#and i need that revenge much more badly bc they hurt me so much worse

[starthirst]

Crueller than jealousy

An idea struck me where because of his low self-esteem, Geralt doesn’t get jealous. He just accepts that someone has decided what’s best for them and it’s not him. It never is. Even if it hurts, he puts aside his own aching heart and leaves that person in peace. So when Jaskier decides to try and make Geralt jealous and feel like a fool for casting him aside by having revenge sex, it backfires. Geralt doesn’t even fight to keep Jaskier even though he wants to so so badly, he wants to fight for him. But Jaskier has made his choice. And it’s not him.  (It gets worse when Geralt finds out he’s not Jaskier’s only witcher, which means he doesn’t have anything the bard wants that he can’t get from anyone else). Sample:

”Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier says, equal parts cheerful and pitying as he climbs off the lord, “I simply forgot you were coming,” Jaskier feels smug, and it’s a satisfying high, all for a moment, before he sees Geralt’s face crumple in a way he’s never seen it do before.

Geralt knows what he did was completely unfair and wrong about an hour after he’s done it, when the anger has evaporated off of him enough that he comes to his senses and realises that he has just left his bard up a dangerous mountain.

He searches and searches, so desperate to find him before a monster did that he ends up searching all night, just in case Jaskier is hurt somewhere in a crevasse with his leg broken, his voice too weak from dehydration to call out for help. When he finally makes it back down to Roach, he finds she’s been fed, that the rest of Jaskier’s things that were in Roach’s saddlebags are gone, and he smells the lingering scent of Jaskier’s cologne, so he takes comfort in the fact that the bard made it down the mountain at the very least. It’s hard to stay on the path at first, when all he wants to do is search out his friend, make things good between them again. It’s especially hard when he catches himself glancing over the fire light, or when he hears the start to Toss a Coin but he gets by. Geralt reminds himself that he is a witcher. Witchers didn’t have special people to go home to and he figures out that’s what he wanted of Jaskier after too many dreams where they’re laid together, tangled up in their sheets, naked, warm and safe. No, he doesn’t deserve the chance to redeem himself in the bard’s affections, especially not after what he said on the mountain. While he was away from Geralt- their on and off adventuring together, Jaskier encountered one or two witchers and ended up charming them into bed for companionship, meaning nothing by it. After the mountain Jaskier makes a point of bedding witchers to convince himself that Geralt isn’t special and there’s plenty of witchers worthy of ballads out there, even if he hasn’t been able to write anything but maudlin love songs for the past couple of months. Jaskier ends up taking a residency at a high end tavern on behalf of the lord he’s currently bedding. The man is kind and dotes on Jaskier, giving him a nice room upstairs where he can work on his songs and poems in peace. He doesn’t even mind when Jaskier has guests over, so long as they don’t linger. One night after passionate relations, Jaskier’s eyes flutter open and his heart seizes with fear. There’s a monster standing over them, with fangs sharp and eyes wild. He wants to call for help, but the man who owns the name on the tip of his tongue left him- didn’t want him. He lays there, thinking he’s going to die but his fingertips brush against the dagger- silver, pressed into his hand by Geralt one summer’s evening years ago after he was almost carried off by a harpy, hiding under his pillow. Jaskier slashes it across the bruxa’s face. She screeches and flees out the window. The lord orders his men to find a witcher to exterminate the threat before her blood his dry on the dagger.  Geralt has been dragged from across two towns by some lord that wants him to kill a vampire. He’s finished the job and he’s been paid, so he’s about to move on when he runs into Jaskier gazing longingly at a kalimba in the marketplace. He’s so focused on trying to weave through the crowd without causing too much commotion that he doesn’t even see Jaskier, who is so distracted by his love of mastering new exotic instruments he doesn’t even notice until he turns and steps face first into Geralt. They stand in close proximity, stunned by the other’s sudden reappearance. Geralt apologises immediately, before Jaskier can get over his stupor and peel off one of his clever, biting quips. He looks so sincere and sorry Jaskier leans up and whispers in Geralt’s ear, telling him ‘You can make it up to me later,’ and invites him to his room after dinner time to talk. Geralt agrees eagerly, and Jaskier leaves the marketplace, his heartbeat all over the place replaying the ‘I’m sorry I was cruel to you. i shouldn’t’ve have spoken to you like that. I miss you, and I know what I want now,’ in his head like a melody he was trying to assign lyrics to. When he gets back to the tavern, he’s disappointed in himself for not being angrier. He had told himself plenty of times that when he encountered Geralt again he wouldn’t fall into his kind, forgiving ways. He couldn’t let Geralt get off with just a few ‘I’m sorry’s and brooding looks. He has some dignity and sense of self value. Geralt has to suffer a consequence, just a bit so he thinks twice before yelling at Jaskier again and discarding him like a used rag. Though he can’t think of what he should do, he’s too excited thinking about what Geralt meant by I know what I want now. The lord comes over to tell him the bruxa is dead and he need not fear her wrath. The lord begins feeling him up when Jaskier decides, in his pettiness, that instead of explaining he has a guest coming and taking the lord’s hand out of his pants, to let Geralt catch him like this. To prove to him that he didn’t need him, that he could easily find a comfortable place to live out his days. Maybe then Geralt would pull his act together and never treat him like mange on a dog’s arse again. Meanwhile, Geralt has been rehearsing his apology in his head for the past couple of months. The one he spewed out at the marketplace was weak, and not enough. Not enough for the man that followed him for the better part of twenty years, looking at him as though he hung the stars in the sky, the man he sorely missed, the one he injured so gravely. Destiny has given him a chance to make it good again and he’s going to grab it with both hands. He bought the instrument Jaskier was so fascinated with, which he was nervously turning around in his grasp. A present to ease the conversation, but not one large enough that Jaskier might think he’s trying to buy his forgiveness. As he ascends the stairs, he can’t help feeling lucky that Jaskier wanted anything to do with him anymore. Knowing Jaskier, it’ll be hard to earn his trust again, but he’s willing to apologise every day from now until his death if it meant Jaskier didn’t hate him.

Jaskier doesn’t answer the door when he knocks and because Geralt travelled with him for years he’s savvy to Jaskier’s inability to lock a door so he turns the handle and steps inside. Geralt’s is frozen as he helplessly takes in the sight of Jaskier on top of another man and very clearly enjoying himself. Jaskier turns his head at the intrusion and huffs, faux annoyed. ”Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier says, equal parts cheerful and pitying as he climbs off the lord, “I simply forgot you were coming,” Jaskier feels smug, and it’s a satisfying high, all for a moment, before he sees Geralt’s face crumple in a way he’s never seen it do before. He’s not angry, or disgusted. Jaskier can’t even figure what he’d call the expression before Geralt is gone from the doorway without even a ‘hmm’. He’s out of the tavern before Jaskier can get his pants on to go after him. When he goes downstairs the next morning to take care of his few affairs before he leaves town, the tavern owner hands him a package, brown paper tied together with a yellow string. He unwraps it, guilty. He already knows who it’s from. It’s the kalimba he was looking at in the marketplace, only someone has taken a knife to the wood and delicately whittled a delineation of dandelions and buttercups onto it. Geralt kicks himself as he rides Roach hard away from the town. Of course Jaskier had someone else in his bed. Of course he didn’t want a freak like Geralt, with no fortune, no lands or titles, not even a home to shelter him during the winter, and no assurance he wouldn’t die the next job, leaving him alone. Of course Jaskier would choose a lord that would keep him comfortable and sated for the rest of his days. Geralt was the fool to believe Jaskier would want him.  It’s getting colder by the day and Jaskier can’t find Geralt anywhere, let alone hear heads or tails of him. On the road encounters Lambert again, having fucked him about a year ago for a week. That night at his camp site, Jaskier has too much fortified mead and tearfully explains the whole thing. Feeling pity for the bard and mirth at the idea of how much it would bother Geralt, Lambert decides to bring Jaskier to Kaer Morhen for the winter. Geralt isn’t there when they arrive and Jaskier is worried that Geralt, presumably still brooding, won’t even come to Kaer Morhen. The other witchers, handful of them, some familiar faces from overnight encounters, try to cheer him up. He plays some song and dines with the wolves. Vesemir is wise and kindly and offers Jaskier words of encouragement and assures him Geralt won’t hold a grudge. Finally after two days, Geralt leads Roach into the stables, shaking the snow from his hair. He smiles as he greets his mentor and his old friends. He goes upstairs to his old room, the one in the north wing that nobody wanted because the broken staircase was awfully hard to climb when you were drunk. Gods, Geralt couldn’t wait to get drunk and forget his problems just for one night. He comes down stairs and he thinks he’s dreaming when he sees Jaskier in a over jacket, pouring the surrounding witchers some mead. But he’s as real as the wind howling outside and Geralt hears his heart begin to race when their eyes meet.   ”Thought you’d be tucked away in one of your lord’s winter manors,” Jaskier mistakes the jab for banter and tries to follow it up, tries to pretend it’s the same as it used to be. ”No song there,” he says casually, “A winter in a Witcher’s keep sounds so much more interesting. Interesting bunch, you lot,” ”Why are you really here?” That’s his opportunity to ask to talk in private, to explain everything, to make things right but Lambert speaks first. ”The bard is our guest. He already familiar with Eskel, Aubry, and Nasir.” Lambert says and there’s a undertone that’s mean and snide, Jaskier doesn’t appreciate the way he says familiar. “Hell, I brought him here. Thought he could entertain us for the winter.” ”Familiar?” Geralt repeats, looking at the mentioned names. Then a look of understand blossoms over his face and his entire being turns sour. Geralt’s jaw clenches. He takes his plate and sits all the way down the table away from Jaskier and Lambert. Geralt says nothing else, through his aura is menacing, finishes his meal in dead silence, all the while feeling humiliated he stupidly let himself believe he was anything remarkable, unique, to Jaskier. When Lambert opens his mouth to try and incite some kind of response from the white wolf, Vesemir fixes him with a stern, dark look and his mouth clamps shut. They finish eating and clean up in the tense atmosphere. Some wolves stay downstairs to drink, and the younger ones are already howling as Jaskier goes up to Geralt door. Geralt refuses to open his door and it not until Jaskier finally manages to corner him in a broken stairwell in the dead of night, where there’s no room to dodge by him, does he get an opportunity to speak to him. ”Geralt, Geralt, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” he tries, but Geralt won’t listen. He lifts Jaskier up by the waist and switches their positions. His hands around his waist makes Jaskier warm from the inside out. He tries to storm off but Jaskier clings to him desperately. Geralt brushes him off and continues down the hall. ”Please Geralt, please talk to me. I’m sorry I offended you during our last meeting, please can’t we talk?” ”Well done.” Geralt says, not turning around to face Jaskier. “You’ve hurt me in a measure proportionate to how I hurt you. Call it even and leave me be. Castle is plenty big enough that you and I won’t have to see each other over the winter.” ”Please Geralt, I know what I did was mean, but I love you.” Jaskier says, tears in his eyes, “I do, Geralt, I really do. I want to talk to you again. I miss you.” The rest of Geralt’s heart goes black and shrinks down to the size of a crab apple. The time where hearing that would’ve changed his life is long past, now it tastes bitter in his mouth. Geralt laughs in his face. They’re all same, his mother, Yennefer, Jaskier, they said loved him before they hurt him, like applying ice to the skin before a hot poker. And he was the heartless one when he pushed them away before they could hurt him.  ”I’m to believe there was something between us when at any opportunity you found another witcher to bed, some of them my brothers, to wring tales from so you could twist them into ballads? I don’t care that you did, we owe each other nothing. But you cannot honestly say what we had was special. I was never special to you.” ”You are,” Jaskier’s voice is croaky, his heart in his feet. How’d this all go wrong so quickly? ”I came to Kaer Morhen to find you,” Geralt sneers, ”Oh, pardon me, I thought you were here as Lambert’s guest.” ”Geralt, that’s not fair!” Jaskier cries out, “I didn’t know who he was when we slept together. And we were just friends,”  He’d take ‘just friends’ over this contempt, this terrible disdain. Then Geralt says something to him that hurts worst than what he said on the mountain. ”I mightn’t have been your only witcher, but you were my only bard.” And he goes to his room and closes the door firmly on Jaskier. Geralt leaves Kaer Morhen in the morning, the snow ankle deep and the frost setting in. Vesemir is worried that Geralt will have a hard time getting down the valley in the cold. Jaskier just feels like he lost a game without knowing the stakes.

#geraskier #angst #geralt x jaskier #ah fuck i made myself cry #geraskier fic #revenge sex and low self esteem are a bad mix

[blookmallow]

I FINALLY GOT SKYRIM MARRIED

i have a BEAUTIFUL WIFE

...who i went through a lot of shit for. this is. a lot of exposition, bear with me :’) im very invested in my character’s personal story here

so astrid had a very important special job for me and sent me to markarth to speak with the client directly

it turned out to be the apothecary’s assistant, who i was passingly familiar with already, so i imagine it was a bit of a surprise to both of us, but she got right to the point - a man broke her heart and ruined her life, used her to hurt the people close to her, abandoned her to go become a bandit, now she wants him dead

u can probably imagine where this is going,

this is the first time ive had a dark brotherhood job i was legitimately PSYCHED to carry out, you BET ill go fuck this guy up for you id do this for free

however, she also had... another request, one that wasn’t required, but something she really, really wanted

see she was very close with/practically another daughter to the shatter-shields in windhelm, the wealthy family who recently lost a daughter to the windhelm butcher

alain had manipulated her and used her to get to the shatter-shields, i dont remember if he stole from them or what happened there, but whatever it was, the shatter-shields blamed muiri for this and disowned her, throwing her out onto the streets with nothing

so she was used and had her heart broken by a man she loved, then was told it was Her Fault, and lost her home and her friends/the closest thing to family she had all at once, and was so hurt and desperate she turned to the dark brotherhood to get revenge on them all

she wanted me to kill nilsine too, the shatter-shields’ other daughter

SO we have this really complicated situation where, on the one hand, she wants alain dead for using her and ruining her life and hurting her friends, and like, he’s a bandit leader now, so he’s someone i probably would’ve easily killed off anyway, by “this is a video game not real life”/skyrim standards that’s a no brainer, i have no moral conflict with that and can’t wait to slash this guy’s head off

but on the other hand she’s so broken she wants a woman who used to be her best friend/practically her sister dead too. i dont know what nilsine’s role in this was specifically but these people were essentially her family, and they victim blamed her when she needed their support the most and threw her out with nothing and nowhere to go

and i had already done quests with the shatter-shields before this, so like, i know them too, and they’re sort of friends to me, i helped solve the mystery of their other daughter’s murder and now I’m being asked to kill the other. not to mention everyone’s going to think the butcher’s back/there’s a copycat killer/something and it’s gonna cause a panic again (even if the game doesn’t acknowledge that/directly show that happening, y’know) 

killing someone’s daughter when they’re still in mourning over the first, when they’ve come to trust you, when you’re the one who helped them gain closure over that first death already, is just. a stone cold thing to do

especially looking at it from my character’s perspective, she’d be especially torn on this because she’s a mother herself, but her children are girls she rescued from the streets - lucia was thrown away by her family, sofie was a victim of tragedy and was let down by the people in authority who should have protected and helped her

so medea would relate to tova as a mother and a friend but also relate powerfully with muiri as a victim in this

ultimately i don’t think there’s any real justification to kill nilsine here, i dont think you can really morally defend that, but. i was so drawn to muiri and wanted so badly to give her a shot at a better life and help her heal from all this, and knew she would become a marriage option if i did it bc id seen her name on the marriage options list before, her story fits in so well with medea’s, and like, i dont imagine im gonna have a lot of options for wives who would Know about my connection to the dark brotherhood/the things ive done and be okay with it, so if i went with her, there wouldn’t be a “keeping this horrible secret from my wife” aspect to deal with even though the game probably doesn’t acknowledge it if you do (i mean im still. keeping it from my kids, but. y’know. when they’re older)

and “talk this out with her and help her see how badly her mind’s been warped by the pain she’s been through” isn’t an option given to you, so

in the end i went through with it. killing alain was easy, just like any other bandit camp raid, but to get at nilsine without being caught, i had to sneak into their house when the family was asleep

which i expected would involve a lot of careful sneaking and laborious lock picking

until i realized i could just walk right in

because the door was already unlocked for me. because they consider me a friend and allow me into their home

and that somehow made it so much worse

i killed nilsine with an arrow, nobody heard a thing, and i ran for it before anyone saw me in there or realized what had happened

muiri gave me a special ring as a “symbol of her affection” for doing this, which i think is about the biggest sign i coulda hoped for lmao

i held off on considering marriage for the time though and finally decided i had to go back to windhelm to see if there was anything i could do to make amends to the shatter-shields even though they shouldn’t know it was me/make sure i didnt get seen by a guard without realizing it or something (though it wouldn’t probably matter anyway, guards saw me leave the orphanage immediately after grelod’s death and shrugged that off, so,)

my name’s still clear in windhelm, but...

tova committed suicide after she discovered what happened

she couldn’t cope with losing another daughter

so now the father is the only one left, coping with. the death of his entire family occurring within like a couple months

i didnt see what happened here i came back later so i dont know if this is something you can possibly stop or if its possible to witness the moment they find nilsine or tova’s suicide or if this just Inevitably happens whenever you come back

i feel terrible about this but theres. not really any going back now,

so. i went back to muiri

i dont know if this is what everyone says or not but her response was just. “i mean, yeah, why wouldn’t I be” i love her lmao

i wouldnt choose to get married in riften if it was up to me but thats how it be in skyrim i guess

my babies are here!!!! what!!!!

and a. random guy i dont recognize lmao :’)

just wandered in to see what was going on i guess. or maybe we’re friends and i forgot who he is entirely which would be kind of sad :’ )

maybe it was my long lost father... slipped out before i ever had the chance to realize it

however i actually. ended up doing this scene twice because, fun fact, there’s a glitch where if you don’t manage to catch up to your spouse to talk about where to live before they leave the chapel they can just fucking Disappear sometimes, :’  ) i couldnt find her anywhere after the wedding and finally looked it up and apparently she just fell into the void so i had to reload and run it again. we’re double married now

planned better this time and dressed better but anyway that elf guy didn’t appear this time but some other guy did, who i ALSO cant quite identify, he looks. maybe. kind of like lucas valerian? who is actually a friend to me and was one of the first friends i made so it’d decently make sense for him to come to my wedding, but weird if he came and camilla didn’t, and im not even sure thats him anyway, so i dont know what happened here all around

muiri’s mentor lady came too though which was sweet

im spinning this kind of as... like, medea was so drawn to her and felt so strongly for her she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint her and this was an eye opener for them both as a kind of. “look what kind of people we’ve let ourselves become” and their marriage as a new beginning, love coming from a place of desperation and darkness, starting over and hoping that the divines will forgive what they’ve done

medea’s not leaving the brotherhood but i mmmmmight try to be a little more careful about who i kill

i had intended for her to come live with me in markarth, she’s in on my. assassin life so having kind of this Other Side to my life made sense but... she met my kids at the wedding i guess and she wanted to live with them... which is really cute,

it feels really weird having this huge fancy house all to myself (and uh. argis, i guess) in markarth and having my wife and kids (and lydia, and a fox) all squished into the honestly kinda run-down whiterun house though i think im gonna work on getting the solitude house for them bc its. safer there than in markarth i feel like and ive heard thats like the fanciest/biggest house

there she is..... my Wife

she also sells things now but i feel bad accepting it when she gives me “my share” of the profit like.... babe thats your money i have so much adventuring money and i didnt do shit to help earn that,

i buy things from her sometimes but i refuse to sell her stuff bc i dont want to take any more of her money :’ )

even tho it. doesnt really matter, its video games, i know, but

found lucia, the fox, and muiri all on the bed at once

lydia was just standing like this for a rly long time after muiri moved in i guess she was suspicious but chilled out eventually :’)

gettin along finally

i just realized if we move to solitude lydia’s gonna get left behind though :(

i mean ill still come visit her but. upsetting

my one issue is that muiri still keeps saying “thank you for solving my-....problem.” every time i come in speaking distance of her which is. weird given that its the same line she had before we were married, like, she apparently doesnt get any new things to say, and is Really repetitive (imagine living in a small space with your partner and they say the same sentence with the same intonation every time you step within like 2 feet of them. how long til that gets old, do you think, ) and also its just like??? girl let that go we gotta stop dwelling on this or the kids are gonna start questioning what apparently massively important problem mommy solved

idk why she was laying on the floor but anyway my kids have started calling her “mama” now too and im not crying or anything

#lucy plays skyrim #this actually happened. a while ago but i forgot this post in my drafts bc i didnt want to deal with proofreading it lmao #Nobody Cares Except Me but my skyrim character's life is important business ok #i think im gonna marry sadri on my khajiit file eventually. he was like. my second choice/'If I Had To Pick A Dude' #and that way my dad will stop asking if my character's married anyone yet lmao i can be like o yea i married sadri #little does he know my main file is a woman with a wife and my male character's gonna have a husband. technically im not lying #hoping he wont ask to see how my house is coming along or anything lmao

[fxngsfxgarty]

though i am bruised

Inspired by a prompt from @alicethething

“You said something about swangs prompts? Bc idk bout you but I think there was plenty opportunity for some comfort after the ghoulfools dropped Fangs off a fucking stairwell :)”

Title from Cut My Lip by Twenty One Pilots.

Also available on AO3 here.

Fangs should be dead. He knows that much.

He would be dead, too, if not for his friends. For Jughead, who ran to catch him when Kurtz dropped him over the balcony, and for Sweet Pea, who was right at Jughead’s side. For the Serpents, the only ones he has left, the family he’ll have when Fogarty blood is spilled and drained and washed away, and he’s alone in the world again. No Serpent stands alone, no Serpent is left for dead. In unity, there is strength. All that’s left of all he knows lies with the two friends that remain.

Jughead is long gone now, picking up the pieces, chasing down assailants and probably exacting revenge on Fangs’ behalf. Sweet Pea, who bore the brunt of Fangs’ weight as he fell, is still here, though, lying still in the early evening light inside their tent - asleep, perhaps, or just keeping his eyes closed so Fangs can’t see he’s in pain. It could be either. Usually, Fangs would expect the latter, but these days, he’s not so sure of anything. But he needs to know, so he grits his teeth and rolls onto his side, wincing as his back kicks up another complaint, hot and sharp and stiffening by the minute. It could be worse, he reminds himself, it could be a broken neck, a damaged spine, paralysis. Even death.

“Pea.”

“Mm?” Sweet Pea opens his eyes almost immediately; he sounds sleepy, but not asleep, so Fangs doesn’t feel too bad about disturbing him.

“Jus’ wanted to make sure you weren’t dead,” Fangs admits. “We’re good.” But instead of falling onto his back again, he carries on turning. In the small space inside the tent, he’s almost immediately resting against Sweet Pea, head on his chest, nose buried in a crease in the faded flannel he’s wearing. It smells like motor oil, and the lingering smoke from their nightly campfires. Soothing, almost. Fangs remembers how that same smell had enveloped him when he hit the hallway floor, and how he’d been convinced that that was heaven, just eternity of Sweet Pea Sweet Pea Sweet Pea, like sleeping curled close to him forever. And then his brain had caught up with his body and his body fucking hurt and the little dream was over.

He still hurts. Not like getting shot, but a different kind of hurt, a full-body feeling of something-is-wrong even when he doesn’t move. When he does move, he’s hit with an unpleasant reminder that he probably shouldn’t, that seeing a doctor or going to urgent care might be a good idea, but they don’t have that kind of money and he’s pretty sure he couldn’t get on a bike or in a car right now. He doesn’t remember getting back from school, but he thinks maybe somebody carried him to a borrowed backseat, and there’s a vague memory of Jughead and Sweet Pea lowering him down to his bedroll, and Sweet Pea’s face blurring in and out of focus above him as he layered his shivering body in blankets.

He’s still shaky now, not cold, just freaking out a little bit over the fact that, y’know, he’s had yet another brush with death. His best friend must notice, because there’s a slight shift in the warm body beneath him, and then Sweet Pea’s arms are firmly around him, one over his waist and the other slipped under his neck for support. Soothing fingers are brushing through his hair, and he shuts his eyes tight, hoping that’ll be enough to keep the hot tears at bay. He briefly hears a weird choking noise, and wonders what it might be, but before he can ask, Sweet Pea is gently shushing him.

“Don’t cry, Fangs, c’mon,” he murmurs, and Fangs realises the noises are muffled sobs and they’re coming from him.

“I don’t wanna die, man,” he forces out, trying to get closer to his friend even though they’re already pressed up so close in a tent barely meant for two. “I’m not a damn cat, I don’t got nine lives and I already used up two. Maybe three if you count halves, like initiation night, and the Poisons in Pop’s parking lot.” He still has butterfly stitches across his brow and the lingering headache from the night the girls ambushed them. There’ll be scars, mental if not physical. It’s crazy how things build up and up and up until it all comes crashing down around his ears.

“You’re not gonna die while I’m around,” Sweet Pea sighs, his hold on Fangs tightening just a little. “We’re still sworn to protect each other. I’m not gonna give up on you… Someday, you’re gonna be okay.”

That only makes Fangs cry harder, and for a few minutes, neither of them says another word. Fangs grips Sweet Pea’s shirt until his knuckles turn white, like he’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. Sweet Pea rubs circles into Fangs’ back, his touch light and caring; he knows Fangs’ pain goes far beyond the physical one, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to forget about it. He comforts him until his shoulders stop shuddering at every choking, badly-hidden sob, until he can feel hot tears soaking through his shirt, until Fangs is quiet and breathing almost evenly.

“I’m with you,” he says softly, so quietly Fangs isn’t quite sure he’s not imagining it. “I have been since we met, and I will be til the end. It’s more than oaths and laws when it comes to me and you.” Fangs nods. He’d protect any Serpent with knives and fists and curses, but Sweet Pea is all of that and more. 

The taller boy just keeps on talking. “You’re gonna be okay. This hurt, it’ll pass like all the others. You always come out on top. You’re the strongest person I ever met. If bullets can’t stop you, neither can some greasy, junkie freak with a god complex.”

Fangs exhales, almost a laugh, complete with a shaky smile as he nuzzles Sweet Pea. “Shut up,” he murmurs. “I’m not all you talk me up to me.” “Sure you are.” Sweet Pea shrugs the shoulder Fangs isn’t leaning on, so he doesn’t jostle him too much. “You’re incredible. You’re something else.”

Fangs pauses before speaking his mind. “You’re kinda all I got… You’re my everything. Love you.”

Sweet Pea presses a kiss to his forehead. Again, it’s so soft Fangs fancies that he’s imagining it, but he knows he’ll remember it in the morning regardless.

Outside, the rapidly-darkening evening bursts into a soft orange glow - someone’s lit the campfire.

“You wanna go outside?” Sweet Pea asks quietly.

Fangs shakes his head. “Don’t want them right now. Just wanna stay with you.”

He gazes up at the thin blue fabric of their tent, imagines the night sky beyond and the stars coming out like the way the firelight reflects in Sweet Pea’s eyes. He doesn’t need a fire to keep warm when he gets to drift to sleep in his embrace.

#riverdale #riverdale fanfic #swangs #sweet pea #fangs fogarty #sweet pea x fangs #angst #hurt/comfort #cuddling #soft boys #fogarpea #is that a tag #it is now although i prefer swangs

[h-eckers]

The Day The World Ended

A/N: I literally cannot stress this enough, THIS IS THE WORST THING EVER!!! Not only is it badly written because it only took me like half hour, it’s also the single most depressing thing I’ve ever done. It was written as revenge for this fic by @thekillingquill (also I’m tagging @tasteofswallowedwords but only bc quill said i had to (I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you like this.))

Summary: P a i n.

Word Count: 1,610

Warnings: Death, pain, my tears, pretty obvious depression tbh. Oh god why did I write this, turn back now. 

“Hey kid, uh, it’s me again… Look it’s been a few weeks now and I haven’t heard from you. Everyone’s starting to worry. Just give me a call okay, we can talk.” It was uncommon to hear the famed Tony Stark so sincere, so solemn, but even as his voice drifted from the message bank of the phone beside him it was ignored.  

His voice had been falling on deaf ears for weeks on end, and he called every single day, never once had he got an answer. It wasn’t worth the money he spent on the call, and Peter would tell him that if he got out of bed to pick up the phone, or even found the words to say anything at all for the first time in over a month.

Nothing had changed about the wall at the back of his room, it was the same colour as it always had been, and yet he stared at it endlessly. The covers on his bed had started as a sanctuary for him, but as days stretched into weeks the blankets had started to weigh down on him like cement until it was crushing his chest and he couldn’t breathe anymore, now he couldn’t get up even if he wanted to, and he didn’t. 

He didn’t eat unless May forced it down his throat, and even then he could barely keep it down. He only showered when she physically dragged him from the confines of his bed and turned on the shower for him. Everything else was lost on him, he didn’t sleep until his eyes got so heavy that he couldn’t keep them open, and sleep was only tormented by the visions of what had happened.

He woke up screaming.

May didn’t apologise to the neighbours anymore.  

The world had ended on that day, and he couldn’t force himself to wander a world that had fallen apart because of his reckless touch. That’s what it was, it was his fault 

“Sir, I’m going to need you to step back!”  His ears were still ringing from the blast, but even muffled he could make it out and he shook his head.  

“No, no, you don’t understand!” His voice shook as he yelled over the piercing ring in his head, the suit he wore was forgotten as his eyes refuses to leave her form, weak and motionless on a stretcher, “She’s my girlfriend, that’s my girlfriend!”  

It took two of the medics to hold him back by his arms as he watched the others crowd around her, their words blurred together as they worked on her. He knew already, it wouldn’t work but his heart still ached with some lost hope that the blood would stop, and her eyes would open and she would smile again. 

Nothing had changed about the wall at the back of his room, except that it acted like a mirror now, reflecting the horror from his eyes back to him. The blankness of it acted as the perfect screen to play back the worst day of his existence. He could still hear her perfectly, her gentle voice, maybe it was because he’d loved her so deeply that it marked his soul indefinitely, but then again, maybe it wouldn’t leave his head because of the message she’d left on his phone that night.

The one he wouldn’t let May delete.  

The one that played every day before Tony’s new message.

The one that pushed him further and further into despair every time it played, just as scared, just as frantic as the day she’d left it.  

“Peter! Peter, I don’t know where you are but everyone else got out of the school! You disappeared and I can’t find you and I’m scared, please answer the phone, are you still in the school? … I’m going back in, I’m going to get you out okay? I’m coming to get you, I love you.” When she’d left that message the school was already in flames, during down slowly as Spider-Man pulled out the last students, his phone forgotten in his bag, having thought she was safe outside the building.

He only heard Tony’s messages because they played immediately after hers, and he listened to her voice every day. Just to hear her tell him she loved him one more time. It still hurt.  

“He hasn’t gotten up since the funeral.” He heard his Aunt’s voice from the kitchen, the silence in his room that followed his messages was so deafening he would have heard a hair hit the floor.  

“That was over a month and a half ago.” That was another voice he recognised, one that made him curl in on himself and burrow under the blankets, finally breaking eye contact with the wall. Not that it mattered. The back of his eyelids were sufficient enough to have the scene etched there permanently.  

“Tony, I don’t know what to do. He won’t eat, he won’t sleep, he hasn’t said a word since…” She trailed off with a sigh, sniffling softly, “I just want to help him. He listens to that message every single day.” He tuned out then, he couldn’t listen to her in pain. He’d had enough of the pain he couldn’t escape, he didn’t need more.

Maybe it was moments, maybe it was years before Tony opened the door to his bedroom, he couldn’t be sure and he didn’t care. The first thing Tony noticed was the spider suit, still charred and torn, flung over the back of a chair where it had been sitting since he lost her. The Second thing was the Peter sized lump that occupied the mattress, buried under blankets. The lump that didn’t move when he sat down and the bed shifted.  

“I don’t want to talk to you.” They were the first words he’d said in what sounded like a million years. His throat was dry and scratchy when he spoke, his whole body aching still. 

“Kid, I’m sorry.” He sighed, he didn’t know what to say or what to do, who would? 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered, pulling the blankets down just enough to start staring at the wall again. Tony didn’t answer, he didn’t have an answer. “Why didn’t you tell me that people would die, and why didn’t you tell me that it would be her, and why didn’t you help? You could have saved her.” he didn’t scream, there was no anger in his voice, only an anguish and emptiness that came from the deepest kind of loss.  

Again, Tony didn’t speak.

“It was horrible, there was so much blood and she was choking and she didn’t even know I was there. She died alone and in pain because you told me I wasn’t allowed to tell her my secret. The world knows who you are, and all I wanted was her.” his lip started to quiver then, he thought he was done crying after the first two weeks, but now, speaking again it seemed as though the tears may never have stopped. “It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” He reached out to rest his hand on the young boys shaking form. 

“Yes it is, I loved her, and she asked everyday where I disappeared to and every day I lied and every day she believed me. She trusted me, and she loved me, and I killed her. I could have just told her, but she’s dead.” He said it with a ferocity, a pointed venom that he spit at himself. Over and over he reminded himself that she was gone.  

“I just want to see her again, I just want to touch her skin or see her smile, I’d listen to her scream at me forever if it meant she was just here.” he shook slightly, cutting Tony off before he even had the chance to open his mouth, “I want you to go, and take that stupid suit with you, I don’t want it anymore.” He whispered.  

“Peter, I know it’s hard now but-”

“Tony. Get out.” He said weakly, reaching up to grip at his hair, tugging softly. The older man didn’t seem to have an option. His eyes were filled with unshed tears and his heart was heavy, somehow he’d lost two kids in one night. 

So he stood and he left, but he didn’t take the suit. He left it behind to be a reminder to Peter, hopefully in the future it wouldn’t bring him pain, he wouldn’t see her face reflected in the red and blue, but instead all the lives he had saved. 

When the door clicked shut, Peter broke again, for the thousandth time, sobs making him convulse as he buried his head in his pillow and screamed. Crying was always the worst, because when he sobbed, and all the tears blurred his vision, his mind drifted back to her. Not dying, not bleeding, not convulsing as she fought to get air into her draining lungs, but when he cried and the world shattered with every sob, he saw her face in his mind clear as if she was standing before him, smiling and laughing as the sweet words drifted from her lips like melody, “I love you, Peter.” And even that only made the ache worse.  

When he finally calmed, and his vision cleared, and her smiling face was replaced by that bloodstained memory, he looked back at the wall.  

Nothing had changed about the wall at the back of his room, except now it was part of a room that would never hold her again.

And so the world had ended.  

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman oneshot #peter parker x reader

[lxremipsumm]

even more bc this is fun i guess-

Lets play, “was I abused” game! bold the things your parents have done to you! Italicize if you’re not sure. (copy paste it all and then bold)

i wrote an aclaration between (brackets)

Physical abuse

parent slapped me to prove their point/teach me a lesson

parent spanked me as a “punishment” saying it was for my own good

parent pulled on my hair to force me to move

parent threw things at me while angry, things heavy enough to hurt me

parent trapped me into a room/corner so I couldn’t escape them

parent hit me when I wouldn’t obey them/tried to confront them

parent used a twig/stick/belt to lash at my body

parent grabbed me to force me to pay attention to them

parent pinned me down and physically prevented me from escaping

parent brought me into situations where I feared for my life

parent made it painfully obvious for me that I’ll obey them or suffer injuries

parent threatened to beat me if I wouldn’t do as they say

parent forcefully fed me something I refused to eat

parent made an attempt at strangling/drowning/burning me

parent banged my head/body into the wall/furniture

parent forced me into sexual activities

Emotional abuse

parent called me derogatory names and slurs more than once

parent said my name mostly with hatred and scorn in their voice

parent degraded and humiliated me in front of others for fun

parent insulted and devalued something really important to me

parent deprived me of something that meant the world to me

parent yelled and swore at me in anger more than once

parent blamed me for things that were out of my control/not my fault

parent shamed me for my physical appearance

parent guilt-tripped me for not pleasing them well enough

parent regarded me as a burden, and shamed me for needing them at all

parent insisted I couldn’t take a joke after I got hurt from their insults

parent never comforted me/got angry if I reached for comfort

parent punished me for crying/showing fear/showing trauma symptoms

parent humiliated me for showing excitement and happiness

parent subtly let me know that my feelings and my problems don’t matter (not only subtly. they told me they don’t matter)

parent got angry at me for feeling depressed/angry/tired/suicidal

parent blamed me for feeling depressed/angry/tired/suicidal

parent compared me to cousins/other children to prove how I’m the worst

parent decided for me how I feel when it was convenient for them

parent told me that I was crazy/delusional/need to be locked away

parent threatened me with kicking me out/sending away if I don’t change

parent refused to accept my sexuality/tried to force it to change

parent required for me to act normal to protect family’s reputation

parent isolated me from family activities they all enjoy

parent assured me that nobody will ever want me

parent insisted that I was lucky and that I could have had it much worse

parent made me responsible for their well being and made me the caretaker

parent insisted that their harmful acts were all made “out of love”

parent demanded me to be available for their requests at any time

parent punished me for trying to establish boundaries

parent destroyed my belongings as a revenge

parent made inappropriate sex jokes and comments in my presence

parent denied doing any of this and insists that all the blame is on me

Psychological Abuse

parent kept pointing out my flaws as proofs that I wont achieve anything

parent called me stupid, incompetent, ignorant, while withholding information that I needed to know in order to complete tasks

parent would change their side of the agreement in crucial moment and then pretend it was obvious from the start

parent stalked me/distrusted me without any reason/invaded my privacy

parent attacked my insecurities and vulnerabilities in any argument

parent forced me into degrading actions while they watched me do it

parent threatened to leave me

parent accused me regularly of behaving the way they did

parent never acknowledged, praised or approved of my actions

parent always demanded they are right without any proof/explanation

parent insisted that they’re a great parent using financial support as proof

parent insisted that I should be grateful for how good they are to me

parent gaslighted me and tried to make me believe my memories weren’t real if I confronted them with what they did

parent threatened to kill me

Neglect

parent didn’t notice I haven’t been eating properly

parent didn’t notice I was sick/didn’t care for me while I was sick

parent didn’t notice I was injured

parent didn’t notice I didn’t have clothes/shoes I needed for school

parent didn’t notice I suffered from trauma

parent didn’t notice I was anxious and stressed

parent didn’t notice I was depressed

parent didn’t notice I was cutting myself

parent didn’t notice I was suicidal

parent didn’t notice I was being sexually abused

parent didn’t notice I was being bullied

parent failed to get me medical attention when it was needed

parent failed to teach me the very basics of self care

parent didn’t seem to notice any of my needs and feelings except the absolute minimum I required to survive

when I notified them of these things, they denied it, accused me of lying, decided it wasn’t happening and/or blamed me for it

Financial Abuse

parent made me feel ashamed for needing money

parent made me feel like I’m a financial burden to them

parent only gave me minimal money to survive

parent made sure I never have a decent amount of money on me

parent took the money I earned from me

parent used the money to blackmail me (if you continue this way let’s see who will pay for your bus ticket!)

parent insisted since they “pay for my stuff” they have the right to control my behaviour and actions

parent had enough money for luxury but kept me without anything

parent refused to get my medicine/get me medical attention because it’s too expensive while they got everything for themselves

parent would keep me anxious over if they would pay my expenses or not

parent would make me do as much work for them as possible before they would pay for a necessity

parent kept me in the dark over family finances even when I was of age

parent would make sure I never have enough money to escape them

If you bold more than 5 things, you have been through abuse. For some particular ones, even one true thing on this list means you’ve been badly harmed by your parents. Also this list is not complete, there are many more abusive behaviours not listed here, feel free to add

#personal #mom&dad