) plays and good friends (your choice) are in the circle with you, and a marathon of Planet Earth is on in the background. The hit is exceedingly pleasant and you experience the best high of your life.

Nightmare blunt rotation: the Guardian peer-pressures you into taking too many (harsh, hacking) hits and then tells you to solve his riddle in the allotted (not enough) time, all while tense music plays and body-horror beasts bite at your heels. There is only panic and brain fog in the struggle to solve it, and he makes fun of you (villainous cackling) as you try. If/when you fail to solve it, he turns you into a ghost that is too-high for all eternity.

Roll a D20 to determine which possibility you get. Anything above a 1 gets you the dream blunt rotation, because I'm a nice guy 🙂

[kathanglangit]

The Sixth Blade - ... - Fear Itself

Last two days! Gubat Banwa launches on Kickstarter on October 10, and we need your help to get the word out! Silence your fear- stifle it if you must. Harness it if you can. Fear begets hesitation, Kadungganan, and when rivers bleed, and skies burn, and blades dance to the rhythm of cannonfire- Hesitation is death. Let the Sword Isles of Gubat Banwa paint your stories in its thousand colors, inspired by the intricate cultures of Southeast Asia. Carve your legacy into the world by blade and smoke as warrior Kadungganan in this tactical martial arts TTRPG.

Not long now until the long-anticipated KS launch, and I've been posting the weapons I've drawn for the game as a sort of countdown. These were supposed to be Swordtember drawings, but the launch got bumped back a little bit. 6/7 blades! The penultimate entry goes to the CORDILLERAN AXE

Some time in June 2020, a certain weapon was intercepted in Australia entering the country from the United States. An ancient terror-weapon, which brought low the conquistadors of old, and drenched the soil of the pine mountains such that the ground remains the color of rust. In November the following year, the ax was returned to the Philippines. Strap in- it's about to get really convoluted.

(Photo from the Philippine Embassy in Australia) You may be wondering why I referred to this blade as a "Cordilleran Ax" rather than using a native term like in the rest of this series. That is mostly because the ax comes in many forms, and bears many, many names. Seriously, you wouldn't believe how many names there are for these things.

(Photo from the collection of Nonoy Tan) They are commonly called "head axes" (we'll get to why in a minute- but you can probably guess), referring to a collective of different blades of a more-or-less similar shape, used by the peoples of the Cordilleras. "Igorot" is a general term used to refer to these peoples of the mountains of north Luzon.

(Diagram by Lorenz Lasco)

You will recall from the thread on the hinalung that Spain never took the Cordilleras, allowing the peoples there to more easily preserve their traditions and cultures. These axes belong to some of those same cultures. These- too- were preserved from way back.

(Figure from The Tingguian: Social, Religious, and Economic Life of a Philippine Tribe by Fay-Cooper Cole) It's easy to forget that these objects- all of the blades I've been posting about- are very deeply embedded in cultures that still exist today. These peoples have their own names and stories and knowledge of these blades that I simply do not have access to the way they do. It's all I can do to try and deliver accurate info without misrepresenting anything.

(Photo from the National Museum) And try I have. This is a diagram I tried to make as a reference, way, way back.

I know a bit more now, I'm not sure if I still stand by this, I am sure that it will need some updating. Due diligence is the bare minimum we can do, to respect the knowledge of people who are still around. Allow me to try again! The one I drew in the image at the start of this thread is called the SINAWIT. This is the Kalinga variant of the axe. From what I can tell, those with the curved/concave cutting edges tend to belong in this category.

(Photo from Pinoy Blade Hunter) Supposedly, the protrusion on the handle is also indicative of a Kalinga origin.

(Photo from Ursulo of Filipino Traditional Blades)

(Photos from Global Inventory of Filipiniana Artifacts) Here's some close-ups of another example, featuring ornamentation in the form of copper/copper-alloy "staples" along the handle, which may have also aided in providing grip.

(Photos from Lorenz Lasco) Variations in size are common across all the axes we'll be looking at, some are short and fit well in one-hand, others are large enough to accommodate two. The biggest ones I've seen are sinawit.

(Photo from Christian Vasquez of Filipino Traditional Blades)

(Photo from Ron Zambarrano) Next up is the GAMEN or GAMAN. This is the Bontoc variant of the axe. Here's a gamen (top) compared to a sinawit (bottom) of similar size. Notice the difference in the shapes of the blades.

(Photo from the collection of Zel Umali as shared by Filipino Traditional Blades) Another term that gets thrown around is "pinagas", though I believe this is a general term referring to all "head axes" rather than one specific variant. I could very well be wrong on this, as the word pinagas has to come from one of the many languages in the Cordlieeras- I'm just not certain which. This one was labelled "Bontoc pinagas".

(Photo from Zel Umali) The thickness of the blade tends to vary as durability requires. In particular, the spike on the back tends to be thicker overall. Portions of the blade closer to the handle appear to be thicker as well.

(Photos from Lorenz Lasco) Examples of the gaman as I have seen them tend to have more straight or sometimes convex blades. I am uncertain if the convex shape is a unique feature, or a product of happenstance, or just how whoever used this blade liked to sharpen it.

(Photo from Pinoy Blade Hunter) They also tend to be "taller" than sinawit I've seen, with blades that are almost like squares with spikes on the back, as opposed to sinawit that are more rectangular. Still following so far? Good- it's going to get more complicated soon.

I am not- by any means- formally educated on Philippine blades, so always take my words with a grain of salt. This ax inherited by a blacksmith in Baguio is something that might be gaman, but I can't categorize it with certainty without knowing more. The profile is not exactly the same, the spike is considerably longer and more curved.

(Photo from HanYan Blades) But that's the least of our worries! The ALIWA, BINARAWAD, BADAN, BADON, BINAROY are only some of the terms used to refer to the Isneg variants. Remember when I said it would get convoluted?

(Photo from Nonoy Tan; Identified as binarawad-badan-badon in that order) The binarawad in the previous photo looks- to my very untrained eye- to be similar to the gaman in many respects. Whenever I think I've identified a distinction, a different specimen shows up.

(??? from Rob Miller)

(Gaman(?) from Hearst Museum) Remember when I said the protrusion on the handle was uniquely Kalinga? But I also said taller/squarer blades were common in gaman? But the swept shape on the back looks emblematic of the Isneg variants we just saw? Identify that topmost blade for me, real quick.

(Photo from Pinoy Blade Hunter) Material exchange of culture makes a mess of categorization. The peoples of the Cordilleras regularly interacted- by trade, union, or warfare- and the influences clearly went all ways. Perhaps that blade above was made by a smith who took influences from a variety of sources. Perhaps the blade itself has worn out its old handle, and the new owner replaced it with this one There are a lot of ways this could have come about, it's difficult to say. Blades tend to make their way around. This sinawit- a Kalinga blade- has been passed down through generations, and was found in Sagada.

(Photo from Pinoy Blade Hunter) It certainly doesn't help when blades are found far from home and are labelled with confusing specific terms or useless general terms or just different terms entirely.

[Author's Note: Apparently there's a 30 image limit per post? I'll continue this in a reblog, I think.]

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: April 2024

Ooooooooh it's getting warmer and sunnier and the days are getting longer! Yet I still stay inside to read and watch tv and stuff.

……….FILM……….

Pee-Wee's Big Adventure (1985) Loved it. A comedy that is so generous with the types of humour (sight gags, absurdist stuff, one-lines). Watching it I was thinking "oh this reminds me of watching Elvira" and then Cassandra Peterson shows up in the biker gang! Loved the whole thing.

Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro (1979) I've been meaning to watch this ever since Sam Bosma shared the incredible poster he did. If I didn't know Hayao Miyazaki directed this then I would've spent the entire runtime thinking "whoa real Hayao Miyazaki vibes here." Great standalone film if you know nothing about Lupin III.

……….TELEVISION……….

Fallout (Episode 1.01 to 1.08) Having never played the games, I was really interested if this series would work for someone like me. It took a bit to connect and it mostly landed. Not bad at all but it hasn't really left a lasting impression.

Succession (3.05 to 4.02) Can't believe it's almost over. What I appreciate about this series is that it knows the show is at its best when the core trio are together and does everything it can to highlight this. But never forget that they are all awful people. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Delicious in Dungeon (Episode 1.14 to 1.17) This adaptation of the comic continues to be excellent. I hope folks dig the show so much that they decide to read the series as it offers a few more character details that are fun to discover.

X-Men '97 (Episode 1.01 to 1.07) Wasn't a big fan of X-men (comic or the show) as a kid but heard enough good things that I figured I'd check it out. While I'm not immune to the nostalgia of the intro, I really do think the show is fantastic. The story feels dramatic and just mature enough to allow for great character moments and the animation is top-notch. Really glad I gave this a shot.

……….YOUTUBE……….

Why I (Used to) Hate Video Essays by Extranet Shaquille and Yellow Paint by Caleb Gamman Just a coincidence but these two unrelated videos both veer away from their main topics to become a study in...media consumption/attention culture/the struggles of existing in our current times. (Video Essays) VIDEO (Yellow Paint) VIDEO

……….READING……….

Appointment with Death by Agatha Christie (Complete) This feels more like the first Christie book I read (There is a Tide, still my favourite) in that there are twists and turns around engaging characters. Plus the victim was such an engaging villain. Based on the handful I've read so far, I think this would be a good entry point into Christie's works.

A Spectre Haunting: On the Communist Manifesto by China Miéville (Complete) After hearing a number of interviews with Mieville I was really excited for this but found the whole thing...frustrating. Maybe I'm not smart enough or maybe I'm not the target audience, but I don't really know who this book was written for. My gut tells me the writing is practically impenetrable unless you have a masters in English and that doesn't feel like the right fit for the subject matter. If brevity is the soul of wit then I'll leave it there and just say that the last couple pages, written clearly and with conviction, did more for me than the previous 150+ pages.

Delicious in Dungeon Volume 13 (and also Volume 6) by Ryoko Kui (Complete) Rereading and also catching up on the latest volume! It's nearly over! Volume 13 is the penultimate chapter and I'm still impressed by how consistent the characters, humour, and dedication to theme this series remains. Really really incredible.

……….GAMING……….

Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) Tuesday crew is picking off the invading Elves fairly effectively but at what cost? And what are the repercussions of an act like this? Only time will tell. Also you can read all about their adventures here!

Oz: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) The Mof1 crew continues to dig into the mysteries of the mud banks but might get sidetracked by the fame and fortune of wrestling.

And that's it. See you in May!

[celestialholz]

Normal/Flying/Enigma - or 'Larry is a goddamn Christmas present, and here's what I found when I unwrapped him'

... Fucking Larry, huh? Mad guy. Absolutely unhinged set of pixels. He's got as many interpretations as days in the year - autism, depression, the working man stereotype, 'just a dude', to name a few - but... and I know this is a bold claim, but I think I've got him figured out. I've already meta'd him before on a smaller scale, and concluded that Mister Quiet, Calm and Collected here is actually a secret showman who loves crowd approval, so let's carry on.

Let's work our way under his skin, yeah? You just sit there and eat onigiri king, take a well-deserved break.

Let's start with the obvious: Larry has no clue who he is. He gives you the Facade TM, tells you he hopes you have no need to put on the same front as him, and then during his rematch says this on why he loves Normal types:

... Which is all well and good, right? Fair, valid, pretty regular guy - except oh no wait, hang on, he is literally the least ordinary trainer in this franchise.

This right here is a perfect example of the duality of Larry already, and we've just started. He's a showman, an exhibitionist in the Pokemon arena, and he duel-serves as Elite Four and gym leader.

Just to put that into context for those fans who are newer than my veteran ass, no one does that. Even those who got promoted later - Lance, Koga and Wallace, unless I'm forgetting anyone else - have never wielded two titles simultaneously. And even in their promotions, Lance, Koga and Wallace keep their damn types. They don't master a whole new one, at the highest of battling levels, on a goddamn whim because their boss said to. Whether he likes it or not, by the established standards of this series, Larry is a fucking genius. Even those with mixed teams don't hold type mastery to this degree. Whether or not you personally found him easy or difficult to defeat either time is not the point - literally, no one's doing it like he is. He trains four entire new team members, between his three jobs (because oh yeah, he's got another one), to the late fifties/early sixties in levels and acts like it ain't shit. That's endgame levels to anyone else, the culmination of their eighteen-badge journey or their literal years of training - for Larry, it's fucking LEISURE TIME. Man's doing this in front of Netflix.

... And we're supposed to believe he's NORMAL? And the thing is, I don't even think he's gaslighting us, at least not consciously - he genuinely believes this. This is his normal.

No wonder Geeta sticks him in the gym right next to Area Zero. 90% sure he could solo the place if you gave him a few hours to go and catch the right team. Don't even know what we're doing here, to be quite honest. Might as well go home and hug the Skwovet in my own lounge, the adorable little bastard. What the honest fuck.

My man, take a look in that mirror as you munch those delicious rice balls. There ain't a single thing regular about you. Larry seems to have no clue that his life is anything but standard - he walks around wearing a facade. His penultimate mon, which I've covered the significance of before with Flapple and Hassel (and with Larry himself here), is Staraptor, a lone wolf, who leaves the flock upon evolving to live alone, and yet his ace Flamigo only functions well in a group. Just a quick compare-and-contrast between the dex entries of them both here:

... Excuse me whilst I error 404. He's got so little clue who he is, even his team has personality conflicts.

Thing is, right... if he walks around wearing a facade, why does he? In fact, whilst we're on the subject of his team, why doesn't he take his clearly vacation-themed team ON A VACATION?

Look at these guys.

Palm trees, tropical birds, blue skies with clouds, and... well, Staraptor's clearly his favourite. Man's got a holiday-themed squad, which leads us to another core point:

Larry doesn't drown himself in work because he likes it, he does it because he doesn't have anything else.

Logically, Larry must make bank. We don't know what the gym leaders get paid - though for the first time, we know that they definitely do, thanks to this:

(Thank you for that little screenshot, @prince-kallisto. <3)

And not only does he get paid from this, but he's in the Elite Four - every sensible conclusion says that this man has to be one of the highest-paid trainers in Paldea. And he's got a third job that we don't even know about. Bearing in mind that every other adult NPC in this game seems to get along just fine with one or two jobs, I don't think we need to remotely worry about Larry's finances.

And he doesn't particularly like any of his jobs, so he doesn't do them for love... and if he doesn't take any time off, he must be drowning in potential time to take off...

So, why doesn't he go on holiday? Why does he drown himself in work he dislikes when he has no financial need to; why does he live a lie; why doesn't he find out who he is?

Well, there's only one thing that really connects all that together, isn't there?

Larry's life is a void because he's alone.

When people are lost, they throw themselves into work to find purpose. What's the point of going on holiday when you've got no one to go with? This man does embody a stereotype perfectly, but it's probably not the one you think. It's much simpler - 'money can't buy you happiness.'

He tells you about this loneliness himself, in a way.

Larry has normal and regular interests, in a world where he is anything but, and people only want to be surprised. No one gets him, whether because they're not on his battling level, or because he's too ordinary. And when no one gets you... how are you supposed to get yourself? However introverted we are, we experience ourselves partly through others. He has the Elite Four, who are 100% a found family, but... the problem with that is that they accept him at face value because they love him. Which is amazing and all, we adore that, but it means no one gets under his skin.

And the further problem of that is that he's no happier deep-down. And that's not on his colleagues, not at all. Rika is relaxed and easygoing, Poppy is a child, and Hassel... well, Hassel is drama, Hassel is married. Hassel has his own perfect love story already. Hassel has already seen someone a little bit like Larry before - directionless, depressed, unsure of his own self - and he went and promised him forever anyway. (Hello Brassius, I see you king. Be careful on that windmill.)

... And that... yeah, that's kind of the crux of it all. Larry needs him someone very much like Hassel; someone who sees through every layer of facade, someone who accepts. (... I realise this is me right now, and yes, I do volunteer as tribute. Come here, you beautiful fucking not-normal man. <3)

Essentially, what I'm saying is...

Larry needs a partner... and I don't mean another Pokemon one.

But, as sad a conclusion as that is... he's learning, by the end of your time with him.

(Can we talk about the chef lady in the background, by the way, who is ignoring her TikTok to listen to his conclusion? What a sweetheart.)

We've taught him to open himself up a bit, to start embracing the new and the different. We've started to help this man, and if that isn't the most worthy thing my Nuzlocke son Juan here has done in his adventure through Paldea that wasn't helping a sick dog, I don't know what is.

As much as they annoy us sometimes, happiness is other people. Other people who see your soul, and smile. Perhaps he doesn't even need a romantic partner... perhaps he just needs the world's best friend.

But whatever it is that he needs... let him go on holiday, Game Freak. Let him be him, and very happy because of it. Give him a Hassel who isn't Hassel, and a month off at a certain DLC festival to spend with them. Larry exists in a club of one - he's too talented in the same breath as he's too average.

(Personally, I think he should take Katy, but... hey, that's me and my vanillacupcakes agenda. And the fact her ace is a Normal type who likes dessert.)

[classicalshorts]

Yellow Varieties

Welcome to this the sixth entry in Cool Colours. Yellow is wonderful and represents rather a unique case in this series' exploration. To look at the word at first glance, you would be forgiven for thinking that our word yellow has no links to Latin whatsoever. You would be both right and wrong, however. There is a link and a rather neat and unusual one. The word yellow is more closely connected to German 'gelb'. But it doesn't look like that either, you say. So, here is a brief glimpse at this lovely colour name's history. It stems primarily from the early German word 'gelwaz', to which the Italian 'giallo' is also related. Both stem ultimately from the Proto-Indo-European (henceforth PIE) word 'ghel-' which meant 'to shine'. Now PIE, is now widely believed to have been an early, now extinct language, from which most European languages and Sanskrit were all born. Now, here comes the Latin link. Latin is also descended from PIE and its word for pale yellow, helvus, comes from the same parent stem as German 'gelb'. So, it is linked to the word, it is just a relative that evolved slightly differently. Also, if you read the Latin helvus, pronouncing the 'v' as a 'w' (as many argue it should be) the connection with our 'yellow' becomes clearer.

Our trip through the colour yellow does not stop there. I have three further Classical terms for yellow for you that bequeathed us words in English. Let us start with Latin.

Have you ever read that you should get more of the vitamin Riboflavin (B2) in your diet? Well, the 'flavin' part of the word comes from the Latin flavus, meaning 'yellow', often a golden or reddish shade of yellow. 'What's a vitamin got to do with 'yellow'?' ,you ask. Well, the flavins are a group of organic compounds, from which Riboflavin is derived, and their colour is, you've got it, YELLOW. They are very important to life. So green might be life, but it appears yellow is, too.

Could your hair be described as 'fulvous'? No, it does not mean it is voluminous (full-vous, get it? Never mind). Again, this rather old-fashioned and probably forgotten word comes from another Latin word for 'yellow', this time fulvus, which denotes a brownish, tawny yellow. It was often used to describe lions.

Lastly, can I ask you if your daffodils betray a xanthic hue? So, we head over to the ancient Greeks for our penultimate yellow word of today. The Greek word ξανθος (xanthos) could denote hair that was blonde or even auburn, so again it can denote a reddish gold.

Crocus is our final shade today. Now, we see crocuses that are pink, blue, and yellow, but Greek word (κροκος) originally referred to the saffron plant, which yields a famous rich yellow colouring. There is even rather a sweet instance of it being used in a Greek text to describe the colour of egg-yolks.

The bright, cheerful colour yellow therefore, not only has a great etymological (i.e. word family) history, but it also has many different variations in Classical terms. EGG-sellent! Okay, there's a reason I'm a classicist not a comedian. I hope you enjoyed this instalment. See you on the next one.

[journeytothewestresearch]

What "Bodhisattva" even mean? Are they like a messager or middle man?

They are an enlightened being who foregoes nirvana in order to save countless people from the suffering that keeps man trapped in samsara.

This is the official entry in the Princeton Dictionary of Buddhism (2014):

Bodhisattva (P. bodhisatta; T. byang chub sems dpa’; C. pusa; J. bosatsu; K. posal 菩薩). In Sanskrit, lit. “enlightenment being.” The etymology is uncertain, but the term is typically glossed to mean a “being (SATTVA) intent on achieving enlightenment (BODHI),” viz., a being who has resolved to become a buddha. In the MAINSTREAM BUDDHIST SCHOOLS, the Buddha refers to himself in his many past lifetimes prior to his enlightenment as a bodhisattva; the word is thus generally reserved for the historical Buddha prior to his own enlightenment. In the MAHĀYĀNA traditions, by contrast, a bodhisattva can designate any being who resolves to generate BODHICITTA and follow the vehicle of the bodhisattvas (BODHISATTVAYĀNA) toward the achievement of buddhahood. The Mahāyāna denotation of the term first appears in the AS˙ T˙ ASĀHASRIKĀPRAJÑĀPĀRAMITĀ, considered one of the earliest Mahāyāna sūtras, suggesting that it was already in use in this sense by at least the first century BCE. Schools differ on the precise length and constituent stages of the bodhisattva path (MĀRGA), but generally agree that it encompasses a huge number of lifetimes—according to many presentations, three incalculable eons of time (ASAM˙ KHYEYAKALPA)—during which the bodhisattva develops specific virtues known as perfections (PĀRAMITĀ) and proceeds through a series of stages (BHŪMI). Although all traditions agree that the bodhisattva is motivated by “great compassion” (MAHĀKARUN˙ Ā) to achieve buddhahood as quickly as possible, Western literature often describes the bodhisattva as someone who postpones his enlightenment in order to save all beings from suffering. This description is primarily relevant to the mainstream schools, where an adherent is said to recognize his ability to achieve the enlightenment of an ARHAT more quickly by following the teachings of a buddha, but chooses instead to become a bodhisattva; by choosing this longer course, he perfects himself over many lifetimes in order to achieve the superior enlightenment of a buddha at a point in the far-distant future when the teachings of the preceding buddha have completely disappeared. In the Mahāyāna, the nirvān˙ a of the arhat is disparaged and is regarded as far inferior to buddhahood. Thus, the bodhisattva postpones nothing, instead striving to achieve buddhahood as quickly as possible. In both the mainstream and Mahāyana traditions, the bodhisattva, spending his penultimate lifetime in the TUS˙ ITA heaven, takes his final rebirth in order to become a buddha and restore the dharma to the world. MAITREYA is the bodhisattva who will succeed the dispensation (ŚĀSANA) of the current buddha, GAUTAMA or ŚĀKYAMUNI; he is said to be waiting in the tus˙ ita heaven, until the conditions are right for him to take his final rebirth and become the next buddha in the lineage. In the Mahāyāna tradition, many bodhisattvas are described as having powers that rival or even surpass those of the buddhas themselves, and come to symbolize specific spiritual qualities, such as AVALOKITEŚVARA (the bodhisattva of compassion), MAÑJUŚRĪ (the bodhisattva of wisdom), VAJRAPĀN˙ I (the bodhisattva of power), and SAMANTABHADRA (the bodhisattva of extensive practice). In Western literature, these figures are sometimes referred to as “celestial bodhisattvas.” In Korea, the term posal also designates laywomen residents of monasteries, who assist with the menial chores of cooking, preserving food, doing laundry, etc. These posal are often widows or divorcées, who work for the monastery in exchange for room and board for themselves and their children. The posal will often serve the monastery permanently and end up retiring there as well (Buswell & Lopez, 2014, p. 134).

Also check out the Wikipedia article:

Source:

Buswell, R. E., & Lopez, D. S. (2014). The Princeton Dictionary of Buddhism. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

[dailycass-cain]

Detective Comics #1079 brings a lot of plot points Ram V has been spinning this arc to a head, including the one involving Cass. So here are my thoughts on the penultimate issue.

There's just a fondness I have for this series as THE Batman comic right now. It has an aura of late 90s to early 00s Batman comics spun in a modern angle.

I feel quite at home with this run.

All the protagonists are given their due here. No one is cut short, and we get teased with more entries (because Ram V did say EVERYONE would get their moment and three characters have been quiet until this issue) as the arc reaches its final crossing.

There are a lot of emotional bits here from Lian/Jade's stuff (which feels like we're getting to the final bits for them sadly, which I hope we don't) to the badassery of Azrael (gawd I want more of him in this run).

Then there's Cass's section with Freeze.

It makes complete sense that with Selina's plan in full effect if you haven't figured it out now, that Cass's part was a distraction and an attempt. To get the Orgham distracted so Selina could steal her prize.

It just feels so opposite to what's being presented in Batman and Catwoman comics along with the whole Gotham War debacle, and how rewarding this run is to seeds to prior Ram V runs (Catwoman) and this one.

This is an event done right, with stakes presented as high, villains who are quite imposing, and an emotional rollercoaster ride.

It's said in panels what the Reality Engine does, and we've seen it in action when Bruce tried to stop it. But dammit I SO want to see a story on Cass's struggle against it.

We see it teased in this issue, but a hardened warrior like Cass against this thing? GIMME!

The art here just looks so warped until the predictable occurs. Freeze betrays Cass and Selina's plan. He gets what he wants, and chills out.

Though Selina DID anticipate this, it wasn't her real goal which she does achieve in the issue.

However, I'm curious about what will come with Freeze having access to the Reality Engine and if Cass will have a role in stopping it?

I'm guessing YES.

Though it sort of feels like Cass's role in this arc has come to an end. I mean it feels like it but who knows. That said if it was and this is the final appearance of Cass in 2023.

Dang, I want more Ram V-written Cass goodness, please.

I am curious just how much damage both she and Freeze did as the latter did set off a "freeze bomb" that she escaped from, but there's no telling (until future issues) how the Orgham will recover from this setback.

I'm glad this arc was "bi-weekly". Though, as much kudos I give to the writer, both Jason Shawn Alexander and Liam Sharp deserve so much credit for this arc too. Everything they've drawn in this arc just CLICKS with the writing.

Again, this was another stellar issue, and I can't wait to see where this arc ends. As basically, Selina has won. The question is can she run away with that win or will someone ELSE sneak in? I think the latter might occur.

Look, I know it's highly unlikely but I kind of want a Flamingo vs Cass or Azrael fight. Just two hardened folk going against a foe like Flamingo? Gimme. Let Bruce take on Hurt and finish the Barbatos plot.

Though part of me wonders are Jean Paul and Barbatos linked?

Or even Cass and the Bat Demon?

These just avenues never explored given Jean-Paul did become Batman and is sporting said batty costume in this arc.

This was another fantastic issue on this run and I just wish we'd talk about how AMAZING this series. That and how when this is collected in complete form how KILLER this story will be even more.