#the world is collapsing around me đŸ« 
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slutdge · 4 months ago
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why isnt substance abuse working like it used to this fucking sucks even more than usual
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hishumanbellestories · 3 months ago
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First kiss, but nothing serious.
I wanted something about the first kiss between Alastor and Deborah, I let myself go with the feelings, sweet and pathetic. đŸ« 
The air crackled between you like the charged silence before a storm. It had always been this way with Alastor — his presence was a static hum in your bones, an unseen force twisting the world around him. And yet, you were drawn to it, to him.
He grinned, as he always did; that sharp, ever-present smile that seemed more a mask than an expression. But his eyes — deep, endless red — lingered too long tonight, watching you as if there was something he couldn’t quite place.
«You do enjoy testing your luck, my dear», he said, voice syrupy smooth, but there was something else beneath it. Something unsettled.
You tilted your head, challenging him with nothing but a look.
«And you enjoy pretending you don't care».
For once, he didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he took a step closer, the space between you vanishing like smoke. His gloved hand reached out, hovering just near your cheek, fingers twitching as if fighting the impulse to touch you.
«You make the most dangerous assumptions», he murmured, and his voice was softer now, almost uncertain.
A rare thing.
You could feel his breath, though he didn’t need to breathe; could feel the static between you tightening like a wire pulled taut.
You knew Alastor — knew the way he toyed with the world, with people, but this wasn’t a game, was it?
The moment stretched, a delicate thread of something unnamed. Then, without thought, without fear, you closed the distance, placing your soft lips against his, just to spite him, and ruin his "I've got it all under control" ways.
The kiss was not meant to be anything but a test — chaste, fleeting. But the moment your lips brushed his, a current surged between you, sharp and consuming.
His entire body stiffened, and for a single, breathless second, the ever-present grin faltered. Then, just as quickly, it was back.
He pulled away, laughter bubbling up, but there was something wrong with it — too high, too forced — control slipped from his hands, causing the world to collapse beneath his feet.
«My, my, what a bold little thing you are!», he took a step back, a flicker of something unreadable flashing across his face before his mask slammed firmly back into place. «Careful, darling. You wouldn’t want to start something you can’t handle.»
But you saw it.
The way his hands trembled ever so slightly.
The way his grin no longer reached his eyes.
He didn’t know what this was.
And that...
Terrified him.
For the first time, you saw Alastor shaken. It wasn’t much — just a tremor in his fingers, a flicker of something too raw in his eyes before he forced it back into that gleeful, manic mask. But you saw it. And he knew you did.
He recovered fast, of course. Spun on his heel like nothing had happened, hands slipping into his pockets as he whistled some old radio tune, his voice bright, careless. Too careless.
«Well, well! That was unexpected! Can’t say I planned for a lady such as yourself to be so », his grin sharpened, «forward».
You crossed your arms, tilting your head.
«It was just a kiss, Alastor».
He stopped.
Just for a second.
Barely noticeable, but you caught it.
He turned to you, that ever-present amusement still there, but something lurked beneath it, something restless.
«Just a kiss?», he repeated it like the words were foreign on his tongue. He took a step toward you, then another, the distance between you vanishing once more.
He didn’t touch you, but you felt him all the same, the crackle in the air thick enough to choke on.
His voice dipped lower, softer, almost dangerous in its curiosity.
«Tell me, my dear
 was that just a kiss to you?»
You held his gaze, refusing to flinch.
«I don’t know yet».
His grin widened, but his fingers twitched at his sides. That was new. Alastor never hesitated. He never second-guessed himself. But right now, he was doing both.
For a man who delighted in control, in knowing the game before it was played, this uncertainty was driving him mad.
The silence between you stretched, thick with something unsaid, something unacknowledged. You could see it in his eyes — the war raging inside him.
Then, suddenly, the tension snapped. He laughed. Loud, sharp, as if trying to shatter whatever had settled between you. With a theatrical flourish, he stepped back, hands thrown up as if waving off the entire moment.
«Well! That was certainly entertaining!», his voice was back to its usual, sing-song charm, but there was something off about it. «But really, darling, if you were expecting a fairytale romance, I’m afraid you’ll have to find some other poor fool for that!»
He winked, as if that sealed it, as if he hadn’t just been shaken to his very core.
You didn’t argue. Didn’t push. You just smiled.
«Who said anything about a romantic fairy tale?», you teased.
Because you knew.
He was running.
And one day, he’d realize there was nowhere left to hide.
Alastor kept his distance after that night.
Not in an obvious way — no, he was far too cunning for that. He still laughed with you, still appeared at your side with a flourish and a grin, still teased you like nothing had changed.
But it had.
You saw it in the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the way his hands would twitch when he got too close, the way his smile would slip — only for a fraction of a moment — whenever you so much as met his eyes for too long.
He was unraveling, and he knew it.
But Alastor didn’t unravel. He didn’t falter. He was chaos, but controlled chaos. And yet, you had done something to him.
And he hated it.
It came to a head one evening, the two of you alone in one of the lesser-used sitting rooms of the hotel. Rain pattered against the windows, and the room was dim, lit only by the flickering glow of an old lamp. It cast long shadows, twisting along the walls like they were alive, like they were watching.
You were watching too.
Alastor had been quiet all night, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair, his smile a little too sharp, his posture a little too tense.
«You’re avoiding me», you broke the silence with ease, not bothering to mask the amusement in your voice.
Alastor’s fingers stilled. His eyes flickered toward you, red and unreadable. Then — laughter. Bright, grating, forced.
«Now why would I do a thing like that, darling?», his voice was its usual sing-song self, but it lacked its usual bite. «I think you must be imagining things! After all... I am here, with you, all alone».
You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm. «Am I?».
He hesitated.
It was brief, but it was still there.
A moment of hesitation, a sliver of uncertainty, and that was all you needed.
«Do you regret it?», you asked, voice softer now.
He went very still.
The shadows stretched around him, his antlers casting long, spindly shapes against the wall. The radio static that always followed him crackled just beneath the surface, an unspoken tension thrumming between you both.
Then — he laughed again, but this time, there was no humor in it.
«Regret?», he cocked his head, grin stretching unnaturally wide.
«Now why would I regret something so insignificant?».
You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even blink.
«Then why are you running from it?»
His smile twitched. It was the smallest thing — so small most people wouldn’t have noticed. But you weren’t most people.
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if shaking off something he couldn’t name. Then, with a sudden, almost violent movement, he was out of his chair and in front of you, too fast for you to react. One gloved hand braced against the chair’s armrest, the other hovering just near your face, fingers curling like he wanted to touch you but couldn’t.
Couldn’t.
Or wouldn’t.
You held your breath, but you didn’t look away.
«You think you’re so clever», he murmured, voice too low, too smooth, like a blade hidden beneath silk. «Poking at things you don’t understand. Playing a game you don’t know the rules to».
You smiled, slow and knowing.
«Then tell me the rules, Alastor», your voice firm and your gazes locked.
His breath hitched. Just for a second. And then, something in him snapped.
His lips were on yours before you even had a chance to react.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft.
It was a collision — sharp, desperate, edged with something neither of you had words for yet. His hand finally found your face, going against his instinct to give up on you, on your skin. Gloved fingers pressing into your skin, as if grounding himself, as if keeping himself from slipping through the cracks of something he couldn’t understand.
For a moment — just a moment — he let himself have this.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.
He pulled away as if burned, eyes wide, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came.
Then — he laughed.
It was sharp, grating, too loud for the room.
A poor attempt at covering the tremor in his hands, the way his whole body seemed to be fighting against something it couldn’t name.
«Well, now!», he straightened, adjusting his tie with an exaggerated flourish. «That was certainly
 enlightening!»
You didn’t speak. You just looked at him.
Waiting.
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
«But I do believe I’ve kept you up far too late, my dear! Sweet dreams and all that!»
And before you could so much as blink, he was gone, vanished into the shadows like he had never been there at all.
But you knew better.
Because this time — he was the one running.
And sooner or later, he’d have to stop.
The distance didn’t last.
Of course, it didn’t.
You were attracted to each other like two magnets, the attraction for each other was too strong.
Alastor could run. He could retreat into the static, into the shadows, into the illusion that nothing had changed. But it had. And now, it was eating him alive.
It had been days since that kiss, since he had fled from you like a man on the edge of something he couldn’t name, something he couldn’t control. You had given him space, knowing he would break before you ever had to chase him.
And tonight, he did.
It was well past midnight when he found you.
The storm outside had swallowed the sky whole, thunder rolling in waves, rain hammering against the windows like impatient fingers demanding entry. The dim light of the hotel flickered, struggling against the pull of something unseen, something raw and waiting in the air.
You were in the lounge sitting on the sofa, the piano under the moonlight that created nostalgic atmospheres with the shadows of the reflections.
Alastor stood near the grand piano in the lounge, back turned to you, shoulders stiff beneath his coat. The room was empty, silent but for the faint crackle of radio static, seeping from him like a wound he couldn’t close.
You stepped forward.
«Alastor».
He didn’t turn.
«I should have left», he said, voice thick.
His voice was different. Not his usual sing-song lilt, not his playful, taunting tone. It was quiet. Unsteady. Almost human.
You frowned. «Left?»
He let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking his head.
«The moment I met you, I should have left».
Finally, he turned, and when he did, you nearly forgot how to breathe.
Alastor had always been unsettling — too sharp, too knowing, always grinning like he was two steps ahead of everyone else. But now
 now he just looked wrecked.
His red eyes burned, feverish, his usual grin nowhere to be found. Instead, his lips were slightly parted, like he wanted to speak but couldn’t form the words.
You stepped closer, and this time, he didn’t back away.
«What are you so afraid of?», you asked, voice gentle.
His jaw clenched. «Don’t».
«Don’t what?»
He exhaled sharply, running a gloved hand through his hair.
«This», he whispered.
«You...», he gestured wildly, like the very idea of you existing in his world was an offense to the natural order of things.
«It’s not supposed to happen like this».
You searched his face. «Like what?»
His eyes flashed. «Like this!»
And suddenly, his hands were on you — gripping your arms, pulling you close, too close.
You could feel the tremor in his fingers, the barely contained storm raging beneath his skin.
«You think I don’t know what you’re doing to me?», he whispered, voice rough, unsteady. «You think I don’t feel it? The way you—», his breath hitched. «The way you’re ruining me?»
Your heart pounded. «Ruining you?»
His grip tightened.
«I don’t love. I don’t want. Not like this».
His voice shook, something raw bleeding through the cracks in his mask.
«Not until you», his voice a tremor.
The words sent a shiver down your spine.
You lifted a hand, brushing your fingers over his jaw, his skin burning even through the gloves. «Alastor »
He sucked in a sharp breath, as if your touch had cut him open, and for the first time, he didn’t move away.
«I hate this...», he confessed, voice barely above a whisper.
«I hate you», he said again.
«I hate that you’re in my head.
That I dream of you.
That every time I close my eyes, all I see is you. I hate it because I can’t stop it. I hate it because I don't want to stop it».
His forehead rested against yours now, his breath mingling with yours, the storm outside howling like a beast.
You swallowed hard. «Then stop running».
He stilled.
You slid your hands up his chest, fingers curling into his coat, holding him there, as if anchoring him to this moment.
«I don’t want you to love me if it means destroying you. But I see you, Alastor. The real you. And I’m not afraid».
His whole body shuddered, as if your words had shattered something inside him.
And then, before you could say anything else, he kissed you.
It was nothing like before.
There was no hesitation this time, no fleeting, confused touches.
This was something deeper, something desperate, something starving.
His hands tangled in your hair, his body pressing against yours like he wanted to disappear into you, like he wanted to drown in the feeling.
You gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound greedily, his grip unrelenting, as if letting go would tear him apart. The static around you roared, the air splitting with unseen energy, lights flickering wildly. The very room seemed to bend around him, as if he was losing control of everything but this.
When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged, his hands still cradling your face like he didn’t dare let go.
His voice was hoarse, barely audible.
«You ruined me, my dear. You have no idea what it means to want you mine. What it means to be mine. Like a poison you have corroded my mind. My heart».
You smiled. «No. I saved you», a shiver runs down your spine.
Alastor let out a sharp breath, something like laughter, something like surrender.
Then, with a slow, almost reverent touch, he kissed you again.
And this time, he didn’t run.
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guiltyasdave · 1 year ago
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jana hi me again đŸ«Ł could i have the prompt 28 "No one ever cared about me like you."
with either javi p or joel đŸ« â€ïžđŸ€Ž
take my hand, wreck my plans
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pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
word count: 557
summary: Javi seeks out your company after a rough day.
tags/warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, mention of food, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, idiots in love because of who i am as a person (let me know if i missed something!)
a/n: i have once again been possessed by angsty thoughts and somehow, this came out of it. i hope you like this eden @reddedmiller and i’m sorry that it took three months lol. thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading đŸ«¶đŸ»
dividers by @saradika-graphics as always because they’re the best <3
find my full masterlist here & follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates :)
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He knocks on your door at 2 in the morning, all but collapses into your arms as soon as you swing it open, tired eyes and heavy limbs that melt into your embrace.
Your colleagues had warned you when he started coming over to your desk, inviting you out for lunch, about how he would chew you up and spit you out, like he did with half of the female staff at the embassy. You hadn’t listened, waving them off and going out with him anyway. First for a quick lunch break, then for after work drinks, then for dinner.
It was fun, a distraction, something to do and someone to know in this city where everything was foreign to you and where you felt more alone than ever before in your life.
It’s more, now. It doesn’t have a definition exactly, but you both know it. You’re the person he turns to when he needs somebody, and you’ll gladly be that for him.
“Do you have something to drink?” His face is sullen as he slumps down on your couch, like the weight of the world crushed him today. You furrow your brow.
“When was the last time you ate something, Javi?”
“‘M not hungry,” he grumbles, confirming your suspicion that he most likely survived the day solely on cigarettes and coffee.
You lean over the couch, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders from behind. His head falls back against you like he can’t help himself.
“I’m gonna make you a sandwich and get you some whiskey, okay?” Inching closer, you press a gentle kiss against his neck, just below his ear.
He sits up a little straighter and turns to you, reluctance in his eyes.
“Querida, it’s the middle of the night, you don’t have to-”
You shake your head and kiss him again, on his cheek this time. “It’s okay. I want to.”
He leans back hesitantly but doesn’t seem to have the energy to fight you on it, so your lips find his face once more before you head for the kitchen.
Watching him all but devour the food has you hiding your smile behind your own glass of whiskey. He already looks a little better.
“Not hungry, huh?” you tease, your voice light.
“Shut up,” comes his short reply, but his lips are twitching.
He has half a mind to stumble out of your flat again afterwards, but you convince him to stay, that it’s really no problem.
He takes a quick shower, mumbling about washing the day away, and you wait in bed, the warm light from your bedside lamp illuminating the room, until he slips under the covers beside you.
You wrap your arms around him again and hold him close, your fingers drawing shapes on his chest. He clears his throat, shifting awkwardly.
“Thank you,” he eventually mumbles, his voice low in the darkness.
“Of course, Javi.” He tends to get like that, struggling to receive any kind of affection or care when he feels like he has nothing to give back.
He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “No, seriously. No one ever cared about me like you. I- thank you.”
You sigh and pull him tighter into you, your face buried in his hair. You’ll care for him as long as he lets you.
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thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment because they make me really happy đŸ€
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d0rianw1lde · 4 months ago
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Omg.. please
 Eddie’s first. Right at Wayne’s.. hurt me some more đŸ«ŁđŸ« đŸ˜­đŸ”Ș
>:))
That first night? When Wayne’d gotten a ring from the police station, his brother on the other end begging him for just a bit of cash? Bailing his brother out was the last thing on Wayne’s mind- he’d dropped the phone rand left it dangling by the cord in the mad-dash to Al’s trailer. Door unlocked, lights off, freezing in the dead of winter, Wayne was worried his 8 year-old nephew had taken it upon himself to go find help.
But Wayne was able to find him. Shivering in his sleep in Al’s bedroom. Wayne was confused when he’d went to pull back what he thought was a blanket from Eddie’s curled up frame, and instantly shattered when he realized that it was no blanket at all. No, the soft, floral fabric draped over the young boy belonged to one of his mother’s favorite dresses. (‘Still smells like ‘er.’. Eddie would explain some time after the event, his voice still stitched with his mama’s southern twang.).
It’d been days since Al had gone to jail- lord knows what this poor kid had been eating, how he’d been getting by. He’s just happy he was able to swoop his poor nephew up before any more harm could be done.
Wayne had stopped at Benny’s on the way back- watched Eddie scarf down a burger and fries, all big brown eyes and freckles, nervously glancing around as if he were expecting the world to collapse beneath him. Wayne tries to talk to him, but it’s as if Eddie’s out of words. He can’t speak- he just stares, his eyes twinkling wildly against the lights of the diner, mouth filled with food, and fingers still trembling. But Wayne doesn’t push it- he speaks, lets Eddie listen, smiles when he can get a nod or two out of the boy.
And when they get home, Wayne is quick to give up his bed. And Eddie stares, nodding before he slips quietly into the bedroom. A silent goodnight- one that leaves Wayne nervous. It’s only amplified when he hears quiet sniffling from the bedroom, and immediately hops up from the pull-out couch to peek into the bedroom. He doesn’t see much- just a bundle of blankets smushed all the way at the corner of the bed, moving slightly thanks to Eddie’s sniffling form underneath.
“What’s wrong kiddo?”
There’s no answer. Wayne sits on the bed beside the bundle, and wrings his hands nervously.
“
Your pops letcha watch cartoons after bedtime?”
To this, Eddie peeks out from his little blanket hideout. He nods, and Wayne chuckles.
“‘Course he does, he ain’t around much to tell you what to do
Y’ever have a hot cocoa when you watch em?”
Eddie wipes his eyes, and his lip trembles. He shakes his head, and Wayne nods toward the door.
“C’mon. Go sit by the television and put somethin’ you wanna watch on, and I’ll make you something warm.”
Eddie nods, slipping out of Wayne’s comforter to pad off into the living room, where he crawls onto the floor to mess with Wayne’s television dial. Wayne watches him, peeking up from heating up his cocoa to watch as Eddie fidgets with the dial, finally landing on something that catches his eye. He’s so surprised at how quiet Eddie is- he’d never seen a kid so polite. And when he approaches Eddie with a cup of cocoa topped with an inordinate amount of whipped cream, he lets out a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding when Eddie cracks a smile, showing off his little gapped grin and a missing tooth. He taps the mug given to him, and grins.
“Garfield.”
Wayne grins, giving Eddie a low chuckle as he nods. “Y’like that cat? I like ‘im too. He’s funny, ain’t he. I’ve still got the paper with his comic, y’know, if y’wanna read the funnies.”
Eddie nods, and takes a sip of his cocoa carefully, grinning when whipped cream dots his nose and lip.
And it’s a step in the right direction. It soothes Wayne’s fear of making Eddie feel uncomfortable- it warms Eddie up to him. And it warms Wayne’s heart when Eddie, belly full and eyes half-lidded, ends up leaning into Wayne’s shoulder and falling asleep there. Warm. Content.
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mssorceressupreme · 10 months ago
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hiii, i really love your minho ficc, its just so good 😭. and i wonder if i could make a request? anw, im sorry for my bad english đŸ« 
it's minho x fem reader, when the reader is her gf and the one who caught the flare instead of newt when trying to save him from wicked
hiii thank you bae đŸ„čđŸ«¶đŸŒ of course, I’m delighted to write this for you!! I wasn’t sure if you wanted said reader to live or die for this but for the sake of a happy ending I’ll make a her live LMAOO but I’ll still make it angsty-ish?
——
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Lose You
Pairing: Minho x Reader
Summary: in which you caught the flare, and Minho will do anything not to lose you.
Warnings: mentions of blood, collapsing, injuries and explosions
——
The Last city was chaos—fire and smoke filled the air, the deafening sounds of battle surrounded you. You clung to consciousness, your vision blurring as you fled WCKD’s facility.
Thomas, Newt and Gally were ahead, their figures barely visible through the haze, but Minho stood right beside you, his grip on your hand tight and reassuring.
“Keep moving guys!” Thomas shouted over his shoulder, though he paid a little more attention to you as he knew about your condition. Minho on the other hand, was oblivious.
You guys had just escaped the facility, no way were you going to break the news to him so soon. Especially since you knew that he would hate himself for not being able to keep you safe given his protective nature.
You nodded, trying to keep up with Thomas, but each step felt like a monumental effort. The adrenaline that had fuelled your rescue mission was fading, replaced by a deep, gnawing fatigue.
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and a sharp pain throbbed in your chest. The world around you spun, and your injuries from fighting the WCKD soldiers previously were worsening.
The boys came to a halt and the five of you stopped behind a pillar, shielding yourselves from the gunfires and erupting explosions temporarily.
“We’re almost there, just need to wait for a clear coast.” Gally affirmed, glancing to you swiftly to check if you were alright.
You gasped, inhaling for air, before your legs gave in, “Minho
” you weakly called out.
Minho caught you in his arms to stop your fall, gently stroking your head, “Y/N!” His voice was frantic while he held you upright.
You tried to speak to reassure him, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you looked up at him, your vision dimming and saw the panic in his eyes.
You felt your chest tightening and your lungs closing in on you, breathing was a struggle but you continued panting and gasping for air and coughing.
Minho was saying something but you found it hard to focus. All you could see was the way his face twisted in fear and concern.
Another bomb exploded near you, causing the five of you to stumble.
“Stay low guys!” Newt yelled out, “Don’t breathe in the smoke!”
“Y/N stay with me,” Minho begged, while sitting on the floor to get a firmer grip of you, while you rested in his lap. Thomas helped lower you down to prevent you from getting injured further.
Minho glanced down at your arm, and his eyes widened in horror.
You followed his gaze and saw the dark, web-like veins spreading all over your arm. Your heart sank as you realised how quickly the virus had spread, you felt that your chances of surviving were now slim.
“No,” Minho whispered, his voice trembling, “No, no, no
.”
“Minho
” You managed to choke out.
He lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. “We’re going to get you out of here,” he assured, “I’m not losing you, do you hear me? I’m not losing you!”
Newt came to check up on you, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, “Brenda has the serum, we’ve got to get to her now!”
“How long has she been like this?
” Minho whispered to Newt, not wanting me to hear.
Thomas answered before Newt, “She’ll be alright, let’s just get her to the serum. She’ll be okay Minho.” He put his arm on Minho’s shoulder as a form of consolation.
“We need to move now!” Gally commanded, helping you up from Minho’s lap.
“I’ll carry her! You guys cover me!” Minho shouted, while picking you up bridal style, holding you closely to his chest.
The battle raged around you, but Minho moved with a single-minded focus, dodging gunfire and explosions. You could feel his heart pounding against you, his breath coming in sharp bursts.
Thomas and Newt reappeared, “How is she holding up?”
You were still breathing heavily and rapidly, gasping for every bit of oxygen.
Minho lifted your sleeve, “It’s spreading like wildfire
” his voice wavering slightly.
“We need to get her to the Berg now.” Thomas firmly said, loading up his gun before running through the battling city again.
As Minho ran, you could feel your consciousness slipping. The edges of your vision darkened and your body felt heavier with each passing second. You tried to keep your eyes open, to stay focused, but the flare was growing stronger, darkening your mind.
“Stay with me, Y/N,” He whispered, “Stay with me baby.”
Just then, your mind became total blackness.
A violent shudder wracked your body, a guttural growl escaped your lips. Your limbs twisted in unnatural angles, feeling an overwhelming urge to lash out. The world around you turned red and you shoved Minho with inhuman strength, causing him to drop you from his arms.
“Y/N, NO!” Minho shouted, voice filled with horror and desperation.
You growled at him again, black blood dripping from your mouth. Eyes bloodshot, veins popping out from your neck and arms.
You then lunged at Minho, nails sharp, a snarl escaping your lips. Your mind screamed at your body to stop, but the flare had taken over, turning you into a crank.
Minho dodged the attacks, eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and pleas, “Y/N! It’s me, Minho!”
You ignored him and continued to attack, trying to lunge at him with a knife.
“Gally, Thomas, Newt! Run ahead and get the serum from Brenda now!” Minho shouted, the other three fleeing as a result.
“I’m not fighting you! I refuse to!” He yelled, dodging every hit.
“Y/N, fight it!” He pleaded, dodging yet another swipe.
“I can’t
” the human side of you managed to whisper, before the flare occupied your mind again.
“I know you’re in there. Fight it!” He managed to pin you down, being on top of you.
Your body moved on its own, a primal urge to destroy and fight everything in your path. Minho blocked your attacks, eyes filled with tears.
Minutes felt like hours as you fought, each movement filled with pain and sorrow. Just when you thought you would lose yourself completely, you heard footsteps approaching.
Thomas appeared clutching the serum, “Catch!” He tossed it to Minho.
Thomas threw the serum to Minho. With one last sorrowful look at you, he plunged the needle into your arm. The effect was immediate.
The red haze lifted, and your body went limp. Darkness consumed you and you collapsed into Minho’s arms. Total darkness.
——
You slowly opened your eyes, the chaos was gone. You sat up and checked your surroundings, to your surprise, you were lying in the Berg, its engines humming softly. There were around 30 kids here, along with your fellow gladers.
Minho sat beside you, his hand clasped tightly around yours.
“Minho?” You croaked, your voice weak.
His eyes snapped to yours, relief flooding his face. “Y/N! You’re awake!!”
“I
I thought I lost you.” You whispered, tears streaming down your face, “I had a dream we fought and
oh, I’m so sorry
”
He pulled you into his arms, “It’s alright baby. You’re safe now,” he said, “We’re heading to the Safe Haven. We made it.”
You smiled weakly, heart swelling with love and relief, “I love you, Minho.”
“I love you too, Y/N.” He replied, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
As the Berg soared through the sky, you knew you had a long road ahead, but with Minho by your side, you felt ready to take on the next challenge. Together, you would find a way to survive and build a new life in the Safe Haven.
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hp-hcs · 1 year ago
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the middle — sweetie pie! theodore nott x gn! grieving! reader
prompt #11 of the slytherin boys x reader thingy i made
11) Theodore Nott + angst + fluff + The Middle — Jimmy Eat World
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why is this man so babygirl
requests open
the request asked for afab she/her but i wrote this entire thing and only just now realized there’s literally nothing in here that makes it gender-specific so- hopefully that’s fine đŸ«  (a couple mentions of reader being smaller than theo though)
TWs: heavily implied background character suicide, background character death, non-sexual nudity
i wrote this plot mostly for myself, but you can read it too i guess
‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱
Based on these lyrics from Jimmy Eat World’s The Middle:
‘It just takes some time/ Little girl, you're in the middle of the ride/ Everything, everything'll be just fine/ Everything, everything'll be alright, alright’
~~~
You slam the door to your dorm room shut, one hand pressed over your mouth and the other wrapped across your stomach as you slide down the back of the door. Sitting on the floor in your dark, cold dorm, the dam of tears finally breaks, quickly spiraling into chest-heaving sobs.
The only sounds are the shuddering gasps of air you draw in before another round of keening cries claws it’s way from your throat.
How could he?
How could I not have noticed?
Your hands tremble.
Did it hurt?
You can see your skin prickle with goosebumps, but you can’t feel any chill.
You’re just numb.
Through your cries, you can hear a tentative knock on your door.
“Go away!” you shout, voice cracking.
“Y/N?” A voice—your boyfriend, Theodore—calls out softly. “Can I come in, darling?”
“No! Go away!”
Theo is quiet for a moment before his muffled voice drifts through the door again. “Okay, sweetheart. I’m here if you need anything, alright?”
You can hear him hover by the door for another moment before he leaves. Scrubbing your hands over your face, your eyes red and bloodshot, your skin sticky with tears, you drag yourself off of the floor and collapse into your bed. You start sobbing heavily into your pillow, curling underneath your blankets and shaking with sobs.
True to his word, Theo doesn’t bother you. He just lets you be. At some point, however, you do hear a muffled alohamora and the quiet sound of your door opening then closing again.
You roll over to face the door with a scowl and an order to leave me alone, but instead see no one there except a new addition of a plate and bowl on your desk.
He must’ve brought you dinner.
The smell of the slice of freshly baked apple pie wafting over to you is tempting, but even the warm cinnamon and sugary crust seem lackluster.
You roll back over.
~~~
You wake the next morning to Theo crawling into your bed quietly, laying down next to you and looking at you with those lovely tea-with-cream colored eyes. He says nothing, but brings a hand up to cup your cheek, stroking over your cheekbone with his thumb. You break, mournful sobs wrenching themselves from your throat. Theo slides his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, gently pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. He shushes you softly.
“W-why di-d he do i-it?” you stammer out between cries and heaving sobs. He just shakes his head.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he says softly, somberly. “I just don’t know.”
“I sh-should’ve n-noticed.”
“Hey, no. Don’t blame yourself, baby. There’s no way you could’ve known.”
You press your head further against his chest, hiding your face in his shirt. He tightens his grip around you and starts combing his fingers through your hair, shushing you gently and pressing a kiss against your forehead.
Eventually, your sobs die down, him still petting your hair soothingly. After a long moment, punctuated only by your occasional sniffles, Theodore sighs.
“Baby, let’s get you cleaned up,” he swipes his thumb under your eye, wiping off the now-drying tears. You sniffle once more before nodding, your lower lip trembling.
Theo slips out of bed, tucking the blankets back in around you, and pads off towards the bathroom. A few seconds later, you can hear the water running as he starts a bath. He pads back in, hovering by the bedside before suddenly scooping you up.
You squeak in surprise, clinging onto his shoulders. He just carries you into the bathroom, setting you down on the counter. You pout at him, shivering in the slight chill. He mock-pouts back at you, mimicking your expression playfully. Theo stands between your knees as your legs dangle from the counter, before tugging gently at your rumpled tie.
“Can I take this off, baby?”
You nod slowly, beginning to unbutton your uniform shirt to help. He knocks your hands away to do it himself, helping you out of the rest of your clothes while keeping his eyes respectfully averted.
He lifts you off the counter and sets you on your feet, holding your hand as you step into the bath and sit down. He starts to leave when you lean over the edge of the bathtub and catch his sleeve.
“Stay? Please?” You plead quietly.
Theo’s face softens as he shuts the door, turning back to you. He tugs off his shirt (a nice sight), then kicks off the rest of his clothes (an even better sight). You scoot forward in the tub so he can climb in behind you, settling down with his legs on either side of you.
Theodore gently tugs your shoulders back so you lay against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. He kisses the side of your neck softly.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he mumbles against your neck, his thumb gently rubbing your side, along the bottom of your ribcage.
You sigh and lean further back into him. He says nothing, just holding you. Just being there for you.
He helps you dunk your head under the surface, then massages shampoo into your hair, his nails gently scraping your scalp. Theo helps rinse out the shampoo, handing you the bottle of his favorite soap as he does so.
You lather your body, the warm scent of vanilla and sandalwood being a nice, familiar comfort. When Theo’s finished washing your hair, he presses a kiss to the nape of your neck and clambers out of the bathtub. He helps you out, wrapping a fluffy towel around you and drying off himself.
Theodore gives you one of his t-shirts, which fits more like a dress, and a pair of his plaid pajama pants that you have to cinch tight around the waist in order for them to fit. When you’re both dressed, he scoops you up again and carries you to your bed, dumping you onto it and joining you as you burrow under the covers.
As you curl into his side, he wraps his arms around you again. Theodore says nothing, just letting you think and grieve.
It’s enough.
‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱
i am not doing okay đŸ€ đŸ‘
not edited, written while i was sprinting to a lecture on the complete other side of my college campus <3
US National Suicide and Crisis Hotline: 988
Trevor Project Hotline: 1-866-488-7386
Trevor Project Textline: Text START to 678-678
YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
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lostsyren · 4 months ago
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i was just thinking about the potential ways rafe and sofia could've met bc those mfs didn't give it to us and i thought of one where rafe could've gotten too drunk one night and sofia sees this and has to take him home, she stays and makes sure he's ok until he wakes up or writes a note to him and leaves the night unbeknownst to him who took him back to his house other than a note and a name (assuming she knows who rafe cameron is and where he lives, bc he's a big name around kildare) until he goes back to the pelican yacht club the next day and sees someone with the name tag 'sofia' at the bar and approaches her, the rest is history
100% agree!! Their first meeting not even being shown to us, leaving us to speculate?? What kind of stupidity is that? It’s like they were trying to set Fiona/Sofia up to fail (they were lucky she’s so charming and lovely).
I LOVE THIS IDEA SMMMM!!! STOPP IM OBSESSEDD!! I beg you write it!! Like anyone who sends in cool ideas, WRITE THEM PLEASEEEEE!! Like I for sure would but I’m a chronic procrastinator and have already got sm asks and a whole other fic I need to be focusing onđŸ«  (which I’m grateful for, ty to all of you for readingđŸ«¶đŸ˜ž)
Like Sofia offering to drive him home, and Rafe still being responsive but like drunk to the point of being completely devoid of inhibition.
They reach Tannyhill and she has to help carry/sneak this 6ft, massive guy inside. Like he’s just loudly fumbling with the keys and being so loud she’s just trying to shut him up. They eventually reach his room without running into any of the Cameron family and he just collapses into bed.
And then Sofia thinks he’s just this asshole, jerk, entitled kook guy but then he says smth like
“You know you’re soooo nice, no one usually helps me when I’m high and wasted, they just let me fuck up and get in trouble– so thank you yeah? If Ward or Sarah saw me I’d be done for. They already hate me like I’m the worst person in the world.”
All slurred and drunken. And Sofia’s heart stirs for the boy. She thought he was the worst person in the world– but for a fleeting moment she just sees Rafe as a hurt boy who doesn’t have anyone he can count on.
And Rafe falls asleep and Sofia takes off his shoes and covers him with a blanket. She snoops around his room for a bit, seeing pictures of when he was kid, all the certificates he won when he was in school still framed, before leaving.
That’s when she runs into Sarah on the landing. They don’t say anything, Sarah just looks at her with a bored and withering expression before helping her sneak out.
Then the next day Rafe wakes up hungover, not remembering a thing. He wonders how he ended up in bed and when he leaves his room he’s surprised Ward didn’t shout at him or anything. Then Sarah says something which confuses him:
“Hooking up with the club bartender Rafe? Really?”
He’s confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh don’t play dumb, I saw her sneaking out of your room last night.”
“Who?” He didn’t remember hooking up with anyone last night (s1 Rafe who has maybe one to two bodies and is painfully awkward with girls and at sex and accounts for it with over confidence and douchebaggery is canon to me)
“You know, short dark hair, bangs, tiny
you see her everyday at the bar Rafe.”
The memories slowly start to trickle back.
And then he goes back to the country club trying to find the bartender he vaguely remembers called Sofia. To do what? Threaten her? She better not tell anyone about his embarrassing, drunken performance. Or thank her? For selflessly helping him out and saving him from his family’s ire.
He hasn’t decided yet.
Ughhh stop s1Rafe x Sofia is soooo special to me, tysm for this ideaaaa!! (Someone write it please😞)
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witchersoldier · 2 years ago
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Stars He Hung // part three
azriel x fem!reader
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PART ONE PART TWO
SUMMARY: He hung the stars for you. Then he made you cry them all.
WARNINGS: (+16) angst, cursing, aggression, use of Y/N, fluff, bad and rushed writing, not proof read.
WORD COUNT: +1800
AUTHOR'S NOTE: English is not my mother tongue, so forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes. Also I feel so sorry it took me almost one year to write and post this last bit. I don't even know how to feel about this one. It's like it's missing something, but I don't know what. I had other two versions of this, but this felt less worse đŸ« 
tag list (I don't even know if you guys still want a tag in this, but here we go): @clara-geekhime @yakoxshadow @feysandzoyalailover @tell-me-a-poem @positivewitch @marina468 @lucyysthings @peachy-aisha @starrsstruck-blog @lovelyladymayy
‱‱‱
Seconds, minutes, hours. I lost track of time. The memories I just now recovered punched me so hard into a loop of sorrow, rage and grief. Spiraling into the darkest emotions, but all I could see was light. Fucking starlight.
That agonizing tug at my heart and the torturous pain from being away from Azriel, it was all because of the mating bond. A mating bond he was aware of and simply choose to ignore. Did I really mean nothing to him? Nothing, to the point where he didn’t even try to reject it?
The air around me was suffocating, and the only thing keeping me grounded was my firm grip on the edges of the wooden dresser. A grip slowly loosening its strength. Inside me, all over my body I could feel something begging to crawl out of me. A power so strong and angry, itching to explode and wreak havoc. Begging to destroy the world outside just as much as I felt broken inside and I had no control over it. Panic begun creeping up my spine and star tears continued spilling out of my eyes. Rapid shallow breaths coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t think straight, but I knew I was doomed from the moment lilac tendrils of power slowly seeped from the tip of my fingers, then growing into my hands and arms and my chest, until it was wrapped around me entirely.
An alarmed pang echoed throughout my ribcage, centering me back in the room ever so slightly that I could hear faint shouts and footsteps. Suddenly, hands passed through the cocoon of power I trapped myself in and touched my forehead and cheeks, grabbed my arms and legs, lifting me off the ground. My sight was blurred and too bright, but I caught a glimpse of Rhysand’s once deep violet eyes, they’re so washed-out now. ‘Within the first five days, the colors you see will start to fade away’. The chance to reach out to the High Lord and beg for his help slipped with a gush of cold wind. Winnowed. Someone winnowed me away from the house and the people living there. Thankfully. Because as soon as I felt the ground beneath me again, a fraction of my power shattered through my veins and into the world.
★
My uncontrolled outburst was barred by shadows and a blue power shield that I recognized all too well. The Illyrian male I so naively fell for, the reason for all this troubled commotion, my mate. Azriel.
I looked up into his eyes, still so colorful. Strong honey irises staring back at me, bright with a bit of concern and fear. Of course it would go down like that; he would be the last thing to vanish, he would remain just to spite me.
Taking in my surroundings, I recognized Azriel had winnowed us just outside Rhys’ cabin in the Illyrian mountains. I also realized how close we were to each other, his hands holding me safely close to him, almost clinging onto me, as if in fear I’d collapse. I harshly slid my hands between us and up to his chest, pushing him as far and hard as I could, “Y/N, please” Azriel whispered, his soft voice mixed a bit with a husky tone. He dared take a step forward and as his hands tried to reach mine I noticed they were covered in fresh bruises. Despite of me knowing better and him not deserving my attention, I couldn’t help but still worry about it. As soon as he touched me I came to my senses again, feeling the unbearable heartache threatening to drown me and the star tears continuing to blind me. Sorrow, rage, grief, the need of revenge and closure making their way back, awakening the momentarily calm pit of power. I threw punch after punch after punch at Azriel’s body not really caring where they landed, just wanting them to make him hurt like you are. Each time my fist touched him, sparkles of lilac power flew. “Y/N/N, please, let me talk to you.” He pleaded, but didn’t try to stop my assaults. “Now you want to talk, huh?” I screamed at his face, angry sad tears cascading down my cheeks nonstop. “You just couldn’t have talked to me before you tore my heart apart, right mate?” spatting the word out with so much venom, I waited for his reaction. Azriel only accepted my accusations and blows, curling into himself. I could’ve sworn tears also ran from his eyes, but surely it was only my compromised vision playing trick on me, my wishful soul fantasizing about something that would never be. “You are my mate and you fucking knew it. If you didn’t want that burden, you could’ve rejected this damned bond and be done with it. Be done with me! But you just had to crush my heart that I willingly put in your hands, drop it to the ground and stomp on it. Why did you do it? Why do you hate me so much?” once again I had an outburst of power, that caught Azriel by surprise and sent him stumbling back, falling on the ground covered with a thin layer of snow.
I was so tired of feeling this way, so tired of hurting, being angry and pitying myself. All the need to put up a fight disappeared, so did my strength. “Did I really mean so little to you?” was the last thing I said before dropping to my knees and sobbing, my hands clutching my sweater right above my heart. With my throat sore from the screaming seconds prior, I managed to slowly whisper to him, “I used to look at you like you hung the fucking stars on the sky, but in reality you’re the one who made them fall. I reject the b-” Azriel got up from his place on the ground so fast, running to me and dropping back down on his knees, one by each side of me, caging me in and covering my mouth with one hand, the other resting on my thigh. Looking up and staring deep in his wet honey-colored eyes, I felt wave after wave of regret, anguish, self-doubt and hate. “All I ever wanted was to love and to be loved in return. But the moment love came to me, I cowered and messed it all up like the damned fuck-up I am. I know sorry won’t fix it, I know that I took everything from you, but please don’t take this from me. I love you” Azriel begged, tears brimming his eyes. His hand that covered my mouth joined his other one on my lap, absent-mindedly fidgeting. He kept silent expecting my response, but I couldn’t bring myself to form any phrase at the moment. I broke down in cries once again, feeling overwhelmed by my feelings and his.
Azriel wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me into his chest and caressing my arms and back. I didn’t fight against him, but rather relaxed in his embrace. “It’s okay baby girl, I got you now. I am so very sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry”, he cried to me as I cried to him. He just held me there, allowing me to gather my thoughts as he shares his deepest feelings. Taking in all his emotions he’s showing through the mating bond. How much he hated himself, how unworthy he felt, the way he denied and dismissed all good things thrown his way. Azriel was trapped in a horrifying loop of desiring, achieving, self-doubting and giving up.
Slowly I back up from his embrace, wishing to look into his eyes as I speak, “Trust is something so easily broken and so hard to mend,” I spoke with a soft yet firm voice, “but love is a feeling that can remain strong even through stormy weathers. And the love that I feel for you, though shaken up, remains, Az.” Azriel silently nods and gives a weak smile. I cup his cheeks with my hands, carefully wiping his tears away with my thumbs. Azriel is so much taller than me, but at this moment he couldn’t look smaller, sinking into his shame. “I understand the turmoil of feelings you kept to yourself until now, I see them and they are valid, Az. It saddens me to know how you feel about yourself, but you let those feelings affect people around you, too. And that can’t go on.” He mouthed a weak ‘I’m sorry’ and shrunk into himself even more. “I love you too, Azriel. But you broke my trust and you made me hurt in ways I can’t describe”, my voice cracked at the end of my sentence. That made Azriel look back into my eyes, “I know angel, and for that I am sorry.” He sighs and I can see him trying to form the correct phrases to express him feelings aloud. “You said that you used to look at me like I hung the fucking stars on the sky,” I let out a weak giggle when he quoted me like that, he gave me a small grin “but now I am the one who took them out” he paused for a moment, taking deep breaths before resting his forehead against mine, “Y/N, please let me hang the stars back up again. Bigger and brighter, this time.”
My eyes were glued to his, our breath mixing together because of how close we are to one another. Through the bond I can sense how nervous he is and how much truth is behind his words. Without hesitation I capture his lips on mine. I was so familiar with the feeling of kissing Azriel’s soft lips, but this time it was different. This kiss is meaningful, full of passion. His hands make their way to cup my wet cheeks, and mine find their place around his neck. My fingers lock into his soft hair, gently pulling at it. Azriel licks my lips, begging to deepen the kiss. I pull away before I can completely surrender myself to him. For a brief moment I can feel the anxiousness on Azriel’s ending, but it’s soon replaced with relief and love when I let him feel and see all of my emotions.
“You’re the other half of me Az. You are my mate and I love you, so much.” I told him, pouring a bit of my heart out to him. “And you’re the better part of me, my angel, my mate. I love you, and I will never let you forget that.” Happy tears made their way into my eyes, and I noticed the lack of light in them. My tears were just tears again. Because my love wasn’t unrequited anymore. Sure we have a long path to take until we can completely heal, many obstacles we will have to face. But at this moment, for tonight, all I can think of is the stars he will hang.
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azzibuckets · 2 months ago
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woooo new part of afd! let’s go!!
All Paige can think about now is what she’s going to say when she sees Azzi again.
đŸ„€đŸż i am sat
The warmth of Azzi’s hands cupping her face makes her eyes flutter shut as she relishes the feeling of Azzi’s touch for the first time in weeks.
2 weeks of no contact/distancing is baffling to me cuz even covid couldn’t separate these two
Shaking her head, her mouth pulls into a frown. “You’re drunk, Paige,” she says simply. “Let’s go.”
hold your ground azzi
In the passenger seat, Paige crosses her arms over chest and rests her forehead against the window. “You’re disappointed in me.”
well whatever you did it must’ve been disappointing idk
“Best friend, my ass. Someone wouldn’t ignore their best friend for two fucking weeks.”
*sips drink* đŸ‘€đŸ„€ oop
Azzi inhales sharply, as if she’s suffocating and fighting for her last breath of air. “I don’t know what I did to make you so angry at me, but whatever it is, I’m sorry.” She turns her face away, swiping angrily at her eyes.
am i gonna cry? cuz i will đŸ„ș
And it fucking hurts, Paige, because you’re my best friend.” Her voice catches. “You’re my best friend and I love you and I don’t know why we’re falling apart.”
i might also fall apart😞 please reconcile
Paige steps out, goes over to the driver side and flings open the door, and in a flurry, Azzi’s stepped out of the car and is pressed against the door. Paige hovers over the younger girl, mouth centimeters from hers.
ugh not on the side of the road???
But Azzi, with her slightly mussed hair and her soft eyes, her full lips and the stress line in her eyebrow, is utterly intoxicating, and Paige can’t help but press her mouth to Azzi’s, her teeth biting at the softness of her bottom lip. She moves gently at first, but when Azzi lets out a breathy moan, it turns something in Paige feral, and she slides her hand around the waistband of her low-hanging sweats, thumbs pressing into the dip of her bare hipbones.
i expected nothing less than a make-up session
Paige has been living for 20 years but if this is what being alive is like then maybe kissing Azzi is what it feels like to take her first breath.
okay now she’s being dramatic 😒
“You fucked me and you left me alone in my bed the next morning. Then for weeks you ignore me, only to call me when you’re drunk off your ass to kiss me and fuck with my feelings again.”
ohâ€Šâ€ŠđŸ˜§đŸ˜ŹđŸ« đŸ«Ł my
 well
 ??? actions speak louder than words. but maybe i think it’s time to talk it out paige?
“It wasn’t fucking. Please don’t call it that.”
i mean your actions kinda defined it soo
“I’ve put up with you being with other girls, but I’m not going to let you treat me like one. I deserve more than that.”
*snaps fingers*
Paige’s eyes close. “I keep hurting you.” Her voice is throaty. “I don’t want to keep hurting you.”
fix it now pleeeeeeeeaseđŸ˜© i’m begging!

she’s not good enough for kind, lovely, sweet Azzi, and she never will be. Azzi deserves the world, Azzi deserves the world, and Paige can’t give her any of it. “I can’t do this for you. I can’t be this for you.” She stumbles over her words, her breath strangled as if her lungs are collapsing on themselves.
umm paige lets no downplay ourselves okay? let’s not self-sabotage yeah?
“I don’t wanna go back there,” Paige is crying now. “I wanna be with you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
oh the admission â˜čïžđŸ˜© my heart
“We’re gonna be okay,” she says, but it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than Paige.
the slow-burn angst is killing meee😣
gonna keep telling myself there’s a happy ending and that this is all for the plot😀.. besides that i enjoyed this and was definitely worth the wait. you and nivi never disappoint! have a lovely week!
-đŸ—‘ïž
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esorxy · 8 months ago
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word of honor ep31 is something else entirely
they get intercepted on their rescue mission and just as the assassin people were about to rush forward and start stabbing, guess who appears spinning out of nowhere to save his beloved one true soulmate its wkx wearing hot red robes with sexy red eyeshadow, who boomerangs his little paper fan and slices their throats all in one go, does another little spin for dramatic flavour and slowly flutters down like an autumn leaf in the wind, successfully making the most replayed segment of the episode 🍃
and then everything he says from this moment on is like "fuck you, im better than you, eat shit" and DPJ is like "yeah ur cool and all but you're only one person" as if he didnt just kill half your men in one swipe while flying. anyway then zzs is like "who said hes alone" and steps out of his little carriage looking like hes about to die. like bro!! you cant even stand chill tf out. wkx comes over and holds his boyfriend and gets full on whiplash from switching too fast between (1) gazing lovingly at zzs and (2) murderous stares assassin gvng.
then like 3000 ghosts come out from the forest looking for a nice fight with 20 men, half of whom are dead, and the rest of them just dip like nope not today
they all kneel for our favourite gays and then wkx kneels as well and zzs, who still looks like hes abt to collapse and die, is like "fuck yeah im still influential" and awkwardly pats wkx's head like hes some overgrown puppy, which is not entirely inaccurate ykwim
so our power couple gets like 20 more kids for the price of none, and head back to god knows where to meet đŸ˜± some more gaysđŸ˜± one of them is a healer and the other looks like asian robert sean leonard so... whats new 😼‍💹
wkx finds some time to wipe off his eyeshadow and everyone is ready to die for zzs suddenly, and wkx goes from đŸ„ș "a-xu is gonna live??" to walking back into ghost valley in the blink of an eye without even changing clothes. scorpion king is also there đŸ˜±đŸ˜± i didnt even know they were working together cos i skipped all of the boring old people scenes. the twinks face off in some intense power play conversation where everyone wants to top, wkx has a mid life crisis in his pajamas featuring genocide and suicide but then hes like but SOMEONE taught me to live love laugh aka im in love, finishing off a killer episode that fully lives up to the drama part of chinese drama. my man needs to be locked up. in a mental hospital.
bonus: zzs in ep32, freshly injured from having metal hooks stabbed through his shoulders, is like "noooo little girl don't you know i need alcohol to live???" huge announcement everyone youve dedicated your lives to following an alcoholic đŸ€Š
twink healer is like "bro u cant even taste shit" and james wilson is like "remember when u wanted me to find u a cute gf... but turns out... (ur gay)"
omg i wanted to stop, but like the dramatic clown ass scenes just keep coming what can a girl do đŸ€·
so zzs goes back to serving face (not that he ever really stopped) and he overhears that wkx is about to be forced off a cliff đŸ˜±. so flutters into this 50v1 fight with about 2% of the dramatic flair that wkx has, steps up to kiss him except they cant cos censorship, and is like "me n u against the world babe." đŸ€Š
yby comes too cos this drama is tiresome and neverending, and wkx is like "im tired, kill me đŸ« ", which is so relatable, but then he puts up a damn good fight before falling off the cliff from one tiny needle through the heart. zzs also jumps after him and everyone is like đŸ˜± even though they can literally fly.
but hes dead (not rly) so zzs burns his corpse by kicking a lamp at it and sits at the cliff to reminisce the good old times when he was a hobo and wkx followed him around like a clingy wife. he relapses into alcoholism and pulls all his nails out aaaand this is just romeo and juliet with gay and dramatic flair 😼‍💹
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when do they stop serving face honestly like im fed up đŸ€Š
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laxmiree · 2 years ago
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[CN] MLQC Lucien's Through Thousands of Mirrors event translation (Day 6 - Tuesday)
⚠ SPOILER ALERT ⚠
This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the event that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~
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Through Thousands of Mirrors Event | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 (You're here!) | Day 7 | HS/Uni SSR Story: Monochrome Scenery
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special thanks to @/ivioivioivi and @/endless-season for providing some insight and helping me translating this one đŸ«¶
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[MATH]
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Even Lucien occasionally struggles to get out of bed in the morning after compressing too much sleep time.
Especially on rainy, overcast days with gloomy lighting.
On mornings like this, rather than going to class, shouldn't he stay snugly under the cover and entertain himself by reading a few interesting research papers?
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[MATH/BIOCHEMISTRY]
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To be honest, these mathematical concepts are a bit too basic for Lucien.
However, the logic and beauty he experiences from mathematics still make him choose to follow the professor's lectures, revisit the interconnected logic and the joy of establishing inference.
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[BIOCHEMISTRY]
The weather and scenery are particularly nice in autumn.
The sentiment isn't limited to the students, even the biochemistry professor teaching the class thinks the same way.
The professor, who has a touch of romanticism, watches as another autumn leaf falls, and then suggests that everyone take their textbooks. He declares that the remainder of the class will be conducted outdoors.
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[PREVIEW/COMPUTER SCIENCE]
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Lucien, who is prepping in the library, looks at the stack of books next to him that almost toppling over, and begins to contemplate that he should perhaps minor in architecture.
After all, the notion of book piles collapsing and causing accidents sounds quite dangerous.
Especially when the books around him are getting higher and higher.
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[COMPUTER SCIENCE]
Software knowledge is inevitably required in experiments.
Hence, it is essential to study some programming-related courses for future research purposes.
Lucien diligently takes notes, absorbed in the ocean of code.
And then he reflects that there's more than one ocean in the world; shallowly dipping into this one for a brief taste will suffice, while the ocean of neuroscience next door is more suitable for deep dives and exploration.
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[BIOMED-LAB]
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Cultivating cells requires extreme care and meticulousness.
Any tiny mistake could cause all kinds of issues such as contamination.
The other students stare at Lucien’s pretty much perfect substrate with admiration and come up to ask for tips.
What tips? It’s just that back in the days when he was at BS’ labs, he'd been through this process where anything he tried to raise or cultivate eventually died*, that's all.
[*: This is a bit hard to translate, it is something like; whatever you raise, it will eventually die, it can be by accident or purpose.]
[...Probably in his eyes back then, life is just so fragile. There are no tips, just try your best to survive. Not exactly nihilism, just the reality he used to see đŸ« ]
[Anything might refer to cells, plants, lab animals, and... well, anything. There's no limit of ethics in BS labs.]
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[BIOMED-LAB]
On the way to the laboratory, Lucien notices that there is another long queue forming at the doughnut shop on the street corner.
From the perspective of quickly replenishing sugar, he thought maybe he should add a side dish to his lunch.
But considering the queue length... the cafeteria's burgers are more efficient.
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[LAB]
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With a few hours of rare free time, Lucien decides to attend the film screening event currently being held at the school.
The student besides him quietly complains about how to write an analytical paper on such a popular movie, and Lucien feels a bit lucky to be just an ordinary audience member.
[A bit amusing how he ended up to be program consultant who does more than analyze movies content so he can provide some insight and knowledge for MC's program hahađŸ€Ł]
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tainsan · 2 years ago
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ILY MOREE AAAA
no def, its just so him?? also YES i sgree mingi would 100% call his partner princess!! its just so him.. in very excited to hear the reast of the nicknames!! i feel like jongho would stick with a very simple baby or smth.. or hwd be the type of guy to just call u ur name cause 'well its YOUR name, part of YOU, why wld i wanna call u smth else??'
oh my god.. if ur screaming and giggling and rolling around I MIGHT GO INTO CARDIAC ARREST IM SOO EXCITED!! im rolling around just thinking abt it!! do we finally get to kiss them plsss say yes 😞 i love the trope if soft only for you and this fic is FEEDING ME!
YIKES make dure to rest and stuff should you get sick.. im preparing myself for possible broken bones from how many times ill slip in winter 😒
its actually not TOO crazy ig, its kinda calming down since i get this weekend off, and next weekend too, but on tuesdays its 2 and a half hours so i cant even go home before i go to rehearsal 😞 then sunday is 6-9 so three hours AND FRIDAYS ARE 4:30-8 but like going home would still take too long. this is my villain origin story and the air conditioner in our dance room thing SUCKS so its like 28 people dancing in a small room with no air conditioner..! ok end of rant sorry 😞 hows ur schedule sounf
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I actually think seonghwa would be really sweet with nicknames tbh😭😭😭 he’s such a sweetheart. Imo Yeosang would be more like “I’ll call you your name box it’s your name đŸ„žâ€ BUT THATS JUST MY OPINION
there may be a kiss scene coming up you never know đŸ€­ I’m so excited for you to read it ehehhehe. ISTG YOI GUYS ARE GONNA EXPLODE BUT DONT SUE ME OKAY. I’m a sucker for soft for you only trope so you beat believe there is much of that to come đŸ€­
Oh that’s not too bad but at the same time I would collapse on the spot. You’re stronger than me bae 😭😭😭 hell nah
.. no AC???? would be my villain arc too. Gonna be your sidekick though dw we will rock the world
Never apologise for ranting I love to hear from you 😭
My scheudle isn’t actually that bad im just really busy with my mental health and taking care of my mum bc Im practically her nurse😭
I was locked out of my house for over an hour today bc I forgot my keys so that’s how im going đŸ« 
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ltbarnes · 2 years ago
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Resurrection prologue
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Summary: Bucky Barnes was only nineteen when the lives of his parents and little sister were taken right in front of him by the ruthless members of the Odinson mob. His father’s mistakes have turned Bucky into a vengeful and cold shell of the charming boy he once was, now deeply rooted in the criminal lifestyle of the Stark mafia. Sudden attacks ignite the conflict between the two forces of the city, refueling the rivalry that has been rather tame for years. Nine years since Bucky’s life fell apart, he finds it shattering once more when what was supposed to be long dead returns to the living.
Pairing: brother!mafia!Bucky Barnes x adopted!sister!reader, mafia!Thor Odinson x reader, mafia!Loki Odinson x reader, eventual Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: violence, guns, blood, death, loss of family members
A/N: hi!! I’m back with another series not even two weeks after the last one finished đŸ«  been having this part in the drafts for a while and got a bunch of inspiration to write so here it is!! thank you everyone who read and reblog and comment, nothing makes me happier than hearing that people like what I do <3
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James Buchanan Barnes was nineteen years old and standing on the front porch of his father's house when his life shattered.
The smell of gun powder had not yet dissipated from the dewy air when he saw the blood beginning to mix with the rain water, slinking down the sewer six feet from the bodies.
A fourth gunshot rang out and splintered the wood right next to his head. Steve's arms tugged at him, forced him back inside while aching roars sounded through the neighborhood. His mother's name forced itself out of his lips on a string of sobs. Even then, when the hurt was so prominent that his breaths came in only every third second, he knew the way he viewed his life had been stomped on and splintered and pulverized until there was no trace of familiarity left.
The picture of your light blue dress slowly turning into dark red will forever be ingrained into Bucky's mind. It's there each time he falls asleep—the haunting look in your eyes when your gaze flickered up to him, two bullets lodged into your ten-year old stomach. Every time a child cries he retreats so far back into the memories that he keeps silent for the rest of the day.
Bucky had been upstairs, a record blasting on the highest volume with Steve spinning on the chair right next to him. His ma had yelled at him only two minutes prior—to look after his sister downstairs, if he would be so kind. He'll never know if his mother suspected who the people on the other side of the door were. Would she have walked right into that, knowing the violence they would inflict on her, on her daughter, on Bucky's sister?
It's hard to envision a day when he could forgive himself for being too late. For sighing and huffing in irritation for too many minutes before he made his way downstairs. The shots rang through the neighborhood right when he stood up to leave his room. You were already kneeling by your dying mother's side when he caught sight of the door swung right open at the end of the hallway. A second later two shots took away another one of the two most precious things in James Buchanan Barnes' life.
A hole was torn in Steve's white shirt by the time the anger came. They were collapsed on the kitchen floor, arms slung around each other, when the thought of George Barnes crashed and wrecked Bucky's revengeful mind.
George Barnes was the reason for the murders that took place on the street outside of his own house. All those late nights and weeks and years spent involved with people who threatened, maimed and killed. Who installed fear into innocent citizens and gathered money from unlawful business all across the world. Bucky knew it would catch up to them. And so did his father.
The man had not been home for more than a few meals and change of clothes in weeks. He'd been playing double-agent and fucked it up real bad, and was simply waiting for either Stark or the Odinsons to realize his betrayal. He knew that his family was in danger and didn't even tell them. But Bucky figured it out, of course he did, and he had spent every sleepless night since in the hallway clutching a baseball bat.
The old Mercedes rolled up on the street a few hours later. Bucky was standing on the porch, eyes terribly red and puffy. The bodies were gone and all of George's belongings were thrown in a trash bag on the asphalt. None of them said a thing, and Bucky never saw his father again.
Yes, Bucky Barnes was prepared with his baseball bat. He just didn't know they would be prepared with their guns.
Chapter I
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