#And then we get hit with betrayal. It's bitter. It hurts. And you can feel that in the song too

[shima-draws]

JVKE’s this is what ___ feels like album has me feeling some sort of way

[rynwritesreid]

Mind games~Spencer Reid

Chapter three~ nothing’s new

Chapter summary: The FBI gives you time off, allowing you time to heal after what happened to you. But after news spreads, someone from your past contacts you, making old wounds resurface, making you turn to none other than Spencer Reid.

Chapter warnings: Talks about the BDSM community and BDSM dynamics. Talks of fainting. Submissive reader and dominant Spencer. Alcohol consumption. Mentions of what happened to you in the previous chapter but nothing serious. Reader cries but Spencer comforts her. Mentions of emotional wounds from previous relationships.

A/N: I might start releasing these every week instead of every other week, but I am not sure. I also hope this is a good description of what BDSM and specifically D/S relationships are like, I know that community gets a lot of really bad stories written about them.

~mind game’s masterlist~

~join the mind games taglist~

Everyone on the team had been looking after you, making sure you were okay. Spencer, however, had been a godsend. He would send you texts throughout the day, even though the man hated technology. He had opened up to you about what he had been through, maybe in hopes of you opening up, or maybe he just wanted to show you he knew how you were feeling. But you didn’t really care, you were just happy that he was no longer horrible towards you.

 

You did want to open to Spencer, to everyone, and let them know what you had seen, but you just couldn’t. And the fact that people from academy had been texting you, telling you they had heard what happened and that they couldn’t imagine how you felt, just made it worse.

It had also made it back to your ex-boyfriend, who after 1 and a half years of ignoring your texts, had decided to call you. Part of you wanted to ignore the call, to push away any connection to the past. But another part of you was curious about what he had to say after all this time.

 

Taking a deep breath, you answered the call. His voice sounded distant and strained as he spoke, "Hey... I heard about what happened. I'm so sorry."

 

The sincerity in his tone surprised you, and for a moment, you were reminded of why you had loved him in the first place. But then reality set in, reminding you of the pain and heartbreak he had caused.

 

"I appreciate your sympathy," you replied coolly, trying to maintain a sense of composure. "But I'm doing my best to move forward."

 

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could almost hear him searching for the right words.

 

"I understand if you don't want to hear from me anymore," he finally said, his voice filled with regret. "I just wanted you to know that I've changed. I've done a lot of soul-searching and therapy since we broke up. I wish I could have been there for you when you needed me."

 

Your grip on the phone tightened as his words struck a chord within you. The longing for closure and understanding warred with the pain and bitterness that still lingered from your past.

 

"It's too late now," you replied, your voice laced with a mixture of anger and sadness. "You had your chance, and you blew it."

 

There was silence on the other end, and you could almost picture him taking in a deep breath before speaking again.

 

"You're right," he said quietly. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I hope that someday, maybe, you can find it in your heart to let go of the hurt I caused."

 

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words hit you like a wave crashing onto the shore. The pain of his betrayal resurfaced, threatening to engulf you once again. Part of you wanted to believe in his sincerity, to believe that people could change. But another part of you feared being hurt all over again.

 

"I don't know if I can ever forgive you," you managed to say, your voice trembling with emotion. You didn’t care what he had to say anymore, so you just hung up.

 

You couldn’t hold back any more and you just began to sob. You picked up your phone and decided to call Spencer, it probably would have been smarter to call one of the girls, Spencer wasn’t the only one who understood what you had gone through, but Spencer was the only one who could truly understand you.

 

As the phone rang, your tears continued to flow, blurring your vision and making it difficult to see. The weight of your emotions felt like an anchor dragging you down into a sea of despair. Each ring seemed to echo in the cavernous void of loneliness that had enveloped you.

 

Finally, Spencer's voice broke through the haze of your anguish. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his tone filled with concern.

 

You tried to steady your voice, but it came out choked with sobs. "Spencer," you managed to utter between gasps for air. "I... I need you."

 

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, and then Spencer's voice softened with understanding. "I'm here for you," he said gently. "Take all the time you need, and when you're ready, I'll be right by your side."

 

“I’m ready now Spencer, please.” In that moment, you could hear the urgency in your own voice, the desperation for comfort and solace. The pain of your past relationship had resurfaced, triggering a deep yearning for someone who truly understood you. And Spencer, with his unwavering support and compassion, was the only person who could provide that.

 

Silence lingered on the other end of the line, and you wondered if perhaps you had overwhelmed him with your sudden vulnerability. But just as doubt began to creep in, Spencer's voice filled the void once again.

 

"I'm on my way," he said firmly, his words laced with determination. "Stay where you are. I'll be there as soon as I can."

 

Relief washed over you like a gentle tide, easing some of the turmoil in your heart. You trusted Spencer implicitly; his presence was a balm to your wounded soul.

 

Spencer rushed into Hotch’s office, telling him that you needed someone with you right now, and that he will be back to work as soon as he can be.

 

And Spencer, a man who was always true to his word, was at your door within 20 minutes.

 

You opened the door, your tear-streaked face betraying the pain you had been holding inside. Spencer took one look at you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest, brought a sense of security that you hadn't felt in a long time.

 

"I'm here," he whispered softly into your ear, his voice filled with genuine concern. "You're not alone anymore."

 

You clung to him, seeking solace in his presence, as he led you to the couch and sat down beside you. “You don't have to face this pain by yourself”, his voice was calming, “everyone on the team loves you, they all would be here in a heartbeat for you. I mean they are discussing what to get you for when you come back to work.”

 

You let out a weak laugh, the first sign of a smile since the whole ordeal began. It was comforting to know that you had a support system, a group of people who truly cared about you.

 

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I don't know where I would be without all of you."

 

Spencer's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes filled with genuine compassion. "You're stronger than you think," he assured you softly. "And we'll be right here with you every step of the way."

 

In that moment, as you sat there with Spencer by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope. The pain and heartache were still present, but now they were tempered by the love and support surrounding you.

 

“Would you like to talk about what happened, or is there something else on your mind?”

 

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready to relive the details of the past, but then you realized that Spencer was right. It was time to face what had happened and start the healing process.

 

Taking a deep breath, you began to share your story. The words tumbled out, sometimes in a rush, other times choked with emotion. Spencer listened attentively, never interrupting or judging. He offered gentle words of encouragement, his presence a constant reminder that you were not alone.

 

As you recounted the painful memories, it felt like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. Each word spoken was an act of defiance against the pain that had consumed you for so long. And with each passing minute, you felt a little bit stronger.

 

When you finally finished, there was a silence that hung in the air, as if the weight of your story needed a moment to settle in. Spencer broke the stillness with a soft sigh.

 

"I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, “you should never have had to have gone through that. He will rot in prison. And that ex of yours, he did not deserve you.”

 

You nodded, grateful for Spencer's unwavering support and understanding. His words were like a soothing balm to your wounded soul, validating the pain you had endured. Your heart ached with the realization that you had been in a toxic relationship, but knowing that you were no longer alone gave you the strength to move forward.

 

"Thank you, Spencer," you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes once again. "I don't know how I would have made it through this without you."

 

Spencer's gaze softened, his hand gently wiping away your tears. "You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "Being there for you is what friends do. We look out for each other."

 

The word "friends" lingered in the air, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between you and Spencer. The connection you shared felt deeper than mere friendship, but you were both still healing from past wounds. It was too soon to explore those feelings, and not long ago, Spencer had shown his dislike for you.

 

*

 

After about two weeks, you were back in the bullpen. Garcia had decorated your desk, telling you that this always make her feel better and she thought it would do the same to you, JJ and Emily informed you on all the gossip you had missed, Hotch had gone full dad mode on you, making sure you were okay, Rossi had invited you over to his for a private cooking lesson, Morgan had told you all the pranks he had pulled on Spencer. Spencer on the other hand seemed to keep his distance, he had smiled at you, but ever since that day he had come over something seemed to have changed.

 

You couldn't put your finger on it, but there was a palpable shift in the dynamics between you and Spencer. He was still kind and supportive, but there was a subtle hesitancy in his interactions with you. It was as if he was holding back, as if there were unresolved emotions swirling beneath the surface.

 

You desperately wanted to address it, to talk to Spencer about what had transpired between you, but you feared that doing so might jeopardize the fragile bond you had built. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if he saw you as nothing more than a friend and confidant?

 

You pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the work at hand. The team had a new case, one that required their full attention. As you discussed the details with your teammates, you noticed Spencer's gaze linger on you for a moment longer than necessary. It was a fleeting look, but enough to make your heart skip a beat.

 

Throughout the day, you found yourself stealing glances at Spencer whenever you could. There was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a connection that had grown stronger during your time of need. But you both had been through so much already, and neither of you wanted to rush into anything without being sure.

 

As the case progressed, Spencer's presence beside you became more prominent. He would stand just a little too close, his hand brushing against yours as he passed you a file or offered his insights. It was subtle, but it spoke volumes about what he was feeling.

 

Even JJ had commented on it, asking if something was going on between the two of you, but you assured her nothing was going on. But the truth was, you weren't quite sure how to define whatever it was that was happening between you and Spencer.

 

*

 

After the case was over, the team decided to go out for celebratory drinks. This was the first time you had gone out since what had happened to you. You were sat in-between JJ and Garcia, they were both talking about their funniest sex stories and you couldn't help but laugh along with them, grateful for the distraction from your own thoughts. Across the table, Spencer was engaged in a lively conversation with Rossi and Morgan, his laughter ringing out in the crowded bar.

 

You don’t know what compelled you, but you decided to share yours, and you were almost certain Spencer couldn’t hear you.

 

“If you want to mine”, you paused, allowing the girls to give you their full attention, “I told my ex that I was into BDSM and he thought that just meant me calling him daddy. So, when I told him what I was really into, he nearly fainted. It was definitely an interesting and eye-opening experience." The girls burst into laughter, their faces turning red from the combination of alcohol and amusement.

 

The sound caught Spencer's attention, his ears perking up as he turned his head towards you. His eyes locked with yours, and you could've sworn there was a flicker of interest in them.

 

"Wait, what did I miss?" he asked, leaning closer to catch the tail end of the conversation.

 

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you glanced at the girls. JJ nudged you playfully, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

 

"Oh, Y/N's just regaling us with her kinky adventures," Garcia chimed in with a teasing smirk.

 

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and surprise evident on his face. "Is that so?" he asked, trying to hide a smile.

 

You shifted in your seat, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. The playful conversation seemed to have opened a door, allowing for a light-hearted connection between you and Spencer. You took a deep breath, deciding to seize the moment.

 

"Yeah, well, it was definitely an experience," you replied, matching his playful tone. "But let's just say, I've learned my lesson about dating vanilla guys."

 

Spencer chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I can assure you, I'm far from vanilla," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

 

JJ and Garcia exchanged knowing glances, silently urging you to take the plunge. They had seen the connection between you and Spencer long before either of you had acknowledged it, and they were more than ready to play matchmakers.

 

"So," Garcia interjected with a sly grin, "are we going to sit here and talk about kinks all night, or are you two going to finally address the elephant in the room?"

 

“I-erm what elephant?” you asked, there was hint of confusion in your voice.

 

“Oh, come on.” JJ stated “Even when Spencer hated you, he couldn’t take his eyes of you.”

 

Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly, his gaze shifting nervously between you and JJ. You could see the internal battle raging within him, the fear of rejection warring with his desire for something more.

 

Finally, Spencer took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to speak. "I... I have to admit," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even when I claimed to dislike you, I couldn't deny the pull I felt towards you. You're intelligent, compassionate, and..." He trailed off, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reciprocation.

 

A warm smile spread across your face as you reached across the table, gently placing your hand on top of Spencer's. "And what?" you prompted softly.

 

He let out a shaky laugh, his fingers intertwining with yours. "And beautiful," he finished, his voice filled with sincerity.

 

JJ and Garcia exchanged triumphant glances as their matchmaking efforts paid off.

 

“You know, I think it’s time you two go home, so you can discuss this somewhere Hotch can’t hear you.” Emily said in a hushed tone.

 

You and Spencer laughed, realizing that your friends were right. It was time to have a more private conversation about the growing feelings between you. As the night came to an end, you and Spencer found yourselves outside the bar, away from prying ears.

 

The air was crisp, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees. You leaned against the side of the building, facing Spencer who stood only a few feet away. There was a comfortable silence between you as you both took a moment to collect your thoughts.

 

Finally, Spencer spoke up, his voice filled with vulnerability. "I never meant to push you away before. I was scared...scared of opening myself up to someone, scared of getting hurt. But seeing what you went through, how strong you were...it made me realize how much I care about you."

 

Your heart swelled at his words, grateful for his honesty. "Spencer, I understand why you acted the way you did. We've all been hurt before, and we all have our own ways of protecting ourselves," you replied softly. "But I want you to know that I care about you too, and I'm willing to take the risk if it means we can be together."

 

Spencer's eyes met yours, filled with a mix of relief and hope. "You would really give us a chance?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

A gentle smile tugged at your lips as you stepped closer to him. "Yes, Spencer, I would. I would give us a chance," you confirmed, your voice filled with certainty. "Because the truth is, Spencer, I've been falling for you ever since the first case I worked.”

 

Spencer's eyes widened, surprise mingling with joy. "Really? Even when I was being an insufferable jerk?"

 

You chuckled softly. "Especially then," you admitted. “But I do have to know what you mean when you say your far from vanilla.”

 

Spencer blushed, his cheeks turning a shade of crimson. "Well," he stammered, "I've always had a... deep fascination with role-playing scenarios and exploring different power dynamics." He paused, his gaze searching yours for any sign of judgment or discomfort. “And I can say I enjoy being the dominant one more.”

 

“Is that so? What have been your favourite scene you’ve done so far?”

 

Spencer cleared his throat, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "Well, one of my favourite scenes involved a classic teacher-student dynamic," he confessed, his voice laced with excitement. "I got to play the strict professor, and she was my eager and naughty student."

 

Your eyebrows raised in surprise and curiosity. "Oh? And how did that play out?"

 

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Let's just say there were some detentions and extra credit assignments involved," he replied coyly. "It was all about the power play and the thrill of breaking the rules within the safety of our consensual role-playing."

 

He then once again looked to see if you were unconformable. “What about you? What do you enjoy.” He asked.

“I, erm- well I enjoy being the submissive one. I was in a dynamic relationship with someone, and they gave me a necklace to wear, to show I belonged to them. They used to tell me what outfits I could wear when going out.”

 

Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Did you enjoy the feeling of submission, or was it more about the trust and surrender that came with it?" he asked gently, his voice filled with genuine interest.

 

You took a moment to consider his question before answering honestly. "It was a combination of both," you replied, your voice soft but unwavering. "There was something incredibly liberating about giving up control and trusting someone else to take care of me. It allowed me to let go of my responsibilities and just be in the moment."

 

Spencer nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he took in your words. "I understand," he said quietly. "The power dynamics in BDSM can be incredibly nuanced and fulfilling when both parties are open and communicative about their desires and boundaries."

 

"Would you ever consider exploring that dynamic with me?" you asked cautiously, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. “I mean, I would still be the submissive one.”

 

Spencer’s eyes softened, filled with warmth and reassurance. He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "I would be honoured to explore that dynamic with you," he replied softly. "But only if we establish clear boundaries, practice open communication, and ensure that both of our needs are met."

 

You smiled, relieved by his understanding and respect for the importance of consent and communication in such exploration. "I couldn't agree more," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "We'll take it slow, step by step, and create a safe space for both of us to express ourselves."

~taglist~

@iluvreid @drspencerreidsthings @amatheuni@i-heart-mgg @Liidiaaag@wyntersstuff@brilliantreid @donttrustlove@btsiguess-kpop @bellesmith628 @lunaticgurly @Oureternalbond@somethingsmart123 @ula-revolution @pleasantwitchgarden @vvampwebb @alysena2 @sujan39 @nini123 @xoxo-lyss @rory-cakes @marantha @http0kms0jpg @peppersapro @mommymilkers3000@spicycalabaza @shinixpo@dr-reidsslut@donttrustlove@miss.dianaa@potatochip-111 @stars-n-stuff15 @nugget1234567@00047c@carley12041@earth2stxr@cosavuoi-me@sewmxx @bibissparkles @frgtmenotes @mdanon027 @drreidsfavwhxre@yourfavoritefangirl @sunnyyyyyyyynnus @mega-kittyglitter-1 @loliakeoghan23 @7bel-o@dreamsarebig @kohordosara16@ashlynt @waywardhunter95 @millreid0607@spencerstits @ruby-d1amond @harrrystyles5 @maoricth @sarcasm-and-stiles @r-3dlips @khxna @k3nz13a @reidtopia @danelhi@fictionallifestuff @girl_lost_not_found@bbggarcia@b0nesnotcals@super-btstrash-posts @blacksoul-27@reidsgirlhottie@alexxavicry @olives-and-sunshine @skulliecadaver-blog

[theaspsaroaceimagines]

Can We Make This Work?

Warning: spoilers for episode 6

A/N: This was requested on wattpad and is tangentially related to my fic, An Angel in Demon's Clothing, but takes place in a separate continuity.

The reader is a mortal angel who volunteered to go to Hell to help with Charlie's redemption project. Charlie and Vaggie are the only ones in Hell who know the reader is an angel, and the reader's mission is a secret that Adam and Lute don't know about.

Song is from Journey to Bethlehem.

--

You'd returned to the Hotel earlier than the others, overwhelmed by Consent's loud music and bright lights.  Not to mention the many, many flirtatious demons making passes at you.  So you were the only one around when Charlie and Vaggie returned from their meeting.

They returned a bit sooner than you would have thought they would.  That's the first red flag.

"You're back early!" you observe, puzzled, and approach the two demonesses slowly.

Immediately, Charlie distances herself from Vaggie, a look of panic and betrayal in her eyes.  "Why didn't you tell me you were an angel?  An exorcist?!" she wails.

You blink in shocked silence.  Vaggie is an angel?  Why hadn't you met her before you came down here?

Vaggie tries to approach Charlie, holding her hands out in a soothing gesture, but the demon princess only backs away.

Slowly, you shake yourself out of your stupor.  "Wait, what's going on?  Why are you guys back so early?"

The two shoot their gazes to you, as if they'd only just noticed your presence.  Vaggie looks anxious and somewhat defeated, and Charlie is nothing short of distressed.  Charlie runs to you, crushing you in a desperate hug, before dragging you up to the Hotel's penthouse suite.

Leaving Vaggie behind.

You're growing more concerned by the second.  "Charlie, what happened?" you ask, stumbling beside her as she continues to cling to you.

She bursts into tears, gripping you tighter.  "They wouldn't listen!" she sobs, "Adam wouldn't listen!  Vaggie's an exorcist and has been lying to me this whole time!"  She releases you, turning to pace around the suite in a tearful panic.  "And the meeting was a disaster!  The Angels don't even know what it takes to get into Heaven! And now the extermination is in a month, and Adam says he's coming for the Hotel first!"

The last bit of news shakes you to the core and you blanch.  "What?  Why?  Why would he do that?!  Is he even allowed to make targeted attacks?"  You try to calm yourself.  Panicking won't help, Charlie needs you calm.

You hear a thump, and whip your head around to see that Charlie has fallen to her knees by one of the windows.

"How could I be," she sings in a soft, defeated voice, "Oh, so naive?"  She wipes at her face with her sleeve as you approach to try to comfort her.

"Foolishly thinking there's more to this life for me," She tearfully looks out the window with a doleful expression as it begins to acid rain on the hellscape below, before glancing back at you.  "Two broken hearts," she lilts, holding a loose fist to her chest, "Right from the start,"

She turns away from the window and curls up in dejection, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms over them, "Watching the dreams that we have as they fall apart,"

You pause in your efforts, hit with the overwhelming emotion emanating from the princess you've come to know as your friend.

"This will never work," her voice sounds almost bitter as she sings, burying her face into her knees, "Even trying feels insane.  This will only hurt,"

She turns her head, looking at you expectantly, "Don't you feel the same?"

You sigh.  "I feel it too," you admit, joining her in song and making the last few steps to her side, "But what can I do?"

You kneel down next to her, gazing at her from the corner of your eye, "I'm just the stranger they say is the one for you,"

"Maybe with time," you sing, taking Charlie's hand in yours, thinking about Adam, your home in Heaven, and the second home you have in Hell, "Something will change?   Making the best of this might be the only way.

"Can we make this work?" you stand, gently helping Charlie up as you do.  Looking out the window yourself, you take in the oddly beautiful landscape of Hell.  

Charlie joins in and the two of you sing together: "Even trying feels insane."

"Maybe when it hurts," your eyes and voice harden with determination.  Things seem grim, but you aren't giving up on your mission.  Both Heaven and Hell depend on it.  You turn to face Charlie, "We'll be worth the pain."

"There are too many questions, Too little time," Charlie points out.  "Too much to ask for, The rest of my life."

You join in with her in agreement, both of you singing, "It's a mountain too high to climb,

"Too many voices filling me with doubt," the two of you can hear them: Adam, Lute, Alastor, the newscasters at 666 News, Sera, even your first patient, Angel Dust.  "Can you hear them now?"

"It's hard to have faith," you admit.

"It's hard to believe," Charlie agrees.

"Our future holds more Than what we can see," you sing together.

You take Charlie's hands, "We have to trust what we don't understand," you resolve, and Charlie joins in;

"It could be a part of God's plan."

"Can we," you sing, pulling Charlie into a dance, hoping to encourage her.

"Can we," Charlie echoes, falling into step.

"Make this,"

"Make this,"

"Work?" you finish together, before twirling around,  "I know trying feels insane."

"Maybe," you lead the princess of Hell in graceful steps, freeing your true angelic wings.  They give off a silvery shine as the two of you dance together.

"Maybe," you can see the stars, feel the cosmos.

"When it," 

"When it," God's Plan would come together with time.

"Hurts," the two of you sing with resolve, "We'll be worth the pain!"

"Can we make this work?" you pull Charlie into a hug as the two of you wrap up the song, "Can we make this work?"

You tuck your true wings away as you end your dance, sending Charlie a gentle smile as their light disappears.

"We'll get through this," you tell her, "I don't know how yet, but we'll get through this."

"Okay," Charlie breathes.

"We should talk to Vaggie," you give a gentle suggestion, "I didn't know she was an angel, either; I've never met her in my time in Heaven, but I'm sure she had an at least somewhat good reason to hide it.  Besides, she's probably having a rough time right now."

"You're probably right," Charlie admits reluctantly.

You give her a wry smile, "Come on, there's no way to fix this without communication."

So you and the princess of Hell leave the suite with a new resolve.

[childesglove]

Did You Cheat On Me? Revenge Taste Bitter

Summary: Childe thought you had cheated on him and he decided he was going to take revenge, even if it hurts both of you. PS: Nobody cheated so don’t worry

Part 2

Warnings: Angst with comfort, Hurt, Implied Violence, Reader has anxiety attack, not proof read, verbal abuse, a lot of screaming

____________________________________________________

“Tell me, who is that man?” Childe yanked your arms towards him harshly making you fall towards him, “ did you cheat on me?” His face was contorted in a fiery rage, there was this coldness in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

“What are you talking about?” You shook your head, confused and offended that Childe would even ask you this. Did he think this lowly of you?

“Don’t.You.Lie.” Childe’s hands were balled into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white before he suddenly hit the wall beside you with a loud thud. You jolted as your eyes widened in shock and fear, you did not understand what was going on and you never saw Childe acting this.. violently around you.

“What the fuck? Childe what the hell was that..” you raised your voice but he cut you off, “ you unfaithful bitch, I’ll make you regret this.” With that, he slammed the door shut leaving you alone.

The next few days was pure hell.

You lost your job. When your Ex is a harbinger, there’s nothing much you can really do when he decided he’s going to ruin your life. All the years you spent studying, fighting for your dream were all like a joke now.

“Ajax, can we-“ you stepped into his office but was brought into an abrupt halt when you saw him holding another women. Your fingers trembled as you clutched the strap of your bag tightly, you stood there frozen as your eyes met his.

He was smiling.

There was a spark of satisfaction that danced like fire in his eyes, his lips twisted into a slight smirk.His smile dropped when he saw a single tear slipped out of your eye.

Your breath hitched, unsure of where to look as more tears start to escape. You felt like you can’t breath, you knew that familiar feeling.

An incoming anxiety attack. Something you have not experienced since you got together with Ajax. Because he’s always there to tell you everything is okay, hush you to sleep when you’re trembling and shaking.

The man that made you forget pain taught you what betrayal felt like today.

You felt disgusting.

Childe gaze lingered on your back as you left, he did this out of spite but there was no sense of satisfaction, the taste of revenge felt bitter and awful.

With a sudden, violent motion, he swept his arm across the table, sending his books flying in all directions. “ Get the fuck out.”

The fatui subordinate, who disguised as his new girlfriend, scrambled and quickly took her bag and left quickly.

Part 2 coming soon

[arienic]

ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!

Your older brother isn’t a good person. Fatui Harbingers don’t tend to be. As the Sixth—well, what do you expect?

You may be a century or so younger than him, your mother’s second failure, the true eternity she’d been searching for trapped in a child’s body, but that doesn’t mean you lack a brain, or a nose, or a set of ears. When they scream, you hear them. When he snaps, you hear him. When he calls you into his office so you can tell him about your day, you pick up on the tang of blood. It hits your nose every time. So does the residue electricity, dancing across your skin and making your hair stand on end. You know, every time.

(Whether he’s aware of this, you’re not sure. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. You don’t ask, only clutch the stuffed animal tighter in your arms and ignore how your older brother smells like the dead every time you meet him.)

But look, now: Kunikuzushi may not be a good person, but he’s the best brother.

He presses your face into his side when you’ve run into trouble and he’s had to cause a scene. A hat that wobbles atop your head, a veil that’s pulled across your eyes. Two hands that cover your own, these gestures warm with familiarity. Kunikuzushi snaps, “Are you stupid, getting yourself into trouble like that? Can you not keep your mouth shut for the one moment I’m gone? You’re the one who wanted to come with me, so behave yourself.” You don’t take the sharpness of his tongue to heart, nor the scowl as he berates you. It had hurt at first, but not for long. Now, these make you smile.

He takes you from the shrine maiden with sly eyes and two pink, swishing tails, when he hears of your birth—your creation. Back then he’d been like you: too sweet, too kind, too sensitive to the uncertainties of life’s transcience. He too had been fragile in nature and wide-eyed at the wonders of humanity, quick to cry in the face of betrayal.

Well, betrayals. Three.

You hadn’t been there for the first two, when he had lost his mother and his friend in the span of a century. But the last one, you’d witnessed. Kunikuzushi’s third; your second. The boy’s death had been the last string.

(Yes, you think. He falls before you. This is one of the few things we have left in common.

Of course, out of all things, it is this: The three betrayals it takes for Eternity’s puppets to snap.)

You didn’t mean to see it. Him. Your brother. The Balladeer.

Kunikuzushi, reaching for your mother’s gnosis.

It’s been centuries since you’ve seen him so vulnerable. If not for the Fatui, maybe you would’ve seen him like so more, but the Snezhnayan organization had hardened him. Turned him bitter, cunning. Not towards you, of course (never you, his precious little sibling) but you saw when he spoke down to others. So condescending, holding his position over their heads. So demanding.

You get the feeling that if they saw him now, they would laugh.

He’s hanging from the tubes of the robot The Doctor built for him and he looks so desperate. (He looks like the puppet he always tells you he’s not, but this time, the strings are Dottore’s, not your mother’s.)

It’s useless to strain for it now—even you know that. Even if it’s not yet in her hands, Sumeru’s god has already won. You can tell that much by how hoarse his voice has become.

Your older brother has been reduced to cries once more.

“That’s mine!” Kunikuzushi roars. You startle, stumble back. He hasn’t noticed you yet. “Don’t even try—!”

“A kid?” you hear from your right, and you see—yes. The Traveller. “What’s a kid doing here?”

You look over, open your mouth to answer, but then you hear him quiet. Your brother has gone silent. Your eyes shoot up.

His strings have snapped.

“Kun—” You catch yourself as you stumble forward. “Scaramouche! Brother!”

He is falling.

Just this once, you plead, help him. Help him. She made him, but she made you too. She made you, you’re her eternity, so surely—

Something gloved latches ’round your arm and you’re pulled back. Stop, you think to cry, but don’t. Why are you stopping me? Don’t do that!

You don’t turn though, only fight against its hold, claw at the fabric and the hand it’s slipped over—Please!

In your frustration, you give one last lunge forward.

And finally, he sees you. (But look, on his face—has it twisted in regret?)

You cry, “Broth—!”

And—too late. The crash is unbearably loud.

The fall has already ended.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

We lowkey talked about this before but I feel this deserves its own moment. So, Prototype Freddy, the headless guy, right?

What if Cassie and the others get him all fixed into a whole Freddy again (I like the idea that his repaired self mirrors Glamrock Freddy's like earring on the other ear and chest bolt facing the other way,) so he becomes their friends too.

And most of them at least, especially Roxy I think, not only welcome him with open arms but straight up treat him as 'their' Freddy AKA totally replacing Glamrock Freddy-- which only further isolates and excludes him when "choosing Gregory over them" already did that too.

I feel like that'd sting for Glamrock Freddy especially with Chica if they being longtime friends or family for being older mascots is a thing.

Also sting in a different way if Roxy and Prototype Freddy actually end up with a far better affinity than she and Glamrock Freddy ever did.

And to rub more salt, eventually Cassie finds Bonnie as well and they try to fix him as much as possible until it's st least enough for him to come online. Then when it's time to catch up with old friends or meet new ones, they have Prototype Freddy there instead of Glamrock Freddy.

I don't think Cassie would do any of this to purposely target Glamrock Freddy but I kinda feel like Roxy would be bitter enough to. After all he "chose that brat he calls a son Gregory and CONTINUES choosing him over them all despite everything he's done to them, so if that's the bed he chose to make then he's going to have to lie in it."

Oooooo this is fun

Imma start by thinking that if Roxy never liked Freddy before, then she probably wouldn't welcome a repaired Freddy into the group very quickly. That whole dynamic would be pretty interesting though, like Roxy could be getting between him and the others every chance she gets to try and make sure he doesn't hurt them again... It might be appreciated at first, I mean this guy looks almost exactly like him and talks with the same mannerisms as him, it's gotta be a bit difficult seeing him around again. Presuming everyone's fixed up, then yeah I can see Roxy going the over protective route until she's outright told to stop. Roxy's a security node/guard dog with nothing to guard anymore, and several very hurt friends to watch out for, she just fell naturally into this without even noticing :(

But that just makes the turnaround more fun, right? Despite everything, Prototype Freddy is a good guy! He could listen to her, try helping her out with whatever it is she's up to, find it funny when she starts a golf club sword fight with Monty, be nothing but protective of all of them, be so damn respectful of her boundaries she starts to feel bad for yelling at him about it... and gradually, she stops watching him like a hawk, waiting for an excuse to kick his shit in. At some point, these two are hanging out and getting along perfectly well it's crazy to her how similar he is to the old Freddy but so different in every way that matters. They're friends now! She wishes this Freddy was the Freddy they'd had from the very beginning! Things would have been so different with this guy and it pisses her off sometimes!

And oh god yeah it'd sting so fucking bad for the others, especially Chica and Monty that the old Freddy chose Gregory over them. He basically sacrificed them and for what? It's such a betrayal, and since they and Sunny and Moon were all friends with him, I can see at least a few of them forgetting this isn't the same Freddy every now and then. He says something they don't expect and they flinch as the truth hits them all over again... that's gotta hurt. Were they not worth anything to him? How could they do this to them?

That's fun...

But yeeessss bringing Bonnie back in a situation like this (though without the prototype Freddy) is something that I have happen in my Meteors AU and it's gold. How do you handle waking up after maybe a year has passed to discover your almost boyfriend set a rabid child on all your friends and family, then ditched them when they needed him the most? How is he supposed to take that? Denial? A desperate spiral into camera footage and questioning, searching for answers? For any kind of evidence that they all might be mistaken? That this was all just one big misunderstanding? His Freddy wouldn't do that... He wouldn't! He's sure of it!

And this Prototype isn't Freddy! Why is he here?! Did everyone just replace him?! This is some Fazbear Entertainment levels of bullshit!! His Freddy was worth more than that!! How could they do exactly what Fazbear would have done and just swap him out for a new one?! What's wrong with them?!

The pain is so good for this oh my god I love it

I like to think that once the reality of what Freddy did sinks in, Bonnie grows to hate him. It hurts to hate him, but he's so fucking betrayed by what he's done, how can he not hate him? He can't still love him! He can't! (He does) It's not fair!

And Freddy would be devastated by all of this holy shit. Seeing everyone with the Prototype, happier with the Prototype, and feeling like everyone moved on and replaced him. Even Bonnie. Heartbreaking.

And yeah you're so right. Cassie wouldn't have done any of this to target Freddy, but Roxy would have for sure. Maybe the idea that this would upset Freddy if he ever sees it is what convinces her to give Prototype Freddy a chance? A kind of "I'm going to pretend to be your friend on the off chance Freddy sees and feels like shit for it" turning into her genuinely valuing his company kind of thing. Maybe he kinda figured that's what her plan was originally and decided to just go along with it and let her do her thing, being genuinely surprised himself to end up friends with her? Lotta ways you can play that!

I love this Prototype Freddy is neat!!

[youshouldhavepaidattentiondad]

The sun begins to rise over Hatchetfield. Weak rays of light flood the town in an ethereal glow.

Hannah and Uncle Wiley sit outside of Beanies, sipping their respective coffee as they watch commuters head to work.

"You know, you haven't been back to your sister's place all night," Wiley points out conversationally.

Shrugging, Hannah takes another long sip of coffee, savoring the bitter taste. "Yeah and?"

"You probably don't need to go there again, right? I mean, what's even there for you anymore, am I right?" He chuckles.

Considering this, Hannah slowly swirls her cup, feeling the liquid inside slosh around. "I mean, I wouldn't have a place to sleep."

"You could always come with me to the Black and White," Wiley offers as he sets down his empty cup. "Wiggly would love to finally meet you."

Hannah knows about the Black and White. Of course she does. Webby always told her it wasn't a place for humans, that bad things happened to humans who went there.

Seems like that was just another lie. Uncle Wiley goes there all the time and he's perfectly fine.

Before Hannah can answer, a beat up old car pulls into the Beanies parking lot. Ethan jumps out of the driver’s seat. 

"Hannah!" He calls as he races over. He slows down, his relief transforming into suspicion as he notices she's not alone. "Who's this?"

"My Uncle Wiley," Hannah answers shortly before taking another sip of coffee.

"Very funny, Hannah. I know your mom doesn't have any siblings," Ethan retorts. He grabs Hannah by her arm, pulling her out of the chair and behind him,  placing himself bodily between her and Wiley.

Wiley smirks at the action, raising an eyebrow as he stands. "We got a problem, Ethan?"

"Yeah, we do," Ethan confirms as he squares his shoulders, sizing the other man up. "I don't know what your fucking deal is, but stay the hell away from Hannah."

"Ethan-" Hannah tries to start, only to get interrupted.

"I've been looking for you all night," Ethan informs her, glancing back at her before glaring at Wiley again. "You know how worried me and your sister have been? You're coming back home. Now."

Hannah grits her teeth. "I don't want to!"

"You don't have a choice." Ethan starts backing away from Wiley, never taking his eyes off the man. He reaches a hand back to gently shove Hannah towards the car.

As Hannah goes to protest, she feels a sudden weight in the pocket of her denim jacket. She slips her hand into it, fingers curling around what feels like a handle.

When she withdraws her hand, she's holding the same black blade Uncle Wiley used to kill that cop last night.

She peers around Ethan to look at Uncle Wiley, who simply smirks before giving her a nod.

Drawing the knife back, she brings it down, through his leather jacket and right between Ethan's ribs.

A pained cry escapes Ethan as he stumbles. As Hannah drags the knife out. He turns to look at her in confusion. "Han-"

He chokes with a bloody cough as she stabs him again. This time the blade hits higher, sending blood blossoming across his white shirt.

When Hannah pulls the blade out again, Ethan drops to the ground, coughing and wheezing. He looks up at Hannah, his brown eyes clouded with hurt and betrayal. "Why…" he manages to croak out before slumping against the sidewalk.

Breathing heavily, Hannah's eyes go wide as she realizes what she just did.

Before she can panic, Uncle Wiley appears at her side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

"You did the right thing," he assures her. "We don't need people who force us to do things, right?"

It takes a few moments for Hannah to tear her gaze away from Ethan's lifeless body to look up at Uncle Wiley.

"...right," She agrees with a firm nod of her head 

[shuhwaa]

Yuqi | Lost

(G)I-dle Yuqi x gn!reader words: ~1.5k genre: angst, a bit of fluff/comfort if you squint warnings: implications of them having had an unhealthy relationship

Desc.: In which you meet Yuqi, your ex-girlfriend you had broken up with not long ago, out on the streets and it seems like neither of you has gotten over everything that happened yet.

You're wandering the streets of the city, neon lights up ahead hiding the stars of the night sky. You've been here countless of times before, knowing the paths and the names of the shops by heart. Still, it seems like you’re estranged from everything nowadays. It's been like that ever since your breakup - nothing you do feels right. You go to sleep earlier than usual but when you get up in the morning you seem more exhausted than ever. Your days pass you by as if you were a mere side character in your own life, a tiny detail easily missed. You're well aware that you just ought to give yourself some time for the pain to pass, and to digest everything that happened, but why is it that the feelings of hurt and betrayal feel like a rock in your stomach, so you can barely even force yourself to eat? The sadness has long consumed you, and still you trust that it will pass, but your faith is wearing thin these days. 

When you turn the next corner, you halt. Your feet refuse to move any further, and when your eyes begin to distinguish the faces in the mass of people in front of you, you understand why. You gulp as you see her, so as not to throw up when it seems like the rock in your gut wants to get out now. Her features as well are shrouded in a deep sadness, and though it makes your heart ache to see her like that, you dare not to draw near.

"Yuqi," you mutter her name under your breath, hating the way it stings like thorns and yet rolls off your tongue so sweetly at the same time. And then she turns her head, catching sight of you, and your gazes become stuck on each other.

It's like you don't even realize how she’s stepping closer slowly, only when she's standing right in front of you, your world seems to be moving again and all the memories hit you at once, like bullets incessantly raining down on you.

Yuqi opens her mouth, but then closes it again without saying a word. When your eyes meet hers, there's pain apparent behind her gaze - you remember the many expressions she's shown you, the joy, the laughter, the fiery, the playfulness,... everything. You've never seen her this sad.

"Yuqi..." You repeat her name, out loud this time, and she replies,

"We should talk." There's no strength left behind her voice, and you're starting to think that maybe you weren't the only one who's had a rough couple of weeks.

"Sure." You agree without thinking, and your feet carry you to a nearby playground that comes with its own set of memories. Each sitting down on one side of the double swings, your eyes focus on the ground underneath you.

"What do you want to tell me?" you ask.

"What?" she replies. "That sounds like you have nothing to say at all." You merely let out a dry laugh - because of how you should've known she would react like that, and because now, you're not afraid of upsetting her anymore.

"Oh I do," you clarify. "I have a lot to say. I just thought maybe you want to start. But if you're going to be like this again, I'm not so sure if I really want to hear it, to be honest." You hear her gasp, followed by silence. "What?" you add, finally looking up at her to be faced with a bitter expression that's hard to stomach. Maybe you've given up on her enough so her words can't hurt you anymore, but it seems like yours still cut her like a knife.

"I'm sorry..." you hesitantly apologize. "What did you want to say?" Yuqi shakes her head, before getting up off the swing, and for a moment you think she'll just walk away and you'll never see her again. However, when she takes a few steps to stand right in front of you, grabbing the chains holding up the swing you're using, you're surprised to say the least. And a bit reassured too.

"You don't get to talk to me like that," she speaks firmly. "You were the one who threw me away like it was nothing. You were the one who would always avoid me and let things go to shit because you were too scared to say a word." You can see the anger reflecting on her face clearly now, yet you can't shake the feeling that deep down her words are coming from a place of deeply caring about you - even after everything that happened to you two.

"And I get it, but I always gave you time, I always took care of you. You can't blame me that at some point I got tired of being the first one to say something," Yuqi continues, fire flaring up in her gaze that's resting on you. And the more she speaks, the more you feel your resistance against her words falter. "This is why you left, isn't it? You were just waiting for me to start making mistakes so you could finally have an excuse to walk out instead of looking yourself in the mirror and fixing things."

She only stops talking when there's a single teardrop running down your cheek. Unable to look at you like that, she steps away.

"You're right..." you eventually say. "It was my fault, I know that. I was a coward... I was scared to lose you if I said a wrong word. I guess I took you for granted too, as much as I wanted you to just admit you're getting fed up with me and leave."

"Y/N, I really hate you." The words don't have the impact that being told the person you used to date hates you should have, and when she whirls around you know why. She's crying, tears streaming down her face. "I really... hate you..." 

You can't watch her like this. You jump up and approach her, wrapping your arms around her and feeling her stiffen up immediately.

"I'm so sorry..." you mumble, but she pushes you away eventually.

"I know you are." She quickly wipes her tears with the sleeves of her cardigan, only for new ones to follow. "But you always are. Being sorry simply isn't enough, do you not understand that?" You can't say anything, so you merely stare blankly at her, until she continues talking in between sobs and sniffles. "I still love you... I hate that I do, because we're not good together. But I do."

"Love..." you call out to her, and it comes out as no more than a whisper. However, she shakes her head firmly.

"Don't call me that..." her voice cracks, like something is crumbling inside her, and you know that this is your last chance to win her back.

"You know..." you begin to talk, "it's funny that we're having this conversation here, isn't it?" When you merely earn yourself a questioning look from her, you elaborate, "I remember last summer when we were here and you told me you liked me." A smile involuntarily creeps onto your face upon thinking back to that day. "I was so happy but I didn't know what to say. So when we were surprised by the rain I was actually glad it started pouring. Because that was the perfect excuse to take your hand and run off with you. And to kiss you in front of that shop later on." Your smile becomes bitter. "I guess looking for excuses was something I've always done. Because I'm a coward..." 

"Y/N," Yuqi says. "Being a coward doesn't make you a bad person. I know that's what you think, but you can still try to overcome your fear and communicate. Even if it's late, even if you can’t say what’s bothering you out loud and you write it down instead or whatever. But you don't have to keep it all inside until it explodes and... this happens." She's calmed down a bit, and you feel taken care of just by listening to her speak. Guilt begins to spill inside you, making you feel sick to your stomach. You avert your gaze, unable to look her in the eyes.

"Stop being so kind to me. I thought you hated me."

"Y/N..." she calls out to you, and when you dare to look up, you find her lips grazing yours. She presses a feathery light kiss onto your mouth, tasting both sweet and bitter, and when she pulls away you yearn for more. "We can't go on like we used to, you know that." You stay still, not wanting to admit the painful truth. "I'll wait for you. I promise, I'll wait. I just don't know how long I can take it. How long I can keep loving you while waiting." You understand what she's trying to say, and so you nod, and you lean in just a little bit, waiting for her permission to close the distance between you. She lets out a sigh, tension flowing out of her body as her shoulders slouch over just a bit, and when her eyelids flutter shut, you kiss her, this time properly.

"I'll be better," you whisper against her lips, "and I'll come back to you. I swear."

[gh0stgirl333]

Broken promises

MC couldn’t save Sebastian from Azkaban and fights fruitlessly for his escape.

Kinda angst, and hurt/comfort ig🙃🤭🥲

I stared at the scene before me in silent desperation, my mouth hung wide, bitter sobs escaping my treacherous lungs; Sebastian being dragged away by those insufferable aurors. His usual sun kissed freckled face pale and sunken; his mischievous smirk replaced with a look of hopeless terror, limp in the ruthless tallons of the ministry men. All his fight had left him the moment he committed his crime, Sebastian had given up instantly after seeing the betrayal on his frail sisters face that fateful day. I watched as a lone tear rolled down his gaunt cheek, his lips forming the silent words: ‘I love you’

“No.” My brittle voice came out in a dying breath, a silent plea on deaf ears. Remorse filled my being, the feeling eating away at my shattered soul. How could I have let him be taken away. I should’ve tried harder. I should have saved him. My body lurched forward as let I out a penetrating screech. “Stop! Please!” My cries went ignored, my body willing itself to go further but was left stuck in the dirt; a hand was gripping my arm, holding me in place. I thrash in my capture’s hold, pulling my weight forward tugging them with me. “Let. Me. Go. Let me go!” My voice taut as we play a harsh game of push and pull with our bodies. My teeth grit as I growl out dragging my feet along the mud; all sense of rationality leaving my being, blinded by rage.

But It was too late, he was gone with a loud crack and a flash of bodies. The air was stolen from my lungs , my determination served fruitless; a deafening thud shot through my ears as my knees hit the grass; the world around became a blur of meaningless shapes and colour. I couldn’t breathe. My body tried greedily to suck oxygen from the air but was left starved, leaving my chest burning and heart aching. “MC..” my ears rang as ominis’ voice trailed off, silenced by the crazed stare i had set upon him. “What did you do ominis? what did you do!” The words came out a hiss, venom slipping along my tongue. “It was for the best, what he did was wrong.” Ominis kept his milky eyes on the ground, guilt swallowing his features as he tried to justify his words. “He made a mistake, ominis.” I pulled my arm out of his loosened grip. “I thought you of all people would understand that.

“Sebastian knew what he did was wrong, yet you still punish him, as if losing Anne wasn’t enough.” A scoff left my throat and ominis’ breath hitched, tears licked his cheeks. My own eyes mirroring his releasing heavy streams down my face. “You may as well have sentenced him to death - in that barbaric place; at least death would have been kind.” I turned now to walk away as desperate sobs left my mouth.

“Im sorry. Please! Stop crying MC, im so sorry.” He rushed after me hands grabbing at me pulling to his chest. I couldn’t fight any longer, this was all wrong. Sobs wracked my chest as our bodies fell to the ground with heavy hearts. “It hurts, so much ominis.” My whispers coarse as I look towards his clouded irises.

“I know, i know.” His voices soothes me as he presses his lip into my hair with a final desperate whisper. “We can save him. We’ll get him out of there, I promise.”

[melis-writes]

as for the cheating trope in here, what abt Victoria having a miscarriage after caughting Michael on the act. i wanna see him with guilt and regret all over his face.

Omg… THE ANGST OF ALL THAT. 😭💔!! And Michael can only blame himself… Continuing on from the original cheating trope you can read here where Victoria managed to stay hidden and quiet in a storage room while Michael was… ahem—preoccupied sexually—with a mystery mistress, here we go. 😞✋🏻

Shock, hurt, betrayal, bitterness—just a few of the sickening emotions twisting in the pit of your stomach as you’ve now stepped out of the storage closet only to stand before your husband still buried eight inches deep inside of a woman you’ve never seen before.

You don’t entirely know what’s worse in this very moment; the fact that you just watched Michael pull out of her while spilling his seed all over the couch beneath him, or that the woman still holds onto Michael’s arms to cover herself or seek some sort of protective cover as if she wasn’t the one having sex with a married man.

A million questions swarm through your mind as you stand there in front of the two, staring with cold, dead eyes.

Michael’s calling out your name cautiously, trying to get your attention somehow but you can’t hear anything or register anything to your mind; all you can do there is stand and watch as the seconds tick by, confirming for you that this isn’t some sort of nightmare you’re having.

It’s only when the woman stumbles over the couch naked, trying to grab her clothes do you realize she clutches onto the side of her cheek where a pink welt stings her skin; you didn’t even realize when you threw your wedding ring off that it hit her in the side of her face.

Michael’s quick to pull on his briefs and his dress shirt over him, thinking now at least you’ll just stand there emotionlessly and do nothing until the woman exits the room, but that’s not entirely on your to-do list for the day either.

Your blood boils from frustration and sheer anger building up inside of you, and although you know better, that you should let it out on Michael and what he’s done to you and as a result to your family, the rage that consumes you now won’t let this mystery mistress go either.

Snapping back to reality, a nasty scowl forms over your face as you lunge towards the woman before she can shrug half of her dress back on.

The mistress cries out as you grab her roughly by both of her shoulders, pushing her body to against the wall with all your might.

Michael can do nothing but watch, unable to discern how you feel and what you think through your body language for the first time in his life, and although it provides him some time to get dressed and look semi-presentable after being freshly fucked, you don’t relent.

The woman cries out as her body hits the wall and she slumps down to the floor, but you’re not done. You grab her by her arm, hauling her back up to her feet before throwing open the door and shove her out again until she once more hits the wall in the corridor and crumples down.

“You bring your whores into my house, Michael?!” You clutch a shaky hand over your three-month baby bump. “You do this to me?! To my children!?”

Your screams can be heard all throughout the estate and over to the others with ease, causing panic and worry amongst the others who quickly begin to run towards the sound of your shrieking.

Michael stands back by the couch and stares at you; nothing to be said or done but the immense look of guilt on his face tells an entirely different story.

You struggle between sobbing and balancing your anger, already feeling your throat weaken as the mystery mistress cowering from you on the floor cries to herself; blood trickling down her forehead.

There is no such thing as being the bigger, better person now. There’s only betrayal, heartache, hatred and getting even.

“Victoria?! What the hell is going on?!” You hear Tom’s voice as several pairs of footsteps rush into the hallway.

Before you stands Tom, Sonny, Connie, Sandra and Mama Corleone who stand utterly shocked to see a half-naked woman slumped on the floor and Michael just by the doorway—half dressed.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grunt out, feeling intense cramping begin to hit you abdomen as you point down at the woman—your finger shaking violently. “I’m going to kill you just because I can, because I’m never going to let either of you live this down and I’m going to enjoy it!”

You scream out, hitting the decorative vase which is the nearest object to you and letting the glass shards shatter all over the hallway.

The woman screams out and shields her face as Michael grips onto the doorway with both hands—his knuckles turning white and his expression now filled with mounting concern.

You can hear your family members call out for you as they rush to your side but it’s too late.

Coupled by the immense abdominal pain and cramping, your eyes roll back as you faint from both physical and mental exhaustion, almost hitting the floor face down if it wasn’t for Tom and the others holding you up.

In less than an hour, everyone on the compound except for your children, nieces and nephews but including Vito, Rocco and Neri are fully aware of what’s happened to you, why, and how.

You didn’t just faint but fell into a catatonic state completely. You were unconscious for three hours, not responding to any touch or noise regardless of being tended to you by your mother-in-law, Connie and Sandra who stood by your side throughout every minute.

Mama Corleone burst into tears at the sight of your limp body the moment Tom and Sonny pulled you up and Michael was ignored by all except for the distraught look Carmela gave him before you were taken to a guest room.

Tears and panicked questions were being thrown everywhere when Doctor Katherine came in as Connie and Sandra were concerned maybe you hit your head while fainting or if you’ve developed any brain damage being unconscious for so long.

Instead, when the words “catatonic state” came out of Dr. Katherine’s mouth, Carmela instantly burst into sobs while holding your hand.

Being in a state of stupor—not moving, speaking or responding to anything already gave it away to Dr. Katherine without further details on what actually happened that an intense emotional and psychological stress shocked your entire body.

Of course, your family physician left no details out, but Carmela had to physically  leave the room to breathe and have Vito calm her down when Dr. Katherine mentioned your catatonic state could last from anywhere to just a few hours to even years.

Michael was neither allowed to see you or step foot near the guest room you were being in treated in; not to mention the door was locked to begin with.

Vito and Carmela both refused to see him and although Tom and Sonny hesitated after hearing their father’s angry outburst after hearing just what had happened, but brothers remain brothers at the end of the day and as much as everyone denied it in that moment, they did want to hear an explanation from Michael.

The fact that Michael cheated on you, was caught in person and by the rest of his family members too in a way sent shockwaves throughout the entire family.

The only ones yet to hear were your father and brothers currently in New York, but both Vito and Carmela knew the news can’t be held back for long.

Once you’re conscious again, your family will have to be notified but as unaware as you were, your health is of the utmost importance to everyone right now regardless of who else needs to hear the news.

Only an additional three hours passed when you began to stir, but not without scarring you for life.

Only Dr. Katherine was by your side when your state stabilized, and the room was filled with your scream-crying when you noticed the blood soaking into your panties accompanied by the worst cramping you’ve ever felt as if your insides were being torn apart.

Coming without warning and although receiving medical assistance from Dr. Katherine, when Carmela, Sandra and Connie burst through the door, instead of seeing you remaining still and in bed as before, you were sobbing out in agony—unable to stop the inevitable miscarriage.

“Cosa sta succedendo a mia nuora?!” (What’s happening to my daughter-in-law?!) Vito was the first to rush to rush up to the room, demanding answers from Carmela who could barely speak from her own tears.

“Il suo bambino. Ha abortito il suo bambino.” (Her baby. She miscarried her baby.) Carmela answered as tears slid down her cheeks. “Non c'era niente che potessimo fare al riguardo. È troppo tardi, ha perso il suo bambino…” (There was nothing we could do about it. It's too late, she lost her baby…)

Within the bleeding soaking through the bedsheets and towels beneath you, you were unaware throughout the inevitable miscarriage that your cervix had opened and the fetus growing inside of you gave away amidst the crimson mess.

Before you could see the tiny, unborn fetus, Dr. Katherine immediately made sure to cover it and secure you—insistent on stabilizing you first before things got worse.

“Il suo bambino?” (Her baby?) Vito swallowed hard, covering his face with one hand and letting out a shaky, deep exhale. “Fallo entrare qui. Voglio Michael qui. Fagli vedere cosa ha fatto a sua moglie.” (Get him in here. I want Michael here. Let him see what he's done to his wife.)

“Sono qui.” (I’m here) Michael spoke, standing just a few feet behind his mother and father in the hallway.

“Non sto parlando con te, Michael. Non riesco nemmeno a guardarti.” (I'm not speaking with you, Michael. I can't even look at you.) Carmela’s voice shook as she quickly made her way off down the hallway.

Vito kept his head down, taking in deep breaths but being unable to block out the sounds of your wailing and Dr. Katherine attempting to calm you down to no avail.

Michael ignored his father, filled with enough regret to haunt him for the rest of his life already as he pushed open the door to the guest room—standing directly across from you where you lay on blood-soaked bedsheets.

Hiccupping throughout your sobs, you clutched onto your stomach knowing your fourth child had passed out of you and from this life; your body unable to carry on and function healthily with all of this emotional distress.

Dr. Katherine had not looked back to see who had entered, more than preoccupied with you but as soon as you locked eyes with Michael, you stopped flailing and thrashing around on the bed.

With tears in your eyes and your heart aching in your chest, you stared at your husband with desperate, defeated eyes, seeing guilt and regret breaking through Michael’s expression.

Michael knew then that it was over, and that neither of you would ever live this down or recover from it—let alone his family, but it was that look you had never seen before on Michael’s face that confirmed it all for you.

Hell would grow ice cold before you could ever forgive Michael for doing this to you, but the love that you had remaining for this man was killing you along with the responsibility of parenting Verona, Niccolò and Vincent after their father cheated on you and caused such heavy damage to your health.

You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing deeply as you hope to yourself Michael just disappears—that he’d go away and you could somehow escape from this horrific nightmare ruining you, but it’s the closest thing to the truth and to reality.

Unsure if Michael or Dr. Katherine could even hear you at this point, the only word you could muster out since you arose from your catatonic state was, “why?”

[variousqueerthings]

@le-red-queen think you really hit the nail on the head (almost wrote nailed the head uh...) when you asked what silver’s motivations are

because going by “waves hands around” everything, terry silver’s motivations are... john kreese 

in tkk3 of course, putting aside everything to give kreese what he wants, and then possibly getting sidetracked a liiiittle too much with his new fun toy, but essentially doing it all so that john kreese can get his revenge and feel like a man again -- the fact that kreese never said anything about making cobra kai massive doesn’t matter, terry knows what he really wants 

but it’s also what cobra kai said -- terry retreated because john left him, and he retreated so far he became That Person We See Opening S4 before he gets back into karate (not just a phase....)

he comes back because john asks him to, he changes because john demands it of him, he wants what john wants, except he can make it even better than john could possibly imagine!

terry silver is a giver to those he loves (which is john kreese), and he’s a predator towards those he doesn’t (toying with daniel, luring johnny in to beat him up), but ultimately his version of love is to give what he thinks kreese wants, whether or not kreese asks for it -- beating up johnny to show kreese that he’ll do anything for him, putting kreese in jail so he can’t ruin “their” plans with his weakness (and can’t run away from him again), destroying larusso so that they have no competitors, making cobra kai bigger and bigger and bigger (ignoring that kreese was never actually interested in that, because why wouldn’t he want more)

and of course there’s the betrayal of it all. he would do everything and anything for john, but he’s also testing him the whole time -- will john accept his love? and now he knows that he’s second-best to some dumb blond kid who never even sacrificed like he did? and on top of that kreese puts him down, essentially orders him to minimize himself as if he knows better (when terry now knows that those orders come from john’s weakness)... well that just won’t do

so what are silver’s motivations in s5? where did this idea of “legacy” come from, it never existed as a motivation before. kreese was silver’s motivation, whether it was to prove his love to him, give him everything, hurt for him, try to forget him with every fibre of his being, coming back for him, putting him somewhere where he can’t derail what terry needs to do for him, essentially promising to kill his adopted heir to rid him of weakness, and of course... cobra kai

cobra kai was never terry silver’s interest. everything he has become has been because of john kreese. he never wanted to teach students or continue a tradition. he just wanted john to stay with him (and want him for everything and give him everything)

so the only way I can understand his s5 arc is from that perspective as well -- WITH the added benefit of playing with an old favourite toy of his (daniel)

the “legacy” arc on the surface (and no doubt, the intended surface) makes no flipping sense. when did he ever care about legacy before? what legacy are we talking here? what does it do for his character, rather than propping up other character arcs (that also don’t make sense -- johnny) around the idea of “everyone must want a kid, otherwise they’re broken and twisted people who feel bitter about their lack of offspring”?

what does make sense is once and for all proving that he was right and kreese was wrong. all these years offering him more and more and kreese fighting back against it -- well look at him now, he did it. he made cobra kai bigger, just like he promised, he got rid of johnny lawrence, just like he promised, he destroyed daniel, just like he promised -- now, finally, nothing stands in the way of john kreese loving him

[flowerfan2]

Chapter 3 is up - Ted and Trent talk about Ted’s feelings about Michelle... read on A03 or below.

This is a continuous story of episode codas - now with cover art!

Chapter 3

Trent can’t help but think that ‘on a break” is a lot less funny in real life than in an American sitcom.

*****

The night after the first game with Zava, that incredible win, Trent meets Ted at his flat for a late dinner.  It’s clear from the start that something is wrong.  Ted’s smiles are halfhearted, his jokes fall flat.  He barely reacts when Trent sings him a few bars of Julie Andrews’ greatest hits and offers to dance him around the living room.  What should be a night of celebration is going nowhere fast.

Trent tries to engage him in conversation about Zava and how he might affect the team’s dynamics, a topic on which they have both been speculating about at length.  Now, with some actual evidence in the form of watching Zava play with Richmond, there should be lots to talk about.  But Ted only vaguely participates in the conversation, finally just staring off into space over his bowl of chicken biryani.

“Ted, are you all right?”  Trent finally asks, reaching out to take the wavering fork out of Ted’s hand.  

“Hm, yes, I’ll talk to Jamie.”

“Ted?  We left off talking about Jamie ten minutes ago.”

Ted blinks at him, and then shakes his head.  “Sorry.  You must think I’m losing it.”

“I am a little concerned, to be sure.”

Ted stands up and takes a few steps away from the table, pausing with his hands on the back of his head, facing away from Trent.  “I found something out today that, um, threw me a bit.”

Trent follows Ted and loops his arms around him from behind.  To his surprise and dismay, Ted doesn’t relax into his embrace and nuzzle into his neck like he usually does.  Instead he steps out of Trent’s arms, turning to face him.

“I’m so sorry, Trent.”

Trent feels the blood rush from his face, but he forces himself not to jump to conclusions.  “Sorry for what?”

“I called home to talk to Henry today.”  Ted clears his throat.  He’s doing that thing with his hands, rubbing his fingers together.  “Found out kinda by accident, I guess, that Michelle is with our former marriage counselor.  Dr. Jacob.  Seems like it’s been goin’ on a while.  Dr. Jacob is at my house, he’s picking up my phone and doing impressions.  He’s driving Henry to soccer.”

Trent can feel how hurt Ted is by this.  It’s palpable.  “Oh, sweetheart.  That must feel like a betrayal.”

“Yes, yes it does,” Ted says, moving closer.  “That’s exactly it.”

“You don’t have to apologize for being upset about it.”  Trent holds Ted’s gaze for a moment, trying to figure out how to comfort him.  In the past, when Ted has been anxious, he had wanted Trent’s company, whether to distract him or just hold him close.  But at the moment that doesn’t seem to be the case.  “What can I do?  Do you want to get into bed, call it a night?”

Ted shakes his head, wipes at his eyes.

“Would you… rather be alone tonight?  Am I making it worse?”

Ted laughs, a bitter, wet sound.  “You know, the irony is that you are one of the few things that has ever made this better.  You make me better, you make me happy, Trent, but…”

“But what?”  Trent asks, his voice sinking low.  

“The way I feel right now… it’s not fair to you.”

Trent reaches out, he can’t help it, Ted is so distraught.  But Ted just steps away again.  It’s like a punch to the gut.  Trent takes a deep breath and tries to center himself, tries to focus on what Ted needs, not the rejection swirling in his own chest.  “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah, sure.”

They arrange themselves on the couch, stiff and awkward and not at all comfortable, but Trent feels a little bit better with something stable under him, something to hold on to.  He hopes Ted does too.

“Can you tell me why you think this isn’t fair to me?” he asks carefully.  “Because you don’t have to be in a good mood for me to want to be with you.  I care about you no matter how you’re feeling.”  This is a conversation they’ve had before.  Ted’s anxiety and what Trent is pretty sure is depression isn’t something that’s going away.  It’s something he is working on managing, and living with, and Trent has made clear – or at least he thought he had – that he is there for Ted on the bad days as well as the good days.  His regard for Ted doesn’t depend on the status of his mental health.

“I know that,” Ted says, “and I appreciate it, I do, more than I can say.  That’s why it’s so gosh darn hard.”

Trent doesn’t know what to do with this.  “Ted, please tell me what’s going on.  Have I done something wrong?”

“No, lord no.  You’re good as gold, Trent, better, even, you’re platinum.  But I’m not.  I’m… the thing is… I don’t know if I’m <i>over</i> it, over Michelle and the divorce and losing her and my family and-”  Ted breaks off and presses his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.  “I don’t wanna get deeper into this and hurt you worse.  It’s not fair.”

Trent has been broken up with before.  He’s an adult, he can handle it.  But he really didn’t see it coming from this angle, not with how good things have been with Ted.  A mean, low thought bubbles up and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

“I suppose it’s a lot simpler to pine after your ex-wife than come out about your relationship with a man.”

Ted’s eyes go wide.  “You don’t really believe that’s what this is about.”

Trent lets himself wallow for a moment, takes shelter in anger to camouflage his pain.  “Maybe I do.”

“Oooh boy, I’ve really screwed this up then, haven’t I,” Ted says, standing up and walking over to the front windows where he leans a hand against the wall.  “Boy howdy, you know that’s not true, and I know you know it.”  Ted turns back towards Trent.  “Remember that song, that Joni Mitchell one about the taxi that isn’t really about the taxi?  Where she says you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone?”

Trent swallows over what feels like a rock in his throat.  “Is that how you feel about Michelle?”

Ted drops back down on the couch, closer to Trent this time, and reaches out to take his hand.  Trent grips it gratefully, feels himself tremble as Ted squeezes back.  “No, Trent.  It’s how I feel about you.”

The anger drains out of him, like it always does with Ted.  He doesn’t know how anyone can be mad at Ted.  Still, he doesn’t quite understand the reference, and it’s not for lack of deep knowledge of Joni Mitchell’s catalogue.  “But I’m not gone, Ted.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will be gone.  Or, probably you’ll be.  You have every right to be.”

“Ted, please just tell me what’s going on.  It sounds like you’re about to tell me you slept with Michelle, but I know that isn’t the case.”

“No.  But if she showed up here right now and said she’d take me back, I’m afraid I’d say yes.”

“Oh.”  Trent’s mind goes blank.  “Well.  Then.”  He runs a hand through his hair and stands up, straightens his clothing.  “All right, well, thank you for dinner.  I’ll be off.”  He can hear how ridiculous he sounds, how pathetically <i>British,</I> but there’s nothing to be done.

“Trent,” Ted says, and he’s on his feet too, his hand catching the sleeve of Trent’s jacket.  “Maybe… we could just take a break, give me a little time to work this out?”

“A break?”

“Yeah.  Trent, I care about you.  A lot.  You know I do, right?  You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time-”

“Since Michelle,” Trent mutters.  Second best, second choice.  It’s miserable.

Ted stares at him, a worried line between his brows, and Trent hates that Ted is now focused on consoling him.  But then Ted quirks a little smile.  “I suppose it’s what you’d call ‘bad form’ to tell you how much I wish I could just kiss you right now, and make it all better?”

Trent lets out a long breath on a sigh.  “Yes, Ted, it’s bad form to tease a man like that as you send him on his way.”  He takes off his glasses, rubs the lenses with his t-shirt, and puts them back on.  “Do you really think it’s worth calling this a ‘break,’ rather than a ‘break-up’? Because I’m generally a fan of ripping the band-aid off, as you might say.  Not sure it’s going to be any easier in the long run.”

“I do.  And I know it’s a lot to ask, maybe, that you keep your heart open for me for a while.  But I appreciate you, Trent, and I appreciate what we’ve got.  I can’t bear for it to be gone because I’m still tangled up with Michelle, somewhere  deep down I haven’t been able to reach yet.”

“But you need us to be apart while you figure it out.”

“It’s the only thing I can think of.”

Trent hates this, hates it with every part of his being.  But he loves Ted, even if he hasn’t said it yet.   Ted isn’t making up drama, he is doing just the opposite and being as honest with Trent as he can.  And if Ted really isn’t over Michelle, after a year and a half, then it might not be the worst idea to slow things down.

“All right.”

“Yeah?”  It’s the most hopeful Ted has looked all night.

“Yes, Ted.  We can be ‘on a break.’”  Trent rolls his eyes a little for emphasis, and to make Ted smile.  

Ted snorts.  “Thank you, Trent.  I appreciate it.  I think it might help, even if it hurts, too, you know, like that awful stinging red stuff my dad used to put on my scraped knees.  And it won’t be so bad, really, I mean – we’ll see each other at work.”

“Holy christ, you think that will make it easier?”

Ted gives a helpless shrug.  “Give it a chance?”

Trent nods and leans forward out of habit, stopping himself just before kissing Ted good night.  Ted looks at him sadly but escorts him out of the door nonetheless.

Trent walks to the tube with tears pooling in his eyes and Joni Mitchell singing in his head.

[anaja-theratbird]

For a classmate.

It’s been a while.

There’s no right or wrong time to send an apology to someone you’re no longer in contact with, so I guess it’s now. I wish I’d treated you better. True, we were young with our share of trauma and baggage, and we didn’t know how to communicate. Doesn’t make the wish go away.

When I met you, I saw a quiet and intelligent woman who shared similar interests with me. I saw someone who looked up to me, who liked being around me, who enjoyed the frankly ridiculous ways that I saw it upon myself to entertain you and make you happy. Underneath that woman, however, was a very hurt person who needed help I couldn’t give. I’m sure you figured it out if you looked back on it, that I was in denial. I got a rush from being the one to make you happy, from feeling like I was helping you, that I didn’t listen to you when you had opinions or feelings that contradicted with my own stuck-on-one-track life. I was selfish doing that, as I had my own baggage that was too painful to address yet.

In truth, I hoped in the beginning that if I made you happy enough, you would seek out help with the things that I couldn’t help with. Well, human beings are more complicated than that, and I’m sure it would feel like a betrayal if you knew back then. You saw a friend, not someone doing that. I even thought a few times “I’m the parent here” which…what. I don’t want to be a parent, so what was I doing trying to be one at eighteen years old?

When we started having disagreements, I didn’t know how to communicate. I’d bottled up a lot by then, and I’m pretty sure you did too. Once in particular I didn't mean what I said, I was just mad. In truth again, I was scared about what might happen if I tried to walk away from you. Because I know what it’s like to be that intensely silent, hurting person who just escaped from major trauma. You didn’t tell me much about your past, but believe me, you’re a survivor.

Even though I knew what it was like, I didn’t slow down to be honest with myself and admit that I couldn’t give you what you needed, when you were ready to receive it. Being with you helped me stifle my own problems. It would have been better off for both of us if I’d wished you luck, said I was sorry, and walked away. Instead I stuck around, and it slowly made things go bitter and resentful.

By then, I was a different person than when we met. I want you to know it is not because of you. I’d spiraled into a negative mood, negative mindset, negative everything. By junior year I was suicidal, something I didn’t realize until recently. I’d been hurting myself every day, all day, and you had to deal with some fallout from that. Sorry.

And like. I didn’t have to be scared of what you might do if I walked away. I was wrong about that too.

Another thing…you were right for thinking I was lame for having that goofy “can’t we all get along” mindset. Like I said, I had baggage back then, and felt like I had to be a good little girl who let people walk all over her. To me, my life’s purpose was to serve. When we started hanging out again after that one gap, I had turned into an anxious wreck who was desperate to serve people for approval—hate to say it, but it’s true. Sorry you had to fake it to validate me.

At graduation, I think we both knew we let things go on too long. Did you feel the same emptiness I did when we hugged each other goodbye, I wonder? When we left each other wasn’t a great moment, I must say, and I hope your life has gotten better since then. I hope you found people who can help you finally be the You that you want to be. And if you’re already there, then great! Keep at it.

So, I want to say…you’re smart, like wicked smart, and it’s lucky for everyone else that you use it for good (usually). I love the belief you have for your field, and the purpose you feel in doing it. I admire your intensity in sports, even when everyone else is casual—you’re here to hit the high score. And I really appreciate when you told me your favorite thing about me was my passion. No one ever told me that and I’m glad to have heard something from the authentic you, the one who felt like you could speak. Your kindness for animals is always something to admire, like when you told me you looked for an adult cat instead of a kitten to adopt. I’m glad you’re always with cats in your life, and I’m glad you had a good dog.

I’m glad there was someone in college who I could share my love for Pokémon with. Flareon is an awesome critter and her weird stats don’t matter. Thanks for the movies, thanks for the discussions, and sorry for the promises I didn’t keep. I’m sorry for not listening to you, especially when you really needed it. I hope that someday you get to watch that Broadway show with that one family member of yours. I especially hope you found something to use with your great love of music. You didn’t seem to think you deserved to back then, but I there’s nothing wrong with enjoying bagpipes on campus.

You have a lot to say, and who knows, someday I might watch a movie or read a book about it. Well, I don’t know what else to say. May your path be bright, I guess.

[vintage-marina]

Why didn't you? Drukkari x blackwidow!reader

Pt. 2

ANGST!

Okay i didn't got the time to watch Eternals but i had an idea in my head that I can't get out. Basically Druig, Makkari and you are in a relationship, after you met their family and they told you what they were and what their purpose is, you can't help but to be bitter.

This is an black widow!reader be warned for the following trigger/content warnings: The red room, swearing, death, grief

wordcount: 999 words

Tensed.

That was the only word anyone could describe about you. You sat between Druig and Makkari, you could feel their eyes drilling on you. Your smile was turned into a frown.

Silence.

Their whole family went silent after you asked Ikaris what he meant.

''What do you mean by that?'' Coldness rolled out of your tongue, a hollowness found your body that you gladly welcomed again after it lost his way when you were rescued out of the Red Room and your eyes lost the dimmed sparkle. Out of the corners of your eyes you saw that Druig and Makkari were looking at each other in worry.

A small grin formed on his face, but Sersi looked at her lover with a hint of disapointment.

The realisation hit you after a few seconds, you didn't know you were tensed up until Makkari softened the frown on your face and Druig laid a hand on you shoulder.

''Don't touch me,'' you spoke and signed. Somewhere in the distance it sounded like a warning, a faint call to do not do it again or harm will come to you.

''My love,''

''My sweet, sweet Y/N.''

They began whispering your nicknames, trying to avert a fight. But it was hurt that you felt, anger, grief, sadness and betrayal. You couldn't hold it in anymore, no human can.

How could they betray you like that? Your lovers, how could they do that?

You stared at the carpet of someone's house, that you couldn't remember the name. Druig and Makkari's sussing fell on deaf ears.

They called themselves the Eternals, were around 7000 years old, had powers. Powers to let the world flourish, to stop harm, to stop meaningless wars and to stop the Red Room, Hydra and Thanos. They had all the resources, they could have done it. But why didn't they do it? Did they wanted it to happen?

Lowly you spoke after regaining your voice.

''Why?''

''What why, Y/N?'' It was Druig who said it, while Makkari took your balled fist, preyed it open and gave a little kiss on the knuckles on your hand.

You closed your eyes for a few seconds only to be met with the green lively eyes of Natasha.

A wave of grief crashes over you, you were sure Druig could feel/hear or how the fuck it would work your emotions. You opened your E/C eyes and were met with watery eyes.

Druig and Makkari wanted to see your face, what was going on in your mind, why you were acting so odd. But you didn't budge, you shutted yourself out, from them from the other Eternals. A coping mechanism that you quickly learned in the Red Room.

"What she meant is why we wouldn't do anything, is that right?''

You tilted your face to the right to see the face of the voice, it was Phastos. You hummed in agreement.

A soft oh escaped the lips of the Eternals.

''It's because we were told to not to intervere, Y/N.'' It was Makkari who explained it to you, but you didn't want to hear it.

''Stop,'' you signed to her. ''I don't want to hear any of this.''

Your gaze fell on Druig and the rest of their family, well 'family' Druig wouldn't call them family.

''All of you- '' your voice cracked and you snatched out your hand out of Makkari's to wipe away a stray tear. ''All of you had a choice to help the people on my planet and you didn't.'' You took a shaky breath. ''You didn't and now they are dead, because of you.''

The Eternals erupted into a defensive roar, trying to apologise, to give excuses for what they did. A flash of hot white clouded your vision and you let your tears freely fall.

What they did was inhumane, cruel. They could have saved you, saved your childhood, saved your innocence, saved your Natalia.

Your heart was broken in millions ways that even Druig and Makkari couldn't fix, maybe not even you.

Natasha, the brave, brave Natasha, your sister. Only her you could think about. Flashes of Yelena, Natasha, you, mama and papa were running through.

''Yelena, Natalia-sha help! Help!'' A cry for help came out of your mouth after papa decided to pester you. He tickled your sides while you were kicking him to let you go. A few seconds went by and Natasha flew on papa's back while Yelena poked in his rib. Your hysteric laughing ebbed away and quickly you runned to mama.

Clank!

The wooden swords were clanking against eachother. You three were in the backyard playing pirate.

'"Watch out because I, the most feared pirate in the whole world is going to destroy the both of you!'' Natasha's green eyes widend to gave her character some flair. You side eyed Yelena, a silence agreement to take the most feared pirate down.

''You're going down pirate!''

Both you and Yelena runned to Natasha to tackle her.

You three pushed your head against eachother, in the background you could hear sirencs and the engines of cars.

''You should go away, they are looking for me.'' Natasha spoke to you two in Russian. You already knew who she was talking about. The four of you flew away in a helicopter and you saw that Natasha was arrested by some man called Ross.

''You killed her,'' you swung your arms around. ''You killed her,'' your voice was raw. ''And now she's dead.''

A soft who, you could hear.

Makkari and Druig pushed you slowly to the couch and kneeled before you both cupping a cheek.

''Who Y/N?'' They ignored your insults, knowing that they came out of a dark place. A place that you hid them away from.

''If you can't talk it's okay, you can show me.'' His Irish accent was filled with desperation.

''No, don't. I don't want to be mind controlled again, ever.''

Exhaustion.

Mentally and psychical you felt exhausted.

Makkari read your lips and stroked your cheek signing that it would be okay. Worry streamed through her veins and she took Druig's hand to calm herself. It looked like Druig needed it too.

''My sister,'' you said in a low whisper.

[cherryjuicegf]

inspired by this post

The blade is cold, and she's choking.

It's not the silver, she knows, and almost laughs. Silver is for monsters. Geralt is staring at her.

It's the rage. The rage, and the regret, and the guilt, and the way his eyes shine dark amber as though to become one with the grey clouds and it's not anger in them but pain, it's the regret and the rage and the love, the love, the love and gods, where did she learn to love so much?

Geralt's hand is shaking. Not fitting for a witcher. He knows. Only for a man who hurts.

It's hurt, pain and hurt, and it chokes her. She wants his anger. She'd know what to do with his anger. She'd known what to do with hers.

But Geralt doesn't turn from her. He only keeps the blade steady and light on her throat and it's so unfair, but when had it not been?

He's close now. Looking at her over the blade and she could move away, she could, but she doesn't. The blade feels right. And oh, his breath is so warm as it hits her skin, so close to home.

He swallows, and something is glistening in his eyes. His voice a memory of a growl. "Are we even now?" and on instinct, on rage, she laughs.

Shakes her head. "Not everything is about you."

He's burning. She can feel his fire licking at her skin and wonders whom it will devour first but it's so warm, so gentle, like the fire of a hearth, like he's incapable of pushing the blade deeper.

There's a lump coming up his throat, and he's choking.

She's so beautiful in her sorrow, and he never thought betrayal to be sweet. Suddenly, the sword in his hand is heavy.

It's not magic. It can't be, not now. And yet he finds himself leaning, closer still, burning as the anger is wailing to get out, scratching at the thick walls of his pain. It's the pain. She doesn't avert her eyes, stubborn woman, pleading and still proud in her regret and he leans closer still, and feels her breath hitching in her throat. It's the pain. The blade is steady and, soft, bitter, their lips touch over the silver despite, despite, despite, dancing on the edge of a plank over the deepest ocean ready to pull them down. It's the love.

She hisses silently and kisses him harder, letting the world's apologies slipping from his tongue inside her mouth in an ironic reversal of roles. And then, they part.

The blade is steady, and the faintest trail of blood flows down her throat. It's not right. And yet.

Some swallowed tears shimmer trapped in her eyes and he looks at her again, and now his voice is shaking. "Are we even now?"

It's burning less now, the rage. The pain. Yennefer huffs, always bitter, and yet the shape of her lips seems still curved in the kiss. An old smile, perhaps. The love is still seething. He lowers the sword.

She swallows, and nods, voice quiet.

"Behold the mother of forests..."

The blade is not choking anymore.

[babyboibucky]

Undeserving (Deserve Better Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You confront Bucky about his decision to abandon you.

Word Count: 2,868

Warnings: More angst lmao I’m sorry for this

A/N: Honestly struggled with this because 1) I couldn’t decide on how to end it and 2) I was pressured from the feedback I got from Deserve Better. I’m not entirely happy with how this came out and initially, I planned on doing an epilogue for those who’d prefer a different ending but decided against it. Anyway, if you guys have more questions about this, send me an ask! I’d love to discuss more about this lol luv u all as always. Feedbacks are highly appreciated and I hope this was good enough for y’all who enjoyed Deserve Better xoxo

Deserve Better || Undeserving || Deserve The Best

MAIN MASTERLIST

-

You chose to stay.

Despite seeing the love of your life— whom you had waited for years— in the arms of another, you stayed at the gala. It was after all, to honor Steve’s legacy and you respected him enough not to walk away and miss out on the speeches given by people dearest to him, Bucky included of course.

You weren’t sure if he had seen you and the way your eyes brimmed with tears when everything finally made sense to you. He wasn’t far from you when you stopped in your tracks, mouth parting as a soft whimper escaped past your lips.

You had never imagined that heartbreak could be so physically painful. And it wasn’t the regular pain you’d feel after an intense workout or when you scraped your knee. The hurt was different, like your heart was being tightly squeezed into someone else’s palm. It was choking you, constricting you of oxygen as if you were drowning. No matter how much you tried to reach the surface, the pain just kept on pulling you down until there was nothing but darkness and well, pain.

Once the program was over and all the guests were left to mingle, you carefully slipped out of the crowd. Mindlessly, you walked and walked and walked until your feet began to hurt from the heels you were wearing. When the cold and crisp air of the evening embraced you, it was then that you realized that you reached the compound’s garden, just behind the main hall where the gala was happening.

The quiet gave you time to think and process everything that had happened. Bucky left to find himself and to become better, that he did. And you waited only to discover that he’d been back for quite a while now but chose to be with another.

As you looked out in front of you, your vision turned blurry as a new wave of tears escaped your eyes. Your grief had resurfaced after repressing it for so, so long. Grief from Bucky’s goodbye, from his absence and from waiting, grief from seeing him with someone else; no matter the cause, all in all it was grief nonetheless.

Bucky’s soft voice calling your name echoed in the evening air, it was so soft that you almost thought that you were hallucinating. But then he’d called you again, using the pet name that used to make your stomach flip and your heart to flutter. It still had the same effect now, you realized, only that it came along with an immense amount of pain that made your blood boil.

Hearing Bucky call you that, it almost felt like poison. It was quiet, gentle even but it left a bitter taste in your mouth as you felt its venom run through your veins until you could no longer feel anything but pain.

“Doll—“

“Don’t.” you seethed and turned around, pointing a shaky finger right at Bucky. “Don’t call me that when you’re with someone else, James.”

Bucky flinched at the way you had addressed him. You saw how his face faltered upon seeing you like this. His vibranium arm was restless against his side, as if he wanted to reach out to you but knew better than to do so.

“I waited for you!” you spat.

If he found somebody else to become better for, he could at least let you know. But he didn’t and you needed to know why he chose to abandon you. You needed it so badly, for your own peace of mind. For closure. You deserved that, at least.

“I’m sorry, I—“

“No, you don’t get to say your side until I’m done with mine!” you insisted. “I have every right to be selfish right now. I can choose to lash out on you or refuse to even listen to whatever your reason is for abandoning me no matter how valid it is. I fucking deserve that, Bucky.”

Bucky closed his mouth and nodded; you hated how he was staring at you as if he just lost his moonlight, as if he still loved you. If he did, you wouldn’t be confronting him like this and you wouldn’t have seen him with someone else.

“When Steve told me that you disappeared, when it felt like there was no way to bring everyone back, I waited. It didn’t feel right for me to move on from you just like that and deep inside I knew that you were going to return. Five years, Buck. I waited five years for nothing.” you said quietly, recalling how devastating those five years were.

You didn’t know what would happen then, nobody knew. Would they still come back? The chances were slim and yet you trusted your gut and decided to remain hopeful. It wasn’t easy to wait for something or someone that may never come back. But you still did and it never even crossed your mind that you may just be wasting your time.

You let out a breathy chuckle, “And then you came back and I felt alive again. But then you said goodbye.” you pursed your lips in an attempt to hold back your tears but to no avail.

It took you a while to collect yourself and Bucky let you, until you spoke again and told him how much it destroyed you when he walked away from you.

“Everyone else told me that I shouldn’t wait. Not again after those five years. But it felt easier this time around because you told me you wanted to get better. For me. And I was excited, Bucky.” you told him with a chuckle. “I was excited to see your return. I looked forward to how we’d spend our time together when you come back, if you’d cut your hair. If you’d wear the same cologne that I loved.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you recalled those times you daydreamed about Bucky’s return. The wait was agonizing but it gave you something to look forward to. At least you weren’t waiting for nothing anymore. Bucky was leaving but only temporarily, you were sure he’d come back. But the smile vanished as soon as it appeared and before you knew it, you were sobbing again.

“And now you’re back and so much better. But you aren’t mine anymore.”

At this point, your grief had consumed you both physically and mentally. You knees wobbled but you didn’t hit the ground, no. Instead, there was warmth against your skin followed by the smell of a certain cologne, enveloping the air around you. Bucky caught you in his arms and he held you tight as you cried into him.

“Shh, doll. I’m here now.” he whispered before pressing a kiss onto your crown.

As much as it felt right to be in Bucky’s embrace, it wasn’t enough to overcome the betrayal he did. You groaned in frustration and pushed him away, stepping back and hugging yourself instead.

“Why?” you asked quietly.

“I need to know why and how we came to this.” you asked, almost begged for Bucky to give you the closure you badly needed.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair as he paced before you, his cheeks stained with his own tears. “I came back for you.” he said.

You frowned, “When?”

“I couldn’t wait to see you again and as soon as I got back, I went straight to your office. But then you weren’t working there anymore, I found out that you finally landed your dream job at the law firm.” he said with a small smile. “I was so proud when I heard that. I was supposed to go to your apartment but something came up and I needed to meet with Sam first. Weekend came and I was on my way to your place when I saw you. And you were with someone else and you looked....happier, the happiest I’d seen you.”

Something clicked and you quickly shook your head, “Andy. No, he’s not...we were never together. This is a misunderstanding, Bucky. He and I were never—“

“I know.” Bucky admitted.

“What?” You asked, voice soft from utter confusion.

“You looked happy with him, not because of him. I know you weren’t in love with him because if you were, you would have looked at him the same way you’re looking at me now.” He explained sadly.

Hearing Bucky’s explanation made you angrier. If he knew that, then why did he still leave? What reason could be bigger than that to make Bucky wake up one day and decide that he no longer wants to come back to you?

If he knew you loved him so much to actually wait, why did he leave you like that?

Your brows creased, “If that’s not the reason, then what?”

Bucky shrugged, “I realized that you didn’t deserve me. I left to better myself for you, god I really did. But when I saw you and how you managed to be successful without me by your side, I figured that you were better off without me. I thought I got better, but seeing you again looking so beautiful, happy and just...maybe I’ll never be the right one for you.”

You bitterly chuckled at Bucky’s revelation, “This doesn’t make any sense to me, Bucky. You chose to abandon me because you thought I was happier without you?”

You felt offended that Bucky even thought of that. Did he not trust you when you told him you’d wait for him? He didn’t even show up to tell you that, to give you the chance to reassure him how much you love him. He just decided that it was better for him to leave you hanging?

“That’s bullshit, Bucky.” you spat. “You left me hanging because you thought you were weighing me down and the next time I see you, you’re with Sharon now. Who by the way, used to date your best friend. I don’t understand any of this.” you told him.

Bucky looked at the ground as he evened out his breathing. There were a few seconds of silence between the two of you. Only heavy breaths and the distant sound of the music from the gala lingered in the air. It was almost comforting. Almost.

“Sharon and I...it wasn’t easy for us when Steve left. It was something that we both had in common. We wanted to fix ourselves and in the process we just...it happened. I didn’t mean for it but it just happened.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

The pain was replaced with grief and then anger. A little sympathy was thrown in the mix too upon hearing Bucky’s reason but now you were back to square one. Pain.

“You worried for her when Steve left but didn’t worry about me when you chose to leave me hanging? You told me you needed to fix yourself alone because you didn’t want to hurt me in the process of doing so. Guess what, Bucky? You hurt me all the same. Even more so when you chose to stay for Sharon and when you allowed her to help you fix yourself.”

Bucky remained silent as he simply gazed at you and let you say your piece. You just couldn’t understand where he truly was coming from. You knew about his insecurities and you accepted each one of them. You’d wholeheartedly accepted Bucky from the moment you knew you loved him, that included his flaws and demons, even on days he hated himself.

“Don’t shut me out like that again, please?” You asked Bucky, when he finally let you inside his room after isolating himself for days.

He had those days, when he couldn’t bring himself to come out and just...live. He’d push people away and torture himself with negative thoughts. But you always stayed no matter what.

“‘m sorry doll, I just...sometimes...I love you so much but sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough of it to actually show you. And you don’t deserve that.” He explained.

You smiled and cupped his cheek, “That’s okay, Bucky. I love you and the amount of love I have for you is more than enough for both of us.”

Was your love not enough for him all along? For him not to consider how you would feel if he just decided not to come home to you anymore? You shouldn’t be blaming yourself for everything, you did your part. But you couldn’t help but wonder whether it was because of you that Bucky chose to walk away.

“I love you, I really do. And you deserve the best and I’m not...that. I chose to let you go so you can have that.”

“I don’t need the best version of you, Bucky!” You quickly cut him off. “I just need you.” You added.

When Bucky decided to leave to get better, you let him even though you hated to see him walk away. You’d be selfish not to, especially when Bucky was finally free to decide things for himself. It was for the best, but honestly speaking, you didn’t want a better version of him.

Whether it was the Winter Soldier or James Buchanan Barnes, whatever version of him he’d give to you, you love Bucky all the same.

You love Bucky so much that it was so painful for you to hear that he actually thought you’d be happier without him.

“You don’t deserve someone as damaged as me. Even if I got better, I’m still struggling and I don’t want to make things hard for you.” Bucky said.

“And you don’t get to decide what you think I deserve! You don’t get to abandon me like I was nothing, like we were nothing to you.” You seethed.

Bucky looked away, blinking his tears away as he tried to compose himself. His jaw tensed as he looked at you with an apologetic gaze.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me. You didn’t have to.” He said the same thing to you when he left, and it hurt just as much.

“I love you. I’ll wait, Bucky.” You murmured and tugged at his hand before he could even let you go.

Bucky smiled sadly at you, “You don’t have to, doll.”

You shook your head and brought Bucky’s hand to your lips as you cried, “I want to. And I will.”

“I know. But in all those years you were gone, I woke up each day and chose to wait for you. I always chose you, Bucky.” You said with a sad smile.

You stumbled a bit and lifted your dress enough to reveal your bleeding foot. You’d walked that long, for your feet to get wounded and ironically, you couldn’t feel anything but the pain of seeing Bucky again. He tried to approach you and help you out but you waved a hand and kept him at an arm’s length away from you. You removed your shoes and straightened up, looking at Bucky and his ocean blue eyes for one last time.

“I’m sorry if you felt like you weren’t enough. You’re more than enough for me, Bucky. I really thought that I could love and fight for the both of us, but I guess not.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else, and you hoped he would. It might have been pathetic of you to wish that he’d come back to you, but you really hoped he would say something to fight for you. He didn’t and that was enough for you to make a decision.

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

You bit your lower lip as you turned around, holding back your tears as you jogged back into the gala. You walked past everyone in the crowd in a hurry, wanting to head home as quickly as possible. And then you came face to face with someone you weren’t prepared to confront.

It’s as if time stopped when you saw her, Sharon. She must have found out about your presence. Did she know of Bucky’s decision to abandon you? You wondered how she helped Bucky better himself, why he let her stay as he fixed himself.

Why Bucky chose to be with her instead of coming home to you.

You could feel your chest constrict again, the pain continuing to consume you whole. If you stayed any longer, you were afraid you might break.

“Do you love him?” You asked her softly.

Without missing a beat, Sharon nodded her head. “I do.” She whispered.

“How much?” You asked again.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.” Sharon responded and you could feel the sincerity in her statement.

The way she said it wasn’t meant to hurt you nor mock you. It was reassuring, in fact. Like she was making you a promise that she was going to take good care of Bucky the same way you did. Maybe even more. You swallowed as you nodded, forcing a small smile before looking away to wipe a tear that slipped.

“That’s good.” You simply said. “Because I’d do anything for him too.”

Anything. Even if that meant walking away and giving up on a battle that you’d already lost the moment Bucky decided to abandon you.

-

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