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samkerrworshipper · 4 months

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The Last Time (exile pt.2) | Alexia Putellas x Reader

part 2 to exile

summary: Alexia tries to apologise to r after what happened at the club… another songfic based off the song the last time by taylor swift

warnings: none besides a whole lot of angst :(

Alexia knows a lot of things.

She knows how to play soccer, she knows how to speak English, Spanish and Catalan, she knows how to make some of the best paella in Barcelona thanks to her mother, she knows how to dance, she knows how to have some fun.

She also knows that you are the best thing that has ever happened to her.

It’s a fact, because Alexia was a mess before you, fresh out of a break up with Jenni, who she never really saw herself staying with but also never saw herself breaking up with.

There are some people like Alexia thinks, people that you love, but they aren’t your person. Sometimes those relationships are the ones that hurt the most.

Alexia knows that she’s fucked up more than she ever has before, she’s stripped you of your dignity and the respect in your relationship.

Eli told her as much, her mother taking your side as Alexia sobbed into her phone explaining just how badly she had messed up and how she had to fix it.

Alexia knew she was right, but she was also frightfully aware that she was fairly intoxicated, and she didn’t want to ruin your night anymore by showing up at your doorstep.

So, she timidly stepped back into the bar, taking in how a lot of the team had exited the dance floor, Jenni appeared to be gone, something Alexia was grateful for.

Before she could properly step into the space, Mapi was coming out of nowhere and clutching onto Alexia’s forearm, dragging her out of the club as quickly as humanly possible.

Before Alexia could ask any questions, all the air was exiting her lungs as she was slammed up against the brick wall of the outside of the club.

Mapi’s arm had come to rest flat against her chest, pressing her directly into the cold concrete.

“What the actual fuck was that.”

Mapi’s voice is seething, and sure, she’s Alexia’s best friend in the entire world, but you are also Ingrid and Mapi’s adoptive daughter, when it comes to protecting you they do it fiercely.

Alexia can’t do much besides burst into tears, she feels weak, stupidly weak, she doesn’t deserve to be crying, not after what she just did to you, but she can’t help herself, everything is too much.

Mapi eases up a little bit, her arm falling from Alexia’s chest, down to her stomach and bringing her in for a hug, it’s clear that Alexia is pretty tipsy, and she decides she’ll save the yelling for when she can fully appreciate it.

“C’mon, let’s get you home, Ingrid’s sober, she’ll drive.”

Alexia looks behind Mapi, to find her girlfriend lingering behind the two of them, a deep frown of anger and disappointment on her face.

It makes Alexia sick to her stomach, like she’s been punched in the gut repetitively, she probably deserves it, especially after what she just did to you.

She allows Mapi to lead her to a car, her body crumpling into the backseat, the thoughts of the last hour circling in her mind repetitively, like a record stuck on replay.

Drunken, heartbroken Alexia forces herself to make a promise in the back of Mapi’s car, this is the last time.

The last time she puts her feelings above yours, the last time she thinks without acting, the last time she disregards your relationship with such ease.

If for some miracle, she can manage to claw her way back into your life, then she promises herself she will never let this happen again, this will be the first and only time that she goes behind your back, this will be the last time that she treats you like you aren’t enough, this is the last night she will lie to you.

It seems empty, in the context, but Alexia doesn’t care, as far as she’s concerned this is rock bottom, this is the worst thing that has ever happened to her, and she’ll be damned if she lets you slip out of her hands without putting up a fight.

Never again will she allow you to push your feelings under the rug, she is never going to hide all of your problems away like they don’t matter.

When they do make it back to Ingrid and Mapi’s apartment, it’s clear Ingrid is fuming, Alexia can’t really blame her.

So Mapi is on clean up, dragging a zoned out Alexia into the apartment, throwing her into the guest bedroom with some Advil and water on her bedside.

It’s the bare minimum, it’s what Alexia deserves, Mapi doesn’t comfort her, she just gives her the look, the ‘you’ve seriously fucked up and I won’t lie to you about it’ look, it’s a look that previously Alexia had used on Mapi, before Ingrid, before Mapi got her shit together.

She leaves Alexia to wallow in her hangover and depression, deep down Mapi knows it’s what's best, even if it hurts her, she knows from personal experience that sometimes it’s best to hold yourself accountable for your actions, and she knows Alexia will.

Alexia manages to tug her clothes off, the items harbouring memories that make Alexia gag, she manages to crawl into the unfamiliar sheets of the bed and tumble into an alcohol induced sleep.

It’s not a good sleep, the kind of sleep where no matter how long you stay unconscious for, you seem like you are teetering on the edge of waking up again.

It’s why Alexia can’t sleep anything past 6am, which is her normal wake up time, on every day but a Monday, Monday’s are the one day of the week where Alexia allows herself to sleep in, because typically the only thing that happens on a Monday is video review in the afternoon, but that had been cancelled because Jona had some family commitment.

She crawls out of bed, finding a spare hoodie and shorts on the dresser in the room and tugging them on before walking into the living room.

To her surprise, Ingrid is already sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands, Bagheera in her lap and a laptop sitting on the counter in front of her.

“There is coffee in the pot.”

Ingrid’s voice is stiff, something so unusual for the brunette, normally she is all things warm and kind, it’s why Alexia believes she compliments Maria so well, she mellows out all of Mapi’s bluntness and contradictiveness.

Alexia tiptoes over to the pot, pouring herself a cup and then tentatively taking a seat at the table after Ingrid eyeballed the seat beside her.

She closes the laptop once Alexia has sat down, all of the Norwegians attention turning to Alexia, unfortunately.

“What you did last night was quite frankly disgusting. Your wife, my best friend, has put seven years of her life into you, you fall on her for anything you like, everything in your relationship is her problem, and for whatever reason she puts up with it, I know if it was me I wouldn’t put up with an inch of it, but she does, because that's who she is. She was holding on to one thing, you give away every single part of you, but she had something, a little piece of hope and last night you took it away from her. In fact, you practically stomped on that hope right in front of her. You don’t deserve her, you don’t deserve to walk on the ground that she does. I don’t care if you're my captain, or that you are La Reina or Alexia Putellas, you do not get to treat the person that loves you very most in the world like a piece of lint on a sweater. You dust her off at every single opportunity you can, and she just sits by, allowing you to, because she loves you, a lot more than you deserve.”

Alexia tries to say something, agree with Ingrid, because she does agree, everything Ingrid is saying is true, Ingrid stops her though, continuing her rant.

“For whatever reason, one I do not understand, she loves you, she talks about you like you created the moon and the stars, you make her happier than anybody else. That is why I am telling you that you have to make this right. Fuck Jenni, fuck you, fuck your fucked up ways. You need to fix this because she is going to be broken if you just give up. If anyone deserves to have their heart broken it’s you, so I don’t care if you have to die for her, you owe her that for all of the shit that you’ve forced her to put up with over the years. Last night might have been the straw that broke the camel's back, but you’ve been disloyal in every single way besides cheating up until last night, and if you love her at all, you will make it right. Nobody deserves to be loved more than she does, and if you don’t prove to her that you love her then she will spend every minute left of her life on earth gutted about it.”

Ingrid’s words are cut throat, so brutal that it takes Alexia a few seconds to absorb them all.

“Ingrid, she told me that she wanted a divorce, that she didn’t want to be married to a woman who broke vows, I can’t blatantly disregard her wants.”

Ingrid just rolled her eyes.

“Of course she doesn’t, so prove to her that you aren’t that woman, that it was a mistake and that it will never happen again, and I swear to every single god that exists that if it ever happens again, mark my words, you will be six feet under and nobody will be finding your body, understood?”

It’s a threat that normally Alexia would find humorous, but the way Ingrid says it makes Alexia fairly certain that the Norwegian is fairly serious. Ingrid is innocent, Ingrid is a sweetheart, Ingrid is kittens and all things sweet and nice, apparently until you hurt someone she loves.

“Do you know where she is?”

Ingrid takes a deep sip from her coffee.

“I talked to Keira and Lucy last night, they took her back to their apartment, said she was practically catatonic and refused to speak to them, just cried and sat on their couch with Narla.”

It’s a sad image, the pit of guilt in Alexia’s stomach only seems to continue to grow the more information she’s fed.

“They live two blocks away from here, right?”

Ingrid nods hesitantly, with the confirmation Alexia is shooting out of her seat, rushing towards the door of Mapi and Ingrid’s apartment, Ingrid is far to tired and fed up with the whole situation to try and stop her, even with the negative feeling that’s pooling up in her gut, she figures Alexia is a big girl though, and if she’s going to make time to atone for her sins there's no time like the present.

Alexia’s fast paced walk is fueled by one thing: fear.

Fear she’s lost you forever, fear she’s made the biggest mistake in her life, fear that one stupid fucking kiss could be the end of her life as she knows it.

It doesn’t take her very long to navigate her way through the Barcelona streets to Lucy’s apartment, Alexia and Barcelona are practically synonymous.

She grew up on these streets, she knows them better than anything in the world, she knows them better than she knows you.

Which almost makes her hurl, at what point did her wife, her lover, her heart become somebody that she doesn’t know, when did you stop becoming her priority?

Find myself at your door

Just like all those times before

I’m not sure how I got here

All roads, they lead me here

I imagine you are home

In your room, all alone

And you open your eyes into mine

Everything feels better

Alexia somehow finds her way to Keira and Lucy’s apartment, she’s been her hundreds of times, team bonding, dinners, movie nights, coffee catch ups. Lucy and Keira are also two people who you heavily rely on, often Alexia’s innately grateful for the two of them, because she can always trust that whilst the two of you are separated for national duties that you are in good company.

She knocks on the door, powerful, unyielding, confident. All things that Alexia is definitely not feeling.

She waits a maximum of three seconds, before she’s met with a frazzled looking Keira, who is still dressed in her pyjamas and looks like she hasn’t slept a single bit.

“Leave.”

Keira’s voice is scratchy, dry and weirdly fearful.

“I need to talk to my wife.”

Alexia doesn’t know why she uses the honorific, she hardly ever refers to you as anything but your name, but it's some sort of safety blanket for herself, a reminder that technically, according to a piece of paper the two of you are still married.

“Alexia, leave, she doesn’t want to see you and I don’t want you to get hurt when my girlfriend finds out you are here.”

Alexia grimaces at the thought of Lucy, who she knows will have far less restraint then Ingrid and Maria when it comes to defending your honour.

She relents though, Alexia has walked out the door one too many times, she knows it, and she won’t allow this time to be just another time that Alexia’s failed to show up for you.

“Keira, I won’t leave until I get to see her.”

Keira rakes her hand through the roots of her hair.

“Look, she’s been torn up about what happened all night, didn’t catch a wink of sleep, neither did Luce or I because we were so worried that if we left her she’d jump off our balcony or do something stupid. I’m sure you didn’t sleep well either, so how about you come back tomorrow or something, when she’s feeling up to it.”

Alexia pities Keira just a little bit, it’s Alexia’s fault that she looks like shit, everything is Alexia’s fault.

“Keira, please, I just need to see her, I know I fucked up, trust me, nobody knows it more than I do, I just need to see her, and apologise. You can kick me out afterwards, just please, let me say my peace.”

Keira’s jaw sets, and for a moment Alexia sees a different side to Keira, it scares her just a little bit.

“I hardly think you deserve any of her time, you don’t deserve her time or forgiveness.”

Alexia is about to agree with Keira, but the both of them are silenced by a voice.

“Kei, let her say what she has to say.”

And right before your eyes

I’m breaking

No past, no reasons

Just you and I

Just the sight of you brings tears to Alexia’s eyes.

There are big, puffy, red bags underneath your eyes, your makeup from the previous night smeared and mixed all over yourself.

You look so incredibly raw, like a piece of art, and it pains Alexia so much that she’s the reason for all of your pain, that her fucked up decisions have made you so broken.

“We’re waiting.”

Alexia’s brain snaps into order, all of her thoughts circulating as she tries to articulate what she needs to say to you.

This is the last time I’m asking you this

Put my name at the top of your list

This is the last time I’m asking you why

You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye

You find yourself at my door

Like all those times before

“Please, I know I fucked up last night. And it’s not the first time that I’ve put myself above you in the last little while, and you deserve better, you deserve so much better. But I do love you, I loved you enough to marry you, I loved you enough to make you a Putellas and I don’t regret that. I don’t love Jenni, I don’t want her, I don’t think about her like I think about you. I know, I broke your heart, a heart that I promised I would protect, that I’d care for. I know that I’ve asked too much of you, asked for you to forgive me of too much, you deserve better. Please, let this be the last time, I promise, I swear on my mothers life, that if you give me a chance, I will make this the last time. I know we’ve been here hundreds of times, and you have no reason to trust me, but please, give me a chance.”

Your facial expression doesn’t change, it’s spacey, sort of like you’re on a different wavelength.

Alexia’s toes are scuffing against the doormat, her hand resting on the door frame as she looks at you, with tears and desperation in her eyes.

“Little while? Alexia the last time you told me you loved me when it wasn’t for cameras or show was two years ago. When we took the trip to Ibiza before your break out season started, as soon as the award started rolling in, I didn’t matter, how could I? I didn’t marry La Reina, I married Alexia Putellas Segura, the woman who loved me, you aren’t that person anymore.”

You wear your best apology

But I was there to watch you leave

And all the times I let you in

Just for you to go again

Disappear when you come back

Everything is better

“Please, Y/n/n.”

Your face is unwavering, and for once Alexia doesn’t feel weak for being the one breaking down, it feels deserved, considering how many times the tables have been turned and you’ve broken down in front of Alexia because of her words and actions.

“No, you do not get to show up here with some perfect fucking apology to try and worm your way back into my life. It’s not fair Alexia Putellas, because you know I love you, you know that I would follow you to the ends of the earth, you know that I would give up every single part of myself for you. But I have watched you walk out the door so many times, and every single time I’ve let you back in, I’ve let you disappear whenever its been most convenient for you and act like everything is fine when you return. I put up with that, because I am a good fucking wife and I love you, more than is healthy. You are my everything, you are my world, and I would have died knowing you didn’t love me as much, because loving you was enough for me. But knowing that you loved Jenni enough to give her something so sacred to me, it felt like you ripped my heart out of my chest and cut it to pieces in front of my eyes. The worst part is, I still fucking love you, you could kill a hundred people or move to Antarctica and it wouldn’t matter, because I love you, unconditionally and it hurts. So please, for me, walk away, because if you don’t I’ll forgive you, and then you’ll worm your way back into my life, and it’ll hurt even more because I’ll be going against my beliefs and wishes.”

And right before your eyes

I’m aching

Run fast, nowhere to hide

Just you and me

Suddenly, tears are dripping down Alexia’s face, it hurts so bad to hear what you are saying, it feels like she’s being stabbed.

Having you hate Alexia is one thing, but having you love her but ask her to leave is the worst possible thing.

Alexia wants to runa way from the door, to leave you, leave this awkward fucking situation which Keira is directly in the middle of, but she can’t, not when your staring at Alexia like it’s physically hurting you to do so.

This is the last time I’m asking you this

Put my name at the top of your list

This is the last time I’m asking you why

You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye

“Please just let this be the last time, let it be the last time I fuck up, let this be the last time I hurt you.”

Alexia’s voice is pleading, begging, hoping.

“Sure, this is the last time you hurt me, this is the last time, because there won’t be any more times between us, we’re done Alexia.”

This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong

This is the last time I say it's been you all along

This is the last time I let you in my door

This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore

Alexia is balling now, big, wet, fat tears sloppily falling down her face as she processes the emotions and current conversation.

“Alexia, it’s been you all along for me, and I was okay with that, even if it was painful, even if you could never reciprocate. But this is the last time I open my door to you, this is the last time you hurt me. So leave, please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

Alexia’s feet feel rooted to the floor, her toes curling into the doormat below her feet.

“Alexia, leave, before we call security.”

It’s Lucy’s bigger body, now shielding you from Alexia that sends the order, and before Alexia can say anything more, the door of the apartment is slammed in her face, and she’s left standing in front of a white door, with tears streaming down her face as she mourns her marriage that’s slipped out from under her, all because she was fucking stupid.

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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months

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Sooo idk if u take requests and this is super angst but it’s been in my mind. Kinda like ghosts and mirages can u write a fic where jay finds readers (his gf) notebook and sees that she’s suicidal? And how he stops her? If this is too much angst I get it. Mwah !

TW: Suicide/self harm/mentions of attempts. STRONG topics, this was difficult to write but if it brings comfort to someone in need, I hope so. Please be advised.

- -

Before Jason was killed, he had natural ideas of death, as did everyone else.

What did heaven look like? Was it a fluffy clouded paradise? Would people find eternal happiness sitting by crystallize rivers glimmering in the sun, feasting on ripe fruits like Adam and Eve had done before them?

Everyone’s ideals were different, Jason’s had always changed. However, he liked the idea of this heaven, enjoying the possibilities of seeing his old pets running to him once the time came.

Just like the torch passed from one Robin to the next, things unexpectedly change.

When Jason died, there was nothing.

No heaven, no hell, no happiness. Maybe God held his soul on standby because he knew he’d return to the living. He wasn’t happy about it for the longest time.

Luckily, a piece of heaven blessed itself in a person such as yourself. Your smile as bright as sunshine, your heart as sweet and pure as gold. He’s never met anyone so happy, so free spirited and optimistic.

He didn’t mean to read it. He really didn’t.

He watched you write in journals all the time, ripping out pages when it came to grocery lists or phone numbers to shove in your backpack before leaving the door. He was only looking for a shopping list you texted him to take a photo of, only to come across the tragedies you’ve dealt with and still carry.

His heart absolutely shattered when he reads the vivid darkness of your sorrows embodied within the pages of your private journal. A painful burn forming deep in his chest, right in his own heart.

What worried him the most was your latest entry, dated on a Monday in fresh ink. Monday. Yesterday.

When you came home in question as to why Jason never sent you that list, you didn’t expect him to be sitting in the living room. His head hung low, his hands clenched together in desperation.

He didn’t bother to say anything. He didn’t need to.

Your journal, your cursed, dark brown journal was sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

Your silence screams out to him, his head turning to acknowledge your presence. He stands slowly, watching you carelessly drop your backpack onto the floor, looking absolutely horrified at what’s to come.

“Jason,” you say, staying right where you were at the door. “Stop. Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He asks, staring at you with somber eyes.

“Stop that,” you instantly reply, feeling your heart beat much faster. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that!” You exclaim, your breathing growing more frantic. “Like I’m ... like there’s something wrong with me! Cut it out! Stop it!”

“I’m not—!” Jason’s voice accidentally raised, forcing himself to hold his tongue, his hands balled tightly by his sides.

“There’s nothing wrong with you baby,” He begins to say, only met with your shaking head.

“No, y’know what? Don’t bother,” you reply, quickly reaching for your keys.

You weren’t going to take that kind of conversation from anyone else ever again. The same, horrid words you’ve heard from your parents, your siblings, your friends.

You’re sick. How could you do this? What’s wrong with you? You need to be locked up somewhere.

Bold, accusatory statements that hurt worse than any knife ever could.

“You read it. It wouldn’t be sitting there if you hadn’t! I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you tell me that I’m—“

“Just stop!” He rips the keys from your hands, taking you by surprise at how fast he reached you. He nearly traps you against the door, hands grasping firmly along your shoulders.

“There’s nothing, baby!” He states right to your face, making your eyes grow wide. “There’s nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing. I won’t let you think there is, get that shit out of your head right now!”

“B-but,” you start to babble, thick tears heading in the borders of your eyes. “I- I just -“

“You’re not crazy,” he interrupts, cradling your face in his heavy, trembling hands. “You’re not sick. Theirs nothing wrong with you, y’hear me? Nothing! Not a damn thing!”

Jason exhales a pained laugh, his own eyes spewing with tears. “Take it from me, babygirl. I’ve already died once, I’ll die again if you think like this.”

Speechless stole your ability to think, your ability to breathe. Your throat constricts around an invisible ball of molten steel, making you choke on your tears.

“I know you don’t wanna go, Princess,” Jason’s voice grows softer, both his thumbs making work in wiping your tears. “I know you don’t. You’re just tired, baby. That’s all.”

Slowly, you find yourself nodding, watching him nod with you.

“I’m tired,” you admit, gasping heavily in your newly weakened vulnerability. “I’m so tired, Jason.”

He holds you close to his body, clutching you as if saving you from a devastating fall. He knows this pain all too well, and you’ve saved him from it.

“I know,” he exhales, keeping you from withering away in the safety of his arms. “I gotcha now, okay baby? M’not going anywhere, jus’ let it out. I’m a big guy, I can take it.”

His biggest regret was letting those entries fill up three quarters of the journal. How many more did you fill up before then? How much pain do you carry in your heart that you need to hide via forcefully brighter smiles?

He wasn’t going to let this go on much longer. He needed you to know that someone in this harsh world understood the exhaustion, and that it was okay.

He didn’t know if Heaven or Hell truly existed, or if it was all just some huge hole of dark nothingness. He didn’t want you finding out either, feeling he’d be torn at the idea of bringing you to a Lazarus pit, but relenting on the possible side effects you’d suffer for it.

You deserved nothing of what Jason experienced, the man himself now feeling hellbent to protect you from it.

There wasn’t going to be any attempt, because Jason would do everything in his damn power to make sure that never, ever fucking happens.

Medications were locked, except the essentials, which even he supervised. He’d order from your favorite restaurants for a short while, preventing any use of kitchen cutlery.

He’d dote, making sure you kept your hygiene maintained. He’d enjoy sitting beside you outside the tub while you bathed, reading to you to keep you company. Though on certain days, you’d find his eyes flicker from the paper towards your hands when you had to use a razor, which even he was iffy about, and hid once you were done.

He never said he didn’t trust you, but don’t really be surprised if your razor is replaced with hair removal cream for the first few weeks.

If you were comfortable enough to seek out therapy, he’d offer up numbers of therapists he’s visited and trusted, helping you keep up schedules. After each session, he’d surprise you with flowers and boba on a park walk, or drive outside of Gotham.

Progress would be made, but progress wouldn’t move forward without your weak moments.

You’d have your days where your motivation was as stubborn as Jason’s mentality, refusing to listen to the things he said, or not bothering to get dressed for your next scheduled session.

Depression is horrid, but he understood. He was the most patient man you knew, cradling your body close to his in the middle of the night, muffling your minutes of screaming sobs against his chest, gently prying your hands away from your forearms when you dig your nails in a little too deep.

He’d remain awake as long as he had to, cradling your hands in his until your agony mellowed out, lulling you back to sleep. He was being the person he wished he had by his side long before he met you, back when he was alone and had no one.

Jason looked forward to the days you’d smile again, genuine happiness being a fuel to those pleasant flames. It’s okay if it would take a long time, keep giving him your tears. He can handle it.

You were the greatest gift he’s ever gotten in this fucked up world, not even you were going to take it away from him.

- -

I don’t know what death is like, nor do I know of all beliefs everyone has of them, but I do know about suicidal thoughts/intentions and having experienced them, please know, as tired as you may be, it isn’t worth it. My inbox is open if you ever need it. Dosent matter if you’re a stranger, let’s not be ❤️

#this hurt #jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #dc jason todd #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd dc #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x plus size reader #angst #heavy angst #tw self destruction #tw sui implied

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conradfiisher · 9 months

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And I hate the thought of you looking back on the night the we spent here together and regretting what we did.

The Summer I Turned Pretty || 2.07

#tsitpedit #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #belly conklin #conrad fisher #belly x conrad #usercallie #usertina #usermariie #userrobin #usermillena #usersophie #jackpearcsn #gifs #mine #this hurt

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tealeavesandthorns · 6 months

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"are you okay?" (I couldn't resist and I am not sorry)

୧‿︵‿︵ Send me "are you okay?" for my muse to look down and realize that they've been shot somewhere. You can specify where they've been shot if you'd like. -@dontcxckitup

A hiss left her at the sharp pain that took hold of her, like a stinger almost. She would have put it down to nothing, residual pain from scar tissue or something but as Gareth turned to look at her and the burning intensified Maria looked down, pulling her hand away to reveal the red blossoming along her coat, beneath it was worse.

"There's a shooter." Maria said looking up and around. The next building over, top left." She said, they'd been walking along in front of Whitehall. "Gareth, I-" Maria started as the pain intensified.

#;answered #dontcxckitup #//OMFG HOW DARE YOU #THIS HURT

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hisnamesdylan · 2 months

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”You won’t stick around too long,sweetheart. Not when you find out what he’s really like.”

— Quill Kipps

Lucy: proceeds to not stick around because she did in fact find out what he’s really like (reckless with a death wish bound to get himself killed, especially if it means protecting her).

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unhelpfulfemme · 17 days

Video

youtube

My dream died, and now I'm here

#youtube #science #academia #this hurt

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tripthelightfandomtastic · 8 months

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FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

#this hurt #im gonna lose it #gvf #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #jake gvf #josh gvf #danny gvf #sam gvf

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artandbooknook · 27 days

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Nesta and her child self

This was a quick drawing just for this audio tbh

Art by me - artandbooknook 🫶🏻

#fanart #sarah j maas fanart #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acotar fandom #acotar #nesta archeron #nesta acosf #pro nesta #nesta deserves better #this hurt #lady death #sjm books

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dreaminghelaena · 6 months

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#this hurt #sorry #asoiaf #sansa stark #arya stark #a song of ice and fire #house stark #sisterhood #stark sisters #winterfell #webweaving #valyrianscrolls #starklings

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

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For the 1 sentence, 5 sentence challenge, if you have the time:

“No war will stop me from coming back to you…”

With reader saying it to Natasha

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

“No war will stop me from coming back to you…,” you smile as bright as the sun beating down on your dirtied face, and blow a sweet kiss before reluctantly closing the video out., “I’ll be home soon, I love you Natty-Bear.”

Natasha sobs as she closes her laptop, the last video she ever received from you fades into nothingness; her heart succumbs to a similar fate as she slips further into the bottomless pit of grief.

“Why’d you have to go detka?,” she begs for a reason, “We weren’t finished yet,” her lip trembles, “Come back to me, please.”

She sobs even harder when seeing her reflection in the glass of your flag case, her eyes are sunken in, and her overall appearance is mussed up, which is to be expected when you’re forcefully staring at a plaque memorializing your adored fiancée.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” she brokenly whispers as her finger traces over the indented inscription, “It was supposed to become Romanoff…”

Natasha falls back into the mattress in a state of total despondence, tears seep into the sheets with familiarity as she slips into a restless sleep, where she’ll be burdened with dreams of a future she’ll never be able to reach.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #1 vs 5 challenge #ouch #this hurt

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cabby-cat · 8 months

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oh god please

#THIS HURT #i miss juanaflippa #juanaflippa my beloved #qsmp #qsmp fanart #qsmp eggs #qsmp juanaflippa #juanaflippa fanart #art #artists on tumblr #cabbycat art

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girl-next-door-writes · 1 year

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Bittersweet Memories

Characters: Crowley x reader

Summary: Crowley makes the ultimate sacrifice, but not before discovering just how much of a sacrifice it actually is.

Word Count: 1022 words

Prompt: Mutual pining, a gentle kiss, blurted out confession under stress.

A/N: This little bit of angst is for the lovely @roseblue373 It’s been a hot minute since I wrote my favourite demon, and I can say that I have missed him. There will not be a part two unless you want to go write one, and if you do then please tag me in it because I would love to see it.

If there was one thing Crowley was absolutely certain of, it was that life was rarely fair. The odds were always stacked. The house always won. In the incredibly long time, he had been on this planet, he had observed that fact over and over again. Yet, standing here in this moment, he couldn’t help but wish that wasn’t the case, that a demon in love could prove to be the exception to the rule.

He had known he was in love for years now, he wasn’t completely oblivious. At first, he had tried to deny it. The thought of a demon feeling such an emotion was ludicrous, but there was no other explanation for his feelings towards you. His desire to protect you, to be near you, to be the reason for your smile, was so overwhelming that he sometimes sat on his throne down in hell with an ache in his chest. Of course, he could never tell you any of this. Aside from the intense humiliation the whole situation would cause when you inevitably rejected him, it would not be fair to ask you to join him; wouldn’t be fair to ask you to give up your life for him.

The irony of that thought made the corners of his lips curl upwards slightly. The two of you would never have worked out anyway. It would be like asking a tree to blossom in the depths of winter, or for the sun to shine at midnight. There were a million reasons for him to love you, but he could not find a single one why you should love him. Loving you from the shadows was all he could do, and that had been enough. Now he had to hope that you could do this without him.

You stood beside Dean, eyes focused on Lucifer. Surely your favourite demon had a plan, that was the only reason you could think of for him antagonizing the former archangel. His snarky comments usually made you laugh, but right now all you could hear was the pounding of your heart. In the back of your mind, it felt like there was a ticking clock, a countdown to something that would change everything forever. Your gaze flitted to Crowley, trying to memorize every detail of him as if you knew this would be the last time.

Crowley turned his head slightly, feeling you watching him. If he stayed, if he wavered in this moment, then he would only be in your way and he refused to be yet another obstacle for you to navigate. Better to go out swinging, right? This was for you. Everything he did was for you. Memories of the time spent by your side floated through his mind. Every time he had made you smile, each time his sarcasm had made you laugh, made a warmth bloom in his chest. He had no idea where he would go after this, was uncertain about the void he was about to willingly fall into, but he hoped that he could hold onto these memories, no matter how bittersweet they may be.

His eyes met yours, and he saw the moment you realised what he was doing. Your eyes clouded with tears he felt guilty you would shed for him. Who cries for a demon? You could do so much better than him, he was never what you needed, if anything, his friendship probably held you back. You moved to take a step towards him, and he shook his head, just a fraction, causing you to pause. He didn’t want you any closer to the psychopath than you already were. This was it. His last great sacrifice. His last time saving you.

Lucifer was taunting him, but Crowley couldn’t hear a single thing he said. His heart was torn between getting this over with and having that one last moment with you. He was reminded of all those stupid films you had made him sit through, the ones that made you cry, and it dawned on him that you needed a real goodbye. If he didn’t give you that then you would never forgive him, and he selfishly couldn’t allow that.

Turning his back on Lucifer, a dangerous move but one he felt apathetic about, Crowley strode over to you and cupped your face as a single tear escaped your eye. Wiping it away with his thumb, he gave you a soft smile.

“It’s time, kitten.” He whispered, maintaining eye contact even though his heart was breaking.

“No.” You whimpered, clinging to his jacket.

“That’s the thing about the good old days, you don’t realise you’re in them until they are over. It’s time for you to go get your happy ever after.”

“Not without you I can’t.” The tears were freely flowing now as you tried to hold yourself together, practically begging him not to do what the both of you knew he was going to. “I love you, you infuriating demon.”

Your confession hit him like a truck. You loved him. He was worthy of your love. The realization that this changed nothing, was like an ice cube dropped down the back of his shirt. You loved him, and he was leaving you forever.

Crowley had no idea how long he had stood there just gaping at you. A thousand thoughts sprinted through his mind and yet words escaped him, like early morning mist. Instead, he let out a soft sigh and pulled you close, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip before he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss there. Everything in his being suddenly felt at peace, and a smile grew as he pulled back.

“You have been the great love of my life. I want you to go find yours. Goodbye, kitten.”

He was vaguely aware of you screaming, of Dean moving to grab you as Crowley quickly made his way over to Lucifer, raising the dagger. His final thought, before the void took him, was how soft your lips caressed his and how completely human he had felt in that moment. His final thought was love.

#Crowley x reader #spn #fergus macleod #gndw fic #sorry not sorry #this hurt

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skyrim-forever · 2 months

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found the perfect job today, I fit all the qualifications, it's remote and I'm available when it starts

submitted an application only to find out they will not be a paying a salary, but stock in the company... it's a startup that's a year old...

I HATE IT HERE I HATE IT HERE I HATE IT HERE I HATE IT HERE

#eve rambles #this hurt #I was really interested in it #also master's preferred #FOR NO FUCKING MONEY???#need me the confidence of a startup fr the audacity

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helianthus21 · 2 months

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#jang han seo #jang han seok #vincenzo #my edit #video edit #it's a hard knock life #this hurt #abuse cw #made this at midnight ahjsj #this hurts more the more you watch it😮‍💨

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n3on-graveston3s-calling · 3 months

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Born to Break

Word Count: 2,454

Rating: Explicit

Characters: Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks, Benn Beckman, Yasopp, Lucky Roux, Eustass Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, Original Male Character

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Injury, Amputation, Hysteria, Canon Compliant Violence, Vomiting, Waterboarding, Attepmted Drowning, Angst,

Author's Notes: For @febuwhump 2024 Day 3: Bite Down On This.

PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS. This gets gnarly. And it's canon-compliant, taking place during the two year timeskip in which Eustass went in with two arms and came out with one. Thanks, Beckmann. With a healthy dash of KidKiller because i love them.

Oh, right. Do y'all remember that scene in episode 67 of the original Naruto series where Gaara is screaming hysterically during the exams about his blood?

Yeah. Keep that in mind for me, will you? You'll know when it comes into play.

You can also find this on my Archive.

Summary:

“Captain!” Heat called from behind them. They’d covered them in water- had splashed them once, twice, three times before ducking his head under the water of the river. Waterboarding him, drowning him, snuffing out the fire that they spewed regularly. That’s why he couldn’t help, Killer thought as Shanks relented, stepping away, blade pulling free of his throat. “Captain, get up!” Heat called out once more. “What did you do?” Killer whispered as sat up slowly, body screaming in anguish. His ribs were certainly broken; how many? He couldn’t tell, but breathing hurt, moving hurt, his arm was bloodied and oh, god, was that blood surrounding Eustass? “What did you DO?!” He howled, launching himself to his feet only to be met with the muzzle of that damned sawed off shotgun that Beckmann used.

Sometimes, you really underestimate how things will go.

The sound of footsteps was loud in the silence that followed after the clash. The movement caught Killer’s attention first; he glanced up towards Shanks, who watched with an almost smug expression. That spiked something in him, some dormant fear that prickled with anxiety, that had his hands sweating, had his heart racing in his chest. He shifted, attention turning towards where his Captain should have been. The ground was dry, too dry; dust was kicked up with every small movement. With the blood and sweat that was in his own eyes, it was hard to see, hard to make out what he was seeing.

Beckmann was walking away- no, walking towards him. That’s why Shanks was so smug, pinning him with his foot on his skull, his blade at his throat. Anytime he swallowed, the steel dug in a little more, drawing forth scarlet that trickled slowly down the length of it. His breath caught in his throat as the dust finally cleared away, giving way to… Kidd? Why was he on the ground? “What-” he croaked out, only to groan as Shanks pressed his weight into his foot. The pain was excruciating, his jaw clenching as a yell pulled free from somewhere deep within him.

“What did you do?” Killer whispered as sat up slowly, body screaming in anguish. His ribs were certainly broken; how many? He couldn’t tell, but breathing hurt, moving hurt, his arm was bloodied and oh, god, was that blood surrounding Eustass? “What did you DO?!” He howled, launching himself to his feet only to be met with the muzzle of that damned sawed off shotgun that Beckmann used.

His finger was on the trigger.

His arm was black; coated in Haki. Haki- Beckmann had Haki?

Shit. Killer blinked hard beneath the mask, trying to clear his vision. “Heat, what do you see?” He asked their third mate, who was silent. Silence was never a good answer. “Heat, answer.”

“I uh…” The waver in their voice was enough to set them all on edge. “I don’t think-”

“An arm for an arm, though your captain wasn’t the one to cost me mine.” Shanks answers in a near-chipper manner from behind him. “What will he do now? The Captain of the Kidd Pirates, beaten like a bad dog. But that’s what you all are, aren’t you?” The chuckle that escapes from Shanks is nothing short of sinister. “You come here to challenge us, to challenge me… For what reason? I have nothing to give you.”

An arm. Beckmann took Kidd’s arm.

“I-” Killer began to retaliate verbally before a sound caught their attention.

It started softly. Like a pained whine from a dog, high and reedy and nerve-grating. “My arm,” Kidd whispered, his gaze trained on the limb sitting on the ground three feet in front of him. It bled, oozing garnet onto ivory sand. He could see the bone standing out; shattered mid-way, nothing near a clean break. This wasn’t a break. That was his arm. Those were his fingers, painted black. Those were his rings.

That was his arm.

His arm.

“My arm.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he blinked once, hard. His heart was hammering in his chest so hard, he could see the remnants of his shirt moving with each beat. “My arm.” He repeated, dazedly. Adrenaline was starting to leave his bloodstream, sweating out through his pores. The pain was odd. He could feel his arm, still- no, no, he can’t. That’s only his mind thinking that he can feel it, that he can feel the sensation of his fingers twitching, of the nerves dying, of his hand growing numb and cold because the blood isn’t returning, it’s leaking out on the ground and oh, gods, that’s his FUCKING ARM. “MY ARM!” He screamed as reality set in. He reached over to the freely bleeding stump, fingers meeting torn flesh and muscle and fatty tissue that just hung limply, and shattered bone that pricked at his fingertips. “MY ARM! YOU TOOK MY ARM! MY ARM! MY ARM! MY ARM!”

“Ah, the hysterics.” Shanks hums, cleaning Gryphon on the edge of his trousers. The steel hissed as it returned to its home within the sheath.

Wire was stilled in the grasp of Lucky Roux, blood trickling down his forehead as he stared at Eustass. They took his arm? His arm ripped clean off. How the fuck did Beckmann do that? Did he have a devil fruit? Haki? He felt sick to his stomach, turning in Roux’s grasp to gag once, twice, before the bigger man released him to allow him to spill the contents of his stomach.

“I could finish him off,” Shanks offered Killer, reaching out to settle his arm around his shoulders, pulling him back against himself as if he were some friend, some companion. “What do ye say, lad? I finish off yer Captain, you lot come an’ join me and my crew?”

“Fuck you.” Killer spat, shaking in his grasp. “Fuck you.”

“Not my type.”

Beckmann snorts as he turns the gun, aiming now at Kidd. “One shot to the head, all it takes.”

“NO!” Heat screamed, pulling himself free from Yasopp, rushing forward to stand between Beckmann and his Captain, who was muttering under his breath about his arm. Hysterical; they couldn’t blame him. “Please- spare him. Spare us.” They pleaded, falling to their knees before the two men. “We won’t come after either of ye again. Just- spare him, spare his life. Please.”

Shanks and Benn study one another; a silent conversation between Captain and First Mate, something Killer was familiar with. He and Kidd did that often, knowing the other well enough to not have to use verbal language. “Fine.” Shanks shrugged, grinning as he released Killer, and stepped back. “I’m tired of this anyway. Find us in the New World, if yer Captain survives. I’d like a rematch, there. Get stronger.” Brown gaze settled upon Kidd, taking in the damage Beckmann had dealt. “You’re in the big leagues, now.”

And just like that, it was over.

Killer rushed forward, falling to his knees in the blood soaked sand before Kidd. “Eustass?” He whispered, reaching up to cup his cheeks, dragging his head up. His pupils were blown; his skin was pale with blood loss and shock. “We gotta get you up. It’s gonna hurt.”

“The arm-” Eustass tried to argue.

Killer shook his head. He didn’t argue as Heat came round the other side. It took a moment of figuring out where hands could rest before they had him up and balanced between themselves. Wire did grab the arm, wrapped it up in his jacket. The Red Haired Pirates went back towards the beach; they retreated to the town.

Eustass Kidd passed out two minutes into the walk, much to the alarm of his crew.

──────��──────────────

The next time he came to, he was laying down on a cot in what he assumed to be a doctor’s office. He blinked hard, eyes squeezing shut. Everything felt dulled; his head lulled to the right, meeting with a white wall. Huh. To the left, then. Ah, that’s better. A room! Killer is standing, talking to some dude in a white coat. Doctor, he hopes and assumes. Wire is sitting across from him in some chairs; Heat is slumped against his shoulder, their eyes closed, breathing even. Sleepy, sleepy Heat.

Eustass looks down to his torso. Bruising already beginning to bloom; he can feel a cracked rib or two, certainly. Drip, drip, drip. What was dripping? Did someone leave a faucet on? He huffed, going to sit up, only to find himself suddenly unable to. Something was holding him down. What? He frowned at the black straps that held his shoulders and chest. Why was he pinned?

“Hey, doccccc,” he drawled out, slurring his words like a drunkard. “Wha’s happenin’? Why cannae I… Shite.” He winced at the sudden flare of pain. What the fuck? “Wiiiire?”

“Eustass-” Killer began, stepping over as Wire shook his head. Heat woke up, then. Rubbed at their eyes, smearing their eye black. “You need to stay still.”

“Why?” He didn’t WANT to stay still. He needed to piss. “I need t’tae a leak.”

“You-” Killed glanced back. Wait, where was Killer’s mask? Why could he see his pretty blue eyes so clearly? Why was his lip split open? What-

The fight.

It all rushed back suddenly, playing out in the forefront of his mind. Eustass reels from the memory, from the pain that also returns in a weird, dulled form. “My arm,” he whined, head lifting to look at the bloodied bandages that covered the stump. “He took my arm!”

“I’m afraid there’s still work t’be done, lad,” the doctor murmured, coming to stand by his head. Eustass looked up, ruby gaze frantic as he searches this strange doctor’s face. His eyes were lighter than Killer’s, hair a mousy brown. “I’ve got to close you up.”

“You can’t reattach it?”

“No, laddie. I cannae.”

Oh. Kidd swallowed roughly, looked to Killer who reached up, cupped his cheek. “I’m not leaving the room.”

“Okay.”

“Bite down on this.” The doctor placed a block in his mouth. Wood, thick, slotted between his jaws to allow his teeth to clench down onto, grind into.

His breath started coming quickly, then. Chest rising and falling rapidly as Killer was forced to move, to stand at his head while the doctor moved further down. He couldn’t watch, didn’t want to watch, squeezed his eyes shut as Killer settled his hands on his shoulders.

Killer watched, instead.

He’d seen his fair share of amputations over the years. Things got bad back home; sometimes, you do what you must to survive, even if that means sawing through your own leg because it’d grown necrotic. That was the fear, here, that Kidd’s stump would grow necrotic. Stump. That’s what it was, Killer realized as the doctor- a man named Ronan- removed the wraps. Already soaked through, a small puddle on the floor had formed. The bandages landed with a harsh splat on the ground. He looked beyond, gaze settling upon the bone saw that sat on the table.

They should have called Law.

But Trafalgar was Gods know where, now. A hundred meters under the water, probably. Or less. Or more, Killer didn’t know how that weird ass yellow submarine worked.

Ronan sprayed the stump with water. Kidd hissed, whined, whimpered, wheezed at the sensation.

“Can’t we knock him out?” Heat asked from the side.

“I did. He woke up.”

“Killer?” Heat pleaded, and Killer shook his head.

“The pain will knock him out in a minute,” Ronan added as he grabbed hold of the bonesaw. “Or the shock.”

“Are you sure you’re a doctor?”

“As sure as you are that you’re a pirate.”

Killer shut up, then. Lips pressed tightly together, the bolt of pain like lightning from his split lip. His helmet had been cracked in more than one place; it would need to be repaired, eventually. But not right now. Not now. No, now-

He felt like he would puke.

The saw settled on the exposed bone. At least three inches of bone was still exposed after Ronan had cut away the “skin flaps”, as he’d referred to the loose skin. Eustass had been under for that. Ronan began to move his arm back, forth, back, forth.

The scream that escaped Eustass had every hair on Killer’s body standing on end. It warbled, high and pained and oh, Gods, he wished he would just pass out. Just pass out, pass out, pass out now. Please, Gods, please! Eustrass tried to pull away, but Killer held him in place.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Killer whispered over and over as Eustass sobbed, tears rolling from his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Captain.”

Eustass fell limp. For a brief moment, Killer assumed he’d just died. No- no, he was still breathing. It was a relief, then. He wouldn’t be able to feel any of this. The bone was cracking beneath the saw, falling away after ten minutes of consistent sawing. Ronan worked quickly, suturing and cleaning and doing things that Killer wasn’t really sure of, but the bleeding had slowed, and if Kidd died, he knew where to find this doctor.

─────────────────────

It was dark when Kidd woke again. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton, his head felt just as heavy. The bed beneath him was soft, though; it didn’t rock with the movements of waves, meaning he was ashore. He groaned softly as pain rocked through him. “Shite,” he hissed, reaching up to rub at his face.

His arm didn’t move. His left arm didn’t move.

He looked down in confusion and saw empty space and blood speckled bandages instead. That’s right- he’d lost the arm. Beckmann had ripped it off of his body. Movement drew his gaze up, watching as Killer stepped in. Maskless, bandaged, hair tied up in a messy bun. “Eus?”

“‘M awake.” He grumbled, rising up with a hiss and far more effort than it should normally take. His back settled against the headboard. “Where are we?”

“Same island we’ve been on. It’s-... It’s been a week.”

“A week?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“Kept you loaded up on pain killers. You uh…” Killer rubbed the back of his head. He had been asleep in the other room. “You needed them.”

Eustass frowned as he stared at his partner. Killer shifted his weight. “C’mere. Bed’s cold.” He huffed, watching Killer carefully climb into the right side. He didn’t wait for him to settle, leaning in against him heavily. “Beckmann ripped off my arm.”

“He did.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“We are.”

“We are gonna wipe those shitty little rodents off the map.” Eustass muttered, eyes closing. His breath started to grow uneven; the hint of a sob escaping. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill them all.”

Killer didn’t speak as he wound his arms around Eustass, pulling him close, lips pressing to his temple as Kidd broke down. Yes, they would kill Shanks, and Beckmann, and Yasopp, and Lucky Roux. They would all die for what they did to Eustass. To his Captain. His partner. His world.

Killer would make sure of it.

#febuwhumpday3 #one piece #eustass captain kidd #massacre soldier killer #febuwhump2024 #kidkiller #heat one piece #wire one piece #akagami no shanks #benn beckman #tw: graphic depictions of violence #tw: blood #tw: amputation #tw: waterboarding #post marineford #this hurt

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