Ow
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I'm a 10 but like, out of 100.
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A Trope That Makes Me Say Nope
If there's one storyline/trope that I dislike the most, it's cheating. It kind of ruins the story for me, especially when the cheater is easily forgiven. Heck, the fact that they are forgiven at all is crazy to me.
The only time I don't completely dislike it is when the person being cheated on is the absolute worst or there's a revenge plot. Other than that it just makes me feel bad lol. I do get why people like those kinds of stories though.
Will I still read the story?....probably.
Are there any tropes you don't particularly like?
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Bradley crying out for Maverick during the scene when they're both certain they're gonna die-
The panic in his voice, the fear that settles there. Knowing that Maverick is trying everything he can and its not enough and oh, god, he's gonna die like his father but Maverick is here. Mav, who took him to his baseball games and practiced in the back yard with him; who got him his first suit for homecoming and even when tbi ga went to shit, even when he didn't invite him to graduation after his mother died, he still showed up and cheered so damn loud.
Mav, who has only ever wanted to protect him.
He's scared, and Maverick is scared- and the only times Mav has been scared was at his mother's initial diagnosis, when Ice broke the news about HIS diagnosis, and now here.
And if Mav is scared, then he sure as hell is scared, too.
He doesn't want to die.
Not yet.
Not here.
He hasn't apologized for cutting Maverick out of his life yet, hasn't told him everything that he made him miss, hasn't gotten to make amends.
Not yet.
Please, God, not yet.
Gif credit: pohjanneito
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angst/hc prompts #17. "You don't have to be alone anymore." 🥰😊
You got it, my love 🥰💕
Hurt/Comfort Prompt List
Scheherazade (Vash/Reader, 810 words)
“Well!” he says, faux cheerfully. “It’s been fun, but this is where we part!”
You knew this was coming: you’re only surprised it didn’t happen sooner. You’ve seen the way he pushes away everything that comes too close in the hopes of protecting them from the danger of his life—isolates himself in the name of helping others—and it’s been a while since you met, since you decided to stick by his side (for your own aims at first… but you can no longer pretend this partnership is entirely self-serving, at least in that way). He allowed your company for a shockingly long time, but it was only a matter of time until you got hurt, however innocuously—just a gash on your arm. And now he’s trying to leave. For your own good.
You swallow, willing your lower lip not to wobble. “I don’t want to part ways.”
He’s still trying for a smile, but it’s falling flat with the way his blue eyes are beginning to waver with tears. “It’s better this way.”
You shake your head, your own eyes brimming over to match his. He doesn’t mean it—well. He means it, but in the way that he believes that he’s too dangerous to associate with. That you’ll die if you stay by his side, and he can’t allow himself the happiness of company because it only leads to ruin. How do you fight back against such ingrained beliefs?
“It’s not better,” you say. “I… don’t want to go back to the way my life was before I met you. Do you really want to go back to the way it was before you met me?”
You’re friends—you feel more for him than you’ve ever felt, and the way he looks at you sometimes… you know there’s something there. You know it.
He gestures at your bandaged arm, and his voice is ragged as he says, “how can you want this? There’s no future for you with—if you keep traveling with me.”
He was about to say there’s no future for you with him.
“So you’re gonna make that decision for me?” you ask. “You’re gonna decide that you’re not worth the risk?”
You’re flying too close to the sun, heart on your sleeve as tears trace down your cheeks.
He looks away. “Don’t say that.”
“Don’t say what? That I don’t mind the risk of—of traveling with you? Vash, every single one of us is risking our lives every day just by living. I’d rather live with… with someone I care about.”
His eyes shut tight in a pained grimace. “I’m not worth your life. I’m… you’ve seen what follows me!”
“You think I can leave you when I know you’re in danger? You think I don’t care as much about your safety as you care about mine?”
“It’s not the same—“ he insists, and you’re trying to tamp down the agitation that’s bubbling up in your chest; not necessarily at him, but at the circumstances that have driven him to become like this, driven him to such a lonely existence. You’re not going to let him keep doing it.
You take a breath.
“You don’t have to be alone anymore.”
It’s dangerously close to a confession, an admission of the feelings you’ve tried so hard to keep inside, but you’ll admit to anything right now—anything to make him stay.
You can hear his shuddering breath, can see the tears begin to fall. He doesn’t want to be alone.
“And I don’t want to be alone, either.”
Your heart tightens painfully in your chest as a soft sob is wrenched from his chest.
“Please,” he says, voice breaking. “I can’t be the reason that—that—“
You’re closing the distance between you as his shoulders shake, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his coat.
A thought comes unbidden: a story you were once told; a story from long before the Fall, from ancient times on Earth. A story of a woman who, to save her life from her husband, the king, told him a story each night, gave him a reason to keep her alive the next day. Just one more day, and one more day after that. Days turn to weeks turn to months and years.
“Just don’t leave tonight,” you beg him. “You can go tomorrow if you still want to. Just stay tonight.”
And Vash returns your embrace with a sob, arms coming to rest at your back, not daring to hold too tight as his resolve crumbles.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”
You’ll find a way to convince him that this is worth it; that he doesn’t have to be alone ever again. You’ll find a way to combat that deep set martyrdom and guilt that informs his every decision. Even if you have to keep buying time like this for weeks, months, years.
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Realized the Worst Thing about Claudia and Louis in s2 and had to physically sit down in the shower today
They’ve got the telepathy this time
He’s going to be able to hear her die
SHE IS GOING TO BE RIGHT THERE IN HIS HEAD WHEN SHE DIES
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the Kents mourning the loss of their son :(
Superman: The Man of Steel #21
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replaced mc!au drabble
based on the fic @azlrse wrote cause ive been having it burn slowly in my brain
pronouns used: they/them - mc is gender neutral (this is my first time ever writing for gn!mc sorry if it’s not too good!)
tw: reader has an anxiety attack, crying, mentions of physical pain
theres also a part where one of the brothers talks; you can imagine the one you were involved with as as the one that is speaking during that scene
“We’re looking to have another exchange program.” Lucifer said. “We’re conjoining all three realms once more to have another successful year."
Successful, huh? Tell that to President of the Student Council who now stands as the gateway for human exchange students. The wound was still healing from the hurt the brothers induced on them.
"Have you asked Solomon for another human sorcerer?" MC had asked calmly, keeping their composure for when they had asked the question to Lucifer, and to the rest of the brothers.
The eldest brother nodded. "We've already found one human student, all we require is a second one."
The human president had closed their eyes and thought slowly. Placing their hand under their chin, they pondered long and hard about the decisions and outcomes.
Should they say no, and not only risk an imbalance of the realms, but also limit the possibilities of a student having an once-in-a-lifetime experience to stay in a different realm?
Or...
Should they say yes, and risk one of their own students going through the exact same thing they went through all those years ago?
The seven brothers practically bore holes into MC's figure that was situated behind the large mahogany desk.
The guilt had never left them ever since the day that they left the House of Lamentation. Each and every single one of them knew, that deep down, they were guilty for all that happened. Pushing them away, neglecting them, not allowing them to be with any of the brothers, and worse of all; abandoning the one person that dared to pick up the broken pieces of their family and put it back together with bleeding hands.
They had done so much for them; and yet they still put them through something far more worse and painful than hell itself.
"I will need time to think this decision through. Both with my student council, and myself." MC's voice broke through the uncomfortable silence.
The brothers had exchanged looks and nodded. The room turned cold and quiet once more, nobody daring to say a single thing as MC started to write down the details they had just heard from Lucifer about the program.
"We're so sorry, MC."
Their eyebrow twitched in annoyance and anger.
"There is nothing to be sorry about-"
"But we-"
They looked up at the brother who was speaking, glaring them dead in their eyes as they slowed their speech.
"This was simply a proposal, was it not? I ask that you keep it that way." MC demanded in a low tone.
The brother that had spoken closed their mouth, and shied away from the crowd. Of course they would still be upset. Asking for a demand this huge from the one they'd hurt was practically like asking for death on a silver platter.
“Are you planning to have three human students again? Or are you going to do the two students like you should’ve done before?”
They all deserved that jab.
“The King and I have stated only two exchange students will stay for one year.” Lucifer said, crossing his arms over his chest. “The exchange program only hosts two students from each realm for the entire year.”
The President started unimpressed. “I do hope so.”
More silence filled the room as MC started to write more words in their agenda.
After a while, they finally finalized their request and placed it in their folder.
“I will get back to you as soon as I can once the council, the Dean, and I have all come to a conclusion.” MC spoke, the stern and cold look still etched into their facial features.
Lucifer stood up after they did, the rest of the brothers standing as well to say their farewells to MC for the first time in so long.
“You can take your leave.” MC said, opening the drawers of their desk and finding a place in the drawer for the papers that were exchanged.
As the brothers said their ‘thank you’s in silence, the door finally closed with a click, and they finally let their tears fall from their eyes.
After all those years, the President thought they could be strong.
But their pact marks still burned into their skin.
The memories that were carved into their brain never left.
The nightmares from that night, the evenings before, never left.
The days spent crying, they never stopped.
The days spent in spite of hating the person they were in the past, it never faltered.
They had become the epitome of what their past self failed to be, and yet, they merely crumbled at seeing the brothers once more.
They were hopeful, for a sliver. But they had built their defenses for years.
Sorting through the folders, MC's fingers brushed upon an old framed photograph that was shoved to the back of the space. It was of all the brothers, the king and his butler, the angels, Solomon, and themself in the middle. Smiling. Grinning. It was their birthday in the Devildom.
That was when everything was still perfect. When everything was still fine.
Gripping the frame in their hands, they let out a choked cry and hurled it across their office; the glass shattering on impact when it had collided with the bookshelf.
They fell to the ground, holding their head in their hands and curling into a ball as hiccups and fat tears escaped their burning eyes.
“I was a fool to expect anything from them anymore.”
And yet, while they were all alone in their office, the seven brothers stood outside.
Guilty and ashamed.
What had they done?
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What if the death to the mechanisms song was followed up by lost in the cosmos where everyone is singing but each mech drops out of the song in the order in which they died. :).
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@cagedpotential sent: 🎁 / slexie! and got exile by t.aylor s.wift ft. b.on i.ver
"you never gave a warning sign."
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also also logged into eso for the first time in months and I forgot scylla is halfway in love with a lizard
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What Flavor is Your Soul?
Salt
Ah. little kraken, bold are you. Restless sailor, dauntless fighter, lower your sword, let me see your shield. Ah, of course, they are but the same object. Oh wave-tossed ruffian, lend me some of your mettle would you? You have been struck by the sharpest of spears yet you still stand here proudly. But off your guard, elsewhere of the battlefield, you will find your spirit can parch others. Your words are but weapons crafted from your soul. Little lion, sheathe your claws, or the ones you love the most will suffer. You do not have to be strong all the time. love, there's nothing wrong with being soft. Vulnerability is not weakness, and if it were, what's wrong with that? Strength is not always your greatest tool, your heart is good. Put down excalibur, and use your words. You'll find they will carry you much farther. Not everything in life is a battle.
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WHAT HERB ARE YOU?
ANSWER : BASIL.
you wear a thousand masks and you claim them all. you say they are all you, all parts of you but some of them you picked up when you needed to be brave, some you picked up when you failed because you were yourself, some of them you picked up because you needed to be stronger for someone smaller, better for someone bigger, useful for someone crueler, and you can't help but desperately scramble for first place, for usefulness, to prove you're worth keeping around, to prove you're the best, to prove you're good enough, valuable, enough. you just want someone to tell you you're enough. you strive for success, to be a role model, to take the lead, to be someone everyone loves, someone who can't fall, someone who can't be hurt the way you were once, the way you're running from even now. sometimes you just want someone to hold your hand and let you spill all your broken fragments outward but you know you could never let it go. the only thing holding you together some days is the image of perfection and success and security and the worst part is that everyone else needs you to never falter either because you so often are the one holding everyone together too. you can't help but wonder if your emotions are ever your own, if you are just an actor in a life that's not your own, if you were cursed to be a mannequin, a doll, from the moment you were born and placed into a life where you were a child meant to be seen, not heard, to perform, not live, and the jealousy the injustice or the pain is fueled into masks as you take the world by storm.
tagged by : @mistrdctr.
tagging : you!
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it wasn't enough that I already get way too attached to fictional characters and cry over them, they really had to go and make the most emotionally and phisically tortured character on the show look exactly like one of the people I've cared the most about in my entire life didn't they
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