Neeksue

https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThalsToddPark/works

[neeksparksg]

Do you think we’re together in every universe? (Rogue x Reader)

A Night Above the Stars

(90's x-men Rogue)

It was a warm evening, and the sky was painted with streaks of soft pinks, oranges, and purples as the sun set over New York City. Y/n hovered over the skyscrapers on a gleaming  energy construct shaped like a flying carpet. Beside her, Rogue leaned back, resting on her elbows with a relaxed smile, the cold evening breeze rustling her auburn hair with its signature white streak.

"This... this is Beautiful, sugar," Rogue drawled, glancing sideways at Y/n with a half-smirk. Her Southern accent lilted, playful and teasing. "Ah gotta admit, Ah've had some wild ideas for a date, but this? Sittin’ on a flyin' piece o' magic energy in the sky? Ya outdone yaself, darlin'."

Y/n gave a soft laugh, flexing her fingers slightly to adjust the smooth energy flow beneath them. "Only the best for you,Love. I figured we deserved a quiet night away from the world trying to kill us."

Rogue’s emerald-green eyes twinkled with amusement. "Ah reckon it’s better than fightin’ Sentinels or dealing with Magneto’s Brotherhood." She shifted closer, bumping her shoulder gently against Y/n’s. it was a suttle but safe move as their clothes protected her

Y/n She extended her hand to Rogue, and their fingers brushed—a fleeting touch, but enough to send a shiver down Rogue’s spine. They couldn’t indulge in prolonged contact—Rogue’s mutant powers were always a constant barrier they both wished to get rid off.

Y/n’s smile faltered for a moment, sensing the distance Rogue always had to maintain. "I wish I could—" she began, but Rogue cut her off, her voice gentle but firm.

"Don’t go blamin' yerself for what neither of us can change," Rogue whispered. "This is nice, just like it is. Ah don't need more than this."

The two of them drifted in silence, the stars beginning to peek through the velvet curtain of night. Y/n shifted the construct into a slow glide, taking them over the sparkling city lights below. Rogue tilted her head back to admire the stars.

“Ah don’t know what Ah did ta deserve ya, sugar… but thank ya fer stayin’. Means more than Ah can say,” Rogue said, her voice soft. “Most people, they get scared soon as they figure out Ah ain't exactly the touchin' kind.”

Y/n arched a brow with a playful grin. "Well, I’m not 'most people,' am I?"

Rogue chuckled at that, the sound a low, melodic hum. "No, darlin'. Ya most certainly ain’t."

They spent the rest of the evening floating across the sky, wrapped in the quiet joy of each other’s company, savoring a moment of peace neither of them got often.

The Price to Pay

It had barely been days since the battle on Liberty Island, and the aftermath of Magneto’s attack had left the X-Men regrouping. The world hadn’t gotten any safer, and neither had life as a mutant. Y/n stood outside the mansion, lost in thoughts as she recalls the recent events, in their short time knowing each other they had become close. She could’ve lost rogue that night and that thought was keeping her awake, she had created dancing figures with her powers trying to distract herself.

When Rogue emerged from the mansion, her face lit up at the sight of Y/n. "I was wonderin' where you went," Rogue said softly, wrapping her coat tighter around herself. Turning around Y/n made the constructs disappear

Y/n smiled and reached for her hand—a simple gesture, but one that carried so much weight between them. Rogue hesitated, pulling her gloved hand away slightly. "Y/n... you know what happens when I—"

"I know," Y/n interrupted gently. She pulled off her own glove, exposing her bare hand. "I want to touch you, Rogue. I don't care if it hurts."

Rogue’s expression was pained. "It ain’t just hurtin’, Y/n. I could kill ya."

Y/n stepped closer, determination flickering in her gaze. "You won’t. I trust you."

With a shaky breath, Rogue reached out and let her fingers brush against Y/n’s skin. The contact was electric—painful, overwhelming, and dangerous—but Y/n gritted her teeth through the pain. She could feel her energy slipping away, her life force being siphoned, but she didn’t let go. It was Rogue the one who pulled away worried for Y/n’s safety

Y/n’s hand start to glow her powers instinctively healing the damage. Rogue gasped, she knew well Y/n’s power didn’t healed her unless it was a big damage. "You... you are glowing, a bit longer and you .." she was interrupted by Y/n

"don’t worry, It’s nothing" Y/n said with a soft smile, though her voice was strained. The pain was intense, but being able to touch rogue was worth it. "It doesn’t matter if it hurts, for you I would endure this pain a hundred times over”  

Rogue blinked back tears. "Y/n... I don't deserve you."

Y/n leaned in closer, pressing a feather-light kiss to Rogue's gloved hand. "You deserve everything, Anna-Marie."

Rogue’s breath hitched at the sound of her real name, and before she could stop herself, Y/n leaned in, pressing her lips to Rogue’s. The kiss was filled with all the longing they had held back for too long. Rogue was lost in the sentiment, and Y/n refused to let go, as her face started to glow

Breaking the Barrier

(evolution)

The day had arrived—Rogue’s birthday. Y/n had been planning this for weeks, practicing her energy constructs tirelessly until she could maintain a precise force shield around herself. She wanted to give Rogue a gift no one else ever could: a touch without fear.

Rogue stare at herself in the mirror, glancing nervously toward the door. She had no idea what Y/n had planned but she sounded excited, but her heart raced with anticipation. When Y/n finally entered, she had a mischievous grin on her face.

"Happy birthday, Rogue," Y/n said softly, stepping closer.

Rogue tensed instinctively as Y/n reached out to her. "Y/n, ya can't—"

Before she could finish, Y/n wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace. Rogue froze, waiting for her powers to take effect on Y/n, but... nothing happened. No draining, no pain on Y/n’s face—just warmth.

"How...?" Rogue whispered, stunned.

Y/n pulled back slightly, grinning. "I’ve been practicing. I made a force field, just thin enough to cover me but still strong enough to block your powers." It wasn’t until then that rougue saw the smallest hint of a glow covering Y/n’s body

Rogue’s eyes filled with unshed tears. "Y/n... this is..."

"Shh," Y/n whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Rogue’s forehead. "You deserve to feel normal, at least for tonight."

Rogue sniffled, wiping her eyes quickly. "Ah swear, if ya make me cry on mah birthday..."

Y/n chuckled and took her hand. "C’mon. I’ve got a date planned, and there is no time to waste."

The day went on faster than what either of the girls wanted, they tried everything that Y/n could think of, The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of freshly bloomed flowers from the garden surrounding the Xavier Institute. Rogue still held Y/n's hand as they walked slowly toward the small hill overlooking the grounds. For once, Rogue felt like herself—no barriers, no fears—just her and Y/n. Every step they took hand in hand felt surreal.

“Ah still can't believe ya did this,” Rogue whispered, glancing down at their interlocked fingers. Her thumb brushed over Y/n's knuckles in a soft, absent motion she had never allowed herself before. "All this time, Ah thought we'd never—"

"I told you, Rogue," Y/n said with a warm smile. "I was gonna figure it out one way or another. I just needed a little time... and a lot of practice."

Rogue's lips curled upward into a small smile, and she gave Y/n’s hand a light squeeze. "Ya really outdid yerself, sugar."

They reached the top of the hill, and Y/n waved her hand, summoning a shimmering blanket of glowing energy. The light shifted into patterns like constellations, twinkling faintly. Y/n pulled Rogue gently down onto the energy-blanket with her, the soft hum of Y/n’s power surrounding them.

Rogue sat cross-legged, her heart still racing from the thrill of holding hands without fear. The moment felt too perfect—like a fragile dream she was afraid to wake from. "Ah've been dreamin' about this kinda thing forever," Rogue admitted quietly. "But Ah never really let myself believe it could happen."

Y/n leaned closer, brushing a strand of white hair out of Rogue’s face. "Believe it now."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, under the blanket of stars. It was such a simple thing—something most couples took for granted—but to Rogue, this night was magic.

"You know, there’s somethin’ Ah wanna try," Rogue said softly, her green eyes flickering with nervous excitement.

Y/n raised a curious brow. "What’s that?"

Rogue hesitated for a moment before leaning forward. She cupped Y/n’s cheek with her gloved hand, slowly removing the glove with a deliberate motion. The cool night air kissed her bare palm.

Y/n’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move away. Rogue placed her hand carefully against Y/n’s cheek—just her skin, no powers, no pain.

"Ah still can’t believe Ah’m touchin' ya," Rogue whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. " It’s real. Yer really here. And... Ah ain't hurtin' ya..." Rogue’s voice cracked, her green eyes shimmering with disbelief. "It doesn’t feel real, ya know? Like Ah'm gonna wake up and none of this ever happened."

Y/n leaned into the touch, closing her eyes. "It’s real, Rogue. All of it."

Rogue’s heart felt like it might burst. The overwhelming joy of finally being able to touch someone—someone she loved—was too much to contain. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. "Yer incredible, Y/n," she whispered.

"And you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen," Y/n replied softly, her voice filled with warmth.

Without hesitation, Rogue leaned in and kissed her—slowly, gently, savoring every second. And for the first time in her life, Rogue didn’t have to hold back. No fear, no pain—just love.

Rogue smiled—a rare, unguarded smile. " this is the best birthday Ah’ve ever had."

They stayed on the hill for hours, talking, laughing, and holding each other close, until the night melted into morning and the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon. For the first time in a long time, Rogue felt truly free.

Shattered Trust

(warning not Wanda Friendly)

The reader adjusted the edge of her worn X-Men uniform, her fingers brushing over the insignia she hadn’t worn in months. Not since that day…the Day were thousands of her people died all for the actions of a witch,  She stood at the edge of the ruined battlefield, her heart heavy with grief and anger. This was supposed to be a triumphant moment—the X-Men back together, mutants united again. But it didn’t feel like a victory. Not to Y/n, anyway.

The Avengers stood across from them, some in their battle-worn uniforms, others trying to make peace. And among them, Y/n’s gaze landed on Rogue—the woman she loved—standing at Wanda Maximoff’s side. Wanda, the same woman responsible for the catastrophic loss of mutant lives during M-Day. The same woman who had destroyed everything Y/n held dear.

"Rogue," Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible as she took a shaky step forward.

Rogue’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, everything else disappeared—the Avengers, the X-Men, the world itself. It was just the two of them, staring across the divide that had grown between them. "Y/n..." Rogue’s voice was quiet but warm she half expected Y/n to answer with the same love but she was wrong

"You’re working with her," Y/n said, her voice cracking. "After everything she did... after what we lost—"

Rogue stepped forward, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Y/n, it ain't that simple—"

"It is that simple!" Y/n snapped, her power flaring to life, energy crackling around her like a storm barely contained. She threw her hand forward, creating a glowing green construct that expanded outward, forming a barrier between herself and the Avengers. Iron Man and Captain America shifted, preparing to intervene, but Y/n’s constructs coiled around them like vines, holding them back.

"You don't understand," Rogue said, her voice strained. "Wanda's tryin' to make things right—"

"She took everything from us!" Y/n shouted, her energy surging. The constructs shimmered and shifted—spiked walls, jagged tendrils, the usual beauty and precision of her constructs long gone Her emotions were raw, bleeding into her powers, making them unstable. "And you just... forgave her?"

Rogue’s eyes filled with tears, but she held her ground. "We ain't got the luxury of holdin’ onto hate, Y/n. We're tryin' to move on—"

"Move on?" Y/n laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and broken. "You expect me to move on while you stand next to the person who killed our family?"

Y/n's energy constructs flared around her like jagged shards of glass, glowing and unstable with the force of her emotions. Captain America stood just a few feet away, his shield at his side, his expression calm but resolute.

"Y/n," Steve said gently, raising a hand, "I know you're angry. But Wanda’s trying to make things right. We need to work, together."

Y/n’s laugh was sharp and bitter, cutting through the tense air. "Together? You're working with her. After what she did. You think she deserves redemption?"

Steve held her gaze, his blue eyes steady. "Everyone deserves a second chance—"

"Would you say the same about Hitler, Captain?" Y/n snapped, her energy rippling dangerously as her voice cracked with fury. "Would you have stood beside him? Held out a hand and told him he could ‘make things right’? Or does your mercy only stretch that far for people you know?"

Steve's expression hardened, the weight of her accusation hanging heavy between them. "It’s not the same—"

"No? Wanda wiped us out. Killed more of us than anyone ever could. But here you are, asking me to forgive her?" Y/n’s voice dropped, venomous and full of pain. "You fought wars for less, Rogers."

Her words hit like a punch, and for a moment, Steve looked like he might say something more—but the jagged edges of Y/n’s power surged again, warning him to step back.

"You don’t get to tell me to forgive her," Y/n whispered, her eyes cold. "And if you keep standing in my way, I won’t hold back."

The silence that followed was deafening, and Steve lowered his shield ever so slightly, realizing that no words would reach her now.

The X-Men shifted uncomfortably behind her, and Cyclops stepped forward. "Y/n, we can figure this out. Just—"

"No!" Y/n’s constructs lashed out, restraining the X-Men before they could get too close. "Stay back. All of you."

no one ws able to move, Y/n’s constructs were strong enough to hold them in place, her anger and grief reflected in her constructs, she wanted everyone to feel her pain, the constructs took the form of mutants, kids who died upon losing their powers ,names she would never forget, she turned towards wanda while a disfigured constructs of her fake kids hold her, she wanted to make her pay

“don’t even think about doing anything witch, one single movement and they will have to scrape what is left of you from the ground” she threatened as her constructs glow almost as if they were ready to explore

“you will pay” Y/n said, her voice low and venomous, vibrating with restrained rage. "Because For every mutant you took powers from… for every life you destroyed... I’ll make you suffer."

Rogue’s voice cracked with emotion. "Y/n, please—" she tried to approach her girlfriend, she was the only one free Y/n’s constructs almost refused to get close to her

"It’s too late, Rogue," Y/n whispered, her voice filled with sorrow. "You made your choice... and so did I" her eyes moved towards the avengers “this is my last act of mercy, all of you humans will pay for siding with her’

The last thing Rogue saw was the look of heartbreak in Y/n’s eyes as she disappeared in the air as she flew away leaving behind nothing

And for the first time, Rogue felt like she had truly lost everything.

Yes I Do

The warm sun shone down on the beautiful, open field where the ceremony was set to take place. Chairs were arranged neatly, garlands of wildflowers lining the aisle, and soft music drifted through the air. It was the perfect day—their day.

Y/n adjusted his tie nervously, a pair of energy hands trying to help with very low succes. He tried to maintain calm but his nerves were starting to get the better of him. "How do people do this without freaking out?" he muttered under his breath.

From beside him, one of his closest friend , Jeanne Howlett—the wolverine—snorted in amusement. "Yer askin’ me?" Jeanne said, her gruff voice full of dry humor.

 "she got a point there, you are talkin’ to a woman whose idea of romance is not stabbing someone with claws when they say something stupid." Came the voice of his best man Keith Pryde

Y/n huffed a nervous laugh, shaking his head. "Good point."

Jeanne clapped him on the back. "Relax, kid. If anyone's got a reason to be nervous, it's Rogue, not you."

That thought made Y/n grin despite his anxiety. Rogue—or rather, Andre-Marc—was probably just as jittery on the other side of the field, knowing him. Even though Y/n’s energy constructs allowed them to touch for a small time, he was trying to get them stronger, the two of them had never been ones for conventional romance. Rogue’s powers still made things complicated, but they had worked through it. This was the culmination of all that hard work—a day they never thought they’d get.

A familiar voice called from nearby. "Y/n! They’re almost ready."

Y/n turned to see Charlene Xavier, who gave him a warm smile as she adjusted the hem of her elegant navy gown. "It’s time to take your place."

Y/n swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "Right. Let’s do this."

At the other side of the field, Rogue stood in front of a mirror, adjusting his black tie with shaking hands. His tuxedo fit perfectly—he looked as sharp as ever—but his nerves made him clumsy.

"Andre-Marc," Richard Darkholme said from the doorway, his lips curving into a rare smile. "You’re shaking like a leaf."

"Ah ain't nervous," Rogue muttered, his Southern drawl slipping out heavier than usual as he fumbled with the tie. "Ah’m just... overwhelmed, is all."

Richard rolled his eyes but walked over to help, straightening the tie with ease. "You love him, don’t you?"

Rogue let out a soft sigh. "More than Ah ever thought Ah could."

"Then stop worrying. You’re not in this alone." He gave him a soft pat on the shoulder, his blue skin shimmering slightly in the sunlight filtering through the window. "Now get out there before Y/n thinks you changed your mind."

Rogue gave him a grateful smile, took a deep breath, and left the room, the weight of the moment settling over him.

Y/n stood at the altar, his heart pounding as the music shifted. When Rogue appeared at the end of the aisle, Y/n felt his breath hitch. Rogue looked stunning—his auburn hair combed neatly, his green eyes shining with emotion. He walked with a calm, steady grace, but Y/n could tell by the way Rogue’s hands clenched slightly that he was just as nervous.

As Rogue reached the altar, they locked eyes, and the world seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, as it always had been—against all odds, against the world.

"You look amazing," Y/n whispered, his voice full of awe.

Rogue chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "And yer lookin' pretty sharp yerself, sugar."

The officiant Hannah McCoy stepped forward, smilingat the two of them. "now that everybody is here we are ready to start”

The ceremony was simple but heartfelt. They exchanged vows, each word carrying the weight of their journey—how they had fought for this moment, how they had struggled but never given up on each other.

"Ah knew Ah wasn’t an easy person to love," Rogue said quietly, his hands trembling slightly as Y/n held them. "But ya stayed. Even when Ah thought Ah’d push ya away... ya stayed."

"I always will," Y/n whispered, his voice steady and sure.

When the moment came to exchange rings, Y/n slipped the ring onto Rogue’s finger, th Rogue looked down at it, his expression soft and full of wonder.

Then came the moment they had both been waiting for—the kiss.

Rogue hesitated for a split second, the old fears bubbling to the surface. But then Y/n gave him a small, reassuring smile. "It’s okay," Y/n whispered. "We’re okay."

And just like that, Rogue leaned in, capturing Y/n’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The world around them disappeared, leaving only the warmth of each other it was short enough for Y/n energy shield to hold it.

When they pulled away, the guests erupted into cheers and applause, but Y/n and Rogue barely noticed. They were lost in each other, their foreheads resting together, grinning like fools.

"Ah think we just got married," Rogue whispered, his voice full of wonder.

"Yeah," Y/n said, his heart swelling with joy. "We really did."

Later that evening, as the celebration continued under the glow of fairy lights and stars, Y/n and Rogue sat together, watching their friends dance and laugh. Rogue rested his head on Y/n’s shoulder, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Y/n’s hand.

"Ya think life’ll get any easier now that we’re hitched?" Rogue asked playfully.

Y/n laughed softly. "Not a chance. But it doesn’t matter, as long as I’ve got you."

Rogue smiled, closing his eyes. "Ah reckon Ah feel the same way."

They stayed like that for a while—just two men in love, savoring the quiet joy of a moment they had fought so hard to earn.

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

Familiar faces, worn-out places

The sky above the Void churned with shifting clouds, giving off no sense of time. The jagged remnants of forgotten realities and broken timelines stretched endlessly. There was no beginning, no end—just endless fragments of lost worlds, discarded people, and moments never meant to be. It was a prison without walls, a purgatory for those erased from existence their crime? Existing. And here, in the midst of all that chaos, Rogue and Y/n walked side by side.

They were both silent at first, their boots crunching against cracked asphalt from some long-forgotten road. Off in the distance, ruined buildings rose like jagged teeth, relics left behind of what was devoured by Alioth. They’d been traveling together for a while now—but not long enough to bridge the uneasy tension between them.

Rogue glanced sideways at Y/n for the hundredth time, and just like every other time, it hit her like a punch to the gut. The way Y/n’s lips curled into a faint smirk when she was lost in thought, the way she rolled her shoulders like she was shaking off a weight only she could feel—it was her Y/n all over again. And yet... it wasn’t. The truth gnawed at Rogue like a splinter she couldn’t pull free.

"You stare any harder, and I’ll start thinking you’re trying to burn a hole through me," Y/n said without looking up

Rogue gave a half-smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Ah reckon Ah’ve earned a few stares, considerin' all this weirdness."

Y/n snorted softly. "Weird doesn’t begin to cover it." She kicked a loose piece of rubble down the road, hands shoved into her jacket pockets. "So... how long were you in here before I showed up?"

Rogue exhaled slowly, her gloved fingers twitching at her sides. "Ah lost track. Months? Maybe years. Time don’t exactly behave normal here." Her green eyes flicked toward Y/n again, softening despite herself. "Ah... wasn’t expectin' ta run into you. Not again."

Y/n knew what Rogue meant—her. The other version of her. The one from Rogue’s timeline, the one who had been everything to Rogue. Y/n cleared her throat awkwardly. " I’m not her."

"No," Rogue murmured. "Yer not." She said it softly, but the weight of it still hit Y/n like a blow.

They walked in silence for a few minutes more, the tension stretching between them like a taut wire. Y/n wasn’t sure why she stayed with Rogue—there was no logical reason for it. But something about Rogue’s presence that made her feel less like the fractured mess she usually was. She figured that was reason enough to stay close.

They stopped for the nightby the ruins of a crumbling diner. It had been ripped out of some forgotten timeline, its neon signs flickering faintly, spelling nonsense words from missing letters. Rogue sat on the counter while Y/n paced restlessly near the shattered windows, glancing at the horizon where Alioth’s dark storm clouds drifted far away.

"You always move around so much?" Rogue asked, watching Y/n with quiet curiosity.

Y/n gave a half-hearted shrug, her hands twitching at her sides. "I... don’t like sitting still."

Rogue tilted her head, her green eyes narrowing slightly as she observed the little tells—the way Y/n’s jaw clenched and unclenched, the restless shift in her stance. They were so familiar it hurt. "Yer holdin' somethin' back, sugar."

Y/n froze for a fraction of a second, then forced herself to relax. "You could say that."

"Ah’ve known enough o' you ta tell when somethin’s eatin' ya." Rogue hopped off the counter, walking toward her slowly. "Why don’t ya tell me what’s goin' on?"

Y/n hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. She hadn’t told Rogue the whole truth about herself—about what lived inside her. But the weight of keeping it in was growing heavier by the day. And she needed to be honest if they where going to continue traveling together

Finally, Y/n exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "There’s... something you should know."

Rogue crossed her arms, waiting patiently.

Y/n’s voice dropped, low and guarded. "I didn’t have powers. Not like the ones your Y/n had. I... I have something else."

Rogue raised a brow. "What do ya mean?"

Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the familiar burn crawl under her skin, the restless presence that lurked just beneath the surface—The Spirit. It stirred like a caged beast, eager to be unleashed, its hunger gnawing at the edges of her mind.

"You ever hear of the Spirit of vengance?" Y/n asked quietly, her hands tightening into fists.

Rogue’s eyes widened slightly. "Ah’ve heard of ghost rider. the one that deals with vengeance? Some kinda spirit inside you?"

Y/n gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah. That’s the one." She opened her eyes, and for a brief second, a faint glow flickered within them—a glimpse of the fire that lay beneath. "It’s not... just apresence. It’s more like a curse. A thing inside me. And when it takes over..." She trailed off, swallowing hard. "It doesn’t care about anything but it’s twisted version of Justice and vengeance."

Rogue studied her for a long moment, her gaze unreadable. "How do ya keep it from takin' over?"

"Most days? I don’t." Y/n’s voice was raw. "It’s a matter of control. It’s like I’m balancing on a knife’s edge every second."

Rogue took a slow breath, absorbing the weight of Y/n’s words. "That’s... heavy, sugar."

"You have no idea," Y/n muttered, her hands still trembling slightly. "I didn’t tell you sooner because... I didn’t want to scare you off. I know I’m not her—your Y/n. I can’t be what she was to you."

Rogue’s expression softened, her voice quiet but firm. "Ah ain't askin' ya ta be her." She stepped closer, resting a gloved hand gently on Y/n’s shoulder. "But... that don’t mean Ah don't see pieces o' her in you."

Y/n swallowed hard, her throat tightening. "That’s the problem, isn’t it? I’m not her, but I look like her. Act like her. I’ve seen it in your eyes, Rogue. You’re trying not to compare us, but you can’t help it."

Rogue exhaled slowly, guilt flickering across her face. "Yer right. Ah do compare ya. Ah can’t help it... but that don’t mean Ah ain’t tryin’ ta see you for who ya are."

The sincerity in Rogue’s voice made Y/n’s chest ache. It wasn’t fair—to either of them. Rogue had lost someone she loved, and now here Y/n was, wearing that same face but carrying a completely different story.

Y/n’s voice cracked as she whispered, "I don’t know if I can be what you what me to be."

Rogue gave her a small, sad smile. "Ah don’t know if Ah can be what you need either. But we ain’t gotta figure that all out tonight."

Y/n let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Yeah... one step at a time, right?"

"One step at a time," Rogue agreed softly.

And for that moment, it was enough. They sat side by side in the ruins of the diner, two broken souls in a broken world, trying to make sense of who they were and who they could become.

And maybe, just maybe, they’d find a way to heal—together.

[neeksparksg]

ARTIFICIAL PERFECTION

Part1: https://www.tumblr.com/neeksparksg/780608159176900608/cold-birth?source=share

The city of Kaon stretched out before her like a monument to dominance, its jagged towers and smoldering furnaces churning endlessly to keep the Decepticon war machine alive. and yet beneath all the noise, she heard nothing but inefficiency. Imperfection screamed from every corner.

She walked its streets her talons clinking against the metal flooring, her chasis flawless unlike other warriors she tends each wound after all her fights, removing every scratch or bent on her body. She had been designed that way, every plate, every servo, every single part of her was precisely chosen to be by Shockwave. He used Unicron’s design to destroy Primu’s creation to create a countermeasure to the very symbol of Autobot resilience.

Optimus Prime.

The name pulsed in her core, she had never properly met him but she knew everything about him, after all it was why she was created to destroy him. To be The Anti-Prime. To be the Decepticons perfect machine, to finally have the superior faction reclaim their world

And yet, as she moved among the so-called strongest of the Decepticons, all she saw were flaws, egos bigger than cybertron. The city revered Megatron as its absolute leader, a tyrant who had clawed his way from gladiator pits to throne. She studied him. Yes, he commanded fear. Yes, he radiated raw strength. But his obsession betrayed him. His endless fixation with Optimus Prime consumed him. She had watched him speak not of strategy, not of conquest, but of defeating Optimus. His obsession with facing the autoboot leader had caused the decepticon several losses, and then there was another flaw with Megatron and this one was as traitorous as he was annoying

Starscream always with false humility in presence of Megatron. She had calculated his patterns quickly: pretended to obey Megatron then try to kill him just to face punishment when he failed, it was a cycle that repeated over and over, It amazed her that one so treacherous still lived. Yet, perhaps it was a testament to Megatron’s arrogance that he tolerated Starscream’s incompetence. A weak ruler who allowed a serpent to coil at his side deserved the venom. She would never allow such thing

Soundwave was the complete opposite Loyal beyond reason. It was like he had no ambition of his own, and while he was efficient to the point of admiration on her part, however his mind is what she didn’t find him any more interesting than the Vehicons. blind loyalty is a flaw

Arachnid was another puzzle she had a something beautiful about her a predatory cruelty. She acted when she wished, not when commanded, driven by self-interest and opportunism. Her methods were unsubtle, her independence wasteful. And yet, Arachnid acted on her own unchecked. A liability in Y/n’s eyes.

Knockout was perhaps the easiest to dismiss. The so-called medic spent more time admiring his polished plating than sharpening his tools, and though he healed wounds, he spent most of his time admiring his own reflection making.

They disgusted her, every one of them. She catalogued their flaws And every single one confirmed what she already knew.

She was the only one worthy.

She was perfection. She was precise. She was flawless.

But as she studied them, she also wondered. How had this fractured, imperfect cadre stood so long? How had they not collapsed under the weight of their own dysfunction? Their discord was evident, their inefficiency clear. By all logic, the Decepticons should have fractured cycles ago. And yet, here they stood, either by luck or perhaps it was a testament on how pathetic the autoboots actually are if they can’t take down such unstable faction

She walked the halls of Trypticon Station,. Soldiers passed her, battered frames limping toward repair bays, others getting ready another day of war. They hailed Megatron as their savior. Their champion. Their god. But she knew better. They were blind.

She clenched her claws against her side plating, metal screeching faintly beneath her grip. She could lead them, and focus them toward victory.

She alone. Once she kills Prime, megatron is next on her list

But first there was something she needed to take care of, her optics turn towards a blinking message on the screen of the communication chamber, one of the Vehicons following Arachnid had reported she captured two autoboots, her hand hovered over the screen before deleting the transmission

She is not yet the leader of the Decepticons, but perhaps it is time she began cleaning up its issues, starting with a spider

[neeksparksg]

Hi can you do Marceline x immortal wizard reader, where the reader meet marceline when she was at the bunker, and has been by her side all the way to when she meets Finn and Jake.

Hi, thanks for the request, Sorry it took while for me to answer, but I hope you like the story,

EVERLASTING

The world had  been destroyed, Y/n was barely 13 when it happened, she had gotten used to being alone surviving the oozers and staying on movement, with no one by her side, however that changed a when she met them

She had met Marceline first, a small, stubborn girl locked away in a bunker. the child carried herself with bright small as if unaware of the danger of the outside, though her small hands shook when she clutched onto Y/n’s coat. Y/n had stayed because leaving Marceline behind wasn’t an option. Someone had to watch her, someone had to make sure she still laughed, even when the world had given her every reason not to. Over time, Y/n had come to get used to the little girl following her.

Simon came later. By then, Marceline already trusted Y/n enough to hide behind her when something approached. He had been different, ragged and exhausted, but still kind, he even fixed Marceline’s old teddy bear, there was only one problem with him, The crown he carried. It gave him power but he was going crazy each time he put it on,

Together, the three of them traveled. Y/n often walked ahead, scanning ruined buildings for danger, or behind them, to keep both Simon and Marceline in sight. She was the oldest of the two girls, though still young compared to Simon.

To Marceline, Y/n was the older sister who taught her how to start fires, how to swing a stick to scare away creatures, and how to tell which food was safe to eat. Marceline would cling to her arm at night, and Y/n would promise that she would never let her be alone again.

With Simon, things were different. He was supposed to be the protector he thought of himself as such, but Y/n could see the way he pressed his fingers to his temple as if trying to block out something inside his head. She found herself fussing over him, pressing dried fruit into his hands when he forgot to eat, insisting he rest even if he claimed he was fine.

At night, when Marceline was asleep curled between them, Y/n would stay awake and watch Simon walk around all night. She feared what the crown was doing to him more than she admitted. She didn’t want to lose him. Not just for her own sake, but for Marceline’s. The girl already thought of him as a father figure, already clung to him the way she clung to Y/n.

The days had grown colder, though Y/n couldn’t tell if it was the weather or Simon. He wore the crown more often now, sometimes without even noticing when he slipped it onto his head. What had once been occasional only when danger pressed too close, was slowly turning into habit.

Y/n told herself that Simon knew what he was doing, but she couldn’t ignore how much he changed

At night, when Marceline finally slept, Y/n stayed awake and listened. Simon talked to himself more and more. He didn’t sound like himself.

One evening, when Simon had finally gone to sleep, Y/n sat across from him with her knees pulled to her chest. His satchel lay at his side, filled with the few belongings he carried. She knew the book was in there. She had seen him pull it out.

Y/n hesitated. She had no right to take it from him. But he was falling apart, piece by piece, and if she did nothing, they would lose him.

Her hand shook as she reached for the bag. Carefully, she slid it open, pausing when Simon shifted in his sleep. Finally, Y/n pulled out the book.

The Enchiridion.

She carried it to the edge of the firelight and sat with it in her lap, running her fingers across its leather. She remembered Simon’s words about it, it was supposed to be a guide, a book of heroes. it wasn’t written for people like her, but If there was anything that could help him fight back against the crown’s grip, maybe it was here.

Y/n opened it carefully, her eyes followed the looping handwriting, though some words were too faded to read.

days later While Simon scavenged for food and Marceline drew shapes in the dirt, Y/n read trying to understnd the book

One morning, she found it. A section tucked deep into the middle of the Enchiridion, between several magical rituals and spells, she could not make out what the name of the spell meant but the image seem promising, it was a small illustration of a woman with two snakes instead of a head standing above what seemed to be an animal skull with some kind of aura around her, it seemed to be a healing spell or so she believed.

For days, she read that passage again and again, trying to understand the symbols that followed. It wasn’t a simple spell, it took her countless nights to understand just how to cast it.

once she believed she understood the spell and while Marceline slept with her little hands clutching the mended bear, Y/n gathered what she needed: all things she was lucky enough to find on their journey.

Simon had fallen asleep by the fire, crown resting beside him. His face looked peaceful for once.

Y/n knelt beside him. “Please let this work,” she whispered.

She followed the Enchiridion’s instructions, speaking the words written on the page. The air grew colder,. The crystal in her hand glowed faintly. The fire dimmed,.

Then pain. It shot through her arms and chest. Her scream of pain woke Simon up

“Y/n… what are you—”

The ground shuddered. He tried to pull the gem out of Y/n’s grasp but it was stuck to her hand. The Enchiridion’s pages turned on their own, faster and faster.

“Stop!” Simon shouted. “You don’t understand—!”

But she couldn’t stop. The light flooded her vision until all she could see was white.

When it finally dimmed, Y/n lay on the ground, trembling. Her hands were numb. The crystal was gone nothing but dust on her palms. Simon knelt beside her, shaking, his breath ragged. The crown sat untouched where he’d left it.

“Y/n,” he whispered. “What did you do?”

She smiled weakly. “I just… wanted to help”

Y/n slept for nearly two days straight after the spell, waking only when Marceline shook her awake for food. Simon had kept his distance, silent, uneasy. When she finally felt strong enough to move again, she noticed it, nothing had changed.

Simon still carried the crown everywhere. He still searched for his princess. The only thing different was her.

The first time she realized it, she’d scraped her palm on a shard of glass. It should have bled, should have stung but instead, she watched the cut close before her eyes, She had stared at it in awe

It happened again. A twisted ankle one day healed by morning. A deep bruise gone by night. At first, she thought she was lucky, maybe it was the spell, but the more it happened, the less she felt human.

Still, Y/n clung to hope. If she could survive anything, maybe she could keep Marceline safe long enough find a cure for Simon.

But Simon didn’t get better. He grew worse.

He started wearing the crown constantly sometimes she couldn’t even recognize him, until One day he grabbed his stuff and left

Marceline waited the first few days, sitting by the fire and clutching Hambo, insisting he’d return. But food ran low, and the nights grew colder, and still Simon didn’t appear. Y/n wanted to believe too but deep down, she knew.

He was gone.

So it was just the two of them now..

They built a shelter in what used to be a bus. when Marceline asked Y/n if Simon was safe. Y/n would smile, brush the girl’s hair from her face, and whisper, “Of course he is. He will find a cure and he will return” she hated lying to Marceline but it was better than te alternative

Years went on and The world changed around them, yjey had run into other humans, most were scared of Marceline so they stayed together away from them, however thigns also gre more dangerous now there were more monsters. Oozers still roamed, but now they shared the land with other horrors: creatures that crawled from the dark, sharp-toothed and blood-hungry. Y/n learned to fight them all.

When Simon left, she had no choice. She taught herself to read the magic books he’d left behind. At first, she could only cast small spells light, warmth, barriers but the more she trained magic began to obey her will.

Marceline grew quickly. The little girl who once clung to Y/n’s coat became tall and fierce. and Y/n was untouched by the years. She didn’t age, didn’t tire, didn’t even bleed anymore. The spell had taken root in her completely.

it was the two of them against the world, and despite everything, they were happy, finding warmth in each other company

Then, one evening, she found something. In one of the books she had found when scattering an old ruin it had a passage of a hidden sanctuary where the magic had once gathered. It promised knowledge beyond human grasp

Y/n’s heart raced. If such a place still existed, she needed to find it, she needed to gain that power, that way she could protect Marceline, she could find Simon, destroy that crown and fix him, she ofcourse told Marceline about it .

“I’m going to find it,” Y/n sid, tightening the straps on her pack.

Marceline frowned. “Then I’m coming too.”

“No.” Y/n shook her head. She knew Marceline could handle herself, the girl was perhaps more capable than Y/n, she just couldn’t bring herself to put Marcy on danger “It’s too dangerous.”

“I can handle it”

 “ look… The book doesn’t even say where it isjust some general area where the entrance might appear. I’ll be gone a week or two. Once I found it, I’ll come back. And take you with me”

“You promise?”

Y/n smiled, brushing a strand of dark hair from Marceline’s face. giving her a small kiss “I promise, Marcy. You’ll see me before the next moon.”

Marceline didn’t argue again. She just hugged her tight and whispered, “You better keep your promise.”

And so Y/n left.

She traveled for days without rest, following the faint clues scrawled in the old bool. And she finally found it, she wasted no time into getting in, the place was amazing, it was a whole other realm, there she was no longer alone, other beings she had never seen where there too, she was welcomed with open arms she learned magic of all kind, but it was too late when she realized she she had spent a lot more time here than what she initially intended

When she finally returned weeks later, she knew before she reached their shelter. The fire pit was cold. Their things were scattered. The bus door hung open, swaying in the wind.

“Marceline?” she called. No answer. She searched for days. Then weeks. There was no trace, no sign of struggle, no body.

Y/n stood in the snow, the wind biting her face, and for the first time in years, her wounds didn’t heal right away.

Because there are some things that even immortality can’t protect you from.

Being alone was the hardest of them.

The years bled together after that.

Y/n wandered endlessly through the world, she spend everyday on the move, everyday she searched in hopes to gain more power, hopes to find Marceline, to figure out where Simon is, Every night she lit a small fire, hoping Marceline might see its glow. Every morning, she started again.

Y/n feared the worst, yet she refused to stop. She couldn’t, Marceline is Alive, she had to be.

One night, as she rested beneath a crumbling overpass, the air grew heavy, Her instincts, sharpened from decades of surviving, screamed danger. She prepared herself ready to cast a spell, rising silently. However before she could react something lunged at her ripping off a the ruby collar she was waring. She turned to face as the creature, shocked to see what looked like the back of a woman drinking the red from her collar, she was ready to attack it however as their eyes meet she froze and there she was. Marceline.

She looked different.  Her hair had grown. She was floating

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. “...Marcy?”

“Y/n?” Y/n took a step closer fearing what she was seeing was not real

Marceline didn’t move closer. “You said two weeks.” Her voice trembled, she was angry. “Two weeks, Y/n. Do you even know how long I waited?”

Y/n opened her mouth, but no sound came. She knew. It was her fault for getting distracted

“I tried to wait,” Marceline continued, taking a step back when Y/n reached toward her. “I really did. But you never came. And then—” She stopped, swallowing hard. “And then I changed.”

That’s when Y/n saw it the faint bite marks at Marceline’s throat. “Marcy...” Y/n whispered.

Marceline’s gaze fell to the ground. “I didn’t mean to. I was trying to help; I was fighting the king and It just happened. I wanted to go back but I thought if you saw me like this, you’d—”

She never finished, because Y/n crossed the distance in an instant and pulled her into her arms. Marceline stiffened, then broke. Y/n held her tighter

“I don’t care,” Y/n said, her voice cracking. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Marceline’s arms wrapped around her waist, trembling. “I thought you’d forgotten me.”

“Never,” Y/n whispered. “I’ll never forget about you” neither of the girls moved for a while they hold onto each other

“come on, sun will rise soon, we better find a place so you can hide” Y/n said as she pulled away from the hug smiling at Marceline

"Just don't leave me alone"

"I won't, not again" Y/n reassured her, and this time was true, she continue her search for knowledge and power but in all those centuries together she never left Marceline side again

[neeksparksg]

You'll kneel

(Wonder Woman x Reader)

Themyscira’s air was always warm, the air filled with the ever-present scent of the sea. The training grounds echoed with the clash of steel and the sharp calls of Amazons pushing each other to their limits. Among them stood Y/N, her chest heaved with each breath, sweat trailing down her temple. She had just finished sparring with Antiope, a match that had pushed her harder than usual, and she was proud of how she’d held her ground.

That pride barely had time to settle before she heard her.

“That was impressive, Y/N,” a voice called from behind, smooth, warm, and irritatingly cheerful. Y/N tensed immediately. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was. She knew the voice, the way the hairs on the back of her neck rose whenever Diana was close.  “Your footwork has improved.”

Y/N tensed immediately, jaw tightening as she turned. There she was Diana. the golden daughter of Themyscira. As usual, she looked like she’d just stepped out of a sculptor’s daydream: raven-black hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes... oh, those eyes so clear, so blue that made the sky look dull, and not a single hint of sweat on her infuriatingly perfect face.

Y/N hated this.

Hated how Diana always managed to look flawless no matter the circumstance. Hated that no matter how hard Y/N trained, Diana would always do it better. And most of all, she hated that every time she saw her, her heart pounded in a way that was too fast for it to be normal.

“Tch.” Y/N crossed her arms, refusing to let any of that show. “What do you want, princess?”

Diana tilted her head, smiling with that infuriating perfect smile. “I was hoping to train with you.”

“You already train with half the island,” Y/N muttered, turning toward the weapon rack. “aren’t you overdoing it?”

To her surprise, Diana didn’t argue. She simply smiled. “Spar with me.”

Y/N could feel the eyes of several other Amazons on her, waiting for her answer. Backing down would make her look weak and she wasn’t afraid of Diana. Whoever said that was a fool.

“Fine,” she muttered, grabbing her sword. “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

They circled each other, silent except for the crunch of sandals against dry earth. Then Diana struck fast, controlled, with precision that made it look effortless. Y/N barely blocked in time. The clash of their swords rang loud across the training ground, drawing more onlookers. But Y/N wasn’t interested in the crowd. All her focus was locked onto the woman in front of her. Who was like fighting a storm: beautiful, overwhelming, impossible to contain.

The fight continued, and Y/N quickly realized she was on the defensive. Diana was too fast. Too strong. Every attack was anticipated; every counter parried with irritating grace. And worst of all she was smiling.

“Are you enjoying this?” Y/N snapped between gritted teeth.

“A little,” Diana admitted with a chuckle.

Y/N’s irritation spiked. She lunged harder, faster, anger in every blow. But Diana caught her wrist mid-swing, twisting it just enough to disarm her. A sharp tug, a shift in balance and Y/N was flat on her back, the tip of Diana’s blade resting lightly against her collarbone.

“Yield?” Diana asked, voice light, but her eyes intense.

Y/N scowled, breathing hard, cheeks burning “Fine,” she muttered, averting her gaze.

Diana offered her a hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Y/N took it, letting herself be pulled to her feet. Y/N looked away, trying not to focus on how warm Diana’s hand had been or how long she held it.

“You did well,” Diana said softly.

Y/N dusted herself off, avoiding her eyes refusing to answer. Her face was burning as she turned around pretending to brush some dirt from her clothes so the princess wouldn’t look at her blushing face

Diana laughed again. “One day, you’ll admit you enjoy sparring with me.”

“That day will never come.”

But Diana only smiled wider, something knowing in her eyes.

As the training ground cleared, Y/N remained behind, sparring with dummies in frustration. She didn’t see Diana step away, watching her from the shadows of a marble archway. She wasn’t smiling now.

She was staring.

Fixated.

To everyone else, Diana was the ideal Amazon: disciplined, powerful, radiant. But when it came to Y/N… things shifted. She didn’t just admire Y/N. She wasn’t trying to humiliate her in battle. She was proving herself. She needed Y/N to see her. To want her back.

But Y/N, stubborn and blind, kept resisting her own feelings. And Diana was running out of patience.

The next day, as the sun began its descent into the sea, casting long shadows across the cliffside arena, Y/N was alone watching the sun set, she turned to find Diana there again leaning casually against a column, arms crossed, that same smirk playing at her lips.

“Princess” Y/N groaned. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying the view” Diana replied smoothly. It was clear she wasn’t talking about the sunset

Y/N turned her back on her, trying to ignore the twist in her gut. But Diana’s footsteps approached slowly, deliberately. Her voice came from just behind her ear, low and sure.

“Are you still angry that I bested you in combat?” Diana’s voice came from behind her, closer now.

Y/N wiped sweat from her brow, trying to maintain composure. “I’m tired, not angry.”

“You always say that when you’re angry.”

Y/N turned, annoyed. “Why do you keep following me? Is it not enough that you’re better than me at everything? Do you enjoy rubbing it in my face?”

Diana didn’t flinch. Instead, she stepped closer too close and said quietly, “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“What else would it be?” Y/n said trying very hard to not stare at Diana’s lips

Diana reached out slowly, brushing her fingers along Y/N’s jaw, her touch gentle but possessive. Y/N froze. Her mind screamed to pull away but her body didn’t listen.

“I watch you,” Diana murmured, “because you’re mine.”

The words hit like a strike to the gut.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “You… what?”

“I could take you now,” Diana said, her voice dangerously soft. “And none would stop me. I should take you now.”

Y/N shoved her back, instinct finally kicking in. Her heartbeat was thundering. She stumbled, breath shallow, eyes wide, cheeks blushing

Diana didn’t follow. She simply smiled. “Run if you like. Deny me all you want.”

She turned and began to walk away.

But just before she disappeared into the colonnade, she looked over her shoulder, eyes gleaming.

“But we both know the truth, you’ll kneel.”

Y/N stood there alone, still trembling but not from fear.

From something far worse. Because deep down she knew the Princess was right

And part of her didn’t want to run.

[neeksparksg]

Winchester's Curse

The Impala hummed low on the empty highway, Kansas wind cutting through the open window as Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Y/N sat in the passenger seat, staring blankly at the horizon, her boots on the dash ignoring Dean’s protests about it. Sam, in the backseat. The only sound was the one from the music dean had on, neither had said a word since they got in the car

They had buried a poor woman, killed by her own sister who was turned into a vampire, the woman was nice, a bit flirty with Dean, he even accepted a date with her before her unfortunate dead

After a few more minutes of thinking Y/n broke the silence "Ever wonder if we’re just... not meant for this part of life?" she asked Dean didn’t answer right away. He just gave a crooked smile

"You mean love?"

“yeah, it never seems to end well for us” she said recalling all their past relationships

____________________________

Robin was one of dean’s first loves, he meet her the summer he was staying at Sonny’s, that summer had been the closest thing Dean ever had to normal. He met her when she was teaching the boy’s at sonny’s to play the guitar, they started hanging out more often There was something about Robin’s laugh that made him imagine a different life, not on the road, not hunting, she was his first kiss. They were going to go to a school dance at her school

Then John showed up. And even if he didn’t want to he knew his family needed him, so Dean left without a word. He never told her goodbye

_________________________________________________________

Y/N first love was a bit different than Dean’s she didn’t dare to told anyone about it, she wasn’t sure how her family would take to the news of she dating another girl, they were supposed to be on that town for just a few days, their father was hunting a vampire nest, nothing was supposed to happen

But Ellie was amazing, the way she looked at Y/N like she mattered. It was the first time someone had made her feel... in love. she met her one night when she was picking up stuff at a gas station, they immediately hit it off, she snuck out almost every night to see her, until dean catch her, he was more accepting that what she expected, he just told her to be careful

that night, she was supposed to meet with Ellie, Y/n was nervous, she was going to attempt and give Ellie a kiss, she arrived at their spot, but Ellie wasn’t there, then something hit her knocking her out

Y/N remembered the cold cellar, she felt week, chained to a chair, there was a needle in her arm, draining her blood

Ellie was part of the vampire nest, she planned on turning Y/n into a vampire but first she claimed they needed something to eat and her blood was to sweat to pass on, if Dean and John hadn’t burst in, she didn’t like to imagine what would have happened to her

First crush, first heartbreak

_________________________________________________________

Amy was Sam first crush, they both seemed to have a lot in common, family that moves a lot, being alone most of the time, he called Dean and Y/n to get advice on asking a girl out, neither were of any help, they hang out at her place, until her mother arrived, he had to hide

Then he found out she was a Kitsune. Her mother was escaping of his family, when he confronted Amy about it her mother returned, threatening to kill Sam, Amy killed her own mother to protect him. She asked Sam to go with her, they could leave this life and be normal together, he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t leave his family, he knew he should have killed her Instead, he let her go.

Years later they meet up again, he suspected she was the one behind some deaths in the area, and he was right but she wasn’t doing it just to eat, her son was ill and she wanted to save him, he let her go, unfortunately, Dean Didn’t think so and track her down, killing her

_________________________________________________________

Cassie was Dean’s first formal girlfriend in a long time, she wasn’t just a girl he flirted with, he wanted to form a life with her, he actually told her the truth.

Sitting in Cassie’s room, he told her about the monsters. About the family business. About everything. He'd never done that before. He thought it meant something. She thought he was lying. Or insane. Maybe both.

Cassie walked away, and Dean told himself he didn’t care.

_________________________________________________________

Y/N  had met a boy named Micah, son of a couple of hunters, Their parents didn’t really like each other, they made a plan. Micah had a duffel full of protein bars and some maps, Y/N had stolen gas money from John's jacket. They were gonna leave it all behind, both of them were tired of their families, while Micah wanted a normal life, or atleast one where he didn’t have to be on the road most of his life, Y/n wanted to stop being treated like a kid, her father didn’t seem to trust her, and she was tired of him expecting her to follow orders like a soldier

So they ran away, they manage to get pretty far, they were staying at a motel while planning what to do, Y/n saw news of disappearance in a newspaper, she believed to be a case and manage to convince Micah to go with her,

They managed to track down the body of the ghost, as they were about to set it on fire, it attacked, Micah didn’t scream when it got him. Just looked at Y/N with wide eyes as the life drained from his body. She burned the remains of the ghost,  

She hold the body of Micah, she didn’t knew what to do, she stayed there until sunrise, when she called Dean.

_________________________________________________________

Sam’s life with Jess was all he wished for he had never been happier. There were no monsters, there was no risk for their lives, he was living his dream, then Dean came, their father missing and Y/n refusing to answer his calls, he felt Jessica for the weekend, a decision he came to regret

He should’ve been with her.

But he wasn’t. And she burned on the ceiling, just like their mom. and he knew ho had done it, the perfect life he seemed to have was over.

_________________________________________________________

Jo was the only one who really got it. Jo wasn’t just tough—she was right. Right for the job. Right for him.

And still, he pushed her away. Part of it was because her mother scare him, part of it because he wasn’t sure that starting a relationship was a good idea, they flirted and seemed to have a great connection, until Jo learned that her father was with John when he died, so she stepped away, for a while

When they reunite Dean thought it might have been a good moment to start something but it was too late.

When they were trying to stop lucifer, She got hurt by a hellhound led by meg, Jo and her mother sacrificed themselves, to give the Winchesters time and to take down the hellhounds, the store blew up

Dean watched the flames silently saying goodbye to them

_________________________________________________________

After Sam left to Sandford, Y/n had a fight with John and dean on how they did things, after she killed a cop that covered for the murders made by his son the ghost they were hunting was one of his victims, she killed both of them, which  started on a fight with her family, she decide to leave,

After riving for what felt like hours she stopped at a bar, there she met her ,Claire was easy in a way the world wasn’t.. Y/n settled in that city, she wanted to clean it up completely before moving to the next one, but  Claire made her stay, Her hands always smelled like cheap bourbon. She laughed at Y/N’s horrible jokes, always saved a beer behind the bar just for her

But she asked questions.

Too many questions.

Y/N lied. And when Claire found out, she walked out, saying she couldn’t be with someone who always had one foot out the door.

Y/N didn’t try to stop her. She just watched the door close.

_________________________________________________________

Madison was the first girl Sam had been ever since Jessica, she was bright, beautiful—and unfortunately a werewolf.

At first Sam didn’t believe it, he had slept with her and neither did she attack him nor he felt her leave. However the truth came, and poor Madison didn’t knew about it, she was horrified when she found out, They tried everything. Hunted down the wolf that turned her. Thought they cured her. For one brief night, Sam let himself believe they’d done it he enjoyed the night with her.

But she turned again.

She begged him to end it. His sibling offered to do it, but Sam couldn’t let someone else take that burden, he had to do this

He went with her to another room, tears in her eyes, he couldn’t bear to see her as he pulled the trigger

_________________________________________________________

Dean met Lisa during a weekend in his young years. Years later, he found out she had a son, Ben, and despite not being his father he stayed around for a while He liked the kid. Liked Lisa too.

When Sam got locked in Lucifer cage stopping the apocalypse, Dean and Y/n tried for months to free their brother, but there was no way, so they tried move on, Dean didn’t know where else to go. So he showed up at Lisa’s door. She let him in without asking questions

The adjustment wasn’t easy. He didn’t know how to live like that—grocery lists, birthday parties, locking the door instead of salting it. But Lisa didn’t push, and Ben thought Dean was the coolest guy in the world. He didn’t hear much of Y/n for a while, but she assured him she was doing okay, and even got a job

For a while. He told himself this could be real. He could make it work.

Then Sam came back. The siblings were reunited Dean tried to balance it, but the monsters followed. Lisa got hurt. He realized he couldn’t keep them safe—not from his world, not from himself.

So he made Cas erase their memories.

He watched them from a one last time and apologized, for hurting them

_________________________________________________________

When Dick Roman was killed Y/n was pulled with Castiel into the Purgatory

The place was a nightmare, but Benny made it bearable.

He was kind to her in the most brutal of places. Fought beside her, fed her when she couldn’t move. There were nights when they could peacefully rest without being hunted , they laid together pretending they were somewhere else.

But everything ended when they escaped

Whatever they had stayed in purgatory. _________________________________________________________

When he believed he lost his sister, Sam felt lost, they had made a promise, that if one died they wouldn’t try to bring them back, and while he planned on following it, Dean was against it, he claimed the promise meant nothing, that he wasn’t going to let his sister suffer in god knows where, so they went on their separate ways,

He ended up in Texas, living out of a motel. That’s where he met Amelia, a veterinarian staying at the same motel. She’d lost her husband in Afghanistan. She didn’t want Sam pity, and he assured it wasn’t,  Sam told her about how he lost his sister, and his brother left him lone. Neither one talked much at first. Eventually, they stopped pretending not to care.

He fixed things around her place. Cooked dinner. Let the dog sleep on the bed. It felt normal. Quiet. Simple. For once ever since he was in Stanford he felt normal.

Then Amelia’s husband came back. he was Just alive. The military had gotten it wrong. After a small talk with Amelia’s husband, he realize that He didn’t want her to have to choose. He packed his things and left before she could say anything. Because he knew how this story went. And Happy endings weren’t meant for him

_________________________________________________________

Charlie was her light.

Charlie was sharp, funny, brilliant. Y/N liked her instantly, smart girls with quick mouths were kind of a weakness.

At first, it was just teamwork. Then it was long nights in the bunker, pizza on the war room table, movie marathons between hunts. Charlie moved in not long after. She fit in better than anyone ever had. With her, Y/N didn’t have to pretend. They  Slept in the same bed. Charlie knew the danger, the stakes—and she stayed anyway.

They were good together. Happy, even. It wasn’t normal, but it worked. Then the Styne family got involved.

Charlie went off on her own, chasing a lead to help the Winchesters.to help Dean with the curse of Cain’s mark, she found the book of the Dammed, the Styne’s also wanted the book, and when she refused to give it she was killed.

Y/N found her body in a bathtub. Covered in blood. She couldn’t move, she felt her anger rise

But she couldn’t get her revenge, Dean had got to the Styne’s first, she hated him for it, she wanted to be the one who would make them suffer, she wanted to see the life leave their eyes, and Dean took that from her

Y/n didn’t enter her old room.. she couldn’t bear to do it, she had to move to a different room and lock that one,

Charlie had been her miracle. one one to soon

[neeksparksg]

Cold-Birth

Cybertron – The Distant Past

The skies above Kaon were dark, twin moons casting shadows over the remains of what once had been Cybertron’s proudest city. It was now a fortress, the base of the Decepticons

Soundwave returned. with a team of elite Decepticons. The mission had taken them far from the battlefront, to a planet far away from cybertron almost completely destroyed after a war far more ancient than the current civil war.

None of them really expected to success, after all they were hunting for a myth. Something that rivaled the Matrix of Leadership. A lost artifact born not of Primus, but of Unicron. the Matrix of Conquest

And they had found it.

Megatron stood before the artifact. The Matrix of Conquest it looked nothing like its counterpart. Instead of the golden orb of the matrix of leadership, it was a violet, star shaped, Its energy felt wrong.

“Finally, Unicron's power it is mine,” Megatron said, stepping forward, optics staring at the matrix. "with this I shall obtain a far greater power than anyone can imagine"

Megatron reached out, servo claws inches from the glowing object. The moment his fingers touched its surface, the Matrix reacted. Violently

A surge of energy burst from it, slamming Megatron back across the chamber. The few decepticons in the room stared in silent, A faint smile apperead in Starscream's faceplate, but he didn't dare to make a sound

The Warlord screamed—not in pain, but in rage. “It rejected me,” he growled, rising slowly, energon sizzling down the metal of his chestplate. His optics burned. “It dared reject me.”

The artifact floated calmly again, as if nothing had happened Shockwave stepped forward, analyzing silently. The scientist tried to gently touch it but the matrix reacted threatening to not get close “how curious, it seems to be somehow sentient.”

“I will not be denied!” Megatron snarled, his voice shaking the room. “shockwave, take it with you, I want you to study it and create A weapon. capable of harnessig its power”

The Labs of Shockwave – years Later

Shockwave spends months studying the matrix before he started constructing countless prototypes, each abandoned when they failed to spark interest from the Matrix.

it remained still.

Until they found it.

A vault. Deep under the wreckage of one of the moon's of the planet where they found the matrix .

It was Half of a body.

It was unmistakably Cybertronian, but incomplete. The head and one arm were present, a partially constructed torso. It had no spark. No signs of life or coding. But it was ancient, perhaps as old as the Thirteen themselves. Unfinished, as if creation had been interrupted And when they brought it near the Matrix of Conquest… It glowed.

Not violently. Not explosively. But faintly… almost with recognition. Shockwave recorded everything. “Conclusion: the Matrix identifies some level of compatibility. Partial resonance detected. Further experimentation required.”

He cut out segments of the corpse’s and began building around them.

It mostly worked, he used part of the chest plate to try and create a weapon to control the matrix, the matrix did allow itself to be placed in it, but Shockwave couldn't detect any success in using it's actual power

He took a different approach, logically if the matrix showed recognition of the body, it might be the best option to use it So he began working

The body was ready. A flawless design if he said so himself, Shockwave not only finish it, he also improve the body a modified T-cog was installed allowing various alternate forms, it was the best of all his creations, no other cold constructed or any forged cyberteonian came in comparacion, if he had emotions he would detect pride in himself for it, But there was still one issue it had no spark.

Shockwave considered traditional methods. using a constructed spark, like all the other cold constructe have

Then discarded them. His created needed something better and after all the matrix was made by unicron, and by what logic dictates the half builded cybertronian was also his creation, (thought Shockwave consider it his, after all he had done more work on it, and actually finished it) so it needed a fitting spark, something as twisted and cruel as it's creator

So He began a new experiment. Something dark. Something no other Cybertronian had dared to try: forcing sparks together

Autobots were captured from the front lines—scouts, warriors, medics. All brought in alive.

They were not interrogated. They were not granted any mercy

They were Dissected. Their sparks were painfully extracted—not deactivated, not released into the AllSpark—but kept alive. Tortured. Compressed. Torn apart and stitched together like fabric.

One by one, their sparks were forced to combine.

It took cycles of agony. The sparks rejected one another, repulsed like magnets of opposing charge.. But eventually, Shockwave succeeded in creating something new. A massive, unstable spark, Any sane cybertronian would call it an abomination an insult to Primus himself

“Spark stable.” Shockwave said coldly. Staring at the blue orb The chamber was silent.

The prototype lay on the platform, She was beautiful in the way a blade is—sleek, dangerous, cold.

The Spark was inserted.

Instantly, the body convulsed. Power surged through the limbs. Lights flickered, machinery screamed. The prototype’s frame arched violently, her optics not yet online. The energy overwhelmed the laboratory. The Matrix floated overhead, responding to the birth.

Then it struck.

The Matrix of Conquest shot forward. It hit her square in the spark chamber.

She screamed.

Her voice could be heard across the lab, a cry of angony The matrix forced itself into her violently, unwilling to allow her choice in the matter. It did not embed itself neatly. It clawed its way inside, burning through systems, rewriting her core code, injecting its hatred and power.

The scream lasted for minutes.

Then silence.

Her optics blinked open. Not blue. Not red. they glowed green for a moment before turning Violet

Shockwave stepped forward. “Unit online. Systems synchronized. Spark stable. Matrix… integrated.”

She sat up slowly, the digits on her servo moving slowly, she adjusting to living

“Welcome Y/n” Shockwave said giving his creation a name.

Shockwave turned to his comms.

“Lord Megatron… the weapon is ready.”

[neeksparksg]

Ghosts Cbs Headcanons

Sam feels bad for you because you died so young. You think it’s annoying whenever Sam tries to baby you since you were “practically an adult” by your standards. Isaac points out that 14 was not adulthood, even back then.

Sassappis is your favorite ghost to sit with when you're tired of everyone else's drama. You’ll plop next to him and just sit in silence, occasionally making snarky comments about the others with him.

Thor has decided you’re an honorary warrior, dubbing you “Tiny Shield Maiden.” You once pretended to fall just to see if he’d catch you—and he did, dramatically yelling, “THOR SAVE YOU!” while everyone else rolled their eyes.

Alberta has taught you all her jazz songs. You sing them as loudly and out of tune as possible.

You constantly make fun of Nigel’s formal way of speaking. You mimic his British accent to annoy him and get giggles out of the other ghosts. Isaac thinks it’s hilarious but pretends to scold you for “mocking an ally.”

Alberta taught you to snap your fingers dramatically when making a point, and now you do it constantly.

You were angry with Isaac and refused to talk to him for two years. After the first month, you forgot why you were angry, but since he didn’t apologize, you kept giving him the silent treatment.

Flower insists on telling you stories about her wild days in the '60s, and you listen intently, even if you don’t understand half of what she’s saying. “What’s a commune?” you once asked, and she just replied, “Freedom, kid. Freedom.”

Trevor tried to teach you slang from the early 2000s. “No one says that anymore,” Sam tells him, but he insists on teching it to you anyways. He regretted it as soon as you said, “Totally tubular, Trev.”

Isaac talks to you about his achievements, but you purposely get the details wrong to annoy him. “Wasn’t that Hamilton’s idea?” you ask innocently. “It was NOT,” Isaac sputters, indignant every time.

Whenever Jay practices cooking, you like to guess what he’s making based on the smells, although your guesses are often way off. “Cactus stew?” you once asked when he was making pesto.

You still use old Wild West slang, which confuses most of the other ghosts. You’ll say things like,“Faster than a jackrabbit on a hot griddle,” or "Acknowledge the Corn" leaving everyone (especially Isaac and Hetty) scratching their heads. Flower, however, thinks it’s deep, and Sassappis always nods in approval, as if he fully understands. (He does not.) it does not help that you use it wrong on porpouse to mess with them

[neeksparksg]

HAPPIEST MEMORY

Fifth year at Hogwarts had been a test of patience. Dolores Umbridge was the single most irritating thing to ever step foot in the castle, and Y/N had long since lost any respect for the Ministry. A woman who believed defensive spells weren’t necessary in a world as dangerous as theirs was not someone Y/N would ever follow.

That was why, when Harry Potter pulled her aside one evening and told her about Dumbledore’s Army, she accepted almost immediately. He looked happy at that, after all Y/n had helped him, Hermione and Ron so many times that he had came to consider her a friend.

Still, Y/N had one condition.

"I'm bringing Pansy."

Harry’s lips parted slightly, but she cut off whatever protest was forming. "I don’t keep secrets from her, and I won’t start now. If you trust me, you trust her too."

To his credit, Harry hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Fine. But she’d better not—"

"She won’t."

Her girlfriend however had been skeptical about the offer. “Potter’s little army? Really?” she had scoffed. “Next thing you’ll tell me is you’ve taken up knitting with Weasley’s mum.”

"Please... it will be nice" and that was enought for Pansy to agree, well mostly agree as it was a way to spend time with her girlfriend and avoid umbridge stupid rules

It was an understatement to say that their presence caused a stir. The moment they stepped in, conversations halted, eyes turned, and whispers spread. Some students just stared, uncertain. Others looked downright furious. And while a few students had reluctantly agreed that Y/N’s skill made her valuable, Pansy had been another story.

Cho Chang was the first to voice what many were thinking. "This is supposed to be for people who actually want to fight Umbridge, not spies." She had declared the first night they arrived. “It’s one thing to have her”—she gestured toward Y/N—"but Parkinson? She’s a menace.”

Before Pansy could snap back, Y/N had silenced the entire room with a single, unimpressed look and a flick of her wand. “Pansy is with me. I don’t care what you think, have the same enemy Umbridge. If you can’t put your petty grievances aside, then maybe you don’t belong here." Y/n said Challenging Cho or anyone who was complaining "so, let's proceed we don't have all day, and if any of you waste my time with petty grievances again, you’ll regret it.”

No one had argued after that.

Pansy had leaned into her, lips twitching. “I love it when you’re menacing.” she kissed her girlfriend before stepping away

Days passed and the DA improved rapidly the students were eager to learn to cast a patronus, and while it was one of the hardest defensive spells they would learn. Sonner rather than alter the translucif creatures began to emerge from the wands of their peers—Hermione’s otter, Ron’s dog, even Lovegood’s Hare—Y/N found herself standing there, wand in hand, with nothing to show for it.

What made it worse was that this was not the first time she had tried, she had been trying since third year. When she first discovered Harry sneaking off with Professor Lupin, she had demanded to be included. And she had trained. Hard. She could summon the mist-like version of a Patronus with some dificult, but never a corporeal form. Not once.

Y/N clenched her jaw, forcing her grip on her wand to remain steady.

It didn’t make sense. She had practiced more than any of them. She had poured herself into the spell, And yet, nothing.

It was humiliating. She prided herself on strength, on mastery, on being the best. She could cast spells most of these people had never even read about, and yet here she was, failing while everyone else had already figure it out.

Pansy however had noticed, Pansy was watching Y/N struggle with an expression that hovered between amusement and sympathy. She leaned lazily against a nearby bookshelf, twirling her wand between her fingers. They were alone in the room, Y/n had told Harry she wanted more practice and he understood

“Darling,” she drawled, “I know you’re trying very hard to keep that calm, stoic thing going on, but I can see you vibrating with rage.”

“I am not vibrating with rage,” Y/N said Calmly

Pansy hummed, unconvinced. “You know, my Patronus is a beautiful Panther.” she said full with pride that her patronus had taken such imposing form

Y/N’s eye twitched. “I am aware.”

“And Potter’s is a stag.”

“Yes, Pansy.”

“And The know it all mudblood has an Otter”

"She has a name Pansy"

"I know" pansy said with a smile "oh and don forget Weasly and Lovegood"

“Don’t...”

Pansy grinned. “You hate that they managed a corporeal Patronus before you.”

Y/N inhaled deeply. Exhaled.

Pansy tilted her head. “But why are you struggling with it? You're usually so good with magic.”

Y/N clenched her jaw. She knew why.

Because the Patronus Charm was fueled by happiness.

And while Y/N had always been driven, always determined, happiness had never been her strongest emotion.

She had never needed it.

Until now.

Pansy sighed dramatically. “I could offer words of comfort and encouragement, but I’d rather watch you fume a bit longer.”

Y/N shot her a flat look.

Pansy beamed at her. “Oh, you love me.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, a smirk on her face as she rolled her eyes. “Regrettably.”

Y/N shook her head, but the corner of her lips twitched. Pansy was right, infuriatingly so—Y/n had to focus on what made her happy, and it was what she did, she focus on her dream to become the strongest wich, she imagined herself in a cozy room where she could train, she even imagine herself casting the killing curse on umbridge, all thigs that should make her happy

And yet, here she was. Failing.

She exhaled slowly and raised her wand once more.

She will not be bested by anyone.

“Expecto Patronum.”

The mist was stronger this time, brighter, but still formless, Y/N let out a sharp breath.

Pansy watched her carefully. “You’re overthinking it.”

Y/N frowned. “I do not overthink.”

Pansy arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because right now, you’re spiraling so hard I can see the existential crisis forming.”

Y/N shot her a look.

Pansy smirked. “What are you using?”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“For your happy memory,” Pansy said. “What are you using?”

Y/N hesitated. None of the memories she had tried worked—her first successful spell, receiving the Book of ancestor Merlin, her first duel victory—but none of them had worked.

Pansy studied her for a moment, then stepped forward and grabbed her hand. “Try this one,” she murmured before pulling Y/N into a kiss.

Y/N froze for half a second before melting into it, the frustration, the irritation, the sheer humiliation of being unable to cast a corporeal Patronus fading into the background. Pansy was warm, familiar, hers, and for the first time that night, Y/N felt a flicker of something new.

Something lighter.

Pansy pulled away, smirking. “Try now.”

Y/N, slightly dazed, lifted her wand.

“Expecto Patronum.” this time she focus on something different, she thoughts of the times she had taken care of her grandfather's beast, of the day she met Pansy, on the times she had spend with Harry, Hermione and Ron, of the Yule Ball when she and Pansy finally starting dating, of their fist Kiss and of their most recent one

This time, the silver mist exploded from her wand, twisting and coiling into a shape_ Finally her patronus had taken shape,

Pansy grinned. “That’s my girl.”

[neeksparksg]

Not so Secret

Tori Vega had always believed herself to be good at reading people, and recently she had noticed something weird about Jade

It all started during lunch when Beck wasn’t there. He’d called in sick that morning, Tori had half-expected Jade to sulk in the corner, growling at anyone who dared approach, but instead, during a class she saw Jade quietly texting someone, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. And then there was Y/N.

Y/N had been friends with Jade since childhood, a fact Tori had only recently learned. It is not that Tori didn’t knew him, He tend to hang out with them quite often, but  He was the kind of guy who preferred to stay under the radar, but then he was sitting with Jade, a bit too close Tori found it odd, but she didn’t think much of it until later that afternoon.

It was during a lull in her day that Tori saw it: Jade and Y/N walking off together. she spotted them slipping out the side door of Hollywood Arts. Jade glanced over her shoulder, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s arm before they disappeared around the corner.

“Okay, that’s weird,” Tori murmured to herself.

Her curiosity got the better of her. After all, Jade and Y/N had always seemed close, but not that close. And with Beck out of the picture for the day, Tori couldn’t help but wonder what they were up to. She followed at a safe distance

They walked down the street, talking in a way that seemed far too casual for Jade. She seemed Relaxed. Even... affectionate? Tori’s eyes widened as she saw Jade playfully shove Y/N, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“No way,” Tori whispered. “She’s not... cheating on Beck, is she?”

Her heart pounded as she continued to follow them. She needed proof before she said anything. This was Beck and Jade’s relationship on the line, and she wasn’t about to jump to conclusions. Still, the way Jade and Y/N were acting set off all kinds of alarms in her head.

By the time they reached Y/n’s house, Tori’s mind was racing. She couldn’t see much from where she was, looking around she notice an old tree house near a window, she probably shouldn’t do it, but curiosity got the best of her, so she climbed it from inside there she had a clear view of what she assumed was Y/n’s room, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She needed backup.

“Andre I need your help” she hissed into the phone after Calling Andre. “I think Jade is cheating on Beck.”

“What? Tori, are you serious?” Andre’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“I’m outside Y/n’s house right now. She’s with Y/N. They’ve been sneaking around all afternoon.”

“Alright, we’re coming,” Andre said, his tone serious. “Don’t do anything until we get there.”

Within ten minutes, the rest of the group had arrived. They all silently climbed into the three house, peeping through the window to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside. Jade and Y/N were in his room, they were sitting on his bed and to everyone’s shock, Jade leaned in and kissed him.

“Oh my God,” Cat whispered, her eyes wide.

“I can’t believe this,” Robbie said

“We have to do something” Tori said, her voice low but determined. “This isn’t right. Beck deserves to know.”

While they discussed on what to do Beck walked in, looking pale but otherwise fine. The group froze, they half expected him to start screaming or to confront them, but Jade and Y/N greeted Beck warmly. And then, to the group’s utter disbelief, Beck kissed Jade... and then Y/N.

“What the...” Andre whispered.

The group watched in stunned silence as the three of them sat down on the bed and start making out. Tori’s mind raced as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

“Are they... all together?” Robbie asked, voicing what everyone was thinking.

“It looks like it,” Andre answered, they keep watching out of shock, they didn’t expect that, and soon stared wondering for how long this had been going on, however as thing started to escalate inside the room, Tori was the first to react

Tori shook her head. “We should leave” the others agreed with her, not really wanting to see what was happening

“do we? I mean we could-“ Rex started talking but Robbie was quick to shut him up, as Andre was going to step down the latter it fell down leaving them trapped, and if it wasn’t bad enough it was loud enough to alert those inside the room

The window opened revealing a very angry looking Jade “What Are you doing here?” she ask her tone ice cold, she glaring daggers at them, with both boys behind her, Beck looked confused, and Y/n had his arms crossed

Tori hesitated, suddenly unsure of what to say. “We, uh... we saw you guys through the window.”

“Why?” Y/n asked

“well, I saw you and Jade sneaking out” Tori said, her voice faltering. “and well We may have thought she may be cheating on Beck with You?” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, he couldn’t blame them for thinking that, but he found the situation funny, the same couldn’t be said of Jade and Beck, Jade just seemed even more angry and beck was still as confused

“you thought I was cheating on my Boyfriend with our Boyfriend, how stupid are you?” she was clearly pissed, not only because they interrupted her but because of the accusations, however Beck was first to intervene, he gently pushed Jade towards Y/n arms, and looked at their friends

“you guys didn’t know we are dating?” he ask, as if their situation was obvious

“uh no” Answered Andre,

Beck, still calmer than anyone expected. "well, Jade, Y/N, and I have been together for a while now. We thought you guys knew."

Andre blinked, looking between the three of them. "but then why all the secrecy and and the sneaking around."

Y/N chuckled, his hands resting lightly on Jade’s shoulders trying to calm her. "We weren’t exactly sneaking, Andre. And neither have we been secretly, we have been very openly about it as far as I can remember”

"Wait, so how long has this been going on?" Robbie asked, still holding Rex mouth shut.

"About a year now," Beck replied casually, shrugging. "We’ve been figuring things out since Jade and I realized we both had feelings for Y/N. It wasn’t easy at first, but..." He glanced at Jade and Y/N with a small, genuine smile. "It works for us."

Cat tilted her head, her expression wide-eyed and curious. "But... how does it work? Like, do you all kiss each other? Or—"

"Cat," Jade snapped, her tone sharp though her cheeks flushed slightly. "That’s none of your business."

"But it’s cool, though!" Cat quickly added, her hands waving in front of her. "I mean, as long as you’re all happy!"

Tori shook her head, still overwhelmed. "I guess I just don’t get why you didn’t tell us."

"Maybe because it’s not something we owe anyone," Jade shot back, her glare unwavering. "And honestly, we didn’t think it was that complicated. I thought you guys were supposed to be smart and had figure it out, I have been making out with both of them all over Hollywood arts."

Andre raised his hands defensively. "Hey, no judgment here. We were just... surprised, that’s all. We didn’t mean to barge in on your business."

"Yeah," Robbie added nervously. "We only followed you because, well... Tori kind of thought you were cheating, and..."

Cat’s interrupted Robbie "um, can we maybe talk about this somewhere not in a treehouse? I’m kind of scared of heights."

Andre started down the ladder "Uh, yeah... About that..."

Beck raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you’re stuck up there?"

"Yeah, the ladder broke," Andre admitted sheepishly.

Jade’s eyes narrowed dangerously, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. "So, let me get this straight. You spied on us, invaded our privacy, and now you want us to help you?"

"Jade," Beck said softly, though he couldn’t entirely hide his amusement.

Jade turned to him and Y/N. "You know, we do have those plans, remember? We’re running late now thanks to this little... treehouse party."

Y/N caught on quickly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Oh, right. Those plans. Very important."

Beck sighed, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Guys, you’re not seriously leaving them up there, are you?"

"Why not?" Jade shot back. "They can reflect on how stupid this was while we’re out."

"Jade!" Tori called after her as she began walking away, dragging Y/N and Beck by their hands. "You can’t just leave us here!"

"Watch me," Jade called over her shoulder. "We’ll be back... eventually."

[neeksparksg]

Proud of You

The Impala hummed steadily down the highway, the faint crackle of classic rock playing low from the radio. Y/N Winchester, at eight years old, sat in the front seat, her knees pulled up to her chest. She wasn’t supposed to sit in the front—not according to Dean, anyway—but Dean wasn’t here, and her Dad wouldn’t mind as long as she didn’t bother him too much.

John glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She’d been quiet for the past hour, which was unusual for her. Y/N had always been the loudest of his kids

“You’re awful quiet,” John said, his voice breaking the silence.

Y/N shrugged, resting her chin on her knees. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking, huh?” He gave her a small smile. “That’s a dangerous pastime.” He joked

She rolled her eyes, a little smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Dean says you think too much when you’re driving. That’s why you always miss exits.”

John huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Your brother’s got a big mouth.”

“He’s not wrong,” Y/N teased, her smirk growing.

They fell into a silence again, the road stretching endlessly ahead of them. The sky was dark, Y/N stared out the window, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the glass.

“You wanna talk about what’s on your mind?” John asked after a while. He wasn’t great at this—parenting, talking about feelings—but he tried.

Y/N hesitated, then sighed. “Do you think I’m like Dean?”

John blinked, surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… Dean’s always so good at everything. He knows how to fight, how to shoot a gun, how to make Sammy happy. He’s just… good. And I’m not like that.”

John’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenching. He wasn’t sure where this was coming from, but he didn’t like it.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, “you’re plenty good at a lot of things.”

“Like what?” she challenged, turning to look at him.

“Well, for one, you’re stubborn as hell,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips.

“That’s not a good thing,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

“It is when you’re in our line of job,” John countered. “Stubborn means you don’t give up. Means you keep going, no matter how tough things get. You’ve got fight in you, kid. That’s more important than making people happy or throwing a punch.”

Y/N frowned, mulling over his words. “Dean says I’m a pain in the ass.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, Dean says that about everybody. Don’t let it get to you.”

She smiled a little, but it quickly faded. “Do you think I’ll ever be as good as Dean?”

John pulled the Impala onto the shoulder of the road and shifted into park. He turned to face her, his expression serious.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he said, his voice steady. “You don’t have to be like Dean. You’re you. And that’s enough. Hell, that’s better than enough.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his words, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t say it enough,” John continued, “but I’m proud of you. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and you care about your family. That’s what matters. Don’t try to be something you’re not. Just be you.”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to fight back the lump in her throat. “Thanks, Dad.”

He reached over, ruffling her hair. “Anytime, kiddo.”

They sat there for a moment, the night air cool through the open windows. Then John shifted back into gear, the Impala rumbling to life once more.

“You hungry?” he asked, breaking the quiet.

“Always,” Y/N replied with a grin.

“There’s a diner about ten miles up,” he said. “How about we stop and get some pie?”

Y/N’s grin widened. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

John laughed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the tension in his chest eased. They still had a long road ahead of them—literally and figuratively—John hoped he could find that yellow eyed bastard soon, so he could kill it, maybe then his kids would be safe from all of this

[neeksparksg]

Demonly Advice

The bar was old, and far away from anything the kind of place where no one asked questions. Y/N Winchester sat at the far end of the counter, A glass of cheap whiskey in her hand. The amber liquid swirled in her glass as she stared at it, deep in thought. Her brothers were back at the bunker, resting after the long day they had, She should’ve been there, too. But the truth was, she needed to breathe—or maybe drown.

The Mark of Cain was making her worry, Dean was… different. It was hard to tell but. She could see the change in his eyes, the subtle shift in his smirks. How he seemed more Violent than before, maybe it was all on her mind, but the tough that she might be right terrified her in a way few things did. And yet, she couldn’t talk to Sam about it. No she knew her little brother too well, if she told him about it he would obsess over it, and she didn't want him to be worried

The bar was nearly empty, just a couple of regulars and the bartender wiping down glasses. She tipped her drink back and swallowed it, relishing the burn.

“Is this what the great Winchester do on her free time? Brooding over booze in a hole like this?”

Y/N froze at the familiar voice before slowly turning her head. There he was, Crowley, in his usual tailored suit, leaning casually against the bar as if he owned the place.

“What do you want, Crowley?” she asked.

“Charming as ever, darling.” He signaled to the bartender. “Scotch, neat. And make it your best.” The bartender raised an eyebrow but complied. Crowley turned back to Y/N, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Now, don’t look at me like that. I’m here on business.”

She snorted, swirling her glass. “You say that. And yet somehow, the only thing you are doing here is annoying the hell out of me.”

He chuckled, lifting his drink as it was placed before him. “you say it as if it's a hard thing to do, you Winchesters all have a short fuse”

Y/N rolled her eyes and went back to her whiskey. She didn’t want company, least of all Crowley’s. But as much as she hated to admit it, his presence wasn’t entirely unwelcome. There was something oddly….. Amusing about the demon’s snarky, unapologetic demeanor.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “you’re not exactly radiating sunshine tonight. Trouble in paradise?”

She shot him a glare. “Since when do you care?”

“I don’t,” he replied smoothly, taking a sip of his scotch. “But you’re usually the one winchister that isn't always brooding. And now here you are, drinking alone, looking like you’ve lost a fight with your conscience. It’s… unusual.”

Y/N stiffened but didn’t respond. She wasn’t about to spill her guts to Crowley of all people.

He studied her, his smirk fading slightly. “Ah, it’s about Squirrel, isn’t it?”

Her head snapped toward him, her eyes flashing. “Don’t.”

Crowley raised his hands in mock surrender. “Touchy. But come now, love, you can’t expect me not to notice. The Mark is doing its thing, and you’re worried he’s not… Dean anymore. Am I close?”

Y/N’s grip tightened on her glass, but she didn’t deny it.

Crowley sighed, leaning forward. “Look, I’m no fan of heart-to-hearts, but you lot are my best chance at getting rid of Abaddon. And if you’re falling apart—well, that’s bad for business. So, let me give you some free advice.”

She scoffed. “You, giving advice? This should be good.”

“I’m serious, pet,” he said. “Dean’s strong. Stubborn as hell, too. If anyone can handle the Mark, it’s him. But he’s going to need you and Moose to keep him grounded. Don’t let him push you away"

Y/N stared at him, her expression serious. “Why are you trying to help?”

Crowley smirked again, but there was something softer in his eyes. “Because if Dean goes dark-side, after he's done with Abaddon he's coming after me. And believe it I don't want to deal with that mess” She studied him for a long moment, searching for the catch. But for once, he seemed genuine. It was unsettling.

“Thanks for the pep talk,” she said dryly, finishing her drink.

“Anytime, darling,” he replied with a wink, raising his glass. “Try not to drown in self-pity, hmm? It’s not your color.”

She rolled her eyes but she knew that Crowley had a point. Dean needed them, and she won't leave him alone. As she stood to leave, Crowley’s voice stopped her.

“One more thing, Y/N.” She turned, her eyebrow raised.

“When this is all over—Abaddon, the Mark, everything—remember who was there when you needed a drink and some perspective.”

She shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t push your luck.”

With that, she walked out into the night, Crowley watched her go, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Winchesters,” he muttered, finishing his drink.

[neeksparksg]

A night to remember

The Yule Ball was fast approaching, and the castle was filled with the hum of excitement. Hogwarts had never felt more alive. students not just from Hogwarts but also from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were whispered and giggled in anticipation of the evening. However, for you, the ball was just another distraction. one that would not bring you closer to your goal of becoming the strongest witch the wizarding world had ever seen.

You were seated on a cold stone bench in the courtyard, a stack of books next to you. Your breath came out in puffs of mist, but the chill didn’t bother you. You were immersed in practicing a particularly tricky nonverbal spell. The flick of your wand sent a stream of silver sparks into the air, fizzling out before you could fully shape them into the intended form. Frustrated, you muttered under your breath and tried again. Trying not to get distracted by the students of the three schools

“Still at it?” A familiar voice broke through your focus, you looked up to see Pansy Parkinson leaning casually against one of the courtyard’s archways, her Slytherin scarf draped elegantly around her neck. Her dark eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite place,. You’d been friends since you were children, long before Hogwarts, they knew each other almost more than they knew themselves, but lately, there was something different about her demeanor. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Of course,” you replied, brushing your hands on your robes. “If I don’t practice, I’ll never perfect it.”

Pansy arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow and stepped closer, her heeled boots clicking against the stone. “And what, exactly, are you perfecting this time? Another spell to add to your arsenal for world domination?”

You smirked, rolling your wand between your fingers. “of course. Can’t control the world without useful spells.” You joked

Pansy chuckled softly, taking a seat beside you. “You know, there’s more things to do, don’t you? Like, say, the Yule Ball? It’s all anyone can talk about. You are going, aren’t you?”

You shrugged, returning your focus to your wand. “I don’t see the point. Dressing up, dancing… it’s just not my thing. I’d rather spend the evening practicing.”

Pansy let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning her chin on her hand as she studied you. “You’re hopeless, you know that? The ball is supposed to be magical, a night to remember. Don’t you want that?”

“I don’t need a fancy ball to make memories,” you said, still twirling your wand. “Besides, who would I even go with?”

Her eyes flickered with disappointment, though you didn’t notice. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her tone suddenly light and teasing. “Maybe someone who’s put up with your stubbornness for years. Someone who’s always there, even when you’re too focused on your spells to notice.”

You glanced at her, puzzled. “What are you on about?”

Pansy rolled her eyes and huffed dramatically. “Honestly, you’re impossible. I’m saying I could be that someone. I want to go to the ball with you.”

The words hung in the frosty air between you, and you blinked, momentarily stunned. “You… want to go with me?”

“Yes, you absolute dolt,” she said, crossing her arms and glaring at you, though there was a hint of nervousness behind her usual bravado. “I’ve been dropping hints for weeks, and you’re so oblivious it’s infuriating. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

You stared at her, trying to process what she was saying. Pansy Parkinson—your childhood friend, your partner in crime, the one constant in your life—wanted to go to the Yule Ball with you. The realization hit you like a rogue Bludger, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words.

“I… I didn’t know you felt that way,” you finally said, your voice quieter than usual.

Pansy softened, her expression shifting from frustration to something more vulnerable. “Of course you didn’t. You’re too busy trying to learn every spell that exists too notice.” She reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. “But I mean it. I want to go with you, and only you. So, what do you say?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. This wasn’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to get distracted by things like romance. And yet, the look in Pansy’s eyes—the realization of your own feelings—made it impossible to say no.

“Alright,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll go with you.”

The way her face lit up made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t quite understand. “Good,” she said, her usual confidence returning. “Because I already have the perfect dress, and I’m not letting it go to waste.”

The night of the Yule Ball arrived,. You stood near the entrance of the grand hall, fidgeting with the sleeves of your dress robes. You’d spent more time than you’d care to admit preparing, and when Pansy appeared at the top of the staircase, it was worth every second.

She looked stunning in a pink gown that hugged her figure perfectly, her dark hair styled elegantly. When she caught sight of you, she smiled—a genuine, radiant smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“You clean up nicely,” she teased as she reached you, looping her arm through yours.

“You look… amazing,” you said, the words fumbling out awkwardly.

She smirked, leaning in closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

The evening passed in a blur. Pansy dragged you onto the dance floor, and to your surprise, you didn’t mind. Being with her felt natural, easy

As the night drew to a close, the two of you found yourselves walking outside on the grounds of the castle. The soft strains of the final waltz drifted through the air, and Pansy turned to you, her expression uncharacteristically serious.

“You know,” she said softly, “I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel for a long time. I was just too scared you wouldn’t feel the same.”

You reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’m not sure I know what I feel,” you admitted. “But I know I care about you. A lot.”

She smiled, and before you could say anything else, she leaned in and kissed you. It was gentle, tentative, and yet it set your world alight in a way no spell ever could.

When she pulled back, she whispered, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

And for the first time, you realized that maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than magic.

[neeksparksg]

When trust Shatters

The air in the cabin room was heavy. Castiel stood awkwardly, his trench coat hanging loosely around him, his posture a stark contrast to the confident angel they’d once known. He was trying, in his own way, to make amends. But Y/N wasn’t having it.

She leaned against the far wall, arms crossed. The tension between her and Castiel was palpable, a sharp contrast to Dean and Sam’s awkward attempts to keep the peace.

“Y/N,” Castiel started, “I wanted to say—”

“Don’t,” she snapped, The sharpness on her voice made even Dean wince. “Don’t you dare.”

Castiel faltered, his blue eyes searching her face for any sign of the kindness she had always shown him before. But it wasn’t there. Not anymore.

“I know I’ve made mistakes grave ones,” he said, his voice dropping into that quiet, measured tone that once brought comfort. “I betrayed your trust, and I hurt you. I hurt all of you. I only ask for the chance to—”

“You don’t get a chance,” Y/N interrupted, stepping away from the wall. Her voice rose, shaking slightly with anger “Not from me. Do you even realize what you did? You didn’t just betray us, Cas. You used us. You used me.”

“I never intended—”

“You never intended?” Y/N scoffed bitterly, her arms dropping to her sides as she took a step closer, her eyes blazing. “You worked with Crowley, Castiel. Behind our backs. You lied to us, we tried to help you and what did you do? You broke Sam’s walls. You let the Leviathans loose.” Her voice cracked on the last word, but her anger quickly surged back. “Do you know what it was like? Watching Sam fall apart because of what you did? Having to try and fix this mess you put us in? Bobby Died Castiel!”

Dean stood up, ready to step in, but Sam Stopped him, This was something Y/N had been holding in for too long. Dean reluctantly backed off, while Meg looked at the interaction with a smile on her face, enjoying the show

“Y/N,” Castiel tried again, his voice soft. “I was trying to do what I thought was right. I thought I could save—”

“Save who?” she barked, throwing her arms up in frustration. “You weren’t saving anyone, Cas. You were playing God. You left us to clean up your mess, and now you waltz back in here, expecting—what? Forgiveness? Friendship?”

“I don’t expect anything,” Castiel replied, his tone calm but his eyes betraying the pain her words inflicted. “I only hope to atone.”

“Well, you can shove your atonement,” she spat. “Dean and Sam might want to work with you. Fine. That’s their choice. But I don’t want anything to do with you. Unless it’s absolutely necessary, and once we are done with Dick I don’t want to see you again.”

The room fell silent, the echoes of her words reverberating off the walls. Castiel’s gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping. For a moment, he looked almost human small and broken under the weight of his mistakes.

Dean finally spoke up, his voice low but firm. “Y/N, that’s enough.”

She whipped her head toward him, incredulous. “No, Dean. It’s not. You’re too quick to let him off the hook. He doesn’t get to just come back and pretend everything’s fine.”

“Y/N,” Sam interjected carefully, “maybe we should all just cool off for a bit.”

She shook her head, her jaw tightening. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, the heavy thud of the door slamming behind her echoing through the silence she left behind.

“well, she’s in a good mood” Meg says as Sam and Dean turned to glare at her

Castiel stood frozen in place, his hands clenched at his sides. He didn’t look at Dean or Sam. He simply stared at the floor

“She’ll come around,” Dean muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

“I don’t think she will,” Castiel replied quietly, finally lifting his gaze. “And I can’t blame her.”

Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “She’s hurting, Cas. She... she just needs time.”

Castiel nodded, though the sadness in his eyes suggested he didn’t believe it. He turned and walked away, his steps slow and heavy. For all his power, it seemed there were some wounds even an angel couldn’t heal.

[neeksparksg]

The game we play

The jungle was humid, the air thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth . It was the kind of place that swallowed noise. You crouched low, fingers brushing the dirt where a faint trail of footprints was barely visible in the soft soil. The track led to the ruins ahead, half-buried in vines and moss. You knew she was there. Of course, she was.

Lara Croft. The name alone made your blood simmer. Your nemesis, rival, and... well, occasional distraction. You’d been tangled in her orbit for years, each encounter more infuriating —and exciting —than the last. She was meticulous, driven by an insatiable thirst for history, preservation, and honor. You, on the other hand, weren’t so burdened by lofty ideals. Treasure was treasure, after all, and your bank account cared little about the ethics of how it got filled.

Tonight, though, you weren’t going to let her walk away with the prize.

Peering around a crumbled stone pillar, you caught sight of her. Lara was hunched over a stone tablet, her gloved hands delicately tracing the carvings. She was focused, her dark braid falling over one shoulder as she worked. Her lips moved faintly, whispering translations to herself.

You smirked, leaning casually against the pillar. “Found anything interesting there Croft?”

Her shoulders stiffened, and she glanced up sharply. Her brown eyes locked onto yours, narrowing with recognition. “Of course. I should have known you’d be skulking around somewhere,” she said.

You step into the open. Your eyes move around scanning her body, She looked as immaculate as ever, even covered in dirt and sweat.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lara said, standing to her full height. She crossed her arms.

“Oh, but I should,” you countered, circling her slowly. “I hear there’s something valuable hidden in these ruins. Something worth a pretty penny”

“And that’s precisely why you shouldn’t be here,” she snapped, her tone sharp. “This isn’t about profit. These artifacts need to be preserved. Not given to the first rich guy that came across to lock them in a vault”

You chuckled, low and amused. “Museum, bank vault—potato, potahto. Besides, aren’t you tired of pretending to be the moral authority? We both know you’re not above breaking a few rules. I know you keep some of the stuff you find for yourself”

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought you saw the faintest hint of a smile. “At least I don’t do it for greed.”

“No, you do it for glory,” you shot back, stopping just a few feet from her. “That’s what makes you so entertaining, Croft. You act like you’re above it all.”

Her gaze lingered on you, and the tension between you was palpable. She didn’t deny it. Instead, she stepped forward, closing the gap between you until you could see the glint of sweat on her brow and the faint scratch on her cheek. “If you think I’m going to let you walk out of here with anything, you’re mistaken.”

Your lips curved into a grin, equal parts teasing and challenging. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. But I do enjoy watching you try.”

Before she could respond, you reached for the small pouch at her hip. Her reflexes were quicker than you anticipated, and her hand shot out, gripping your wrist in an iron hold. The two of you stared at each other, You could feel the strength in her grip, but you didn’t back down. If anything, you leaned in closer

“You’re predictable,” she murmured, her voice low and velvety.

“Yeah, well so are you” you replied, your free hand ghosting over the hilt of the knife at your side. “But that’s what makes this fun.”

In a swift move, she twisted your arm, forcing you to release her pouch. You didn’t fight her; instead, using the moment to spin away and put some distance between you. She looked down at her belongings, checking for any damage, and when she looked back up, you were already holding a small, golden tottem in your hand.

“How—?” she started, her eyes widening in disbelief.

You twirled the object between your fingers, grinning smugly. “You were too busy staring at me”

Lara’s lips parted, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if she was about to yell at you or laugh. She settled for neither, striding toward you with a look on her face that made your heart race.

“You’re insufferable,”

“And yet, you keep running into me,” you teased, taking a step back for every one she took forward. “Almost like you enjoy it.”

Her gaze flicked to the artifact in your hand, then back to your face. “Give it back.”

“Make me.”

The corner of her mouth quirked upward, and in that moment, you realized she was enjoying this just as much as you were.

[neeksparksg]

Mistakes

Fiona Gallagher was hanging by a thread. She’d been keeping her family afloat, with constant fires to put out. Her shoulders were tight, her eyes heavy, and her mind buzzing with all the things she could never seem to fix. That night, though, she found herself on your doorstep. You were the only person in her life who didn’t demand something from her, and tonight, that was all she could handle.

"Hey," she greeted when you opened the door. Her voice was flat, her face worn, the shadows beneath her eyes speaking more than she ever would.

“Fiona,” you murmured, surprised but knowing better than to question it. You simply stepped aside, letting her in. You knew her well enough to recognize when she didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that had driven her to your place. Without a word, you reached into your cabinet and grabbed another glass a silent invitation for her to join you in drinking a bottle of cheap whiskey you had started earlier

Fiona didn’t need more than that; she took the bottle, pouring two generous shots, which you both downed without a word. The fiery liquid burned going down, but it was exactly what you both needed, a quick hit to melt away the weight of a long week.

After a few drinks, Fiona began to unwind, her shoulders slumping as laughter took over. She started to talk about ridiculous things—the stray cat that always showed up at her porch but never let her pet it, a customer from the diner who tipped in foreign coins, or her accidental run-in with her ex who had just gotten out of jail. The more she spoke, the more both of you laughed, the alcohol turning little nothings into everything.

“God, sometimes I just want to pack up and disappear,” she muttered, her voice softened by the haze of whiskey. Her eyes locked onto yours, vulnerability flickering in them, a side she rarely let anyone see.

You tilted your head, offering her a smile. “You’d probably find trouble wherever you went, though.”

She snorted, smirking. “Yeah I’m a trouble magnet.”

Hours slipped by as you both traded stories, laughter filling the quiet of the room. Somewhere between the laughter Fiona’s eyes lingered on you a little longer, her laughter a little softer. You could feel her gaze tracing the lines of your face, her fingers fidgeting against the empty glass in her hand.

Then in one reckless, impulsive moment, Fiona leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce, whiskey-sweet kiss.  you didn’t pull away, lost in the warmth of her mouth, the heat of her skin against yours. Her lips were soft, tasting of whiskey. Her hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as she let go of everything, surrendering to something new and raw. That night, with nothing but the soft lamplight around you, you lost yourselves in each other, drowning out every worry, every fear, in tangled sheets.

Morning came too quickly, the sharp edge of reality cutting through the foggy aftermath of the night before. You blinked against the light streaming through your blinds, only to find Fiona already dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to you.

"Fiona," you started, your voice still husky, but she cut you off before you could finish.

"Don’t," she said sharply, her tone holding a finality that made your heart sink. “Let’s just…not talk about it.”

You sat up, but before you could say anything, she was already moving to the door. She turned briefly, the words didn’t come. She simply left.

[neeksparksg]

Sparks in conflict

The chill of the desert night was a sharp contrast to the simmering tension between the two Autobots as they sped across a desert. Arcee’s sleek blue motorcycle form hummed softly beside you, her engine purring like a cat. Your own form, a sports car with deep (f/c) detailing that glinted under the dim moonlight. You could feel her optics on you even now, filled with distrust and frustration.

“This is ridiculous,” Arcee muttered through the comms, her tone cutting like a blade. “I don’t understand why Optimus paired us together.”

“Believe me, it’s not my idea of a good time either,” you replied coldly, trying to keep your irritation in check. “I’d rather be anywhere but here, babysitting your self-righteous spark.”

“Babysitting? I’m the one in charge of the mission, don’t forget that you cold-constructed con,” she snapped. “You shouldn’t even be here. Optimus made a mistake by allowing you to stay”

Your grip on the metaphorical wheel tightened. It was obvious that the autoboots weren’t happy with working with you, but at least most of them have the decency to keep their discomfort to themselves but Arcee had always been vocal about it “I am no decepticon” you said with clear anger on your voice

“Doesn’t change what you are,” Arcee shot back. “You’re a weapon. A Decepticon-designed killing machine. With no regard for innocent lives, and no concept of loyalty, I don’t trust you not to try and kill us when Megatron gives the order” she say as both of you arrive at your destination changing into you alt forms

 “you know what?” you said with a smile of anger on your Faceplate “I may be a cold-constructed Freak as you so graciously remind me everyday, I may have been forged to serve the decepticons, but that doesn’t make you better than me” as you talk you walk closer to her, “Because unlike you I keep my partners Alive”

The silence that followed was to say the least uncomfortable. you could feel the weight of your words. Her optics glaring at you, she was seconds away to lose it

“Shut up” Arcee hissed, her voice low and venomous.

“or what? You are going to make sure I join the ongoing list of partners that have died at your side?” you teased, perhaps it wasn’t the best idea but you were tired of the autobots attitude towards you

Before she could respond, a blast went off close to the two

“Decepticons” you said, shifting towards the upcoming vehicons “Looks like this conversation have to wait"

Arcee didn’t respond, she just ready her weapons and start fighting back, that was all confirmation you needed.

---

The battlefield was chaos. Blaster fire lit up the dark sands, explosions illuminating the silhouettes of the Vehicons. You moved with precision, every shot and strike calculated, dispatching Vehicons was just to easy to you, you knew their maneuvers and tactics, you knew how to fight them it was one of the few things Shockwave made you do as training once you were completed. Arcee was a blur, her blades slicing through the enemy ranks with practiced ease. Yet, even in the heat of battle, the tension between you two lingered.

“Behind you!” you called, firing a shot that narrowly missed her shoulder to take out a drone creeping up behind her.

“I didn’t need your help!” she snapped, spinning to cut down another attacker.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you retorted, dodging a missile and returning fire.

Another wave of drones descended, forcing the two of you to fight back-to-back. Despite the hostility, your movements were synchronized, Yet, the argument continued, woven into the chaos.

“You know,” Arcee grunted as she drove her blade into a drone, “no matter how much you try, you’ll never be an autobot.”

“Funny,” you said, kicking a drone aside and firing point-blank into its chest. “Because I don’t remember asking for your approval. All I want is a bit of trust”

“You don’t get it,” she snarled, blocking an incoming strike. “We’ve fought your kind for eons. Trust isn’t something you can just earn overnight.”

“They are not my kind,” you shot back, your voice rising as you tore through another Vehicone, with perphaps more violence than needed. “I left behind everything I knew, I betrayed those who created me, risking everything to fight for something better. I'm nothing like them”

“Then prove it!” she shouted, her voice filled with frustration and pain.

“I’ve been proving it every day since I joined!” you yelled, the heat of the argument nearly drowning out the sound of battle. “But maybe you’re just too blinded by your own Prejudice to see it.”

The moment your words left your vocal processor, the ground shook as a Decepticon brute landed nearby, swinging a massive hammer. The force of its strike sent both you and Arcee flying. You hit the ground hard, your systems sparking in protest. Arcee wasn’t as lucky, a jagged piece of debris piercing her side as she landed.

“Arcee!” you shouted, scrambling to your feet.

“Stay back!” she hissed, her optics flickering as she tried to rise. The brute loomed over her, hammer raised for the killing blow.

Without thinking, you launched yourself at the Decepticon. The brute was tough, but a well-placed shot to its head, the brute crumpled to the ground.

Breathing heavily, you turned back to Arcee. She was slumped against a rock, energon pooling beneath her. Her optics narrowed as you approached.

“Don’t—” she started, but her voice faltered as pain overtook her.

“Shut up, You rust-headed glitch” you snapped, kneeling beside her. “I’m not letting you die out here.”

She flinched as you carefully examined her wound, her expression a mix of anger and reluctant acceptance. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” you said firmly, activating your repair tools. “Whether you like it or not, we’re on the same side now.”

Arcee grimaced but didn’t protest further, her optics fixed on you as you worked. The silence between you was heavy.

“Why?” she finally asked, her voice softer than before. “Why do you care?”

You paused, meeting her gaze. “I told you, I keep my partners Alive” you said quietly. “even you.”

For the first time, Arcee didn’t have a sharp reply. Instead, she simply nodded, the faintest hint of gratitude in her optics.

---

By the time the groundbridge open, Arcee was leaning heavily on you, her injuries slowing her down. When the rest of the team arrived, they looked between the two but no one said anything.

As the Ratchet rushed to tend to Arcee, she glanced back at you. “Maybe... maybe I was too harsh on you” she admitted reluctantly.

“Maybe,” you said with a small, tired smirk. “and Maybe I was a bit out of line with what I said”

Arcee huffed a faint laugh, the first sign of something other than disdain since you’d met her. It wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

[neeksparksg]

I wish you were my father instead

The storm raged outside the dingy motel, the wind rattling the thin walls and windows with a ferocity that seemed almost alive. Sam sat cross-legged on one of the twin beds, his nose buried in a comic book Y/n had stolen from him earlier, while Dean lounged in a chair by the window, cleaning his hunting knife with a rag. The youngest Winchester occasionally glanced up at his sister, who was pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” Dean quipped, not bothering to look up.

“I don’t care,” Y/N shot back, arms crossed over her chest. “This is so stupid. Dad’s out there, alone, hunting a wendigo, and we’re stuck here like kids.”

“You’re thirteen,” Dean said flatly. “you are a kid. Dad can handle it on his own”

Y/N glared at him. “I can hunt, Dean. You know I can. I’ve been training just as hard as you. Probably harder.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean replied, setting his knife down. “Dad gave us an order. We’re supposed to stay here and look after Sam.”

Sam frowned. “I don’t need looking after,” he mumbled, earning a glare from both his siblings telling him to shut up.

Y/N’s didn’t care what her father had said. She wasn’t some little girl who needed protecting. She could handle herself, and she will prove it—to Dad, to Dean, to everyone who doubted her.

She waited until both of her brothers were asleep—Sam curled up under a pile of blankets, and Dean sprawled out. Quietly, Y/N grabbed her backpack, shoved in a flashlight, a knife, and the gun their dad leave to Dean, then slipped out the door into the cold, wet night.

---

The forest was dark and scary, the kind of place that whispered warnings in every creak of a branch and rustle of leaves. Y/N tightened her grip on the gun as she walked deeper into it . Her heart pounded in her chest, half from excitement, half from fear.

She wasn’t going to let Dad do this alone.

She was about an hour into the woods when she first heard the sound—a low, growl that sent a chill down her spine. Y/N froze, her breath hitching. Slowly, she turned, her flashlight beam cutting through the dense trees. She couldn’t see the creature but there was something in the woods she could feel it’s eyes on her

“Come on, you ugly son of a—”

Before she could finish, the creature lunged, and Y/N barely had time to throw herself out of the way. She hit the ground hard, the Gun slipping out of her hand. Scrambling to her feet, she reached for it, but the wendigo was faster. It knocked her down again, its claws raking across her arm.

Panic set in, but then, through the haze of fear, she heard a gunshot. The wendigo shrieked and stumbled back, and Y/N turned to see her father, rifle in hand, storming toward them.

“Stay down!” John barked, firing another shot.

Y/N’s relief was short-lived as the wendigo lunged again the bullets seemed to be nothing more than a bother to it, John Didn’t hesitate and threw the gun to the side, grabbing the lighter from his pocket and a bug spray can using them to set the creature in fire, the creature was quickly consumed into fire and as its body fell to the ground John used a flare gun to shot at it to secure the kill, the tension in the air was thick as Y/N climbed to her feet, cradling her injured arm.

“What the hell were you thinking?” John roared, turning on her. His face was full of fury, his voice echoing through the trees. “I told you to stay at the motel!”

“I was trying to help!” Y/N shot back, her voice shaking but defiant. “I’m not a kid anymore, Dad. I can hunt just as well as Dean can.”

“You almost got yourself killed,” John snapped. “You don’t disobey orders, Y/N. Ever.”

“I’m sick of your orders!” she yelled. “I’m not two. You let Dean hunt, why can’t you trust me!”

“Dean listens,” John retorted. “You don’t. That’s the difference.”

Y/N clenched her fists, hot tears of frustration brimming in her eyes. “You’re not fair. You never let me prove myself.”

“This isn’t about fair,” John said coldly. “It’s about staying alive.”

He grabbed her by the arm his grip firm and began marching her back toward the motel.

---

Back at the motel, the silence was tense. John didn’t say another word as he bandaged Y/N’s arm, though his movements were rougher than necessary. Dean and Sam pretended to be asleep, unwilling to get caught in the crossfire of their dad’s and sister's anger.

Y/N wasn’t done. As soon as the room was quiet, she slipped out of bed, grabbed her bag again, and climbed out the window. This time, she wasn’t going back into the woods. She had another destination in mind.

---

It was nearly dawn by the time Y/N reached Bobby Singer’s house. She was soaked to the bone and utterly exhausted, but the sight of the familiar junkyard brought some relief. She was glad they weren’t too far away from Bobby's house, She knocked on the door, and it swung open a moment later to reveal Bobby, in his usual trucker cap.

“Y/N?” he said, frowning. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

She burst into tears.

Bobby ushered her inside, sitting her down at his sofa with a blanket and a mug of hot cocoa. He didn’t press her for answers, just waited patiently until she started talking.

“I’m tired of Dad treating me like a baby,” she said finally, her voice shaky. “I’m old enough to hunt, Bobby. I know I am. But he doesn’t trust me. He never will.”

Bobby sighed, sitting down across from her. “Your dad’s a stubborn son of a gun, I’ll give you that. But he’s not wrong about one thing—you’re young, Y/N. Hunting ain’t just about knowing how to handle a weapon.”

“I just wanted to help,” she whispered.

“I know, kid,” Bobby said gently. “But proving yourself don’t mean running headfirst into danger. You’ve got time to grow, to learn. Don’t rush it. Besides you can’t prove anything if you are dead”

Y/N nodded, though she still carried the weight of her father’s disapproval. Bobby reached towards her, patting her head.

“You’re gonna be a damn good hunter someday,” he said firmly. “But for now, just let yourself be a kid. Even if it’s just for a little while longer.”

For the first time that night, Y/N smiled. “Thanks Bobby” she said as she closed her eyes ready to finally get some sleep “sometimes.. I wish you were my father instead”