Omg hello! So I am obsessed with Vertin and CANNOT find anything on her. Could you write an angsty fic between her and the reader? Like something where she and the reader obviously want something to develop between eachother, but refuse to go through with it for whatever reason? If not that's completely alright, I still adore your works.
Brave The Storm
Recipe: Angst, Hurt no comfort, Romantic pining, GN!reader, Reader x Vertin, Projecting myself onto Vertin by making her neurodivergent, v short v sad
WC: 987
AC: Wrote this in the ideal fanfiction writing setting. Home alone, on the couch, with my dog beside me, a cup of warm coffee on the table. I hope this isn't too short for you anon! I had run writing Vertin!
“Timekeeper?” You call, timidly from the doorway. You’ve never ventured into the Timekeeper’s office before, though few have. To your understanding, it was Vertin’s secret place, where she stowed herself away after every storm. Usually, she’d emerge a day later, ready to lead your team forward. But now was different. She hadn’t left the office in days, and everyone was beginning to grow worried. Restless without any commands from her.
“Come in.” You hear her voice call from the other side. Your breath catches in your throat. You know that you’re about to see another side to Vertin, one that she’s shown very few people. Hesitantly, you twist the doorknob, and let yourself in.
“Apologies for the mess.” Vertin says, shuffling through a box of files. She looks distraught, her eyes heavy with bags and her lips scratched to high hell. Her hair is pulled back into a haphazardly done ponytail, which hangs low. Stray hairs cover her face, it’s clear that she hasn’t fixed it in a while. It occurs to you then that you’ve never seen Vertin with her hair down. You hadn’t considered the true length of her hair, but with it unfurled from it’s bun, you see that it’s quite long. “I wasn’t expecting a guest.” She continues, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“No, no, you’re fine.” You shake your head lightly. You can excuse the mess. It’s the work of a genius after all. Far be it from you to criticize. “I brought you something to eat.” You walk up beside her, placing the small tray of toast and water down beside her. It wasn’t the healthiest meal, but Sonetto had mentioned something about it being safe food. You knew better than to doubt her knowledge on the Timekeeper.
“Thank you.” Vertin responded, bringing her hand up to her lip again. Absent-mindedly, she scratches at it, picking away another layer of skin.
Without thinking, you move your hand to hers, gently pushing it away from her face. Vertin’s eyes widen and look to you, shocked by this development. You notice the slightest blush on her cheeks.
“Sorry!” You apologize quickly, glancing away. “I just… You shouldn’t pick at your skin, Timekeeper. It’s not good for you.”
“Vertin.” She mutters. “Please, call me Vertin.” She looks up to you with pleading eyes. You swallow harshly.
“Vertin.” You correct, though the word feels wrong in your mouth, ”You shouldn’t pick at your lip. You could damage your skin.”
“I know.” Vertin sighs. “It’s a bad habit, I’ve been doing it since I was a child. It’s difficult to quit though. I feel like it’s simply been built into me.” Her eyes fall back to her hands, to the box she was looking through.
You kneel next to her, peering into the box. You see the headlines of newspapers pop out in between the manilla folders. You recognize the dates, as times in the distant future. Vertin places the newest neatly inside.
“The creator of the Storm must have a twisted sense of humor.” She says, suddenly. “I can bring as many items as I want with me into my suitcase… Yet the people I try to save stay lost forever.” Her voice is soft, fragile. As if she could shatter at any moment.
You spend a second in silence, attempting to find some hopeful words. “You’ve saved many people, Vertin.” You whisper back, scared that if you’re too loud, she’d break. “Regulus, Sotheby,” You take in a breath, holding it in your chest for a moment,”Me.”
“You?” Vertin asks, her gaze returning to you. “I don’t think you needed saving. You’re a capable fighter, you’re brave, you have a brilliant mind, you’re…” Her voice trails off, the slight blush returning to her cheeks.
Silence falls between you once again. Hesitantly, you reach over, placing your hand over hers. She flinches initially, then calms, her shoulders falling and her breathing slowing. You feel your heart race in your chest at the contact. Her hand is cold, begging to be warmed.
“The reason I keep fighting,” You begin, feeling your throat close up at the honesty, “The reason I’m so brave, and I try to be so smart, is because I want to make you happy. The Storm, it took so much from me. I wouldn’t have the strength to go on if you weren’t in my life. You are my purpose, Vertin.”
“[Y/N]...” Vertin chokes on the word, her eyes beginning to tear.
“Vertin, I-”
“Don’t say it.” She interrupts, holding a finger to your lips. “Please, don’t say it.” Tears are falling quick now, rapid succession down her face. “I can’t take it. I can’t stand it.”
“Why?” You plea, squeezing her hand slightly. “Just let me in, Vertin. Let me help you. We can brave the Storm together!”
“No.” Vertin shakes her head rapidly, pulling away from your touch. “You can’t. I can’t. It’s too much. I’ve lost so much over such a short period of time. Everything I gain turns to sand. I can’t let it happen again. Not to such a great extent.”
“I won’t leave you!” You beg.
“You don’t know that!” Vertin shouts, her eyes bloodshot.
“Vertin…” You whisper, your shoulders falling in defeat. It’s true. You don’t know what’ll happen next time the Storm hits, or when the next attack happens. Though you want to assure Vertin you’ll be by her side through it all, you know that it’ll be an empty promise. Yet empty promises are all you’re able to provide.
“Please.” Vertin sobs, her hands trembling. “Leave me be.”
You open your mouth to protest, but then she looks at you, and it sends a dagger straight through your heart. Her trembling lip, her fragile expression. You fear making things worse.
You stand, and make your way to the door.
“Goodnight, Vertin.” You tell her, before you leave. “Take care of yourself.”
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