#yeah yeah yeah you can be all 'oh they're supposed to be different characters so it doesnt matter actually uwu' but COME ON | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

Text

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.’

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

320 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Silver Lining 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your phone buzzes as your niece bounces dangerously close to the tree. Your sister's in town with her two kids, but neither her or her husband seem to care much about watching them. Somehow, you're tasked with that and unsure what to do about their endless energy. You envy them truly so you just kind of let them go.

You hear your mother and sister chattering in the kitchen, her husband is in the garage with your stepdad, and as always, you're the odd one out. You slide your phone out and check the ID. It's Bucky, technically your new boss. You notice you've missed a few texts from him. Great. Not a good start. You were supposed to tell everyone at dinner about your new gig.

You answer, watching the kids without much thought, play tug of war over a string of tinsel. You should stop them but it'll just snap anyhow. You clear your throat and put your hand to your cheek, feeling the nervousness warm your skin.

"Hello, Mr. B-Barnes," you eke out.

"Bucky, it's fine," he sounds slightly irritated but you don't think you've heard a different tone from him so far, "you're busy?"

"Well, uh, n-not exactly," you shrug, "j-just family s-stuff."

"Family... so you won't be able to go over the script? I just got your edits."

"U-uh, y-yeah, if you want to, I c-can grab my l-laptop," you offer and turn your back to the room.

"I'd prefer it if we could meet. I'm more of a face-to-face person."

"O-old-fashioned," you comment. You regret that he exhales deeply on the other end. "S-sorry, I o-only meant--"

"You're right. I'm old-fashioned. Not a bad thing," he insists, "so, is it too late? Should we find another time?"

"T-tomorrow?"

"I'm going out of town for the weekend," he huffs, "I really want to have this ready to record when I get back."

"R-right," you chew your thumb, a sudden bawling tears through the air as you spin around and find your nephew stuck under the tree. Oh no! "Oh, sh-shoot."

You cover the microphone as you lower the phone. Your sister rushes in, your mother at her heels as they squeal. You watch helpless as she fishes Casey from under the fir branches, "you were supposed to be watching them," she accuses.

"I-I was?"

"Oh, come on, you know, I barely get a minute to myself and you can't just keep an eye on two kids? Ugh, no job and you can't be bothered just to look," she snarls.

They're not your kids. You flutter your lashes as you fight back tears and that smart remark.

"I actually h-have a c-call from m-my new job," you hold out your phone and wiggle it at her, "I d-don't b-babysit f-for free."

She scoffs and your mom tuts as she shakes her head. They don't even care. No congratulations but they can constantly throw your unemployment in your face. You take a breath and roll your eyes.

"S-sorry, I g-got to go," you turn and drag your feet out of the room.

"Well, she didn't say she had a job," your mother mutters as your sister grumbles back, "about time."

You ignore them as you head upstairs. It's better you let your sister bask in her spotlight. You weren't looking forward to dinner anyhow. Not for anything more than the hunger groaning in your stomach. You put the phone back to your ear.

"A-are you there? S-sorry, I g-got distracted."

"Really, if you're busy--"

"N-no, I n-need to get a-away," you say.

You're silent at the confession. You didn't mean to sound so pathetic. You go down the hall to your room and find a sweater.

"Well, uh, how about we meet at the cafe? Middle ground. You like that place?"

"Up t-to you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You need a ride?" He asks, to your surprise.

You pause as you grip the bright pink wool in your hand, "N-no, I'll f-find my way." You swallow and lay the sweater on your bed, "uh, b-bye."

You hang up before he can respond. You're embarrassed. He probably heard all of that and more. And now you've gone and betrayed your stupid self to him. Of all people. He doesn't need to know you're a complete failure. You hate to accept it but you have to; you need him more than he needs you. So maybe you'll just change the damn thesis after all.

🩶

You get to the coffee shop with snow caked on your hat and in the collar of your coat. You shake it off just outside and enter, your cheeks and nose kissed with the cold. As much as you love the winter, it's a bit much. You let out a brrr as you pull of your mitts and tuck them inside your hat. You hear your name and glance over. It's him, he's beat you there.

You tramp over to him as the snow melts off your boots and you wave, setting your bag in the chair as you unbutton your coat.

"Didn't m-mean t-to take too l-long," you say.

"Hot chocolate shouldn't be that cold," he assures you. You wince and look at the table. Sure enough, there's a second cup.

"O-oh, you d-didn't have t-to--"

"It's fine, not a big deal," he shakes his head.

You nod and hang your coat over the back of the chair and tuck away your mittens and hat in the sleeve. You sit and bring your bag into your lap. You flip up the flap and pull out your laptop, chilly from the walk there. You sense him watching you. You leave your computer shut as you lay it out and reach for the hot chocolate. You give it a taste and hum, thanking him.

"Sounds like a rough day," he comments.

"Y-yeah, b-but you d-don't have to w-worry about it," you assure him, glancing around evasively. When is he going to start being mean?

"You got kids?" He asks.

You have to hold in your laughter. "Sister's k-kids," you explain, "n-not for m-me."

"Ah," he accepts and reaches for his coffee, "right. Makes sense."

You keep your eyes down. You don't want to get too personal. Feels like he's just being polite, likely because he feels bad for you, not about his previous behavior.

"Don't got any either," he leans forward, his thick fingers hugging his cup, "so, your new draft was... great."

"R-really?" You lift your gaze meekly.

"Yeah, yeah, I just have a few notes," he sits back to bend down to the bag at his feet, "thanks for coming so last minute.”

You open your laptop, trying not to show any emotion. It's kind of him but you just don't believe it's anything other than pity.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabbles #series #silver lining #silverfox #au #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #avengers

208 notes · View notes

captaindibbzy · 2 years

Text

In relation to the Baymax thing, and also Turning Red, I think a lot of people have missed out on how fucking funny periods are.

Every time I turn on a comedy show I have to hear about some dudes dick. During school people drew dicks on everything. Even in family friendly shows there's hints towards inappropriate contexts. There's jokes about boys hitting puberty and their voice dropping through the floor and how teenagers are emotional wrecks and sleepy and rebellious and it's customary to make fun of teenagers.

Kids are joking about poop and piss. Adults are joking about poop and piss. Wet dreams are not off topic for boys. Inappropriate boners. Everybody smells.

There's entire episodes dedicated to cartoon characters (usually boys) turning 13 and deciding that they are an adult now and they must partake in adult things and forgo all the baby stuff they liked when they were a child (yesterday).

Now take the period. You're somewhere between 8 and 13. How much you have previously been warned about this largely depends on geography and culture.

My mum thought she was dying when she had her first period. Full blown meltdown. And then her mum was like "oh yeah that just happens." Just????? It's so stupid???? It just happens?!?!?!

The utter indignation of reaching an age where people deem it appropriate for you to learn about your own body, sometimes when the change has already started, and be told that every woman in your life from birth to now has been lying to you for a week every month. Your mother. Your aunt's. Your neighbours. Your teachers. All those women on TV. Everyone. They're all walking around with this thing and fucking nobody told you because it's inappropriate. They are bleeding out their yahoo and for some reason this is more inappropriate than poop and bogies and ear wax and piss and sometimes more inappropriate than sex. You've 100% seen blood before.

And now you are a woman! Suprise!!!! But oh no we can't let the men know. Why? Well they might be embarrassed. These are the same men that have been teasing you your whole life about being a girl and thus you must faint at the sight of blood and be weak and you can't lift and they are so much stronger. You're so delicate. Oh don't let your dad know when it's happening. It will be so awkward for him. Your brother's, who may be older than you, can't at all know! In some cultures men don't know this is happening till they are married.

"I woke up this morning and there's blood pouring out a hole I may or may not have known was even there and I feel like crap and now I'm supposed to be a woman not a child but we can't let the men fully know what's going on because they might faint or some shit from the shock and also every woman in my life has been lying to me all my life."

"Yes."

"How long does this go on?"

"Well... About 50 years."

"50 YEARS?!?!"

"And then your body goes through reverse puberty and stops functioning correctly."

Side note. Came back from summer holidays in to my last year of primary school and one girl and developed boobs over the holiday and suddenly all the boys had to get changed in a different room. It was to "get us ready" for secondary school. Except we didn't have a seporate room so boys had to get changed in the cloak room for PE.

And then, and then, you go pad shopping.

There's so many pads, so much choice, so much shit. Do you want to cram some cotton up there? Do you think you need a pad thick enough to be a nappy? There's pads specifically designed to sit on thongs. Some are long some have wings some are scented for some reason?!? Or you can get reusable ones or moon cups. And it's expensive!!! How would you like to proceed with the worst day of your life so far? How many are you going to need? Who knows! Nobody's certainly given you any indication in your entire life!

Also it affects your appetite. But you're a teenage girl and society has very strict ideas about how much is appropriate for you to eat and what you are supposed to eat.

Oh and your face breaks out in spots cause hormones are happening.

And you will get it wrong at some point and wreck your favourite cute knickers and bedding and pajamas. The fucking mortification of going to the bathroom at school and discovering your knickers are demolished. A pad will not help you now. You are miles from home. It's like shitting yourself but you have fucking less control over it.

Kids be out there singing "Uncle Billy and his ten foot willy" but if they know Sarah is on her period the world will end.

And this isn't even touching on the fact that in some cultures the reward for this is now you get to partake in the women's jobs. You are an adult now. Here is a pile of vegetables. No your brother's still get to play on the X-box. Yes they are older than you but they are boys and now you are a woman. Peel those potatoes.

This entire situation is ridiculous. Like utterly fucking hilarious how everyone is tiptoeing around this thing. I've never seen a period joke that wasn't funny.

#moon time

4K notes · View notes

esamastation · 7 months

Text

Shizuroth, part twenty-one

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty

For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, Sephiroth sends out a text message.

After an evening and night spent meditating, reading and cultivating, figuring out the ins and outs of his hardened meridian system and going through the files Genesis had had delivered to him, Sephiroth's come to the conclusion that meditation isn't enough. He needs to condition his body properly, and that means forms, that means movements - that means he really misses easy access to all the collected cultivation manuals of Qing Jing Peak's impressive libraries.

Ultimately what it really means is that he needs more space than his single room apartment has.

"If we're banned from the training room, where can I go train?"

"Goddess beyond, Sephiroth, it's supposed to be your day off," Genesis replies and then, soon after, "Just go to the training room. Who could stop you?"

He's really not sure about training in front of people. "Is that really the only option?"

"Well, you could do what you always do and just take a mission."

Mission, like the dozen or so on his phone involving Wutai? Which had a lot of kill everyone and exterminate the opposition and leave no one alive!?

Yeah, okay. Training room it is, then!

After carefully selecting an outfit that would look reasonably in character for the future Big Bad while also being a bit more comfortable than three different things of leather. And he still pulls on the, now slightly better fitting, leather coat with its huge shoulder guards, too! He should look… more or less in character.

People still stare as he makes his way through floor 49, other SOLDIERs in their much more comfortable looking uniforms and not so comfortable looking helmets. There's a handful of them hanging around, sitting by the window or chatting, SOLDIER Seconds and Thirds waiting for assignments. There are some people in lab coats hanging around there too, just as a reminder of the true nature of the program.

Sephiroth had read about that too - everything Genesis had sent him about SOLDIER and the things he is supposed to already know.

SOLDIER, as much as they are the elite warriors of Shinra, their OP human weapons in the war to conquer the planet… are also lab rats. They'd all signed up on it in order to get those enhancements, and now Shinra's Science Department can do… just about whatever they want with them!

They're constantly being tested for performance and given experimental training, treatments and gear to test out. Almost all Materia and medicine Shinra produces goes through SOLDIER field testing before going into mass production. Because it's better that it's a SOLDIER dealing with the fallout if the Materia blows up in his face or the medicine makes him projectile vomit. They can handle it!

Ah, corporate dystopia with minimal human rights. Fun stuff.

Sephiroth walks past them all, barely acknowledging them, and aims for the training room. Which… really seems more like a testing ground, now that there's actual personnel there.

There's no one in the training room itself - but there are two technicians in the observatory adjacent.

"S-Sephiroth!" a lab technician stutters as he enters - the only way into the training room goes through the observatory, past all the monitoring equipment and computers. "What can we do for you?"

"I want to train," Sephiroth says in his best villain drawl, motioning to the training room with Masamune.

"Ah, that's - director Deusericus told us -"

Sephiroth narrows his eyes. "Oh, so I can't?"

The second lab tech elbows the first out of the way. "Of course you can, of course! Professor Hojo would be thrilled to have your training data," he assures, though the words are clearly aimed, very pointedly, at the other tech. "What kind of program settings would you like? We have a selection of new enemy AI and different environments - including numerous Wutai-inspired sequences!"

Sephiroth hesitates. That… could be interesting, actually. "Something from Wutai, with buildings - no enemies." That might give him a sense of what Wutai was like, culture-wise.

"... How are you going to train without enemies?"

Do SOLDIER not do forms? "Hmph," Sephiroth answers and turns to the training room, waving the electronic sliding door open. "Just start the simulation."

Seems like he got his villainous demanding attitude right, because they do. Seems like short and to the point is really the best way to hide a supposed amnesia!

Soon Sephiroth finds himself standing in a courtyard of what looks vaguely like some noble family's estate, feeling strangely like he's in a dream where everything is just a little bit off.

The simulation is… well, it kind of feels like a weird amusement park version of Asia, a mix of Japanese and Chinese aesthetics. The buildings have Japanese architecture for the most part, with bare unpainted wood and stone - but the roofs are all elaborate hip roofs. The written language, what little he can see of it, is in Mandarin, but the calligraphy style is very Japanese, very lyrical and artistic but without much form.

There's no bamboo in sight. Shame.

But at least the false environment makes it feel a little less like he's being watched - though he can still tell he is. Even with Sephiroth's burnt spiritual veins, he has pretty good senses.

Well, it's not like he hasn't trained with an audience before.

Unsheathing Masamune, Sephiroth holds the sheath in his off hand and takes a pose, breathing deeply in and concentrating. He still can't quite circulate his Qi, but he can sort it… flash it through himself in pulses, which lights up his meridian system and brings out the faults and snags therein.

Sephiroth is strong, hardy, seemingly endlessly durable. He's also fast, his overactive muscles easily going past the limitations of your usual normal human conditions. The issue is not quite his overall flexibility - but his… suppleness, maybe?

You need your veins to flex and contract for healthy circulation, and that's the same with energy. Thanks to the Mako treatments and the emphasis on stamina and strength, Sephiroth's whole system is just… hard. Every part of him is hardened to endure who knows what, and it gives his meridian system very little give.

So that's what his form needs to focus on, increasing his meridian system's pliancy.

All the while wondering if all SOLDIERs were working with these kinds of toughened meridians, Sephiroth pulses his energy and begins to move. Qing Jing Peak sword forms work well enough for him, it turns out - as spiritual cultivators, they also have to maintain certain spiritual flexibility, after all. He needs to adjust the forms to the sword he has, but that's not too difficult. A lot of spiritual swordsmen use sword glares to extend the shape and size of their cutting edge, so the forms already have some wiggle room.

Soon Sephiroth has a set of moves that work the best, making his pulses of energy work better and better, until his whole meridian system buzzes, active and alive. He can even feel the beginnings of activity in his frankly neglected dantians, as energy wooshes through him in waves. It feels… pretty great.

What he doesn't know is that on the outside it looks rather like Sephiroth just activated a Limit Break - by will alone.

Someone making waves, hehe

#Fanfiction #svsss #ff7 #ffvii #Sephiroth #Shen Qingqiu #Shen Yuan

321 notes · View notes

mauesartetc · 9 months

Note

Is it me, or is Vivziepop bad at writing romantic relationships? It feels like she wants to write "problematic", drama-filled romance where the characters start out toxic, there are misunderstandings, betrayals etc cuz the show is supposed to be about "problematic gays", and that's perfectly valid, but she can't write chemistry. So far, it feels like Blitzo clings to Stolas because he's afraid he will end up alone and unloved, but doesn't actually care for him as a person. He often looks uncomfortable with Stolas' flirting even if he reciprocates sometimes.

I've seen couples in children's media with much better written-relationships and chemistry, like Roxanne and Megamind. It's clear they enjoy each other's company, they have mutual banter and flirting and he respects her intelligence.

I know Stolitz is supposed to be "toxic" pre-character development but at this point it still sucks that so far, it's impossible to tell what the characters like about each other other than the sex.

(I've been told that Stolas enjoys how Blitzo made him laugh when they met during the circus but that's not been developed enough as a concept to count).

Yeah here's a thought: When has he made Stolas laugh during adulthood?! Where was that moment? What do they even have in common other than liking dudes?

Oh shit. I think I get why fans of this show accuse critics of being homophobic. It's because this relationship has literally no substance other than "they're gay". (Or Stolas might be, anyway. Their specific orientations are never clarified in the show that I can recall.) Oh, you don't like this mlm relationship? You must hate ALL mlm relationships. Funny how the fans are the ones fixated on that aspect while no one I've seen criticize the show has ever cited the homoerotica as evidence that this relationship sucks. No, it sucks because there's absolutely no depth to it. There's nothing to make us root for it to work.

Sure, the characters have their own personalities as individuals, and there's potential for chemistry in how those personalities and backgrounds oppose each other, but the show never explores it. What would happen if Stolas tried to fit into Blitzo's poverty-stricken school of hard knocks, or if Blitzo tried to fit in with high society? What if they just had a conversation about what life has been like for each of them? Where are the bonding moments that show us this is more than just a transactional arrangement (or at least that it could be)? What made Stolas suddenly fall in love with Blitzo offscreen between Episodes 6 and 7, after treating him like an object the entire season? Why the fuck does he care if Blitzo comes to see him in the hospital or not? Why should we care as viewers?

Funny enough, this neat video by LocalScriptMan just came out (check out this channel, seriously), and it talks about going deeper into writing relationships than just smashing two characters with differing personalities together. Again, differing personalities can create potential for chemistry (as each character learns new perspectives from the other), but a pairing of opposites isn't chemistry in and of itself.

If Helluva Boss's writers gave us a good mlm relationship with actual substance, more power to 'em! Maybe we'll get one with Asmodeus and Fizzarolli, but... ehh. It's doubtful at this point.

#helluva boss #helluva critical #writing #anti stolitz #romantic chemistry #relationships #shipping #ask #chinesegal

228 notes · View notes

neko-loogi · 5 months

Text

Alright, I'mma give my opinion again. This time with Hazbin Hotel..

So I saw the trailer for Hazbin Hotel a few days ago and honestly, I am so disappointed. Like, you're telling me I waited years for them to release a trailer for the series, and this is all we get??

I'm not saying it wasn't enough, no, on the contrary, I think they revealed way too much. But what I mean is, I was expecting something else, because this ain't it, chief.

***

Alright so first off, we have the voices. I'mma be hella honest with y'all, this shit sounds unfinished, as in, it sounds like Viv got confused and published the behind the scenes instead of the finished product because omfg, the voices sound bad.

I genuinely don't understand the weird obsession Viv has with hiring celebrities or broadway actors into her shitty shows, it's not like she's rich enough to afford that- plus she does this often, doesn't that mean it affects the budget of the show? (I don't know much about that stuff so bear with me).

It's funny cuz, she hires these super famous celebrities to voice characters in her shows, but she doesn't need to, like, you can be a professional, but that doesn't necessarily mean you're a great VA. It almost feels like she does that because she wants to feel important, she wants to show off like "Oh look at me, I have celebrities voicing my characters! Aren't I cool?"

But anyway, going back to the voices, I have to say this, my least favorite are Alastor and Angel Dust. I just think it's absolutely ridiculous that Viv got rid of the pilot VAs just to replace them with broadway actors, only for them to make the characters sound flat and emotionless.

Like, it's funny because she makes these broadway actors imitate the voices from the pilot, however it doesn't come naturally for these actors and it shows. It almost feels like they have no idea what they're doing. It legit sounds like they're reading the script but not putting any effort into it. (Y'know how people shit on anime dubs because they don't sound good or whatever? That's exactly how I feel about this-).

The next thing I wanna talk about is the animation. Don't get me wrong from what I've seen, in some moments the animation looks alright, but other times it looks choppy as hell. I thought this show was supposed to be more 'professional' since they literally got A24 and Bento Box ent. for this. But yeah, all I can say is, the animation hasn't changed at all, the only thing that is slightly different is the art style but aside from that, the animation still sucks.

And finally, the last thing I wanted to discuss is the plot of the series. So as we all know, in the Pilot, it was established that Charlie (along with Vaggie) opened the Happy Hotel in hopes of redeeming sinners so that they can go to heaven because Hell was too overpopulated (plus the whole extermination thing). But the whole point of the plot was that she wasn't entirely sure she could actually do it or if it was even possible, and that's what made the plot more interesting back then. But here? It's absolute garbage. Not only did the trailer basically reveal way too much information already (before the series could even come out yet), but the plot was changed entirely!

Like I mentioned, Charlie's motives were to redeem sinners, but here she's more focused on having some kind of war with heaven/the angels. And that's the thing, now that we know that heaven is a thing in this series, plus the inclusion of Adam, it just makes the series feel so predictable, because now we know that the sinners can be redeemed, which beats the entire purpose of the show. It's like, "Hell bad, but heaven is worse" and "Good VS. Bad!!", cliche type of thing. You think a series 'made for adults' would have a more interesting plot than a kids show, but nah, we get these basic ass levels of writing. I swear a fucking five year old could come up with something better and far more creative than this nonsense-

***

So yeah, I'm honestly hella disappointed that this is what the series has turned into. I had high hopes for Hazbin Hotel (since Helluva ain't shit-), but nope, it turns out, Viv is capable of making herself look even more stupid by completely butchering her own series. Hell, I actually have Amazon Prime, but I am probably not even gonna watch this shit, I'll just wait till some dumbass on YouTube uploads the first episode or something stupid like that (so that I can watch it and critique it later). Because I know that someone definitely will.

Anyway, that's all for today, thank you for reading my dumb post- alright bye!

#anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #spindlehorse criticism #spindlehorse critical #///#by neko loogi #do not repost #neko loogi rambles 😬#neko loogi rants😔

106 notes · View notes

jade-len · 4 months

Text

bad svsss fanfic/au idea, pt. 2: random svsss anti-fan (or hater) transmigrates into svsss after tweeting "stupid author, stupid novels" and proceeds to solve 90% of the novel's conflicts out of pure spite by pretending to be a seer.

"luo binghe will not kill you, shen qingqiu. just trust me when i say that."

"please listen to me when i say this, luo binghe. focus on yourself for a bit. learn to love yourself too. yes i know you're hopelessly in love but you shouldn't just rely on his affection to hold up your emotional wellbeing, okay??"

"oh yeah no. the huan hua palace's sect leader is a pervert who preyed on su xiyan, which led to a bunch of conflict and misunderstanding and now he's kinda gotten away with it." *proceeds to explain the whole lore of it* "see you later, yue qingyuan!"

"zhuzhi-lang, i have very important advice, okay. just because you love someone and believe something is best for them, you should not force them to do it. by the way, can i see your uncle real quick?"

"yeah. uhm. it was all old palace master's fault. go fuck him up, tianlang-jun. just don't kill anyone else in the process. also uh, read better romance novels please."

"gongyi xiao, if immortal master shen qingqiu and shang qinghua ever ask you to look around for some special mushrooms, run right after you help them navigate huan hua palace. like leave the damn place. you will meet your fate if you stay here. ok cool bye."

"mu qingfang please introduce this thing called 'therapy' and 'counseling'. i promise you it will reduce qi deviations by 50%."

"mobei-jun... don't. don't beat shang qinghua up. look i know it's demon culture but maybe try to also learn some human courtesy too?"

"liu qingge. one day you will find someone who will have the same amount of devotion for you as you will for them. and you are an amazing person for it ok."

at some point they probably explain to sqq and sqh that they've transmigrated into a story that's about sqq transmigrating into PIDW, which is also a story.

there can be three routes to this:

1. there is no hurt. binghe's heartbreak points doesn't even exist. everyone is cool and there are no deaths. also tianlang-jun tortures and kill OPM, so there's that. maybe some romance or whatevs happens but it's all good.

2. while they stopped 90% of the original conflict, they proceed to accidentally create some more by simply being there. the system declares that they're the "new main character" for the audience, just like how sqq is with svsss. now, new and different plot points start happening to them instead of shen qingqiu! how will they use their knowledge now, with things they can't predict?

2. mid-way, they accidentally put a huge target on their back. unintentionally, they're going against the system's wishes and the whole point of the novel: uncover the hidden plot of PIDW. they're like a virus, a bug, something that isn't supposed to be there, but is. they don't have a system, they exist beyond that; so they can't just be sent back. they're accidentally ruining the story of svsss by not having any of the conflicts mxtx created to occur, and thus must be stopped before they completely flip everything over.

the new mission given by the system for sqq and sqh? [URGENT: stomp the bug, no matter what!]

#woah it got like. real meta at the end #svsss ideas #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #liu qingge #tianlang jun #shang qinghua #zhuzhi lang #yue qingyuan #gongyi xiao #mobei jun #su xiyan #svsss #mxtx svsss #the scum villain's self saving system

141 notes · View notes

shokolandish · 2 months

Text

edit: i made a new charlie design and a post-finale vanessa design!

---

viv is not a good person and i don't support her, but ive got a hyperfixation right now and im gonna make that everybody else's problem

besides, separate art from the artist or whatever

hazbin has a shit ton of mistakes, problems, same body and hell, even same clothes syndrome. does hell only have one shop or something???

but i just kiiiinda enjoy (?) it for what it is

and ive seen a lot of people do redesigns and that seems really fun and honestly, the characters have a lot of potential that's just blatantly ignored by the show

aaaanyways, after all that out of the way, i present to you...

finished refs for two of my redesigns for the cast!!! did the main couple first, naturally

soo, here's charlie

age: about 22 in human years

and vanessa!

age: about 25 years old. not sure if angels age differently but that's her age in human years

some notes under the cut

Charlie

- yep, i made her non-binary. just get a lot of non-binary energy from xer. besides, i like the hc of them preferring the name charlie over charlotte because it sounds more gender-neutral

- i like to imagine xer a bit on the bigger side complexion-wise. like, i don't know if you could call her chubby but she is a bit plump and really soft to the touch not only because of the fur. i feel like being soft and having more soft edges in buns design would fit buns character more

- she's not freakishly tall anymore!!!! like.. i don't mind her being tall because she's the princess of hell after all.. also have you seen how tall lilith is???? but i feel like sometimes it's TOO much... also honestly it also just fits them more imo??

- they're a redhead now. I MEAN LIKE. both lucifer and lilith were described with red hair in old paintings.. i just had to.

Vanessa

- yeah yeah i made her a demigirl... her original color palette just screamed demigirl. like. it was literally the demigirl flag color palette.

- i thought of naming her violet but that'd be a little too on the nose i think- gave her actual hips!! and not whatever was going on in her original design (the waist just going straight into the legs)

- also made her a little more.. (uh i guess the appropriate word is "thicc") overall- yeah i also redesigned the angelic spear a bit. not too proud of it but i think it gets the idea across

- i don't usually.. draw noses, but i figured it was a pretty big/most recognizable part of her design so i gave her one.

- oh yeah btw she's not gray anymore!!!! yippee!!!!! like what's even up with viv and making poc characters gray. anyways since she's a fallen angel i figured giving her a more human appearance would make sense. we've seen winners in heaven and a lot of them look pretty human. even if we only look at exorcists, lute looks pretty human too.

writing notes

okay, so, i wanna give you some notes about the writing, but before i do - i am NOT a professional writer, im just a kid who has some criticism for the hellfire of a show hazbin is

with that out of the way...

chaggie's writing

okay so. chaggie am i right.

so, ill just get this out of the way - it's boring

like, really boring

chaggie defenders will say they're just "casual" and im an asshole for wanting more from them but you can be casual and not be FUCKING BORING

like.. all of their interactions just go the same waythey comfort each other or hold hands or vaggie is trying to convince charlie to do something and she NEVER. FUCKING. LISTENS. like seriously.

the only time she actually listened was when vaggie convinced her to be more assertive but she was trying to do it anyway... and she changed vaggie's words and did her own thing anyways

they don't even have that much chemistry. and they're like, the main couple. they're supposed to have chemistry.

hell, emily and charlie had more chemistry in one episode they interacted in than vaggie and charlie in the whole damn show

vaggie's writing

vaggie's writing.. it's... sigh.

she doesn't really feel like a separate character when she's with charlie

they're just. doing the same thing. over and over again. all of their interactions are the fucking same. like.. i wanna care but i just have no reason to. i just DON'T FUCKING CARE.

even vaggie's whole deal in "whatever it takes" is her just?? dedicating her life to being charlie's partner?? and not even being her own person and living for herself??? like. what's up with that. maybe i just didn't pay enough attention??? i can't be bothered to rewatch any chaggie scenes in episode 2 because they did not deserve that drama and i just don't care enough

im supposed to care but i don't

the show just. doesn't give me any reason to care.

vaggie interacting with ANY other character is so much more interesting - i don't know what to expect, i can't predict it!

vaggie interacting with alastor? hell yeah! we never know alastor's intentions and seeing vaggie not taking any of his shit is really entertaining!

vaggie interacting with angel dust? sure! id love to hear the bickering or maybe them having to put up being alone with each other for an episode? maybe both of them having to put up with charlie's shenanigans and bonding over that?

vaggie interacting with niffty? okay sure! a lil gremlin and an involuntary caretaker maybe with vaggie seeing niffty can take care of herself? or vaggie trying to put up with her insanity?

vaggie interacting with husk? oh hell yeah, they both seem to be the straight man in any situation (despite neither of them being straight but whatever), maybe they can have a drink or two together.

vaggie interacting with pentious? yes please! she'd not take any of his shit, but honestly? pentious' obliviousness with vaggie's seriousness could be a very fun dynamic!

but charlie? yeah i can just. predict any interaction they'll have.

and that's not really a good thing with the main couple

because it just gets old really quickly

and we see them all the time, so after some time they can just start to irritate people

how would i fix it?

MAKE THEM INTERESTING, DAMN IT

maybe make charlie listen to vaggie more often??

or maybe vaggie getting a bit irritated because charlie doesn't take her advice seriously

or maybe actually show us how they fell in love?? not just love at first sight or whatever they had in the flashback

like, id love to see actual chemistry develop!or maybe make their interactions not as predictable??

or maybe actually show us how they work together

have an episode dedicated to them

that's the problem with trying to fit everything into one season - the character and relationship developments can end up rushed and just. not very good.

like.. the season we got could be easily stretched out into two or three, WHERE ARE YOU GOING SO FAST, SHOW?? why so fast

this show doesn't know about the existence of filler episodes and we NEED filler episodes

to actually get to know the characters, to explore dynamics, to get to know the world around them

the season is just way too short to tell the story it's trying to say

and if i didn't care about a character from the start and the show doesn't let me meet them... im not gonna just start caring.

---

anyways, that's about it! im definitely gonna do more, i even have angel and pentious ready:) niffty, husk, alastor, emily or adam are next after them, i already have them sketched out

idk what order im gonna post them in but we'll see i guess

---

bonus:

some concepts

57 notes · View notes

themushroomgoesyeet · 4 months

Text

For the first installment of this series, let's start with something easy!

Arcana characters as Disney princesses/princes

Julian - Flynn Rider/Eugene

These two are so similar istg

Dashing, dramatic, swashbuckling rogues with dry humor and a secret, insecure soft side?

The only difference between them is one is ginger with an eye patch and the other isn't

Honestly Eugene would probably be a good pick for a voice hc tbh

Oh hey they're both orphans with big brother vibes too look at that

Asra - Elsa

White hair? Check. Water-related magic? Check. orphans? Check. Unconditional fashion style that doesn't really match everyone else but still looks drop-dead gorgeous regardless? Check

Both of them also have familial abandonment issues and feel the need to isolate themselves from the people they love instead of confronting the problem smh

I will admit their romantic interests are a bit different, with Asra being bisexual and Elsa either being a lesbian or aro/ace at best

Both of them have also been described to have seductive singing voices 👀

Nadia - Princess Jasmine

We👏stan👏 headstrong 👏 independent 👏 middle eastern- inspired👏queens👏here👏

Ngl Jasmine is one of my favorite Disney princesses & she & Nadia would definitely hit it off

Both feel stuck in their respective lives while also wanting to rule, and try to take action for themselves whenever they can

Also both of them would look absolutely stunning in an outfit swap

Muriel - Hercules

Honey you mean HUNK-ules

I know Hercules isn't technically a Disney prince but he fits Muriel too well

Big and strong but shy and genuine at heart? Hell yeah

Their reactions to fame are a little bit different but they are the same when it comes to falling in love; both are so gentle and genuinely caring, and can't stop gushing about their partner

Also amazing idols for how men are supposed to treat women - a.k.a with respect

Both have a heathy amount of respect for their partners modesty (even when said partner is trying to seduce them on purpose), as well as their partners autonomy to make their own decisions

Not to mention they both have estranged families that they didn't know about, and a supportive animal companion

Portia - Rapunzel

I know some of you might be thinking "why not Merida? They look so alike with their frizzy mop of ginger hair!" Well, dear chat, let me explain

While they may look similar, Portia and Merida do not act similar. Merida is rebellious, headstrong, and airheaded, fighting her loved ones on everything and doing what she wants regardless of the consequences until said consequences come back to bite her in the butt. Portia on the other hand, while also headstrong, is spunky, kind, and takes others feelings and opinions into account instead of doing the first daring thing that comes into her head

Which brings me to Rapunzel. Admittedly, Rapunzel is a lot more sheltered and inexperienced about the world than Portia was but they are still kindred spirits. Curious, spunky, headstrong, kind, compassionate, and unafraid to fight for themselves.

They're ready to take on the world even if they don't know enough about it

Both also have evil and manipulative family members (ik Mother Gothel isn't Rapunzel's family; she was still the one who raised Rapunzel & Rapunzel considered her family long enough for it to count in this situation)

Both also meet love interests who guide them through the part of the world that's unknown to them, be it magic for Portia or the world as a whole for Rapunzel

Lucio - Merida

remember all those traits I listed for Merida? Yeah Lucio fits those

Merida and Lucio may be hella good warriors, but boy are they stupid sometimes

Both also have mommy issues™

Both are also wildly inexperienced with magic and should really be more cautious about it

Both just go "oopsies" and expect everything to be fine because of their status when it's never fine

Can you tell yet that these two bother me lol

Both were brought up in a Scottish-sounding culture and you can't change my mind

#the arcana #the arcana game #arcana #count lucio #muriel of the kokhuri #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #julian devorak #asra alnazar #the arcana as _

80 notes · View notes

doodlejoltik · 19 days

Text

the unwinnable game

[~2.7k words. Read it here or on Ao3]

Zugzwang (from German 'compulsion to move'; pronounced [ˈtsuːktsvaŋ]) is a situation found in chess and other turn-based games wherein one player is put at a disadvantage because of their obligation to make a move.

Centuries after their battle atop Mt Coronet, Rei confronts Volo in a nondescript forest, somewhere on Pasio. But the answers he's seeking aren't so easily given.

aka. a continuation of that one dialogue cliffhanger in the Mysterious Stones chapter because I'm extremely normal about these two

///

“There's something you'd like to say, isn't there… Rei?”

Volo turns around and Rei musters up the bravest expression he can.

Now that he's here, he doesn't know what to say first; all his planned questions bounce around his head, clamouring for dominance. Why are you here? How? Since when? You have a Togepi and a Togekiss? Why a tournament? What do you know about the mysterious stones?

Were we ever really friends?

That is, it takes an embarrassingly long time for Rei to respond. In the end, what he says isn’t a question at all. “That Togepi in the ruins was yours.”

Volo only shrugs. He's got a languid smile on his face. “It might've been. She likes running around.”

Internally, Rei is relieved. So he hasn't been seeing things. But he doesn't let it show on his face, and crosses his arms. “Why’d you hide from everyone for months, and only show yourself now?”

“Now, I wouldn't call it hiding,” Volo replies, waving his finger. “This is a big island, and I've made a good few acquaintances here on Pasio already! Perhaps our paths simply didn't cross.”

With the number of times Rei has visited the ruins for mysterious stone research, the odds of that are vanishingly unlikely. “But why didn't you even try? It's not like I've been keeping a low profile.” Of course, the reason is probably something like I tried to end the world and it would be awkward. And that's what Rei needs Volo to say.

The Arc Phone sits heavily in his belt satchel, recording every word.

“Oh, I was just preoccupied. The ruins here are simply fascinating! Even though they're replicas, teasing apart all the ancient cultures used in their construction is such a fruitful area of study. You know me.”

Yeah, I know you. “Find anything interesting about Arceus?” Rei snarks.

“Not particularly!” Volo shakes his head, looking disappointed. Then he perks up, and continues, “Now, Dialga and Giratina however…”

“Oh?” Rei seethes quietly. Of course he had been watching. Why hadn't Giratina said anything?

“It’s curious, isn’t it, how they have seen fit to partner themselves with new wielders?” Volo smiles. “And Palkia too, I’ve heard.”

“It is interesting,” Rei forces out, adjusting his scarf. He recalls Volo's last parting line about Arceus, all those months ago. “Nice to know that they've bonded willingly with people in this time,” he says pointedly.

Ignoring Rei's tone, Volo continues, “That man, Cyrus, who controls Palkia. What a character, wouldn't you say?”

Rei has a lot of thoughts about the Sinnohans’ decision to allow Cyrus - a man who has literally tried to remake the world and not disavowed said goal - to keep the embodiment of Space with him. He'd thought Adaman and Irida had to be joking, at first. What would the Captain think if she saw what her descendant had turned the Galaxy Team into…

“I suppose you see yourself in him.” Rei says flatly.

It's only the two of them here, in the middle of a forest, in the dead of night, so Volo should have no reason to be evasive. And yet -

“Hardly,” Volo laughs off. “Intellectual curiosity, nothing more.”

This is going nowhere. Does Volo seriously think he can fool him again? Probably not - every remark is undoubtedly purposeful, but with just enough plausible deniability to appear innocent. So maybe he just wants to mess with him. Great.

A different strategy, maybe. He’ll surely make a mistake at some point if Rei keeps pushing. “This… tournament that you proposed,” Rei says. “I suppose you're participating?”

“Naturally!” Volo says cheerfully. “Battles on Pasio are done in teams, are they not? Perhaps you'd like to-”

“No.” Rei glares at him. Oh, now, that was going too far. Going to shut that line of conversation immediately.

“So hostile,” Volo sighs. “A united Hisuian contingent would've been a sight to see. Well, the clan leaders should be more receptive, at least.”

“Not if I can help it,” Rei says, crossing his arms. He’s well aware of how childish it sounds, but the thought of his friends falling for Volo’s innocent merchant act, again, is too horrible to consider. Mentally, he rapidly revises his priorities - he has to meet with Adaman and Irida as soon as possible and explain everything. Tomorrow, ideally. Does he have the energy for that? It’s something like one in the morning, right now. He's dead on his feet. But he’ll make it happen. He has to, before Volo does.

But what if he’s already too late? When had Rei last spoken to them? The dance competition, that wasn’t that long ago, right? At least a week, maybe more, his mind supplies. He'd just been so busy… and surely they would have told him if they'd met Volo.

This little anxious spiral must be evident on Rei’s face somehow, because Volo chuckles, stepping closer. “The world doesn't revolve around you, Rei. Not here.”

“You don’t get to act all high and mighty,” Rei snaps. “Not when you’re pulling everyone along on your own strings. I suppose you think you make the world go ‘round.”

But Volo has a point, no matter how much he hates to admit it. Rei’s been assuming he was someone significant to this whole saga. The appearance of the mysterious stones coincided with his and Akari’s arrival to Pasio, after all, so was he really wrong for thinking that?

And Arceus spoke to him first. That had to mean something.

“On the contrary, I simply meant that we’re all on equal ground,” Volo says. For the first time, goes unspoken.

“I’ll still beat you,” Rei vows. He’d done it before, he could do it again. No matter if he was still favoured by Arceus or not. “Because my bonds with my Pokemon, and my friends, are real. And you don’t know what that feels like.” Though intended to be a sharp jab at Volo, instead, a deep bitterness colours those final words.

Volo’s expression twists into something briefly unreadable before it settles into a polite half-smile. “You’re quick to assume the worst of me.”

“Quick?” Rei barks out a harsh laugh. “No, it was exactly the opposite.” He’d been strung along so thoroughly, accepting every strange behaviour as simply one of Volo’s little oddities. Only up at the Celestica Ruins did those allowances start to crumble – and by then, it was too late.

Volo’s look at Rei is one of intrigue. The way Rei's seen him examining ancient ruins, like he's something Volo wants to observe, or study.

And Rei has had it. Enough dancing around the subject, trying to draw it out of Volo; clearly it’s never going to happen. “Is this all just a game to you? You tried to destroy the world! You want me to think you care about anyone?”

Volo raises an eyebrow. “That's a bold claim. Surely if that had happened, it would've ended up in the history books, somewhere.”

Well – okay. The only person who knew what happened was the Professor, sort of. And Cogita. Arceus knows how she found out. But Professor Laventon didn't know half of it, even, Rei had just incoherently vented everything emotional and hurting at him, swore him to secrecy, and then hoped that he'd never have to unpack that again.

Clearly Arceus had other designs.

“We were friends.” Rei’s voice cracks a bit, there; he hates how true it is. “I thought we were friends. But you were going to kill me for standing in your way!”

Volo frowns. “Now, why would I do that?” He takes a few paces towards Rei and smiles, purposefully, grin stretching tight across his face. “I wouldn't want to lose my favourite customer, after all!”

Stumbling backwards to regain the distance, Rei exclaims, “I’ve bought maybe one thing from you. Stop calling me that!”

“Recipient of free samples, semantics,” Volo shrugs, entirely unaffected, and Rei wars with the competing urges to punch him or bolt into the treeline.

“Play dumb all you want,” Rei hisses, “but you’ve already shown your hand. I could tell them everything. You won’t be able to fool anyone ever again.” Least of all me.

Volo tilts his head with a smirk. “Well then, why are you here?” he asks, calling Rei’s bluff.

And though he can’t know that the Arc Phone is listening in Rei’s satchel, Rei realises that his motivations must be laughably transparent. Maybe Volo thinks Akari, or Cynthia, is watching the whole thing from the treeline. The specifics of it don’t matter, really. Rei’s been outplayed from the very beginning.

Volo makes a little movement with his hand. There's a sudden rustle of movement behind Rei, and he whips around, hand on Decidueye's Pokeball -

But it's just Volo's Togepi, who warbles in alarm and quickly toddles past him.

“What would people rather believe in?” Volo says lightly. “The accusations of a boy who jumps at shadows?” He bends down to pick up Togepi. “Or in the innocence of their friend?”

In Volo's arms, Togepi lets out an adorable squeak.

Over the Pokeball on his belt, Rei’s hand is trembling with misfired adrenaline. He carefully drops his hand to his side and raises his head up high. “Cynthia trusts me. I’ve been here for months, and we’ve worked together on the mysterious stones since they were first found.”

“And so?” Volo shrugs. “A working relationship is hardly worth much. I thought you would've known better, with what Kamado did…”

Rei flinches.

The worst part about it all was that no matter what ulterior motives Volo might have had, back then, when he’d been thrown out into the wild with barely a few days’ worth of supplies – Volo had been there for him when nobody else was.

Volo had seen Rei fall apart and put himself back together with forced cheer. And so, he knew exactly where the cracks were, where to strike with his words to disassemble Rei all over again.

Of course Rei knows Cynthia is responsible, and smart, and has been nothing but friendly to him – but he doesn't really know her, does he? And Volo is her ancestor. Which is pretty obvious, honestly. She’d probably like him immediately.

Just like everyone else did. Including Rei.

“Besides, you're not the only one who's been making friends in high places,” Volo adds smoothly. “I’ve heard that Bettie’s word is quite well regarded.”

So now that Rei had wised up to Volo's true nature, he'd gone and found himself new people to use. “You’ve always been like this, then,” Rei huffs. None of it had been real; their entire ‘friendship’ had been predicated on Rei's usefulness. “They deserve to know the truth about you.”

“Truth? Or your own opinion?” Volo scoffs. “You think so highly of yourself, Rei, but you're not the beloved Hero of Hisui here. No…” he smiles. “You're entirely ordinary. Do remember, it was everyone in that stadium who heard Arceus' voice.”

Admittedly, that stings. He'd thought - maybe - that Arceus was finally telling him why He'd brought Rei here. What he was supposed to do in this strange new land. But he'd failed, unable to clearly hear Arceus’ voice.

Rei spares a thought for the Arc Phone, once a vessel for divine inspiration, now reduced to recording mortals’ petty feuds. His messages to Arceus have been left on read for months. He's probably allowed to be a bit petty, at this point.

Volo continues, “Imagine! Any one of us could become Arceus’ champion.” Togepi makes a little noise. “Yes, even you,” he says indulgently, lifting her up to face him, and she goes cross-eyed following his waving finger.

It's horribly cute, the sort of thing Rei would've been charmed by before. And it's clear Volo is no longer taking Rei seriously at all.

What starts out as a wavering thought suddenly asserts itself with startling clarity. “I don't need anything from you,” Rei realises. He'd told himself he was here for evidence, something concrete he could hold against Volo, and that was true. But beyond that, he'd been after something entirely more personal.

He can walk away.

“I don't need anything from you,” he repeats, with force this time.

Volo turns his attention away from Togepi, and this of all things is what finally seems to make him genuinely confused. “Leaving so soon, Rei?”

Rei doesn't elaborate. He turns on his heel to stalk through the forest back to civilisation. Now, because if he says anything more he doesn't know if he'll ever bring himself to stop. Because he's asking for something he'll never get.

Volo's saying something. He doesn't care to catch all the words, though some of it filters through - “challenge”, “tournament”, and “rivals” among them. The general shape of the message is clear. They'll meet again; Rei's powerless to stop that. But as best he can, he'll shake off whatever lingering grip Volo still has on him.

He doesn't stop walking as the trodden earth turns to paved cobbles under his feet, and he makes it all the way up his building's winding stairs to the little studio apartment that he's been given. Home, for now. Collapsing onto the lone armchair, he takes the Arc Phone out of his satchel and turns off the recording. Thank Arceus for divinely bestowed infinite storage, he supposes.

Rei knows that if he were to listen to it, there'd be nothing of use. Only hidden barbs and Rei’s own ugly, wounded anger. It feels fitting to delete it, to banish the whole encounter to memory, and perhaps eventually, less than that.

He doesn't, and instead tucks it away in a folder several layers deep.

Maybe Professor Laventon wrote about the whole disaster in his private diaries. Rei knows he has them, bless the man. He'd once stumbled into the Professor's office late at night, after an exhausting, terrifying escape from an Alpha, ready to tell Laventon off for sending him there – and startled the Professor fiercely, who quickly shut the manuscript he was writing with a blush. So even if Rei had sworn him to secrecy, he might have confided in the written word.

That's something he can set Cynthia on digging up, then. Even just the suggestion that Laventon, the First Pokemon Professor, had such personal writings, would probably send her into an unstoppable research frenzy. That much about her, at least, he knows. If it still existed in this era, Cynthia would almost certainly find it.

And maybe he doesn't need evidence. Not for the people who matter, anyway.

Akari’s only a few doors away, their apartments close neighbours just like back in Jubilife Village. If he wanted, he could wander over there once the sun rose, have her fantastic tamago rice, and tell her everything.

Is he ready to take that step into thin air? To trust that he'll be believed, in something that's infinitely more convoluted and improbable than the simple plea – “I don't know why the sky is red, it's not my fault, I only ever did what you told me to” –

Well. Volo might've been the last one to break his trust, but he was in no way the first.

Can he make good on those words that he’d levelled so confidently against Volo? That his bonds with his friends are real?

Akari had never doubted. And Adaman and Irida had gone against Kamado's will, risking the standing of their people, just to help him. He would be doing them a disservice if he didn't at least try.

And in this dangerous game, it might be the only winning move.

Even as he makes this decision, he feels the pull of sleep. It's offensively late, or early, in the morning now, depending on perspective, and all of this is Tomorrow Rei’s problem.

There's no energy left to even stumble to bed. Rei falls asleep right there in the lumpy armchair, hand loosely gripped around the Arc Phone, Adaman and Irida’s Poryphone numbers on the screen, ready and waiting.

And, though Rei will certainly wake up sore with a crick in his neck come the morning…

For the first time in a long while, his dreams are not restless.

39 notes · View notes