Weakling Synonym Novels & Stories

"For losing control. For scaring everyone. For being weak." He pulled back and looked at my face and his winter thunder eyes were steady. "You are not weak," he said. "I feel weak." "Feeling weak is not the same as being weak." "Same thing." "No." He took my face in his hands and his thumbs traced my cheekbones. "Feeling weak is human. Being weak is giving up. And you have not given up." I stared at him and my eyes were wet. "What if I cannot stop it?" "Then I will help you."

he went on, each word measured, deliberate, “to weaken me. To weaken this pack. This kingdom.” Something inside me cracked. Not loudly. Not violently. But quietly enough that only I could hear it. The pain in my wrist throbbed, sharp and insistent. But the ache in my chest— That was worse. So much worse. Because even now… Even after everything… It came back to that. Wolfless. Weak. A liability. A pawn. I lowered my gaze, my breath growing shallow. That familiar feeling crept in. Small. Insignificant. Like I had no right to stand here. No right to argue. No right to feel.

But this time, I was damning the consequences. “And don’t come with the strength and weakling card, you don’t have to tell me. I know I am an omega wolf, a weakling, and every other degrading thing that you address me with, but what makes you any different? You literally can do nothing, and if you don’t get to walk about with your minions every time, I can promise that even I would trash your ass in a fight.”

I am feeling that my head has become very heavy and it's not letting me stand up or sit properly. I could see nothing properly but Kevin. Kevin asked, "Cristill, are you ok? Cristill?" I said, "I cannot keep my eyes open for a few seconds also. I slowly closed my eyes and I am not feeling well, Kevin. Please call someone for help, Kevin. Kevin asked, "Why will I call anyone else if I am there with you, Cristill? Tonight will be a very memorable night but you cannot enjoy it." I can feel someone is trying to touch me badly but who? I can't stop him as I cannot even open my eyes and me...

Yet here he was, defeated, nursing a drink he could barely taste, feeling smaller with each shot he threw back. “Why am I so weak?” he muttered under his breath, almost as if someone might answer. His voice was a low rasp, strained with the weight of the question. "Why am I... so weak?" His gaze fell to the glass, his words spilling out in a whisper, repeating himself like it would make the answer clear. “What the hell is wrong with you, Bentley? Why are you so..."

I can't," she whispered, barely audible. I whipped my head toward her, my anger suddenly aflame. "What do you mean you can't? Go now!" "I feel weak," she whispered. Weak? Grace, weak? The woman was one of the strongest people I knew, seldom sick and always walking around with grace and resilience in her steps. Her excuse did not make any sense, and for a while, doubt crept in.

"You will never be worth it. That's why we remind you constantly of your pathetic-" "-can you even hear yourself? Who are you to deem my worthiness? No. Rather, shame on you to judge me because of my weakness and pick on me. Because this is all you will ever be. Shameless, stupid, picking on the weak ones in the pack. What a great thing it is for people to lean on idiots like you someday, hoping for half the fair judgment your parents possess."

Nikitas pov The dim warmth of my room was barely comforting against the chill that wrapped around my bones like a shroud. Weakness coursed through me, and every step felt like a battle of its own. My limbs trembled as though they fought a hidden adversary, an unseen force gnawing at the edges of my composure.

They felt like dead weight, useless, broken. My legs were worse... numb, heavy, as if they didn’t even belong to me. "What’s… happening… to me…?" I muttered, my voice a rasp, my lips cracked and dry. My tongue felt swollen, my throat raw, like I’d screamed for hours. "Why… am I… this… weak…?"

She says softly, holding out her hand to me like she always does. "I don't want to," I say, staring at the ceiling. "I feel so weak." "I know honey, just a short one." It’s not one of the days I lie about how strong I am. Some days I pretend I’m stronger than I am because everyone needs me to be. Today, my bones feel hollow. I feel extra weak. Today, my body feels like it’s made of glass. And I feel like I should be in bed and not walk around the estate. I wish I could though.