bring on the next chapter

for you pt. 7 [m]

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Badboy!Taehyung, angst

Word Count: 5.3k

Originally posted by vminv

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Final

Six Months Later

You walked down the hallway of the academic building slowly, the weight of the paper in your bag causing you to drag your feet. Each footstep bringing more and more uncertainty about the next chapter of your life. You noticed that the door to your professor’s office was locked, and a small sigh of relief escaped your lips.

You didn’t want to have to explain to him how all your interviews had turned to dead ends. You didn’t want to have to explain how you were still going to be stuck in this town. Stuck in the memories of the past year when all you wanted to do was move forward. There was nothing that you wanted more than leaving. If he could leave, so could you. But instead you had gotten hired at the coffee shop in which you first met him. Left to repeat the same memories over and over again.

And as you left the building for the last time, you didn’t feel any different. The emptiness that had filled your chest the day he left was still there. You held your phone up to your ear, the familiar number having been dialed like clockwork. “We are sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.” seared through your ears after the first dial tone.

You kicked at a rock while waiting to cross the street. There was no reason for you to continue to call that number. But there was still a large part of you that hoped he would come back. That when you called his voice would saying hello on the other end. But no one had heard from him. Not you. Not the boys. It was like he had erased himself from your universe.

Taehyung crept into your mind during your most vulnerable moments. Like when the sun hit your skin in the middle of the afternoon, reminding you of the hours you would spend sitting next to him in the front seat of his car. Driving the two of you around while blasting old music and singing along so out of tune that everyone else would stare at you from their cars.

You missed him when you couldn’t get a jar open, not because he was strong enough to open them. But because you would hunch over in fits of laughter as you watched him turn red in the face while trying to open it. He wasn’t much of a muscle pig, but you thought his effort was the cutest.

He was in the worn out t-shirt hidden in the back of your closet. A piece of clothing you didn’t know you had until your nose caught the smell of his cologne the first time Mina came over to your apartment to do your laundry since you hadn’t left your bed in weeks. You had her put it down, worried that if she held it for too long you would forget what he smelled like when he held you.

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The Boxer

Chapter 1: Gone, Gone, Gone

Green hit planet side at 30 kilometers a second and bounced. Pidge, tossed from her seat, hit the windshield hard. She didn’t have time to process before Green tilted over axis and landed heavy on her flank. Pidge fell to the port wall her back smacking into the dashboard and jarring her.

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rain (reddie) ch. 7

Type: Series

Summary: Richie and Eddie had dated each other for a long time, and things had been going great - or so, they thought. After Eddie comes home to an empty apartment and a note left behind, the loving relationship of four years tragically ended. Years of never speaking to each other later, the wedding of Beverly and Ben brings everyone back together, including Eddie and Richie. Hotel room mix-ups, drunken confessions, loud arguments between several losers, bad parties, old childhood games, memories, music, love, and drama ensues over the week of preparing for the wedding.

Pairing(s): Reddie, Benverly, Stenbrough

Word count: 4.9k

Chapter warnings: There’s a bit of slight NSFW content towards the end of the chapter

A/N: i am finally bringing you guys the next chapter. i mean. just read!!! merry christmas eve folks!!!

my amazing beta @r-u-reddie did NOT read over this chapter, so it’s probably shit. i don’t like giving her last minute things. she still deserves credit for all that she’s done, however. love you!!! and let me know what you guys think!

as always, if you’re supposed to be tagged and you’re not being tagged, pls let me know! either i forgot to tag you, your username changed, or tumblr is doing some weird shit per usual. if your name is in bold, then i could not tag you.

AO3 link here

Check out the inspo tag here

The days were steaming right on by.

Time had seemed to slow when Eddie first arrived, but after day two, time sped up like a rocketship. Now they were on night four. It seemed like just yesterday when he and Richie agreed to have another go at their friendship.

In just three days, Beverly and Ben would be married.

It was all a blur in his head; There had a lot of wedding business going on, such as last minute tux and dress adjustments, and visiting the beach where Ben and Bev intended to get married. Eddie, not being apart of the wedding party, was solely a witness to the last minute mad dash.

It rained a lot unexpectedly, too. Eddie wondered if the clouds would clear up before the wedding day.

They had a lot of recreational time as well, but Beverly always made sure to leave them all exhausted by the time they would all retire to their hotel rooms for the night.

“Damn. Eddie, your nails look so good. Am I a goddess or what?” Bev squealed, holding Eddie’s nails up towards the light.

Eddie rolled his eyes playfully in response. “Yeah, they look good, Bev. You know I don’t really care for nail polish.”

“Yeah, but they’re the accent color of the wedding. You can at least pretend like you care.” She joked, a small pout on her lips as her thumb and pointer finger pinched and took the cigarette that Richie was holding out to her.

“Did you like, highlight his nails or something? I can see the shine from over here. I’m blind.” Whitney also joked from across the room, sitting on Mike’s lap who sat on the floor with the rest of them.

“Can we change this song? I hate it.” Stan mumbled this with a smirk.

Richie’s mouth dropped open, and offense was written on his face.

“That’s my song, you dick.” He glared playfully, throwing a white card in Bill and Stan’s direction as an attempt of retaliation.

They were all sat in Beverly and Ben’s master suite, hanging out after the dinner since they’d all agreed they weren’t tired.

Currently, a game of Cards of Humanity was taking place.

“Thanks for the card, Rich.” Stan teased.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway. Whitney’s got this in the bag.” Richie said bitterly. “I didn’t even want to give it to her when I was the curator, but ‘another shitty year’ as an answer to what someone wakes up to after blacking out on New Year’s Eve was gold.”

Mike laughed at Richie’s obvious disdain. “Yeah, because Whitney’s amazing, Richie. I could’ve told you that.”

In response, Whitney smiled wide and braced her hands underneath her chin as if to say ‘I know’.

Moments later, a loud yawn reverberated from Ben, and everyone’s eyes landed on him as he stretched his strong limbs out. “I’m getting tired, guys.”

“What?” Beverly’s mouth fell open, as if the words her fiance spoke were blasphemous.

“Honestly? I kinda am too, guys.” Eddie admitted through his own yawn passed by Ben, moving onto his knees. “I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

“Uhm, no! No one is going to bed yet. C’mon, don’t be old people. Let’s just play another game. How about Truth or Dare?” Beverly suggested.

A collective groan sounded around the room at this.

“Bev, how old are we, twelve?” Bill teased.

It seemed like the rest of them were also ready to retire for the night, even if they hadn’t spoken it outloud like Ben and Eddie. Their actions spoke louder; Stan was laid back on the carpeted floor, Bill was slouched over onto his own outstretched legs, and Whitney had snuggled into Mike’s neck with her eyes closed. The only one who seemed fine was Richie, but he had always been a night bird.

However, Beverly seemed undeterred by the signs of exhaust from her best friends.

“You can never go wrong with Truth or Dare. C’mon, everyone up!” Bev urged, eliciting more groans of complaint.

Still, they did as Beverly demanded and started to sit up straight again.

“I feel like we’re with Shelley again.” Mike teased. That earned a playful glare from Beverly.

Once everyone was settled back up, Beverly spoke. “I’ll start. Stan, Truth or Dare?”

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this is just a short thing based on @kxlance ‘s post (this one) and it’s so awesome and i was just thinking about it for ages so i just got inspired to write this short thing lol (which does not do the idea from the post justice, but you know, here it is)

also the cover name’s in this are horrible as I’m really tired it’s 4am here and i got woken up early by my dad’s girlfriend’s dog and my dog jumping all over me (they are so cute! and it was a lovely way to wake up but I’m super tired now) and therefore I literally couldn’t think of any betters ones - pls let me know if you have any :) 


“Have you got my list of things I want you to get from the space mall with you, Lance?” Hunk asks, sitting on the edge of Lance’s bed, leaning back on his hands. “You don’t have to get everything on it - but a few of them would be good.”

“Yup,” Lance says, trying on a knitted hat, tilting it slight to left, before frowning and throwing it away; where it lands beautifully atop Pidge’s face. He grins at Hunk in the mirror, “And I’ll get you everything, you deserve it buddy.”

“Thanks, man,” Hunk smiles, “You excited?”  

“Yeah,” Pidge adds, “Are you excited to go on your date?” They smirk when Lance’s gaze flicks to them in the mirror. They’re sprawled out on the bedroom floor, arms behind their head; a collection of Lance’s tried on, and promptly discarded disguises have been flung on top of them (for other, frankly, uncalled for comments).

“It’s not a date,” Lance says, slipping his silver framed glasses onto his nose, and winking at himself in the mirror. He turns to Pidge, hand on hip, “And besides, even if it was a date - which it isn’t - it would be Demetrius the handsome on the date, not Lance.”

“I wouldn’t date a guy with a name like that,” Keith puts in from the doorway, where he’s been mostly silent; arms folded to his chest as he watches Lance get ready.

“Maybe you wouldn’t,” Lance says to Keith, “But Roger would.”

“I’m not using that cover name,” Keith says immediately.

“Fine,” Lance agrees easily, then smirks, “Roger the party pooper, then.”

Keith shakes his head, “No.” A small smile pulls at his lips, small enough to be missed, but Lance catches it and latches onto this moment between them with:

“But it suits you so well,” he pouts up at Keith, looking at him through his eyelashes and Keith rolls his eyes, his smile twitching at the corners.

“It really sort of does,” Hunk says consideringly, “The Roger, I mean.”

“No,” Pidge says, their eyes narrowed at Keith as they scrutinise him. “Our Keith is definitely more of a Nick.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Lance gasps, he points at Keith, “He’s a Roger - through and through.”

Keith huffs out a laugh,and Lance shoots a grin at him. “I’ll meet you by the pod, Lance,” Keith says, turning out of the room.

“I won’t be long, Roger!” Lance calls after him, and Keith walks away, shaking his head, a soft smile on his face. 

try this trick and spin it (jonathan/nancy, teen)

rated: teen 
he’s lost his mind. he should want to cry, or rage, and he knows he’s never going to sleep again. but he’s pretty sure he’s about to start laughing.
read on ao3
my take on what happens in the immediate aftermath of the season 2 finale
also i just really, really, really like writing jonathan byers
title from the pixies song. using the song’s actual title seemed a little on the nose. 

He’s lost his mind. 

He can still hear his brother’s screams bouncing around inside his skull, feel the grit of drying sweat under his clothes, taste Nancy’s mouth on his tongue. He should want to cry, or rage, and he knows he’s never going to sleep again. But he’s pretty sure he’s about to start laughing.

Yeah. He's absolutely lost his mind.

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The Arrangement - Chapter Seventeen

Author’s Note: It finally happened… I finally updated! I can’t thank my lovely followers enough for being so very patient with me and this fic, I love that I haven’t updated in ages but I’m still getting an outpouring of positive feedback from people who are starting the series (or waiting for me to update haha). So here we go, Chapter 17 of the Arrangement! The story lost its way for a little bit, but this chapter is going to bring it back to what I have planned for the next few chapters (some angst and fluff woo!) I hope you all enjoy this one, and as always feedback is so very appreciated! xx 


Originally posted by boomdafunk

Kylo Ren despised almost everyone. That was why, upon meeting new people, he assumed the position that he did not and would not like them. Ever. It made things easy. Made his role as the Commander of the First Order simpler. He could even maintain a convincingly cordial pretence towards most people because he knew it meant nothing. It even came in good use for when he was on diplomatic missions.

That’s why, when Kylo found himself sitting opposite the grimy leader of a smuggling syndicate to discuss their mutual support and interest in the advancements of the First Order, Kylo had been doing a brilliant job of playing the part of diplomat.

Your presence at these sorts of meetings had become routine now. With your training progressing nicely, Kylo had returned full-time to his usual schedule as Commander, and you were happy to play the part of his doting wife at meetings like this. You helped Kylo in ways that he could likely never fully express his gratitude for. You were sitting beside him at this meeting: your hand resting reassuringly on his thigh under the table, your voice providing a steady source of comfort throughout the talks.

You had become the only exception to Kylo’s ‘I despise everyone’ rule. And whatever false cordiality Kylo afforded to this crime boss was quickly thinning out.

“I’m interested in taking my syndicate’s investment in the First Order further. But it will cost you.”

“Who does this pig think he’s speaking to?”

You heard Kylo’s voice echo through your head, watching as his gloved fist above the table clenched slightly. Beneath the table, your hand found his other one and you soothingly rubbed your thumb across the back of his hand.

“Let’s just hear what he has to say first.”

“You’ll be the death of me, Princess.”

“I’m listening.” Kylo said aloud, his vocoder amplifying the bitterness in his tone.

“We will increase our visible support to your cause–”

“Remind me again where you claim to already support the First Order? Your syndicate has remained neutral thus far: you won’t be increasing, you’ll be establishing.”

You frowned at Kylo’s tone, giving his hand a quick squeeze before stepping in.

“What my husband means to say is… How do you propose to implement such an… increase to your level of support for the First Order?”

The crime boss leant back into his chair. “Hmm. That’s a smart one you’ve got there Ren: she’s got the looks and brains to match,” the man chuckled, “That combination is a rare find, you know. Though I 'spose as Commander, you’d have first pick at anyone in the Galaxy, wouldn’t you? She must be offerin’ something really special to have you locked down.”

“He’s dead.”

Before you could respond to Kylo’s voice in your head, Kylo moved to stand up at the man’s comment but you managed to hold him in place before he got too far. Kylo turned back to you, feeling your pull through the Force. You were almost certain his face would be flushed with a furious crimson under that helmet.

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The hero’s bond “Teamwork” Part-3




The hero’s bond (original post)

I uploaded this one in groups of 3 panels rather than individual images, so hopefully mobile users can see the posts now. (you should see all 15 pictures, if not please let me know).

I hope to wrap this mini story soon so I can get to the other ideas I have for this comic series going.

This particular story was me trying my hand at action scene mixed with some mild interaction between to two Links. From what I can seen now, people tend to like the more talkative parts of this comic so I going to adjust accordingly and bring more dialogue into the next “chapter”.

See you in the next one!

anonymous asked:

Imagine there was a fic wish fairy and they granted you 3 wishes, so 3 of your favorite unfinished stories could be completed. What 3 stories would you choose?

Great question anon and thank you for asking! I wish for more wishes! Three was really hard and I’ve seen many other great wishes that I would have wished… and I have other wishes on my list that I feel are close to being finished… so here’s three wishes I haven’t seen yet and the ladies will surely love the spotlight. Sorry (notsorry) for the pressure to finish these tales of delicious angst!

@areyouserial‘s Under The Bleachers

@katnissdoesnotfollowback‘s Ampersand

@papofglencoe‘s Errata

Writing Advice

I’m not an expert in writing, but someone asked me earlier how I write emotions for certain scenes or how I focus on particular areas/make it interesting etc. So I just thought I would post this and see if it helps anyone out. I’m not saying this is professional advice because it’s not, but this is just personally what helps me to write and hopefully it can help some other people too.

If you’re stuck on how to write the characters reaction to a certain scenario, relate it to a time you’ve been in a similar place or frame of mind: Obviously if you’re writing about a character murdering someone or hunting monsters it isn’t going to be able to be related to. However, if you look deeper into what is going on you will be able to find something you can relate it to. For example, your character has to make a big decision, and it’s a life or death situation, no matter what they do the outcome will be bad. Relate this to a time in your life where you had to make a decision, it doesn’t even have to be anything wild. It could literally be choosing between two different toppings for your ice cream or pizza, but you have to focus on what you were thinking at the time. How did you come to a final decision? Did you find a compromise? Did things go well in the end or did things go badly? Was it a risk or did you stick with what you knew to be safe?

Paint a picture in your head of the exact scene before you write it so that you know it well enough to give a brief summary that will make the layout of the scene easy for the reader to follow: An example would be if the character/s were in a kitchen and you described where the table, counter and oven were and what room the door led to if they were going to exit. Sometimes it’s important to go in to detail about the setting but sometimes you just need a brief summary so that the story can start. It’s easier for you as a writer to follow this and let the story flow if you know exactly what this place looks like.

Know your character: If it’s an original character, make sure you write a fact file on them first and get to know them. Ask yourself questions about them that might not seem important like what’s their favourite animal and why? Why are they here? Who do they choose to keep around them? What’s their opinions on politics? Are they sexually active? Does everyone around them support their life choices? Etc. If you’re writing a fan fiction of a character that already exists, try to think about how they are as a person and how they may have reacted in similar situations to what you’re writing. If it’s a reader insert and you’re writing it specifically for a reader to be put in you might want to avoid certain pronouns or descriptions. Unless your reader is supposed to have a particular trait e.g. Their gender may be referenced to, their skin colour, weight, body shape, hair colour, eye colour. But if it’s not specific to a certain criteria, for reader inserts you might want to steer clear of those little details.

If you’re experiencing writers block, write something that you never expected to write or take a story in a direction you had never considered before: If you are having writers block in the sense of you have no idea where to start your fic/story/book, go somewhere to come up with a character and a story line should follow. Go and get the train or the bus to somewhere and pay attention to a few different people. See how they react to different things like people sitting next to them or the train stopping. Are they alone? Why could that be? Or are they with someone? How many people? Is the person they’re with someone they like or someone they’re forced to be around? (Like an abusive partner, a disliked family member etc). Once you have a better idea for a character, ideas start to stem of what situations they would end up in or maybe even struggle in which would make an interesting dynamic. If you are finding it hard to carry on with a scene, move on to the next chapter or paragraph. If it’s a short story or fic then write the ending, then build the rest of the write up to that end. If you don’t know where to go with the rest of the story there a few ways to mix the story up.
1. Kill a character
2. Bring in a new character that threatens the status of the protagonist
3. Bring back a character that left
4. Bring back a character that ‘died’ or faked their death
5. Write the next chapter in the POV of a different character or writers POV
6. Introduce a new problem

Write out a plan for your story: It can be as messy as you want but always write a plan. Get all of your ideas for the fic/story/book written down. Whether it’s in your notes or written on paper. Just write down quotes you have in mind for the characters to say at some point, beautifully written sentences that you imagine writing for the situation, scenarios, the actual plot, who’s involved. As soon as it’s all down, when you get stuck while writing it you can go back to it and see a quote or idea you wanted to use and it might help you with your writers block or move your story along.

Again, I’m not a professional when it comes to writing but these are just some things that help me so I’m hoping that this will be able to help some other people too. :)


Now the next chapter of Killing Stalking brings a lot of possibilities.

Will we actually see Sangwoo show some understanding for Bum’s painful abusive past?

I think Sangwoo’s character is too messed up for him to see the irony in the situation and change something about (let aside ending ) the abuse he himself is inflicting on Bum.

But to see him direct some of his characteristic vengeful anger that he usually saves for people who have even mildly inconvenienced him at someone who has severely damaged Bum would be a development I’m looking forward to.

Master List

 Updated as of 1.1.18! Enjoy my lovely readers!<3

Key: Complete- 💮 In Progress- ⭕ Angst/Hurt- ⚜   Fluff/Comfort- 🍬  Mature (Mentions of alcohol or hinted)- ♣

Sweet Dreams, My Dear - After horrendously messing up a dream, your Boss sends you back into the world of the living as punishment. Even worse, he leaves you at a random bus stop to fend for yourself while you’re here. Great Boss, really. But luckily for you, a few kind-hearted boys drive by and offer you a place to stay for the night, and after much protest, they manage to convince you to come along. So, here you are, a celestial being stuck on Earth that was taken in by three boys who have the most adorable pets, what could go wrong?

 Part OnePart TwoPart ThreePart FourPart FivePart SixPart SevenPart EightPart NinePart TenPart ElevenPart TwelvePart ThirteenPart FourteenPart FifteenPart SixteenPart Seventeen, Part EighteenPart NineteenPart TwentyPart Twenty OnePart Twenty Two, Part Twenty Three, Part Twenty FourPart Twenty FivePart Twenty SixPart Twenty SevenPart Twenty EightPart Twenty NinePart ThirtyThirty OnePart Thirty Two… The Finale!  Bonus Chapter:  Even In Your Dreams 💮

Bring Me a Dream (Sequel to SDMD) 

First chapter! (Each chapter now has ‘Next’ and “Previous’ links so hopefully that all works out well and if there are any problems, tell me :D )

Originally posted by lissachan504

Mark Fischbach

Just Breathe ; ⚜🍬

Morning Surprises; 🍬

Wait For Me? ; ⚜🍬

You Oblivious Dork ; 🍬

Blueberry Pancakes ; 🍬

Stained Shirts ; 🍬

Five Types of Love (Honestly, one of my favorites!) 🍬♣

Love Sick ; 🍬

Teddy Bear ; ⚜🍬

Your Little Secret ; ⚜🍬

Stumbling About ; 🍬♣


Decisions: Leaving It Up To You (Pt.1) , Curious Situations (Pt.2/ End) ; ⚜🍬💮

Originally posted by glittchiplier


Out of The Woods: Fallen Leaves (Pt.1),  A Most Deceitful Wolf (Pt.2),  A Rather Clever Mouse (Pt.3/Finale) ; ⚜♣💮

Originally posted by thedarkeststarrms


After The Storm ; ⚜🍬

Bon Appetite: Left Behind, How to Apologize ; ⚜🍬💮

Originally posted by spidermlm

Ethan Nestor

Hot Coco ; ⚜🍬

Perfectly Cozy; 🍬

The Next Step: Pt. 1  Pt. 2   Pt. 3 ; ⚜⭕

Requests are currently open! So feel free to fire some off at me! I’ve also realized just how much fluff I write lmao If any of the links do not work, please tell me so I can fix them :)

Falling slowly

So, I definitely got more out of my second read through of Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts. 

One of the things that struck me is how Viktor thinks about Yuuri, and when he does it. We know that at the end of the chapter, at the age of 23, Viktor is ‘completely in love with Yuuri’. But the bit before he says this is very telling: 'Viktor had known for a long time where the path he was walking would eventually lead’. See that? He had known for a long time.  Perhaps he didn’t think it in the words he uses at the end of the chapter, but he knew he was falling all the same.  And when I read through the chapter I just saw so much evidence of Viktor falling. He’s been falling slowly for a long time, and we can see it happen through the chapter. 

(The rest below the cut)

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Running from the Past: Chapter 11

Summary: Female!Reader is a mutant who was experimented on by HYDRA. Due to her unique powers, she escaped a year and a half ago without being seen when the Avengers attacked the Hydra compound she was kept in for 5 years of her life. Her mutations and Hydra experiments allow her to blend in with her surroundings (like a chameleon/cuttlefish/octopus) and change her appearance in minor ways (such as hair, skin, and eye color), though the changes are only temporary. She has decided to stay with the Avengers in the hopes they can help her retrieve lost memories. Remembering a particularly intimate memory of Bucky leads to a fight between the two.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 4,879

Warnings: Language, violence/fighting, traumatic past, torture/experimentation, angst, more angst, slow burn

A/N: Russian in “quotes and itatlics.” You know the drill :) Yeesh, this is a long one. Buckle up, bois, and bring tissues.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Originally posted by ohmystucky

“Last chance, Bucky. Tell me everything. Give me an explanation I can understand. Fix this now, or I’m never going to speak to you again,” you said, your tone deadly. It would hurt to much to be around you and not with you, You thought, chest constricting painfully.

He was a silent for a moment before he spoke. “I think that’s for the best,” he said, voice completely devoid of all emotion.

In the weeks that followed your fight with Bucky, you stood by your word. You saw him rarely and didn’t speak to him. Your emotional and physical distance wasn’t enough to stop the ache in your chest you got every time you saw him, though. In the rare moments you had to be in the same room as him for more than a few moments, you never looked at him. You could always feel his stare, though, and saw it out of the corner of your eyes.

Today, you were making a light breakfast at your normal time. You had training with Wanda today. You’d agreed to go back out into the field in the name of SHIELD. You’d seen firsthand the good the organization was trying to do and decided to lend them your skills.

You made yourself a bowl of oatmeal. While you worked, you could feel Bucky gazing at you from his spot at the dining room table. You ignored him and grabbed a spoon from the drawer and decided to take your breakfast to go, heading to the gym a floor below.

You arrived at the gym five minutes later, oatmeal heartily devoured. Wanda was already waiting for you, so you threw the bowl in your locker, grabbed your water bottle, and went out to meet her.

A few agents were working out but they gave you and Wanda a wide berth. Whether it was out of respect, kindness, or fear you didn’t know. Nor did you particularly care.

You both agreed to spar, no powers. Pinning for at least three seconds was a point. First to five points won. You were already exhausted from running with Steve that morning which meant that Wanda had a better chance than usual at beating you. Even without your memories completely returned, a lot of your fighting instincts had stayed intact. You won your matches more often than not. You wondered how much better your fighting prowess would be if you remembered the rest of your time as The Infiltrator.

As it turned out, remembering your time as a highly trained spy did, in fact, increase your combat capabilities. The Captain had been training Wanda in hand-to-hand combat. He said he didn’t want her to rely too much on her powers and she agreed.

But today, you were a force of nature. You performed moves you’d forgotten and analyzed Wanda’s style easily. You’d racked up four points by the time she got her first pin on you.

You groaned in frustration, struggling under her grip. She stretched your arm out farther, causing you to gasp in pain. If you didn’t get up immediately, she would-

You were too slow. Sure enough, with a shift of her weight she pinned you, your face squished into the sparring mat.

“Give up, before this gets messy” she said with mock bravado.

You screamed in agony as pressure spiked painfully in the base of your skull.

Wanda quickly released you. You curled up into a ball, clutching your head. Your nails dug deeply into your scalp, but you didn’t even feel it.

Distantly, you knew Wanda was asking you what was wrong, but you barely heard her.

To your surprise, you didn’t black out. Instead, the pain gradually lessened until you could once again see straight. You didn’t know how much time had passed, but by the time you were able to focus, agents had gathered around you, fidgeting, unsure what to do. Wanda was sitting next to you, eyes wide. She seemed startled when you turned to look at her.

“(Y/N)? What happened?” she asked quietly. Her voice grated on your ear drums and you winced.

“Dunno. Head hurts,” you managed to get out, hissing at the pain you felt when you turned your head slightly to look at her.

“Was it a memory?” she asked hesitantly.

“Don’t think so. Just pain,” you said, trying to control your breathing. Your head throbbed with pain in time with your heartbeats.

“Do you need help?” Wanda asked, hands hovering above you, unsure.

“No, no,” you said, grimacing in pain as you sat up. “I can handle this,” you said, leaning forwards onto your hands and knees. You could feel your oatmeal trying to work its way back up. Your body protested moving. You ignored it and forced yourself to stand, swaying slightly. Wanda popped up and held her hands out, ready to catch you if need be.

“Are you sure?” she asked, clearly not believing you. Anyone who could see you could tell you probably weren’t okay.

“Never better. Think I’m gonna call it here for today, though,” you said, turning away from her and stumbling towards the door.

You heard her huff in exasperation behind you. She popped up next to you and grabbed your arm just in time to keep you from falling over. She threw it over her shoulder. “You’re going to hurt yourself. At least let me help you to your room,” she said, staring at you obstinately, jaw set. Not wanting to be anywhere that wasn’t your bed for a moment longer, you agreed to her help.

Together you managed to get you into your room. With one last concerned look at you, curled in a ball on your bed, she left and closed the door quietly behind her. You reached into the top drawer your bedside table and pulled out some Advil and washed it down with some water from the pitcher and cups on your table, hoping against hope it’d sooth some of the aching throbbing in your head. It felt like Thor himself was hitting your head with Mjolnir.

You weren’t sure if it was because of the advil or just because your brain had finished trying to scramble itself, but eventually the pain began to fade. You were so exhausted from everything that happened that, as soon as the pain allowed, you fell asleep on top of your sheets, still in your workout clothes.

You awoke to the sound of screaming. You sat bolt upright, vision swimming from the sudden change of position and dull throb in the back of your skull. Luckily for you, you’d fallen asleep in your workout clothes.

“What’s going on, FRIDAY?” you asked the VI. The screaming continued, muffled by the thick walls between you and its origin.

“I can’t be sure, Miss (Y/L/N),” FRIDAY responded. “The source of the noise seems to be Sargent Barnes’ room. I can’t access his room without his express permission, so I don’t know what the situation is. I would notify the Avengers, but they’re out on assignment. It is still early enough that your door hasn’t locked for the night. You are capable of assisting the Sargent if he’s in trouble,” FRIDAY told you.

You were out of bed and running out the door practically before she finished speaking. You wished they’d allowed you weapons, but that was a big leap of faith in someone prone to inexplicably turning into a practically undetectable Hydra agent. Bucky’s room was only a few doors down, a fact you usually hated as it increased your chances of having to see him. His screams compelled you to move faster, on edge. He sounded like he was in pain. You were surprised to see that his door was intact, but quickly punched the security code into the panel and breathed a sigh of relief when it swung open. You ran in, prepared to fight whatever threat met you.

But the room was empty except for Bucky, who was laying on the floor, tangled in blankets, screaming bloody murder.

“Bucky!” You ran up to him and realized he was asleep, eyes closed tightly, oblivious to the waking world. He was drenched in sweat and was tossing and turning violently.

“Bucky, wake up!” you said, shaking him.

“No, not her! Stop” he yelled. You barely dodged his fist as he flailed in his sleep, missing your head by inches. The pain the back of your skull spiked back up uncomfortably.

“Bucky, you have to wake up! It’s a dream!” you said, shaking him harder, your own pain growing.

“-my fault! Take me! Don’t touch her!” he bellowed, face twisting in agony in his sleep.

You looked up and searched his room for- aha. Your vision swam slightly from the pain. There it was. You jumped up and grabbed his water bottle from the bedside table and came back to kneel beside him. You unscrewed the cap and unceremoniously dumped the water on his face.

The chilly liquid made him wake suddenly, eyes bugging for a moment. Something was off, though. He swiveled, grabbing your arm with his metal hand and sat up in one smooth motion. It dug into your flesh uncomfortably. He peered at you in the dim room, eyes hard.

But then he seemed to notice who he was holding. His eyes still had a faraway look to them, but his features softened when he recognized you. To your shock, he pulled you to his chest, crushing you against him. You were about to yell at him and pull away when you realized he was crying. He ran his fingers through your hair gently, other arm clutching you to his chest.

He’s not completely awake yet, you thought to yourself.

“You’re safe. Thank goodness you’re safe. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Doll. Please forgive me. I love you. I won’t let them break me,” he murmured into your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

And, for the third time in your life, pain sundered the world around you until there was only blackness.

Originally posted by breakmybedbarnes

You clutched at your left arm, blood seeping out between your fingers. There weren’t supposed to have been this many hostiles. Your intel was wrong. Your intel was never wrong. 

You gritted your teeth when two more soldiers appeared in the doorway, raised your left arm, which held your gun, and aimed shakily at the guards. Your first shot hit one of the soldiers true, but your second hit the other’s body armor. He aimed his semi-automatic rifle at your head and you quickly ducked behind the wall behind you, narrowly avoiding getting torn to shreds by the bullets.

“Report, Doll,” Bucky said into your comms.

“The intel on this complex was shit. There are triple the amount of men there were supposed to be. I’m out-gunned and I’m hit,” you said over the gunfire. There was a lull in the barrage of bullets. You rolled out of cover and shot the soldier dead before he knew what was happening. It was a small victory. There were forty more men in the complex. You were a gifted fighter, but you were only one woman against highly trained, well-geared soldiers, and all you had was a pistol. You knew you probably weren’t making it out of this one. You set your jaw in grim determination. If you weren’t going to survive, you’d give Bucky the biggest distraction you could so that he’d have an easier time taking out his target.

“I’m coming,” he spoke over the comm.

“You’ve completed your mission?” you asked incredulously. Their plan had gone sideways from moment one when your ticket in had turned out to be a setup. They had known you were coming and had prepared accordingly. It seemed impossible that Bucky had managed to assassinated his target with the defenses their enemies had set in place.

“No,” he said simply. You could hear gunfire over the comms. You heard boots thundering down the hallway which meant you had company, too.

“But, the mission-” you began. This had been a rare opportunity for you to take a reclusive, rich, and well-guarded enemy of Hydra.

“You’re more important than the mission,” he growled, voice muffled by his mask. “I made you a promise,” he said. You heard the sickening thwack of his metal fist meeting bones.

“They will find out. Please, Bucky, complete the mission. They’ll wipe your mind,” you said frantically.

“I’m not leaving you behind, Doll,” he said, the sounds of fighting still filling the comms. “You would do the same for me,” he said, more softly.

You wanted to fight him about it more, but you knew it was true. Also, more soldiers had appeared and you had to focus on killing them before they killed you. It was getting more difficult as you lost more and more blood.

“This is a terrible idea,” you grumbled, ducking behind an overturned table as more soldiers appeared.

“I heard that,” Bucky said, grunting as he fought against the tide of men.

“Well it is,” you hiss. You took careful aim at one of the soldiers and pulled the trigger. He dropped like a rock and you ducked back behind the table as his fellows peppered it with bullets. “… but thank you,” you said softly. “I only have one bullet left,” you said, glaring at the gun.

“You’re welcome, princess. Almost there,” he said. You strained your ears, listening. Sure enough, you could hear him working his way towards you down the hallway.

“Four in the room in front of you. They have me pinned behind the table,” you informed him, peeking out from behind the table. A spray of bullets aimed at your head make you take cover quickly again.

“I think you mean three,” he said just as one of the soldiers flew over you and into the wall, knocking him unconscious on impact. You shot him in the head before he could rouse.

“Showoff,” you muttered, grabbing the dead man’s gun. You stood up, clutching the semi-automatic, gunning for any of the soldiers.

Bucky was leaning against the door frame, soldiers dead around him, looking smug. You knew he was smirking under his mask. “I heard that, too. Do you even know how comms work?” he asked teasingly. You raised the gun and aimed at his head and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh, come on, Doll. I’m only kidding.”

“Duck,” you said. He dropped without a second thought and you shot the soldier that had been sneaking up on him right between the eyes.

He turned to look at the dead man before he turned back to you. “Thanks, Doll,” he said, walking over to you. He cupped your cheek in his hand and rubbed it gently with his thumb before taking a look at your arm. Blood still trailed down your arm from the wound. He holstered his gun and looked around for a moment before he walked over to a set of delicate window curtains and ripped a long, thin strip off of it. He wrapped it around your arm and over the wound. Your face twisted in distaste. It stung like a bitch. “Sorry, sweetheart. Gotta bandage that before you bleed out on me,” he said, eyes apologetic.

“Don’t worry about it. No pain no gain. Thanks, Bucky,” you said, standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his masked lips. His eyes twinkled and you knew he was smiling.

“Let’s get out of here before more show up, shall we?” he asked, pulling the Skorpion off of the back of his vest.

You nodded. “Your bike nearby?” you asked as you followed him through the halls.

“Close enough,” he said, scanning the halls cautiously.

You made it through the mansion with relative ease. Between you and Bucky, the soldiers didn’t stand a chance. It became clear very quickly, though, that the target of the mission had fled, likely going underground. You were heading towards where Bucky had stashed his bike when he spoke up. You’d both already thrown out your comms and any other equipment that Hydra might be able to track.

“We can’t go back to Hydra,” he said, looking over at you as you ran.

“What about my arm? I can’t go to the hospital, Bucky. I could list the reasons why, but we’d be here for hours,” you said. Your vision was starting to get blurry and your blood had soaked through the temporary bandage.

He stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. “I think I know somewhere we can get some help,” he said as you arrived at the tiny broken down carport Bucky had stashed his bike in.

“And where would that be?” you asked. He pulled the camouflage tarp off of it, pulled it out of the shed, and hopped on.

“Ever been to New York?” he asked, glancing at you over his shoulder as you hopped on. You shook your head. Most of your work had been in D.C. The black Harley roared beneath you as he started it. “Well, it’s time to go see an old friend,” he yelled over the engine before he peeled off down the road.

You hadn’t gotten more than ten miles before Hydra found you. You were speeding down the freeway when you felt Bucky tense up. You looked around, confused. Following you (and gaining fast) were a horde of black SUV’s. “Why is it always black SUV’s?” you muttered to yourself, and held onto Bucky even more tightly. He must have spotted them in his mirrors. He sped up, but slammed on the brakes. There was a blockade up ahead.

“Hydra,” you heard him hiss over the rumble of the Harley’s engine. “Hold on, Doll. We hafta ditch the bike. It’s too conspicuous,” he said. You didn’t need to be told twice. He took off again, weaving in and out of swerving cars. Luckily, you didn’t have to sit in terror too long. He pulled off at the first exit, speeding down the exit ramp and into the busy city. The SUV’s would be delayed by the traffic… or so you thought. More came screeching down the road and blockaded the bottom of the exit ramp.

You were going fast. Too fast to stop before you ran into the closest of the vehicles. Bucky had noticed, too. Suddenly, you were in his arms as he jumped off the bike. It went sideways, skidding into and under the first car. Somehow, he managed to land on his feet, stumbling only slightly as he took off running with you in his arms, away from the Hydra agents. He jumped over the guardrail, and made it five steps before he froze. Waiting for you at the bottom of the grassy, trash-infested hill were at least twenty Hydra agents, guns trained on the both of you. You peered over Bucky’s shoulder. The agents from the highway chase had finally arrived, blocking off your retreat. The ones that had blocked the off ramp joined the others, guns aimed at you and Bucky.

“Give up, before this gets messy,” said one of the agents at the bottom of the hill.

“I’m sorry, Doll,” he said, realizing exactly how impossible it was for both of you to make it out of this alive and free.

“I see that look in your eyes, Bucky. Don’t you dare try to sacrifice yourself so I can escape. I can barely stand, much less run. I wouldn’t want you doing that even if I was in a good condition, though,” you said, reaching up to brush some of his hair from his face. It fell right back and you smiled. “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes, and I don’t blame you one bit,” you whispered.

A second later, something stung your arm. You looked down. A tranquilizer dart. You heard Bucky hiss as he was hit with at least three. He fell to his knees, setting you down gently next to him, before he fell backwards. You laid your head on his chest, fingers lacing with his, just before everything went black.

Pain. Pain was all you felt.

It pervaded every movement; every breath.

Some of your fingers were swollen, ending in a bloody mess; flesh exposed where nails had been. They’d been careful to stop your bleeding. You’d lost a lot of blood before you’d even arrived. Most of their other torture had been blunt force or psychological. They brought you in front of Bucky while they beat you, his pleading screams mixing with yours as they broke your bones one at a time. He was strapped to his brainwashing chair and forced to watch.

“No, not her!” he screamed at your torturers. “Stop, please, it’s my fault! I’m the one who failed the mission!” he yelled, watching in horror as they punched you until your face was nearly unrecognizable. “Take me, instead! Please! Please, don’t touch her! She’s suffered too much already! She’s going to die!” he yelled, tugging against his restraints until his wrists bled. Tears were running down your face. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him, but your voice had given out hours ago.

“Why do you think we’re torturing her? Make no mistake, she deserves a punishment, too, but this is yours. We’ve known how much you cared about her for a long time now, but you seemed so motivated. You did everything we asked, trying to keep her safe from our wrath. But then you just had to go and fail, then run away, didn’t you?” the man said, grinning wickedly at the look of horror and shame that crossed Bucky’s features.

It’s not your fault. Don’t listen to him, you wanted to tell him, but your damn voice wouldn’t work. Through your swollen eyelids, you could just make out Bucky’s expression. Your heart broke. He’s crying. He thought all of this is his fault. He blames himself for not being able to protect you.

Originally posted by buckybass

No, please, love. Don’t cry, you wanted to tell him. The man torturing you pulled out a small electrical device. You recognize it from your training. He planned to torture you with electricity. He tightened the straps that held you to the chair by your wrists and ankles. He moved your hair out of your face in an almost intimate way and you didn’t even have the energy to pull away from his slimy touch. “There, now, have to ensure your Bucky can see your face, no?” he asked, putrid breath wafting in your face. He looked over his shoulder at Bucky. “Make no mistake, Soldier. This is your fault,” he said, turning the machine on its lowest setting. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure not to kill her. Can’t have your punishment ending too early,” he said, placing the positive and negative clamps on the legs of the chair.

You met his eyes. The physical distance between you seemed more vast than the ocean. You tried to tell him with your eyes how much you felt for him. How you didn’t blame him. While the doctor adjusted the machine you mouthed “I love you” to him. He choked back a sob.

The last thing you remember is the torturer saying, “Alright, my dear. Let us begin.”

You were finally able to focus. You had no idea how long you were out for. Minutes? Hours? Days? Time had no meaning in the torture chamber. You realized suddenly you weren’t tied up. You tried to sit up, but your body wouldn’t budge. You barely had the energy to keep your eyes open. You managed to turn your head enough to find Bucky. He was still in the chair and although he was looking at you, his mind was thousands of miles away.

Originally posted by sebjpeg

“Bucky,” you manage, words coming out in a hiss. His attention snaps to your face. You can see the relief flood his face, only to be quickly replaced by terror. He looks from you to the door quickly. You realized you must be alone for now.

“I’m sorry, Doll. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you. And now this is happening to you because of me. Damnit. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, distraught.

“Bucky-” you began, but were cut off by the loud bang of the door opening. In walks the torturer, whose name you still didn’t know. It seemed odd that you didn’t know the name of the man killing you even though you’d been in his company for hours- if not days- already.

“Ah, yes, the lovely lady awakens. I think we’re ready to finish this game, then, yes?” he asked, looking between the two of you.

“Don’t touch her,” Bucky said, menace lacing his voice.

“Oh, I don’t plan to. Not anymore, anyway,” he said, smiling venomously at Bucky. The sight sent a shiver down your spine. “No, Soldier, that will be your job,” he said, pressing a button that put Bucky in a slightly reclined position.

“No! No, shit, no!” he yelled, struggling against the restraints when he realized what the man was planning. The straps held fast, holding him in place. The man shoved a mouth guard into Bucky’s mouth. He didn’t have time to spit it out.

The metal contraption came down and covered most of his face. You could still see his eyes, though.

“Bucky,” you whisper.

His eyes locked with yours.

And then the machine turned on and he convulsed, eyes widening, unable to focus past the pain. Tears escaped your eyes, but your body didn’t even have the energy left to sob. You watched in horror as the torturer read out the Soldier’s activation words.

“Furnace. Benign. Rusted. One. Daybreak. Nine. Longing. Seventeen. Homecoming. Freight Car.”

The machine stopped, and the machine’s arm lifted away from Bucky’s face. What you see makes your heart break. It’s no longer your Bucky. It’s the Winter Soldier.

“Soldier?” asked the torturer.

“Ready to comply,” the Soldier responded, emotionless.

Satisfied, the man removed the restraints from the Soldier.

“Kill that woman,” he ordered, motioning to you over his shoulder.

The Soldier looked at you and your entire body froze in fear. There was no spark of recognition in his eyes. “Understood,” he said, standing.

He walked over to you slowly. You tried to turn your head to look up at him, but couldn’t find the energy. All you could see were his boots and the bottom of his pants. Suddenly, his metal hand came into view-

-and his fingers wrapped around your neck, lifting you up. He picked you up easily and walked you backwards until your back hit a cold cement wall. Your feet barely touched the ground.

You looked into his eyes. There was nothing left of your Bucky… but perhaps there would be again one day. You didn’t want him to blame himself.

Using the last of your strength, you lifted a hand to his face and gently caressed his cheek. Black spots swam in your vision.

“I don’t blame you, Bucky,” you rasped, eyes locked to his. “I… love… you…” you managed to get out before the blackness overtook your vision completely and you lost consciousness.

You woke up in a small, cold, grimy, cement cell. You looked around confused, and took in your surroundings. There was a tiny lumpy mattress to your left. A small dingy light bulb hung from the ceiling. Behind you, at the top of the cell- which you guessed was about twelve feet high- was a tiny window. Freezing air drifted in through it, turning your cell into a veritable refrigerator. It was then you noticed that you were covered in bandages and casts. You gasped in horror when you saw your fingernails- about half of them were missing. You whipped your head around to look at the door and groaned in pain. Your neck was killing you. You reached up to rub it but ripped your hand away in alarm the second you touched it, nearly crying out. You tried again, ghosting your fingertips over it, and winced. You couldn’t see, but you had to guess there was a enormous, ugly bruise there.

“Where the hell am I?” you whispered, voice cracking. Your throat was sore and as dry as desert. You stood up, grimacing at how painful it was to work around all of your injuries to do so, and went up to the door. As you approached, you realized the noise you were hearing was actually a cacophony of screams and machinery. You stumbled away from the door in horror, tripping over your own feet and landing hard on your thin mattress. Your eyes watered in pain. You’d definitely aggravated some of your other injuries with that fall.

Why am I here… and how did I get here? What happened to me? You thought to yourself. You tried to think about what you were doing before you woke up here, and balked in horror when you realized you couldn’t remember- You couldn’t remember anything. You knew two things: Your name, and that you inexplicably felt a sense of loss that overpowered everything else, including your current fear and confusion.

Thus began the worst five years of your life.

Chapter 12

Permanent tag list for all future RftP chapters I release below the cut. If you’d like to be added /ask me or like this post.

Keep reading

Halloween Countdown: 8

Warning: mentions of blood, violence and sexual situations.

Warning: mentions of blood, violence and sexual situations.


Summary: A chilling little series to countdown to Halloween. Each fated meeting with nine mysterious men leads you that much closer to your dark future…or rather, your end.


You wake up to the sound of a piano.

The room is dark, but large and luxurious. You were sleeping on a queen-sized bed, and when you sit up your head pounds painfully, the room spinning around you. It takes you a while to get yourself out of bed as you stagger towards the door.

The piano is louder in the hallway.

Keep reading

Don’t Fear the Reaper

Sam Winchester x Reader

1200 Words

Warnings: None

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Summary: You are a reaper, actually one of Death’s favorites.  You’ve been following the story of the Winchesters for a while, staying out of sight, never letting them see you. You slowly fall in love with Sam, even though he doesn’t know you exist. But that all changes one day. Set in Season 5

Chapter Summary: The beginning of your story, and the beginning of your association with the Winchesters

You were a Reaper. It wasn’t as mysterious or interesting as it sounded. Your life was spent following your fathers orders, taking poor unfortunate souls and helping them move on to the afterlife.

You had seen everything, Just as much as the Angels had. But while they stood watch, and guard over God’s creations, you stood and waited for them to die, much like a vulture watched over its prey. You watched as the humans grew and developed. Only dealing with them when you had to, when Death issued the order and you had to swoop down and guide them onto their next chapter in life.

It was a dull, lonely existence. Who would want to be friend a Reaper, a person who brought death with them wherever they went? Of course there were the other reapers, many of whom were older than you, and full of themselves. You were one of the last reapers Death had created, and you were looked down upon by many. Especially since Death seemed to favor you more so than others, giving you easier tasks, leaving the evil and dark souls to those of his more seasoned children.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Paula said Lizzy went to the place where she belongs. Could Lizzy be possibly thinking about agreeing to be turned into a bizarre doll herself?! I know the idea is weird and not thought out well. But it's crossed my mind and I just wanted to share it with you.

Hello and thanks for sharing Anon! But nope, Lizzie is still alive and well and what Paula meant…

was about Lizzie’s duty as “Ciel Phantomhive”’s fiancée. As we know, the situation is harsh on Lizzie because she can’t decide between doing her duty or following her heart, because of a lot of different factors, but still in the meantime she’s following Real!Ciel, her fiancé, which is why she is “where she belongs”.

I am supposing that Real!Ciel will announce that Lizzie is here too, in the next chapter, or Bravat will bring her soon enough, so that our!Ciel will be able to witness that Lizzie too “chose his twin’s side”.

((Remember that I personally think Lizzie is basically nothing more than a hostage, a pawn used to hurt our!Ciel since she’s the person he cares the most about.))

I hope it answers your question, Anon! Have a nice day :)

Hello Anon! And yes, I’m afraid that this is precisely what’s going to happen in the next few chapters.

As I was saying above, either Lizzie is already at the manor or Bravat will bring her soon enough (”she has gone where she belongs”), and Real!Ciel will tell his story in front of her and the servants so that he will be able to depict a truly despising picture of his brother in front of witnesses.

…Unless Liz already knows, which isn’t impossible of course. It’s just that in case she doesn’t know yet, I’m pretty sure she will find out very soon.

There are two reasons explaining why she has to know eventually: 

  1. Real!Ciel is trying to hurt his brother, so depicting him as a terrible person and showing him that Lizzie “took his side” will very probably hurt our!Ciel considering that Lizzie canonically is the person he cares about the most
  2. While I don’t have many doubts about Lizzie eventually choosing our!Ciel’s side because she’s in love with him (and Real!Ciel also did some unforgivable stuff like killing Agni), Lizzie finding out about the truth will surely bring her and our!Ciel closer which is necessary for his character development as I was explaining here.

So yep, the next few chapters are probably going to be very sad, but that’s necessary before things can take a better turn. In the first place, it’s true that this situation happened because our!Ciel had survivor’s guilt and lied for 4 years about his true identity. I don’t blame him because his reason was motivated by what he went through, but that’s still why we’re in this whole mess in the first place.

I hope it answers your question Anon, please have a nice day!