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redstarwriting · 11 months

Text

the clash | x. brand new

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, mentions of everything that happened in the story, almost fainting, soft hobie, big fluff energy, essentially just a fun lil chapter above everything else to wash away the angst

a/n: AND IT'S OVER!! i'm actually crying a bit this was so fun to write. it will not be the end! you can all bet your asses i'll be working on a sequel for this duo. thank you to everyone who supported the story and my writing. you made the return back to this blog unforgettable and i am so grateful for all of you 🖤 please enjoy the last chapter of 'the clash'

previous chapter: ix. last caress

now reading: x. brand new

end.

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After about 3 more days, you were feeling much better. Hobie was too, as he didn’t need to keep giving blood. In fact, the two of you were basically back to your normal selves. And much to Hobie’s relief, changing your molecular biology did not take away your spider powers. So now he had a partner in crime. Or partner in crime fighting?

Nah, partner in crime sounds better.

“Ready to go, love?” Hobie asks, pouring some food into Shadow’s bowl before closing the bag and webbing it to the ceiling. Shadow runs and starts chomping and Hobie grins, giving him a few pets. “Ready, babe,” you say, coming into to the room. Hobie stands and looks at you, letting out a long whistle. “You look stunnin’,” he says, looking you up and down. You twirl around, showing off how your spider suit looks in the style of his world. Your mask wask lost, so you had to make a new one, but that was no problem. You and Hobie fixed it up, and you gave in to Hobie’s pleas to make it resemble his a bit. Only a bit. You’re still Spider-Goth after all.

He walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. “The spiked choker is a nice touch, who convinced you to put that on? And the studs on your mask? Whoever helped you add them seems like a smart bloke,” he smirks. “You know he’s more of a smartass, but I guess I don’t hate it. The spider charm on the choker is a nice touch,” you say, taking the mask off and winking at him. “You not hatin’ somethin’? Now that is bloody mental.”

“Look who’s talking,” you say and he grins, giving your lips a quick peck before pulling away from you. “Haven’t the foggiest what you’re talkin’ bout, love.” He types on his watch and pulls up Earth-2099, the portal appearing in front of the two of you.

“I’m still so surprised Gwen, Miles, and Pav didn’t try to come to see us this whole time,” you say, and Hobie shrugs. “So am I, but I reckon they understood you were close to dyin’. And I may have threatened them that I’d kill ‘em if they came and woke you up at any point. Guess they took me seriously,” he says, and you playfully smack his arm. “Of course they took you seriously! You literally killed yourself for me, and that was before we even–”

“Fancied each other yeah, yeah, I know,” he cuts you off, grinning at you. “Ready?” he asks again, making sure you’re up to seeing everyone. You nod, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Off we go, then,” he says as the two of you walk through the portal, ending up in Miguel’s hub. “Lemme know if you feel sick or anythin’, yeah? We’ll go right back home,” he says, and you nod. “Thanks, babe,” you say, and he places a quick peck on the top of your head. The two of you walk out and multiple spider-people greet you and welcome you back. “I feel offended none of them have complimented you on your new look,” he says, and you laugh. “Relax, Hobie, I’m sure Miles will be so jealous.”

“And that’s all that matters,” he says, and you shake your head. “You know it would be so faster if we webbed to the common room,” you suggest, and he shakes his head. “Absolutely fuckin’ not. Have you lost the plot? You’re doin’ better, yeah, but you ain’t close to healed. We’re takin’ things nice and slow,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Getting used to the way you talk is gonna take a minute,” you say, shaking your head and he rolls his eyes. “I called you mental just now. Crazy, insane, unhinged–”

“Got it, you fuckin’ tosser,” you imitate his accent, and he removes his arm from your shoulder, giving you an offended look. “Do you know what to just said to me?”

“Nope, but the plan worked, bye!” you say, waving and webbing away. “HEY! BLOODY HELL!” you hear him scream, webbing after you. Even though you haven’t been in action for about a week, you’re still way faster than him. You laugh as he tries to catch up, but you slip out of his grasp every time. A lot of spiders see this happening and are relieved and happy to see the two of you back and wreaking havoc amongst each other. You beat him to the common room, landing and waiting for him. He lands right next to you a few second after you. “Are you bloody mad?!” he says, clearly exasperated, “I told you not to do that yet! What if you sparked out?!”

“Well, whatever that means, I didn’t.”

“Bloody fainted! What if you did?!”

“Relax, I’m not going to– oh, shit,” you suddenly feel very dizzy, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you from falling. “See. This is the shit I was tryin’ to avoid, but no. You had to go and be a bloody daftie,” he mumbles, and you giggle. “Your reaction was worth it.”

“Oh, I bet it was, ya fuckin’ muppet,” he rolls his eyes, and you grin at him. “Do you feel well enough to stand?”

“Probably but I like it better when you’re like this,” you say, and he gives you an unamused look. “Right, then,” he says, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder. You loudly protest. “Nuh uh, don’t give me that now, love,” he turns his attention towards the room, and to his chagrin sees Pavitr recording it on his phone. He rolls his eyes and plops you down on the couch. “Don’t move.”

“I do what I want.”

“Not today, you don’t.”

“Glad to see the two of you haven’t changed at all. Nice new suit, by the way, (Y/n),” Miles says, and Hobie sits next to you, placing his arm on the back of the couch behind you as you chirp out a thank you to Miles. “Why would we?” Hobie says, and Miles stares at him, dumbfounded. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you went feral just to protect their ass and they nearly died because of it and then you nearly died trying to save them after they nearly died and then we nearly died trying to help you so that they didn’t nearly die,” Miles says, and Gwen looks at him, nodding. “Nice description.”

“Thanks,” Miles says, smiling at her. Hobie shrugs, looking at you. “All in a day’s work of bein’ Spider-Man,” he says, and you snort. “You’re impossible, Hobie,” you say, leaning against his shoulder. His arm slides from the couch to having it lazily rest around your shoulders. “Good,” he says with a small smile. “Pav, stop taking pictures,” Gwen says, and he shakes his head. “How can I not?! I have been calling this since the first minute they interacted, you all called me crazy, I’m not crazy! I knew it!”

“Congrats, you want a prize?” Hobie says, and Pav smiles. “Yes, actually, I do. I’m aware you’re probably being sarcastic, but I believe I deserve some sort of recognition for recognizing what you two really were,” he says, and you laugh. “You’re the most emotionally intelligent of us all, Pav,” you say, and he nods. “You’re right. I so am,” he says, and Gwen smiles at the two of you. “I’m happy for you two.”

“Thanks, Gwen,” you say, and Hobie softly grins at you. “Woah! Look who’s back!” Peter B. Parker’s voice rings out as he lands next to you all. Mayday reaches you for you, and Peter hands her over. She gives you a little hug, and you smile. “And Hobie with his arm around you, nice. Nice. Nothing brings you and your partner together like a near-death experience. Trust me, I would know,” he says, and Hobie raises an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t that almost ruin your–”

“Welp, this was a nice talk,” he says, webbing Mayday back to him, and putting her in her carrier. “Catch you later, kids,” he says, webbing away with a short squeal from Mayday. “He is so fuckin’ odd,” Hobie mumbles, and you laugh. “It’s cute how much he loves MJ, though. The definition of til death do us part,” you say, and Hobie glances at you. “Yeah… but not as cute as us,” he whispers in your ear, causing you to look at him with a smile. “Nah, what did you just say to them?” Miles says, and Hobie shrugs. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, and Miles rolls his eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not fair. Share with the class,” Miles says, and Pavitr sighs loudly, shaking his head. “Please Miles. It’s simply the way a boyfriend speaks to his partner.”

“Woah, now, who said I was their boyfriend?” Hobie asks, and they all look at him like he’s just grown a second head. “WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME YOU TWO ARE NOT DATING AFTER EVERYTHING THAT HAS JUST HAPPENED?!” Pav shrieks at the same time as Miles yelling, “OH, I DON’T KNOW MAN, MAYBE THE FACT THAT Y’ALL LIVE TOGETHER AND ARE ALL UP ON EACH OTHER RIGHT NOW?”

“Chill,” Hobie says, putting the palm of his hand out and you snort. “We hate labels, guys.”

“It’s more of a ‘they’re mine’ and ‘I’m theirs’ typa thing,” Hobie says. “You can totally call it a relationship, or whatever you want to call it, though. We just aren’t putting a label on it,” you say, and Hobie nods. “You two are so cool,” Gwen says, and Hobie smirks. “We know.”

“So, I can still say you two are partners and that will be okay?” Pav asks, and Hobie shrugs. “Whatever, mate. We know what we are, so have your fun.”

“This isn’t like one of those situationships, right? Because those are totally unhealthy and not cool,” Miles says, not so subtly glancing at Gwen, and Hobie shakes his head. “Nah. Like I said, we know what we are.”

“Yeah, it’s like you said Miles. He wouldn’t just go feral to protect my ass and then when I nearly die because of it he nearly dies trying to save me after I nearly die and then have our friends nearly die trying to help him so that I didn’t die just for a situationship,” you say, putting a heavy layer of disgust on the term. Miles looks around at everyone before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

“Hobie, (Y/n), can I see you two for a minute?” Miguel appears, pulling the two of you away from your friends. You glance at each other but get off the couch and walk over to him regardless. “How are the both of you feeling?”

“Fine,” Hobie says, and you nod. “Yeah, totally ready to jump back in whenever.”

“Uh, no. No, you’re not able to do that yet,” Hobie says, and you groan. Hobie turns his attention to Miguel. “They’re not ready for that. They almost lost consciousness after webbin’ over here,” Hobie says, and Miguel chuckles slightly. “Well, Dr. Brown, let me know when (Y/n) is ready to get back into the swing of things–”

“Bloody awful pun there, mate. And don’t call me that.”

“–and– hey, that was a great pun, okay?” Miguel diverts his attention, pointing at Hobie with a frown. Hobie just shakes his head, and mouths ‘No, it wasn’t’ at you, causing you to laugh. “Just let me know when they’re better. We’ll continue our training,” Miguel says, and Hobie suddenly gets protective. “What for?”

“Nothing in particular. Mainly to just get their head back into the game. Make it so Spider-Punk and Spider-Goth are unstoppable forces of nature in New London. Happy to see you up and about, (Y/n). And Hobie,” Miguel says, looking at him, “Good job. It’s good to know I can rely on you.” Miguel webs away, and Hobie groans as you laugh. “You just got praise from the boss!”

“Piss off!”

“I got you promoted!”

“Come off it!”

“Never!”

“I hate you,” he says, but the smile on his lips betrays his words. You laugh. “I hate you, more.” He smiles, leaning in and kissing you, not caring who’s watching.

“PAV! STOP TAKING PICTURES!”

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『 tag list 』

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*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

thank you to everyone who asked to be on the taglist! sorry that tumblr lied to me about tagging you multiple times, but i hope you all were able to enjoy the story! thank you 🖤

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie #spiderpunk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

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igotanidea · 2 months

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Phantom: Jason Todd x ghost!reader

part 2 to Specter

***

He would never say it outloud, not that he had to, but adjusting to living without her took much more time then it should.

When he came back, lost, confused and thrown into completely different reality when Tim replaced him in the role of Robin, when Damian joined the family, when he was apparently no longer welcomed and fitting, Y/N would have been the only familiar thing keeping him from jumping into the abyss of madness.

And now, he had to struggle through every day with the thought of her lingering in the back of his mind, followed by two simple words that seemed to justify his every action and pushing forward.

For her.

For her, because she wouldn’t want to watch you fall into the claws of depression.

For her, since it was the only way to prove he was actually worth something and if there was something beyond the grave, Jason wanted her to be proud of him.

Oh,

To see her, just one more time. To hear her voice, her laugh, to feel the touch of her hand on his cheek, always so gentle and caring, even when he did something stupid or reckless.

His mind was turning in direct proportion to the way his body was tossing in bed unable to sleep.

He missed her terribly, only now realizing how much pain it actually brings to loose someone without hope of ever getting them back into one’s life.

Like never ever.

What it meant to get killed and to kill. Having someone’s all fate in one’s hands, playing God, deciding who was and who wasn’t to survive. And if anything it felt like a heavy burden on his shoulders. Jason never regretted getting rid of the scumbags and criminals of Gotham, cleaning the street, taking on the responsibility neither Batman nor any of his brother were ever capable of pursuing. He knew the consequences, both positive and negative. But for the first time he understood the personal emptiness coming from killing.

If only she was here.

She would probably scoff at him, act indifferent and then say something funny or mocking to diffuse the tension that would make them both laugh and feel at least a bit better about this whole vigilantism mess they got involved in as kids.

Or maybe she would be like Bruce. Rejecting him because he had changed his tactics and methods of operation? After all, he wasn’t so brutal and aggressive when he was Robin, she knew him as.

“Fuck!” he hissed, jumping of the bed, unable to have any rest “Get yourself together Todd!” standing in front of bathroom mirror he clutched the sink, almost breaking it due to the force he put into action. “She’s dead. She’s gone. Who the fuck care of what she would think!?” he looked deep into his own eyes, showing desperation, loneliness, fear and uncertainty for future. Despite not being the one to dwell on the past and overanalyze, he could almost see the little street kid he was years ago looking back at him.

“On the other side of the mirror like a fucking Alice in Wonderland” he muttered to himself, head hanging low.

At least until he noticed a shadow appearing behind his back and reflecting in the glass surface, immediately activating all his fighting instincts.

“WHO THE HELL IS HERE?! GET OUT AND SHOW YOUR FACE YOU COWARD!”

Obviously no one showed up which only spur his aggression further on.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Jason muttered casually, but there was no denying his predatory tone that made the innocent words seem life threatening. “Cause when I find you myself, I’ll make you beg for mercy…” he smirked at the plan already forming in his head as he started searching for the intruder in the whole apartment.

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” a voice, not much louder than a whisper or a rustle of a spring wind bounced off the walls, but there still wasn’t anyone inside.

“SHOW YOURSELF!”

“You know, I can’t remember you being this violent back in the days….”

“THE HELL!?”

“Calm yourself Jaybird, I kinda get what it means to be brought back from the grave.”

“What--?”

Jason’s stutters weren’t interrupted by a thunder or lightning or any other supernatural weather occurrence and yet, the familiar silhouette floating in the air, surrounded by a faint blue glow, almost stopped his heart.

“Y/N?”

“Hey Jaybrird.” She smirked as if she wasn’t a ghost appearing out of thin air. “couldn’t leave me alone even from behind the grave, huh?”

“You’re dead!” he cried out taking a step back even if all his instincts were telling him to run from forward and hold her. The rational part of his brain telling him that she clearly had no body to hold.

‘No more than you I see. How’s life, Todd?”

“Like a second chance that I’m obviously wasting not being a good boy.” He rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling the wave of happiness and familiarity stemming from her presence even in this form.

“Oh, please!” she laughed “good boys are holdovers. Haven’t you heard that girls only fall for the misfits and rebels?”

“Is that why you’re here then? Cause you missed the rebel I became?”

“I’m here because clearly your obsessive thoughts about me became so intrusive that someone up there decided I need to come back and teach you a lesson about leaving dead people in peace.”

“Y/N…” he sighed meeting her eyes, that were still the same e/c orbs he loved so much.

“I know…”

“I missed you…”

“I know…”

Guided my some crazy instinct he approached her, his hand travelling up to cup her cheek, to feel the texture of her skin, but instead meeting the cold air when his fingers permeated the ghost form of his friend/lover.

And it was so fucking depressing. Having her so close and still feeling the distance and separation deriving from the thin line separating two worlds – living and death – unable to cross them. If he knew it would work and they would meet afterlife he would reach for one of his guns and put a bullet in his head right away just to be with her, but the risk of going straight to hell and being divided forever was too great.

So he settled on satisfying his eyes with her half-lucent presence and his ears with the home-like voice.

“I’m sorry-“ she whispered

“No.” he cut her off abruptly, tears almost springing from his eyes at having her but not having her at the same time. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there for you. I should have been. I should have listened when you told me to stay and not pursue this stupid search-“

“It was not your fault. You were a kid.”

“I should have known better.”

“Neither of us did. And being stupid is a privilege of childhood and teenagerhood.”

“Is that your way of telling me I should be rational and mature now?” Jason teased, pushing the pain away, deep inside.

“Nah.” She laughed softly and it echoed through the empty space like bells “that’s impossible! Not with all I saw you doing.”

“You- you saw?!”

‘I saw. But me calling you out on all your shit is not something why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here Y/N?”

“I have no idea…”

“Is there any way to –“

“Bring me back?”

“Yeah.”

“Straight to the point, huh? Are there anything filthy in your mind that might be the reason of this sudden urge Mr. Todd?” Y/N joked.

“You have no idea.” Something dangerous flashed In his eyes “But seriously, is there?”

“Do I look like a ghost expert?”

“You are a ghost so who better!?”

“Oh, excuse me, let me call Klaus from umbrella academy and ask his expertise.”

“What? He;s a fictional character!”

“Yes, but it’s similar level of abstraction! I have no body, I have no special skills, sorry to disappoint, so even if I was to cast a spell or something-“

“A spell!” Jason interrupted her with the widest grin.

“What?” that sudden change in attitude got her by surprise, brows furrowing in confusion.

“I know an expert on the spells.”

“Please tell me you don’t mean—”

“Oh I do mean!”

“I am not going to take Constantine advice!”

‘Too bad I didn’t ask your opinion on the matter. It’s been decided.”

“Damn, you are an asshole.”

“Yeah, asshole desperate enough to make a fool out of himself if that gets him the girl he’s into back.”

@havikspike

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd angst #red hood angst

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 11 months

Note

Hello! Apologies if this is a bit too specific but I was wondering if you could a heket x reader where the reader is similar to the fox demon, but they use deals as a way to try to flirt. Heket normally chases them off and just generally sees them as a nuisance. Eventually Heket stops because she has better things to do and the Reader doesn't really seem like a danger, they begin to talk and the feelings build up from there.

"So you've returned to pester me, foul fox..."

"Good evening to you, too, Lady Heket." Your voice, low and sultry, rumbled with a deep chuckle as you looked upon the Bishop of Famine standing on the pier with a piercing gaze. "You know, anger doesn't suit you, dearest. Must you always be so cruel towards me?"

As she struggled to come up with a response, your cheeky grin never wavered for a moment.

You'd teasingly ask if the cat caught her tongue..but given her history with a certain feline, that wasn't the most appropriate joke to make. Not even you would go that far.

"Cruel? Hah, you haven't seen me be "cruel" one bit." She scoffed, gently tugging on her bandages. "You infuriate me."

"How so?"

"...because I know you foxes and your deceptive ways. One had visited me long ago, promising me an artifact others would kill for...and gave me such an unfair price. You know what he wanted?"

You shook your head, curious.

"He wanted my best menticide mushroom farmer. And all he gave me in return was a tiny piece of the artifact! A worthless rock!" She snarled. "Then he expects me to come back and offer him more of my own followers to "complete" it...but I refused and threw the damn thing back at him."

"Ohhh..surely you don't mean my mentor, the Teeth of Darkness..do you?" You blinked in realization, though the persistent scowl on her face told you all. "I see now. But as a whole, the Holy Talisman is actually quite valuable. Pity you refused his deal..it could have turned the tide in your favor against the little Lamb."

"..well, I didn't wanna waste my time begging for bits and pieces of rock. And I'm not gonna waste my time chasing you out of my domain."

"Awh, so you want me to stay?"

"N-No! That's not what I...!!!"

Seeing her frustration made you chuckle softly.

Of course, it now made sense why she was especially arrogant with your species--particularly the ones who did this sort of work. The Teeth of Darkness guided you into this practice long ago, teaching you how to become one with the shadows and bargain with clueless folks around the Old Faith without stirring up too much attention from the Bishops.

And clearly...you failed when it came to Heket.

You were negotiating something with Eligos when she suddenly appeared and immediately chased you out of Anura, ordering you to never come back lest there be consequences.

Yet she didn't frighten you, but rather intrigued you.

Not even the Yellow Crown's power could stop you from coming back and going anywhere in Aura you wished. So you've set your sights on her, beckoning her to the marshes where you would manifest from the darkness every once in a while.

Your favorite spot became this very pier, where you learned she often came here if she needed time to think or reflect on her duties.

Yet time and time again...she would shoo you away, and until now you never fully understood why.

Your deals were hardly anything of material value. All you really asked for was a simple smile, but you'd get a frown instead; if you gave her a compliment, she'd insult you in return.

She acts disgusted by your "promiscuous" remarks...but the cover of night doesn't do much to hide her growing blush every time she turns her face away from you.

She's called you a stalker on countless occasions, though you take no offense to it.

Could she really blame you when she stood in the discreet places where you've frequently bartered with other folks? Could she blame you if she never bothered to find a different spot?

This time around, she didn't lash her tongue out or try chasing you away with vile threats. Maybe she was finally understanding that you're not threatening her cult or anything of the sort.

You're just really annoying. A nuisance. An intrusion on her quiet night away from the temple.

"I'm here to make you a genuine offer." You spoke. "You are under no obligation to agree, but it would mean the world to me if you at least listened to it in full."

Heket was silent for a few moments.

Maybe for once..she'll entertain your proposal. It's not like she could just refuse. You might just come back here some other night and offer the same damn thing.

She nodded. "Go on."

"Thank you, dearest. I shall give you my name..in exchange for a small favor from you. Nothing to do with your loyal followers if that's what you fear."

Although she didn't really care to know your name all that much, part of her couldn't help but be slightly curious. So she allowed you to continue, hoping she won't regret it.

"Allow me to walk you back to your great temple, and we can talk and become more..acquainted with each other beyond our negotiations. You may find that not all of us foxes are sly and cunning dealers. What say you?"

She blinked in disbelief.

That definitely isn't what she expected.

"That's it? You just wanna see Anura? You know we can just warp-"

"Oh I know of your little summoning circles, dear bishop. I have seen it all." You answered with a smaller smile. "But I think a small walk together would be most delightful. I sense a certain loneliness in you, especially on this night...so perhaps you'll enjoy the company of an outsider."

Heket scoffed, unsure why her thorny heart felt so warm inside all of the sudden. "We bishops admonish outsiders who refuse to join us..like Sozo and the Mushroomos. They are rotten thieves, praising him when they should be praising me for enabling their addictions."

A soft laugh escaped you. "Well lucky am I not to have a mushroom atop my head. So..do you accept this offer? We could always discuss how to deal with them down the road if you desire."

"....fine. We have a deal, fox." She grumbled. Although she didn't have much to gain from this, she had nothing to lose either.

You, on the other hand, were most delighted that she was finally giving you a chance. Your persistence has paid off well. "Excellent! From now on, you may call me [y/n]."

"Alright, [y/n]. Let's get going."

"Haha..hasty, aren't we? Very well." You floated closer to the pier, eventually stepping on the boardwalk and approaching Heket. A black cloak enveloped your body, with the tip of your fluffy tail slightly peeking out from underneath, dragging behind you.

She couldn't help but notice it wagging in eagerness, and she had to mentally slap herself so she'd stop staring.

You were a bit shorter than she anticipated. Perhaps it was merely a trick of the shadows that made you so imposing.

"Thank you, my Lady." After putting your hood down, you bowed your head respectfully, before gazing up at her. "You lead the way, and I'll follow."

"..are you giving me orders?"

"Is leading not what you do best as a bishop?"

Despite her silence after that, her agreement to let you hold onto her arm and lead you through Anura spoke louder than any word she could've said.

You could see her becoming more relaxed the longer you both walked, with you chatting about the things you admired about Anura. Not to mention her hold on you unconsciously tightening whenever it was her turn to speak..more notably when she talked about her siblings with feelings of melancholy.

This time, there was no hiding the light blush that dusted her face, even with most of her flesh being red enough to conceal it.

Indeed, you've turned this hardened frog into a softie.

#clanask #anonymous #cotl x reader #cult of the lamb x reader #bishop heket #bishop heket x reader #heket x reader #demon reader #fox reader

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secretmellowblog · 1 year

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I love how the parallel between Valjean’s crisis after the Bishop and Javert’s crisis after the barricades is so strong that their thought processes are often described with nearly the exact same metaphors.

The musical conveying this by having them sing the same melody is such a perfect translation of the way their dialogue/descriptions echo each other in the novel...Like:

Valjean:

“Is it true that I am to be released?” he said, in an almost inarticulate voice, and as though he were talking in his sleep.

Vs Javert:

As though in a dream, (Javert) murmured rather than uttered this question: “What are you doing here?”

—

Valjean:

Like an owl, who should suddenly see the sun rise, the convict had been dazzled and blinded, as it were, by virtue.

Vs Javert:

He perceived amid the shadows the terrible rising of an unknown moral sun; it horrified and dazzled him. An owl forced to the gaze of an eagle.

—

Valjean:

He no longer knew where he really was.

Vs Javert:

Where did he stand? He sought to comprehend his position, and could no longer find his bearings.(…) He no longer understood himself.

Valjean:

At times he would have actually preferred to be in prison with the gendarmes, and that things should not have happened in this way; it would have agitated him less.

Vs Javert:

But then, why had he permitted that man to leave him alive? He had the right to be killed in that barricade. He should have asserted that right. It would have been better to summon the other insurgents to his succor against Jean Valjean, to get himself shot by force.

—

Valjean:

He actually saw that Jean Valjean, that sinister face, before him. He had almost reached the point of asking himself who that man was, and he was horrified by him.

Vs Javert:

He conceived a horror of himself.

—

Valjean:

He could not yield to the evidence of what was going on within him. He hardened himself against the angelic action and the gentle words of the old man.

Vs Javert:

He had not yielded without resistance to that monster, to that infamous angel, to that hideous hero, who enraged almost as much as he amazed him.

Valjean:

By one of those singular effects, which are peculiar to this sort of ecstasies, in proportion as his reverie continued, as the Bishop grew great and resplendent in his eyes, so did Jean Valjean grow less and vanish. After a certain time he was no longer anything more than a shade. All at once he disappeared. The Bishop alone remained; he filled the whole soul of this wretched man with a magnificent radiance.

Vs Javert:

Then his reflections reverted to himself and beside Jean Valjean glorified he beheld himself, Javert, degraded. (…)

Javert, the spy of order, incorruptibility in the service of the police, the bull-dog providence of society, vanquished and hurled to earth; and, erect, at the summit of all that ruin, a man with a green cap on his head and a halo round his brow; this was the astounding confusion to which he had come; this was the fearful vision which he bore within his soul.

—

Valjean:

That which was certain, that which he did not doubt, was that he was no longer the same man, that everything about him was changed, that it was no longer in his power to make it as though the Bishop had not spoken to him and had not touched him.

Vs Javert:

All that he had believed in melted away. Truths which he did not wish to recognize were besieging him, inexorably. Henceforth, he must be a different man.

Valjean:

He examined his life, and it seemed horrible to him; his soul, and it seemed frightful to him.

Vs Javert:

He felt himself emptied, useless, put out of joint with his past life, turned out, dissolved. Authority was dead within him. He had no longer any reason for existing.

Valjean:

Did he have a distinct perception of what might result to him from his adventure at Digne? Did he understand all those mysterious murmurs which warn or importune the spirit at certain moments of life? Did a voice whisper in his ear that he had just passed the solemn hour of his destiny; that there no longer remained a middle course for him; that if he were not henceforth the best of men, he would be the worst; that it behooved him now, so to speak, to mount higher than the Bishop, or fall lower than the convict; that if he wished to become good he must become an angel; that if he wished to remain evil, he must become a monster? (….) did he catch some shadow of all this in his thought, in a confused way?

Misfortune certainly, as we have said, does form the education of the intelligence; nevertheless, it is doubtful whether Jean Valjean was in a condition to disentangle all that we have here indicated. If these ideas occurred to him, he but caught glimpses of, rather than saw them, and they only succeeded in throwing him into an unutterable and almost painful state of emotion.

Vs Javert:

God, always within man, and refractory, He, the true conscience, to the false; a prohibition to the spark to die out; an order to the ray to remember the sun; an injunction to the soul to recognize the veritable absolute when confronted with the fictitious absolute, humanity which cannot be lost; the human heart indestructible; that splendid phenomenon, the finest, perhaps, of all our interior marvels, did Javert understand this? Did Javert penetrate it? Did Javert account for it to himself? Evidently he did not. But beneath the pressure of that incontestable incomprehensibility he felt his brain bursting.

..And these are only the lines I've caught tonight. I don't know, as much as Les Mis adaptations love to focus on Valjean and Javert (often without understanding them cough bbc les mis cough) I feel like there are very few that Get how much both of them were broken by the same prison system, and how the trauma of that makes them view themselves and their own feelings through similar lenses.

#les mis #les mis letters #lm 1.2.13 #1.2.13 #but yee!!!!#valjean/javert parallels #javert #valjean #anyway feeling sad about valjean hours 2nite

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laurel-finch · 2 months

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'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch10: Winds of Change

Summary: Returning to the Winchesters does not meet expectations... Referenced Episodes: S1 E16 "Shadow" CW: Alcohol. Arguing. Normal Supernatural things. Another ridiculously long chapter, my b. Word Count: 8209 Recommended Song: Winds of Change -- Scorpions Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

I gnawed on my lower lip as I jammed another number into my phone, praying that this time one of the brother’s would pick up. I had a handful of Dean’s phone numbers and only two of Sam’s, but I knew they had more that they hadn’t felt the need to share with me. It all came down to which phone they were actively using for the case they were on. There was no consistency with them.

I glared down at the number I knew to be linked to Dean’s ATF persona. There was a chance he would answer, but it was slim. I really needed a better way to get ahold of the brothers. I sighed and hoped I would have better luck with Sam as I dialed one of his numbers next.

After six long rings, the call dropped. No answer. I pinched the bridge of my nose and kicked at a pebble in the middle of the deserted motel parking lot. Apparently, I'd need to call all of their numbers.

Three numbers in I finally heard a receiving click on the other end and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hello?" came Sam's gruff voice on the other end. I was surprised to hear his voice instead of his older brother's.

"Sam? Hey, it’s me," I heard a lot of shuffling from the other end, like he had bolted upright from shock. “Where, um… where are you guys?”

Sam was silent for a beat before speaking again. "Is everything alright?" I flinched at the wariness in his tone.

"I'm fine, Sam. Better than fine actually," I answered quietly. I placed my other hand over the speaker of the phone and turned my back to the motel parking lot conspiratorially. My voice dropped to a soft tone. "Look, I… I know it’s been a while and you probably don’t want to see me, but-"

"I do," he interjected quickly and I clamped my mouth shut. "Believe me, I do- we do. But what about your pack? And, well… I mean, Dean’s pretty pissed. He’s been pissed. He’s been throwing himself into this hunt for dad."

I frowned at the worn pavement beneath my feet. I figured he would be mad at me, but facing the reality of the situation hurt regardless. Maybe I could just… ignore it all. Go back to my pack, forget it ever happened. Like I never met them. Would that be easier?

No. No, that would hurt more. I mentally cursed myself for getting so attached. "Did you tell him why?”

"Yeah, yeah I tried to explain it to him. But… well, look at it from his perspective. Dean’s spent his whole life killing, and the one time he decides not to…" he sounded distraught and I heard more shuffling from the other end.

He didn’t need to finish his thought for me to know what he meant. Dean had done me a favor by not killing me when we first met. At the time it hadn’t felt like much of a favor – maybe death would have been safer. But now, with how much our lives had changed… it was understandable that he was frustrated. The one different choice he made led to a human being killed and me running off without a word.

I fell silent, pondering what to say next. How was I supposed to explain to them why I left? I think Sam understood better than he was letting on. It wasn’t too dissimilar to why he left for college, although his reasoning wasn’t nearly as bloody. But Dean… it made sense that he would be hurt…

"I want to see you, Sam – both of you. I want to apologize to Dean, but I can't do that unless I see him."

Sam sighed from the other end. "OK. I'll… keep you updated on where we are.”

After a flood of profuse thank-yous and Sam's chuckles, the line finally went dead. He had given me a location amongst my gratitude and I was already slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

—

After half a day of travel, the sun was setting and I was thoroughly exhausted. Upon seeing the welcome sign that coaxed me into the small city I stretched my arms high above my head and allowed myself to slow to a steady walking pace.

Oddly enough, my heart felt heavy, like something severe was weighing on me. It was... an odd sensation that I hadn't felt in a very long time - not since my parents were still with me. Oddly enough, it was less of a weighing feeling and more of a tug. The tug itself was heavy, and it felt like it was pulling on a part of me that I didn't want to be released.

Something didn’t feel right.

I hummed and frowned slightly, my eyebrows creasing with worry. Maybe it was a mistake to come looking for the Winchesters before the pack? I had half a mind to turn back, but... I still didn't feel ready. If Sam and Dean were afraid of what I had done, how would my pack feel? They depended on the stability and different lifestyle my home provided. I kicked the occasional large stone out of my way as I traipsed down the road, headed toward whatever lay at the end of it. Hopefully a warm bed.

After another thirty minutes of walking, something I grumbled about to myself, I finally spotted dim lights behind a row of thick pine trees. My ears pricked at the sound of the engines roaring to life in the early night, something that oddly warmed my heart and made me want to prance. It wasn't long after that the stench of alcohol hit my nose.

The bar was a brick building on the edge of town, a neon sign glowing above the door and the building itself set into the corner of the block. The occasional car or motorcycle was parked out front. I smiled and brushed my hand affectionately over the front of an older motorcycle – I had always wanted to learn how to ride them. I wondered what it felt like to be on something so small, barrelling down a highway faster than I could run.

My eyes rose, scanning the line of cars until they settled on a sleek older model across the street. My eyes widened and a grin tore across my face. It was the Impala.

I whirled toward the door so fast that I nearly fell over, tripping over my own feet like a stumbling drunk. My senses dulled as the stench of alcohol hit my nose once again. The harsh smell practically threw me off my feet and made my eyes water. I couldn't place any other scent amongst the heavy, bourbon-filled air and that alone sunk anxious claws into my lungs, oxygen being stolen from them.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, grounding myself. The overwhelming scents and smells were driving my wolfish senses crazy, as they still hadn't calmed from my last escapade with the brothers. It had been weeks since I was in a room with this many people. I felt small and large at the same time. Small with worry and nerves. Large with fearsome hunger.

I rolled my shoulders and took a few more deep breaths, sifting through the heavily masked scents. My eyes flew open as a familiar scent hit my nose and I struggled to keep the rising gold color down.

Cherries.

I pushed my way through the crowd of drunkards and bikers. It was exactly the kind of scene Dean liked. Loud enough to quiet his own raging thoughts. Dark enough to dull the headache behind his eyes. Music he could get lost in, and a drink that burned just right.

"Hey," I spoke cautiously as I sat beside him and rested my forearms on the bar counter. Dean spared me a glance from the corner of his green eye and suddenly jumped. He did a double take out of shock and turned to me with wide eyes and parted lips. As suddenly as his surprise had come, it was gone and darkened with spite.

"What do you want?" he growled and took a long sip from his whiskey glass, failing to hide his frown.

I frowned, my brows knitted with frustration. I could already tell this wasn't going to be a good conversation. "I came to apologize."

Dean scoffed and tightened his grip on his glass. "Apologize for what? Abandoning us without a word?" he exhaled and glared at me. "That's not something I'll accept an apology for, sweetheart." I bristled. Although most of his nicknames were endearing, this one was spat out like it burned him.

"I had my reasons, Dean. You know I wouldn't leave without a good one-"

"Do I know that?" he snarled, spinning his stool to face me. "Cause it seems like you don't give a damn about Sam or me, or how we felt." I winced and opened my mouth to speak. He shushed me with a raised finger. "So what's your excuse? You got tired of us holding you back from going apeshit?"

Ow. I glowered at him. "You know I would never do that."

"Yeah? You seemed pretty content when you had your teeth sunk into Jared Bender's heart." I winced again, my glare cracking. "You didn't even know his name, did you?"

"He was trying to kill Sam," I growled, trying to justify my actions. "You would have done the same."

"Damn right I would have killed him. I would have shot his ass dead, would’ve been dead before he hit the dirt. But I certainly wouldn't have torn him apart and strung his organs around the room!" he growled between his teeth. He tried to keep his voice low, despite the uninterested roar of the bar occupants.

I balled my fists in my lap and glared at him as he twisted to face me. His jaw was set sternly, lips pressed into a thin line. It was the same look he gave Sam when the two argued. “You’re a hypocrite.” My tone caused my words to lose their bite.

"I'm a hypocrite? You fucking killed and nearly ate a man, and now you're trying to justify it to me!" he snapped, one corner of his mouth drawn up in a sneer. "You left Sam and me without a word! And now you're crawling back here to apologize and call me a hypocrite?"

My blood was boiling and once more my senses were raging. I couldn't quite grasp it, but it almost felt like a separation inside me, one side longing to beg for forgiveness and the other itching to sink its fangs into Dean's neck. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes, struggling to ground myself again.

Maybe a few months as friends wasn’t enough to convince him I wasn’t worth the trouble. Maybe he should’ve aimed for the head when we first met.

Without missing a beat I snapped back at him. "Quit acting like a girl whose prom date stood her up. I had my reasons and if you'll shut up for a few minutes, I'll tell you what was going through my head," I exhaled shakily and glared, steeling myself for his own reproachful response. "I left to protect you, to protect Sam, and to protect everyone around you. I wasn't stable – you know that, you saw it. So stop talking like a self-righteous prick."

Despite the quick tongue-lashing, I still didn't feel better. I hadn't said half of what I wanted to. If I could have given Dean a glimpse inside my thoughts, I would have in a heartbeat.

His frown remained stalwart on his features, furrowed brows unyielding. His viridescent eyes surveyed my own with contempt and barely contained anger, an emotion I mirrored. Eventually, his gaze reluctantly dropped back to the beer I had passed him, which he took a swig of. I felt a small victory until he spoke up.

"Get out," he grumbled.

"What?" I demanded with equal, if not more, frustration.

"Get out," he ordered more firmly this time with rage coating his words. I blinked in confusion – not just at his harsh words, but at the gripping pain in my chest and the harsh scratching, I felt in the back of my mind, like something fighting to escape. It struck me that Dean was really, truly angry with me for leaving, despite my reasoning – and from what I knew of him, he wasn't just going to forgive and forget.

He swore under his breath and whipped his head toward me, eyes raging with rage and, to my amazement, pain. "Are you deaf?" he snarled lowly, "I don't want to hear your excuses. Fuck off." He gripped his beer tightly and guzzled it then slammed it onto the counter.

Wrath hit me like a semi-truck, and that familiar clawing sensation I kept hidden in the back of my thoughts lunged forward. Those nagging thoughts took the form of my wolf, black fur ruffled and fangs bared in anger.

Whatever wolfish instincts I had let escape were now clawing to take control. For the first time in a long time, I felt like two beings at once. As I had surmised earlier, I had the very human side that wanted nothing more than to avoid conflict, that just wanted to apologize to Dean and work things out. But my monster side...

I gulped and glared viciously at Dean.

I felt a rumble low in my chest, a familiar rumble that I had last felt with my father. My wolf wanted me to tear into Dean, a human that we had somehow bound to our pack. Now this pup was blatantly challenging me, as she put it. She snarled at him and I resisted the urge to follow suit.

She was pacing in my mind, stalking back and forth, her molten eyes fixated on Dean. My own eyes faded to match the warm gold of hers, whiskey-colored in the faded glow of the bar lights.

I hadn't even realized just how much I was shaking. My wolf wanted out, wanted to shred him for his disloyalty. It was an odd feeling to be separated from a piece of myself, although the more I focused on her, the more I realized that we had been separated for a long time. For years, I lacked the fluid mobility between myself and my instinct, not the mobility that I once had. I hadn't had it since I was fifteen. It felt like I was holding back a tidal wave of torrential emotions, a painful instinct that wanted me to embrace the monster I was and chow on some hearts. Not Dean though. She wanted him back in his place as my... pack member? Was that what she- I viewed him as?

Dean swore again, finally breaking eye contact. He reached for his beer with a shaky hand and took another final swig before wiping his mouth and standing. "Fuck this," he grumbled, "I'm out."

He hadn't even made it three steps before something in me snapped and I snarled. "Sit your ass down before I sink my teeth into you and drag you back."

Dean whirled on me, chest heaving with fury. I turned my blazing golden eyes on him, slowly, with my mouth set into a firm line and eyebrows slightly drawn together. It struck me that this was the same look my mother had given my father when she was pissed as all hell, a look that clearly said he needed to shut up if he wanted to keep his testicles intact.

Like my father, Dean responded with a slack jaw, opening and closing his mouth in surprise and confusion. His resolve, although still strong, was withering.

I nodded toward his vacated stool. He sat and shot me an angry glance, trying (and failing) to mask his nerves.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves. I stretched my fingers, feeling my joints pop after being balled into tight fists for god know how long. With a sigh, I locked eyes with Dean once more, his narrowed and wary.

"You know full well I had to leave, Dean." I snapped. "If I hadn't left, I guarantee you would have eventually sent me home, thinking my pack could help. Don't act pissy with me for doing what I felt was right."

Dean glowered and his nostrils flared. "Having a reason doesn't change that fact that you left without a word-"

"- If I had told you I was leaving, would you have asked me to stay?"

"Of course, I would have!" he hissed and leaned forward. "Whether you like it or not, you're part of this family now. I'm not going to just let my family walk out on me like that."

"That's the problem, Dean!" I argued. "I know that, if you had asked, I would have stayed! Sam wouldn't have asked, he would accept my decision and move past it, because he’s made that decision before for himself! You though, you would have gotten so caught up in your familial ideas that I wouldn't have been able to leave!"

"What's so wrong about staying with us!? About staying with me!?" he shouted back, a snarl set on his features. My eyes widened and he followed suit, realizing just what he had said.

"Dean, I had to leave," I uttered quietly. "For the second time in my life, I royally fucked up. I needed- need to get back on the same page. You know that feeling better than most."

"Why are you risking it?" he grumbled. I smiled weakly.

"Because you're my family too, Dean. Whether you like it or not, you're part of my pack now. You're family," I answered quietly. His own eyes softened. "Are you still mad at me?" I inquired with a nervous smile.

"Hell yeah, I'm still mad," he grunted. "But yeah... I get it. Wish I didn't, it would make staying mad at you a hell of a lot easier."

My nervous smile grew to a true grin, the gold fading from my eyes. My wolf scoffed and sat back on her haunches, melting into the background of my thoughts.

My human side had won yet again.

"Don't think you're off the hook," Dean huffed and stood from his stool. "You've got a lot of work to do to make it up to me, Scooby."

"Would pie be a good first step?" I teased, standing up with him.

His expression softened slightly. The harsh lines of his scowl faded and the corners of his mouth dipped down in a frown. His brows pinched inward, hiding slight surprise. “It’s a start.”

—

Unlike his brother, Sam was happy to see me. I practically threw myself at him when I saw him in the motel room. Dean sulked and ate his pie while Sam and I caught up, discussing hunts and my own journey.

"Wait, so what do you mean you can't change shape?" Sam said, raising a forkful of pie to his mouth. "Isn't that, like, literally part of being... you?"

"Kind of," I uttered through my own forkful. "It's a mental barrier. Sometimes I can get it… close, sometimes I can't. The times that I can take multiple tries and usually it's kind of painful. Hurts my joints."

"What kind of mental barrier? Like a trauma barrier or you just don't want to?"

I huffed and reached for another bite of my slice. "I don't know. It's... it's like my mind knows I won't always be able to control what I do in that form. It's like a piece of me is trying to keep that instinctive part of me tied down."

I heard a snort from behind me and spun to face Dean, who was sitting at a little table under the window next to the door. "Why're you talking like it's two separate people? It's still you, right?"

I exhaled softly, choosing my words carefully when I spoke up. "Yeah, it's still me, but it's a side of me that I'm not very... in touch with. I haven't been in a long time."

"So your wolf is that instinctive part of you that you're keeping 'tied down'?" Sam inquired. I nodded.

"I think so. And she's been a lot rowdier since Minnesota. Over the years I've just... made a habit of keeping her chained down so that I don't have any screw-ups."

"And yet," snapped Dean, "you still didn't have a strong enough grip on her." He shoved a large bite of pie into his mouth and chewed, his jaw tensing. I practically wilted and stared down at my feet that were stretched out in front of me. His opinion on the matter had changed so drastically since before I left.

"Dean!" Sam hissed. "I know you're pissed, but you don't need to be an ass-"

"It's fine, Sam," I uttered. "He's not wrong." I huffed and brushed a hair out of my face. "I know it's not an excuse but... when my pack is involved, I just lose control. I'm going to keep working on it," I sighed. "I've never had a pack before – never wanted one – so, it's all so new to me. And now I have to worry about six skinwalkers and two humans that have somehow wormed their way into my family-" Dean winced. "- I've got to worry about my self-control and make sure I don't kill anyone, I have to figure out these damn whispers, and-"

"Hold up," said Sam, throwing up a halting hand. "What whispers?"

I paled. I hadn't meant to let that slip out. I didn't want the brothers to worry about whatever weird-ass whispers I had been hearing - I knew that they'd get fixated on figuring it out and potentially killing whatever it was. They didn't have the time or resources to help me with that -- hell, I didn't even know if it was actually a living thing talking to me. For all I knew, some celestial entity was trying to give me advice. At worst, I was going nuts.

"I- uh," I stuttered over my words. I jumped as Dean stood, tossing his paper plate in a trash can and sitting on the bed beside Sam. I refused to turn to him and continued staring at my feet and my place on the floor. "I've just been hearing these weird whispers. It's nothing too crazy-"

"Whispers are pretty frickin’ crazy,” Dean remarked firmly. I frowned. "Keep talking."

"There's not much to tell, Dean," I snapped, twisting to face him with a scowl. "I just hear this whisper. When I try to follow it, it... it shows me things."

"It shows you things?" Sam asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Like, I was chasing it when I met Marcus and Caeden. I just... followed the whisper and it led me to them. And with Calliope, it was... it wasn't whispering. It was screaming, frantic. It made me frantic. It knew she was in danger and it took me to her."

Dean swore under his breath. "How long have you been hearing these things? What are they saying to you?"

I scrunched my brows in thought. "It's been about three months I think? Maybe a little more?" Dean scoffed.

"And you're only telling us about this now?"

"Well, what was I supposed to say!?" I snarled back. "'Oh hey Dean, just wanted to let you know that I might be going a bit crazy, cause this voice I know literally nothing about it talking to me'!?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "That is exactly what you tell us! And then we help you figure out whatever the hell it is and maybe kill it!"

I huffed and turned away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. "I don't think it needs to be killed."

"What?" Dean growled and leaned forward, "What if it leads you into danger huh? What if it drags you into something you can't handle!?"

I whipped around to glare at him. "Would you even care, Dean? Last I checked, you didn't want me around anyway."

"Guys," Sam silenced us with a warning tone, snapping out of his deep thoughts. "Quit going at each other's throats, it's pointless."

"She wouldn't go for the throat, Sammy," Dean growled, balling his hands into fists, "She'd go for the heart."

"If you don't shut the hell up I will beat the shit out of you," I hissed back.

"I'd like to see you try," he snapped back.

"Would you two just shut up!" Sam snapped and glared at the both of us like he was ready to maim. "We've got bigger problems than you dumbasses not getting along." Dean and I fell silent, dropping our harsh gazes from one another and onto the floor. I could practically feel Dean's blood boiling - he was seething. I was too. I hated the way he was talking to me, treating me. Sam placed his hands on his face, dragging them down languorously, and sighed out of frustration. I perked up as he said my name. "What are the whispers saying to you?"

I hummed in thought. "Things like 'come', mostly," Dean snorted and I glared at him. "Last time it said 'see' and 'go'. Pretty much as soon as I realized something was wrong it changed what it was saying."

"Is it always only one word?"

"Yeah, one word at a time. Usually, there's a long pause and then it says something else. Last time... last time it was screaming so loud that it felt like it was clawing inside my skull," I mused for a second, mulling it over. "Pretty much every other time it's been like an existential thing like I was chasing someone just ahead of me. That time it felt like it was... pushing me, almost. Like it was urging me forward instead of urging me to chase."

Sam ruminated for a few moments, looking puzzled. Finally, he turned to Dean and muttered, "What do you think? Have you seen anything like that in dad's journal?"

Dean shook his head and fiddled with the odd-looking charm hanging around his neck. "No, I haven't. Honestly, sounds like a possession of some sort," his words faded into deep thought. His eyes rose to meet mine. "Can skinwalkers even get possessed?"

"Not that I know of. To my knowledge, you have to have a soul to get possessed."

Sam's eyes widened and he leaned forward with interest. "You don't have a soul?"

I shook my head. "Don’t think so. My dad told me it's why we don't go to heaven or hell when we die."

Dean quirked a brow. "Then where do you go? And how did he know?"

I shrugged. "For all I know there's nothing after death for monsters. It's just... over..." my shoulders slumped. I had always hoped that my father was wrong, that maybe there was something, anything after death. I didn't want it to just be over.

"Well, if it's not possession," Dean grumbled and leaned back on his hands, "maybe it's a demon?"

"Dean, why would a demon be talking to her?" Sam countered. "It's not like she can sell her soul."

I frowned. "What if it's not anything bad? What if it's, like, her? Instinct? Maybe I just subconsciously know when something is wrong with the pack?"

"No," Sam stated. "It can't be that. You said it led you to Marcus and Caeden? They weren't part of your pack at the time. Unless your instinct latches on to potential pack members nearby, I don't think that's it."

“Well if it were that, it would have led me to Sasha, Booth, and Andrew long before you guys rolled into town.”

“Unless they were the catalyst that sent your… pack honing abilities into overdrive?” Dean offered.

"Whatever the reason is for it talking to me-" I started, referring back to Sam's previous statement, "- as long as the thing stays out of my way, I don't care what it says or leads me to."

Sam chuckled. "Fair enough. We can figure out our game plan for dealing with this thing later." The younger brother yawned, covering his mouth with his hand.

"We?" I questioned teasingly. "I don't remember agreeing to that."

Dean huffed and stood from Sam's bed and marched toward his own. He flopped onto the bed, landing on his back and locking his eyes with the ceiling. "Damn right this is a 'we' operation. No way in hell are we letting you figure this out on your own."

I chuckled dryly. “Doesn’t sound like you’re mad at me anymore.”

He scoffed. "Sure, soon we'll be frolicking in a meadow full of flowers together."

Sam chuckled with me as he rummaged through his bag, hunting for a toothbrush within it and setting out a set of clothes for the following day. "Alright, you two," he said, "we've got a hunt tomorrow, so enough talking."

I quirked a brow, my grin falling away. "We've got a hunt?"

Sam nodded and hummed in response. "Murder in Chicago."

I barked out a laugh. "Yeah, like that's uncommon for Chicago." A rustling caught my attention and I turned to see Dean rummaging through his own luggage.

Sam smirked down at his bag and turned to face me, toothbrush in hand. "This is the second one in two months. Two people found dead in their apartments, no sign of forced entry."

My brows rose in surprise. "Spirit maybe?"

Dean huffed. "We were thinking a cursed object. No way a spirit could move between houses like that." I nodded in agreement. I wasn't exactly knowledgeable on all the spiritual aspects of the supernatural world – ask me anything about certain monsters, and I could answer more than most hunters. But ghosts, psychics, witches... those were all foreign. Hell, I had only heard stories about psychics before meeting Missouri Moseley.

"We'll find out what it is soon," interjected Sam, always the mother of the group. "Just get to sleep - especially you, Dean, since you'll be driving tomorrow."

Dean grumbled something under his breath and flopped back onto his bed, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. I grinned and made my way toward a rather large armchair in the corner of the room. I dragged a cushion off the chair and motioned for Sam to toss me a pillow. To my delight, he tossed two and a heavy blanket that had been folded and lain across the end of the bed.

After putting together my relatively comfortable nest, Sam turned out the light and the sound of peaceful snores filled the room.

—

The Impala rolled to a halt on the side of the packed road and Dean expertly parked against the curb. Sam sighed and ruffled his hair, scanning the newspaper seated in his lap.

I leaned forward and gazed out the front window at the apartment building before us. The room was somewhere on the third floor. I fiddled with the hem of my costume and followed the brothers out of the car, my eyes following Dean as he moved toward the trunk and withdrew a toolbox. He had hardly said anything to me since the night I got back. The most he would do is give me the necessary information for the case or give me a clipped answer to a question.

I missed bantering with him. I didn't like this odd silent treatment I was receiving from him. It put me in a bad mood every time he gave me a brief answer or even none at all. I wanted nothing more than to scream at him to get over himself and just forgive me already.

"You know," Dean started as he paced down the sidewalk toward where Sam and I were standing, "I've gotta say, dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork." He grinned and swung his toolbox lazily at his side. "What was that play you did?" he asked Sam, a smirk dawning on his features. He stumbled for a moment, struggling to remember the name. "What was it - ‘Our Town’? Yeah, you were good, it was cute."

Sam scoffed and a blush tinged his ears and cheeks. I chuckled, punching him teasingly in the shoulder. "You never told me you were in a play, Sam."

He chuckled nervously and turned his head to me. "It was a long time ago, and I really didn't have a big part. I was a background character."

"Main character in my heart," Dean teased. Sam rolled his eyes.

"But honestly, Dean. This getup helps us look the part. Do you want to pull this off or not?" Sam quickly changed the subject.

"I'm just saying, these outfits cost hard-earned money."

"Whose?" I countered and glared teasingly.

"Ours. You think credit card fraud is easy?"

It didn't take us long to reach the third floor and the door of the victim. The landlady grumbled and fumbled with the keys before pushing the white door open to let us in.

"Thanks for letting us look around," Sam said to her politely. Dean and I paced around the hallway, him fumbling with the alarm system while I checked for any signs of forced entry on the door.

"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so..." she trailed off and sauntered into the room with Sam close behind. I shut the door and quirked an eyebrow at the severed chain lock. I caught Dean's attention and nodded toward it, holding the two ends of the golden chain delicately. Dean frowned and turned to follow the landlady and his brother. "You said you're with the alarm company, right?" the older woman asked and spun to face the brothers.

"That's right," answered Dean, flashing his most sincere smile. It looked more like a grimace, in all honesty. He really wasn't that good at the acting part of this job.

The woman huffed wearily in response. "Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man." I choked down laughter and covered my mouth with a hand. She leaned around the boys to cast me a sly grin.

Dean cleared his throat and flashed his own tentative grin. "Well, that's why we're here. To make sure it never happens again." The woman nodded and stepped aside to allow us to peruse the apartment.

"You found the body, right?" I asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She nodded and swallowed dryly. "Were there any signs of a forced entry?"

"Any windows open?" Sam asked. "Was the alarm still active?"

"Windows were locked, front door was bolted. We had to cut the chain to get in here," she grouched in response. Dean frowned – that chain was the only lead we had. We were back to square one.

"Did you find her right after it happened?" Dean asked, referencing the girl who had been killed. The landlady shook her head.

"No, a few days later. Her work called and said they hadn't seen her in a while. I knocked on her door. That's when I noticed... the smell," she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memory.

"And what condition was she in?" Dean pressed. The landlady huffed and glared at him.

"Meredith was all over the place, in pieces. I tell you, the guy who did it must have been a whack job. If I didn't know any better, I would have said it was an animal attack." The brothers looked first at each other and then Sam's eyes met mine. My brows furrowed. What could possibly have shredded her like that?

Sam's eyes flitted toward the woman. "Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time and give this place a once over?"

The landlady shrugged in response. "Go right ahead, knock yourself out." My eyes followed her as she walked out of the apartment, waiting for the door to latch before giving the go-ahead to speak.

"So a killer walks in and out of the apartment, no weapons, no prints, nothing..." Dean grumbled, trailing off as he rifled through his toolbox. I hummed quietly in response.

"There's got to be a trace of something here, some sort of clue. There's no way something could have killed her and not left a trail," I said, tracing a few fingers lazily over the large spots of blood.

"I'm telling you, the minute I saw the article I knew this was our kind of gig," Sam said, inspecting the windows. He jumped when Dean's EMF meter went off.

"I think I agree with you," Dean answered as he held up the box to show off the number of lights indicating supernatural presence.

"Did you ever talk to the cops yesterday?" I asked him.

Dean nodded and stood from his crouch position on the once white carpet. "Oh, yeah," he said, smirking. "I talked to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law." I rolled my eyes.

"What'd you find out?" Sam pressed. I flashed him a quick glare which he looked rather confused by.

"Well, she's a Sagittarius, loves tequila - I mean, wow," Dean sighed almost wistfully, "Oh! And she's got this little tattoo-"

"Jesus, Dean!" I snapped. "Not about your hook-up, about the case!"

Dean grumbled something I didn't catch. I glared at the back of his head, almost wishing I could bore holes into it. "Nothing we don't already know," he carped. "Except for one thing they're keeping out of the papers."

"Enough with the suspense, Dean," I said. At this point, I just wanted this case to be over. I already was not a fan of Chicago.

"You're no fun," he sighed. "Meredith's heart was missing."

Sam and I both jumped to attention, whirling on Dean with twin, wide-eyed stares.

"Her heart? What do you think did it to her?" Sam inquired.

"Landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe a werewolf?"

I barked out a laugh. "No way it was a werewolf. Moon cycle isn't right, and even if it was, I'd smell it. They reek, like the worst combination of rotten meat and cigarettes." I scrunched my nose at the thought. "My money's on a spirit. If it was a monster, I guarantee they would have left some trace other than blood."

"Yeah..." Dean mused thoughtfully. His eyes scanned the patches of blood, drawing a pattern in his mind. "Sammy, see if you can find a roll of tape."

Sam dug through his brother's toolbox as I went to stand beside Dean. "Notice something?"

"Maybe," he offered, holding his hands up to catch the roll of tape Sam had tossed his way. "We'll see in just a minute."

Dean got to work, connecting the patches of blood in a pattern I had never seen before. Hell, I wouldn't have even thought it would make a pattern like that. I chuckled morbidly, thinking that whatever killed Meredith must have been some sort of abstract artist - first the body, now the blood.

Dean stood and surveyed his work, crossing his arms. Sam moved to stand beside him, a puzzled look on his features.

"You ever seen a symbol like that?" Sam inquired, eyes following the sharp corners of the z-like symbol.

"Never," Dean responded curtly.

"Me neither."

—

"He could at least be helping us, Sam," I grumbled, flipping through the worn pages of their father's journal. "Instead of off doing- whatever it is with that poor bartender."

Sam snickered. "He is helping. Meredith worked here, so the bartenders are bound to know her."

"There's a distinct difference between helping us with the case and flirting with some painted bimbo, who we all know he is never going to call," I muttered, resting my chin in the palm of my hand as my eyes lazily scanned the page.

Sam opened his mouth to retort and quickly shut it, seeing Dean make his way back over. My gaze moved quickly toward him and fell right back to the paper. Honestly, the journal was a hell of a lot more interesting than anything Dean had to say.

John was incredibly thorough – he rivaled my uncle, who had always been compulsive and meticulous about his case notes. The journal might look like a mess of pages and hastily scrawled notations, but to me, it showed his dedication.

I flipped another page slowly, tuning out the brothers' conversation. My finger dragged along each line of writing with my eye following closely behind. My eyes fell on a string of numbers and my finger stopped its movement. I exhaled shakily.

I knew those numbers.

"Hey, Sam!" Dean called out, a tight grip on his beer. "Where are you going?"

I lifted my head, staring with a glazed look after Sam as he marched away from the table. Dean turned his confused eyes on me before standing and following his brother.

I looked back at the page, my finger running haphazardly over the string of digits. Why would John have his number..? I tightened my jaw and marked the page so I could find it later and shut the little book, tucking it under my arm and following the brothers. My eyes widened as I noticed Sam talking to a blonde girl, giving her a tense hug. My ears tuned in to their conversation as I stalked up behind Dean.

"Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while," the girl said, fluttering her lashes at Sam. I took a deep breath, ready to interject, and coughed, gagging on air. God, this girl was drenched in perfume, it was blocking all of my other senses.

Dean cleared his throat and patted me lightly on the back. I brushed his hand away and took shallow breaths.

"You're from Chicago?" Sam asked.

"No, Massachusetts – Andover," the girl said with a giggle. "Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"

"Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again." Although his back was turned to me, I could tell he was puzzled. It must have been written all over his features.

"Well, I'm glad you were wrong..." she trailed off and gazed up at Sam from under her lashes. I rolled my eyes. Dean cleared his throat and the girl's eyes snapped to his, a disgusted glare rising on her features. "Dude, cover your mouth."

Dean looked shocked and I suppressed a laugh, for fear of inhaling more of her sharp perfume. God, the girl must have bathed in the stuff. Did the boys really not smell it?

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean," Sam said, scratching the back of his head. The girl, Meg, looked surprised.

"Oh! This is Dean?" she confirmed. Sam nodded and Dean smirked at her.

"So you've heard of me," Dean mused, attempting to be smooth. Now it was Meg's turn to roll her eyes.

"Yeah, I've heard of you," she snapped. "Real nice, how you treat your brother like luggage." Dean’s eyes widened and I stared at Meg in shock. When did Sam even have time to meet this girl without Dean knowing? "Why don't you let him do what he wants?" she continued, spite lacing her words. "Quit dragging him all over God's green earth-"

Sam held up his hands in a silent plea to make her stop. "Meg, it's fine, really, we're fine." The three of them stood there awkwardly, Meg surveying the two, glaring at Dean with contempt and at Sam with an almost overprotective gaze. Her eyes skirted over me, likely because I hadn't been introduced.

I cleared my throat. "I'm, uh- I'm going to get a drink. You want to come with me, Dean?"

"Yeah- yeah," he said, already moving toward the bar. I flashed a sheepish grin toward Sam and Meg, waving goodbye and running to catch up with the elder Winchester. "Damn, that was awkward."

I sat on one of the bar stools, placing John's journal on the counter and running a finger over the spine. "So... when did she and Sam first meet."

Dean scoffed. "Probably after our first real hunt with you, in Kansas. He and I got into a spat and he left for a few days."

I glared at him, clenching my fist and resting it on the counter. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Well, we weren't exactly super close then. It was kind of a family matter, not something for you to stick your snout into."

"You are family, Dean," I hissed. "I have a right to know when these things happen."

He frowned and rested his hands on his lap. We sat in silence for a few minutes, long enough for Dean to get another beer from the bartender and have about a third of it.

"Listen, I-" he started. I cut him off, flipping open his father's journal to my marked page.

"Dean, I found something in the journal earlier, when you first came back to the table." He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something and shut it when I cast him a warning glare. Whatever he wanted to say, I really wasn't in the mood for it. He looked toward his lap bashfully and then his eyes rose to face mine, his jaw tightening.

"Anything relevant to the case?" he asked.

"No," I answered quickly. "But look at this," I slid the journal toward him, highlighting the phone number at the bottom of the page. His eyes flickered toward mine and he raised a brow in confusion. "I recognize this number, Dean. It's-"

"Hey!" called Sam, sauntering back toward us with his cell phone in hand. "You guys ready to head out."

Dean turned to face me, a promise being held in his green eyes. "We'll get back to this later." He stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and following Sam toward the door.

I groaned and dropped my head dramatically on the open journal. "Sure we will..." I muttered to myself. I stood, slamming the journal shut a little more roughly than I intended, and followed the brothers out the door.

"No, man, I mean like our kind of strange," I heard Sam say as I rushed to catch up with the brothers. "Like, maybe even a lead."

"What makes you say that?" Dean probed, sparing me a glance as I jogged up to him.

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?"

Oh. They were still talking about her.

"I don't know," Dean said with a dramatic sigh. "Random coincidence? It happens."

"Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong-"

"Dean," I interrupted Sam. "I think maybe Sam's right. There's something off about her. I mean, did you not smell the buckets of perfume on her? Had me gagging within ten feet of her."

"Perfume doesn't make someone a murder suspect," Dean countered.

"It does if it causes me to choke and die."

"Well, then it's a good thing you're not dead, right?"

"-I'm just saying that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on," Sam added to his unfinished sentence.

"I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" he chuckled and nudged Sam with his shoulder. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?"

Sam rolled his eyes as we stopped on the side of the road, waiting for the go-ahead to walk. "Do me a favor. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor." Sam marched away from Dean and I before his brother could protest.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked as he ran to catch up.

"I'm going to watch Meg."

Dean laughed and clapped Sam on the back. "Yeah, you are!"

Sam grimaced and shrugged Dean's hand off his shoulder. "I just want to see what's what. Better safe than sorry."

The two bickered, Dean teasing Sam, and Sam arguing. I stopped on the sidewalk, watching the brothers make their way toward the Impala, Sam fishing the keys out of his pocket.

I glanced down at the heavy, leather-bound journal in my hands. Something about this case didn't add up. First the weird symbol, and now Meg showing up? Something was wrong, I could feel it. She was hiding something.

Dean called my name from his spot beside the passenger door and I perked up immediately. "You coming or not?"

I nodded and shoved the journal under my arm and crossed the street to where the boys were waiting.

#ugh here comes john winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #x reader #female reader #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on ao3 #supernatural fanfiction #monster reader #monster #original characters #original monster characters #fluff #angst #slow burn

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pinkvaquita · 3 months

Text

In a dream...

♡ Pairing: Pure Vanilla x White Lily

♡ Flavor: Comfort//hurt. Idk how to call it but I guess that works

♡ Warning: None

♡ Author's note: I can fucking belive I'm actually doing this omg-. First fanfic of this whole messI got myself into. I wrote and traduct this half sleep. Hope you enjoy it <3

♡ Aqui tienes la version en español <3

Pure Vanilla was in a place he had never seen before in his life. It was a deep forest in darkness, the sunlight seemed to be unable to penetrate the dense treetops. If under normal conditions he could barely see well what was a short distance from his face, now everything was nothing more than confused shadows surrounding him in every direction.

It was strange. He didn't understand what he was doing there or how he even got there, he didn't even remember it. He also had no idea which path he should take to get out of there, everything looked the same.

He took a deep breath, seeking to remain calm despite the worrying situation in which he had found himself. He closed his eyes to intensify the sensation of pure air entering his body, encountering by surprise a smell that was painfully familiar. White Lilies.

The air left him in a sad sigh, all his sighs were nothing but sadness as she returned to his mind. Especially when he was alone and with nothing to distract himself from a pain that tormented his poor heart, clinging to her for more years than he could count. He turned to the place where his nose told him the smell that meant melancholy to him came from.

He could not imagine the surprise he would feel when, upon managing to locate the exact point, his eyes opened slightly before a tiny but strong source of light. On a group of white lilies, there was a butterfly. Fragile, small, the color of polished silver, but with a brighter light than any firefly.

Pure Vanilla walked gently towards the small insect, observing it with attention and tenderness. Smiling slightly at this one.

The butterfly, after a few seconds of being still, took flight and began to enter the forest. A normal thing for any bug with wings, what was not normal was that when they flapped they sounded like the tinkling of bells. Or that it will leave behind it a path of tiny sparkles like dust. Even less than where it happened, the light it gave off showed more of those sets of white lilies, along with more butterflies with the same appearance and characteristics outside of their nature.

It took him a few seconds to realize that this was a sign, but when his eyes adapted better to the flashing spectacle he was able to understand it. It was a path.

“Where are you directing me?” —he asked without waiting for any answer. He himself had understood that the way to obtain an explanation was to let himself be carried away by curiosity. And a strange feeling that called him to continue.

The forest was still just as dark, but now with the path that opened before him it was impossible to fear. He felt safe and protected by the little guides, even if they could do nothing more than give him light.

The scent of lilies with each step felt more intense the further he went. It would have been overwhelming for anyone, but for him it was a motivation to not give up or stop. Without realizing it, he was running through the forest as if the heavy clothes did not stop him or he was afraid of tripping over a branch. He did not stop even when the trees gradually disappeared, in their place there were now bushes and vines that grew in size until they entirely covered the path.

Advancing through the thick nature was a difficult task. Walking while at the same time removing leaves and branches from your walk as well. But the fresh air that hit him as he left the compressed space there was no comparison to what was in front of him.

It was an entire field of lilies, on the horizon it was difficult to see that there were some other species, but the main one in that area was the variant that he would recognize anywhere. White lilies on the left, white lilies on the right and in the middle...

She was in the center. The light of the moon and the butterflies fluttering around her made her radiant beauty even more captivating to him. She wore the most beautiful white dress he could have imagined her in, as white as the flowers surrounding her and long that trailed on the floor. Oh, she looked like the queen he always thought she was.

“White Lily?”

She didn't respond with words to the call of her name, but the slight smile forming on her face was all Pure Vanilla needed to see to know it was her, to trust that it really was her.

He shouted her name as he ran again. With even more motivation as she began to extend her arms, waiting for him with them open to receive him after what he knew had been years of separation. Of pain. Of betrayal. Of guilt for abandoning her.

And when he finally had her at the tips of his fingers, when he was already rushing towards her with the joy that being together again gave him.

She disappeared into the very air, like the dust of the silver butterflies that brought him there.

And he woke up… alone in his room. Feeling the emptiness in his heart once again. Almost tearing up from how beautiful it was to see her, and how devastated it left him that they were just his dreams again.

#Purelily #white lily cookie #pure vanilla cookie #crk fanfic #happy valentine's day #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #crk #pure vanila is a desperate simp #he probably cried after that #also. Cafekitsune made those beutifull deviders #go check that tumblr if you want them #pure vanilla x white lily #white lily x pure vanilla #fanfic made by pinkvaquita

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sonicfandomsecretsanta · 4 months

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@l-sincline submitted:

Hi @w0lp3rtinger !!! I was so excited to see your name in my inbox lol. I ended up going for a double whammy since I couldn’t help but also write something to go along with what I was thinking while I was drawing… I hope you have an amazing rest of 2023 and an even better 2024!

For one to sleep as deeply as Amy Rose did that night, you had to be up to some serious shenanigans earlier that day. And perhaps she had been. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself they were.

Time and time again she was thrown into danger for the sake of her fellow Mobians, it was a choice she made willingly- right? And yet, sometimes she doubted herself. It would all come crashing back to her, those memories of being a young girl. To be completely honest these days she couldn’t even quite say why she’d become as enamored with Sonic as she had been, it all seemed so distant. He was handsome, sure, but there were plenty of handsome guys out there- plenty that she had fawned over through screens and pages. Perhaps it was that Sonic was tangible. While those stars strutted runways and movie sets and imaginary fantasy lands, Sonic was right in front of her. Even if he was annoyed, even if he was doing his best to disregard her, he was still there– talking to her, listening to her, responding to her.

A younger her must’ve gotten her emotions overwhelmed to have all of that so suddenly all at once. She could only sooth her younger self and say she understood, but she could never completely stop herself from cringing when one of her friends jokingly brought up her old habits.

And that led to today. As of late she’d felt utterly exhausted– could Eggman really never take a vacation? Early morning after early morning, going out with her friends and cleaning up his messes for hours on end. Tails said he must have some big scheme planned. She wasn’t even sure how long this had been going on for– what could Eggman possibly be scheming that would take that long?

It was wearing on her. She felt ragged most nights, too tired to even hop in the shower after a debrief. She’d come home, throw down her bag, kick off her shoes, and plop face first into bed for a night of dreamless sleep. Then she’d get woken from that deep sleep to do it all again. Today it left her feeling particularly woozy.

“You’re not looking great.” Shadow had commented, arms crossed over his chest.

Amy leaned tiredly on the stick of her hammer, watching Sonic and Tails argue back and forth about something. The whole room had been filled with a sort of overwhelming noise from everyone breaking into their own conversations, she hadn’t even noticed Shadow sneak up next to her. Amy sighed,

“I don’t feel so great either.” She confirmed. Shadow hummed.

“Too much fighting? Maybe you should stay back and play command desk for a day or two.”

“It’s not just that…” She admitted awkwardly. Glancing over to the side, she saw Shadow had turned more to look at her.

“Then what?”

She paused for a moment before speaking again, “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“If it’s bothering you, you should talk about it to get it off your mind.”

She laughed, sometimes Shadow seemed to have a fair amount of wisdom when he wasn’t being stand offish. It seemed she had caught him on a good day. Finally, she sighed again.

“I’ve just been thinking about all this lately and it… I don’t know… bugs me? The way that I got into it, I mean.” She looked over and he simply nodded, as if confirming she should go on. “I mean, didn’t I start doing all this just to chase around Sonic? Do I even really want to be doing this? Or am I doing this because I’ve never known anything else? I don’t even like him anymore, but I still drag myself out of bed every morning and come here, is it all routine now or do I actually want to be here?”

Shadow simply hummed again, silent in thought. Amy turned her attention back to Sonic and Tails’ bickering. They didn’t even look tired. How? How did they do it? If they didn’t seem tired wasn’t that a clear indicator that she was the odd one out?

“You know, you once gave me a pretty profound speech on how great it is to save people and why we should do it. I don’t think you just came up with that because you wanted an excuse to chase Sonic around.” Shadow suddenly spoke.

Amy looked over in surprise, cheeks heating.

“I didn’t think you remembered that.”

“Pretty hard to forget.”

They both stood silently looking at each other for a moment before Shadow held out a hand.

“Give me your phone.” He demanded.

“Why?” Amy asked, slowly pulling out her phone and handing it over.

“I’m turning off your alarms. Sleep in tomorrow. I’ll call in some extra help, we’ve got this. Take a break.” After a bit of tapping around, he handed the phone back. Amy smiled slightly,

“Thanks, Shadow.”

And now she lay in bed, eyes closed and face shoved into the pillow, contemplating what Shadow said.

It was true, she had indeed put a fair amount of effort into convincing him to help them out all those years ago on the Arc. And he was right, she did still believe everything she had said back then. Now, she hoped that allowing her body to rest to its full potential might bring some normalcy back to her and snap her out of the funk she’d been in.

Yet, the funk got funkier.

In her dreams, she ran along a treacherous path, a large robotic Eggman monstrosity chased her. Unable to summon her hammer, all Amy could do was run. The trees around her twisted and turned so high into the sky that she couldn’t see their tops, they disappeared into the dusty pink overcast as their dying leaves showered down on her anyways. She fought to catch her breath as she kept running– she didn’t bother screaming, there wouldn’t be anyone else to hear her here.

Eventually her foot caught on a gnarled root, and she tumbled to the ground. Amy groaned and lifted herself, twisting to look up at the robotic monster, she snarled and growled– hoping any sort of ferociousness might scare it away.

No such luck. The creature raised a clawed hand high into the sky and Amy’s eyes widened, she raised an arm to cover her head and waited for the impact.

Suddenly, a flash of light.

The creature cried out in pain as it seemed to turn to dust before her very eyes. Her hero’s silhouette against the now appearing sun. She squinted and lowered her arm as he turned and leaned over her, moving to pick her up.

“Shadow?” She spoke aloud, bewildered.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He seemed to disregard her confusion, leaning in carefully to inspect her. She blushed– hard.

“Wha- why are you in my dream?”

“I’ll take you home. Everything will be okay now.” The dream Shadow had ignored her once again. She was lifted off the ground and into his arms.

Amy was silent. She watched as the dream apparition of Shadow carried her stoically along the path, eyes trained in front of him. He wasn’t real, and yet he felt so unbelievably real. She could feel him breath, she could feel his grasp change as he shifted her in his arms to be more comfortable, the long fur on his chest tickled her nose.

In the blink of an eye, he had carried her to her own bedroom. She couldn’t even remember leaving the forest. He lay her gently on the bed before climbing up and sitting with her, holding her head in his lap and brushing hands gently over her quills. As she gazed up at him, she noticed he looked peaceful.

“When you wake, I may not be there with you. But you can always find me here, if you need to.”

Amy was confused, why was dream Shadow so cryptic? She had a million questions she wanted to ask, all of them at the tip of her tongue waiting to spill over. But against her will, sleep pooled into her mind. It weighed down her eyelids and slowed her breathing, and as the dream Shadow’s gentle caress of her quills continued, she was lulled into sleep.

Upon waking, Amy ended up only having one question:

“What the hell was that?”

#gift #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #submission

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fluffypotatey · 6 months

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heyyy isnt it wild how when characters say that mk "literally never listens" that is Also a case of unreliable narration. mk listens a lot actually!! he listens to macaque's "you don't use a weapon, you ARE the weapon" monologue in 1x09. he listens to mac again in shadow play (since he was able to quote back the "then be a warrior!" bit). actually now that i think of it there are a lot lot lot of times when mk deliberately echoes someone else's dialogue and clearly he had to have been listening to them and internalizing it bc otherwise he wouldnt be able to repeat it (things like "chose the wrong successor," "to pain," and "harbinger of chaos" come to mind). the thing is tho that mk usually tends to listen to + internalize things that hurt him or otherwise confirm his own fears. so its actually worse in the long run for him!! :D

imagine you are MK. most of your life before this whole story began was you working under Pigsy, your boss/dad, and hanging out with Mei, your best friend in the world.

constantly, you will have Pigsy screaming up a storm about employee etiquette and how MK should clock in on time and “if you ever come to work late again, i’ll fire you!” or you have Tang telling you beautiful stories in exchange for free food because every tale he spins is magical and adventurous. or you have Mei who is a little bit like the little devil on your shoulder egging you on to another game or arcade or movie or outing because both of you never truly had a friend until you met each other and never know when to end your time hanging out.

and we see this in the second episode of season 1, where MK feels pulled in every direction with his job, spending time with Mei, helping out Sandy, and training with the Monkey King. EVEN BY S1 HE IS AT THE END OF HIS ROPE!!! And did anybody truly notice????? DID THEY????

and yeah, Pigsy, Mei, and Minky King are the big contenders for telling MK he isn’t listening, and honestly MK does have a problem with understanding the intent and meaning behind what his friends are saying as he’ll only take in the superficial. however, when it comes to the most stressful and dire times, MK is all ears.

he absolutely understood LBD’s words when she put him and his self worth down, he understood Macky’s ire and vitriol (and was able to piece together that most of Macky’s words are a shield), he understood SWK’s aversion for allowing MK and the gang’s help with finding the rings because of their mortality

here is my assumption of what MK is learning from the people around him (bc my personal headcanon is that MK learns and understands how to behave and react from the people in his circle):

he’s learning that his friends’ needs are more important than his own

he has learned that a lot of his worries are meaningless because they typically get brushed off

in addition to that, he learned that if he has any issues, it would be better to keep them to himself because it truly is no big deal and will find some resolution eventually

he learns that nobody is fully certain he can do things on his own

he learns that many people (the villains) believe he’s someone they can mold into their own

MK is internalizing a lot of shit. and we see a snippet of that behavior I think in s3 where he bemoans about not being good enough for SWK and Pigsy’s is like “woah, wait a minute….did that asshole really say that to you???”

and the thing is, Wukong didn’t say that nor would he ever intend to say something that would make MK think little about himself; however, Wukong has his own issue of never elaborating on shit, so while he may have said “listen, bud, this journey is super dangerous and life threatening, and you’re still mortal so it would be best if you stayed here” what MK heard was “since you’re still a weak mortal, this mission isn’t cut out for you”

and yeah it just eloquently shows how MK internalizes the worst of people’s words (hey, like mentor like student, am I right? 👀) which is why it is so easy for the antagonists to creep into his head (LBD, Mac, Azure, Ink!MK, possibly PIF???)

but yeah, what you said, bestie

#my voice is gone T^T #caput #anyway #love when characters internalize their issues and words others have said about them #MK needs to talk it out #will he? idk #lmk #lmk mk #lmk qi xiaotian #asks

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nights-flying-fox · 1 year

Text

finding your stellar association

Moving Group, also called a Stellar Association.

A loose grouping of stars which travel together through space.

On their first trip to Earth, the brothers find a lost part of their family.

✨️ Click here to read on AO3 ♡

🌙 Celestial AU by @ashwii

☄️ 2,916 words || rottmnt au

☀️ based on/inspired by this ask

"I don't think this is working." Raph whispered.

"You kidding? This is working just fine!" Leo replied.

"I'm pretty sure people noticed something's off." Raph said, glancing around.

"Relaaaax big guy, just enjoy our trip in the city that never sleeps." Leo said in a laid back manner.

Raph sighed but said nothing more as Leo stepped forward, taking the lead and turning to face his brothers as he walked backward. "Raph, please, if someone had suspected anything, we wouldn't be walking around freely like that." He pointed out. "Also even if they did, we'd still be fine. We're immortal!"

"Somewhat immortal." Donnie corrected him without looking away from the scenery around them. The skyscrapers and the giant screens with bright lights had magnified Donnie. They never had the chance to see them like this from their home. Though Leo understood his enthusiasm and shared it a bit, he was still bitter seeing the light pollution.

"It's almost the same thing." Leo shrugged. "What matters right now is our perfect surprise to April."

"We'll blow her mind!" Mikey exclaimed as he jumped by Leo's side. He wrapped one arm around Leo's shoulders and began walking backward as well.

"Definitely, her expression will be priceless." Leo grinned.

Raph swiftly scooped them up, holding them from their shells with ease, while being careful to not rip their clothes. He didn't want to lose time by going through another search for clothes that would fit and hide their... well, whole situation. "Will you two stop walking so carelessly? You'll trip and fall into a sewer or something." He scolded them. "This isn't space, this is New York."

"Thanks for the reminder, Raph."

He glared at Leo, knowing well he could see Raph's expression even though shadows covered his face thanks to his hoodie. Without thinking twice, he dropped Leo and kept walking with Mikey in his left hand.

While Leo yelped, Mikey cheered, "Free ride!"

Donnie ignored his twin as he kept walking, other than snorting at his fall. "Raph, are you sure we're on the right track?" Then he asked, eyes still glued to everything around them.

"Yeah, I have seen her walking to her apartment. More than once." The eldest replied, thinking of the days he'd try to make his friend's tiring days better with the perfect sunny weather.

"I know, and I saw her walking to her apartment too during some nights-"

"Don't underestimate yourself, Dee. We all know it's not just nights but days too, as our dear insomniac brother." His twin cut him with a smirk.

"Shut up, Leo." Donnie glared at him. "You are as guilty as I am. Anyways, what I was saying is that seeing the planet like this" -he gestured at himself to emphasize his point- "is much different than the way we watched this planet from up there."

"I know, but trust me we're not lost." Raph said.

"I trust you, Raph, but I was thinking maybe using public transport for our favors wouldn't be bad." Donnie offered.

Ah, so this is what he actually wants, Raph thought. "We're not using the subway."

"But Raph-"

"We can explore human things later." Raph stated. "Our priority is finding April. Then we can do whatever we want."

Donnie huffed but didn't say anything else. He had gotten distracted by something else once again quickly. Raph kept an eye on him, just like how he kept an eye on Leo and Mikey too. This was their first time on Earth's surface, so it was better to be careful. Something his brothers were not good at doing. He constantly had to be sure that Donnie didn't steal something that caught his attention, Mikey didn't accidentally trip and fall, and Leo-

Raph gave a startled yelp with the sudden weight on his shell. He turned quickly, only to see Leo. "What in the name of Venus are you doing on my back?"

"Simple, I wanted a free ride too." Leo answered as if it was the most normal thing ever. "No fire shell means possibly perfect traveling spot."

"Is it comfortable?" Mikey asked.

"Yep." Leo answered.

"I bid for the next shell ride." Mikey announced.

Raph rolled his eyes. Leo's weight was barely noticeable now. He kinda liked it, even. It wasn't like he could hold his brothers close before, and just like Leo mentioned, his shell wasn't on fire, and he wasn't ablaze like in his actual form-

His eyes grew with realization.

Raph, the celestial being and protector of the Sun, could hug his brothers with no issue like this.

And his first victim was Donnie. He pulled Donnie into a hug with his free arm, causing his brother to yelp with confusion. He also pulled Mikey into a proper hug. The two brothers looked at him confusedly, while Raph smiled widely. Leo had a knowing smile on his face and wrapped his arms around his big brother's neck.

"What's happening?" Donnie asked, trapped in Raph's arms.

"That's called hugging, Donnie." Leo informed helpfully.

"I know that, I don't understand why now we're hugging."

"Because this hug is different." Raph said happily. "No eclipse, no melting, no burning."

Donnie and Mikey's faces lightened up with realization.

Mikey immediately wrapped his arms around Raph's arm, "You're a genius!" he exclaimed. Donnie gave an offended gasp, and Leo laughed with joy. He wasn't sure if the happiness was simply because he enjoyed his brothers' antics or because of Raph's infectious (literally, considering how Leo could feel his emotions sometimes) joy.

They had forgotten they were standing on the pavement until someone bumped at them. To be fair they were taking the back streets to be sure no one noticed them, hiding in the shadows. And yet, Raph looked down only to be met with a really short person.

"Oh, pardon me." Raph apologized, stepping back. He didn't notice the trash bins behind him, which he (and his brothers) fell into.

The stranger only could watch as the boys immediately squirmed out of the trash pile. Leo's face was in disgust, Donnie looked like he was going to throw up, and Mikey casually shook all the trash off him. Raph groaned at the smell, "April will not like this surprise."

They all seemed to have forgotten about their disguise and about the stranger until they heard a weak whisper:

"My sons?.."

The brothers, with a mix of panic and confusion, suddenly remembered the stranger. After a second of silence, "Excuse me, what?" Leo asked.

"How... what..?" The man whispered again, looking as confused as they were.

"Sir, I think you're mixing us up with someone else." Raph said, trying to stay calm.

"Definitely, with some other teenagers with greenish skin-" Donnie started but couldn't finish when Leo elbowed and glared at him. "-which is certainly because of all of this trash. Definitely." Donnie quickly added, trying to save the situation.

"You're turtles." The stranger stated.

"See, you ruined everything." Leo glared at Donnie.

"It's you who doesn't have his hoodie anymore." The twin with the purple moon-themed hoodie retorted.

Leo gasped and looked at himself, realizing that Donnie was right.

Mikey giggled while Raph tried hard to not push them back to the trash bin.

"You..." The small man's whispers turned to soft sobs, gaining their attention again.

Now, they may be celestial beings in disguise of mortals (kind of) with great power, but when it came to comforting a stranger, the only thing the boys could do was stare at him or look at each other in hopes someone knew what exactly to do.

In short, they didn't know what to do.

Mikey walked towards the man, putting a hand on his shoulder, "There, there..." he said comfortingly. Then turned to his brothers in a scolding manner, "I can't believe you guys made an old man cry!"

"O-old man?!" The stranger stuttered in an offended way, turning his head to face Mikey.

That was when Mikey saw that the man was not exactly a man, but a rat... rat-man? He gasped, "OMIGOSH ARE YOU LIKE US?"

"What do you mean like- IS HE A RAT?" Raph said, maybe a little too loudly, once he joined Mikey's side.

Both were hit in the face with the rat-man's tail. "You boys need a lesson on manners." He scolded as he wiped his tears. Then he smiled softly, looking at each of them one by one, "But I think it is right to say I am like you. Sort of."

"What, no, how? We never heard of another celestial being. We've been around for years! There is no way I or Leo or any of us could miss out on someone else out there." Donnie circled the man, no more uncomfortable around him. Instead, his eyes shined with interest toward the new information and person.

"Celestial beings? Oh, no, boys. You are wrong." The stranger shook his head with a sheepish smile.

"Then what are you?" Donnie asked.

"A mutant."

"What's a mutant?" Mikey asked this time.

"Me, and you?"

"No, we're not mutants. We'd know if we were mutants." Leo said, getting more and more confused by the passing seconds.

"Then what are you?" The rat-man asked, raising a brow.

"Uh, celestial beings. Protectors of space stuff." Leo answered. "You know... stars, moon, sun, comets..."

The stranger looked at them as if they had grown another head. He looked confused, then like he was grieving, and then strangely relieved. Finally, he sighed. "We can talk about it later. Now, I believe I never introduced myself. I am Splinter."

Raph shook his hand. "I am Raph, this is Mikey," -Mikey waved- "Leo," -Leo smiled- "and Donnie." -Donnie nodded.

"Nice to meet you, boys." Splinter smiled. Something told Leo that smile hid more emotions.

"Since we have met, may you explain why you called us your sons now?" Donnie interrupted.

All the eyes turned to Splinter, awaiting an answer. He was clearly hurt, but also there was a small piece of joy sparkling in his eyes. "Of course, but it would be better if we talked about it somewhere else." He looked around him. Right, they were still standing on the pavement. "Somewhere safer would be much better."

For some reason, Raph trusted him. Something about the way he looked at them, the way he talked... it was comforting. Almost familiar. Almost. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I know somewhere we could talk." He said. "A friend... I bet she wouldn't mind."

☆☆☆

"You brought a stranger?!" April whisper-yelled.

"I wouldn't call him a stranger." Leo said, looking back at the living room his brothers and Splinter were chilling in.

"Leo, you literally met the guy half an hour ago!"

He turned his attention back to her, "Look. I know it sounds weird, but I feel like I know this guy."

She huffed, leaning on the kitchen counter. "It does sound weird, Leonardo."

Eugh boy, she's using full names.

"Maybe he is just a guy you saw while watching Earth on a nice night."

"No, April, this is different." Leo insistent. "Way too different."

April looked towards the living room, "I can't believe you manage to come for a visit with a 'trick' you figured out and on your first trip you end up befriending a stranger who calls you his sons and bring him into my apartment ." She looked back at him tiredly. "Have you ever heard of 'stranger danger' by any chance?"

"Aww, come on April. You're happy that we are here, aren't you? So what if we got company, it's fine." He pulled her into a side hug. "If he does anything bad, we can handle it."

"If he does anything bad, I am throwing you all out of my window." She stated.

"Isn't it a bit brutal?"

"With my bat." She added.

"Gee, okay, okay." Leo moved away with his hands up. "You win. Now, can we listen to his tale?"

April sighed, "Alright. Let's hear what rat-man has to say."

Leo beamed with a wide grin.

"And you better take a bath, you all stink!" She gagged as they walked towards the living room.

"Priorities, April. Priorities." Leo sang.

She rolled her eyes.

In the living room, Splinter was sipping from the tea April had offered him. A stranger he may be, he still was her guest. Meanwhile, the boys had sat on the couch, facing Splinter, who sat on the chair. There was an awkward quiet in the room, but Leo wouldn't call it an uncomfortable one.

"Alright, we all are here and ready." Leo announced, sitting on the couch's arm. April leaned against the wall, standing next to him. "You can start your tale."

Splinter took a breath. Then he began talking. He talked about the years he fought as a movie star and then as a Battle Nexus champion (whatever that meant, the boys didn't know). He told them how a yokai-

"What's a yokai?" Mikey interrupted, gaining a shush! from the others. Yet Splinter explained to them that the yokai were people who looked similar to them since birth.

Then he continued to explain that a yokai named Draxum caused the whole mess. "He wanted to mutate… mutate four turtles." Splinter said, words as if they hurt him physically, grimaced. It wasn't hard to guess this memory was painful for him. "You." He gestured at them. "He believed with my DNA, you'd be the perfect warriors. For what, I do not know exactly. I disagreed and fought against him. Things… got out of control pretty fast." He looked down at his hands. There was a moment of silence. None of the boys or April talked, giving him the time to gain the strength to continue.

Finally, Splinter talked again, "I ended up like this. A mutant."

"And the turtles?" Mikey asked.

"They… they didn't make it out… alive." Splinter shut his teary eyes tightly. Then he opened them to look at the celestials with a new emotion. "At least, I thought so until tonight."

"But how can we be them?" Donnie questioned. "It doesn't make sense."

"I'd recognize you no matter what. I don't know how, but you're them. Even your names, they're the same." Splinter's voice was excited, and he smiled widely. "Raphael, Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo. The names of the four Renaissance painters."

"You're telling me you named mutated turtles after Renaissance painters?" Leo asked with a smile.

"Yes, for reasons. But that's unimportant. What is important is, do you know how you got your names?" Splinter leaned towards the boys with determined eyes. He knew he could prove the truth. He had to.

Leo opened his mouth and then closed it. Noticing he had no answer, he turned to Raph. He was the oldest of them, he'd know this, right? But Raph looked as lost as he was.

"I never thought how we always knew our names actually." Raph revealed. "I just knew mine and yours my whole life."

"See? And I believe you have some knowledge of fighting, correct?" Splinter asked.

April answered instead of them this time, "Surprisingly, they know some fighting moves." Then she turned to them. "You never explained where you learned them or how you ended up with your weapons."

Raph looked lost once again. "Fighting is more of an instincts thing." He admitted.

"But our weapons are inspired by our observation of humans." Mikey chimed in.

"What even this has to do with all of this?" Donnie turned to Splinter.

"Draxum created you using my DNA so he could have the perfect fighters." Splinter explained. "The perfect warriors." He repeated.

"And you're a fighter, right." Donnie was putting the pieces together, still unbelievingly.

"See? How else would I know all of that?" Splinter laughed, even though his boys looked uncertain.

Until Mikey's face lit up with realization as if he remembered something he had forgotten, a memory buried deep down. Something from a long time ago. "You are the one that wished for a chance for his lost sons." He gasped. Everyone turned to look at him. "Please, give them another chance in life. Let their souls live the life they deserved, and..."

"... wherever they are, let them be happy." Splinter finished with tears in his eyes once again. "Raphael, Donatello, Leonardo, Michelangelo, my sons."

The gap between the silence and loud exclamations was no longer than a millisecond.

Mikey ran and hugged Splinter, holding him tightly. Raph was laughing while Donnie smiled and teared up, and Leo was speaking about how he couldn't believe all of this.

"First we get a sister," He gestured to April, who in return smiled at him with equal excitement, "and now a dad! What are the chances of this?"

"Life's full of surprises." April sang.

Leo grinned at her. "It sure is."

He suddenly got pulled into the hug with April by none other than the eldest turtle. Donnie was already a part of it, and Leo could see how he seemed to like it.

And while none of them said, the boys felt something missing in their lives being filled. They knew the hug was right. Being together with Splinter- their dad!- and April was right. This was right. They knew it.

That night the stars glowed brighter, and so did the moon. There was an unexpected comet passing by Earth. The next morning the sun had never been this bright and warm, yet not tiringly hot. It was like everything was right. Everything was perfect.

#its short but i think i wrote good?#i like how it turned out :] hope you'll like it too #this au makes me very happy #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt celestial au #what was my writing tag again???#uh oh #i forgor #im either too good with titles or too bad if you cant tell #ooh also yeah new fic format bc i want my posts to be pretty hehe #aaand im rabling in tags again bye ✨️#hurt/comfort #maybe???#it gets emotional #fluff #Implied/Referenced Character Death #but not really #nighty write y

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