#silvermittt

[citadelcitizen7]

Art: Silvermittt

Inspired by this image I wrote my first smut 3 part piece into my Mass Effect/Garrus Romance Novel. With 70K+ words... I think thats fair to say.

So for all my Garrus lovers, for your pleasure;

Fanfiction: Beyond Star Crossed Relays

1. THRESHOLD

2. THRESHOLD Part 2

3. LINGER

Shout out to @lilmissnatcat24 for her work that inspired mine. Amazing ME reads!

[dbhedits]

@silvermittt replied to your photo

this is just a crappily cropped image snagged off Rebelflet's art page, reposted without credit or thought.

Hi! Thanks for letting me know. I’ve deleted this post and reblogged comic where the art is originally from

[doomburgerdoodles]

silvermittt replied to your post “It always takes me a while to warm up to the idea of aus in a fandom...”

Totally agreed, I will never understand it.

Yeah I feel that XD It takes me so long I end up not even ever warming up to it in most fandoms. Only the ones I’m in for the long haul X’D As long as the characterization is there anyway. If it’s not I don’t get it at all DX

[dontcareajot]

There’s blood dripping down his arm and splattered across his chest. His sword is coated in it, shining and vivid red. There are entrails under his boot and brain matter hidden away in the creases of his gloves.

There are bodies at his feet. He can’t really remember how they got there. All he remembers is seeing Peter at their mercy, bloody and bruised with the edge of a knife poised at his throat. Everything after that is black and white and nothing solid. There was just that- them threatening Peter- and then this, bodies at his feet.

Peter is on his hands and knees, now, right where he happened to fall when Wade gutted the men holding him. His suit is torn across his chest and his legs. His mask is gone- Wade isn’t sure when he took it off but he wishes he hadn’t. He’s looking up at Wade with an expression of utter betrayal. It’s the look of someone both furious and heartbroken and it’s terrible.

Wade throws his sword away, discards it as though it’s burning him. He drops to his knees in front of Peter, reaches out to touch him- and stops when Peter flinches.

“How could you?” Peter breathes, looking at the carnage around them. There’s enough blood on the walls to paint a mural. The entire room reeks of the stuff. “After everything… How could you?”

Wade’s mouth works but he isn’t sure what to say. He’s used to Peter leaving him speechless but not like this.

He touches the side of Peter’s head, where blood has matted his hair. This time Peter lets him. “You’re hurt,” he manages, finally. Peter closes his eyes.

“I- I can’t,” he says, and sits back, putting distance between them. “I can’t do this, Wade. I told you- I told you this was your last chance. You promised…” He takes a deep breath. There’s a thin sheen of sweat over his skin and he hasn’t stopped shaking. When he opens his eyes again he look at Wade like he doesn’t know him. Like Wade is a stranger. Somehow that’s even worse than the expression he wore before. “You’re a monster. I thought I could change you, could make you better- but you won’t change. Not for me, not for anyone.”

“Change…?” The word tastes bitter on Wade’s tongue. He gestures at the bodies around them. “I’d kill for you. Isn’t that enough?”

Peter’s lips are a thin line. All the color is drained out of him, leaving him unearthly pale. He shakes his head, just once.

Wade abruptly stands. “Fuck you,” he says, spitting venom mostly on reflex. Ruining things before Peter can declare them ruined. “Fuck you and your fucking self-righteousness. I just saved your goddamned life and you wanna- you wanna fucking-“

“It’s over,” Peter says, talking right over him. “Wade, it’s over.”

“You better fucking mean it this time,” Wade snaps. “Because I’m not coming back.”

“So don’t,” Peter says, and something in his tone of voice tells Wade things are different this time. That this time Peter really means it. That Wade finally pushed him too far, screwed up too monumentally. That Peter has finally come to his senses.

Wade knew it was too good to be true. He knew they’d never last.

Doesn’t stop it from hurting.

[dontcareajot]

Living with Peter feels a lot like trying to balance the point of a needle on the edge of a knife. Or, not just living with Peter but knowing him. From day one they’ve had this bizarre, bi-polar relationship that feels like it could fall at any second into either hatred or… something else. Something better but all-consuming. Wade lives in constant fear of tipping the balance one way or the other. He’s been around the block a few times- enough to know that everything ends, and nothing ends well. Not for him, anyway.

Usually it’s easy to keep Peter at arms length. They don’t see a lot of each other, since they keep almost polar opposite schedules. Wade does his thing at night, Peter does his student thing during the day and if, by some happy accident, they do find themselves spending time together, all Wade has to do is remind himself what happens to the people he gets attached to.

Peter is brusque most of the time, anyway. Distant. That helps. It allows Wade to entertain the idea that all of this is one-sided, that none of it matters because Peter would never have him.

But then sometimes… Sometimes Peter pulls shit like this. Shit like falling asleep in Wade’s bed, dressed in Wade’s hoodie.

This isn’t the first time Wade has come home to find Peter asleep in his room. Usually he only does it if Wade’s been gone for a few days in a row and then he wakes up just long enough to see for himself that Wade is okay and trudges groggily back to his own room, yawning and rubbing at his eyes as he goes. The hoodie is new, though. New and… weird. It practically swallows him. The sleeves drape down over his hands. Wade is suddenly having trouble breathing.

Maybe Peter can sense Wade staring at him because he starts to stir, shifting around and then opening his eyes and Wade fully expects him to make a run for it but instead he just smiles, sleepy and rumpled and lovely. “There you are,” he says, voice rough. He doesn’t seem in any hurry to leave.

“Here I am,” Wade manages, his own voice rough but probably for different reasons. He’s practically whispering, mimicking Peter’s own middle-of-the-night volume. “You’re wearing my hoodie.”

“Mm,” Peter agrees, burrowing further into it. “Smells like you.”

Wade approaches the bed like he would a wild animal. When Peter doesn’t spook, but instead just keeps watching him, eyes half-lidded and smile content, Wade carefully takes a seat on the edge. The mattress dips under his weight. “Peter, I smell like shit.”

“Nooo,” Peter argues, with all the grace of a tired toddler. “You smell like you.” He makes grabby hands in the direction of Wade’s face. “Take the mask off,” he complains. “Wanna see you.”

Wade only hesitates for a second. It’s nothing Peter hasn’t seen before. He puts the mask aside, along with his belt and gloves.

“Better,” Peter decides, gaze flicking over Wade’s features. No one else looks at Wade like this. Like they don’t even see the scars. Or, no- like they see them but don’t dislike them.

It’s only when Peter actually reaches out to take his arm, pulling him down, that Wade lays beside him. Peter curls into him, subtly but unmistakably. His hair is all over the place, mashed down on one side and sticking up on the other, and his cheeks are pink and there are circles under his eyes and he looks ridiculous in Wade’s oversized hoodie but- But. He’s also, somehow, the most beautiful thing Wade has ever seen. He always is. Even on bad days. On days when Peter is preoccupied and reserved. On days when they’re arguing over something stupid and Wade wonders if the balance will finally tip in the favor of hatred. Even on days when Wade is trying to pretend like Peter is less than this to him.

Peter closes his eyes. He keeps his hand on Wade and that’s how Wade falls asleep, with Peter holding onto him.

He expects to wake up alone. He always wakes up alone. Instead, he wakes up with Peter in his arms, playing little spoon, their legs tangled together under the sheets. Sunlight is streaming in through the gap in the curtains, painting the room in gold.

“Peter- baby boy,” Wade stage-whispers, trying to disentangle before Peter can fully wake up and realize where he is. But Peter twines their finger together over his own chest, holding Wade’s arms wrapped around him.

“Few more minutes,” he mumbles.

Wade has always been bad at denying Peter anything, but he’s powerless to deny him this.

He settles back in, pulls Peter to his chest, and tries not to hope for more mornings like this one.

[teekettle]

A Hard Place

Summary:

When Peter comes to, there’s a weight pressing against his chest. A very heavy, warm, slightly moist weight.

“Don’t get me wrong,” the weight says, “that is indeed a gun in my pocket, but I’m still happy to see you.”

Or the one where Spider-Man and Deadpool are trapped in a collapsed warehouse together and hi-jinks ensue.

Written for @silvermittt for the @spideypoolexchange. Posted on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6129151

[li-izumi]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LI!!!!! :D

Thank you!!! :)

[capsing]

Let me just take a moment and make you totally regret ever showing me any kindness and throw "Body Language" at you for the fic meme ask thingy, because seriously, it's in my top three for all time favorite fics, and it's not even a published, finished official story. Ok here we go! 3, 5, 6, 9, 12, 13. I must have these answers. I must. I will take my question off the air if the situation dictates more tact than I'm showing now. (I will NEVER stop thinking about this fic, You've cursed me.)

[♡♡♡ GOSH THANK YOU SO MUCH ;_; ♡♡♡☆*。 ]

3. What’s your favorite line of narration?

‘ WhenPeter Parker hears the word ‘magic’ the first thing that comes to his mind is‘trouble’ (unless it’s Billy, because Billy’s a cool guy). ‘

[I was just happy for an excuse to mention Billy!]

5. What part was hardest to write?

Technically not yet written, but the fighting scene. Fights are difficult to write; I’m not much of an action-movie enthusiastic, so I don’t feel like my fights are overly sophisticated. They’re not very interesting the write, either, unless it’s one-on-one which contributes to character development. I usually put writing fighting scenes to the end (and write ‘Pew Pew Pew’ instead).

6. What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

It’s the first to deal with more plausible (considering Marvel Universes) anxieties, some more familiar and relatable. I think it’s the first one I get to explore “Peter Parker: When Your Psychological Coping Mechanisms Overload”. Humor can only get you so far. It’s not like in ‘Bishgada’ or ‘That’s What He Said’ because it’s not anxiety as a result of something Peter is responsible for or a decision he took, other than ‘Being Spider-Man’.

9. Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

I think so? I think I didn’t back them up… and I didn’t read the other version for a long time so I don’t remember. I wrote the original souce on hard copies so sometimes I wrote scenes I’d have to merge together later. But the general structure and events are the same. 

12. What do you like least about this fic?

Then it’s not yet done and that it made me write a sequel before even finishing it. I need to be in a specific state-of-mind in order to continue it, and it’s not particularly cheery, so I’m putting it off. 

I also don’t want the story to come across as “being deaf/blind is the worst possible thing ever”. 

13. What music did you listen to/what should the readers listen to?

YES YES YES BEST QUESTION YESSSSssss

[Inspiration] ☆ [Full Ver.] ☆[Atmosphere]☆ [Wade] ☆[Peter]

THANK YOU!! :D ♥