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munson-blurbs · 5 months

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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: News from an old friend had you wondering if Eddie's sour mood had turned downright destructive. (4.9k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, misunderstanding, coming out, vandalism, parental conflict, poverty, jealousy, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter seven: offense and defense

Your version of a truce came in the form of wallpaper panels and a bucket of glue.

You’d placed it on top of the canvas sheets that would protect the floor from any spills, though it wasn’t as if that was presentable, either. Still, you would be grateful for the splash of color rather than the stripped down walls that only highlighted the motel’s defeated aesthetic.

Like lipstick on a pig, your cynicism taunted, but one that you’ve stuck on a spit to roast.

Your fingernail picked at a small groove in the desk’s wood as if digging a hole to bury your anxiety. Despite the police sirens blaring in the distance, all you could hear was the sound of the mailbox clanging shut, trapping your acceptance letter and effectively sealing your fate.

Your breathing sped up and sent your heartbeat into your ears, inching you towards a point of no return where the world became hazy. Suddenly, Eddie’s mood was irrelevant; you just needed a distraction, even if that meant contending with his strangely defensive attitude.

But when eleven o’clock rolled around, a full hour into your shift. there was still no sign of him. You’d give him another thirty minutes before you knocked on his door; he had a job to finish, after all.

That was all it was: ensuring he earned his keep, preventing him from becoming the deeply feared charity case.

In the end, there was no need to intrude on him. Eddie shuffled through the lobby not even fifteen minutes later, seemingly without the intention of stopping to greet you. He looked straight ahead as though any eye contact would burn his retinas from the inside out. His tattooed arms were on full display in a black tank top, the holes cut down nearly to the waist. A chain hung off the side of his jeans, gleaming even in the harsh lighting. The whole outfit was a far cry from the sweatpants he’d donned during the wallpaper removal.

“Eddie?”

He stopped but still refused to glance in your direction. There was no use ignoring the confusion in your voice; he didn’t even bother waiting for the formality of a question. “Y-Yeah, I, um…I gotta run some errands.” His teeth dug into the inside of his cheek at his pitiful excuse.

Errands just before midnight? He certainly wasn’t dressed to make a last-minute dash to the corner bodega, nor would that take all night.

He was lying; that much was obvious. What evaded you was why. Was he embarrassed about his outburst at Eisen’s? Angry at you for freezing him out during the ride home?

“What about the wallpaper?”

“Oh. Right.” He softly chuckled, the kind that someone gives when they’ve been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

He didn’t stick around for further questioning, letting in a cool evening breeze when he barreled out the front door.

Aggravation clenched your fists. His lackadaisical approach to work was infuriating enough, but the way he’d attempted to sneak past you had you seething. Did he truly believe he could camouflage himself and walk out unnoticed?

The untouched wallpapering materials mocked you, taunted your optimism. Or perhaps it was naivety. You’d all but told him to piss off last night, yet you expected him to flounce into the lobby, eager to work alongside you–and only you–for the next few hours? The thought alone was so pathetic that you were glad no one else had been around to witness it.

You hoisted the panels and glue back to the supply closet, gripping them with palms slick from embarrassment and frustration. Tonight could have been an opportunity to clear the air about the Ben fiasco and resume your usual lighthearted conversations. His brusque laughter didn’t showcase the subtle dimples that pressed from the corners of his mouth into his cheeks, so unlike the genuine smiles that reached his eyes. Those warm eyes like chocolate chips on a summer day, except they melted you with each foray into his past, each glimpse into what made him, him.

Without them, the night was stagnant.

Amy’s Cafe was a favorite among the student population, especially during finals week. The coffee was usually burnt or weak, but it was cheap and conveniently located near campus, so it stayed afloat. Overworked baristas slid filled-to-the-brim mugs and to-go styrofoam cups to the edge of the counter, hissing espresso machines punctuating the pop music that was piped through the sound system. Exactly the kind of music Eddie would hate.

Eddie. He must have had an extensive errand list, because he still hadn’t returned when your shift ended. Your chest ached with a sadness that burned hotter than your curiosity. You no longer cared what he was up to, just that he preferred it to spending time with you.

Ben already sat at a small table when you arrived, the steam from his cup rising up and fogging his wire-rimmed glasses. He offered you a weary smile, one wrought with fatigue and a nervousness you couldn’t quite place.

It wasn’t until you plopped into the seat across from him, careful not to spill your own coffee, that you noticed the gray crescents below his eyes that weren’t there on Sunday. Stubble coated his cheeks and chin, more five o’clock shadow than beard, and you were hard-pressed to remember a time he’d seemed this disheveled.

“You look like shit.”

He raised his brows as he blew on his tea, sending tiny ripples through the citrusy-mint blend. “You sure know how to flatter a guy.”

Between the usual end-of-semester stress and whatever issues were simmering between you and Eddie, you lacked the patience to beat around the bush. “Seriously,” you insisted, “what’s wrong?”

Ben’s sigh held immeasurable weight, and you quickly understood why. “Eisen’s was vandalized last night,” he said quietly.

“What?!” Your blood ran cold. The mental image of the always-pristine shop abruptly destroyed marred your psyche.

He nodded. “Yeah. We empty the register at night and put the cash in a safe, so they didn’t get any of that,” he explained, a small consolation. “But they smashed the windows and graffitied the place. All of the shelves, our whole inventory…covered in it.”

“Is everyone…is your family okay?” If the alarm had sounded and Uncle Mo or Aunt Tam came running in…if the intruder was carrying a weapon…

“We’re fine,” Ben assured you. “I mean, we’re all pretty shook up, but no one’s hurt.” His bottom teeth scraped along his upper lip. “I swept up most of the broken glass after the cops left, but it’s gonna take a while to scrub off the spray paint.”

“I can help,” you volunteered without hesitation. “I can swing by on Thursday afternoon.” There were no formal classes this week; you just had to drop off your paper and then you could go to the shop.

“Thanks.” Ben kept his attention focused on his mug, dunking the bag aimlessly through the hot liquid. “Um, was your, uh, boyfriend with you last night?” When you wrinkled your nose, he elaborated. “That Eddie guy. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

You shook your head and tried to ignore the internal fluttering spurred on by the thought of Eddie being your boyfriend. “No. He just works for us.” Thirty-six hours ago, you would have referred to him as a friend, but you didn’t know if that was still true.

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “You sure? Because he seemed pretty…” He searched for the right word, “...territorial over you.”

Territorial. As if you belonged to him. The notion was almost humorous, considering his desperation to avoid you at all costs. If you were his property, he must be a very hands-off landlord.

“It’s not like that. He just gets competitive.” You filled Ben in on the wasp nest saga, even managing to pull a few chuckles out of him.

“Okay, fine.” Something in Ben’s tone informed you that he didn’t quite believe you, but he pressed on, both of you well-aware that your love life wasn’t the most urgent issue. “But was he around last night? Hanging the wallpaper or something?”

He wasn’t. You wished more than anything that you could offer an alibi, but you didn’t have a clue where he was.

It’s a big city; there were millions of places he could go besides Eisen’s. And yet you couldn’t name a single one, your throat bone-dry despite just taking a sip of coffee.

“N-No, but he wouldn’t—”

“I’m not saying he did,” Ben interjected, firmly but not unkindly. “It’s just, I dunno, a little suspicious that this guy comes to our shop for the first time, hates my guts for some reason, and then the place gets destroyed the next day.”

There was no denying how strange it was, especially coupled with his poorly explained absence. Something inside you insisted that it wasn’t Eddie, and you clung onto that hope.

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” Bitterness churned in your stomach and crept up your throat, and you knew it wasn’t from the coffee. Was there anything about the way he’d been dressed that provided insight into his whereabouts? Anything he’d mentioned in passing?

Despite scouring the depths of your brain, you came up empty.

Ben exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut like he was actively trying to forget the memory of the break-in. “Everything was completely smashed. Like someone took a baseball bat to it or something.”

You flashed back to last week when Eddie went after the wasp’s nest with Phyllis’s bat. Did he ask her to borrow it again?

Stop it, you silently scolded yourself. It couldn’t have been Eddie. He might be hotheaded, but that didn’t mean he would destroy Eisen’s.

Except he had trashed that hotel room because the manager issued a noise complaint. He’d seemed proud of it, laughing as he retold the story, like he’d carried out some meticulously crafted revenge plot.

Shit.

“You’re sure there’s nothing going on between you two?” Ben asked again, ripping open another sugar packet and dumping it into his drink.

“Positive.” Certainly not now when you were barely on speaking terms.You didn’t have time for a relationship; school and work kept you sufficiently busy.

Not that you wanted anything going on with Eddie. What would you even do together–go on dates at six AM after your shift? Hold hands across the lobby desk? Steal kisses in the supply closet? The two of you making out amongst piles of linens and a rusty toolbox? Your fingers tangled in his hair and your lips pressed to his; his hands gripping your waist and tugging you impossibly close? You couldn’t allow yourself to even consider it a possibility, to allow yourself to want it.

You noticed Ben giving you a wry smile, like he knew something you didn’t, and you snapped back into reality to volley a question back to him. “What about you? Meet any cute girls in dental school?”

His unexpected cloudiness didn’t match your breezy, teasing tone. “No cute girls.” He paused, mulling over his words for a while before talking again, so softly you could barely hear him over the muzak playing over the café’s sound system. “There were some cute guys, though.”

The admission hung in the air for a moment while you slowly absorbed it. Cute guys, not girls. So Ben was—

A soft throat clearing grabbed your attention; he was anxiously awaiting your response.

Reaching your hand across the Formica table, you draped your fingers over his and left them there. “How did you…know?” You winced at your own awkwardness. “Sorry, I meant, like, is this something you figured out recently? Or did you know back when we were kids?”

Ben laughed lightly, his shoulders sagging with relief. The worry of rejection left his eyes as he spoke. “Part of me always knew, I think. I just didn’t have a word for it.” He sighed, his breath trembling with residual nerves. “It’s not like we grew up talking about these things.”

He was right; you couldn’t recall a single time that his parents or yours discussed non-heterosexual romantic relationships. A man and a woman get married and have babies. The end. No mention of when two men or two women love one another.

“Have you told your parents?”

“No.” His voice caught, throat blocked with emotion, and he cleared it again. “I wanted to wait until I finished school and got my own place. Y’know…just in case.”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence.

“Would they really do that?”

He shrugged, his shoulders once again bearing the weight of the unknown. “I don’t think they’d kick me out,” he admitted, “but they’d definitely be disappointed. Like they did something wrong.”

“You know you can always stay with me if you need,” you said. “I’ll set aside a room for you.” Far away from Eddie’s, you added silently.

Ben’s smile was tight but genuine. “After all of these years, nothing’s changed.” He let out a hoarse laugh. “Does it get exhausting, being the best person ever?”

He was joking, trying his best to shift to a lighter tone, but the accuracy of his question had you temporarily reeling. You weren’t the best person ever, but it was exhausting constantly trying to be. He must have sensed that he grazed a nerve, his eyes softening as he leaned in. “You okay?”

You nodded, your head suddenly acquiring the heft of a boulder. The sound of the mailbox clanging shut and sealing your fate reverberated in your ears. And then Eddie had seen, had cleaned your smudged mascara so warmly that your skin simmered at his touch. Those same fingers might have grasped a can of spray paint or and wielded a bat with the intention of ravaging an innocent business.

“You always were a terrible liar.” Ben said. He knew you too well, a blessing and a curse. “C’mon—a secret for a secret.”

His permission had your own confession slipping from where it had been tucked away and spilling into the conversation. “I’m majoring in psychology and I’m going to study social work at NYU.” When Ben offered you a confused look, you humbly elaborated. “And, I mean, I know it’s not the same thing as your situation, but I haven’t told my parents about it either.”

The shame burned you, flames nipping at your neck.

Ben drummed his fingers against the mug’s handle, his nails making a soft cling. “The motel…” he trailed off, mutual understanding replacing the rest of his words.

Neither of you said anything else for a while, only taking small sips of coffee until you mustered up the energy to speak again.

“I don’t think they’d kick me out either,” you said, “but that might not matter. Without me to take over, they’d have to sell the place anyway.”

Ben thought for a moment. A teardrop of coffee trickled down the lip to the base, staining the white porcelain with a hazel streak. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you.” It was his turn to hold your hand, enveloping it in the comfort that can only come from a lifelong friend. “And if worse comes to worst, you can always bunk with me. As long as Eddie won’t mind,” he added with a mischievous edge.

You rolled your eyes as the heaviness evaporated. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He raised his brows. “You didn’t see the look on his face when I hugged you. I thought he was gonna knock me into tomorrow.”

“Whatever,” you said evenly, swiftly pivoting the subject to his own romantic endeavors. But the image of Eddie getting upset when Ben hugged you tugged at your mind for the rest of the conversation. You’d initially thought he was irritated about Ben encroaching on his job, but the hug came well before the offer to help.

Trying to figure out Eddie Munson, you realized, was like jamming a puzzle piece where it didn’t belong. He would remain an enigma until you found the right spot.

Afternoon bled into night, the overcast skies resulting in a noticeable absence of stars. Rain had been threatening to fall all day, but the humidity still bogged down the clouds when Eddie walked into the lobby at ten-thirty.

“Hey,” he said, raising one hand in an enthusiastic half-wave. His eyes met yours for only a second before pulling away. “I’ll just grab the paper from the supply closet.”

You tossed him the key and he caught it, clenching it in his palm. He smiled, victoriously but fleetingly once he realized it wasn’t being returned. Defeated, he trudged over to the closet. You normally would have followed and helped, but you were held down by what you knew–what you might know, you reminded yourself.

“You, uh, didn’t set up,” he said, shaking out the drop cloth and positioning it against the molding.

“Didn’t know if you had another secret errand to run.” The retort left your lips before you could stop it, and you pinched them together in a belated attempt to quell your anger.

Eddie bristled, his brush halfway in the vat of glue, but he quickly composed himself and got back to work. You focused your attention on your essay, scanning it for the millionth time in search of misplaced commas or missing words.

Perfect. It needed to be perfect.

Silence once again overtook the motel lobby, broken only by the sounds of Eddie slicing the wallpaper at the edges, not bothering to measure before adhering it to the exposed plaster, and the outside traffic.

You were comfortable with the prolonged quiet, though admittedly less so than before Eddie arrived a few weeks ago, but it must have gnawed at him. He started humming after only fifteen minutes, an unfamiliar tune, smooth in some places and staccato in others.

“Are you still mad at me or something?”

You loathed the way his voice startled you, your mind too deeply buried in your paper. It caused you to look up and lock eyes with him. His question was wrought with frustration, though you couldn’t tell if it was directed at you or at his own inability to decipher the situation.

“No.” Yes.

Eddie sighed and continued working. “Well, if you change your mind, just know that I’m sorry.”

His apology brought back memories of his previous attempt—though ‘attempt’ might be overstating it, and you didn’t want to bite back your response. “It isn’t me you need to apologize to.”

He didn’t bother turning to you when he spoke. “You’re talking about that Bill guy?”

“Ben,” you corrected him, willing yourself to unclench your jaw, “and yes. You were rude to him for no reason.” You pushed aside Ben’s explanation, an improbability in itself.

“I had a reason.” Venom dripped from each word. “Trust me, I could’ve done worse things than hurt his feelings.”

And as his grip tightened around the brush, one bluish vein bulging in his forearm, you remembered how gleeful he’d admitted to trashing the hotel. How Ben had said that Eisen’s looked as though someone took a baseball bat to it.

“The store was vandalized last night.”

All of the oxygen in the room evaporated. Eddie’s unamused chuckle, low in his throat, fissured the silent tension and made it palpable. Real. “And you think I did it.”

“I never said that.”

But you and he both knew that you didn’t have to; the slight tremor in your voice giving away your true intentions. Even if you weren’t outright accusing him, your tone had too much bite to be conversational.

He threw the brush to the ground and it landed against the cloth with an audible thud. “Whatever.” Another grim laugh, each step towards the desk had your heart sinking further into your chest. “Y’know, I’ve already had a pretty shitty week, and I thought talking to you could turn it around. Should’ve known better.” He wiped his palms on his blue jeans and procured a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lighting one and taking a long drag.

You could only imagine the restraint it took for him not to exhale a cloud of smoke directly in your face.

It was a replay of the situation with Izzy’s mother, the assumptions that steeled you against her before you’d ever met and had you painting her as a neglectful parent. Her palpable worry was a slap across your face, and you felt that same sting now with Eddie.

Ruined it. With one stupid comment, you’d obliterated all of the trust built between you.

“Excuse me, but I have a very busy evening ahead of me,” he said, pointing the cigarette in your direction like an accusation of his own. “I’m supposed to commit arson in fifteen minutes, and if I have time, I might just murder someone.”

No doubt you were at the top of his list.

The realization of your mistake released an anchor of guilt down your stomach. You should have trusted your instincts, should have immediately eschewed any notion that he was the culprit.

You hated yourself for even considering it a possibility, let alone a probability.

“For a sophisticated city girl, you sure remind me of the small-town pricks I grew up with,” Eddie continued, spittle gathering at the corner of his lips. Rage burned in his eyes. “Guess none of those textbooks taught you how to ask questions, huh? Like, ‘Eddie, where were you last night?’ That might’ve been a good start.”

His words were submerged in a poisonous vitriol, purposefully launched with the intent to maim. And yet they weren't inherently aimed at you. Not all of them, anyway.

In that moment, you were everyone who had ever accused him of a crime he hadn’t committed. You were the security guards who ‘kept an eye’ on him when he went shopping, the middle-aged women who scowled and clutched their pearls at his tattoos, the people in his hometown who wrote him off as a devil-worshiping freak.

Guilty until proven innocent.

The fingers on your left hand slotted between the gaps on your right and pressed into your palm, a distraction from the lump forming in your throat. Crying was not an option, it exposed your vulnerability and opened you up to further ridicule. The only thing worse than Eddie using your tears against you was if he took pity on you; there was no way you could handle that level of humiliation.

“Eddie, I—”

You’d finally found your footing in the conversation, and it was promptly clipped. “Just assumed that I was off breaking and entering. A little blue collar crime is nothing new for trailer trash like me, right?” He shook his head in faux disbelief. “Is this how you’re gonna treat your clients?”

That final comment was a lit match that ignited a powderkeg within you, and since you refused to shed a single tear, it exploded in the only other way possible.

“You,” you jabbed your finger into his chest, no longer caring about whatever professional boundaries you might be crossing. Those had flown out the window once he’d purposely dredged up your insecurities. “You are the one who bailed on your job with the lamest excuse I’d ever heard and expected me not to get suspicious.” Your heart beat double-time, pumping raw anger in lieu of blood. “And you are the one who bragged about trashing a hotel room when the manager had the audacity to enforce a rule.”

Eddie took a small step back, your biting reply an arrow to the gut. Perhaps even he felt it, too; the way he’d taken his tirade over the line. Gray flakes fell from his cigarette and onto the desk, the ashy clump having grown too heavy for gravity.

You weren’t done, despite his apparent surrender. “You’re not my client. And I’m not Nancy Drew, so don’t act like I’m responsible for solving your bullshit mysteries.”

His nostrils flared as he regained his composure. “Asking a question isn’t—” a door creaking open and subsequent irritated footsteps halted his retort. Both of you broke eye contact to watch as Phyllis padded up the hallway and into the lobby. Irritation accentuated her smeared-lipstick frown, and she pulled her robe across her body, tugging on the belt in frustration.

“I don’t know what this little lovers’ quarrel is about,” she hissed through clenched teeth, dragging an arthritic finger between you and Eddie, “but it’s killing the mood. So if you could wrap it up, we’d greatly appreciate it.”

You nearly choked on your tongue, and pink splotches decorated Eddie’s stubbled cheeks.

“We’re not—”

“It isn’t—”

But Phyllis had already stalked back to her room, never one to keep a gentleman caller waiting.

Neither you nor Eddie said a word for a few seconds, the heat of embarrassment still nipping at your bodies. A lovers’ quarrel? Phyllis clearly had a convoluted sense of romance if she thought you and Eddie were lovers.

Eddie shattered the silence first, mumbling something nearly unintelligible about needing an ashtray. The dam that restrained your snarkiness had apparently buckled and burst, because when he turned to leave, his back to you, you called out, “see how easy it is to tell me where you’re going?”

He stopped, the cigarette between his fingers now ash down to the filter, but he didn’t turn around. His voice was low in his throat, a slight tremor as he spoke. “That’s real rich, coming from the person whose parents think she’s going to school for hospitality.”

That was low, but unlike his comment about accusing your future clients, this one was true. There was nothing you could say in response, no rebuttal would suffice. You hated the way words stilled in your chest, wishing you could fling insult after insult about his failed music career, but you were simply too tired.

You managed to stave off your tears until he had fully rounded the corner, burying your head in your hands to muffle your sobs. Pathetic. That’s what you were: a pathetic mess, bold enough to start an argument but too cowardly to finish it. And so there you stood, elbows digging into the wooden desktop until splinters pierced your skin, the distance between you and Eddie growing with each passing second.

Holding your own with other guests was usually second-nature for you, but other guests weren’t Eddie. They weren’t hanging around the lobby and asking you about your hopes and dreams. They weren’t willingly offering up their most vulnerable selves just to reassure you. They weren’t tagging along on errands and turning ordinary subway rides into small adventures.

They also weren’t sneaking around and making watered-down excuses, then painting you as the bad guy for doubting their intentions.

Half of you ached to apologize; the other half wanted to toss him and his trash bag luggage to the curb and not look back.

Warm tears slid down the slope of your nose until you tasted their salt on your lips. Stopping them seemed an impossible task, your mind hovering above your body like a separate entity altogether. Your breaths were jagged and uneven, an irregular pattern of shallow inhales and strained exhales.

There was no sense in throwing yourself a pity party, not when you got yourself into this mess. If you were going to wallow in your own misery, you could at least be productive while you cried.

Eddie had barely started the re-wallpapering, so cleaning up was not a daunting task. You rolled the paper back around the tube, keeping it tightly wound for easier transport. It was clunky; you had to adjust it twice in the short distance to the closet, but you managed to get it there with it unraveling.

A gentle scrape across the desk made you peek out from behind the closet door, your red-stained, swollen eyes landing on Eddie once again. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lower lip, his fingers clenched around the jet-black lighter you hadn’t noticed he’d left behind.

He saw you, too, his lips forming a tense smile.

“Forgot this,” he said, holding up the lighter with a little shake. The jaded lines of his face softened when he clocked your tear-streaked cheeks, and that minor show of sympathy had you eager to crawl beneath a rock.

You waited for him to say something, anything, but he just let his gaze fall to where you were twisting the lid back onto the glue. Tucking the cigarette behind his ear and covering it with a curtain of curls, he hoisted the bucket and brought it back to the supply closet.

“Thanks.” It was safe yet genuine, not an invitation for a conversation nor a dismissal.

Eddie shrugged. “S’fine,” he lisped, the cigarette placed back between his lips as he lit it. “Needed to clean up anyway.”

Optimism—whatever you could muster up of it—rattled against your ribcage like a prisoner yearning for freedom. If he cared about cleaning up, maybe that meant he was going to finish the job another time. You didn’t dare ask him, only nodding your head in acknowledgment.

Friends fight, right? Your nagging need for reassurance poised the question on the tip of your tongue, but your fear of looking desperate anchored it there. I didn’t ruin everything, did I?

The flick of the lighter sparked a flame, Eddie’s hand protectively cupped around it. “Well, um, g’night,” he said, giving an awkward half-wave.

“Good night.” Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow. But you didn’t manage that addendum, and Eddie retreated to his room.

When you slept that morning, you dreamt that he turned back around.

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mshroom1e · 4 months

Text

ೃ⁀➷ Baby My Phone

type: headcanons

listen to me yap about what phones i’d think twst characters would have.

2.2k words

Characters: NRC students

╰┈➤ Riddle

Uses a landline.

╰┈➤ Ace

He uses an iPhone but it’s one of those broken, screen protector hanging off, yellow clear case iPhone 8s.

He still thinks his phone is better than an Android and refuses to switch.

His wallpaper is one of those with a massive Nike tick and a “just do it” in a neon red camouflage pattern.

He hasn’t changed it since he was 12.

-2/10

╰┈➤ Deuce

He has a Samsung for sure.

It’s not one of the most expensive ones like an S24 Ultra but it’s reliable.

He’s got a pretty average phone case. It’s navy blue and heavy-duty, making his phone practically indestructible.

His wallpaper is probably yellow with a cartoonish picture of a chick breaking out of an egg.

Pretty simple.

Distinguished taste for an equally distinguished gentleman.

9/10

╰┈➤ Trey

He has a Samsung S10.

I don’t know why, but he just does.

I can also see him using one of those grandpa wallet cases where he carries everything inside.

His phone case doubles as a purse with the bits and bobs he puts in there.

It’s literally a fanny pack that just happens to have space to hold a phone.

Need a napkin? Hold on, let him get it from his phone case real quick.

It’s really handy but a little ridiculous with the amount of stuff he carries in there.

The battery life is hammered thanks to the hours of temple run his siblings play on it whenever he goes home for holidays.

His wallpaper is probably a picture of his siblings, which is cute.

4/10.

Would be higher if it wasn’t for the silly wallet case.

╰┈➤ Cater

We’ve already seen his phone multiple times in game, so I don’t think I have much to say.

His wallpaper is bold, like the phone case he uses.

It’s not exactly ugly, but it definitely suits him.

It’s just not something most people would want to put on their phones.

He’s 100% an iPhone user but he’s the type that gets the new model that comes out every year.

Either that or he’s using one of his sister’s hand-me-downs that’s an iPhone 13. (just like me fr).

6/10

If it wasn’t for that peculiar phone case, I’d rate it higher.

╰┈➤ Leona

I can see him using a Samsung S24 Ultra.

He barely uses it, though.

Most of the time, he tosses the phone at his nephew to keep him distracted when he sees him at home.

Because of that, he’s got a home screen full of kids' mobile games like Talking Tom and Subway Surfers.

The phone’s got a small crack in the screen from when Cheka dropped it but it wasn’t a big deal so Leona never bothered to get it fixed or replaced.

He’s got a leopard print phone case and his wallpaper is a selfie Reggie took with him sleeping and set it on his lock screen that he never bothered to change.

7/10

Again, the phone case is a no from me.

╰┈➤ Ruggie

He uses a Samsung too.

It’s an older model, like an S10+.

It’s a gift from Leona that he tossed at Ruggie one day.

Ruggie is pretty grateful for it since he was wondering how he’d contact his grandmother back at home without a phone since he wouldn’t be able to get a durable one until a while of saving up.

He takes pretty good care of it and there’s no scratches or cracks.

His wallpaper matches the selfie of himself and Leona that he set as the latter’s lock screen.

He got himself a heavy-duty phone case just to make sure it doesn’t get damaged.

10/10.

Totally not biased.

╰┈➤ Jack

He’s an iPhone user, probably sporting an iPhone 12 Pro Max. You can’t blame him for needing a large phone when he’s got pretty big hands.

He uses a clear case that’s somehow got no yellowing to it and his phone is green. It’s got a pretty wrecked battery life thanks to the younger sibling x phone syndrome.

His little sister killed the battery life with her 500 cumulative hours on Roblox and Among Us.

He doesn’t really mind since he doesn’t use his phone more than like 4 times a day.

8/10

Pretty cool.

╰┈➤ Azul

A tasteful Samsung user.

He’s one of those people who thinks iPhones are a scam and refuses to buy into it, like the classy businessman he is.

(he just has no idea how to use one).

Idk if Merfolk have waterproof phones or just communicate with echolocation but let’s pretend that the fish people have phones too.

He sports a Samsung Z Flip5 in lavender. He also has a baby blue phone case with a little seashell on it.

The twins tease him about his cutesy design choice but he shrugs it off since he knows it looks good.

It’s a shame he rarely uses the phone when he’s not going to send emails, do schoolwork and post on the lounge’s social media, though.

He also watches food ASMR videos. His wallpaper is a picture of the sea in the usual daytime lighting.

10/10

Very nice

╰┈➤ Jade

Another Android Avenger using a Samsung S22 in sage green.

His phone is in pretty good condition.

Though, he’s got a few spots of soil trapped between his screen protector and the end of his phone case.

There’s only like a single, tiny crack on his screen protector for dropping it on the floor face first when in the Botanical Garden talking to his little plants.

Can’t really blame him since he looks up tutorials when handling new spores. His phone case is transparent with (you guessed it) a pattern of little mushrooms littered on the back.

His wallpaper is a pic of him and Floyd when they were in their first year at NRC. It’s a strangely cute phone for someone as shady as Jade.

7/10

Nice, but the mushrooms r kinda overkill.

╰┈➤ Floyd

His phone doesn’t have a single crack on it.

He’s someone who takes really good care of his stuff and has a bunch of screen protectors since he knows how prone he is to dropping and accidentally throwing his phone.

His battery is fried tho since he’s notorious for playing a bunch of those silly mobile games like Fill the Fridge or Crowd City.

When he isn’t tormenting people with his deadly hugs, he’s sat perched in a corner gargoyle style with his eyes glazed over as he plays Block Blast with a score of 10,000.

Floyd’s pretty diverse with his phone case and he changes it depending on how he feels that day. Most of the time, he goes for his pale green one with an eel drawing on it, like the bag he used during the Camp Vargas event.

His wallpaper is either matching with Jade’s or a random photo of the sea he took a few days ago.

10/10

Very cool

╰┈➤ Kalim

Gets the newly released iPhone every year.

He’s not that bad though, since he gives his old one to his sibling and they pass it on to the next sibling like One For All.

His phone has no cracks on it too. He makes sure to take good care of it since he knows it’s gonna be his younger sibling’s phone in about a year and he doesn’t want them to have to use a broken phone.

He’s just nice like that. His phone case is orange with little peach circles dotted all around the back.

He’s another notorious mobile gamer with his number 1 game being Where’s My Water. His lock screen is a particularly nice-looking spread from one of the many parties he’s had over at his dorm.

10/10

Kalim is the best

╰┈➤ Jamil

Humble Samsung S21 user.

He may or may have not opted for this brand out of spite after Kalim suggested he get an iPhone so they could easily AirDrop stuff to each other.

(Quick Share is better anyway)

Isn’t much of a mobile gamer but he’s found a second home on AITA communities on Reddit.

I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.

Jamil’s wallpaper is either something pretty like the sunset at his dorm or something silly like a selfie he took doing face masks with his sister.

As per sibling rules, however, he always makes sure to change his second lock screen any time he goes home.

She can’t know that he cares that much.

1000/10

Jamil favouritism.

╰┈➤ Vil

iPhone 15 pro max ultra mega sigma plus plus premium user.

Sometimes he has to record videos on his phone, so he needs one with the best camera and screen refresh rate possible.

It’s scary how he has no games on his phone except Wordscapes.

Believes screen time is terrible for your skin (is it?) and refuses to spend more than an hour on it outside of updating his different social media accounts.

His phone has no cracks and he hates greasy screens so best believe he’s got a glass cleaner wipe tucked into his pocket everywhere he goes.

His phone case is purple with a pop socket in the shape of a gold crown. His wallpaper is a picture of himself (ofc it is) from his favourite photoshoot.

6/10

Vil

╰┈➤ Rook

Samsung Soldier.

Rook uses a hefty Samsung Fold5.

Sometimes he needs a phone to do phone stuff and sometimes he needs a tablet to view a proper sized map of NRC for various uses I will not elaborate on for legal reasons.

When Vil takes away Epel’s phone, I imagine Rook allows Epel to use his phone to play Subway Surfers or Roblox.

Lives risky life and doesn’t use a case or a screen protector.

His phone somehow isn’t shattered especially after the billion times it’s fallen to the ground at the speed of light when he watches people from trees.

His lock screen is a Pinterest collage of Vil. 5/10

Vil

I refuse to elaborate

╰┈➤ Epel

Cracked Samsung S9.

Been using the same phone since he was 12 and refuses to let it go.

Anytime he falls, the phone disassembles and his battery goes flying.

He has to do a walk of shame each time to pick up his battery and put it back inside his phone.

Sometimes he stays up until 3 am playing COD mobile with Deuce and hides his phone under his pillow every time Vil opens his door to make sure the first years are asleep.

His wallpaper is a really cute selfie with him and the rest of the first year group. No phone case.

9/10

The battery thing is sadly relatable

╰┈➤ Idia

He uses a Samsung S24 Ultra.

Perfect mix of amazing performance as well as free rein to go into developer mode or download any 3rd party apps and modded games as much as he wishes.

Strongly believes Android is better.

When he isn’t raging at kids on Fortnite, he’s hidden in a corner of his room reading fanfic on AO3.

He will not tell a soul why his screen time shows that he has 6 hours every day on Samsung internet.

His phone case, I imagine would be a basic black with a little doodle of a cat on the back.

His wallpaper would be a pic of his PC setup when he thought it looked particularly cool.

10/10

Super techy.

╰┈➤ Ortho

He is the phone.

╰┈➤ Malleus

Uses a landline.

╰┈➤ Lilia

He has an iPhone 14 and no one can tell me it isn’t Kuromi-themed.

I’m talking lock screen, phone case, home screen, widgets, and icons.

It’s the black and pink/purple pallette that they both sport that makes my brain associate the two.

He’s got a few cracks and scratches from when he hangs upside down and his phone crashes to the ground like a missile.

One of his other lock screens is a pic of Silver when he was a baby and walking for the first time.

Don’t tell Silver, though.

8/10

Super cute.

╰┈➤ Silver

Lilia got him an iPhone 14 too so they could AirDrop things to each other and FaceTime every day for the year Lilia was at NRC without Silver.

Other than that, Silver rarely uses his phone.

His sleep timer is through the roof since he hibernates for most of the day.

He’s got a plain black phone case and everything on his phone is at default settings.

Including home and lock screens.

6/10

Very normal

╰┈➤ Sebek

Wanted to be cool like Malleus and have no phone since he does not wish to partake in the use of technology of human invention.

Instantly takes back that statement once he was out with the Diasomnia dorm and got lost in a marketplace.

Lilia and co had spent hours looking for him. After that, Lilia got him one of those “my first phone” gadgets for kids where the only contact numbers are emergency services and parents and the “parents” can easily access his location.

That way, they can prevent any accidents that creates their very own “Finding Sebek” franchise.

5/10

Very silly.

#twisted wonderland #gn reader #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic #twist #twst shitpost #twst headcanons #twst hcs #disney twst #twst imagines #twst kalim #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland malleus #twst scenarios

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skyalent · 11 months

Text

Witches Can Be Good | Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader - Part 1

This is intended to be a short story/one shot. I wrote this when I had a sudden idea of a crossover between Supernatural and the Scarlet Witch. Also available on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!

This inspired by a tumblr post: The Sweet Old Lady is a Witch by Thera. I really love her Wanda/Y/n OC and the story! Here's her story: https://thera-daydreams.tumblr.com/post/658041636626022400/

Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader

I do not own Marvel or Supernatural.

Part 1 (You are here) *~* Part 2 *~* Part 3 *~* Part 4???

Part 1: Into the World of Supernatural

Wanda was done and tired.

After going through the multiverse with Dr. Strange and Loki, after Westview, after sacrificing everything over and over and over again Wanda was done and tired.

She looked tiredly towards the two friends that had grown on her. The two friends that had become brothers to her. Sensing her stare they turned to her, silence questioning in their eyes as she smiled tiredly at them.

"I think I'm done."

...

"... you're done...?" Dr. Strange repeated, not fully understanding what Wanda was implying.

"I'm tired, Stephen. I want to relax, sit down for a while... maybe watch the flowers grow."

Loki looked at her with a contemplative look before nodding, "Where will you go?"

"Anywhere but here." Wanda automatically responded, "I don't care if there's heroes there or anything really. As long as the world is somewhat normal and similar and they leave me alone, anywhere is fine."

Both Strange and Loki looked at each other before carefully taking Wanda's hands in theirs, a gesture that they had come up with to comfort each other. They had all gotten close together after all they had went through.

"We'll call you if we need you." Strange commented.

"And we'll keep in touch." Loki added, elbowing Strange who lightly glared back at him, "We won't bother you too often. Go live your 'normal' life."

"You deserve it." Strange tried to redeem himself, gaining a small grin from Wanda. "Just try not to cause any trouble. Or rather, trouble we'll have to intercept in." Loki elbowed him again.

"I'll try my best." Wanda only smiled, squeezing her hands that held theirs before letting go. "I better get going now."

"See you around Wanda."

"I think a fresh start needs a new name, doesn't it?" Strange said suddenly.

"Strange I think that's the first good idea I've heard come from your mouth." Loki scoffed, grinning as Strange looked at him offended. "I've always been partial to the name Y/n."

"Y/n L/n it is." Strange proudly smiled ignoring the look Loki gave him as he looked at Wanda- at Y/n.

"Really? L/n?"

"I think it sounds nice, Loki." Y/n reassured the god. At those words he automatically changed his mind.

"Yes, Y/n L/n surely fits you."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Y/n sighed as she finally finished conjuring up all of the new items for her new home. She had already put a spell around it, ensuring that those who entered her new home would feel safe, warm, and comfortable. She wanted the exact opposite of Westview. She carefully hid the runes, making them small and they camouflaged well with the decorative wallpaper.

She had bought a small store, her home right above it. The store, Y/n decided, was going to sell things that she took comfort in. Books, plants, and a couple assorted goods if she felt like baking in the kitchen. There was even a section for artists to paint and for others to just sit in the bean bags and relax or read a good book.

Speaking of books, the town she moved into was awfully generous. After hearing she was going to open a bookstore, the resident librarian, who was an old, dying man, came up to her. He loved his books as if they were his own children. But his grandchildren didn't want to take over the library and he didn't want to see all of his books get tossed away.

And so, the old man generously gave Y/n most of the books from his library. He kept some and donated the rest to charity. Y/n's little shop was going well. Y/n didn't mind much about the slow business, she just wanted to relax and take in every moment. Something that she never would have done before.

But as each day passed, Y/n couldn't help herself but to find out the secret of this world. The supernatural existed.

It didn't come as much of a shock for Y/n, considering she was partly supernatural, but to hear the benevolent spirits and ghosts gossiping about ghosts who had fallen into rage and anger confused her. It baffled her so much to hear about ghosts actually having the ability to kill people, so she separated ghosts into two categories.

Astral ghosts. Ghosts of the dead who wandered in the astral plane, patiently waiting for something to occur before accepting their death. These were the ghosts that never went angry or fell into a random rage. Like the poor old librarian. He was waiting for his grandchildren to visit either his grave, the shut down library, or Y/n's bookstore before passing on. In the meantime, he continued his daily routines as if he were alive.

Then there were the angry ghosts. Not a very original name, Y/n knew, but it was simple enough for her to understand. They were the ghosts that fell into darkness and killed others, overwhelmed with rage to even see reason.

She didn't worry much about those ghosts, because the ones that were in her small town were given free therapy by her, and easily lost their anger and passed on to the afterlife with the reaper guiding them.

The other supernatural things? Y/n read up on them with the books given to her in the library, but other than that, she didn't care about them. If they were to ever show up at her town, she would make sure to deal with it so that everyone would be safe. But as she settled in and let her guard down for the next couple months, a little shapeshifter decided that her small town would be the perfect place to stir some trouble.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm Agent Adam Clayton, and this is my partner Agent Larry Mullen. We're with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a couple questions about a couple customers you've had."

Y/n stared wearily at the two men who had entered her shop. Just by reading their minds she could tell their names were false, especially since they were the same names as the band members from U2. However, she didn't comment on it, considering they were partially telling the truth about asking questions of her customers.

"What have my customers done to get attention from the FBI?" Y/n asked curiously, although she continuously kept reading their minds for answers.

"Just a couple of them have gone missing ma'am. We're hoping you could give us any clues as to where they've gone."

Getting enough answers from reading the tall one's mind (he thought a lot and his thoughts were practically screaming at her) she nodded at them. Hunters that hunt and kill the supernatural? Y/n guessed they were the hero equivalent in this world. The only question left would be if they would kill her if they found out she was also a 'witch.' "So, which customers?"

"Robert Dunn, Todd Alexander, and Philip Navarro." the shorter one answered her. They watched her as she continued to walk around her shop, watering her plants.

Y/n took her time to recall them, "Well, the three of them were all from out of town. We've never had that many visitors before so it was easy to remember them. They all liked to talk too." Y/n frowned at the thought of those conversations she had with them. But now that she actually thought about it, the thoughts of the 3 customers were somewhat similar.

The taller one, catching Y/n's frown, continued to question her. "What did they talk about?"

"You know, simple 'What's your name?' or 'Could I get your number?' They were all particularly flirty."

"So would you say no if I asked for your number?" 'Adam Clayton' couldn't help but comment, getting elbowed by 'Larry Mullen.' Wow, these boys really reminded Y/n of Stephen and Loki.

"I'd tell you the same response I told those men. I'm not interested in a relationship right now. Taking a break from that." Y/n handed 'Adam' a yellow tulip. At the questioning look, Y/n answered him, "So you don't feel too bad. Yellow tulips mean joy and a whole lot of other things."

"Do you give every man you reject a yellow tulip?" 'Adam' pouted causing Y/n to grin slightly.

"Well, any type of yellow flowers work. Yellow flowers in general symbolize spreading happiness and joy."

"Sorry- about the men? What happened after that?" 'Larry' steered them back on track.

"Oh, they all left the store looking somewhat upset but also giddy. Philip said he'd be back to try again though he hasn't been back in a week already."

'Larry' nodded, seemingly getting all the information he wanted and thanking Y/n politely before taking 'Adam' with him to stop him from flirting any further with Y/n.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So the only connection right now is Y/n, but why?" Sam questioned, going through a book he had borrowed at Y/n's store earlier.

"She's a hot chick. Who wouldn't go and take a chance to ask her out?" Dean replied, happily munching on a burger as he sat on the couch of their motel room.

"You think she's the one who's been killing them?" Sam asked, "It's a possibility."

"Remember what Philip told her?" Dean reminded Sam, "He'd be back to try again. Pretty creepy if you ask me."

"So a shapeshifter?"

"Bingo!"

"That seems a little far fetched, Dean."

"Hey, all we gotta do is watch the chick and then we'll figure out if it's her or if it's a shapeshifter. Easy solution! Or we could get access to her security cameras."

Sam grunted as he closed the book, flopping onto his bed. "She doesn't have any. I checked. Please tell me you at least find that suspicious."

"Hey, maybe she can't afford them! Town's pretty small, her shop's pretty small, she might not get a lot of income, you know?" Dean stood up, walking to the door, "I'm gonna get a drink, wanna come?"

Sam didn't respond and Dean took that as a no, leaving for the nearest bar. He kept walking to the bar he saw close-by, but just as he turned the corner, a fist hit his face and he blacked out.

As Dean came back into consciousness, he was greeted by the sight of Philip shedding his skin and forming into himself. Damn, he was right. It was a shapeshifter. The shapeshifter merely glanced at the tied up Dean, glaring deadly holes into him. "She's mine..!" he hissed at Dean, leaving the cold room.

Looking around the room, he saw the bodies of the other men, too late to save them. Philip however, laid unconscious on the floor. Dean could see however that the Shapeshifter had injured Philip greatly and that if he did not get any help right away, he could die. Frantically working at the ropes, Dean could only hope that Sam would get to Y/n on time. (However, Sam was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what had happened).

Y/n didn't think it was normal of 'Adam' to come knocking at her door, especially at the middle of the night when the store was most definitely closed. She peaked from the safety of her window, using her magic to be invisible just in case she were to be spotted.

'Adam' was filled with possessive thoughts that automatically told Y/n something was wrong. As she shuffled through 'Adam's' memories, she found that most were not there, some floating around, the most recent one being tied up in some kind of basement.

"Hey Miss Y/n...? Are you here?" a shy astral ghost of a child appeared behind her. It was a ghost Y/n had met recently a few weeks ago. At the voice, Y/n moved away from the window and reappeared. "Yes, dear?"

The child stumbled back a bit in surprise but quickly calmed down, looking at her. "Remember how I said what I wanted most was for my dad to visit my grave at least once?"

"Yes?" Y/n whispered quietly back to the child, motherly instincts taking over as she looked at the child gently.

"I changed my mind. He needs help right now. That's what I want most. For dad to live." The ghost child looked at Y/n with determination and Y/n couldn't help but answer their plea.

"Lead the way."

Sneaking out of the house via the backdoor, Y/n followed the ghost child to the other side of town, going into the forest near their town and was led to a cabin. Inside the cabin was a simple bunk bed and a large chest. Nothing inside the cabin seemed to have been used in a while. The only thing that indicated someone- something lived here was the vase filled with yellow flowers at the window sill.

"Here. He's down there." The ghost pointed at the chest, before floating through it and disappearing. Using her magic, Y/n easily pulled the chest out of the way and revealed a passageway with a ladder heading straight down into the darkness. Not seeing her ghost friend, Y/n continued heading down, deeper and deeper until she reached the floor.

It was cold down here. The lights were dim and flickered occasionally, but it was clear that it was being powered by electricity somehow. "This way, this way." The ghost child urged, pointing down the hallway.

Quickly, Y/n rushed, her footsteps echoing as she ran. As she made it to the end of the hallway she saw two corpses, an unconscious Philip and Dean who was looking at her in shock.

"So I'm guessing you're the real 'Adam'?" Y/n asked, although already knowing the answer. She went towards him, untying the ropes as fast as she could. Before Dean could suspect her or say anything Y/n continued to speak, "There was someone who looked like you at my door, but when I zoomed in with my phone to check who it was from the window, your eyes were white." Y/n lied, using the information she knew about shapeshifters to her advantage, "I'm pretty sure that's not exactly normal."

Dean grinned, "Sweetheart, there's a lot of things that aren't normal."

Picking up Philip, the two rushed out of the cabin, not willing to stay any longer to face the shapeshifter. Dean didn't have any gear, and he couldn't risk the lives of two innocent people. However, they didn't make it very far as the Dean clone confronted them in the forest, staring intensely at Y/n.

"Ma'am, back away from the shapeshifter, right now! Don't let it trick you!" the Dean clone shouted at Y/n. If Y/n couldn't read minds, she surely would have felt conflicted right now as Dean also told her,

"He's trying to trick you. Trust me, I'm the real deal. I- I know that sounds bad- but I promise. I'm a hunter. My real name is Dean."

The Dean clone took a step closer causing Y/n to turn to him. "Don't come closer. Mr. Philip needs help right now. I don't care whoever you are as long as he gets help."

Dean, taking advantage of the standstill, grabbed Y/n's hand and started to run, carrying Philip. The motel was nearby, hopefully they could make it and grab Sam's attention somehow.

But the clone was fast. Y/n's eyes narrowed as her other arm was grabbed and she decided that she's had enough. Using her magic she blasted the shapeshifter back. Dean looked at her in shock and fear, but Y/n didn't mind. Those kinds of looks weren't new to her.

"Dean you're a hunter. Do I have to kill the guy or no?" Y/n asked, snapping Dean out of it.

"You're a witch-"

"It's a yes or no question Dean." Y/n snapped, watching blankly as the shapeshifter stood up and began to approach them again, angered.

Taking a step, it jumped at Dean, causing Dean to blurt out a quick "yes!" before the shapeshifter was stopped, floating mid-jump at Dean. The shapeshifter turned to ashes in front of his eyes and Dean turned to look at Y/n with an impassive look.

"I've heard that hunters usually kill witches or anything supernatural, but please get Mr. Philip help first before you decide to kill me."

And with that, Y/n left to her small store, packing up her things in a dimensional pocket. She trusted that Dean would get Philip the help he needed. She just needed to get out of here. If she couldn't convince Dean to not kill her, she would go to another world before he could.

As she quickly finished packing up, the small ghost child appeared before her.

"Thank you for saving dad." the shy ghost looked at the ground, as if blushing from embarrassment.

"It's no problem dear. He was important to you, right? It's important to always care and look out for family." Y/n looked at the ghost kindly, recalling her own family. Reaching out her hand to hold the young ghost's, Y/n gently whispered to them. "I believe it's time for you to rest now, dear."

A reaper appeared next to them, patiently waiting.

"...Will it hurt?"

Y/n smiled at the ghost, reassuring them, "It won't. It'll feel like waking up from a dream."

The shy ghost hugged her tightly, thanking her, before taking the hand of the reaper and disappearing with it. Y/n sighed, relieved that the child was finally at peace. At least they could have the peace Y/n longed for. A gun clicked behind her head. Y/n didn't turn around.

"Explain."

From the voice, Y/n could tell it was the taller brother. 'Larry,' or Sam, had seen, or rather heard the whole interaction. From what he could tell, Y/n was talking to an invisible ghost or spirit and helped it move on to the afterlife. A much different tactic to their usual salt and burn.

"About who I am or what I just did?" Y/n asked.

"Both." Dean came in behind Sam, staring at the witch.

"Hm, well... I'm from a different universe..."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It wasn't easy, but Sam and Dean believed her story. But even after that they didn't completely trust her, which was understandable. But at least they liked her enough to keep calling to use her books for research, to get extra information for hunts, or for Dean to just get a pie (he would never admit it but Y/n's pies were the best he's ever had).

Y/n was allowed to live in her small town, as long as she promised not to kill anyone or the brothers swore to come back to kill her. But as they kept calling her over and over again to help with more and more hunts, she found herself being invited to live in the Bunker with them.

Some days were odd.

Some days the brothers seemed like they hated her and everything witches.

But most days they enjoyed her company. They enjoyed that there was something out there that was supposed to be bad, but was actually good.

And ever so slowly they got used to her magic.

One time Dean had walked in on her using magic in the kitchen. Tools and ingredients were flying places, a bowl was stirring itself. Y/n was at the oven taste testing some sort of soup. Dean felt like he was having a Harry Potter moment. At Dean's awkward cough, Y/n jumped back slightly and lifted her head.

"Oh! Sorry, were you hungry? Um... the kitchen is kinda occupied right now, but you could have this pie!"

At her words, a pie found itself in a very happy Dean's hands. "What are you making?"

"Some miso soup. I was craving it so I decided to make it. I didn't want to go out."

"So then where'd you get this pie?"

"Oh, I had a feeling you were going to want one later, so I made it earlier!"

Touched by her kindness, Dean nodded, grateful, but he didn't want to be sappy so he happily left with his pie. Y/n chuckled to herself as she heard Dean's thoughts praising her and her pie.

Sam had come to enjoy their conversations on the supernatural. As he had found out, despite being a witch, Y/n had very basic knowledge on the supernatural world and mostly got her information from her books. So, Sam had taken it upon himself to teach Y/n about the most common and dangerous, and most importantly how to kill it.

Sam had been very careful to teach Y/n about the witch-killing spell and bullets. He had nearly freaked when Y/n went and held a bullet, observing it closely before taking it apart with her magic.

"-so these are the bullets and- WAIT NO Y/N IT'LL KILL YOU!" Sam panicked, lunging towards her as Y/n took the bullet apart. Hearing the yell, Dean came running.

"What's happening!?"

At that moment Sam crashed into the couch Y/n was sitting on as she dodged him.

Y/n chuckled, "I'm fine, this won't hurt me. You told me the ingredients, remember? When combined together, yes, they do kill witches. But they won't kill witches like me."

Y/n poked at the bullet before putting it back together and placing the bullet in the case, which Sam immediately closed and put away. "Let's not do that again. E-Even if it won't- I just, I don't want to risk it."

Seeing how much she had made Sam worry, Y/n put her hand gently on Sam's. "I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean to worry you."

Sam sighed, gently clasping Y/n's hands, "It's alright... you're good. I just... don't want..."

"I know... thank you..." Y/n smiled.

"Aww, look at the two love birds~ get a room already!"

"DEAN SHUT UP!"

However there was a day that Y/n truly treasured. It was the day that both brothers finally put their complete trust in Y/n. This happened during a hunt.

They had quickly figured out it was a ghost and brought Y/n with them so they could finish up quick, but the ghost was more tricky to deal with than they had originally thought.

The ghost was a woman who had been cremated, so there were no remains they could burn. They still had to identify what object the ghost was attached to. It had moved from city to city, so it must have been an object easy to bring along.

Quite easily they could tell it was a vengeful spirit as there was a pattern going on. Mothers were the target, whether they still had kids or not didn't matter apparently. As long as you were a mother at one point (or pregnant), the ghost would come and attack. From what they could get as pretending to be the FBI, the children had seen the ghost that attacked their moms, but the description of the ghost varied from child to child. One thing stayed consistent however, the ghost never touched the kids. At times the ghost had reassured them that everything was okay, that she would take care of them.

As they researched (Sam and Y/n researched, Dean ate on the motel bed), Y/n couldn't help but feel... worried? Sympathetic?

Just from looking at the ghost's targets, Y/n could tell the ghost was a mother at one point in their lives. The ghost was like her, desperate to find and keep her family. Her children. But unlike the ghost, Y/n had learned how to grow from the pain. She had reached the acceptance part in the 5 stages of grief. Yes, she missed her husband and children, but she continued on, knowing that they would be loved and would continue to be loved.

Noticing Y/n spacing out, Dean called out to her. "Hey witchy, you doing okay?"

Y/n looked up at him, "I think I need a break. I'm gonna go for a walk. Wanna come? Sam?"

Dean leaned further into the pillows, "Nah, I'm just gonna relax here."

Sam scowled, "Or you could be helpful and come over here!" to which Dean let out another "nope!" before turning his music up even louder. Sam groaned, "I'm good Y/n, I want to keep researching."

Nodding Y/n left the motel room, taking in the fresh air as she walked.

What she didn't know was that the object the ghost was attached to was in their motel room, and Y/n had left the brothers just before chaos happened.

Not sure if I want to keep writing this because it was just a quick thought I had. Let me know if you'd like a part 2!

Edit: Part 2 has been posted!

Next >

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birdofdawning · 6 months

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I have just realised why I was so blindsided by the identity of the killer in Deadloch.

(Obviously BIG SPOILERS here! Only carry on if you've watched Deadloch! If you haven't watched Deadloch, go and watch Deadloch!)

Okay, so I never even thought about Ray as the killer. And I think it's because the Kates did something very clever and took advantage of a blind spot. I'm so used to shows jamming in an incongruous male romantic interest for the main (straight, female) character that I don't even think about him, I just wait for his scenes to be over so that we can get on with the story. The obligatory romantic D plot that adds nothing to the main storyline has become just so much wallpaper. And I think they used it as camouflage.

And also Ray seemed so sweet and Duncan Fellowes was so funny and, let's admit it, we were all focusing on Eddie anyway.

A sudden thought: be careful with your tags, folks! Don't give the mystery away!

#deadloch #deadloch spoilers #like for real spoilers

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monachopsis7209 · 1 year

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A Sleepy Cat and a Stunned Stag

15th july prompt: bath by @jegulus-microfic

somewhat connected to ‘unintended confessions’. suggested to read that first

271 words

an evening after a particularly tough quidditch session, james found the little black kitten he’d been meeting around the castle. he picked up the kitten and carried it all the way back to his dorm. on the way back, he told the kitten all about the quidditch training he just finished.

when they reached the dorm, james put the feline on his bed and went to take a bath. while he was in the bathroom, the kitten transformed into the future heir to the black fortune, regulus. the boy couldn’t be any happier. he was in his crush’s room, who also happened to have a massive crush on him.

reggie relished in the cinnamon-like smell that wafted from james’ bed. he could also hear the older boy singing in the bathroom as the smell of honey seemed to float around the room. the heat he felt from his surroundings and the woody scents of the dorm were making him sleepy.

james actually took really long showers. 15 minutes was the fastest, and that didn’t include the time he spent changing and taming his hair. he usually took close to 30 minutes. considering he’s now showering after a training session, it’s likely to last about 45 minutes, which led to regulus falling asleep.

so when james finally came out, fully clothed, and saw little reggie sleeping where he put the kitten down, well, his face was the same shade of maroon as the gryffindor sweater he was wearing. regulus would joke in the future that james could have camouflaged into the deep red wallpaper that was found all over the gryffindor tower.

#james potter #jegulus #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #regulus black #harry potter #jegulus fanfiction #regulus and james #james fleamont potter #james potter x regulus black #regulus arcturus black #regulus is a cat #regulus black x james potter #hp fanfic #hp marauders #marauders fic

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villainsimpqueen · 3 months

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Barren Lands lore Dump 3.

We diving into the differences between the Sand biomes that make up the Barren lands and how The Barren Na'vi act between them.

Photos found on pinstrest under "Desert wallpapers."

Whenua one puru- land of blue sands

Abstract

The Whenua One Puru, or the Land of Blue Sands, is a unique ecological and cultural region on Pandora, characterized by its strikingly blue-hued sands and distinctive Na'vi inhabitants. These Na'vi, descendants of banished forest Na'vi, exhibit a blend of physical traits and cultural practices derived from their mixed heritage and adaptation to the barren landscapes. This account covers the origins, adaptations, and social structures of the Blue Sands Na'vi, emphasizing their distinctiveness from other barren land Na'vi tribes.

Introduction

Pandora's diverse ecosystems have given rise to various Na'vi subgroups, each adapted to their specific environments. Among these, the Blue Sands Na'vi of the Whenua One Puru presents a compelling case of ecological and cultural adaptation. Their origins, physical and cultural adaptations to the blue sands environment, and social organization contrast markedly with other barren land Na'vi.

Origins and Evolution

The Blue Sands Na'vi are believed to be descendants of banished forest Na'vi who interbred with native barren lands Na'vi. Their journey likely began from the red sands, through the golden sands, culminating in their settlement in the blue sands. Over generations, this migration and interbreeding resulted in a population whose physical appearance and behaviors were well-suited to the unique blue sands environment.

Physical Adaptations

The Blue Sands Na'vi display several distinctive physical traits:

Coloration and Markings, Unlike the vibrant colors of forest Na'vi, the Blue Sands Na'vi exhibit duller hues that blend seamlessly with their surroundings. Their markings are elongated and broken, resembling snake-like patterns, a trait possibly developed for better camouflage in the blue sands.

Morphological Changes Adaptations, to the barren environment include thicker tails for balance on shifting sands, higher placed and wider ears for enhanced auditory perception, and elongated canine teeth for defensive purposes. Despite these changes, they retain the lean and slim body shape characteristic of forest Na'vi.

Cultural Adaptations

The Blue Sands Na'vi maintain unique cultural practices influenced by their mixed heritage:

Clan Structure: Unlike the solitary or small family groups of red and golden sands Na'vi, the Blue Sands Na'vi live in small clans or tribes. This clan mentality is a remnant of their forest Na'vi ancestors, who practiced strong community bonds.

Resource Utilization and Trade: Some clans are nomadic, traveling across the blue sands to gather resources and trade with other tribes, including those from the golden sands. Others remain stationary to protect and care for their sacred spirit tree.

Spiritual Practices: Central to Blue Sands Na'vi culture is the spirit tree, brought by a legendary banished Na'vi who became a revered protector. This tree serves as a spiritual and cultural focal point, uniting the tribes in their reverence and care for it.

Discussion

The unique blend of physical and cultural traits of the Blue Sands Na'vi highlights the adaptive potential of the Na'vi species. Their evolution from banished forest dwellers to integrated inhabitants of the blue sands showcases a remarkable journey of resilience and adaptation. The retention of clan structures in an otherwise solitary environment points to the enduring influence of their forest ancestry.

Conclusion

The Blue Sands Na'vi of the Whenua One Puru represent a fascinating example of adaptation and cultural evolution. Their distinctive appearance, physical adaptations, and unique social structures set them apart from other Na'vi groups on Pandora. Further research into their interactions with other barren land tribes and their ecological impacts on the blue sands environment could provide deeper insights into the adaptive strategies of the Na'vi.

Nga whenua onepu toto- Red sands

Introduction

The Red Sands Na'vi inhabit a unique and challenging environment known as The Barren Lands. This region is characterized by its red sand landscapes, which are geographically situated near the outskirts of dense forest biomes inhabited by the Forest Na'vi. The red sands are separated from the neighboring golden sands by a low mountain ridge, with an obscure valley that is difficult for outsiders to access.

Geography and Environment

The red sand landscape is notably harsh and arid. Sandstorms are frequent, contributing to the burial of remains and making navigation and survival particularly challenging. The proximity to the decayed, husk-like forests at the fringes of more robust forest biomes further emphasizes the desolate nature of this region.

Demographics and Social Structure

The Red Sands Na'vi exhibit distinct physical characteristics, including darker grey skin tones with bright red markings. These adaptations provide effective camouflage within their environment. Unlike their Forest counterparts, the Red Sands Na'vi do not have strong clan structures. It is uncommon to find large groups; instead, solitary living is the norm.

When groups do form, they are typically small and familial, often consisting of siblings who have chosen to remain together for mutual support and survival. These family units may expand to include mates and offspring, forming a rudimentary tribal structure aimed at enhancing the survival prospects of their young.

Risks and Challenges

Living in the Red Sands presents numerous risks:

Resource Scarcity: The primary challenge is the scarcity of resources, which makes sustaining larger groups difficult. Starvation is a constant threat, and in extreme cases, those unable to survive may be abandoned or given a herbal concoction to end their suffering humanely.

Conflict: The isolation provided by the mountain ridge does not completely safeguard the Red Sands Na'vi from external threats. Banished Na'vi, who wander these lands, often pose a threat, competing for limited resources. These encounters can lead to violence, resulting in injury or death, particularly among vulnerable group members such as children and mates.

Nomadic Lifestyle

Due to the harshness of their environment, many Red Sands Na'vi adopt a nomadic lifestyle. They continuously move between oases in search of water and food. Mate selection among the Red Sands Na'vi is heavily influenced by their belief in Eywa, the guiding spirit. Typically, males seek out strong, capable females who can navigate the treacherous landscape. In turn, males contribute by hunting and protecting any offspring, thus supporting the family unit's survival.

Conclusion

The Red Sands Na'vi exemplify a unique adaptation to one of the most challenging environments on Pandora. Their solitary or small-group lifestyles, distinct physical adaptations, and the constant movement required for survival highlight the resilience and resourcefulness necessary to thrive in The Barren Lands. Further research into their survival strategies, social structures, and interactions with other Na'vi groups could provide deeper insights into the adaptive mechanisms of humanoid species in extreme environments.

Apxa of the srane sands- Golden sands

Introduction

The Golden Sands Na'vi inhabit the central region of The Barren Lands, a landscape characterized by its extensive golden sand deserts. This region is positioned between the red sands to the west and the blue sands to the east. The Golden Sands area is the largest and harshest of the desert landscapes in The Barren Lands, presenting extreme survival challenges.

Geography and Environment

The Golden Sands landscape endures the most severe conditions among the desert regions. Frequent and intense sandstorms, extreme temperature fluctuations—with freezing nights and scorching days—pose significant threats to survival. Additionally, the risk of dehydration and being buried alive by sandstorms is notably higher here than in the red or blue sands.

Demographics and Social Structure

Golden Sands Na'vi exhibit minimal clan structures, primarily due to the harshness of their environment. When temporary clans do form, they quickly dissolve, reverting to single nomadic couples or solitary individuals. The solitary nature of the Golden Sands Na'vi makes finding mates particularly challenging and rare.

The Golden Sands Na'vi hold a belief in Eywa guiding mates to them, similar to other Na'vi groups. However, females of this subspecies are highly selective in choosing mates. If a female deems a guided male unworthy, it is not uncommon for her to take his life to avoid being followed or hunted later. This extreme selectivity underscores the high stakes of survival in such an unforgiving environment.

The scarcity of oases in the Golden Sands increases the risk of dehydration and starvation. Opportunities for finding shade are rare, further compounding the survival challenges.

Risks and Challenges

The Golden Sands Na'vi face several critical risks:

Sandstorms and Predators: The frequent sandstorms not only pose a physical threat but also provide cover for predators, increasing the danger during these events.

Temperature Extremes: The dramatic temperature swings between day and night add to the difficulty of survival, requiring constant adaptation.

Resource Scarcity: With oases few and far between, the chances of finding water and food are significantly reduced. The lack of shade also heightens the risk of heat-related illnesses.

Conclusion

The Golden Sands Na'vi represent the epitome of adaptation to extreme desert environments on Pandora. Their solitary lifestyles, strict mate selection processes, and resilience in the face of severe environmental challenges highlight their extraordinary survival strategies.

lore dump 4

#avatar way of water fanfics #avatar way of water #naviocspecies #Barren Land Na'vi #Oc Na'vi species #Fanclan #Fanspecies #lore dump 3

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mushiewrites · 1 year

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Silent Library

Ran a poll and you all voted this trio to be next! The prompts come from this list, requested by an anon (ask found here)! I hope you all enjoy :3

8 - “can you stop laughing? i’m trying to talk to you. How rude!” / 57 - “hey! this is a serious matter!”

(lee!Sapnap / ler!Dream / ler!George : 1.6K words)

“Do we really have to be in here?” Sapnap spoke softly, peering around the bland looking building and noticing how everything was colored an earthy brown. The furniture, carpet and wallpaper of the library all seemed to somehow blend together, like some kind of horrible camouflage. “Do you even have a library card?

“We don’t have any other choice, Sapnap. We need this book to code the new minecraft challenge and I can’t find it anywhere - I can’t even find it online,” Dream huffed in an equally soft voice, careful to not disturb the calm atmosphere surrounding them as they made their way to the tech section of the room. “And yes, I still have mine from when I was a kid.”

“This is annoying.” George chimed in, following closely behind the two as he took in his surroundings. The three reached the correct aisle and immediately began to search the many titles littering the shelves, each starting in their own area along the bookshelf.

After a few minutes of searching, Sapnap let out a frustrated sigh from his place on the floor, having been kneeling to search the bottom shelf before working his way up. He gripped the book side of the bookcase as he stood up, groaning and rubbing at the pattern the carpet had left on his knees.

“This is hopeless. It’s not here,” The youngest boy whispered out, partly so the other two could hear but mostly just to complain to himself. “It has to be online, there’s no way that- MM!”

Sapnap slapped his hand over his mouth to muffle his squeal, jumping to the left as George jabbed him in the side to make him be quiet. Unfortunately for them, it had the opposite effect. They heard a stern “SH!” coming from somewhere close. The librarian was unamused at the noise that he let out, clearly not caring how cute it had been.

“George, what the hell?!” He whisper-yelled at the elder, his face heating up when he watched as George giggled into his palm quietly. A sudden warmth was pressed into his left arm and he turned to find a very tall blonde boy leaning into him, pretending to look incredibly interested in the grey and white colored books in front of him.

“What are you- hey!” Sapnap yelped as George pressed himself against his right side, the two older boys successfully trapping him between them and against the bookcase. His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked quickly back and forth between them, continuing with a low growl in his voice. “What the hell, let me go!”

“We’re just looking for the book, Sapnap. What’s the issue?” Dream asked through his smirk, pretending to be clueless as he leaned down to look on the shelf that was level with the smaller boy’s sides. The blonde acted as if he was reaching for a book but instead made a quick poke into Sapnap’s side, making him squirm to the right and directly into George’s waiting fingers.

“Wh- Stohohop!” He pushed against George’s shoulder when he felt a poke into his ribs from the elder. Sapnap could feel his face heating up, no doubt a blushy mess in a very public place, which only served to further darken his cheeks.

“Hey! This is a serious matter! Did you not just hear Dream? We need this book, Sapnap, we can’t stohop!” George was almost giggling himself, biting his bottom lip to prevent a squeak from escaping. Sapnap rolled his eyes at that, opening his mouth to reply but was interrupted with a squeeze at his hip this time, squealing and immediately pretending to cough to conceal his laughter.

“Can you stop laughing? I’m trying to talk to you!” Dream whispered to the left of him, standing back up and leaning in close to Sapnap’s ear to tickle him more. He smirked when the younger boy brought his shoulder up to stop the tingles, gasping in fake offense when he too was pushed away. “How rude!”

“Stohop, y-you’re gonna gehehet us in trouble!” He hiccuped through his giggles, leaning forward and resting his head on the bookshelf in front of him, squeezing his eyes shut and bringing his hands up to cover his mouth once more when he felt light squeezes climbing up both of his sides.

As if the universe was listening, there was another sharp “SH!” that rang out into the uncomfortable silence of the library, only proving to egg the two boys on as he felt them add pressure to their squeezes, now reaching his ribcage and rubbing at the bones there.

Sapnap stomped his foot down as quietly as he could, bouncing up onto his toes and pressing his elbows to his sides to try and stop the tickling. This attempt was unsuccessful, and he continued to squirm as they continued to squeeze, the older boys giggling on either side of him. Sapnap was letting out little squeaks through his muffled laughter, pressing his hand hard against his lips and scrunching his nose as he kept his forehead resting against the shelf in front of him. His hat was slightly pushed up off of his head as the brim of it pressed against the books, prompting the younger boy to reach up and grab at one in an attempt to move it out of the way for his hat to settle back into place. The squeezes suddenly stopped on his right side, hearing a sharp gasp from the elder.

“Wait, look! Sapnap found it!” George’s excitement was present in his lowered voice, feeling as the book he had randomly grabbed was gently taken out of his hands. He opened his eyes to see the brunette smirking, holding up the book they had been looking for to show Dream that they finally had located it.

“Thank fuck.” Sapnap let out a sigh of relief, bringing his hands down to rub at his sides as the two finally stepped away from him, giving the smaller boy space to calm down. He turned around and leaned his back against the wood behind him, running his hands down his cheeks before reaching up to adjust his hat that had been slowly but surely falling off during the attack.

“See? We helped you find it! Your suffering was worth it!” Dream flashed his teeth at Sapnap with a wide smile, reaching out and taking the book from George to double check that it was the edition they needed.

“Speak for yourself.” Sapnap mumbled, blushing when he was met with giggles in response. He let out a groan as the two began walking down the aisle and towards the front of the library, rolling his eyes as he watched them grow farther away.

With teary eyes he trailed behind them as they walked up to the check-out counter, avoiding eye contact with the librarian as she stared them down. Sapnap shrunk behind Dream, hiding in embarrassment at the fact that she had heard his squeaks and squeals, not being able to handle the idea that it meant the rest of the people in the room may have heard them, too. Sapnap shook his head briefly to rid his mind of the thought, silently willing himself to calm down to stop the blush from spreading.

“See, that wasn’t so bad!” Dream smirked down at him as he turned around, the book and his library card in one hand while his free hand gripped onto Sapnap’s shoulder with a squeeze. The smaller boy rolled his eyes with a huff, shoving the hand off of him and letting out a low growl when the action was returned with a quiet chuckle.

“Yeah, and you were the one to find the book! You were just so eager to help, how adorable.” George teased, voice still hushed as they pushed through the glass doors and out into the bright parking lot.

“Whatever, idiots. You’re both gonna pay for this.” Sapnap seethed through his teeth, scowling at the two before breaking out into a small smile, unable to stop himself from giggling at the situation that just played out.

“Sure we will, baby boy,” Dream began as they reached the car, Sapnap and the blonde walking to the same side as George made his way to the passenger side door. Dream grabbed his hand as Sapnap reached for the back door handle, making the younger boy look up to meet his eyes. “Just get in the car before we tickle you to pieces right here in this parking lot, okay?”

Sapnap swallowed thickly as he nodded his head, ducking his head down when he felt the color return to his cheeks once more and yanking his hand out of Dream’s grip. He whined softly when he heard Dream’s high pitched giggles, clearly pleased with the reaction he got from the younger boy. He watched as the blonde opened the driver’s side door and slipped inside, following his actions and climbing up into the car himself.

“What’s got you so red, hm?” George teased from the front seat, looking back at the smaller boy and smirking at the red hue in his cheeks.

“Oh, fuck off, George.” Sapnap whined, the threat from Dream still replaying in his head. He leaned his head against the window and slid down in his seat as the two older boys laughed at the comment, silently cursing the two and plotting his revenge the whole way home.

#lee!sapnap #ler!dream #ler!george #dont even ask where this concept came from #i fell in love with it and had to write it and sap was too perfect to be the victim #we love a giggly sapnap #also thank u to cal for reading through this for me #as always ur amazing #also the title is based off of the mtv show silent library lmfao #mushie fics #mcyt tickle #my stuff

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