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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓 | peter parker — chapter one.
READ IT ON... WATTPAD or AO3
───── Heather Fitzpatrick has no use for heroes, least of all Spider-Man—the poster boy for feel-good justice that never reaches Brooklyn’s forgotten streets. As Maverick, she takes matters into her own hands, doling out justice with fists first and questions later. Heroes chase headlines; Heather chases results. But when alien-tech weapons flood the city, turning New York into a war zone, even her brutal brand of vigilantism isn’t enough to hold back the tide.
Heather has no choice but to team up with the one hero she trusts the least. Spider-Man may represent everything she despises, but if they can’t find a way to work together, Brooklyn’s survival hangs by a thread. As enemies become allies, Heather is forced to confront the limits of her own code—and what it truly means to be a hero.
SNEAK PEEK
Heather had a sneaking suspicion that the universe treated her life like a science experiment—one of those middle school projects where the kid with zero regard for ethical boundaries decides to see how much caffeine a hamster can handle before it keels over. If there was a cosmic scientist, they were definitely prodding her limits just for kicks. And honestly? She was teetering dangerously close to the edge.
Exhibit A: She had slept through her alarm. Again. To be fair, patrolling the streets of Brooklyn at ungodly hours wasn’t exactly conducive to the eight-hours-a-night wellness influencers kept preaching about. Add in the ever-growing collection of bruises she’d been racking up lately, and yeah, her body had every reason to revolt. But still. Did it have to betray her this spectacularly? She only woke up when Valentina barged into her apartment, key in hand, with all the subtlety of a marching band practicing a halftime routine.
"Morning, sunshine!" Valentina chirped, framed in the doorway like a judgmental guardian angel with combat boots and an unshakeable sense of purpose. “Why am I not surprised you’re still in bed?”
Heather groaned, her voice muffled by the fortress of blankets she had cocooned herself in. "I’m conserving energy. You know, for life-threatening emergencies."
Valentina rolled her eyes, a gesture so exaggerated it practically made a sound. Within minutes, they fell into their usual rhythm—that unspoken choreography reserved for best friends and platonic soulmates. Valentina disappeared into Heather’s room to change into her school uniform while Heather dragged herself into the bathroom to confront the horror show waiting in the mirror.
And what a look it was.
Her reflection could’ve inspired a whole new subgenre of horror films: “Post-Apocalyptic Teen Vigilante, Part IV.” Tangled hair that had likely achieved sentience, dark circles that raccoons would envy, and the pièce de résistance—a vibrant purple bruise blooming around her left eye. Last night’s "light scuffle" (read: an all-out brawl with a guy who clearly mistook himself for Batman) had left her looking less like a competent crime-fighter and more like the before photo in a particularly grim makeover montage.
By the time Heather reemerged, half-dressed and wielding a tube of concealer that had been reduced to a stubby, battle-scarred warrior, Valentina was already in the kitchen. She was flipping pancakes like she’d been summoned to a Food Network competition, her movements precise and smugly efficient. The kitchen itself—a relic from Heather’s childhood—seemed to sigh under the weight of nostalgia. The tiny table, scarred with crayon marks and stray glitter from long-abandoned craft projects, had once seated a family of three. Back when her mom’s laughter still filled the room and her dad still cared about things like toaster ovens and being emotionally available.
Now, it was just Heather and Valentina. The honorary sister who lived next door and single-handedly kept Heather from spiraling into full-blown chaos.
Heather slid into the chair across from Valentina, whose pancakes were annoyingly perfect, golden discs that practically gleamed with smugness. She stabbed one with her fork, her stomach growling in betrayal. "You know," she said between bites, "you could’ve been a little less dramatic with the wake-up call."
And from that, the day spiraled. First, the toaster decided to stage its final rebellion, popping out charred crumbs instead of toast. Then Heather ran out of concealer halfway through trying to camouflage the bruise on her face, leaving her looking like she’d either been in a bar fight or had a very unfortunate run-in with a rogue paintball.
Cue a frantic pharmacy run for the cheapest concealer they could find (spoiler: it wasn’t great), a pit stop at the sandwich shop down the street (because the day was already bad enough without having to resort to school's lunch), and an emergency online order for a new toaster. By the time they finally made it to the subway station, they were running so late that “fashionably” didn’t even begin to cover it.
But of course, when a day starts badly, it has no choice but to double down.
READ THE REST OF THE FIRST CHAPTER OF START A RIOT ON WATTPAD OR AO3
© aiseuki | junophecy
#marvel x oc#marvel x reader#marvel scenario#marvel imagine#marvel fanfic#mcu scenario#mcu x oc#mcu x reader#mcu imagine#mcu fanfic#peter parker scenario#peter parker x oc#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfic
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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓 | peter parker — prologue.
READ IT ON... WATTPAD or AO3
───── Heather Fitzpatrick has no use for heroes, least of all Spider-Man—the poster boy for feel-good justice that never reaches Brooklyn’s forgotten streets. As Maverick, she takes matters into her own hands, doling out justice with fists first and questions later. Heroes chase headlines; Heather chases results. But when alien-tech weapons flood the city, turning New York into a war zone, even her brutal brand of vigilantism isn’t enough to hold back the tide.
Heather has no choice but to team up with the one hero she trusts the least. Spider-Man may represent everything she despises, but if they can’t find a way to work together, Brooklyn’s survival hangs by a thread. As enemies become allies, Heather is forced to confront the limits of her own code—and what it truly means to be a hero.
SNEAK PEEK
Heather’s fingers trembled as they brushed over the familiar constellation of cracks in the brick wall—a makeshift ladder leading to the hideout’s small window. Each crack, each jagged edge, felt like an old friend, guiding her upward under the faint glow of a slivered moon. The velvet sky stretched overhead, a reluctant witness to her nightly escapades.
She hauled herself up, every muscle in her body protesting. When she finally flopped through the window and landed in a graceless heap on the floor, her first thought was That wasn’t as bad as last time. Her second thought was a sharp reminder to breathe because, apparently, her lungs had decided to give up halfway through the landing.
The small room greeted her with the same quiet stillness it always did, a sharp contrast to the city outside. New York pulsed with its usual symphony of sirens, honking horns, and distant laughter, but here—between apartments 306 and 307—it was as if the world paused.
For Heather and Valentina, this forgotten janitor’s office wasn’t just a hideout. It was their sanctuary. Their fortress of solitude. Well, less fortress and more janky room with character.
The walls, painted a faded green that could only be described as “70s kitchen chic,” were lined with shelves filled with supplies: first-aid kits (half-empty, always), tools, and Valentina’s latest creations. The mini-fridge, proudly decorated with stickers from bodega freebies and one inexplicably angry-looking duck, hummed in the corner. Next to it sat Valentina’s inventions—a chaotic masterpiece of gloves, boots, gadgets, and, of course, the hellbots. Those tiny, slightly unhinged robots had once tried to set Heather’s shoelaces on fire in a “test run,” but now they were indispensable. Finally, there was a small run-down mattress that they managed to squeeze through the window a few years ago, when they realized that they were getting too old to sleep on the wooden floor.
“It took you long enough,” Valentina said from her perch by the window, arms crossed like she was auditioning for the role of Judgmental Greek Statue. Her dark curls framed her face, which wore its usual blend of exasperation and affection.
“Nice to see you too, Val.” Heather forced a grin, though her voice came out raspier than intended. She pushed herself up, only to immediately regret it as her ribs staged a protest. “I missed you too. Really.”
“You’re deflecting.” Valentina hopped down from the ledge, her sharp eyes already scanning Heather like she was a particularly concerning science experiment. “What happened this time? Don’t tell me—another mugging gone wrong? Or did you finally get into a fight with that feral cat on 23rd?”
“I’d win against the cat,” Heather shot back, trying to shrug off her leather jacket. It clung to her like a second skin—damp, sticky, and reeking of sweat and blood. “Probably. Tonight was... not my finest hour.”
Valentina didn’t respond right away. Instead, she paced the room, her curls bouncing with each step. Her silence was its own kind of lecture, the kind that made Heather want to shrink to the size of one of the hellbots. Finally, she spoke up “I’m getting sick of this pattern of yours, Hez,”
“Patterns are for knitting,” Heather muttered, wincing as she pulled her arm free of the jacket. The motion sent a sharp jolt of pain through her shoulder, and she sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.
“Patterns are also for crime statistics,” Valentina shot back, opening the mini-fridge with a dramatic flourish. She grabbed an ice pack and tossed it to Heather, who barely managed to catch it. “And guess what, Hez? You’re the common denominator.”
Heather pressed the ice pack to her bruised eye, sighing as the cold seeped through her skin. “You’re sounding suspiciously like our algebra teacher right now. Mr. Ferguson, is that you?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Valentina murmured.
Heather leaned against the wall, the rough brick scraping against her back. She liked the way it grounded her, as if reminding her she was still in one piece. Mostly. “I had it handled,” she said, though the words rang hollow even to her own ears.
“You always have it handled —until you don’t.” Valentina crossed her arms again, her expression softening just a fraction. “You’re running yourself ragged, Hez. You can’t keep going like this.”
“Someone has to,” Heather murmured.
“And that someone doesn’t have to be you,” Valentina countered, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re not a one-woman army. You have me. Use me.”
Heather tried for a laugh, but it came out as more of a pained wheeze. “Pretty sure you’d prefer I didn’t ‘use’ you. And let’s be real, Val—you’re more ‘genius inventor’ than ‘street brawler.’”
Valentina rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she knelt by the cluttered table, rifling through a box of bandages. “You’re lucky I’m a multitasker, then. Genius inventor and your personal medic? What would you even do without me?”
“Probably bleed out,” Heather admitted with a small smile.
“Definitely bleed out.” Valentina handed her a roll of gauze, the tension between them easing into something warmer. “But seriously, Hez. You’ve got to start being smarter about this. I can’t keep patching you up if you keep playing human piñata.”
Heather leaned her head back against the wall, letting her eyes drift shut. The adrenaline was long gone now, leaving her with nothing but exhaustion and a dull ache in every inch of her body. “I’ll try,” she said softly, though they both knew it was a lie.
Valentina didn’t press. Instead, she nudged Heather’s shoulder gently and said, “You owe me tacos for this.”
“Tacos and churros,” Heather promised, her lips curving into a tired grin.
“And a week off patrol.”
“Don’t push it.”
READ THE REST OF THE PROLOGUE OF START A RIOT ON WATTPAD OR AO3
© aiseuki | junophecy
#marvel x oc#marvel x reader#marvel scenario#marvel imagine#marvel fanfic#mcu scenario#mcu x reader#mcu x oc#mcu imagine#mcu fanfic#peter parker fanfic#peter parker imagine#peter parker scenario#peter parker x reader#peter parker x oc
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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓 | peter parker — masterlist
Heather’s knuckles throbbed beneath her gloves, but the two thugs sprawled at her feet weren’t getting up anytime soon. She adjusted her mask, wiping a streak of blood off her cheek, just as a familiar voice cut through the night. "Nice work," Spider-Man said, perched casually on the fire escape above her, his tone far too chipper for someone who hadn’t thrown a single punch. "You know, I’m starting to think you don’t actually need my help. Or anyone’s, for that matter." Heather glared up at him, her breath still coming fast. "You’re right. I don’t. So why don’t you stick to Queens, Spider-Boy, and leave the real problems to the rest of us?" "Spider-Man," he corrected, leaping down with infuriating ease. He landed mere feet from her, his head tilted in mock thought. "Although ‘Spider-Boy’ does have a nice ring to it. Very Peter Pan." Heather rolled her eyes. "Cute. Now get out of my way."
───── Heather Fitzpatrick has no use for heroes, least of all Spider-Man—the poster boy for feel-good justice that never reaches Brooklyn’s forgotten streets. As Maverick, she takes matters into her own hands, doling out justice with fists first and questions later. Heroes chase headlines; Heather chases results. But when alien-tech weapons flood the city, turning New York into a war zone, even her brutal brand of vigilantism isn’t enough to hold back the tide.
Heather has no choice but to team up with the one hero she trusts the least. Spider-Man may represent everything she despises, but if they can’t find a way to work together, Brooklyn’s survival hangs by a thread. As enemies become allies, Heather is forced to confront the limits of her own code—and what it truly means to be a hero.
tags & warnings. peter parker/original female character, enemies to lovers (but it's kinda one-sided. heather simply has a talent for holding grudges), black cat girl × golden retriever boy, good boy × bad girl, grumpy × sunshine, "touch him and i'll kill you", descriptions of violence, oc is a vigilante, daddy issues (who would've thought) & others.
READ IT ON... WATTPAD or AO3
──── (wattpad only) introduction
──── (wattpad only) act one: homecoming
──── prologue
──── chapter one
© aiseuki | junophecy
#marvel x oc#marvel x reader#marvel scenario#marvel imagine#marvel fanfic#mcu x oc#mcu x reader#mcu scenario#mcu imagine#mcu fanfic#avengers x oc#avengers x reader#avengers scenario#avengers imagine#avengers fanfic#peter parker x oc#peter parker x reader#peter parker scenario#peter parker imagine#peter parker fanfic
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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 | marvel — masterlist
"Okay, but hear me out," Raven said, hopping up to sit on the nearest table in the Sanctum's library, legs swinging like a bored kid. "What if—just what if—we didn’t do the whole save-the-world thing? We could, I don’t know, move to Bali, drink coconut water, and let the Avengers handle it. That’s kind of their thing, right?" Stephen didn’t look up from his spellbook, though his jaw tightened ever so slightly. "Raven, this isn’t a group project you can half-ass and charm your way through. This is reality—your reality. Either you face it, or you let the world burn." Raven tilted her head, smirking just enough to be infuriating. "You say that like it’s not an option." He finally looked up, fixing her with that piercing, disapproving stare she’d come to recognize as his default setting. "Do you ever take anything seriously?" "Of course," she replied, feigning offense. "I’m just saying, I don’t know if I’m exactly cut out for this 'hero' gig. My talents lie more in eyeliner and pompoms."
───── Raven Porter thought her biggest problem was keeping her double life as a cheerleading queen and secret seer under wraps. But when her visions show Spider-Man disintegrating and a cosmic war on the horizon, Raven’s world flips upside down. Enter Stephen Strange: arrogant, impatient, and definitely not her first choice for a mentor. Yet, he's the only one who understands the stakes—and why her visions might hold the key to saving the universe.
Thrust into a future she doesn’t want to see, Raven must decide how far she’s willing to go to rewrite fate. Because if she’s learned one thing, it’s that destiny doesn’t take no for an answer. And this time, the stakes aren’t just life and death—they’re everything.
tags & warnings. stephen strange & original female character (platonic), avengers & original female character (platonic), reluctant mentor turned even more reluctant father figure!stephen strange, oc and her powers are based on raven from that's so raven, romance in the background, descriptions of violence, hurt/comfort, small changes to canon, takes place from pre-infinity war to endgame, raven just wanted to survive high school and now she's the main puzzle piece in a cosmic war :(
READ IT ON... WATTPAD or AO3
──── (watpad only) introduction
──── (wattpad only) act one: kamar-taj
© aiseuki | junophecy
#marvel fanfic#marvel imagine#marvel scenario#marvel x reader#marvel x oc#mcu fanfic#mcu imagine#mcu scenario#mcu x reader#mcu x oc#avengers fanfic#avengers imagine#avengers scenario#avengers x reader#avengers x oc
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MARVEL.
— names of unpublished works are prone to change.
START A RIOT | peter parker
heather fitzpatrick has no use for heroes, least of all spider-man—the poster boy for feel-good justice that never reaches brooklyn’s forgotten streets. as maverick, she takes matters into her own hands, doling out justice with fists first and questions later. Heroes chase headlines; Heather chases results. but when alien-tech weapons flood the city, turning New York into a war zone, even her brutal brand of vigilantism isn’t enough to hold back the tide and she has no choice but to team up with the one hero she trusts the least.
THAT'S SO RAVEN | marvel
raven porter thought her biggest problem was keeping her double life as a cheerleading queen and secret seer under wraps. but when her visions show spider-man disintegrating and a cosmic war on the horizon, raven’s world flips upside down. enter stephen strange: arrogant, impatient, and definitely not her first choice for a mentor. yet, he's the only one who understands the stakes—and why her visions might hold the key to saving the universe.
© aiseuki | junophecy
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𝐆𝐔𝐘𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐆𝐄 | lewis hamilton — masterlist.
"You should go," Lewis murmured, but he didn’t move, didn’t step back. Charlotte tilted her head, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Tell me to go, and I will." His silence spoke louder than anything he could’ve said, and when she finally turned to leave, Lewis cursed under his breath and reached to grab her wrist. God, he was screwed.
───── Charlotte Russell, scandal-prone pop star and George Russell’s twin sister, is supposed to be laying low—touring the f1 world with her brother for a year, keeping a low profile, and avoiding drama. But then she meets Lewis Hamilton, her brother’s legendary (and off-limits) teammate, and suddenly staying out of trouble feels impossible.
tags & warnings. lewis hamilton/original female character; mutual pinning; brother's teammate; age gap (legal!! 26&39); off-limits never stopped anyone; bad decisions, good chemistry; pretending not to want each other (and failing miserably); one small mistake away from everything unraveling; formula one driver/pop star; 2024 season; sexual content & others.
READ IT ON... WATTPAD or AO3
──── coming soon!
© aiseuki | junophecy
#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 oc#formula 1 scenario#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula one fanfic#formula one fic#formula one scenario#formula one oc#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x oc#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton scenario#lewis hamilton imagine
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𝗜𝗙 𝗜 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗡 (𝗜'𝗗 𝗕𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗡) | franco colapinto — masterlist.
“Rain tomorrow,” Franco remarked as they both studied the weather forecast on a shared screen. “Great,” Talia said without looking at him. “I can’t wait to see you spin out in the second sector. Should be thrilling for the fans.” “I don’t spin,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Oh, my mistake,” she said airily. “It’s just the footage from free practice looked awfully similar to a washing machine on rinse cycle.”
───── Reserve driver Talia Sinclair was supposed to be next in line for the Williams seat—until Franco Colapinto swooped in with his golden-boy grin and rookie charm. Determined to channel her frustration into something productive (read: making Franco’s life as miserable as possible), Talia quickly finds herself tangled in a rivalry that’s as heated as it is… confusing. Because somewhere between the pit lane spats and side-eye exchanges, their clashes start to feel a little too much like chemistry.
tags & warnings. franco colapinto/original female character; (petty) enemies to lovers; stubborn idiots in love; forced proximity; he’s a disaster, she’s a disaster, they’re a disaster together; extreme sarcasm as love language; williams slander; eventual sexual content; talks about sexism in motorsport; motorsport related injuries & others.
READ IT ON... WATTPAD or AO3
──── coming soon!
© aiseuki | junophecy
#formula 1 scenario#formula 1 oc#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one oc#formula one scenario#formula one fic#formula one fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#franco colapinto scenario#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fic#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x oc
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FORMULA ONE
— names of unpublished works are prone to change.
IF I WAS A MAN (I'D BE THE MAN) | franco colapinto
when reserve driver talia sinclair gets passed over for the williams seat by rookie sensation franco colapinto, she decides to channel her heartbreak into a new hobby: making his life hell— at least, until their fiery clashes start to feel a little too much like sparks.
GUYS MY AGE | lewis hamilton
charlotte russell, scandal-prone pop star and george russell’s twin sister, is supposed to be laying low—touring the f1 world with george for a year, keeping a low profile, and avoiding drama. but then she meets lewis hamilton, her brother’s legendary (and off-limits) teammate, and suddenly staying out of trouble feels impossible.
© aiseuki | junophecy
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masterlist
includes tumblr-centric works as well as stories published elsewhere. 'others' refer to sparce works on several different fandoms. if a work is listed but not published, it means it is currently in the draft stage.
formula one.
haikyuu.
marvel.
my hero academia.
others.
© AISEUKI
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guidelines.
⁰¹ this is a multifandom sfw & nsfw writing blog. please, be mindful of the content you consume. writing is mainly on a female perspective since it is what comes naturally to me.
⁰² do not interect or follow if you can not have human decency. homophobia, racism, xenophobia, pedophilia & similar will not be accepted.
⁰³ i do not accept requests, but my askbox is always open for suggestions, brainrots, or thoughts. don't be shy and pop up sometime <3
⁰⁴ fics with multiple chapters are usually original character/canon. it's simply what i like writing the most and what i am more comfortable with. feel free to read it as !reader, but please, do not comment things like "i am not [insert personality trait]", "i don't have [insert physical trait]". those stories are written with a clear original character in mind, so if you do not enjoy it, it's better to ignore.
© AISEUKI
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about me.
alice. brazil. 20. she/her
main (writing) fandoms | marvel, formula one, my hero academia, haikyuu, criminal minds, harry potter, percy jackson, dc & others.
others | pop music, disney movies, natgeo documentaries, cooking competitions, asian dramas, k-pop, one piece (live action), kuroko no basket & others.
© AISEUKI
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BRING THE LIGHT OF A DYING STORM
⁰¹ about me ⁰² guidelines ⁰³ m.list ⁰⁴ wattpad ⁰⁵ ao3
main fandoms | marvel, formula one, my hero academia, haikyuu.
© AISEUKI & JUNOPHECY | do not copy, translate or repost any work created on this blog, aiseuki on wattpad or junophecy on ao3.
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