#the world is collapsing around me 🫠

[slutdge]

why isnt substance abuse working like it used to this fucking sucks even more than usual

[guiltyasdave]

jana hi me again 🫣 could i have the prompt 28 "No one ever cared about me like you."

with either javi p or joel 🫠❤️🤎

take my hand, wreck my plans

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 🫶🏻

dividers by @saradika-graphics as always because they’re the best <3

find my full masterlist here & follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates :)

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.

thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment because they make me really happy 🤍

[mssorceressupreme]

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 🫠

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 🥹🫶🏼 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?

——

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.

[hp-hcs]

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

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 🫠 (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 🤠👍

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.

[lostsyren]

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 on🫠 (which I’m grateful for, ty to all of you for reading🫶😞)

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😞)

[witchersoldier]

Stars He Hung // part three

azriel x fem!reader

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 🫠

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.

[sweet-lost-husbands]

Seek Forgiveness

Prompt from @marchtothefuckingsea: you all like the trope of character being so delirious from their injuries that they don't realize someone on their team trying to help them, so they fight back, but I offer you: Character, delirious, weakly fighting someone trying to help them, but they finally recognize who it is and they fight even harder.

Hurt/Comfort

I absolutely loved writing this! Hopefully you enjoy reading this, please feel free to give any advice as well.

Word count: 3k on the dot 🫠🫠

Summary: Reader gets hurt on a hunt and she is forced to rely on someone who has hurt her in the past, to save her life.

Warnings: Serious injury, blood, broken bones, extreme gore, restraints, potions, accidental torture?? but only to save her. Reader is scared of Castiel.

No usage of y/n.

Italics are the character's thoughts

It was a simple mistake- and yet an unforgivable one. That was the irony to it. 

I limp forward, slowly catching my breath as I walk. I hold my cold hand against my abdomen, Warm blood leaking through the gaps in my fingers and the fabric of my clothes, coating my body like a blanket as gravity beckons it down. I know I needed to put more pressure, but I can’t bring myself to do it. 

I take another sharp painful step, when something crashes into my side, and I'm thrown to the unforgiving floor. I hear the snaps before I feel the hot pain that explodes in my ribs. My lungs gasp for a single breath of air but it seems to fall short.  

I have been in this situation once before; it gives me back memories I try deeply to forget.  

Then something is on me, clawing at my flesh. I recognise that smell anywhere, the blood thirst- the unholiness. A vamp. 

I fumble with the machete, begging my numb fingers to work. My heart pounds in my chest and ricochets of skull, so loud that I plead for moment of silence. 

My fingers grip around the handle and gain just enough leverage to sever its head with one flick of the wrist.  

I collapse backwards, coughing and spluttering as the world spins and blurs. An all too familiar metallic taste erodes my mouth. All my limbs ache with exhaustion. My eyelids feel heavy, and my mind begins to drift into unknown places. 

I almost reach the blissful darkness when an agonising burst of pain brings me back. I scream, thrashing against the sudden pressure on my abdomen. My muscles tense and I arch upward, whimpering as the force increases.  

Take it away take it away takeitaway 

Water brims in my eyes; I twist my hands up and latch around the unknown arm, in a weak attempt to pry it off. My vision smudges and I can't see their face. They take the moment to increase the pressure even more, so that now I'm sure they are pushing their whole weight against it. I let out a strangled cry and can’t stop from writhing beneath them. 

Stop it, pleaseee 

“Shhhh, I know it hurts.”  

I barely make out the words because they are clouded by a layer of fog. Briefly, a feeling of warmth floats over my forehead, then disappears again, followed by some faint muttering.  

“Leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone.” I pant, continuing to push at his arms, anything to get away. When all fails, I start to turn in on myself, but he manages to keep me in place.  

Please 

“Hey, easy, easy, don’t move!” 

I can’t.  

One hand continues to put too much pressure on the wound while the other starts skimming over my skin, looking for injuries before coming to rest on my shoulder. 

“Oh god, your cold. We have to get you out of here.”  

Before I can protest, he pulls me into sitting and drapes my arm over his shoulder to support my weight. I let out a weak sob at the movement, doing what little I can to resist. A moment later, I am hoisted up. 

It starts with a few steps, but my side screams at me, and I try to double over and lay back on the ground.  

“Crap.” I hear him say, as he repositions my arm to keep me standing.  

He reaches under my knees and across my back and pulls me into his chest. I weakly shove at it, squirming from the shift in my ribs. 

No no no no 

“I know, I know.” He says something more, but I don’t mange to make it out. 

The next few minutes go by slowly. Each step moves me, and I can't do anything to stop it. At some point my eyes flutter shut. Yes, darkness. But a sharp pain blossoms as he purposely jolts me awake.  

I gasp, once again trying to free myself but he only tightens his grip.  

“Stay with me. Don’t you dare close your eyes.” 

“No....” 

“Yes.” His voice is firm like an order. “Yes, and if you don’t, then I'm going to have to force you back again. And you don’t want that do you?” 

“No.” 

“Good.” 

Eventually I feel him ease his arms that secure me and delicately place me down on something soft. Hopefully a bed but I'm too tired to care. Where am I? 

Hands glide over my face and cup it. I try to wave them away, but they don’t budge. A blurry figure is pulled into my eyesight and just for a second, I am able to focus enough to recognise the face. Cas. 

Damn it, I should have realised earlier. Not him. Anyone but him. He’s going to hurt me again. 

Suddenly I pull every tendril of remaining energy from my body to fight his grasp and propel myself away. The cool floor meets my face and I scramble weakly along it. Whimpering and curling up in a ball, tears adding to the already blood-soaked floor as my limbs finally give out. I’m aware that I'm shivering but its only when I look ahead and see a mirror, do I realise how pale I actually am. 

A finger taps my shoulder, and I can sense his presence next to me. 

Please don’t hurt me 

“Go away!” My voice strains. 

“You know I can’t do that.” He brushes a stray strand of hair from my face and forces our eyes to meet. It almost catches me off guard; I see something there that I have never seen before. Pleading. 

Why? 

“Don’t you dare.” I whisper but he ignores me and tries to slide his fingers to the hem of my shirt. I bat his hands away once more. 

“Stop fighting me!” His head is tilted in pure concern. 

Why does he care, why is he different? 

I start to mumble a response, but a coughing fit quickly wracks my torso. Cas acts quickly, bringing my head up to rest on his lap until it subsides. From there, he lifts me onto the bed and lays me out flat, which I instinctively start to curl.  

“I can’t heal you but let me help.” 

“No, g’t aw’y fr’m me. Anyth’ng b’t your help.” I slur. 

“Okay.” His voice is laced with remorse and heartbreak. “Then you leave me no choice.” 

First, he grasps my arm and gently tugs it away from me, securing it with rope; the next is my other hand and then both my legs, until I am fully outstretched. I almost can’t stand it; the pain intensifies. I feebly yank on the restraints, trying to get free myself, but they are unyielding.  

I only notice that Cas had left the room when he returns, holding a med kit. He sets it down on the bed-side table and starts taking things out and positioning them in a certain way. “I’m sorry but I’ve already caused you enough pain and if you die and I had a chance to save you......” He trails off. “I won't be able to forgive myself.”  

He pauses, taking out a wad of gauze and a bottle of alcohol.  

In the haze, I almost miss the stray tear making its way down his cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“You d’d.” I rasp, narrowing my vision on what he is doing, with an expression of horror on my face. Don’t put me through more pain, just let me go, why can't he let me go? Surely, he can see that I don’t want this. Surely.  

I pull at the restraints again. 

“I know.” He purposely hides his face so I can’t see the sadness in his eyes, “And yes, while it may have been true that I was under a spell and couldn’t help it; I am sorry. I will do anything to make up to you, but first let me help.” 

Nothing manages to leave my throat as he turns back to me. Was that true? Was it not his fault? I feel the blood drain from my face. Last time he had tortured me and left me for dead, I was lucky that Dean made it to me in time. After that I became a hunter to stop things like what happened to me. But maybe Cas wasn’t a monster- not anymore. 

“Stay still.” He says and gives me a sad smile; like he hates what he is about to do. I feel his gentle fingers at the hem of my crimson-soaked shirt, and he carefully lifts it up. 

He grabs a few things. “This will hurt...... I am truly sorry.” 

There is a slap of elastic gloves being put on and then he nears. I feel as he places one hand a couple of inches above the wound, which I realise is to keep me in place.  

The moment the alcohol-soaked gauze skims over my tender skin, I screech, lashing out, fighting the rope bound around me. It burns like my whole abdomen is lit aflame. 

Can’t get free can’t get free cantgetfree 

My body trembles as Castiel begins to push it in further to clean it. I struggle against him, pushing back into the bed as much as I can, but it doesn’t help. Nothing stops him from taking his time to thoroughly sterilise it. I jerk at every movement of the gauze- back and forth, pushing in the skin, not failing to get right into the corner. Each inch forcing it way through my tender flesh. I cry from the pain, still tugging at the restraints and recoiling against Cas’s hands, completely helpless to free myself. 

“Easy, easy, almost done.” He says as he wipes the wound one last time and pulls away. 

Sweat trickles down my forehead and I visually relax, panting. 

“I’m sorry but that had to be done.” He says over his shoulder as he fiddles with something else in the med kit. “Dean and Sam will be here by tomorrow evening, but you’ll bleed out long before they get here; I'm going to have to stitch it.” 

“Nooooo pleaseeee.” I whine. 

He lays a comforting hand on my shoulder and starts rubbing soothing circles. “Trust me, I don’t want to do this either. I would give anything not to have to hurt you again.” The way his words quiver like there is a lump in his throat, sells the line. 

He waits a little longer and then lets my shoulder go and brings the needle and thread to the bed-side table. 

“C-cold.” I stutter. 

“I’ll get you a blanket once this is done.” 

Castiel places the same hand on my chest again but this time, he applies a little more pressure. “Don’t move if you can help it, it could cause me to stitch all wonky. I know this isn’t ideal, but we can’t waste any more time. Please forgive me.” 

I flinch the first time the needle pricks my pale skin, then still. I stifle my groan which soon turns into a quiet sob as he continues relentlessly. I am barely aware of him muttering hush apologies to me at every groan, cry and beg. 

The pain expands though my side with each new stitch, constantly lingering. I try to focus on the ceiling, but it doesn’t distract much, since there is no way to not feel the movement of the needle. God I hate needles. 

"Stop tensing the area I'm trying to stitch." Cas orders and clamps his hand down a little more. 

“Yeah, well if you, AAGH.” He hits the spot which is the deepest and it causes me to jump. 

“I told you to stop moving!” 

I nod and clench my hands until the knuckles are white, to stop myself from wriggling. 

“You know,” He starts his next stitch and pinches the skin together, ignoring my wince. “You are quite remarkable; a thousand others would’ve passed out long before this step.” He threads it through and ties it.  

My skin is so tight around the wound, and it feels like a white-hot sting that won’t go away.  

“Holy Shit!” I swear, as a sudden burning rushes through the wound. He puts the alcohol on the table and gives be an apologetic smile. "You could have warned for that." 

He shrugs. "Sam says it’s better without a warning."  

I whimper as he places a large bandage over the top and starts clearing everything away. 

“It’s done for the time being.” He comforts, and lightly kisses me on the forehead. “You can sleep now.” 

I feel my head finally lull to the side and I allow myself to drift off. 

~ 

When I open my eyes, my head throbs and the world spins. I see Cas and for an instant my mind takes me right back to when he was a monster, and I bolt up. 

He rushes to my side and to pushes me down with his angel strength. 

“Hey, hey, it’s just me. Slow down.” 

I relax in his arms once I realise.  

“There.” He soothes, shifting so that I am lying flat, but his voice soon turns serious. “Stunts like that could tear your stitches.” He peels the bandage back and takes a look. “But thankfully it hasn’t.” 

He pulls the blanket back over me and carefully holds a glass of water to my lips. “Slow.” He says and tilts it a little. 

I hadn’t realised how thirsty I was and start to lap it up. He pulls away and I chase after it, but he continues to hold my clamp down on my shoulder with one hand. 

“Slow.” He repeats and brings the cup back. I do what as he says until it's gone. 

I wiggle my feet enough to find that he must have taken the restraints off while I was out. 

He takes a seat next to the bed and squeezes my hand. It's so warm. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Like I've been stabbed.” 

Cas smiles. “How do you really feel?” 

I sigh. “Tired, everything hurts.” 

“I’d assume that’s normal considering what you’ve been through.” He tilts his head towards my ribs. “When you're ready, I need to take a look, okay?” 

I swallow thickly. “Okay.” I chastise myself at how the words break in my throat, I know he's only trying to help. 

A shudder escapes my lips as Cas’s warm fingers skim over my ribs. I hold back a choked cry as he presses into them, testing the bones. By the time he finishes, I am as far away from him as the bed allows. 

“A couple are broken; I'll go get you an icepack.” 

When he re-enters and positions the icepack over my sides, his face has saddened like he isn’t telling me something. 

“What is it?” I ask. 

He doesn’t hold back. “There’s been a slight delay with Sam and Dean, they won’t be here for a few more days. We are in a small cabin out in the woods, it's not safe here. The vampire's that did this to you could be back with the rest of the nest.” 

“Oh.” I manage to say. 

He wipes a finger over my face to stop the tears. “We need to leave but we can’t do that with the condition you're in now. And I can’t heal you because they used a blade warded against angels.” 

“So, what do we do?” I take his hand and intertwine our fingers. 

“You know I don’t want to put you in more pain than I have to.” I can feel him shaking now; he's scared. 

“Cas.” My tone is slightly louder than I wanted. 

There's a pause. He readjusts his trench coat like its uncomfortable. “There may be a healing spell that could help but I'm told that the procedure will be...... unpleasant, to say the least.”  

His whole face screams regret but I surprise him with my answer. “Do it.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah..... I trust you.” 

~ 

“Okay.” Cas says, more to himself than me. He places the neon purple potion on the table and undoes his belt. “Open,” he commands, “It should help with the pain.” 

I reluctantly take in the leather and bite down. 

“I have to restrain you now. If you mess with the potion even a little, it could prove faulty and there is no way in hell, I'm putting you through this twice.” 

I give a slight nod and he starts tying my limbs with rope. I get more scared by the second, I can already hear the rhythmic beat of my heart. This time he also adds some rope over my thighs and chest so I can move even less than before. 

Once he’s finished, he fetches the potion and hovers over me. 

“If you have somewhere you find soothing, go there in your mind.” 

Then he begins, first removing the bandage to expose the wound then pours it in. 

A blazing burst of pain explodes through my body, everything feels like it's on fire. Then his hands are on me, rubbing it as deep into the wound as possible while I strain and fight to get away from the hands that are hurting me. He manages to shove it through the gaps in the stitches so it can travel deeper. I scream and cry around the belt, every muscle tensed so much that it cramps. I can feel as every rib welds itself together and every cell in the wound presses until it's all combined.  

When all the pain finally simmers, relief washes over me. Cas whispers comforting words and praise as he undoes the restraints and pulls me into a hug. I am too weak to resist the movement, but I don’t want to, its sweet and warm. He saved me. 

“You did so well,” He soothes. “I am so proud of you. Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” I answer simply, “I am now, and I forgive you.” 

[esorxy]

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 😱 some more gays😱 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 🥺 "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 😱😱 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 🤦

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 🤷

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 😱. 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." 🤦

yby comes too cos this drama is tiresome and neverending, and wkx is like "im tired, kill me 🫠", 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 😱 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 😮‍💨

when do they stop serving face honestly like im fed up 🤦

[laxmiree]

[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~

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

special thanks to @/ivioivioivi and @/endless-season for providing some insight and helping me translating this one 🫶

-

[MATH]

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?

-

[MATH/BIOCHEMISTRY]

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.

-

[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.

-

[PREVIEW/COMPUTER SCIENCE]

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.

-

[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.

-

[BIOMED-LAB]

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 🫠]

[Anything might refer to cells, plants, lab animals, and... well, anything. There's no limit of ethics in BS labs.]

-

[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.

-

[LAB]

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 haha🤣]

[phoebe1013]

Here’s an interpretation of what dating the Saxon Master would be like with you, Phoebe, infused with your personality traits and canon dynamics, as well as plenty of fitting emojis to reflect his chaotic brilliance and how you two would interact:

1. His obsession with you is off the charts 🖤🔥🕰️

The Master is completely and utterly obsessed with you, Phoebe. Your dreamy, clueless nature fascinates him to no end, and your soft, sensitive demeanor pulls at something deep in his fractured psyche. He’s possessive to the point of madness, constantly reminding you, “You’re mine, Phoebe. No one else gets to have you—not in this universe or any other.” His gaze burns into you with an intensity that’s both thrilling and terrifying. 😶‍🌫️🖤

2. He’s captivated by your innocence and curiosity 🧸✨🌌

Your child-like curiosity and dreamy personality are things the Master absolutely adores (and sometimes mocks, in his own twisted way). He loves answering your endless questions about time, space, and the universe, often with exaggerated flair. “Oh, Phoebe, how delightfully clueless you are,” he teases with a smirk, but he secretly loves that you see the world differently. He’ll even indulge your whimsical interests, like playing with your plushies or cuddling under a blanket during a rainstorm. 🌧️🧸💕

3. His protective streak is terrifyingly intense 🛡️🔪🔥

Given your shy, sensitive nature and your tendency to bottle up your emotions, the Master takes it upon himself to be your self-appointed protector. If anyone dares to hurt you—physically or emotionally—they’ll meet a fate so horrifying that it makes you shudder. “No one makes my Phoebe cry,” he growls, eyes dark with fury. He might even use his hypnotic abilities to erase unpleasant memories from your mind, just to keep you safe. 🩸🌀

4. Constant teasing with underlying affection 😏🫦❤️

The Master loves to tease you about everything, from your small stature to your shy demeanor. “Oh, look at my little Phoebe, trying to stand up to me,” he’ll say with a wicked grin, ruffling your messy curls. But the teasing is always laced with genuine affection, and when you pout or sulk, he finds it utterly adorable. “Oh, don’t do that, darling—you’re much too cute when you’re mad.” 🫠💋✨

5. Grandiose, dramatic declarations of love 🌌💔👑

The Master isn’t one for subtlety, so his love for you is as dramatic and over-the-top as his plans for universal domination. Expect speeches about how you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to reality, accompanied by sweeping gestures like bringing you a star or declaring an entire planet in your honor. “Phoebe, you are my queen, my goddess, my chaos incarnate,” he’ll declare with a flourish. 🪐👑✨

6. Unpredictable adventures with a touch of danger 🚀💥🌠

With the Master, every day is an adventure—whether it’s fleeing from a collapsing star, outsmarting the Doctor, or exploring a parallel dimension. While he thrives on chaos, he’s surprisingly considerate of your comfort, wrapping you in his jacket if you’re cold or slowing down if you’re scared. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ve got you,” he’ll say with a mischievous grin, pulling you close as the world explodes around you. 🔥🌌💨

7. Low-key adores your Littlespace moments 🧸🍼💖

The Master is surprisingly gentle when he notices you slipping into littlespace. He finds your child-like moments oddly endearing, even if he’d never admit it outright. He’ll quietly hand you your teddy bear or let you cuddle up with him while he strokes your hair. “You’re lucky I adore you, my little Phoebe,” he’ll mutter, though the soft smile on his face betrays his true feelings. 🧸🌙✨

8. He’s weirdly fascinated by your quirks 🧐💋🌀

Your habit of sucking on your fingers to calm down? Intriguing. Your love of cozy, comfy clothes? Adorable. Your fear of bugs? Hilarious (but he won’t let you suffer, of course). The Master finds your quirks endlessly fascinating and will often watch you with a mix of amusement and fondness. “Phoebe, you’re the strangest, most delightful creature I’ve ever met,” he’ll say, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 🥰✨

9. You ground him in a way no one else can 🩷🫀🌌

Despite his madness, the Master finds solace in your presence. Your calm, soft voice soothes the chaos in his mind, and your dreamy, child-like nature reminds him of a time before the drumming consumed him. “You’re my calm in the storm, Phoebe,” he whispers late at night, holding you close as he buries his face in your messy curls. 🛏️🌌💤

10. Chaos meets softness: the perfect balance 🌀🌸❤️‍🔥

You and the Master are a perfect contrast—his chaotic energy balanced by your soft, shy demeanor. He loves dragging you into his wild schemes, but he also adores quiet moments where it’s just the two of you. Whether it’s cuddling under a blanket with your plushies or plotting universal domination together, he wouldn’t trade your partnership for anything in the universe. 🖤✨💕

11. Utterly devoted, in his own twisted way 💍🖤🔥

The Master’s love for you is all-consuming. While his possessiveness and manipulative tendencies can be overwhelming, his devotion to you is undeniable. “You’re mine, Phoebe,” he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. “And I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take you from me.” His love may be dark and intense, but it’s also uniquely yours. 🫦🔥❤️‍🩹

Dating the Saxon Master as Phoebe would be a whirlwind of passion, danger, and devotion, filled with his dramatic flair and your calming presence. Together, you’d create a beautifully chaotic love story that defies time and space. 🌌✨

Apparently ChatGPT thinks I’m short because I’m 4’11

12. He finds your softness irresistible 🌸🖤

The Master is completely taken by your soft, shy personality. While he’s known for chaos and destruction, he’s surprisingly gentle with you. He loves the way you curl up with your knees to your chest or the way you absentmindedly fidget with your fingers. He’ll often watch you with an almost tender expression, whispering, “You’re too good for a monster like me, Phoebe.” But deep down, he’s convinced he doesn’t deserve you—and that’s why he clings to you so fiercely. 🫠🩷

13. He indulges your quirks, no matter how small 🧸💤🍭

Whether it’s your love for stuffed animals, your fascination with supernatural things, or your tendency to zone out, the Master indulges every little thing about you. If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll lay beside you, listening to your soft, sleepy voice as you drift off while holding your blanky and teddy bear. If you’re feeling down, he’ll bring you sweets or share twisted tales about his adventures to cheer you up. “See, Phoebe? The universe can be just as strange and beautiful as you are.” 🌙🍫✨

14. He’s mesmerized by your appearance 🪞🖤💄

Your petite, soft appearance fascinates him, and he’s endlessly enchanted by the details of your features. He’ll run his fingers through your fluffy, messy curls or trace the stretch marks on your skin, marveling at how delicate you seem. “You’re exquisite, my Phoebe,” he says, his voice low and filled with adoration. He finds your natural beauty captivating and often stares at you like you’re the only thing in the universe that matters. 🫦🌌

15. He loves your intelligence, even if you don’t realize it 🧠✨

The Master admires your sharp mind and curious nature, even when you don’t see it yourself. He’s endlessly amused by how clueless you can be at times, but he also knows how clever you truly are. He enjoys watching you piece things together or ask questions about the universe, often responding with exaggerated enthusiasm. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Phoebe. But don’t worry—I’ll always be the genius in this relationship.” 😏🌀

16. He’s in awe of your voice and demeanor 🎙️🖤

Your calm, soft voice has an almost hypnotic effect on him, especially when you’re shy or dreamy. He’ll ask you to repeat things just so he can hear your tone, and he often imitates your voice in a playful (but secretly admiring) way. “Oh, Phoebe,” he mocks with a smirk, before pulling you close and murmuring, “But you sound so sweet when you say it.” 🖤✨

17. He exploits your fears but protects you fiercely 🐛🛡️🔥

The Master can’t help but tease you about your extreme fear of bugs, often conjuring harmless holograms just to watch you squeal. But if there’s ever an actual threat, he’ll destroy it without hesitation. “No one gets to torment my Phoebe—except for me, of course,” he says with a sly grin, making sure you’re safe before scooping you up into his arms. 🐜❌🖤

18. He’s addicted to your kindness 🫂❤️‍🔥

Your caring nature is something the Master can’t quite understand but is deeply drawn to. While he’s used to manipulation and cruelty, your small acts of kindness—like thanking him for something or soothing him when he’s upset—completely disarm him. He’ll scoff and act unaffected, but inside, it’s melting his cold, calculating heart. “You’re far too good for me, Phoebe. And yet, here you are.” 🖤🥀

19. He’s fascinated by your quirks in love 💞🫦

The Master is endlessly intrigued by your affectionate quirks, like how easily flustered you get or how you tend to bottle up your feelings. He loves watching you navigate your emotions, often leaning in close just to see how you’ll react. “Oh, come on, my shy little Phoebe. Don’t hide from me—I can see right through you,” he teases, his voice dripping with charm. 🫣🖤

20. He’s chaotic, but he adapts for you ⚡🌸

While the Master thrives on chaos and destruction, he finds himself softening in your presence. He’ll tone down his manic energy if he senses you’re overwhelmed, wrapping you in his coat or holding your hand to reassure you. “I suppose I can be… less dramatic. Just for you, Phoebe.” Of course, he’ll still find ways to bring excitement into your life—but only as much as you can handle. 🧥✨

21. You’re his entire world 🌎🖤

For all his madness and manipulation, the Master is completely devoted to you. He’ll never admit it outright, but you’re his one constant in a universe of chaos. Whether he’s destroying worlds or pulling you into an interdimensional portal, you’re the one thing he refuses to lose. “You’re mine, Phoebe. Forever,” he whispers, his voice heavy with both love and obsession. 🫦🔥

Dating the Saxon Master as Phoebe would be a mix of chaos, tenderness, and intense devotion. His dark, dramatic nature perfectly contrasts with your soft, sensitive personality, creating a beautifully unique bond that defies all logic and time. 🌌✨🖤

[tainsan]

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

-🦝

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 🥸” BUT THATS JUST MY OPINION

there may be a kiss scene coming up you never know 🤭 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 🤭

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 🫠

[rat-that-writes]

Engineer Mark Having a Huge Crush on the Captain | Hcs

a/n: me and @softladyhours are going feral for engineer mark in the dms rn so here have some weird ass ramblings idrk what this is but take it. also i hc that the ship has beds for some of the crew like mark and the captain and others thats why theres a bed in here

tw: swearing

so this boy. he is so so silly right

he likes you so much but he doesn’t wanna tell you because 1. you’re his captain, and 2. if you reject him he would be so sad

he gets butterflies whenever you tell him he did a good job around the ship

almost every single crew mate has endured his bragging about you telling him he’s your favourite engineer

celci Hates It

gunther and burt think it’s funny how obvious he’s being about his crush on you but how he’ll deny it when asked

“what do you mean???? of COURSE i dont have a crush on the captain. that would be unprofessional” proceeds to stare at you all day, grin like a maniac when you say good morning to him, follow you around like a lost puppy, etc

eventually he accepts his more-than-platonic fondness for you

but that just makes him more nervous around you

he doesn’t want to accidentally let it slip that he’s been pining for you for weeks but his heart begs him to scream it to the world, while his brain tells him to shut the fuck up

one valentine’s day you got him a card and he had to try SO hard to not combust right then and there

ever since that day he held on to a little bit of hope that you liked him back

and that little flame of hope slowly grew over time as he caught you staring at him sometimes, or your eyes lingering on his lips for a little too long during conversation

so he starts to think of ways to ask you out

but every time he tries to, there’s an emergency on the ship or he gets too scared and chickens out

“captain would you… uhh…. maybe wanna… um… uhh… ahh um i think… i gotta go”

which leaves you quite confused

so you go to his quarters one day to ask him why he keeps getting so nervous around you and asking weird questions like that

and he is just. 🫠

because oh god now i HAVE to tell them

you jokingly ask “you don’t have a crush on me, do ya?”

but he just freezes

and you’re like oh. he does

so you smile at him, and stand right in front of him and put your arms around his neck

and he almost fucking collapses

you giggle a little, he laughs nervously

and you give him a kiss on the cheek, and leave his room to get back to work

he is stunned and unable to move for 10 minutes after this, just staring at the open door you just walked out of and touching his cheek where you kissed it

then a huge smile graces his adorable face and he picks up a pillow from his bed and SQUEALS into it while jumping up and down

them celci walks in and is just “mark what the fuck” but he doesn’t care because CAPTAIN KISSED HIM ON THE CHEEK !!!!! AHHHHH

[ltbarnes]

Resurrection prologue

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 🫠 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

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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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