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petertingle-yipyip · 4 years

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Selfish - Peter Parker

//Absolutely not requested. This idea came to me SO randomly but I really liked it so. first two anons are what i sent her, and the last one is what someone else sent her regarding my concept.//

//Tags: @stuckonspidey // Warnings: Language, violence //

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader; Spiderman x Villain!Reader)

Word Count: 9,935

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N never cared for her father, Tony Stark. After growing up without him in her life, she grew to despise him and the Avengers. She finds solace in causing chaos, including (but not limited to) constantly ruining a certain webbed-hero’s night. The thing is Y/N and Peter are dating, and neither of them know each other’s secret.

You never liked the sound of Y/N Stark. It felt fabricated, like a person you were never meant to be. If you had been raised by the billionaire, your life would be exceptionally different. You wouldn’t be enrolled at Midtown with your friends. You wouldn’t have met Peter the way you had, wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. You didn’t feel bad about not liking the sound of your father’s last name paired with yours. And from what you could tell, Tony Stark didn’t like the sound of it either.

Your mom was the one who made the decision to raise you away from Tony. She explained it to you when you were still in elementary school, when Iron Man first started gaining traction with the public. You had thought she was kidding. There was no way your absentee father was Iron Man. It seemed too convenient, but she even showed you your birth certificate. Sure enough, his name was on it where the father’s name usually goes.

So, you grew up knowing you were Tony Stark’s daughter. It always made you wonder how many other estranged Stark children were there. But you also knew Tony Stark didn’t care about you or your mother. He sent birthday cards, a credit card with the note “Go nuts. -TS” was included when you turned fifteen. Your mom said he paid a year’s rent for you at the beginning of every year. She swore your father was a good person, but all you saw was a joke.

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. But never known to the public as a father. He was everyone’s hero, everyone’s savior. Where would New York be without Iron Man? You always thought it’d be about the same. You grew up great without Tony Stark. New York would be fine.

You thought it was ironic that he could put himself on the line time after time to protect the world, a place full of people he’d never meet, from threats, but he couldn’t meet his own child. It made you feel unwanted, ignored, rejected, and forgotten. Spiteful even as you grew older and understood things for what they really were. You had even started to wonder if his secretary was sending the cards and he was just signing them. But that feeling, that gnawing bitterness that lived in your chest, it grew into actions. But being Stark’s kid had one upside. You were a genius.

You were able to develop multiple pieces of tech, ones that were just dangerous enough that you could make some trouble. You created a vocal manipulator, able to manipulate your voice across different frequencies and toy with people’s sense of hearing. You were able to create a neurotransmitter that you could embed in a knife’s handle so you could direct it once it left your hand. You were also able to use some of those deep Stark pockets to get professional level martial arts, knife-throwing, and singing classes.

You found a way to develop highly responsive shoe inserts, able to add 18 inches to your vertical jump and absorb most if not all of the sound of you walking. You were able to create a number of highly potent, easily absorbed solutions with a variety of functions. A paralyzing agent. A temporary bronchiole restrictor. Another that forces one to tell the truth. Five variations of sensory deprivation, one for each human sense. And your newest, a neurotoxin that activates pain receptors across the body. All of your concoctions were temporary, that much you made sure of. You didn’t want to kill anyone or cause any long term damage. More often than not, you just wanted to ruin their night.

Since your dad was a hero, you wondered if it was your path in life to be a hero as well. A local hero, like Spiderman. You had thought about it when you first started toying with chemicals, using your new solutions for good. Maybe even help people. But the thought of being in the same column as your father, being part of the superhero world, it made you sick to your stomach.

You were disgusted with the whole concept of heros. A group of people with martyr complexes who wanted glitz, glam, and glory in exchange for “risking their lives” to save the world. It was ridiculous. No sane person would stand against aliens, high tech monsters, and god knew what else because it was the “right thing to do”. You didn’t even believe Captain America really meant that.

So, you decided to be a troublemaker. Use your brain and your anger to wreak havoc. You never had any intent of keeping it up long term, more of a temporary deal to blow off steam when you were especially pent up. But that was before you met Spiderman.

“Little late to be out, isn’t it?” He said casually, leaning on the wall in front of you.

“Piss off, dude.” You smiled sweetly. Your mask hid your eyes, the reflective fabric showing only a gray screen. “Don’t you have an old lady to help across the street?”

“You know, you seem a little young to be out right now.” He countered. “Don’t kids have a curfew?”

“Coming from the boy who sounds like he hasn’t even hit puberty?” You laughed. Your hand subtly slid to the high collar of your suit, adjusting the sewn in meter to the deeper end of the vocal scale. “Mind your business.” Your voice came out deeper, more threatening and with an added bass that wasn’t auditorily picked up.

“Woah.” Spiderman said in amazement. “Your voice changed!”

“What?” You said after sliding the meter to normal, shock obvious in your voice. “You heard the difference?”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged, his voice cracking. “I kind of have, like, super senses.”

“Huh.” You nodded slowly, formulating a new plan. You carefully crossed your arms over your chest and activated one of your neuro-linked blades. “Are all of your senses heightened?”

“Yeah.” He began explaining. “Even my brain works different.”

“Your brain was changed?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda like- I don’t know. It's hard to explain.”

“Hmm.. Tell me, how does this feel?”

Before Spiderman could say another word, you sent a knife, soaked in your new pain serum, into his side. You smiled wickedly as he fell against the wall, obviously in pain all over but not knowing why. You called your blade back as you walked away, proud of the outcome.

You texted your boyfriend as you walked home. You figured he’d be asleep or working on his stupid Stark Industries internship so you didn’t expect an answer right away.

Peter’s phone went off as he was left leaning against the bricks for support. He felt like he had been slammed against a building, worse than when he left the airport in Germany. Whatever was on that blade had his entire body in pain, as if every place where he could feel pain, he did.

It didn’t wear off for what felt like hours. Peter couldn’t even focus to swing home. He had to walk the 12 blocks and clumsily climb the fire escape to get to his bedroom. Once there, he was able to slide out of the suit and lay curled in a ball on his own bed. He finally was able to check his phone, and a message from his girlfriend was there to make him smile.

pretty girl🤩💛: hey petey. heading to bed. that chem work had me physically in pain lmaoo. meet in the morning to go over it?

pretty girl🤩💛: i love youuuu. good night bby xx 🥰🤍💓

He managed to send his replies before giving in to the now dulling pain and falling asleep.

As you were tucking your own suit and weapons away, you received a text from Peter.

lover boy🥵❤️: okay same :( come over when youre ready and we’ll walk to school.

lover boy🥵❤️: i love you more

lover boy🥵❤️: 😘😘🖤🖤

The next morning he stood in front of his mirror, examining his side. There was no scar from the blade, only a deep purple bruise from the healing. Peter couldn’t stop thinking about the girl from last night. He was amazed that she could manipulate her voice the way that she did and he didn't even remember seeing her hand move to throw the knife. The biggest thing that stuck out to him was how familiar she seemed. He could almost swear that he knew her, that he knew her voice. He felt it in his bones, in his sixth sense.

You got ready quickly for school, greeting your mom on the way out of the apartment.

“There’s mail for you.” Your mom nodded to the two envelopes on your kitchen counter. When you stopped to examine them, she slid a plate of food towards you. “Since I know you didn’t eat much last night.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You smiled, picking up a pancake in one hand and an envelope in the other. “It’s a Stark Industries letter. Throw this one out.” You tossed it to the side.

“Sweetheart, maybe Tony is trying to be in your life.” She said softly. “You should give him a chance. I think you’d like him.”

“I don’t think I would.” You shook your head with a mouth full of pancake. “He can’t go around trying to save the world and then try to do things for us in the shadows. I’m not gonna be here as a piece to his redemption.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m sorry.” You said honestly, knowing you shouldn’t have cut her off. “If you still have love for him, that’s great. Hold on to that. But I just can’t feel love for someone who hasn’t interacted with me through more than a birthday card.”

“Just open the letter, please.” She said sweetly, pushing the Stark Industries letter towards you. “Maybe it’s not about Tony.”

You sighed gently, putting down your breakfast to open the letter. You dropped the torn envelope on the table and unfolded the paper. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N, we hope this letter finds you well.” You began reading out loud. You offered your mom a look that said you didn’t want to continue reading, that you didn’t feel like it would mean anything. She nodded eagerly, telling you to continue. “Everyone at Stark Industries is highly impressed with the grades that you received from Midtown School of Science and Technology. Mr. Tony Stark would like to personally offer you a summer opp-” You laughed and threw the letter in the trash, heading to your room for your backpack.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you get back here.” Your mother said firmly.

“Mom, that letter is a joke.” You replied, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “Tony wants to ‘personally offer me a summer opportunity’? That’s bullshit.”

“Don’t cuss at me.”

“Sorry!”

“Tony and I just thought-”

“You knew about this!?” You said loudly. “Why would you do that? You know how I feel about him and Stark Industries and the Avengers. It’s bad enough that Peter has that stupid Stark Industries internship. Why would I want one?”

“Will you at least talk to him?” She tried. You could see the sadness in her eyes, the pain from the broken family. She still loved Tony, that much was clear. And you knew it was valid for her to still love him. You just couldn’t forgive a man who didn’t want to be forgiven. But it was for your mother, the woman who raised you. The woman who left the man she loved so you could grow up normal. You knew it wasn’t fair to put her in the middle of your one-sided feud with your father, so you gave in.

“Yeah.” You sighed in defeat. “I guess I can have one conversation with the man. But I won’t go to him… If he wants to talk, he can come to us. And I won’t talk to him through a phone call.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m only doing this for you.” You added, holding your arms out for a hug. “I’m heading out a little early. Peter’s gonna go over the chem work from last night with me.”

“You finished it, right?” She asked as you headed towards the door.

“Yes, ma’am.” You nodded, offering a salute as your goodbye. “Love ya.”

“Are you coming home or going to Peter’s?” She called as the door was shutting behind you.

“I’ll call you and let you know.” You answered quickly before heading to Peter’s apartment.

You reached his apartment with about fifteen minutes left before you two would have to start heading to school. You knocked twice before May ushered you in. She gestured to Peter’s room, saying he was still getting dressed. You smiled, hugged her quickly, and headed into his room.

“Petey?” You knocked quickly before entering. “You decent?” You covered your eyes until the door was shut behind you.

“Y/N! Hi!” He said quickly. When you put your hand down, you saw him shirtless. You had only caught a glimpse of the deep purple bruise on his side but that was enough to draw your attention. He noticed your eyes on his tender injury but quickly tried to brush it off. “I went to help May with dinner last night and I fell into the edge of the counter.”

“You fell? In the kitchen?” You asked carefully, watching his face for his reaction.

“Yeah!” His voice cracked. “Yeah, I slipped in my socks.” He laughed nervously.

“Hmm.” You nodded slowly, not believing his story but not thinking of any other way he’d get a bruise that deep. Unless he took up a contact sport without telling you. “Want me to kiss it better?” You teased.

“Well, if you’re offering.” He smirked.

You skipped over to him and went up on your toes to kiss him quickly. When you pulled away, he pouted. “That’s it?” He whined.

“Aw. Does it still hurt, baby?” You joked.

“Mhmm.” He nodded, hitting you with his big puppy dog eyes and pursed bottom lip.

You chuckled lightly as he kissed you again, one of his hands finding your hair to hold you in place for a few moments longer.

“Anyways…” You smiled when you pulled away. “Can I see the chem work from last night?”

“It’s on the desk.” He nodded towards his cluttered workspace before rummaging through his closet for a shirt.

Everything else that day was normal. School went quick and you went to Peter’s afterwards. You two got food from Delmar’s on the way to his place. You struggled through your calculus work as Peter breezed through his. He talked you through some of the problems and you helped him with his English writing assignment. You two laughed and joked and teased each other until it was time for you to go home.

That night, you suited up and wandered the streets. You had no real intentions as you walked the familiar streets you grew up on. You simply wanted to be alone with your thoughts for the night. Sure, it was easy to lock yourself in your room and muddle in your messy thoughts, but you weren’t truly alone. Your mom would be home, checking on you or coming in to show you something funny she found on Facebook. So once she was asleep, you took off.

You wanted to do something big that night, something that could distract your mind until the next morning. You had ended up in front of Peter’s apartment building when you looked around to make up a plan. With no ideas, you climbed the fire escape until you reached the top of the building. You kicked your feet over the edge, flicking a knife into the distance and calling it back.

“This is an oddly specific spot for you to be.” Spiderman’s voice came from behind you. You dropped your hand, letting the knife fly past you towards the spandex-clad figure behind you. You stopped it about an inch in front of his face. You stood slowly, taking a deep breath to gather your composure before turning to face him.

“Are you stalking me?” You teased, walking slow circles around the bug-themed hero. “I’m a little creeped out, not gonna lie.”

“I- I wasn’t- I just-” Spiderman stammered.

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged, bringing your knife back to your hand. You tucked it away and looked back to Spiderman. “I’ve had a rough day and I’m gonna take it out on you.”

“What? Why-” He began, but before he could finish his sentence, your fist had connected with his jaw.

“Why?” You laughed, aiming another punch that he ducked. “Because all you heroes are the same. You think-” Another well-aimed punch. “-you can swoop in-” A swift kick to the ribs. “-uninvited-” He swung a fist back but you ducked under, twisting his arm over your shoulder and flipping him onto his back. “-and expect everyone to thank you.”

He jumped up quickly before speaking again. “What did I do to you?” He exclaimed, yelping as you aimed a kick for his head that he barely ducked.

Peter didn’t understand why he was taking so long to react. Usually his mind could process and guess where his opponent would strike before they made a move. But when he was fighting this new girl, he had no idea how to fight back. All he could do was defend. “I don’t even know you.”

“No, but I know you.” You laughed, pushing your gloved fingers through your hair. The sentence sent a wave of panic through Peter’s body, bracing for you to expose him but it never came.You hadn’t planned on any fighting, so you didn’t make a point to put it up before you left the house. You now regretted that choice, a thin layer of sweat making your baby hairs stick to your face. “You’re all the same. You think you’re doing your part to make the world better but all you do is abandon your family.”

“Abandon…” Spiderman repeated, his mind racing to put it all together. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged. “I’ll come face to face with him soon enough. For now, you need to worry about who’s hurting you.” You quickly flicked a knife at him, one dipped in a sensory deprivator. You were pretty sure it was the sight, but you couldn’t quite remember.

“What the-” He exclaimed, reaching his hands out in front of him. “How did- What did you do?”

“Sensory deprivation.” You said smoothly, walking to pull the knife out. “It was hard to perfect these ones without testing them on myself, if I’m being honest… It’d be too obvious to the people around me what I was up to.”

“I can’t- I can’t see! I can’t see.” He repeated, panic rising in his voice. You almost felt bad for him, like you had taken it too far. Something about the octave of his voice, the speech pattern, it felt familiar and that made the regret that much worse. Not only that, but it made you realize something. He was young, maybe as young as you were. “H- How- How long- How long is this gonna last?”

“About an hour.” You said slowly. You sighed gently, adjusting the pitch of your voice a bit higher. You knelt beside him, carefully putting your hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be alright.” You said with a slight tune to your voice.

You had picked up the singing lessons as a hobby, but you had quickly learned how easy a man would fall for a song. Using your tech and skills, you were like a modern day siren, manipulating men with a simple tune. Only when you used it on Spiderman, you didn’t use it to hurt him.

Peter was in a state of pure panic. He had never been without his sight before, and being on top of his apartment building, with an expert knife thrower that had a vendetta against heroes only made his nerves worse. He had no idea what her plans for him were. He wasn’t even completely sure of what she was capable of. Everytime he encountered her, she had something new to throw at him. As far as he could tell, she wanted him dead. She could throw him off the roof right now and he’d be as good as dead.

He was already on his knees, having collapsed from the knife landing in his thigh. He felt her hand on his shoulder and he flinched, raising his hands in a quick defense. But instead, a soft tune found his ears, a gentle promise that he’d be okay. He didn’t know why it made him feel a bit calmer, but it seemed to slow his mind. It reminded him that it was only temporary.

So, he gave in to the loss of sight. He gave in to the new nothing and allowed his sixth sense to take over. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to fight anymore, but he was ready for it.

“You’re young, aren’t you?” You asked when you saw some of the tension leave his body. “Everyone says you could be any age, but I don’t think you’re that much older than I am.”

“Now you care?” Spiderman scoffed.

“Wow, sorry.” You rolled your eyes.

“You literally just blinded me and I’m supposed to be nice to you?”

“Just forget I asked, damn.” You pushed yourself up and turned to face him. “It’d be so easy to end all of this right now. You’re blind, defenseless really. You’d never see my attacks coming… And maybe it’d make me feel better to take one hero out of this world.”

“Take your best shot.” Spiderman challenged.

You lifted an eyebrow, wondering if it had worn off already. But there was a slight falter in his movements, confirming that he was still blinded. So, you went for it. You threw punches and kicks, some connecting while some were dodged. He had landed a few good shots on you, one causing you to bite your own cheek. You spit the blood out, nodding in respect to him, before attacking again.

You used one blade, gripped tightly in reverse so your swings had a bit of an edge to them. You opted against any puncturing or any coated blades, deciding to hurt him by brute force this time around. He was able to block a decent amount of swipes, hitting your forearm with his. Spiderman was a tough opponent, eventually pinning you near the edge of the building.

“Go on then.” You breathed heavily. Spiderman had the hand with the blade pinned under one knee while he had his foot against your chest. He was careful not to put too much on his weight against you, but he made sure you couldn’t escape. “Throw me over and be done with it.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He exclaimed breathlessly in shock. “I’m not gonna throw you off a building!”

Despite the slices, throbbing bruises, and fuzzy vision, Peter still didn’t want to hurt whoever she was. She obviously wasn’t grown, had no real intent on hurting people. She was just… troubled.

“That’s where you and I-” You managed to get your knees between your bodies. “-are not the same.” You shoved roughly, flipping him over and off the building.

His scream echoed through the alley, until a harsh thud against the fire escape silenced it. You waited, catching your breath and steadying your racing heart and mind. You soon realized that you just threw Spiderman off the roof of an apartment complex… You rolled over quickly, sliding off the building and down a few of the fire escapes until you saw where he had landed, on his back but moving.

“I’m okay.” He groaned, trying to push himself up but failing. “I’m just gonna lay here for a while. Do you- Ah. Do you have a name?”

“Yeah, uh.” She said carefully as she got closer. “They call me Heretic.”

Peter laid on the cold metal in pain. Pain all over. His vision had returned thanks to his advanced healing, but was made blurry by the hit to his head. His spine ached, his lungs trying to refill after having everything knocked out of them. He watched as the girl’s figure slid down the side of the building via the fire escapes until she had past him. She was careful not to step on him, and he was grateful for that. Glancing over, he realized that he was outside his apartment so he rolled inside and laid on the floor.

“Heretic.” He repeated her name. “Cool.”

You made your way home quickly, practically running from your latest mistake. You had almost killed Spiderman. Throwing him off the roof was one thing. You knew he had the reflexes to save himself, but throwing him off while he was blinded was too dangerous. You had taken things too far, and that kid almost paid for it.

“Heretic, what the hell was I thinking?” You mumbled as you walked. “Fucking Heretic. I mean, it’s not terrible but giving yourself a name commits you to this character.” You nagged yourself. “Now, you have to keep this up. At least till Spiderman gets bored and leaves you alone.”

The next day, you woke for school and found yourself greeted with a black eye. You sighed, knowing you’d need to explain it to your mom and Peter. You covered it up as best you could but the deep purple leaked through your best cover up.

“What happened to your eye?” Peter asked when he saw you that morning.

He had noticed more than that. He just didn’t want to say anything about it, not yet at least. He noticed you looked tired, progressively getting worse as the week played out. He had started to wonder if you had been sleeping. Maybe you had too much on your plate and it was catching up to you. He was hoping it was nothing too bad, maybe a few nights of sleep and a date night could fix.

“I had softball practice last night” You began explaining the lie you thought of on your way to school. The team wasn’t a lie, Peter had been to plenty of your games. Only the practice last night would be the lie. “Well, I was pitching last night and Missa hit a liner right back at me. I barely got my glove up in time so it didn’t break my nose.”

“Nice black eye.” Flash mocked as he passed.

“You want one to match?” You threatened with a smile.

Peter took you by your hand, pulling you down the hall. He led you around the corner to a less crowded hall and looked at you in concern. You crossed your arms once his grip on you was gone, chewing the inside of your cheek. His eyes were soft, eyebrows furrowed. He scanned your face for some hint as to what was wrong, but he came up empty.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” He asked carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You snapped.

“Y/N.” He tried.

“Peter.” You replied in the same tone.

“I’m serious!” He urged, his hands tugging his backpack straps. “You usually ignore Flash or just flip him off. You look like you haven’t slept in days. What’s going on?”

“My dad.” You gave in, offering half of a truth. “He reached out the other day. Him and my mom got together and thought it’d be good for me to get to know him. He offered me a summer job.”

“Is that what has you freaked out?” He sighed in relief. “Jeez, Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cause I don’t wanna do it.” You shrugged. “I’m only doing it for my mom. She still loves the jerk.”

“You’ve never told me anything about your dad.” He tried, seeing if he could get you to talk through it. As you opened your mouth to speak, the bell rang.

“That’s our cue to go.” You gestured to the intercoms above you. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Promise you won’t dodge it?” Peter said accusingly, pointing a finger at you.

“I do not dodge.” You defended, but Peter’s stare convinced you otherwise. “Okay, maybe I dodge a little.”

“Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky. “Pinky promise me right now that you’re not gonna avoid this and we’re gonna talk about it?”

“Seriously?” You smiled.

“Yes, seriously.” He chuckled. “Pinky promises are sacred!”

“I pinky promise.” You hooked your pinky around his. “You know, if you don’t kiss to seal a pinky promise, it doesn’t count.”

“Really?” He furrowed his brows, releasing your pinky to tug you forward by your belt loops. “Never heard that one before.”

“Mhmm.” You nodded, wrapping your fingers around his backpack straps and gently pulling his lips to yours. “It’s a new thing that started like five seconds ago.” You smiled before placing your lips against his.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your lips.

“I love you too.” You replied gently when he pulled away.

“Parker! Y/L/N!” You heard Mr. Dell yelling from down the hall. “If you two don’t get to class right now, I swear you will be in detention for a month!”

You screamed softly, grabbing Peter’s hand and running off to class. The first half of your day was easy enough. Your classes were simply going over projects or introducing new topics. You took easy notes, trying to ignore Peter’s concerned stares. You noticed bruises along your knuckles as you wrote, feeling pain every time you gripped your pen. You hoped Peter didn’t see the flex of your hand, but you had a feeling he did. Peter seemed to notice everything.

During lunch, Peter pulled you to the bleachers by the football field. You resisted, telling him you didn’t want to talk about it at the time. He ignored you. Peter refused to allow you to avoid it, gripping your wrist tight enough so you couldn’t slip out but not tight enough to hurt you.

“Peter, will you stop?” You sighed, uselessly trying to tug your arm out his grip.

“No, cause you’re gonna bail!” He countered, leading you to the top of the bleachers. “Sit down.”

You glared at him as you crossed your arms defiantly.

“Please.” He said softly, his eyes pleading.

You sighed slightly, caving to his soft expression. You dropped into a seat beside him, dramatically dropping your hands into your lap. You tilted your head to look at him as you waited for his questions.

“What happened to your hands?” He started with.

“What about them?” You asked, lifting your now makeup covered hands. You used a bathroom break during the only class between morning and lunch you had without Peter to quickly cover the bruises.

“In Physics when you were taking notes, you kept making a noise when you held your pen. Like it hurt.” He pressed.

“I shut my finger in my window last night…” You said quietly, as if you were embarrassed.

Peter was growing more and more suspicious of your sudden injuries. He knew you had been playing softball for years and wore a facemask when you pitched. He knew you didn’t open your window at night because you didn’t like moths getting into your room. He was starting to wonder if something else was going on, something you couldn’t tell him.

“What about your dad?” He changed the subject, deciding he’d hang around your apartment later that night on patrol.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you who he was.” You laughed in annoyance. “Everybody knows my dad.”

“Your dad is a celebrity?” Peter teased with half a smile.

“Oh, ha ha.” You mocked with a smile. “I’m serious!”

“I know, I know.” He chuckled. “Okay. Who is he?”

“See, you know him.” You argued, trying to find a way to tell Peter without telling Peter. “I mean, I never made it obvious that you knew him but you do… You met him kinda recently…”

“The only celebrity I’ve met recently is Mr. Stark.” Peter answered in confusion. You cringed slightly, covering your eyes and shaking your head. “Mr. Stark is you d-”

“Shut up!” You hurried to cover his mouth. “Why do you think I never told anyone!? Tony never cared about me before so I don’t acknowledge that we’re family.”

“Y/N, that is awesome!” He geeked.

“No, it fucking sucks.” You countered. “Pete, my mom left him when I was born because she didn’t want to be part of what Stark Industries does. Did. And then he went and made the Iron Man suit and became a hero.” You rolled your eyes. “He was the biggest weapons supplier in the country and suddenly he’s the good guy? It’s bullshit.”

“Mr. Stark is a good guy.” Peter defended gently, a slight shrug in his shoulders.

“I’m glad you like him.” You said honestly. “My mom still likes him too… I just can’t. You know how I feel about that whole superhero stuff.”

“I mean..” Peter casually shrugged. “Not all superheros are bad… Y’know, like Spiderman.”

“Yeah, Spiderman.” You scoffed, remembering the reason behind your lingering black eye and bruised knuckles. “I’m sure he’s great.”

“You don’t like Spiderman either?” Peter asked sadly.

“It’s nothing personal!” You argued quickly. “I mean, he’s probably some random guy pushing his mid-20’s that thought he could make it big time with Captain America and Iron Man. But from someone who has seen it, Tony Stark doesn’t care about the little guy.” You covered.

“I- I wouldn’t say Mr. Stark doesn’t care.”

“I would.” You confirmed. “Peter, you and I obviously know two different Tony Starks. And that’s fine. You met one who actually wants to mentor and care about a kid. I’ve never even met the one I know so... I guess we’ll see how it goes when he comes to town in a few days.”

“Right…” Peter trailed off, turning his attention to his food.

Pete had always known how you felt about heroes. He knew you were never their biggest fan, but you never really explained why. Peter never pressed the issue because he figured that you would tell him when you wanted, and he didn’t want to risk exposing his alter ego. But knowing that you hated heroes because your dad was Iron Man only made things more complicated. He started to wonder if Mr. Stark knew he was dating you. He wondered if Mr. Stark was purposefully absent in your life. Peter felt like he was in the middle of a war, being urged to pick a side. Peter wanted to be Switzerland, to remain neutral.

Later that night, you left your apartment building in your costume. You wandered aimlessly, not knowing what you were even doing on the streets anymore. You felt like your alter ego was a chore now, something you had to keep up for Spiderman’s sake and less of your own. You blew out a defeated sigh, realizing another idealized figure in a mask had swallowed an aspect of your life.

With no other outlets, you turned and slammed your fist through the glass of a nearby bus stop. The remaining fragments showed an etched image of Spiderman. The shards dripped, the yellow glow of a nearby streetlight giving the blood an unnatural hue. You shook your hand, a stinging sensation shooting through.

“Son of a bitch.” You mumbled, knocking out the rest of the glass. You held your hand close to your chest, pressing hard with the other to slow the bleeding.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this.” A familiar voice came from above you. Looking up, you saw Spiderman perched on the roof of the bus stop. “Did you break that picture of me?”

“A well deserved breaking, I think.” You smiled tightly. Sliding your meter to a higher pitch, you softened your expression to mimic a plea. “Please Spiderman, I need help. My hand is bleeding and it- it hurts.” You feigned fear, sniffling to add effect.

Spiderman jumped off and landed softly in front of you. He cautiously held his hand out for you to take so he could examine the injury. Once he was close enough, you reached out to grab him by the forearm. You twisted his arm outward, driving your knee up into his ribs. When he doubled over, you slammed an elbow against his spine to lay him out.

Peter groaned slightly, rolling onto his back. All he wanted was to go to your apartment building and see what you were up to. He just wanted to check on his girlfriend, but no. Nothing was ever simple for Spiderman. He didn’t even know if Heretic had a goal when she started fights with him. He was starting to think she just wanted to annoy him.

“Y’know, Heretic.” Spiderman mumbled from the ground, causing you to freeze. “It’s not nice to trick people.”

With an eye roll, you reset your vocal meter and turned to face the spandex suited boy. “You think I care what you have to say?” You laughed. “I couldn’t care less what you think about me, Spiderman. Did you ever stop to think that people like me pop up because of people like you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Spiderman asked, carefully pushing himself up to a crouching position. You stood fully, gesturing to yourself as you spoke again.

“Everything I can do is because of tech I developed.” You explained. “My mask has a neurotransmitter that’s linked to my knives that are coated in different chemical compounds that trigger different bodily responses. My vocal range is due to a soundwave manipulator that can change my pitch. My shoes are completely sound-proof. Nothing about what I do is natural.”

“But what does that have to do with me?”

“Villains arise to challenge heros.” You clarified. “If this wasn’t a world of superheros, I wouldn’t be doing this. I’d be a different person.”

“What if you could still be a different person?” Spiderman offered, standing to be eye level with you.

You scoffed slightly, crossing your arms. “How? Pulling a Tony Stark and suddenly deciding I’m going to be the good guy? Suddenly realizing that what I do hurts people so I need to make amends? Oh, but I won’t make amends to the people I’ve hurt. No, I’ll hide behind a suit and be a vigilante. That’ll be my redemption, right?”

Peter stood there in shock, dumbfounded for a moment. He was starting to connect the dots, but he was hoping he was wrong. He was praying that he was wrong. Peter was starting to wonder if Y/N and Heretic were the same person. He realized how many things were lining up. Every night he fought Heretic, Y/N came to school with an injury. Every night that he talked to Heretic, she brought up superheros and how she hated the thought. But something about the Tony Stark speech, the deep rooted pain that was conveyed in her words, it was painfully familiar. But Peter knew better than to speak on it.

In a split second decision, Peter bailed.

“Gotta go!” He said quickly before swinging away.

You watched Spiderman leave in surprise. Spiderman never ran from fights between you two. It was seemingly out of character for him, but you shrugged it off. You didn’t care enough to follow him nor did you care enough to really think about it. You simply headed home, trying to figure out how you’d explain your busted knuckles to your mom and Peter.

What you didn’t see was where Spiderman went. Peter decided to test his theory, to do a little investigating of his own. He swung to the building across from yours. He could see the fire escape outside your window. He always knew which one was yours because you kept Christmas lights shaped like snowflakes around the bars. You had explained your reasoning for keeping them up to him one night, saying you kept them up so you would have cute lighting for night pictures and so you would have light when you two sat on the fire escape at night.

Peter waited for what felt like forever. He had almost given up his suspicions when he saw Heretic climbing the ladders. He was pleading for her to keep climbing, to keep going past your window and he could put the whole idea to bed.

His heart dropped when he saw you enter your window.

“She’s Heretic…” He said sadly, defeated almost. “I can’t tell her now… Maybe I can’t tell her at all.” He reasoned with himself as he headed home. “She hates Spiderman. She’ll hate me. What she finds out and breaks up with me? Oh my god.”

The next day was Saturday. You woke up to a throbbing pain in your hand. Looking over, you saw your knuckles swollen and red, covered in dried blood. Sighing in annoyance mixed with regret, you dipped a nearby shirt in a glass of water on your nightstand. You gently scrubbed some of the dried blood, wincing when you pressed too hard.

“Honey!” Your mom called from down the hall.

“Yeah, Ma?” You yelled in response, quickly dropping the shirt before her head popped in.

“Get ready.” She said simply. “Tony is coming today.”

“He’s actually coming?”

“Yes!” She said happily. “God, I haven’t seen him in years.” She sighed dreamily.

“Can Peter come over too?” You asked, leaning to the other end of your bed where your phone was charging.

“You want Peter to know?”

“He already knows.” You shrugged in defeat. “He pried it out of me at lunch yesterday.”

“If you’d be more comfortable, sure.” She smiled softly. “Now at least shower and put on real clothes.”

“Alright, alright.” You laughed, pushing yourself out of bed.

“What happened to your hand?”

“I was on the fire escape last night and one of the-” You tried to explain.

“Stop.” Your mom cut you off. “I don’t want you to keep lying to me, Y/N. Are you doing this to yourself?”

“What?” You asked in shock. “No! No, Mom. I’m not doing this to myself. I’ve just been distracted lately with this whole Tony thing that I haven’t been paying attention that much. The truth is I spilled some chemicals on my hand yesterday in Chemistry and I was embarrassed about it so I didn’t say anything…”

“Oh, honey.” She sighed, coming into your room to sit next to you on your bed. “I know this is a lot to process, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“I’m only doing this cause you asked me to. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you, by the way.”

“Thank me when it’s over.” You smiled slightly.

While you got ready, you messaged Peter that you wanted him to come over. He told you he had to do some paperwork for his Stark internship first and then he’d come over. Instead, Peter had called Mr. Stark who was stopping at Peter’s apartment before he made his way to your home.

“What do you need, Kid?” Tony asked Peter. “I have somewhere else to be today.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s place.” Peter filled in, keeping his eyes on his busy fingers.

“She told you?”

“Yeah…” Peter nodded carefully. “But there’s something else I need your advice on.”

“Spit it out then.” Tony said, waving his hand to coax Peter. “Her mom is gonna kill me if I’m late.”

“Well, you know how I’ve been fighting this new villain…”

“Heretic, yeah. What about her?”

“I know who she is… And the problem is that I know her.” Peter explained. He didn’t want to say Y/N’s name when he was talking to Mr. Stark because he didn’t know how Mr. Stark would react. After all, he still loved Y/N. That much didn’t change.

Peter was only bringing it up because he was scared. He knew from the start that telling Y/N he was Spiderman was going to be hard since she didn’t like heroes to begin with. But now that he knew she was Heretic, knew that she was doing what she was doing because of him, it scared him. He was scared of how his relationship with her would change. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. She meant so much to him, more than he could ever put into words, but now there was an even bigger elephant in the room.

“What do you mean, you know her?” Tony asked carefully.

“I go to school with her. I have classes with her. I hang out with her!” Peter’s voice began rising, panic lifting the octaves in his voice. “Me and her get along! But she hates superheroes. A- and she doesn’t know that I’m Spiderman. But if I told her now, what if she stops talking to me? She’s already thrown me off a building so if she knows, I don’t know what it’s gonna do to-”

“Back up.” Tony interjected. “She threw you off a building?”

“Yeah, but I was fine.” Peter shrugged it off. “The point is, Mr. Stark, I don’t know what to do.”

Tony paused, thinking about what he wanted to say next. He could tell that Peter was upset and scared. Tony was wondering how important could this girl be to him, especially if he’s already dating Y/N. Tony shrugged it off as being a childhood friend, but he still chose his next words carefully.

“You got two options.” Tony said, holding out both hands. He lifted his right slightly higher. “First option, call her out on it. It’d probably expose you since she interacts mostly with Spiderman.” He leveled his right and lifted his left. “Second option, you tell her who you are and see if she exposes herself. Either way, you have to tell her who you are.”

“What if she hates me for it?” Peter asked softly.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a lot of faith in her.” Tony questioned.

“I do!” Peter corrected quickly. “But… I can’t lose her, Mr. Stark.”

“Who is she to you anyway?” Tony pressed. “You break up with Y/N or something?”

“No, no, we’re still together. She’s just someone I’ve known for a long time.”

“You’re not cheating on my daughter, are you, Parker?”

“It’s so weird hearing you call her your daughter.” Peter laughed nervously. “But I’m not cheating on her. I would never.”

With a satisfied nod, Tony motioned for Peter to follow him. Together they went to your place. You sat in the living room with your mom. You had covered up the lingering black eye and bruises along your knuckles. You couldn’t do anything about the cuts so those were left in the open. You were dressed decently, a simple white t-shirt with a blue flannel and jeans. Your mom was a bit more dressed up, and while normally you’d tease her, you knew why she was doing that. So you let it be.

Peter entered first, knocking three quick taps before letting himself in. He placed himself next to you, saying he finished his internship stuff sooner than he thought so he headed over. You leaned against him, his arm wrapping around you. A few minutes later, someone else knocked on the door. Your mom jumped up, hurrying to open the door.

“I’m gonna throw up.” You muttered, rolling your eyes.

“You’ll be fine.” Peter chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “If it goes well, want to go get ice cream after?”

“What if you spend the night instead?” You countered, turning to look at him with a gentle pout. “Please, Pete. We can make sundaes and binge Star Wars.”

“Don’t give me that look.” He groaned, pushing your face away with a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

“Love you.” You said in triumph.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet your father.” Your mom said as she came back into the living room with Tony Stark following behind her.

Suddenly, you were at a loss for words.You never thought the man would actually show, but there he was in your living room. He was dressed nice, as expected. A sharp suit with slightly tinted glasses. He smiled softly, and it seemed to be real. All of the snarky comments you had planned to use were suddenly forgotten. You were just a lonely kid again, wondering why her dad was gone.

“Hmm.” You managed through closed lips, nodding in acknowledgment. You saw the look your mother flashed you, one reminding you that you had promised to try. Peter nudged you slightly, urging you to say something more. “Glad I got to actually meet you before I turned eighteen. Here I was thinking you forgot I existed.”

You had intended for it to come out sharp, to inflict damage to his ego if nothing else. But hearing your own voice, it felt strange. Your words had no edge, no venom. Only pain. Loneliness. But your resentment wouldn’t show in your voice, no matter how badly you wanted it to.

“Peter and your mom have told me a lot about you.” Tony opened with, sitting on the loveseat with your mom. “Did you get the letter I sent?”

“The Stark Industries letter?” You laughed. “Yeah, trashed it.”

“What letter?” Peter asked carefully. “Y/N…”

“It was a joke.” You said flatly, not looking at Peter.

“I offered her a summer job.” Tony explained. “With the opportunity for something more permanent if she wanted it after summer.”

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me?” Peter asked you.

“Can we talk about this later?” You urged quietly.

Peter nodded slightly, muttering a response before losing himself in his own thoughts. He knew you’d rant to him about how the conversation went anyways, so he wasn’t missing anything by zoning out. He was more concerned with how to explain that he knew you were Heretic. He didn’t want to lose you because he was Spiderman, but he couldn’t keep fighting you.

“You never called.” You said to Tony, trying to maintain the level in your voice. “You sent a birthday card and that was it…”

“I thought it’d be best if-”

“If you pretended I didn’t exist.” You cut in. “I get it.”

“It’s not like that, kid.” Tony sighed.

“Then what is it like? You ran the most successful weapons corporation in the country but stopped production because you saw the pain you were causing. So you changed Stark Industries to something that was better. You created your Iron Man suit to be a vigilante that protected the nation. Until your old coworker got ideas. Then it was the son of one of Grandpa’s old friends, one that helped create your Arc Reactor. Oh, and then the Mandarin, right? Fast forward a bit and now you’re running the Avengers. You can do all of this to try to make the world a better place but you can’t be a family man?” You pressed. Once you started speaking your mind, the words wouldn’t stop. The words flowed like water from a broken faucet, unable to be stopped. “How you gonna fix this? You can’t even fix yourself!”

“Y/N, honey, let’s calm down a bit.” Your mom tried to settle you.

Your hands were now trembling, your eyes were burning with tears that wanted to be released. You wanted to cry out of sadness, out of anger. You were finally getting the chance to take the weight off your chest, to stop blaming yourself for why Tony was never in your life. You were able to get the answers you wanted since you were a child. But something about that chance was scarier than when you took up your alter ego.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” You shook your head. “But I can’t. It’s not fair for him to put the world as a priority when he can’t even put his family in the top ten. You still love him even though you know he doesn’t care about us. He cares about you, if that.”

“What do you want me to say?” Tony tried calmly. “You want me to ask to move in with me at the Tower? Cause you’re both more than welcome to. Your boy Peter is there all the time for internship stuff. You can still go to Midtown.”

“You think trying to be in my life now is going to fix what you did?” You laughed as you shook your head. “Tony, I don’t want your money! I don’t want you to suddenly pretend like you want to be a father to me. What I want is the truth.”

“You want the truth?” Tony pressed.

“Yes.”

“Because it’s what your mom wanted!” Tony answered quickly. “When she left, she asked for me to keep my lifestyle away from you guys… She just wanted you to have a normal childhood, Y/N.”

“What?” You asked carefully, turning your attention to your mom. “You asked him to stay out of my life?”

“I didn’t want you to be in danger.” She said softly, sadly almost. “I know I made a mistake, but I’m trying to fix it. Why do you think I reached out after all these years?”

“Don’t try to make it sound like you did this for me, Mom.” You stood suddenly. “I’m not responsible for your self-made obstacles.”

With that final line, you went to your room and shut the door. You couldn’t control your tears anymore, covering your face with your hands to muffle your sobs. Your heart felt heavy, shattered deep in your chest. The pain felt like you couldn’t breathe. You grew up hating your father, superheroes, and everything they stood for. You created an alter ego to let out that hatred, to focus all of your pain on one source. On Spiderman. But now, now it all felt misplaced.

A light tap at your door sounded before it opened. You were on your floor, arms crossed over your bed under your head. Your chest was rising and falling heavily, your breaths shallow and broken. The bed dipped with the weight of a body and a different hand landed on your back.

Peaking up, you saw Tony sitting on the edge of your bed. Glancing to the side, you saw Peter on the floor next to you. You sat up with a sigh, wiping your face with your blanket. You laughed nervously, casually using your foot to kick your duffle full of Heretic gear deeper under your bed.

“I guess I owe you an apology, Tony.” You said, your voice raspy and sad. “I guess I just needed someone to blame...”

“You didn’t know.” Tony reassured you. “You were right to be angry, Y/N. I should’ve done more, even if your mom asked me not to. See, I was always worried that I was going to end up like my old man so I used that as an excuse to stay away. But! I was wrong. My offer still stands for you to come stay at the Tower.”

“I can’t leave my mom.” You shook your head. “She’s all I’ve ever had… Other than Peter.”

“Y/N, I- I kinda have to tell you something.” Peter said carefully.

“This is the girl!?” Tony cut in suddenly. “Now might not be the best time.” Tony said with a quick shake of his head.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, since people are being honest, I um- I have a secret… A pretty big secret.” Peter continued.

“Peter.” Tony said. “Don’t do it.”

“Wait, Dad. Hold on.” You waved Tony off, focusing on Peter. “What kind of secret?”

“Aw, you called him Dad.” Peter smiled before focusing back on his reveal. “Okay, so you know my internship? Well, it’s not qui-”

“Quite an internship anymore.” Tony cut in, throwing his hands to the side in a grand reveal. “Congrats, kid. You’re officially part of the team.”

“Wait, what?” Peter questioned. “No, that’s not-”

“That’s really great, Peter.” You hugged him tightly. “Although, I wish you didn’t make it sound so bad. I thought you were going to say you had a secret life or something.”

“Yeah… Sorry.” Peter chuckled nervously. “Guess I could’ve worded it better, huh?”

“I’m happy for you, baby.” You smiled as you pulled away, kissing his cheek quickly. You stood, turning your attention to Tony. “As for you, we can’t change the past… And I get that you were just doing what my mom asked, but there’s a lot of built up resentment towards you and superheroes.”

“Well, you have a superhero family whenever you want it.” Tony offered you his hand to shake. “Go on. Shake my hand.”

“Why?”

“Shake it first.”

“No, tell me first. I’m not going to agree to something without knowing the facts.”

“Fair enough.” Tony nodded. “We agree to spend time with each other once a week, alternating in who picks the activities. You’re my daughter, Y/N. And contrary to what you may think of me, I do want you in my life.”

“I can agree to that.” You smiled slightly, shaking his hand.

“And we tell each other something new everytime we meet up.” Tony added. “I’ll go first. I know you use the credit card I gave you for knife-throwing lessons, martial arts, throwing knives, and a lot of biochemicals. Now you go.”

“What?”

You were dumbstruck. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that all of your purchases were on the bill that was sent to Tony. You felt like an idiot, not even thinking about whether or not Tony would read the bill. Let alone that he would call you out on it in front of Peter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried.

“Yes, you do.” Peter sighed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about… We know that you’re Heretic.”

“How do you know about Heretic?” You turned on Peter, eyes squinting in suspicion.

“The black eye. The busted and bruised knuckles. The fact that you come to school more and more tired every day. Y/N, I know something is up. The other night I saw Heretic climbing through your window and-”

“Your apartment is five blocks away, Peter.” You cut in. “There’s no way you could’ve seen anything from your apartment. Were you spying on me?”

“No, I-”

“Did you have someone else spy on me?”

“No, I just-”

“Then how did you see anything?”

“Because he’s Spiderman.” Tony said plainly. “Sorry, Peter, but you weren’t getting anywhere.”

“You’re…” You spoke carefully, processing the sentence. “You both need to leave. Now.”

“Y/N, baby, please don’t do this.” Peter tried.

“Leave!”

In silence, both of the boys walked out of your room and out of your apartment. You locked your door, ignoring your mother’s knocks and conversation attempts. You laid in bed until the next morning, simply staring at the ceiling. Your mind was racing, looping back to the conversation in your bedroom. You wanted to scream, to cry, to curse the universe. But all you could do was stare numbly at your popcorned ceiling. You felt empty, like you had truly lost everything. You had nothing. You were nothing, a hollow shell of who you had been mere hours ago.

#peter parker #peter fanfic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter fic #mcu peter #peter parker x you #peter x yn #peter x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x yn #Peter x Y/N #spiderman #spiderman fanfic #spiderman imagine

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craftypeaceturtle · 3 years

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I want to start this off with saying that Virgil being Anxiety always struck me with being weird and not really fitting in with the others. My explanations for this has changed over the millions of years I have totally been in this fandom so maybe I’ll change my mind again but hey ho! This is that one idea I have currently that I just can’t seem to write.

I like the idea of it starting off with Janus moving to the light side of the mindscape.

His room is really similar to Patton’s so Pat agrees to help him pack and carry it all over.

They end up finding a bunch of old baby videos and cut to them both watching old videos of a little toddler chaotic Remus.

The fic I started included their first ever video which was during Remus’ second ever Christmas. The darkside was decorated kinda haphazardly and cheaply. The camera is really shaky and was mostly pointed at the floor. Eventually Janus figures out he’s recording and slams the camera upwards to Remus sitting on the floor eating toast.

I really don’t know why I’m fixated on this but just the idea of a little chubby Remus with a strip of toast in his tight little fist and sucking on his fist. Just absolutely destroying that toast really grossly but in that toddler way where they are still somehow cute.

Eventually Janus is like I’ll move the boxes but you can keep watching if you really want.

Patton only watches a few videos before moving away.

Once Janus comes back he asks where was Virgil.

Awkward suspenseful silence.

“It doesn’t matter, can you help me grab this box here?”

Uh oh a mystery is afoot.

Patton helps him move for the rest of the day but he manages to run into Logan as he makes himself a tea as he goes to bed.

Of course he tells him about this and how he’s a little worried how Janus didn’t answer his question.

Logan is obviously like... “Uh you could ask Virgil or Remus himself?”

And Patton is then like “yoU’RE A GENUIS!”

The next day, as he makes breakfast, he asks Virgil very casually what his childhood was like.

Virgil replies quite generically really.

He at first was like... “uh normal?” but once they really start talking then Virgil explains more specific memories like how Janus always made the best pancakes and how there was a really tall tree in the garden he always wanted to climb but he was scared he would get in trouble.

Patton loosens up completely and just presumes that Janus was only awkward since Virgil did leave the dark side. Nothing bad happened in his childhood then!

He then commented whether he liked being brothers with Remus and Virgil looks at him like he’s insane.

“I never really even saw Remus! I think Janus tried to introduce us once but he upset me or something so we never tried again. I think the next time we really saw each other was when Thomas was an adult.”

Weird but maybe that was just their family.

Patton definitely feels better now but also he’s now all nostalgic so he goes to ask Remus about the childhood.

That’s when the mystery is again afoot.

Remus presents THE EXACT SAME MEMORIES. WORD BY WORD.

“I never really even saw Virgil! I think Janus tried to introduce us once but he upset me or something so we never tried again. I think the next time we really saw each other was when Thomas was an adult.”

Patton panics and obviously Remus picks up on this.

Patton tells him that him and Virgil worded things the exact same way and that Janus even raising two kids completely separated while still tucking them goodnight at the exact same time was impossible.

Remus goes all quiet.

“Well, you know how Janus is denial and stuff. He can make you forget memories and fill in the gaps himself. Sometimes he lets you just fill in the blanks yourself but if it’s really bad then he’ll make fake memories. He always swore up and down he would never do that to us. I always knew that was a lie. I just couldn’t figure out what was fake...”

Remus looks so accepting and dejected that Patton swears to get to the bottom of this.

This is kinda where things get fuzzy and I don’t know specifics for how this story will work.

Eventually it’s revealed that after the split, Remus was really really unstable.

Children don’t really have many intrusive thoughts (obviously unless they’ve gone through some trauma).

So Remus’ role was all over the place and he was just really dissociative and behind.

Eventually one day, Remus split apart again.

Intrusive thoughts are defined as thoughts that cause anxiety and, within children, anxiety appears through intrusive thoughts. Anxiety defines intrusive thoughts and Anxiety takes the form of intrusive thoughts. They can’t exist without the other.

So when Remus split again to separate him and Anxiety, Janus just kind of lost it.

Janus has no idea why they split into two since Remus did previously encompass both. Admittedly not well but they managed! He has no idea what changed...

But he tried to take it in stride.

Only now they were both unstable.

Some days he would wake up to two excited children and other days he had one child and then other days they were conjoined twins.

They would finish each other’s sentences and they both couldn’t talk at the same time.

Sometimes Janus would ask a question to Remus and Virgil in another room would answer, but Remus would then think that he answered.

They were just both way too unstable.

They were separated but yet were clearly meant to be one side. Janus eventually started seeing them both as broken. Why would they have separated when that only worsened things.

This continued until Thomas was a teenager (I’m thinking like 14, quite a young teen).

Then Janus put his foot down and separated them in the hopes that they would develop on their own and be more stable.

This ruined them.

They were inconsolable. They could barely pay attention, it worsened every previous symptom and now they couldn’t even have comfort in each other.

Janus broke down too.

He had no idea what to do. They had to develop on their own but this was ripping them apart more. But he couldn’t go back now as they were furious at him for doing this. He sobbed once he came up with his plan.

He put them in denial about their link and planted fake memories of a childhood.

Now they both think that they never knew each other or actively despised each other.

Here’s where I don’t really know about an ending.

I like the idea of ending it here. A horrible ending of knowing they are in denial but it’s for the “better” and it would now cause more harm to let them know.

But I also like the idea of them both realising and remembering and so they become really close all over again.

It leads to fun interactions like “Rem, can you shut up! It’s my time for the braincell!”/ “No I’m in the middle of something here!”

Or maybe the idea that now they’re both stable, they can fuse into one stable side again?

So there it is. For some reason, I just can’t write this out without it being really clunky. Obviously, considering I don’t even know what the ending should be. I feel like this would be a really fun thing to make art or a comic from but I can’t art. And I can’t imagine trying to design a Remus with a dash of Virgil. Like firstly you have to design a baby Remus but then also give him Virgil vibes!

To ramble for a sec, I do have the idea of them dressing like a knight rather than Remus’ usual outfit. That like tunic with a hood fulfils the fantasy side with Remus and the hood being the hiding in clothes aspect with Virgil. Then you could do really funky armour based on Remus’ logo. But again, I can’t even picture what that would look like let alone actually art that.

#rambling #My writing #remus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #Janus Sanders #deceit sanders #patton sanders #family dark sides #long post

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theworldinclines · 3 years

Text

Title: do you know?

Pairing: Zhou Shu Yi/Gao Shi De

Summary: Zhou Shu Yi fights back. (Episode 2 fill-in, nothing explicit.)

Ao3 link

For the briefest moment, Shu Yi’s mind takes him back to 20.

He’s not yet finished school and in the midst of that final semester’s end, swimming races against Zheng Wen for the hell of it, and letting Bing Wei persuade him along to bars for karaoke, Shu Yi is in love. And if he isn’t there quite yet he’s aware that he’s falling deeper by the day — by the second, really — into irrevocable love with Gao Shi De.

He’s accepted Shi De’s place in his life as fact and he wouldn’t change it. It’s the way Shi De constantly frets over Shu Yi’s meals, and how Shi De can’t drift asleep without the certainty of gluing himself snuggly to Shu Yi’s back. It’s difficult to admit, at least at first, that Shu Yi can no longer imagine how he’d go on without these things. While they’re together, it’s easy to pretend that he’d be just fine apart, even if inside he knows that’s a lie to save them both a few tears. Shu Yi is 20 and falling in love with the man he’d grown up despising; and as the time comes for them to separate, and further when Gao Shi De betrays him, any tears Shu Yi had saved with lying to himself flow tenfold.

He’s almost 22 and Gao Shi De broke his fucking heart.

His eyes rip open as he comes back to his present, where the bastard’s adhered his cheating mouth to Shu Yi’s jawline even as he removes his own suit jacket. Shu Yi’s stomach twists with the realisation that he’d so nearly let him… he’d almost allowed him to get away with this.

With Gao Shi De’s distraction comes a loosened grip, and Shu Yi grapples onto the chance — he launches his leg up without sparing a second, kneecap meeting Shi De’s groin in a hit that has the man’s face crumpling in pain. Even now Shu Yi’s chest twinges in sympathy, but he discards the feeling as abruptly as it had arrived in favour of escaping Shi De’s weight.

In the blink of an eye, he’s clutched his mobile to run from the room in search of the gun he knows his dad stashed in the case of emergency. If the sound of Gao Shi De’s heaving at Shu Yi’s heels and the shaking in Shu Yi’s limbs are anything to go by, this certainly counts as an emergency. He tears the gun from the safe hidden in the back of his closet and hauls back to his feet. Adrenaline and nerves quickening his heartbeat beyond belief, he stands with the gun poised at the bedroom door. It’s strange that, for all that it feels like his mind is tripping over itself with questions, Shu Yi can’t pick out a single distinguishable thought aside from wondering, if it came down to it, would he be able to put a bullet through any part of Gao Shi De?

He tries to calm his breathing in order to listen for Gao Shi De’s inevitable steps and figure in the doorway but when none come, Shu Yi inhales slowly and, with a glance to be sure he’s still got his father’s usual guards set to dial, he ventures into the hall. He’s met with the sound of Gao Shi De retching from inside the guest bathroom, and Shu Yi’s heart drops with relief as he trips back against the wall. He swallows, eyes closed, taking a moment to catch his breath. He stands frozen there in uncertainty, but within what must be less than five minutes, Gao Shi De has gone quiet.

Shu Yi bites his lip between his teeth and peeks into the bathroom. Gun in hand, Shu Yi’s arms falter as he takes in the sight of Shi De out cold on the tile floor, his once pristine dress clothes stained with vomit. Shu Yi grimaces, nose wrinkling in disgust and something like pity, as he prods a foot into Shi De’s ankle. He’s really asleep. With that assurance, Shu Yi sets the gun onto the countertop and allows himself to let out the air he’d been holding like a security blanket in his chest.

More collected, he steps over Gao Shi De to flush the mess he’d made of the toilet. He crouches beside him, unable to believe that after what had happened, now and before, Shi De is shameless enough to sleep so peacefully. Shu Yi raises an open palm to stamp a bruise against Shi De’s skin, a fist to shatter his jaw into fragments, but the hand pushes instead into Shu Yi’s hair, frustration tearing it back from his forehead as he looks away from Shi De’s unconscious face.

He deserves it, Shu Yi knows. For what he’d almost done to Shu Yi this very night, for what he’d done years ago, Gao Shi De deserves to be as hurt as he’d made Shu Yi. And although some part of Shu Yi hates himself for being unable to deliver the blows… he just can’t. Neither can he let Shi De lay here in a puddle of vomit, as much as Shu may want to call it a day and abandon him. He huffs out a breath and goes about removing Shi De’s clothes for the wash.

As he hurriedly wipes down Shi De’s body with purposely very little attention to detail, Shu Yi can almost hear his father’s voice saying that Shu Yi’s got to learn to be less soft, not to be the rug everyone likes to step on and discard. Shu Yi gives another huff, tosses the washing cloth into the sink in favour of dragging Shi De to his feet for the living room. He dumps him unceremoniously onto the leather sofa and Shu Yi swallows once Shi De’s out of his arms, all at once relieved and aching. Fucking bastard.

Shi De’s naked as the day he was born but Shu Yi’s over it. He’s not doing even one more thing for that prick tonight; he can freeze to death for all Shu Yi gives a shit. He leaves him there to replace the gun in the safe and while he’s in his room, Shu Yi changes into loungewear. He spots a pair of sweatpants that he knows would fit Shi De the best out of anything else Shu Yi owns, but he shoves them deep into the drawer and slams it. He looks into the mirror above the dresser, sees himself reflected there with brows furrowed and lips coiled into a small, aggravated bud, and he sneers before spinning around for his bathroom.

He locks the bedroom door and even then his head is pounding so badly that Shu Yi couldn’t possibly sleep. With painkillers in hand, two in the morning finds Shu Yi in the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. Despite himself, he dares a glance into the living room where Gao Shi De is asleep like the dead, the same as he’s already been for hours. He’s never snored, and if not for the light rise and fall of his bare chest, Shu Yi might think he really is dead. He snorts at the thought even as it makes his headache worsen. He shakes his head on his way to turning back for the bedroom, but as he swallows the medicine another glance at Shi De gives Shu Yi pause. He rolls his closed eyes to the ceiling, free hand an annoyed fist at his side, but goes to dig out a spare blanket from his room anyway.

Shu Yi’s fingers hesitate as they come across the one he’s had since late in high school, a blanket he’d saved because it was softer than anything he owns despite having been a relatively inexpensive gift of many from Jiang Yu Xin. He doesn’t admit it often even to himself, but it had also been the blanket Shu Yi kept on his bed for the longest time and was the one Shi De had used on several occasions. If not for it having been a gift from Yu Xin, its ties to Shi De should’ve been enough for Shu Yi to burn the damn thing. He sets the blanket aside for another that has far fewer memories and returns to the living room to drape it over Shi De’s sleeping form.

Looking at him now, face unperturbed and young in sleep, Shu Yi might think… He recalls suddenly this same face hovering above him as its owner, weeping brokenly, had pinned Shu Yi’s stark protests to the sofa.

Shu Yi drops the hand that had drawn across Shi De’s temple. Even after less than a second of contact, his fingertips may as well be scorched with the way they tingle. In another context that feels more like another life, Gao Shi De had held Shu Yi’s hands over his head and kissed him until their chests burned for air, but he’d always worn a smile, fond and teasing.

Wherever his thoughts had been tonight, Shi De hadn’t come from a place of anything gentle, but desperation and heartbreak. Shu Yi could feel it, even after so long apart.

Do you know you’re blessed? Do you know you’ve always been protected?

Shu Yi quietly clears his throat and looks away from Shi De’s face. What had he wanted to tell him, and why did it seem so difficult to tell?

“You asshole, Gao Shi De,” Shu Yi says quietly, without heat. “You…” To Shu Yi’s surprise, Shi De mumbles something in return that he isn’t able to make out. “What? Finally feel like explaining yourself?” Shu Yi mutters sarcastically.

“States,” has Shu Yi leaning down just slightly. “I shouldn’t’ve gone, shouldn’t’ve promised. Shu Yi.” He doesn’t go on, breaths evening out as he drifts again, and Shu Yi sighs. He can always interrogate Gao Shi De tomorrow about all this if he so chooses, even though the idea that Shi De will remember tonight in detail is mortifying.

Shu Yi shakes his head and wanders off in return for the bedroom, every step away from Shi De a relief yet somehow and simultaneously a needle prodded into the pin-cushion that’s become Shu Yi’s heart these days.

“Asshole,” he repeats once he’s alone in his room.

He doesn’t sleep well, to no one’s astonishment, and is awake at six to prepare for the work he’d missed out on completing because of the tornado Shi De had caused last night. As much as he’d like to discuss everything, he’s more behind than he’d been before and although contracts can’t wait, the past certainly can. He works in the office adjacent to the living room, ears picking up the sound of Shi De’s waking movements in the otherwise silent house.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, a likely transparent attempt at nonchalance, as he walks out to meet him. “There’s toiletries in the bathroom,” he informs Gao Shi De. “Clean yourself up and get out of here.” He tries not to show any reaction when Shi De grimaces upon shifting his lower half, a clear indicator that Shu Yi’s knee had left an impression.

“I…” Shi De adjusts to better see Shu Yi. The blanket is covering him from stomach down over his legs, which reminds Shu Yi that he’s either got to throw the whole blanket out or wash it with powerful bleach to erase any hint of the man who’d slept beneath it. “I — Last night, we…” Gao Shi De has the audacity to move a finger from his chest to Shu Yi’s with eyebrows raised, like he’s embarrassed to hear the answer, “Did we…?”

“Don’t you remember what happened?” Shu Yi demands, incredulous. He hadn’t wanted Gao Shi De to remember, sort of, but now that it appears he really has no memory of the night, it’s outrageous. Drunk or not, how could he possibly forget what he’d done? But Shi De looks away, and Shu Yi can’t help as his eyes soften from dismay into something resembling hurt, mouth falling open.

The dinging from the front entrance and his father’s echoing, “Shu Yi!” interrupt any further conversation. “Daddy’s home!” he trills, shopping bags decorating his arms.

Shu Yi stares at him, unamused. “Dad,” he begins, but pauses when his father’s eyes catch Gao Shi De and his casual smile promptly drops into an expression of bewilderment.

“Gao Shi De!” he exclaims in a hoarse voice. The subject hesitantly lifts his face from where he’d hidden it behind his palm. “What are you doing here? You broke your promise!” Shu Yi’s eyes widen slightly at the word, the same that Gao Shi De had mumbled the night before. His father gestures at Shi De’s naked figure and then to Shu Yi, scandalised, ��What did you do to my son?”

At Shi De’s pointed look, Shu Yi interjects, “Do you two know each other?” His father denies it with a smile, of course, but Shi De just averts his eyes. Those contracts are going to have to wait a while longer. “What promise?” Shu Yi demands. The men share a glance and avoid Shu Yi’s gaze. He glares at them both.

What the hell have they been up to?

#ya so im still mad dfhjkgfdglkghgkjd #if it were me zhou shu yi wouldve shot that guy in the face BUT bc i want it to be at least somewhat realistic here's this #my writing #we best love 2 #wbl2 #fighting mr. 2nd #fighting mr 2nd #gao shi de x zhou shu yi #shiyi

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deans-baby-momma · 4 years

Text

The Padackles Link-Chapter 100

After the stressful day we all had, I am actually more than happy that Jackson and JJ went down for the night without much of a fight. I know they are worn out from the trip to the aquarium and then playing on the beach and in the water.

I walk out of the nursery, pulling the door closed as Jared comes out of their bedroom. He smiles at me and I return it. The both of us walk down the hall to join Jensen and Gen in the front room.

As soon as we enter, I look at Gen and nod. While sitting on the beach earlier, watching the guys play with the kids, she and I decided to get everything out in the open; to talk over everything with the guys and see where we go from here.

As much as I hated the thought of losing Gen and Jared as lovers, I despised the idea of losing them as friends.

I clear my throat, causing all three to look my way.

“Guys we need to talk,” I tell them. “This can’t go on like this. We have to make it right.”

Gen speaks up when I finish. “I agree. What we have here is a great friendship and we can’t let a little bit of drama ruin it. Drea and I talked. We love one another tremendously and I want to start out by apologizing to the three of you. I shouldn’t have let my insecurities take over. I see that now. I was scared; afraid that once the baby Drea is carrying is born I’d be overlooked and excluded.”

“Babe,” Jared says getting up from his seat and coming over to her. “That would never happen. I love you so much! This baby is going to bring us closer together, not break us apart. There isn’t anything in this world that would make me forget about or leave you behind. You are the mother to my kids, the love of my life.”

“That’s just it,” Gen says as she molds her palm along his jaw. “I’m not.”

I take the opportunity to speak up, to say the words that I am terrified to say, the words that could ruin mine and Jensen’s relationship.

“She’s right. Well, in the sense that she isn’t the only mother to your kids,” I say refusing to look at any of them but looking at my toes instead. “The baby in my stomach doesn’t belong to Gen. This-” I say as I place my hand over the bump. “-is part you and part me Jare. This is our child.”

I take a chance to look at Jensen and am surprised not to see anger and disbelief or shock. Instead I see a look of understanding and appreciation. Did he not hear what I just said?! I look over at Jared and Gen and they are both smiling like idiots.

“I know, Drea. You are carrying our child,” Jared says as he takes my hand, keeping one arm wrapped around his wife.

I don’t think he understands what I am saying so I open my mouth to speak when Jensen speaks up.

“Baby, we are all aware that you and Jared made a baby together.”

“But-” I begin but Jensen cuts me off. I pull away from Jared and turn to Jay.

“But nothing. Jared and I have talked about this. As soon as that test came back positive, I realized that this is a whole new ballgame. He is the father, you are the mother but Jared and Gen are going to raise him or her as their own, right? It’s what was discussed.”

“You’re not pissed?” I ask him, astonished at his nonchalance of the whole situation.

“Why would I be pissed?”

“Because. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. We were going to use Gen’s eggs. I’m not supposed to be the mother."

“We’ve really gotten ourselves into a pickle here,” Jared speaks up. “Drea, even though the baby is technically yours-” he pauses to hug Gen closer to himself. “-was I wrong to assume that the plan would go as it was? You give birth to the baby but Gen and I raise it. Have you changed your mind?”

I can tell by the tone in his voice that the possibility of me wanting to keep the baby and raise it hadn’t crossed his mind. And while technically it was true, the baby is mine and they have no legal rights to it, I had never even considered keeping it.

“No. As far as I’m concerned this baby-” I say, placing my hand on my bump and rubbing gently. “-this baby is one hundred percent yours and Gen’s. I would never think of reneging on our deal. I’m just the incubator.”

I can see the relief in everyone’s faces as I finish. Gen is the first to hug me, followed by Jared and then Jensen.

“Now that that is settled,” Gen says. “Let’s talk about the elephant in the room,”

“Gee thanks,” I say with a giggle. “Ya know, I’m going to get a lot bigger.”

My dox rolls her eyes and swats the air. “Shut up girl. You look beautiful. No, I’m talking about us, the four of us. Did I fuck it all up with my insecurity and jealousy?”

“No baby, you didn’t,” Jared assures her and looks over at Jay and myself. “Right, guys? Now that we know what brought it on and have dealt with it, nothing’s changed?”

“A few things have unfortunately,” Jay says and we all look at him. “I think we need to reevaluate our relationship….the foursomes.”

“Do you not want it anymore?” I ask and I have to say I would completely understand if Jensen would want to stop. The Padalecki’s and I kind of pressured him into participating. Although he was eventually willing and actively participated, it was still a situation thrust upon him.

Jensen smiles when he senses my anxiety. “Not at all,” he answers. “I think we can all agree we each enjoy the hell out of it. But maybe we should just stick with…...well, how do I put this? No more one-on-ones with each other’s spouses; we were good when it was the four of us together. Shit got twisted when we went off on our own, so to speak.”

I visibly relax. He has a point. Everything was going good until then. I look over to the Padalecki’s and they nod in agreement, smiles on their faces.

“What about-” I ask as I look between the three of them, terrified of what I’m about to bring up but it needs to be assessed. “-when you two go back to work? Gen and I can’t?”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that fills that air in the room after my inquiry. I am beginning to feel like I might have just kept my mouth shut but Jay finally speaks.

“I didn’t mean that,” he laughs. “I meant you and Jared and me and Gen. Hell, fuck each others’ brains out while we are gone if you want. Just maybe invest in more memory on your phones so you can record it and share with us.”

We all laugh at him as he finishes with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @carryonmywaywardcaptain @darlingpeanut @sunskittlex @sea040561 @pretty-fortune @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @internationalmusicteacher @kricketc29 @natura1phenomenon @mannls @nickie-amore @spn-tw-37 @frozenhuntress67 @blacktithe7 @supernaturallymarvellous @thetardishasaquidditchpitch @sirod-30 @heyitscam99 @smoothdogsgirl @i-just-wanna-run-hell @paintballkid711 @closetspngirl @starfirerules @vickiq9761 @rainflowermoon @spnbaby-67 @drakelover78 @jessieray98 @81mysteriouslyme @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @topthis808 @lilulo-12 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @tftumblin @markofdean79 @thevelvetseries @larajadeschmidt13 @delightfullykrispypeach @deanmonandnegansbitch @midsummereve1993 @atc74

#not doing tags #too much work

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licenselesswriter · 3 years

Note

1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 41, 44. And if I could send more, I would.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction? Started reading when I was 12, started writing it, when I was 14, so reading, 19 years ago, and writing 17 years ago.

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both? I’m a 33.3% reader, 33.3% WIP machine, a 33.4% writer, and 100% mess, I usually spend my time doing an absurd amount of WIP that comes out of thin air, like, I can be eating an apple, boom, Bori WIP, a cup of coffee? Boom, Roro WIP, breathing? Boom, Lucaya WIP (that last one happens the most)

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do? It’s called Unfaithful (EN), it’s on fanfiction.net, and honestly, it’s so well written, that I had nausea 3 times while reading it, the pain was so palpable that I felt ill from it.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now. Right now, and in order 1 - Unfaithful (EN) 2 - Twenty Nights 3 - Perfect

6. How do you find a new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction? Fanfiction or AO3, and have an excel doc with my favorite ships, then I go to the random number generator, putting 1 as the minimum and maximum the number of the last ship I added to the list, then hit random, and read about that ship, keep things fresh.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics? Both.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like? When they are on Tumblr, a few times.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community. I’m sorry, but I don’t know if they have Tumblr, so, amirmitchell, snowdrifts, and Onde Tu Esteves

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for? Fandom: Game of Thrones, love all those modern universe AU I have to say. Pairing: Lucaya (Not a surprise) Character: Lucas Friar, Portgas D. Ace, Roronoa Zoro, or Prince Zuko.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles? Coffee, food, and usually, Spotify, all that, sometimes, make my brain work into having titles about the things I want to write.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic? I do outlines, in 5 stages, so a pretty big one. 1 - I write in my notebook, what I want to write, like a general idea. 2 - Post it on my walls and door, to give the story some structure. 3 - Notebook outline the arch of the story. 4 - Outline every chapter on word. 5 - Reduce that chapter into mini arches to write faster.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not? I do (now), I usually don’t post anything that is less than 2900 words, Why? because we must not forget that writers not only write for people in the fandom, they mainly write for themselves, and I love to read something among that word count because that’s long enough to keep me on the hook.

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching? I do research for my fics, how deep? I can give indications for divorce paperwork in the state of New York, even if you want or not to go scorch the earth with the “fault” rule, I can give an appropriate value to an apartment or a house in New York, Texas, Nashville, and San Francisco, and I can do taxes on those states too, and I know more about how high school classes work in the US than in my country, even when I went to those classes, and I’m from Santiago, Chile, you know, in South America, like, the last country of South America

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback? I don’t, once I finish writing something, I run away, and watch anime for a few hours, or work (Yeah, sometimes I write on my lunch hour)

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie? I do apologize to “The Games we Play” I have no idea how I outlined your 26 chapters, but I’m still on chapter 2, and I’m sorry.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)? Sometimes I do because sometimes, I write things wrong.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? That happiness I get when I’m in the Zone, and I write something that makes me say “Fuck, that was good”

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? I call it “The Deep White”, also known as writer’s block.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write? I don’t write it anymore, because I was banned from a forum for writing it, but I love to write a bad ending, like “Killing the main character that I make you love for 30 chapters in the end” ending. I’m evil, I know, sue me.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write? The “Good girl trying to change the bad boy,” I hate, apologies, I DESPISE that trope, it’s not cool, first, to be with someone abusive, and second, to try to change someone because you think you’re so almighty that you will change him (or her) because of love, bs, I SAID BS.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist. I do, and of course, it’s named “Writing Shiet” because my brain can only process decent titles for fics (Says the guy who once named a fic “No Title”) Here’s the link

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing? Anime and Manga.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random? I don’t usually do it, but when I do it, I do it cryptic, like “You might be surprised, but this, I called in the beginning.”

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)? I ignore it, If I can ignore good advice, ignore something that gives me more stress it’s an easy cake.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it? I did but didn’t submit, I wrote for 2019 fictoberfest on Tumblr, but never send a shit, I did enjoy it tho

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words. "Well, we're still not in Texas," he says, implying something not PG-13 at all. "My God, in what did I turn you?" Maya teases him before getting up and grab his hand, pulling him up. Lucas grins at her, "On," he replies, making Maya flirty hit his chest

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones? I love writing Lucas and Maya, and honestly don’t know if it helps me or not LOL.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from? 1 - From November to June CH3 A few hours later, Maya heard a knock on her door. She takes a peek through the magic eye on her door and saw Lucas. She grabs her phone and fastly texts him. She was able to hear the 'ding' of his phone, and spying through the magic eye she saw his reaction. "Ok, first of all, I'm not that, second, my mother is not that, and third, I'm not gonna put that there, that's fucking gross, and probably deadly if you consider the size of my hands." he defends himself. 2 - Ten Duel Commandments CH2 Maya smiles at him, "Since you're all Texan cowboy goody-good boy, I imagine you would relate more with the honorable Lord Stark," she teases him. "Says the woman who read three books in a row and texts me at four in the morning," he replies before pulling out his phone, "R+L=J," he teases her, reading her text. "That's private, asshole," Maya recriminates him. 3 - The One Who Stayed CH18 "Then, I have less... GET OFF ME FUCKER!" Maya screamed, punching the person who grabbed her arm, "Holy shit, Lucas." she says, looking at the person she just hit. "Noted, never approach to you by surprise." Lucas says on the floor, "Well, this makes me feel more confident about you being here alone." he says before start laughing.

33. What do you like writing better: one-shots or multi-chapter stuff? Multi-chapter, unless, it’s wedding fics because I love weddings.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is? None.

35. How much has writing fic changed your life? Not much, but has made me happier.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of? The Glee Project Fandom.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write. "Shawn called him, and he assures him that if you try something inappropriate, he has a shotgun," she adds, making Lucas's face go pale. "Well, guess like father, like son," he comments, making Maya show unexpected interest in his words.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)? As I explained in the outline question, pretty tame if we count that I have my outline process numbered LOL.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on? That I try to make it real, I try to make people feel something when they read.

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on Tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)? Tumblr? The One Who Stayed Fanfiction.net? Ten Duel Commandments

44. Rant about something writing-related. Please, let’s stop glorifying the “Bad Boy” character, he’s an asshole, allow me to explain, Bakugo, fucking asshole, he’s just a bully with an oversized ego, no, he’s not a tsundere, no, it’s not cute, that shit is abusive, and it really makes me want to punch people in their nose when the romanticize that bullshit.

Done

(Told ya I was bored)

#Licenseless Answers

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razieltwelve · 4 years

Text

Berserker (Fate/Zero x Final Rose)

Sigrid looks at the… man who had summoned her and feels nothing but pity. Yet as he speaks, as this haggard, sickly, wounded man tells her of his reason, she feels nothing but all-consuming rage. Dimly, she is aware of her Semblance activating, of Saviour’s restrictions releasing one after the other as the primal, basic desire to protect flares in her chest, as hot and heavy as magma.

“He dies now.” She ignores her Master’s startled cry and tears a hole through space and time. They reappear in the basement, and the rage she feels grows even greater. Her ears are ringing. Her jaw is clenched. Yet everything is crystal clear. It always is with Saviour. Beneath her, the… horde of worms convulses and recoils.

“So… you managed to summon a Servant?” Zouken sneers. “And a powerful one at -” He trails off and stares dumbly at the sword sticking out of his chest. And then he laughs. “Really? Do you think something like that can…” He trails off.

A savage smile crosses her lips.

“You are unworthy of life, unworthy even of existing. You may think yourself immortal, but my sword can sever the very foundations of Creation itself. You were dead the moment I came into this world.”

Saviour can craft weapons that embody and even transcend concepts and ideals. It can craft weapons that can overturn the very rules that govern Creation. One of the very first she learned to create was a sword capable of not simply killing whatever it hit but also extirpating the very idea of it. The sword didn’t kill things. It didn’t even erase them. It removed the very possibility or idea of their existence in the first place. Of course, the tricky part had been managing the effect to not go to far. It wouldn't do, after all, to use the sword on an opponent and wipe out everyone descended from them too.

In the case of Zouken, it removed him and all of his familiars, crest worms, and other horrors.

As the Worms vanished, Sigrid leapt forward to catch Sakura. The girl stared at her with vacant eyes, and Sigrid’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. If only she’d been summoned earlier. Even just a little bit earlier…

“Here.” Sigrid stepped and reappeared next to Kariya. “Take her.”

“I…” He bowed as deeply as he could and then took Sakura in his arms. “Thank you.”

“We still have a Grail War to win,” Sigrid murmured. “But for tonight this will be enough.” She could feel the Grail even from a distance, and the corruption within it grated on her nerves. It was tempting to simply purge the accursed thing from existence, but she wanted to know more before she acted. “Wait.” She frowned. “When I killed Zouken, the taint within you was removed as well. However, your body has already been severely weakened. I can reverse the damage.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” he asked quietly. “I… I just want to get Sakura away from this place.”

“Tomorrow then,” Sigrid agreed. “Do you want me to burn this place to the ground?”

“Yes,” Kariya replied. “Zouken… that… bastard sent the rest of my family away in case something went wrong during the Grail War. There’s nobody here but us. He gave me access to some accounts to help fund things during the Grail War, so we can find a hotel room or something.”

“All right. Once we’re out of here, I will destroy it. Perhaps later, it can be rebuilt, but the very ground here is impure. It will have to be cleansed first.”

“If I live through this,” Kariya said. “I’ll buy another house, somewhere else, somewhere without all of this… history.”

X X X

Sigrid was not especially renowned for her sneaking ability. It was largely a product of how she was used on the battlefield. Saviour had the finesse of a rapier… with the power of an avalanche. It was more efficient to force the enemy to gather its force, so she could crush them in a single decisive blow.

Of course, just because she wasn’t renowned for sneaking didn’t mean she was bad at it. Her mother had been on of the greatest huntresses the Yun had ever produced, and her cousins were all exceedingly sneaky as well. Through a combination of training and osmosis, she’d learned how to conceal herself with the best of them.

And weren’t the results from this little sneaking sessions fascinating?

With her presence concealed, she had a front row seat to the debacle that was Rider, Saber, and Lancer doing a combination of talking and fighting. Their masters were also nearby, and Saber’s had concealed himself particularly well. Assassin was lurking around too, but she had little interest in him. It as not arrogance but fact to say that someone who relied on surprise and concealment had little chance against Saviour.

And then Archer appeared.

His technique was interesting enough, and she wondered what expression he would have if she disrupted it. After all, Saviour was fully capable of cutting off the links between pocket dimensions and the normal world. True, such severance could be countered, but she wondered if he was capable of it. Still, in combat, she’d save that trick for the split-second before she attacked. By the time he noticed anything was amiss, he’d be dead.

Of course, that was when he decided to assert his dominance by spamming projectiles at everyone. In her mind, Kariya asked her to intervene. He despised Tokiomi - and Sigrid did too after learning he was the one who’d handed Sakura to Zouken - so he could hardly let him get an advantage this early in the game even if they had no intention of letting it play out to its conclusion.

Glad that she’d chosen to wear a suit for her sneaking (she did so love her mother’s sense of style), she leapt out into the open and summoned one of Saviour’s lesser blades. It would still suffice, and annoying Archer seemed like it would be fun. Certainly, Saviour wanted her to.

She landed in front of the group, and her blade swept out in a blur, too fast to follow. Half a dozen of Archer’s projectiles shattered like glass, and she bit back a smile at the look of outrage on his face.

“You dare!” he snarled as more portals formed. But even as he prepared to attack again, she could see a hint of wariness in his eyes. He must have taken a closer look at the sword in her hands. “What is that sword?”

“This?” She smiled thinly and tossed it aside. The blade disintegrated and another, slightly different one formed in her hands. “A trinket for one such as myself.”

She felt the unease of the other Servants behind her. From her understanding, just looking at her weaponry gave magus headaches since they were akin to Divine Constructs yet different in that they should not be able to exist. That made sense. Saviour itself was a Semblance that set itself apart from all else, imposing its will on everything and reshaping rules as it saw fit. If it happened to break all the rules, well, that was simply the cost of doing business.

“Hmph.” Archer sneered again. “It would seem you mongrels are in luck. I’ve seen enough. We shall finish this later.” He vanished, and Sigrid let him go before turning to the other Servants.

“Berserker?” Saber asked warily. “But…”

“I seem too lucid for one?” Sigrid understood the classification system. She had, at some point, been driven almost insane by her Semblance when awakening the third level, but she’d regained control. Still, it was enough for her to qualify, and she could feel Saviour’s influence more strongly now than at almost any point in her past life. Thankfully, her control was still intact. Right now, her Semblance wanted to slaughter all of her enemies and conquer the world. Still, it was curious seeing a counterpart from her earlier life summoned as Servant although from this world, not Remnant. “There are reasons for that, I suppose.”

Sigrid is not the master or reading people that her cousin, Victoria is, but she’s not half bad either. And Saviour really does see everything. It can see the protective way Saber has moved to stand between her and the white-haired woman. Rider, likewise, has moved his bulky frame between her and his Master. Only Lancer is more relaxed, and that is because he thinks his master is still concealed. It’s a joke, of course. Relying solely on magic for concealment is foolish.

“I’m not here for a fight. I was ordered to observe. However, my Master wished to see if i could handle Archer’s projectiles. It would seem I can.”

“Your sword?” Saber asked. “I do not recognise it.”

“You wouldn’t. My legend was never about my sword. And I’m as good with a spear as I am with a sword, anyway.” The air shimmered beside her, and a spear appeared. Lancer’s eyes gleamed with interest, and she glanced at him. “Another time, Lancer. Your Master’s patience must be fading already.”

He winced and nodded. “I am being ordered to withdraw. My apologies. Perhaps next time we meet, we can test each other’s skill.”

The others withdraw soon after. Sigrid feels something in her stir at the sight of Saber and Irisviel. She knew them in her other life, or people who looked and acted much like they did. Still, it is Rider who has the parting word.

“Would you not join me?” Rider boomed jovially.

Sigrid inclined her head. “You are a king, are you not?” He nodded. “Then I must refuse. I have only ever served one royal family, and I see little reason to change that.”

X X X

“You know,” Sigrid drawled. “If you hadn’t called to have the building evacuated, I’d have killed you where you stood.”

Kiritsugu fired on her without a second thought. She caught a bullet out of the air and letsthe others simply veer off into the walls of the construction site, a casual application of Saviour’s ability to bend space that had long long since become second nature. “Saber -”

“Save your command seal,” she said. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have bothered to reveal myself.” She sat down on a slab of upraised concrete. “I’m simply curious.”

“About what?” He is wary, and he is right to be. She could sense Maiya moving into position, but a casual flick of her wrist embedded a sword in the wall beside her head. Of course, she could have just fired a projectile, but they didn’t know she could do that yet. “We’re having a polite conversation now. If you’re smart you’ll keep it that way.”

His eyes narrowed, and Maiya backed away. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Why the Grail?” she asked. “You’re an assassin. Perhaps the Einzbern hired you, but I doubt that’s the whole story.” She glanced back at the collapsing hotel. “Oh, and Kayneth isn’t dead.”

“What?”

“We’ll come back to that. But why do you want the Grail?”

X X X

Author’s Notes

So, this is just an idea I came up with. I’m just poking the metaphorical tree to see what falls out. Out of the first three bearers of Saviour (Lightning, Averia, and Sigrid), Sigrid is the one most likely to be summoned as a Berserker. Otherwise, she is likely to arrive as either a Saber or a Lancer. Unlike Averia, she probably wouldn’t qualify as an Assassin since Averia actually did a lot of those missions whereas Sigrid was more commonly deployed as the proverbial big gun for Arendelle.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

You can find my original fiction on Amazon here.

#final rose #fate/zero #fanfiction #sigrid #kariya matou #saber

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breyito · 4 years

Text

Brittle

TITLE: Brittle AUTHOR/ARTIST: @breyito (read also on AO3) PROMPT DAY : Day 4: Hurt/Comfort for @geraskierweek SUMMARY: Post- Ep. 6Jaskier is on his way to being mostly allright, when an unexpected meeting with Geralt tears all his efforts apart. WORD COUNT: 2.1 k BOOKS/NETFLIX/2002 SHOW/VIDEO GAME: Netflix show TRIGGERS/WARNINGS: Angst. Hurt no Comfort. Emotional pain. RATING: Teen and up ADDITIONAL NOTES: Yeah...I chose hurt. Ooops? ñ.ñ I couldn't help it!!! I just love Jaskier and his angsty-potential!!! Tbh, I've read some amazing post-ep.6 fix-it fics, but I'm of the opinion that some things you just don't forgive; at least not without effort from the other part. Hence, this was born. I knoooow that Geraskier Week is ending, but RL is a bitch and writing (even if I've written more this week than the past semester, jeez) is hard. I plan to finish all the prompts, even if it takes me another week lol. Tho I'm having a hard time to come up with ideas for the last two days, so...help?? Enjoy the pain!!

When they find the bard, he is singing in a small tavern. This far North the Nilfgaard army has not being able to reach, yet; but refugees have been traveling and passing through, and it is noticeable. The place is fairly full, the ambient warm from the fire on the hearth and the ammount of bodies. The mood of the people, though, is solemn and gloom. The usual joyful tunes and bawdy lyrics that make most of Jaskier's songs would not be welcome; but his most recent works, full of longing and despair are listened to with the aumost attention; people eager to feel conected in their grief.

~I need time to replace, what I gave away~

He is singing with his eyes closed, the melody pouring out of him without effort; and he does not see them enter: the sorceress, the princess and the two Witchers.

~Though I try to resist I still want it all ~

The four of them sit in a corner, willing to wait until the performance is over; but the white haired witcher does not take his eyes away from the bard for a second.

~I see a little house on the beach and children's names I see quiet nights poured over ice and the sweetest ale~

Geralt tries really hard not to think that the song is about him, because surely it can't be. Neither of them are built for a quiet life and a settled home; and yet he can't stop hearing the hopeful proposal of 'lets go to the coast for a while' that he never responded to, which was on itself an answer of its own.

~But everything is shattering and it's my mistake~

Vesemir notices the moment the lark sees Geralt, because his body fills with tension, his shoulders go back and his eyes fill with something else: anger, pain, hurt. He feels the sharp inhale Geralt takes of the man’s souring scent, and hears the aborted whine that climbs up his troath.

~Only fools fall for you, only fools Only fools do what I do, only fools fall~

The sorceress thinks to herself that there is no way the dumb Witcher can miss the song being about him. The bard is practically singing it to him, not looking away once. The rest of the place might not notice, but the four of them on the table know. Even without the enhanced senses she thinks she can smell the betrayal and the hurt the bard pours out in every exhale. She did not know things were so dire between the two men, or she would have insisted on Geralt aproaching first, with an apology at the ready; instead of ambushing him to ask such a big favour.

~Only fools fall…~

As soon as the song finishes the bard jumps into action; throwing the few coins in the floor into his lute case and sprinting for the back door. Obviously, they follow. Or, Yennefer and Geralt do, leaving Ciri with Vesimir inside, to protect her.

~*~

Jaskier has never believed the saying that Witchers have no emotions; that they can't feel and only care for killing and coin. Because if that were true, then why would they help?why would they risk their own lives for the ungrateful little beings that humans are? They are hated, spat on, cursed, stoned...and yet they continue to travel seeking for monsters to kill and people to save. Surely it would be easier to just take whatever they want, instead of getting barely what they need? They could stop traveling, live in the woods or the mountains, hunt and plant and live quietly; until people grew desperate enough to seek them out and pay whatever amount they demand for killing whatever creature is tormenting the pesky little humans. Or become bandits, roaming the roads and stealing and killing as much as they want. It's not a big secret (just something people like to forget) that they can control the minds of people with their magic (similar to the way mages can, but they don't, not usually). They could take over a city, a kindom. They could do so many things; things that would turn them into the monsters people already treat them as. But they don't. They just keep picking themselves up after a badly payed hunt, a stoning, a beating for just exhisting; and they go back to the Path. So no, Jaskier has never believed the rumours about Witchers not having feelings. Traveling with Geralt only proved him right.

But right now he wishes it were true.

Because if the lack of emotional conexions was something biological, something they did to Witchers on those cursed Trials; if love and care and affection was something they forced them to erase, this would be easier. It would mean Geralt doesnt care for him because he literally can't. But knowing he has such a bottomless heart; that he cares, so deeply; having seen first hand how far his affection goes...and yet know none of it is directed to him? Know that he's just an annoyance, a passing amusement, some silly human the man took pity in? That's torture. Jaskier doesnt know what to do now. What do you do when you realize (when someone literally has to spit it to your face because you just won't get it) that the person you built your life around despises you? How do you keep moving on, when you have linked yourself (your sense of being, your sense of worth) so fully to another being and that other is no longer there? When you have spent more of your life by their side than alone? How do you manage without them?

Somehow, he endures.

It takes time, and acting skills, and ale and some new-found interest in weapons and fighting to release all that anger coursing through him; but he copes. He stills feels brittle, like all his pieces were put in the right order but not glued back together, and a minimal shift can break him apart again. There’s nothing to do about the pain, not really; just wait for it to dull until it’s an ache and not searing pain (like the throb you feel in a broken ankle when it’s going to rain years after it happened; not the excruciating pain of the exposed bone through ruptured flesh). He’s not there yet; but he feels like he could be, in a few more months (or years, being realistic, but realism has never been his strong suit, has it?).

There’s a war going on, after all, and he can’t give himself the luxury of pining when people are being killied left and right. He stops singing about White Wolves and monsters; because Princess Cirilla is still unacounted for, and people are starting to remember (after years of a heavy silence imposed by Calanthe) that Geralt of Rivia was to claim her by the Law of Surprise. He has made a name for himself and the last thing he wants it’s to be taken hostage on the missguided notion that Geralt would give a rat’s ass about him and come to his rescue. He is not that stupid.

So he crafts another identity, another name and life and repertoire (he’s lucky that enough songs from Jaskier are being sung by other minstrels, so he doesn’t runs out of ballads and dittys while he composes new material), changes his image to fit in rather than stand out (more earthy colors with minimal embellishments, embroidered by his own hand), grows a beard (still carefully maintained) and lets his hair reach his shoulders. He sings more about longing and loses, homesickness and heartbreak; but still tries to end the performances on a high note, a cheerful tune (people respond better, when they can sing their woes but still feel hope at the end of another dark day).

Or at least that is what he usually does. It only takes Geralt to show up once for all his careful work to come tumbling down. He can feel his grief start to choke him and barely manages to finish the song (and of course it’s about Geralt, because all his songs about heartbreak are about him) before he’s gathering his things in a hurry and running for the door. He just wants to get to his room at the inn before he starts to unravell. Of course he doesn’t get to, because the damn Witcher and the fucking witch follow him and cut him off.

“Jaskier.”

“That’s not my name.” he answers in a lower registry. It’s useless, he knows, but he still tries to side step and continue on his way. A hand grabs his forearm and the strenght behind it stops him short. He can feel the heat of his palm scorching his flesh even under all those layers and he starts to shake.

“Jaskier.”

“What? I’m on my way to the inn, I’ll be gone by morning. You-”

“Jaskier”

“-don’t have to see me or talk to me-”

“Jaskie-”

“-or even acknowledge me so-”

“Jaskier!”

“-what do you want!?” he screams, and his voice carries into the darkness around them. “What could you possibly want from a shit-shoveling useless minstrel, uh!?”

He can tell that both the Witcher and the sorceress are shocked by his outburst; and he takes advantage of this by shaking the hand off and walking a few more feet away from them.

“Jaskier. We need you.” Is what he hears next, and the words make him stop. He lets loose a bitter short laugh.

“Oh, haven’t you heard, woman, that he doesn’t need anyone?” he hears steps behind him and continues walking, “And I wouldn’t go depending on him very much either. He tends to bite and run the other way when that happens, you know?” The Witcher gets ahead of him and grabs his shoulders, thightly and pushes him against a wall.

“Don’t do that.” he growls, shaking him, impatient. “She’s done nothing to-”

"How is it, Geralt” Jaskier interrumpts, finally looking into Geralt’s eyes “that you go out of your way to respect, protect, love” he spats the word out “people that curse your name, spit on you, wish you dead and use you so badly that you have nothing left when they are done with you;” he doesn’t even try to pretend the words aren’t about certain witch that has apparently deemed the Witcher’s company good enough again, he sees her flinch at the quick look he shots her but pays it no mind “but show nothing but disgust towards the one person who has always stood by you?" he sees the way Geralt recoils at that, but honestly, if he can lash out when he feels hurt then he deserves to hear the pain he caused others.

"Jas-"

"What did I had to do; what did I had to change; what else did I had to sacrifice for you to give me a sliver of your affection?” He can’t hold his gaze anymore and just looks over his shoulder, tears escaping uninvited. “Just a morsel, a fucking crumb of yourself?" His voice breaks and fuck, he wanted to finish this conversation with the last dregs of his dignity intact, but he doesn’t even get that, does he?

"Jaskier, I'm so-" despite the fact that Jaskier has spent the last fucking year wanting to hear an apology from the man that destroyed his heart; right now he can’t. He suddenly feels so tired. Brittle, like that single word could make him crumble and disperse his very core to the winds. He swallows a moan and starts begging.

"Please, leave." he pauses, to see if the other man will, for once, heed his request. He doesn’t, of course. " Geralt, please, leave." he pleads. The Witcher lets go of his shoulders, but opens his mouth. But Jaskier won’t let him speak, not if he doesn’t want to end the night reduced to more pieces. "You are no good to me witcher. You wound me; it hurts. Everytime I think of you a fucking hole opens in my chest and threatens to consume whole.” he starts wheezing, but keeps talking, trying to explain his pain, to make him understand how badly those scarred hands have wounded him. “Seeing you here... Listening to your voice? It’s ripping me to pieces."

"Ja-" the bard feels like puppet whose string was cut. He falls to the floor in a crouch, hugging himself, trying to contain the void growing in his chest.

"Geralt, have mercy." he sobs, desperate. He hides his face between his knees, tears and snot being absorved by the dark fabric.

Finally, Geralt leaves. The keens and sobs of pain follow him all the way back to the tavern.

"Good gods, what have you done to him, Witcher?" Vesemir asks when they return to the table. The piercing cries continue on in the night.

~*~

Mmm, are those reworked lyrics from Troye Sivan?? Yes, yes they are. I just love this song and I had to tweak the lyrics a bit so they fit better, but I love the result, tbh. Thanks for reading!!! Ideas for day 6 (destiny) and day 7 (free day) are accepted ;P

Kisses

#2020 geraskier week #netflix witcher #fanfiction #day 4 hurt/comfort #angst #sad jaskier #post-ep 6

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babyblujayyy · 4 years

Text

Imagine No. 1

prompt song: “slow dancing in the dark” by joji

pairing: alex elmslie (imallexx) x reader

warnings: slight swearing, fluff

word count: 2149

random visits from alex were nothing out of the ordinary.

seeing as he was the brother of one of your closest friends, the pair of you had known each other for years, and in that time had managed to form a close-knit bond.

you could still recall the late nights spent sprawled out on the couch, laughing along with alex as the pair of you gawked at the television.

he was someone you knew you could depend on for anything, and was undoubtedly one of the first people you would go to if you ever needed anything. from providing your favorite comfort food, to just listening to mindless rambling, alex was no stranger to being there for you whenever you called.

and yet, despite being so reliable and open to help any chance he got, alex was not one to accept the same favor in return. he reveled in being well put-together and strong, choosing rather to face his problems by working out or hardcore gaming.

which is why you were surprised when a soft knock on your door caught your attention, diverting your focus away from the movie you’d been watching. you glanced at the time before pausing it, taking note that it was almost two in the morning and pouring down rain. slowly you pulled yourself up off the couch, tugging on a nearby cardigan before moving to the front door.

“who could possibly be here at this hour?” you wondered aimlessly to yourself, taking in a deep breath before pulling the door open.

the sight before you made your stomach churn, your heart ache, and your eyes tear up.

standing in the doorway before you was none other than alex elmslie, body slumped over in defeat, and face stained with tears. he was soaked from top to bottom from the rain, his brown hair plastered to his forehead like clay.

you stared dumbfounded for a moment up him before your brain finally caught up, making you shake your head in panic. you found yourself reaching out your hand, grabbing hold of his arm and quickly pulling him into the warmth of your apartment.

he engulfed your smaller frame as soon as the door was shut behind him, pulling you close to his chest as he shivered in your arms. you didn’t say anything, didn’t take notice of the way your clothes became damp from the close contact with his. you just stood there in his arms, drawing gentle circles into his arms as he sobbed into your shoulder.

“she cheated on me.” he whimpered as he tried to catch his breath. “she cheated on me y/n.”

you stiffened as your mind processed the new information, thinking back to the girl he had introduced you to months ago. it had taken less than two minutes for your brain to decide that you absolutely despised her, but felt that it had not been your place to deter him from dating her.

“i… i don’t know what to say alex,” you struggled to console him, “i mean, i never personally fancied her myself, but i never thought she would…”

he shook his head, pulling away from your arms so he could face you directly. his eyes were glassy and dark, disappointment and hurt glimmering within them. as he moved away you found yourself beginning to shiver, now suddenly chilled from the loss of his embrace.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he let out a defeated sigh. “i didn’t know where else to go, or what else to do. i let my body do the driving, and it led me here.”

you nodded your head in understanding, wrapping your now damp cardigan tighter around your small frame. the two of you stood in silence for several minutes, unsure of what else to say or how to say it.

you found yourself staring deep into his ocean blue eyes, entranced by the different hues and the subtle golden flecks that glittered like stars. despite the pain and emotion that swirled within them, you couldn’t help but admire the way they were fixated upon your face.

it was a thought that often entered your mind whenever he was around, how you felt light-headed whenever the pair of you made direct eye-contact. it felt as though he could stare straight into your soul, and a part of you knew you wanted him to.

your eyes flickered down to his lips for just a brief moment, lingering on them as you had done so many times before. finally, you decided to break the silence.

“look alex, im not exactly great with words when it comes to this sort of thing. not anywhere near as good as you, that’s for damn sure. but i do want to help you in any way i can. i can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through right now.”

your mind raced for the right words to say, anything that could lessen the pain that he felt. you wanted nothing more than to relieve him of his hurt, wipe away every tear that still clung to his face. and yet, there you were, with nothing to say and nothing to do that could change what had been done.

“alex i…” you sighed, forcing a supportive smile. “you’ve been there for me without fail each and every time i’ve needed you, and i want to be there for you too. i’m just not quite sure how exactly i can—”

you paused for a moment as a sudden idea popped into your head, an idea so crazy it just might end up working.

you sucked in a quick breath before looking up to meet his gaze, eyes lingering once more before you stepped forward and took his hand in your own.

“can i ask you something kinda strange?” you inquired, hesitating for a moment before taking hold of his other hand.

“you can ask me anything y/n,” he said with a small sad smile, “no matter how strange.”

you allowed yourself to relax a bit at his go-ahead, giving his hands a small squeeze before pulling him out of the hallway and into the dimly-lit kitchen. as you made your way to the middle of the room you allowed your arms to drop, leaving him standing in wait behind you as you moved towards the radio on the counter.

you could feel his eyes boring into your back as you flicked the start switch on the radio, turning the volume dial to the right until music began softly filling the space. you turned back to him then, face wearing a sincere smile as you held out your hand to him.

“dance with me alex.” you whispered, eyes meeting his gaze as you watched for his reaction.

wordlessly, he made his was over to you, taking your hands in his and gently wrapping them around his neck. he timidly placed his hands on your hips, pulling your body close to him as the pair of you swayed silently to the music.

your heart beat loudly against your chest as you held him in your arms, syncing your breaths together as you continued to slowly rock your bodies to and fro.

“talk to me alex.” you murmured against his chest, moving to press your face into the crook of his neck. “let your heart speak, and i’ll try to answer.”

he nodded in response, removing his hands from your hips to wrap around the small of your back. he stayed silent for a moment, before he melted further into your embrace.

“i can’t believe she did this to me y/n, i just can’t believe she did it.” his hands trembled as he began to speak his mind, fingers linking tighter together as though he was afraid to let you go.

“i gave her everything i could, my heart, my time, my money, everything i had.”

“you did what you could,” you responded, mouth half-buried in the fabric of his shirt. “nothing that happened was your fault alex.”

“but i must’ve done something wrong.” he insisted, shaking his head as he held back tears. “why else would she have cheated on me?”

“she wasn’t a good person” you said under your breath, just loud enough for him to pick up. “you don’t deserve to go through all this shit alex.”

the song changed as you slowly spun in a circle, never moving away from each other’s embrace.

“is there something wrong with me y/n? something that made her think that it was ok to go and do that to me?”

at this you pulled your head back just far enough to meet his gaze, faces inches apart as you shook your head firmly.

“alex, there is 100% absolutely nothing wrong with you. you’re special, you’re sweet, you’re perfect.”

he remained motionless for a moment as he stared into your eyes, the slow swaying of your bodies coming to a stop as he remained frozen where he stood. panic surged through your body suddenly as you gazed into his eyes, terrified at the thought that you had overstepped your boundaries.

seconds felt like hours passing as the pair of you stood in silence, still wrapped in each other’s arms while music poured from the radio.

“can i ask you something?” alex said after what felt like an eternity, blue eyes shining with an intensity that took your breath away.

you nodded your head after a moment of hesitation, heart pounding against your chest as he brought his face closer to yours.

“can i be selfish for a moment? i promise it’ll be quick.” this time it was his eyes that flickered down to your own lips, lingering there for a moment as he awaited your response.

his breath mixed with yours as you attempted to vocalize your approval, furrowing your eyebrows in frustration as the words got caught in your throat.

“fuck it.” you growled inwardly, cupping his face in your hands and pulling him into your kiss.

you expected it to be quick, a light peck on the lips that would satisfy his need, but instead he pulled you closer to him, lips melding together as he released all his pent-up tension. your hands slipped from his face into his hair as your lips moved in sync, the kiss soft, and passionate, and electrifying.

you jumped slightly as his hands gripped onto your hips, causing him to grin against your lips as he backed you against the counter, only stopping once he felt you couldn’t move any further.

he was the first to pull away when oxygen was required, the two of you panting heavily as he rested his forehead against yours. the pair of you stood silently as you both worked on catching your breaths, reeling from the event that had just taken place.

“im—that was…” he struggled for words. “wow.”

you smiled in response as you moved back to meet his gaze, reveling in the sight that was him post-kiss. his hair was ruffled from your fingers raking through it, cheeks stained a pale red and lips puffy from the intensity of your lips against his.

the longer you stared at him, the more you felt your heart sink in a sudden realization.

he just did it because he was lonely, not because he actually liked you.

“alex i… i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that.” you tried to hide the hurt in your eyes, but were quite unsuccessful. “it was wrong of me to take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable like this. maybe it’s best if you jus—"

the words died on your tongue as his lips met yours once more, kissing you feverishly as though he was afraid to pull away. you couldn’t help but melt into the sudden unexpected kiss, moving your lips against his as your hands reached down to hold his.

he pulled away only to move your chin up towards his face, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“no please, don’t apologize.” he looked down sheepishly, cheeks flushing a deeper red. “i’ve kinda wanted to do that for a long time now. but i never made a move because i didn’t think you’d feel the same way. that’s why i—”

this time it was you who cut him off, bringing his lips back to yours and slowly moving the pair of you back to the center of the kitchen. you began swaying your hips once more as your arms wrapped around his neck, remaining wrapped up in his kiss as he brought his arms back down around the small of your back.

the two of you continued to dance late into the early morning hours, only stopping when the need for sleep became too overpowering.

despite everything that had happened throughout that night, there was one thing that was for sure.

he’d never get cheated on ever again.

#x reader #imagine #alex elmslie #imallexx #youtuber #fluff #youtuber imagine

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