#life’s not always going to be perfect there’s going to be hardships but there’s moments that feel extremely worth it
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softwiingz · 1 year ago
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i feel so SAUR!! emotional and not in a bad way. i’m just really filled with love rn 🥹
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rxmye · 6 months ago
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" 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 "
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — pristine and perfect, filled with grace and elegance, yet tainted with greed . . greed for you . .
gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / slight religious themes?, I suppose it's a fictional religion, I'm still world-building / pathetic and submissive yandere / suggestive content? / he paints the reader as a source of comfort / stalking, which is conveniently described as 'adorable' and 'innocent' behavior /
masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: ok so the person mentioned is supposed to be the God of this world, their introduction will also be out soon enough . . currently dropping hints here because world-building fun!!
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Takamoto was an Arch-angel, one of the highest ranked angels in heaven—he was pure and truly the definition of elegance, he was never greedy, and he was almost always seen smiling or happy. For he, was truly contempt with his life, and position.
Takamoto was always someone who had truly been satisfied with all that he was given, he never craved more—he always thought and frankly believed, that he had received all that he deserved and that he should be contempt with what he has. He never really had any passion or desire for anything more—he was grateful with everything—he believed all his hardships had reasoning behind it, and that it will all eventually be solved. In fact a part of him believed he deserved any hardship he came by.
Many would believe he was naive for that sort of mindset, and many angels did truly believe him to be just that, yet against all odds he rose up the ranks fairly quickly for this sort of mindset, and of course his loyalty to his beliefs. Takamoto was sweet, he'd help everyone out, and would introduce new souls, and angels throughout the lands of heaven on his free time, he'd help guide souls and his fellow angels everywhere he could . . yet things slowly changed when he first met you . .
Takamoto was visiting, what could only be described as the countryside of heaven, with vast green fields, cozy homes, acres of farmland, etc . . He was checking in for this years harvest, as per high courts orders . . when he saw you, you were so graceful, your wings sparkled in the light, you were radiant, you're eyes glimmered as both of your eyes met for a brief moment . . he felt his heart skip a beat. . his face was heating up slightly, his face dusted with shades of bright pink.
His mouth hung slightly open, as his gaze lingered on you figure, taking in the sight—your wings were lovely, much smaller than his . . were you a new soul? Perhaps you were a lower ranked angel and hence why you both never quite met . . He wanted to know more about you—he need to know more about you—where were you going? . . . and before he knew it, he found himself following you, trailing behind you silently.
He found himself frequenting areas he last saw you, it was all so innocent at first, many of his fellow coworkers described him as a young schoolboy in love, teasing him for his oh so adorable behavior . .
Takamoto didn't notice how much you were invading his life, he hadn't even been able to hold a proper sentence with you yet . . . but even then his thoughts consumed of you, whenever he did paperwork, he'd doodle your face, his room was filled with various portraits of you . .
He found himself overtime growing desperate, impure thoughts flooding his mind, greed sinking its claws into his sensitive and naive hurt—he was the utter picture of perfection, just look at him, he was everything an angel . . a human, anyone should be!?!? Why aren't you looking his way!— . . he took deep breaths, his own fingers digging into his skin, as he tried calming himself.
Gold drips from his arm, the bruise left from his fingers still fresh—golden blood stained his pretty pale fingers—pupils dilating as he took deep breaths, a ruined portrait of your face on the aisle, paint splatters surrounded him, tainting his legs, as a mirror lay broken on the floor.
"Fuck", he cussed softly, tears threatening to spill, his usually well-kept hair was a mess . . "why can't I draw them . . ?", he asked, his voice hoarse, as he tried his best to contain the anger he felt at that moment, "why can't I fucking draw them??", his nails dig into the floor, as the door creaked open.
You need to love him, you need to see him. He had never craved someone's validation, he deserved this, he deserved you! He could offer you everything, he was perfect! Everyone he knows, envied that about him . . surely you'd notice, you have too . .
He turned to face the person at the door, tears now dripping down his cheek, he mumbled something under his breath, before he started begging, "Please, please, help me . . my lord"
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@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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orphiclovers · 2 months ago
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The first scenario of ORV has always fascinated me. "Kill another person to survive." It might be the most common plot point in apocalyptic stories.. Pretty much all of them feature some discussion of morality and how to define it, good and evil, played out by deeply morally grey characters who have to make a choice to kill.
But ORV is a story about stories.
The Star Stream is trying to tell 'the story of an apocalypse' and it does! But in the most crude and unpolished way.
It's almost cynical. 'We are telling an apocalypse story, what's a common plot beat in apocalypse stories? 'No one is innocent and everyone has killed to survive'. Okay, let's make it a literal requirement for everyone to have killed someone to proceed.'
It's robotic, taking a story beat and stripping it down to it's bare essentials, then forcing the incarnations to adapt to it or die.
But the thing is. That's what all writing is. ORV just pulls back the curtain, exposing the internal circutry that makes a story work. Orv doesn't lie to you about the inherent artifice of it all.
The scenarios are perfect little plot arcs, designed to test the limits and reveal the strenghs and weaknesses of incarnations - 'the characters' of the story. It's not some cruel torture, it's literally just the act of storytelling. Writing 101 is put characters through hardship to reveal certain qualities in them or to make them go through character development.
Only difference is that writers usually camouflage the 'scenarios' they give their characters until the circumstances seem 'realistic' and like they happened on their own, like the author isn't forcing their reality to bend this way at all.
Oh, one character didn't lock the door in time due and got bitten by a zombie. And so inevitably this other character has to make the choice to kill them or not. There's as many explanaitions as the author can cook up as to what lead the characters to this moment. How the zombies got there, why these two were in the same vicinity, etc etc.
But, it's all set dressing the author has added to make the audience forget that this is too a 'scenario' given to the characters to test them. There's a time limit and a description and a reward and a penalty for failure, but all of these are cleverly hidden. The time limit can be until the last helicopter leaves in 10 minutes. The unspoken penalty is death. The author arranged how the characters find out some or all of this information in convienient ways.
Star Stream just lays it all out in front you you, straight up. States 'Kill another incarnation or have them kill you' and doesn't attempt to justify the circumstances, because of course, the real reason all this is happening is because the story demands it.
It's a universe that does not hide the author's hand in every tiny little event that happens.
So this too is the question "What if the characters knew they were in a story?" asked yet again. Every single being in the ORV universe knows they are in a story. The system itself makes it obvious - you can look at your own character sheet, you obtain 'stories' when you do something impressive but are constrained by 'probability' and what the audience finds interesting. You're body is literally made up of words written about you're life!
That's why the worldbuilding is so cohesive and so so good. All of it is telling you 'the world is a novel.'
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tvgirlie24 · 2 months ago
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Not Enough pt.1
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You are a daughter of a professional footballer and you end following in your father's footsteps. Your new captain, Alexia, doesn't think that you deserve to be a part of Barça.
angst
Pursuing football as a career as a daughter of a very famous professional footballer was both the hardest and the easiest thing you have ever done. It opened up an insane amount of doors for you and made it easy for people to notice you. Top clubs knew who you were because they knew your father, but in exchange for that you did have to work twice as hard to prove that you were worth being where you were. And even then most people doubted you. Most of the time it felt like all the energy you saved up when you were young because people knew who you were, was now being wasted on having to prove to everyone that everything that you have ever achieved was well deserved and not just given to you because of your connections and your last name.
But you were used to it at this point. To all the hate, all the comments and all the people that were quick to criticize you the second you made even the smallest mistake and completely disregard any good performance you had because according to everyone you did not deserve any praise as everything was always handed to you on a silver plate. You heard all sorts of stuff about yourself, rarely anything good was ever said about you, but you just ignored it, you handle all the hate that was directed at you with your head held high. You were well aware of the fact that the road to becoming a successful footballer was much easier for you than for anyone else but nothing is ever black and white. 
You were always a hardworking person and knew that no one's opinion mattered except your own, your coaches and your captains. And while everyone was always kind of sceptical when it came to you whenever you transferred to a new club, in the end, the team and coaching staff always warmed up to you and noticed how hard you worked. You held yourself to an impossibly high standard, and always strived for perfection. This was easy to notice and made your transitions to new clubs easier every time. 
That's how it always worked. You knew the hardships that your last name brought into your life and you learned how to deal with it. You just had to do your best and show everyone that you were worth being where you were. And in the end it always worked. Even if you were slowly destroying yourself, even if you overworked yourself so much that you made yourself sick. You didn't care. All you wanted to do was play football. You couldn't change your public image but you always managed to show everyone that mattered that your last name didn't define you as a person or your career.
All of that changed the moment Barcelona decided to sign you. While the coaching staff and the team was a little warier of you and a bit harsher than you were used to, it all settled down after a couple of weeks, quickly becoming a well liked person within the squad. 
That wasn't the case with your captain though. Alexia Putellas. The football superstar herself. She watched you like a hawk, constantly breathing down your neck, and making it known that no matter what you did she never considered it enough. It made sense really, she was also an incredibly hardworking person, she expected perfection from herself as well as her teammates. So even if every single training with her left you so exhausted that you thought your legs were going to give out from underneath you, you pushed through. Alexia was someone you always deeply admired and you wanted to prove yourself to her. You wanted her to like you but that didn't seem to be the case. She terrified you, with her stern look, with her constant shouts to do better. No one criticized you more than Alexia. To be fair, she was like that with everyone, but no one could miss that her scolding became harsher whenever it was directed at you. 
For a while you thought that you were just overthinking the whole situation. That maybe Alexia was just trying to give you a push to make you better. That her cold looks in the locker room and murmured unhappy greetings in the morning were just because she was a very closed off and private person. But then you saw her with your teammates. Sure, out on the pitch she was fierce and focused, even scary at times, but she was quick to comfort the younger players whenever something happened or hug the teammates she's played with for years. And the idea that maybe you were just overthinking the whole thing was starting to seem less and less probable. 
And then you were completely proven wrong when you were leaving the training grounds one day after another gruesome training. You would be the first to admit that your performance today was less than good, not even satisfactory really. Your passes weren't connecting at all and you missed every single shot you decided to take. No matter what you did, today just wasn't your day. You were frustrated with yourself, beating yourself up over it greatly, but everyone was quick to reassure you that it's impossible to be perfect every single day, that it is normal to make mistakes, to have an off day. Everyone except Alexia of course. 
It would be an understatement to say that she wasn't happy with you today. Not that she ever was really, but you could tell that today she was really holding herself back from screaming into your face about how incompetent you were. What she failed to realize was the fact that her constant criticizing  was making you insecure, always doubting if your next move would be a good choice. The other girls tried to get her to ease up a bit, noticing that you were starting to lose your composure. While you appreciated their efforts to help you, you knew there was no way around it. You just had to suffer through and hope that tomorrow would be a better day. 
You were in your own thoughts when you were leaving, not really noticing people around you, but just as you were about to turn in the direction of the exit you heard shouting from down the hall. Quickly recognizing that one, definitely more angered, voice belonged to Alexia. You didn't mean to eavesdrop but when you heard your name, you couldn't help but be intrigued. 
And so you moved towards the voices, well aware of the fact that you could regret your decision but not being able to stop yourself. You had an inkling of what you were going to hear, and you knew it was probably not going to be anything pretty. As you got closer you recognized the other voice, which surprisingly, belonged to Ingrid.
"Alexia, I just can't understand why you're being so hard on her. She hasn't done anything wrong!" Exclaimed Ingrid, and that fact alone left you totally speechless. While she was never directly mean to you, she never really interacted with you either. Out of all people you didn't expect Ingrid to be the one to stand up for you. Especially to Alexia, who to no one's surprise, was less than happy with Ingrid's opinion.
"I just think it was a mistake to sign her! She shouldn't be here, yet she gets anything she wants because of her dad. Don't blame me for being the one to actually make her work for what she gets, because clearly no one else is going to do it!" The disdain in which she spoke about you was honestly shocking. It wasn't a secret that Alexia had her reservations about you, it's not like she was trying to hide it, but you didn't think that she actually hated you this much.
It stung a little, you have been working your ass off these past few weeks, more than ever before and to hear that she still felt so much hatred towards you despite all your efforts was just insulting at this point. You could score the winner in the Champion's league final and she would still probably think that you're not good enough.
"But Ale all you do is yell in her face all the time! She does work, she's doing a good job, how can you just completely disregard that?" You could tell that Ingrid was desperately trying to say something that would make Alexia take it a bit easier on you, but all her efforts were pointless. You considered intervening, if not for yourself then for Ingrid, you didn't want her wasting her energy on trying to fix something that wasn't fixable anyway. Even though you appreciated it, it was a lost cause.
"Good is not enough! Definitely not for her! She can't just waltz in here and expect that her "good" is going to suffice! She doesn't deserve to be here and if you none of you see that then you're all blind! Her being here is a downgrade for Barça. She's not Barça and never will be. You don't get to be angry with me for being the only one to say the truth out loud." 
And that was it. Your breaking point. You turned around and left as fast as you could. Hoping that you could get safely into your car without seeing anyone, because the last thing you wanted to do was explain to someone why there were tears streaming down your face or why you were shaking so hard that you could barely walk. And it seemed that, for once, luck was in your favor as you didn't run into anyone.
You didn't even register how you got into your car or your apartment. The whole ride back home pretty hazy given your distress and once you made it through your front door you made a beeline for your bed. Completely forgoing lunch in favor of curling up under the covers and just letting everything out. You stayed there for the majority of the day only getting out to take a much needed shower that you hoped would help you relax but no such luck. Every single time you managed to distract yourself, another ugly thought would enter your mind and you would be back at the start. You were pretty insecure to begin with but now the insecurities had Alexia's voice, reminding you that you were, in fact, not enough. And every time you started to feel a bit better you would remember all the things that Alexia said to you or about you for that matter, because apparently she was not above going behind your back and talking shit about you. 
It was hard to understand why her words affected you so much, you have heard many stuff like that before, it's not like it was new. And it was definitely not the worst thing you've ever heard about yourself. It was the fact that Alexia said those things. She was someone you once admired, both for her skills and determination, she was a role model for not only little girls worldwide but also for fellow footballers. She was what everyone wanted to be and she was the one you wanted to impress the most. To hear that you have not only failed in that regard but that she  even believes the team would be better off without you was outwardly painful.
You didn't know what else you could do to make Alexia realise that you were trying your absolute hardest, that you didn't think you would get anything you wanted without working for it first. But you also felt insulted, who was she to make these assumptions? She didn't know you, didn't even make the effort to get to know you. Completely distancing herself away from you the second you joined the team. And for her to say that you get anything you want because of your dad? Yeah, that was just completely disrespectful. At this point you weren't even sure if you wanted to prove yourself to her, but the last thing you wanted was for her to take away your determination from you.
So this new found anger spurred something else inside of you. A desire to work even harder. To get on that pitch and show her that you were dedicated to this team. And even though you fell asleep with tears running down your face, which you felt rather pathetic for, you were determined to not give up. You knew tomorrow would be a better day because you would do everything in your power to make it one and not let Alexia ruin it for you once again. 
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When you walked in the next morning you tried to act confident but you were overwhelmingly anxious. You felt as if the walls were closing in on you while you were changing in the dressing room but you hoped that once would get out on the pitch it would get easier to breath, but that was not the case. The drive and desire from yesterday were still there but it was hard to focus on anything else when your fears were completely taking over you but you didn't let that stop you. 
You hardly slept last night, waking up multiple times  despite you best efforts to try and get some rest. You finally gave up around 5 in the morning, realizing that no matter what you did you were to anxious to relax and go to sleep. But your lack of rest also cause you to completely avoid breakfast, feeling much to nauseous and scared you would end up throwing up anything you ate anyway. You knew it was stupid and irresponsible, you were a professional athlete, you needed food to function but your anxiety meant all rational thinking was out the window. All you could feel was fear, but you were used to it at this point. Trainings were never a pleasant experience for you, no one ever made it manageable for you. So with the lack of sleep, water and food it was no surprise you did not feel well, but at this point you couldn't care less. No one ever cared, why should you?
Alexia certainly did not care, you could see that clearly. She worked you into the ground, and it seemed as though she was aware of it. But she did not accept tired, especially from you, so she kept yelling. Constantly yelling at you during warm up, gym and drills, criticizing and ordering you to go over the same stuff twice or thrice and to run extra laps because apparently you weren't putting in the same effort as everyone else. How she made that assumption was beyond you but you didn't dare to question her. Especially with here current mood which was grumpy to say the least.
It was during the match at the end of the training that you started to feel really faint. Your vision blurrier every passing second but you were certainly not going to ask for a break, positive you wouldn't even be allowed to take one but you also didn't want to give Alexia another thing to scold you for. You did everything right , at least you thought you did, many older girls passed by you during training, telling you that you were doing a good job, so why couldn't Alexia see that? Was her hatred for you so strong that she couldn't accept whenever you did something good?
All of sudden the dizziness got a lot worse and despite your best efforts you had to stop. You stood on the side with your hands on your knees and tried to breathe through the dizziness. You couldn't really tell what was going on around you, except for Alexia's scream to move and someone's hand on your shoulder asking if you're feeling okay. You didn't have it in you to answer but you wanted to keep playing anyway but as you were about to take a step to get back into your position your vision completely blurred and your knees buckled sending you into the ground. 
You didn't pass out right away, slightly aware of your surroundings although everything was too confusing for you to register. You heard some screams and someone's hands grabbing your shoulders, shaking you and lightly tapping your cheek. Then someone yelling for the medics, your feet being lifted into the air and a cool cloth drenched in water being placed over your forehead. It was overwhelming and you wanted to open your eyes to tell everyone to go away but the second you did you were met with so much light that it forced you to close your eyes again, barely catching sight of Ingrid standing over you. 
What you didn't see was Alexia standing on the side too, not too close and not too far, just close enough to see what was going on. Guilt quickly taking over her as she realized how unwell you looked and how she, the captain, the one that was supposed to be there for the team, was responsible for you passed out on the ground, completely unresponsive at this point. To be fair this probably wouldn't have happened if you were properly rested and ate something but Alexia didn't know that. All she knew was that she was horribly overworking you the entire session and now you were passed out, all because of her and every single thought in her head that has justified her behavior towards you was completely gone, instead replaced with intense feeling of shame for not noticing that you weren't doing well and instead believed you were just slacking off. And suddenly if she could take all that she has said and done in the past couple of weeks she would have done it in a heartbeat. Sure she did not really like you, she still thought you were privileged but it was never her intention to cause you any harm, not like this especially. 
You heard someone ask you more questions, if you ate, if you had something to drink but the headache was too much and you were so tired that staying awake seemed like an impossible task at this point and so even though everyone kept telling you to stay awake you decided to just finally let yourself rest for once.
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uhh I don't really like this? definitely needs some editing but I hope you liked it anyway, more parts to come! :)
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emmyrosee · 7 months ago
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So Urm just a thought u got any…. Deep non curse sukuna angst I think it’s a good day to cry.
-anon🥢
Sukuna is nothing if not self sabotaging.
Things with you have been good. Borderline perfect; you’re the missing piece to the life he’s cursed to live, where he’s always self aware of his weaknesses and takes them out on those around him. There is no blessing, not when all he does it hurt. It’s a miracle yuuji and choso deal with his shit enough, he knows they should’ve dropped him off the face of the earth with the pain he causes.
Now, it seems, it’s your turn.
Your turn to be on the receiving end of his fury, his rage and heartbreak, your only chance to escape being to leave him; maybe that’s all he wants: you to leave him.
He stopped calling you. Stopped answering texts. When his brothers and parents ask about you, he merely stays silent, opting against making you sound more divine than they know you are.
You’re perfect. You’re not for him.
Theres a pounding on the door that goes unanswered by everyone in the house, and he groans as he gets up to answer it, only to reveal your frame in the door.
You look distraught. You’re angry, he can see that in your eyes, there’s a betrayal buried deep in them. Your face holds a scowl and your breathing picks up at the sight of him.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Sukuna rolls his eyes and walks away from the open door, knowing you’ll follow him no matter what. “So?”
“So?” You ask, offended. “You and I are supposed to be in love, supposed to be partners in crime-“
“Im hearing a lot of ‘supposed to be,’ and not a lot of ‘have to be’” he snaps. He hears you take a breath to say something, but you don’t. He screws his eyes shut. “Get over it. I didn’t sign a contract with my blood saying I have to come to your every beck and call.”
“Sukuna. Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Being an asshole,” you say firmly. “Let me in. I’m here. What’s going on?”
“I’m sick of you.”
At his blunt words, you gasp, and sukuna feels the bile rise up his throat. He’ll do anything though. Anything to make you stop loving him. “What…?”
“I’m sick. Of you,” he echos. “You checking up on me, demanding we go out, flaunting me off to your friends like I’m some damn trophy-“
“Because I love you!” You hiss. “I want to show you off, make the world see how lucky I am to have you!”
“‘Show me off?’” He cackles, spinning on his heel to face you. “There’s nothing to show. I am nothing to you. You, are nothing to me.”
You reel back at his words, waterline swelling with tears as you are wounded by his words. “You think because I take you out on a few dates, we kissed a little and I held that little hand of yours, that you’re anything special to me?” He shakes his head with a cruel chuckle, “I’ve done that to every broad I’ve ever been with. You’re not special. Never were anything more than a body to me.”
You puff out your chest like an animal trying to protect itself, “then what about the nights we cuddled?” You demand. “What about our late night trips to McDonald’s or 7/11? What about the nights you cried in my chest about your miseries and hardships, and I carded your hair and cradled you close to my body?”
“What about them!” He yells, the cracks in his confidents breaking. Those moments mean the world to him, and for him to now force you to use them against him has his blood running cold. “Yeah, I let you see the softer bits of me. Who cares?”
“I do!” You wail. “Because it made me think, for one second, that we could be something special! Something we earned and worked for together!”
“I think you forget,” he snarls, “I lived a fine life without you in it. We can go right fucking back the minute you started thinking this bullshit.”
You flinch at the harshness of his words. It’s working. Sukuna feels it. The love you have for him dwindling, the connection being frayed and severed with every pass of his words-
“Then do it,” you whisper. “If your life was so great loveless, then go back. But just know, I’ll never stop loving you. Ever. You’ll never have the peace of the freedom of heartbreak when it comes to me.”
With that, you take a step back, followed by another, but your eyes never leave his. Your bottom lip wobbles and you grab your coat over the back of his chair. He watches as you cover your mouth with your hand before dashing out, slamming the door behind you and leaving a trail of tears. His eyes are fixed on the door that’s finally stopped shaking on its hinges from the slam, as if waiting for you to sweep back in and demand his love, demand him to care and want you back.
But it doesn’t come. You don’t come back.
He can’t fight the urge to swipe everything off the counter with his arms in a fury, plates and cups flying off and shattering under the force. He pants like a voracious beast, angry and predatory, but he’s grounded as he steps on a shard of crystal from his mom’s wine glass.
And now, rather than chase you down the street, begging for your forgiveness, he sits down, using his hands to pick up the bigger shards. There’s an unfamiliar trickling down his cheek of hot tears, one splatters to the floor, and that’s it. Sukuna, with the monster he worked so hard to keep at bay, ruins another paradise in his life.
He cries alone.
All alone.
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intuitively-her · 4 months ago
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You've been through many trials and tribulations that have only made you stronger! I'm getting specifically that you don't look like the things you've been through. From the outside, you actually look perfect, or your lifestyle does. People would never know the sacrifices it took for you to get here though. Most people wouldn't have even made it through some of the obstacles that you've faced. I also get the vibe that you're very reserved with your energy. Kinda like you don't speak unless spoken to. Not in a bad way though. You could be an ambivert. ENTJ? INFJ? You don't have to do the most to get attention, it comes natural to you. You know how to stand alone. Never been a "follow the leader" type. Your balance and stability are surprising as well. It could be because of your age. Or maybe you used to live a reckless lifestyle but managed to pull yourself out of it. I feel like you have a tendency to go ghost for awhile, but then randomly pop out on some new sh*t. People can never keep up with you. You're an enigma. It kinda frustrates people tbh.😂 On the flip side, you are very loving to those closest to you. You always trust yourself and follow your heart to wherever it leads you. You are your top priority and will always make sure your cup is full before giving to someone else. If your love is not being reciprocated, then you will simply leave. Your love is intense.❤️‍🔥 You could be a gift-giver or you enjoy doing acts of kindness. You always know what to do/say at the right moment. Lastly, your star qualities are VERY attractive to others.🤩 You're so humble about it too. You could be an influencer or have an active presence on social media. You have a lot of copycats and people that try to emulate your energy. It never really sticks though.
Confirmations: Confident, Intellectual, 777, Sarcastic, Smart-ass, Mixed signals, Intimidating, 1010, Charming, Promiscuous, Friendly, Competitive, Creative
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You always find a way to turn your pain into power! It doesn't matter how many hardships you face, you never let it keep you down. You're always onto the next best thing. Always looking towards the future. Someone here likes to take solo-trips often or you enjoy hiking/being in nature. You often come up creative ideas or new ways to make money. Always willing to learn something new. That trait of yours is highly admired by your bosses/higher-ups. You work very well with others. When people work with you, it quite literally increases their luck and money flow. So be mindful of who you share that energy with. You are such a kind and loving individual, even at your lowest. Give yourself more credit boo!❤️ You're very committed to your self-improvement and personal goals no matter what you go through. That's something to be proud of.
Confirmations: Famous, Sexy voice, 111, Friendly, Funny, Someone here has a cat that is very clingy, 444, Pretty skin, Hermoine from Harry Potter, Elusive, Life of the party, Genuine, Beautiful, Seeing 8's everywhere, Someone here owns an exotic animal or you want one
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You know how to transmute any negative energy/situation that is sent your way. You are an alchemist. This is my witchy pile.🔮 You like to play fair and see both sides in situations. Very unbiased. However, you'll also put a b*tch in their place if needed. Cause I'm getting that people like to come into your energy to test/bully you for some reason. But you shut that sh*t down real quick.✅ You may be very introverted, or you have this innocent/naive vibe to you. A lot of people blindly trust you. They know you would never try to cross them. You're a big risk taker. You might do something unconventional for work. People love how you march to the beat of your drum always. You might spend a lot of time alone or you keep a close-knit group of friends. You're not afraid to stand alone whatsoever. Nobody can steal your happiness. That is what's most powerful about you.⭐
Confirmations: Genuine, 911, 818, Mysterious, Intoxicating, 717, Witch, Self-absorbed, Pretty eyes, 737, 777, Uptight, Predator, Intellectual, Elusive
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You're more than what meets the eye. From the outside, you seem very shy or monotonous even. But you're a true gem baby.💎Your charisma and charm is one of a kind. You stand out without even realizing it. Your wit and sarcasm is very attractive. You have a very unbothered vibe to you. In your own lane, and outta the mix. It makes me think of "Daria". You might go ghost pretty often. You're very big on self-care and your alone time. On the go a lot. ✈️People feel like they can't get ahold of you anymore. You're very focused on self these days. Me vs. me kinda energy. You're a natural creator. Very artistic and out of the box. You might've been this way since childhood. You're often the topic of discussion to those around you. People really enjoy having you around, whether you know this or not. You're a sweetheart once you truly open up. People feel lucky that they took the time to get to know you. You're a true friend.🩷
Confirmations: Clingy, 111, Wife, Light skin tone, 222, One night stand, Player, 999, Mixed signals, Addict, Psychic, Lazy, Outgoing, Eccentric
💖Please do not copy, repost, or steal my work. Thanks!💖
I missed you guyss xx!!🩷🩷🩷
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pinchofhoney · 1 year ago
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broken promises, part one
part one | part two | part three »
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 1.8k
warning: none
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: coryo is the type of person i sincerely hate and i'm glad that there are no such arrogant people in my life, who think they are better than others and who in crisis situations only care about themselves and to save their own arse. but at the same time i'm aware that young snow could be someone i'd catch a crush on at school. so why shouldn't i hate him even more?
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: you told me to tag you everywhere, so i'm back to doing it again; @wolfmoonmusic
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
The problem with snow is its tendency to melt, mirroring the way we once thought our feelings would endure forever. Yet, shouldn't emotions, particularly those nestled in our hearts, last longer?
You had known Coriolanus since childhood, and your families had always been close. You had grown up together, surviving the hardships of the war-torn Capitol side by side, and now, in the post-war era, you were still inseparable. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you going above a simple friendship. Your connection ran deep, like the roots of the oldest trees in the Panem's forests.
Coriolanus was an intriguing character, a puzzle you had been solving together since you were children. He was the embodiment of Capitol charm, with his perfectly tailored suits, polished manners, and charismatic smile that could sway even the most skeptical of Capitol elites. But you knew that beneath that carefully constructed facade was a mind as sharp as a blade and a heart that carried the weight of his family's fallen reputation.
Yet, when he was with you, it was as if a different side of him emerged. The hard lines on his face softened, and his icy demeanor melted away. With you, he could be himself, unburdened by the expectations of Capitol society. It was a rare glimpse into the man behind the mask, and you cherished those moments even more than your favorite jasmine tea and the cat you found shortly after the war had ended.
You couldn't help but admire his intelligence, his quick wit, and his relentless determination to succeed in a world that often seemed stacked against him. His family's name might have been tarnished, but Coriolanus was determined to reclaim their lost glory. He was driven by a burning ambition that flickered like an eternal flame, and you were his unwavering support, the one who fanned that flame to keep it burning bright.
In your eyes, he was more than the sum of his flaws and ambitions. He was the boy you had shared secrets with under moonlit skies, the man who had held you when the world crumbled around you, and the person who knew you better than anyone else. With him, you felt safe, cherished, and loved in a way that no one else could replicate.
Your love for him was boundless, and you were content in the knowledge that you were his confidante, the one person he could be truly vulnerable with. Your relationship with Coriolanus was the envy of many in academy, a seemingly perfect match of two souls intertwined by fate and affection. You were the golden couple, a shining example of love and devotion in a world that often lacked both.
But you wished you had known sooner that it's often the things we love most that destroy us, as Coriolanus Snow's world was about to collide with that of a girl named Lucy Gray and you were not ready for it to happen.
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As the day of the tribute's arrival approached, you had been by Coriolanus's side more than ever. The weeks leading up to this moment had been filled with your unwavering support. You had reassured him countless times, sitting together in your cozy bedroom, his head resting gently on your thighs while you combed your fingers through his soft blonde curls. It was a calming gesture, one that had become a comforting routine. You listened to his concerns, his fears, and his ambitions, and you were sure that everything would be fine, that he would be just perfect as a mentor, and that his scholarship and dreams of continuing his studies at the university were within reach.
Your words were like a soothing melody to him, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this daunting new role. He would look into your eyes with his cold ones, filled with gratitude, and you could see the weight lifting from his shoulders, if only temporarily. And in those moments, you felt like his anchor, the one who kept him grounded amid the chaos of his own thoughts.
Now, you both stood at the nearly deserted train station, the oppressive heat of the day hanging heavily in the air. The scorching sun beat down relentlessly, casting shimmering waves of heat across the empty platform. It seemed that most of the Capitol's citizens had chosen to stay indoors, seeking refuge from the sweltering weather.
The only other souls present were a handful of stoic peacekeepers, their pristine white uniforms stark against the dull backdrop of the station. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond, a reminder of the bustling Capitol life that lay just outside the station's borders.
Coriolanus tightly held a single white rose plucked from his grandmother's garden, a symbol of his intent to make a lasting impression on his tribute. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of your academy uniforms. The simplicity of the white rose spoke of his sincerity and dedication to this new role as mentor.
With no clear timetable for the tribute train's arrival, the two of you stood patiently, pretending that the day's weather didn't bother you, the weight of uncertainty hanging over you like a heavy cloud. Coriolanus shifted his gaze between the tracks and the single white bloom in his hand.
You observed him closely, and when his gaze finally met yours, you offered a reassuring smile. “Remember, Coryo,” you murmured, “no matter what, you'll be the mentor she needs; your sincerity and kindness will shine through.”
“I hope you're right, Y/N,” he replied softly, his voice filled with a hint of doubt. “I need her to survive on the arena as long as she can,” he added, as if the idea of a group of vulnerable youths engaging in brutal competition in just a few days were the most ordinary occurrence in the world.
But that was precisely what it represented for the Capitol residents – the Hunger Games, an annual spectacle of entertainment.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly under the unrelenting sun, and the station remained eerily devoid of any signs of life. It felt as though hours had passed, but in truth, you couldn't be sure. Beads of perspiration formed on your brows, and you could feel the heat radiating from the platform's surface.
You and Coriolanus were on the verge of giving up and returning to the cool embrace of your penthouses when, at long last, the distant rumble of an oncoming train reached your ears. The sound grew steadily louder, and you looked at each other, exchanging tired glances.
Coriolanus's grip on the white rose tightened as he turned his gaze towards the approaching train. As he rose from the bench where you had sat, his anticipation peaked. You stood beside him, wanting to be his support, but you had no idea that your role was about to change very soon.
The train pulled into the station with a hiss of steam and the screech of brakes, billowing clouds of moisture and smoke into the scorching air. The two of you watched the machine in silent, your heart pounding in your chest. This was the moment when you would come face to face with people from the Districts, individuals whose lives were so far removed from the opulence and extravagance of your own. It was a rare and humbling experience, one that left you with a slight quiver in your step as you clung to Coriolanus, seeking solace in his reassuring presence.
For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. The train's doors remained sealed shut, as if holding its cargo of tributes in a reluctant embrace. The only thing that reached you was an unpleasant stench wafting from the carriages, a stark reminder of the grim reality that these young souls were about to face.
Finally the impatient peacekeepers took matters into their own hands. They descended upon the train, their authoritative presence enough to scare the tributes out of their temporary sanctuary. One by one, they were herded onto the platform, their expressions ranging from fear to defiance.
And then, your eyes locked onto a figure unlike the others. A girl stood there, her presence a stark contrast to the muted palettes of others tributes. She wore a rainbow-colored dress that shimmered with vibrancy, a flare of color and individuality amidst the sea of old attire. You recognized her immediately from the television screens, a girl whose name had already become a part of your daily life even before this encounter.
Lucy Gray Baird.
The very name whispered in the hushed tones of Capitol citizens as they watched her on the screens, intrigued and fascinated by her enigmatic presence from the Reaping. Her gaze swept across the platform, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked onto each other's.
You couldn't help but break into a warm, welcoming smile. With a cheerful wave of your hand, you signaled to her that both you and Coriolanus were eagerly awaiting her arrival, hoping to ease the initial tension of this life-altering moment.
Lucy Gray's response was a hesitant yet appreciative smile in return. Her steps were slow and cautious as she walked slowly toward you, a palpable sense of curiosity radiated from her, her eyes flitting between the unfamiliar faces that lined the platform.
Your gaze briefly shifted to Coriolanus, a subtle expectation in your heart that his eyes would mirror the warmth you felt. But when you looked at him, you noticed something different. It was as if his eyes were magnetically drawn to Lucy Gray, locked onto her with a nearly unwavering intensity that bordered on fixation. Those eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now held an expression you had never quite seen before. It was as though he had stumbled upon a priceless museum exhibit, left captivated, awestruck, and undeniably intrigued.
A soft, knowing smile played at the corners of your lips, silently acknowledging his reaction to the girl before you. You gently squeezed his hand, a gesture of affection and solidarity. You understood that this moment bore immense significance for him, that he was on the corner of a journey filled with unforeseen challenges. Lucy Gray was the keynote of this new chapter in his life, and you couldn't help but admire her from a distance, captivated by her unique presence and the aura that surrounded her.
Before you could utter a word, Coriolanus took a determined step forward, his eyes still locked on the girl. He extended his hand, offering her the pristine white rose he had clutched throughout the wait and with a subtle nod, he greeted her in a tone that resonated with formality and welcome.
“Welcome to the Capitol.”
part two »
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hoffmansgirl · 13 days ago
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SALVATORE ━ father charlie mayhew 𒋲ㅤ͏
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PART 1.・ PART 2 (coming soon)
summary. in search of understanding and compassion, y/n finds herself growing fond of her new priest and teacher, father charlie mayhew.
a/n: holyyy i'm so excited for this! it is based off a request that i can't find atm, anon u know who u are :D as always feedback is deeply appreciated & requests are open ♡
tw. blasphemy; subtle touches; slight praise?; father charlie is a teaseeeee! (basically, nothing too extreme just yet) | wc. 2862
Y/N was sitting in the schoolyard, pen moving against the page of her journal swiftly as she lost herself in the little world she created in her head. The feeling of grass on her bare legs somewhat comforting, taking off some of the stress blooming in her chest.
It was almost finals season in the catholic university she went to. Every few seconds she could hear the other girls' worried voices, discussing the importance of the finals, almost as if their lives depended on it.
Y/N leaned against the tree, deep sigh leaving her mouth as she closed her journal, fingers brushing against the cover almost lovingly. She looked around, the sun almost hiding behind the stone brick walls. A few groups of girls were scattered around the yard, girls she barely spoke to. It wasn't that they weren't kind, she just didn't feel like fraternising with any of them.
She was just... different. Slightly older than most of them, although no one besides the nuns and teachers knew that. And she wasn't really a believer. Her parents were. made her go to the church every sunday, pray every night. They did everything to make her the perfect daughter, but they failed.
It was probably a form of self defence; some kind of a protest against everything her family wanted her to be. She became a sinner. Got drunk, took drugs, smoked, and even slept with a boy or two. The last one made her parents so angry and so disappointed that they made a decision to send her to a catholic college. A catholic, girls' only college. The loneliness she felt in the place almost made her regret everything she's done in the past.
Y/N got up from the grass and straightened her skirt when the big clock on the wall struck a quarter to six. She had a mass to attend to, and it was obligatory to pass the semester.
Some of the girls looked at her when she passed, some greeted her with a smile. their souls so pure, so untouched, she almost felt jealous.
She entered the church soon after, the soft clicking of her Mary Janes against the marble floor disturbing the quietness of the temple. The smell of incense filled her nostrils, so familiar yet so distant at the same time. The church was still empty as she sat in the third row, staring down at her hands. Goosebumps covered the skin of her legs, the cold air making her shiver slightly. She folded her hands in a prayer, kneeling and focusing on the cross behind an altar.
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace, taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to your will, so that I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy with you forever in the next", she chanted, voice quiet, eyes closing involuntarily.
She made the sign of the cross, feeling somewhat better after the short prayer. Her eyes opened, and she looked at the cross behind an altar, a small smile adoring her face. It was almost as if she could feel His presence next to her.
"I don't mean to interrupt", a low, yet soft voice came from behind her, and she was quite surprised at the fact she couldn't recognise it. Y/N turned her head, and her breath hitched at the sight of a young man in a cassock. His dark hair slicked back perfectly, and oh lord, he was so handsome, all of him. He looked more like a personal trainer of some sort than a priest. She could see his muscles even through the thick material of his gown. He walked towards her slowly, hands behind his back, pink mouth turning upwards, offering her a kind smile. "That was beautiful. It's rare to see someone so dedicated to prayer these days. Especially someone as young as you", he continued, now standing next to her as she kept wide eyes on him, his much bigger form towering over her. She cleared her throat, heart pounding in her chest. Y/N's cheeks burned as she realised he was waiting for an answer, playful glint in his eyes at the sight of her abashment.
"Excuse me, I don't mean to offend you..." the words word came out unsure, his intense gaze focused on her face, as if he was trying to memorise every detail about her. the young man nodded, meeting her eyes, and something dangerous sparked in his dark irises just for a moment. "I haven't seen you around here before".
"Of course. I should've introduced myself sooner, forgive me. I'm Father Charlie Mayhew", he clarified, the way his name rolled off his tongue made Y/N shift uncomfortably, hands shaking on her lap.
"I'm Y/N", she retorted quickly. "I'm so sorry for the directness, Father... but you are so young for a priest".
He chuckled softly, shaking his head, and Y/N couldn't help but smile, body finally starting to relax.
"And you seem too old to be a third year student, yet here you are", he noted playfully, sitting next to her on a wooden bench. Y/N gasped in disbelief at his sarcastic comment, the urge to laugh too strong now as she pressed her lips together in attempt to stop it.
She crossed her legs, the already short skirt riding up her thigh, and Father Charlie wasn't oblivious to that. She didn't notice the way his jaw tightened, shaky breath leaving his mouth, gaze lingering on her bare skin for a little bit too long.
"I must admit, Father", she started, leaning back against the cold wood, eyes focused on the altar, hands back on her lap in order to warm herself up. "I haven't confessed in ages. And never of my own accord", she spoke softly, the weight of her sins unbearable now, her head tilting to look at him, "And I'm not a saint. I've done a lot of things i'm not proud of. i still do", she admitted, the last sentence coming out as a whisper. She expected to see disgust in his eyes, maybe some signs of pity; yet all she found was an understanding going deeper than she would've expected. Father Charlie nodded, deep sigh leaving his mouth. He cocked his head, and Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his jaw clenched uncontrollably, the air between heavy, weird tension rising between the two.
Her eyes followed his every single move, unable to look away, mesmerised by his angelic presence.
"We are all sinners, Y/N", Father Charlie met her eyes, yet he looked absent, as if there were other things bothering him at the moment. "If you ever feel the need to talk, about anything, I will be more than happy to help. Come to me anytime", he reached for her leg, never breaking eye contact as he traced his thumb over her thigh softly. His words seemed so ambiguous, so wrong, almost blasphemous, considering his position. Yet she nodded her head politely, her gaze landing on his lips, need beginning to consume every single part of her body.
In that moment, she felt like she could trust him with her life. His presence so intimidating yet comforting, like a warm hug that she oh so desperately needed.
"I will keep that in mind. thank you, Father", Y/N pressed her thighs together, licking her lips nervously. He nodded, squeezing her thigh for the last time before standing up. Y/N shivered at the sudden coldness surrounding her, thigh burning from his soft touch. Charlie's eyes running over her form for the last time before he turned away and left.
Y/N exhaled, gripping at the edges of the pew tightly, and she swore she could hear her own heartbeat in the quietness of the church.
Lust. Yet another sin to add to the already long list. The very thing that made her parents send her to a catholic school, yet here she was, desire consuming every part of her body as she saw Father Charlie in the back of her mind, the memory of his warm hand on her thigh making her head spin. She felt pathetic at having such unholy thoughts about a freaking priest, the old version of her, the sinner, buried deep inside, beginning to set her body aflame, and it scared her.
She almost laughed hysterically at the ridiculousness of her current position as she looked at the altar again. The cross behind it almost mocking her, it's as if she could feel the disappointment of her Lord as she gazed at it blankly, the image of Father Charlie's smile appearing in her head yet again.
A few days passed, and it was as if Father Charlie vanished into thin air. It made Y/N wonder if he wasn't all an illusion, some sort of manifestation of her desires. Ever since the rather unusual encounter in the church, she hasn't seen him. His words echoed in her mind pretty often. "Come to me anytime". He had to be real. She actually contemplated reaching out to him, going into the church fifteen minutes before the mass started in hope of seeing him again.
Yet he never came. And she was disappointed; she grew fond of him, even though they only talked once. Loneliness sparked in her chest yet again, now more than ever. Yet she continued with her classes, being as perfect as ever, never letting anyone see through her. The only thing she could think of was his him, a devilishly handsome priest, whose eyes haunted her even in dreams.
When Y/N woke up that morning, sun shining through the curtains, an image of Father Charlie appeared in her mind once again. She hated herself for thinking about him so often, yet his smile seemed to be stuck in her head, his voice echoing through her head like some sort of a dreamy psalm.
It was Wednesday; which meant there was a hard day ahead of her. Bible reading classes with Sister Megan, whom she adored, very much, but her presence felt melancholic, as if she was sucking the life out of Y/N. She was so pure, as every single girl in the university, and it made her angry. Angry because she couldn't relate to any of them, angry because the only person who seemed to understand her was Father Charlie. Father Charlie who disappeared as quickly as he appeared.
She groaned at the thought of him, rubbing her eyes slowly, stretching, dramatic yawn leaving her mouth.
The air felt hot on her skin, smile appearing on her face nonetheless, eyes squinting involuntarily as she took in the weather outside the window. It was such a beautiful day, summer air making her feel better as she got up slowly, starting to get ready for the day.
It was ten past eight as she left her room, locking it before walking down the hallway to leave the residence hall, her heels clicked against the wooden floor as she walked, the silence almost suffocating, a musky smell of the antique building filling her lungs. She took a left and walked through the classroom door confidently.
"Good morning, Sister", she looked at the spot behind the teacher's desk, expecting to see Sister's Megan contagious smile, yet she was met with Father Charlie's intense gaze.
She inhaled softly at the sight of him as she stopped in the middle of the class, heart throbbing in her throat. She was mad that, once again, he looked absolutely breathtaking; not wearing a cassock this time, instead there was a black suit that cling perfectly to his muscular body. His ring glistened in the sun as he drummed his fingers against the desk, back pressed against the back of the chair comfortably, legs spread wide, almost inviting her to come in between them, and her heart throbbed with longing at the sight.
"Well, good morning, Y/N", he smiled and looked her up and down shamelessly, his gaze making her feel small as she returned his smile hesitantly.
"Cha- Father", Y/N breathed, chewing on her bottom lip, unsure what to say. He was the last person she expected to see, but she was relieved to see him. "Is Sister Megan sick?"
She walked to the front desk slowly, putting her bag down on the wood, eyes never leaving his form.
"No need to worry. Sister Megan is perfectly fine. Although I will be the one to conduct the Wednesday classes from now on", he explained, flashing his white teeth at her as he smiled. She thought that he looked really happy to see her; happiness bloomed in Y/N's chest, body starting to get warm, heat lingering in between her thighs.
"Good", she breathed a little bit too enthusiastically, the excitement obvious in her voice. "I wanted to come and see you, Father, but it seems as if you were... absent", she wet her lips, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt mindlessly, battling her eyelashes. The gesture made Charlie twitch in his seat; her faked innocence was adorable, her body and eyes betraying her true intentions right away.
"Yes, I was quite busy", he sighed, getting up abruptly. "Why did you want to see me? Did something happen?", Charlie asked, genuinely curious as he walked over to Y/N, standing right in front of her crossed legs. Her breath hitched as she looked up, meeting his gaze, tensing at the closeness.
"I...", she hesitated, "I don't know".
A lie.
He half-smiled as y/n uncrossed her legs, gripping the edges of the desk until her knuckles turned white. Her chest heaved with uneven breaths, yet she never looked away from his eyes, tension inside of her stomach ready to snap anytime now.
"Y/N...", he leaned in, "Lying is a sin".
Charlie took a step back, his gaze hardening, almost becoming demanding as he clenched his jaw.
"Luke, 8:17", his voice almost taunting as he challenged her, dangerous glint in his dark irises.
Her palms became sweaty as she chanted: "For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light".
Charlie's smile almost predatory, adoration taking over his features as he tilted his head, hand reaching out to put a strand of Y/N's hair behind her ear. The girl's eyes fluttered shut as she exhaled through her mouth, the feeling of his warm hand on her cheek so right, as if he was meant just for her.
"Smart girl", he praised, voice low and proud. He dropped his hand, backing off and she finally felt like she could breathe again. She hated herself for enjoying his touch and words so much, his position more exciting than terrifying now. Yet they both knew he shouldn't be doing this, using her submissiveness to feed his own sick fantasies, teasing her until she broke. But there was no denying the effect he had on her, panties damp from the arousal coating them, embarrassment and guilt heavy on her chest, yet the lust blooming in her stomach stronger.
The air around her felt cold, even though it was hot outside. She so desperately wanted him to touch her again, but she woke up from the trance quickly, clearing her throat as the clock struck eight thirty.
"I'm sorry, Father", her voice barely above a whisper as she fixed her hair, jumping off from the desk as she heard her classmates' hushed voices from the corridor.
Y/N sat down across from him as she lowered her gaze, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, face flushed as she tried to maintain her balance. Charlie's appearance as perfect as before as he sat back on the chair casually; disappointment bloomed in her chest at his stoic posture, thinking that it didn't affect him at all.
"You need to confess before the weight of your sins crushes you, Y/N", his voice dangerously low yet steady, spark in his dark eyes, before he greeted the other students as they walked in. Professional look on his face, the one she hasn't seen before, as he started the class, his words inaudible as she followed his every move with curious eyes.
Father Charlie was not just a priest. Something about him made her crave for him, all of him. He seemed to understand her so well, even though they barely spoke. She found comfort in his demanding yet affectionate manner, the way he praised her, touched her softly, almost as if he expected her to break if he pushed too hard. Heart filled with longing as she followed the movement of his lips, the way his silver cross necklace glistened in the sunlight. Dimples appearing on his face when he smiled at something her classmate said, dark eyes that kept on meeting her own.
So divine yet so cruel.
So tempting yet so forbidden.
━━━━━━━━━━
2024, hoffmansgirl ©
nicholas alexander chavez masterlist ✿ | about the author
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wannaeatramyeon · 4 months ago
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Lookism: "If you die tomorrow, would you have any regrets?"
G/N. Jake, Goo, Gun, DG, Ryuhei, Sammy. Reminder that Gun is canonically a gamer lmao.
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Jake looks up at you in surprise, the morbid question catching him off guard.
"Why?" he asks, tilting his head.
"It was just a question I read."
"Hmm," Jake rubs at his chin and gazes off somewhere in the distance, no doubt thinking about all that has happened in his life. "Yeah. Loads."
Oh. You weren't expecting that-
"A lot of things I've made my peace with," Jake shrugs and you know he means Sinu and Samuel and Big Deal.
The mess with Workers, the falling out with Samuel and end of the Golden Era, the arrest of so many of his crew. He knows his mom is disappointed that he is so much like his father, his time in juvie, and Jake thinks if he tried better in school instead of fighting then maybe things would have worked out a lot differently.
"But-" he tugs on your hand, pulling you off-balance and falling straight into his lap.
"I'd regret not spending more time with you. All the time trying to be a good boss rather than a good boyfriend."
You open your mouth to argue that he is a good boyfriend but he continues on-
"I'd regret leaving you on your own. Even though I know you'd find someone easily," And Jake manages a small wistful smile, "I'd regret not being there for you."
.
.
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"Me?" Goo blinks, looking up from his manga.
"Yes, you. The only other person here."
"Just checking, Cupcake." Goo thinks briefly for a moment before making up his mind.
"I'll regret not seeing how this manga ends," then he narrows his eyes, stabbing angrily at the page, "And not going to Japan to hunt down this asshole for killing my fave off-screen."
"Goo!" Maybe this is on you for expecting a serious answer.
He gets up and makes his way to you, peppers kisses all over your face as you roll your eyes. "You're not planning on killing me are you, Sweetheart?"
"Yes. Tonight. There's a knife under my pillow."
"Make sure you don't wake me, do it quick," he grins mischievously then-
An unpleasant thought pops up and he pulls a face. "Once I'm dead, you better not fall in love with anyone else. My ghost will haunt you, y'know."
"Fine, I'll just be sad and alone and mourning over you forever."
"Perfect!"
But what would Goo actually regret?
What's the saying? You can't take it with you.
Goo has such fun plans once he retires from all this crew shit. Neither of you have to work another day again, you can just spend the rest of your lives terrorising the general public instead. Travelling the world, swimming in a pool of money together, sleeping on a bed of cash. All that fun stuff.
Goo doesn't regret the time amassing his fortune, his little safety net for the future. But if he was to die tomorrow, he would regret not having that future with you.
.
.
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Gun pauses the video game at your question, then turns to you with a brow arched, "Why do you think I'm going to die?"
"It's hypothetical. Like in a fight or something."
An arrogant smile spreads, "And who's strong enough to kill me?"
You click your tongue in annoyance at his response although you hate to admit that damn, you find his attitude sexy as hell. There's just something about him being able to back up his confidence with his skills and talent.
"Just answer my question!"
"No I would not have any regrets," he says, already turning back and resuming his game.
Of course Gun doesn't. As if someone like him would have any regrets.
Eyes still on the screen and fingers clicking on the controller, Gun adds quietly. "But you will be taken care of."
Oh.
If Gun were to die tomorrow, he would regret not being able to take care of you. Being by your side. In his line of work, it is always a possibility no matter how strong he is. The least he could do, and has done, is make sure that at least no harm or hardships befalls you after he is gone.
Money, protection, freedom. If he can't have a future, then he will assure yours.
.
.
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DG falters mid-stride, giving it the briefest of thoughts before coming to a conclusion.
"Nope," he says with a cocky smirk.
He has very little to regret. His life as DG is what most people dream of. Fame and fortune, power and influence.
As James Lee he has proven he's the strongest, he's the peak and untouchable.
There's very little left for him to accomplish. Why would he have any regrets?
But, he supposes, as he is later handled by the assistants and the stylists, then plasters on a fake smile for TV appearances before being ushered to some event full of schmoozers and fakers and having to make small talk as DG, the idol and CEO-
Is that maybe if he could do it again, he would choose something with more privacy. More freedom. That he could do what he wants, whenever he wants.
And most importantly-
That he can walk hand in hand with you down the street without rabid fans screaming and the paparazzi photos making headlines.
Without you being on the receiving end of death threats and unhinged letters, and his agent and company telling him that he needs to apologize for his relationship. Backtrack it. Single idols sells better, appeals to the public more.
If DG died tomorrow, he thinks that actually he would regret this. He regrets keeping you in the shadows.
.
.
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Ryuhei doesn't hesitate and tells you he wishes you were his first. For everything.
Even hand holding. Even hugs.
You pull a face at that.
"That's... Sweet." You say, lying through your teeth as Ryuhei looks at you with concerned puppy eyes.
"You wish the same, right?"
"Sure," you agree because where's the harm in appeasing this goofball.
In truth, and Ryuhei hates thinking about it, is that he does desperately wish that he met you first. Before Mitsuki, before anyone else.
Nevermind that it's a completely futile, fanciful dream because everything that has happened has led him to you.
But he thinks it would have worked out better. He could have been a better person, a better boyfriend. If he met you before he had a chance to develop his sex pest tendencies and obsessive behaviour that you had to stamp out.
It's pointless though. Not even worth dwelling on. What has happened has happened and he could only try to be better now.
Ryuhei considers the question again with a sigh. If he dies tomorrow, what would he regret?
Oh yeah! He would absolutely regret this!
"I'd regret that we can't bang anymore!"
"Ryuhei!"
.
.
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Samuel immediately feels defensive at your question.
He thinks about what he hasn't yet achieved. All his dreams of becoming King, being at the top, and yet he's no closer.
"Why?" he asks, eyes starting to narrow behind his glasses.
You hold up both palms, in a gesture to indicate you didn't mean anything by it and your face tells him to just chill.
"I dunno. I found it and thought it was an interesting question."
"It's not." Samuel says, effectively ending the conversation and eyes dipping back down to his phone.
But it doesn't just end.
Samuel spirals and doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day, his shortcomings haunting him instead.
He drinks and he smokes and he spends even more time at work, trying to dull the ache of his inferiority.
The mornings and nights pass by in a blur, a string of toxic behaviours and self sabotage, until eventually - he comes to.
His failures and faults pushed to the back of his mind, rather than a constant reminder.
Then like a fog clearing, he finds clarity again. He sees your face, the worry, the trepidation... The guilt for asking an innocent question.
And Samuel knows that his biggest regret of all if he dies tomorrow is that you deserved better and he hasn't been able to give that to you.
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spookypete-94 · 6 months ago
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Dark Horse- Breath
PriceXFem!reader
Start of a mini series. Reader is a single mother, working double shifts at a restaurant. Father of the child starts to become a problem while reader is at work and Price offers a solution. Non-con mentioned but not described. Slight age gap between reader around 25 and Price around 35.
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Hard work was never something that had bothered you. Entering the work force at the ripe age of 14, you had learned many things the hard way. Like how what you thought was your "Highschool Sweetheart" was the love of your life.. Until he took advantage of you, in a time where you had too much to drink at a graduation celebration caused by him egging you on. Ultimately, the cost of his choice forcing you to become pregnant. You did not know how ever, that you were carrying his child when you broke it off with him, upset he had pulled such a stunt on you. Again, learning the hard way- you became forever tied to him, but would never settle with him.
Even for such a hardship to happen at a young age, you were blessed with the best gift. A piece of you. The entire pregnancy, you prepared yourself for the baby to come out like your ex. A reminder of what happened to you, but would care for nonetheless. But to your surprise, your baby boy came out with your color hair and orbs that matched your own. Literally the apple from your tree which quickly became the center of your eye.
Naming him Abel, meaning breath. He would be your fresh air. A man you would try to raise better for this world.
Locking the door behind you, you turned down to look at your little one. He was always so bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning, donning his school backpack.
"We got everything?"
"Yup." Abel said popping the p, reaching for your hand to hold it as you walked him to his school. He rather liked school for his age, making friends with ease. Watching as he skipped next to you, and listening to what he thought was going to happen at school today. These moments were what you loved most, feeling truly connected with Abel.
Infront of the school doors, kneeling down to speak with him face to face and fiddle with his jacket.
"Dad will pick you up today." You said smoothing his hair.
"Oh.." Abel said quietly. Abel knew how hard having split custody with his dad was for you. Your ex may be terrible to you, but he was a good father to Abel. Making getting full custody of Abel hard and the fact due to your funds coming from a restaurant. Of course the boy who took advantage of you turned into a man that became successful. Many times he would bait you ,"If you just came back to me." A smug smirk on his face almost telling you he'd knew you would come running back. Instead, you planted firmly, took root and grew. Getting a job at a local restaurant and quickly becoming it's best worker. Making enough to make ends meet, living pay check to pay check but still taking care of your son.
"It'll be alright momma, I'll see you later tonight." His arms coming around his neck and pulling you into him. Nearly teetering on falling over, but instead pulling him into you closer to lean on him. A perfect explanation of your relationship with Abel.
Watching him run into school you waited for him to slip inside, and walked to work. Hoping for a busy day to help with distraction making it go quick until you can see Abel again.
It for sure started off with a bang, like someone had fired a starter gun. Table after table, coffee turning into soda signifying the change from breakfast into lunch. Answering the phone of what you thought was going to be a to go order. was actually a phone call from your son's school. He had forgot his lunch. Thinking about how you had locked the door after asking, but then realizing his lunch box was on the counter still at home. Sighing, feeling further rushed, your boss Kate, could tell something was off and you explained what had happened.
"Well take him lunch," she said matter-of-factly like she couldn't understand why you were so stressed about it. "I got your tables for now." You were quick about it, asking your line cook for a cheeseburger and fry explaining the situation. Thankfully just pulling one he had just started for a customer and giving it you, you rushed out the front door.
Sudden surprise struck you, as you turned the corner and collided with a regular patron with your shoulder.
"Oh!" you said turning to look at the man with gentle blue eyes and brown mutton chops. "Sorry John." He would come in periodically, sometimes almost every day for 2 weeks and then would up and disappear for a month. Figuring it was military related, you always tried to be nice to him as he always left a generous tip.
"Careful love," he grumbled a name he said to you often ,"where you off to?"
"Abel forgot his lunch," you said showing him the bag, before starting to walk again.
"Silly boy," he said watching you walk away, hand resting on the door handle of the building. You grinned before sprinting off again in the direction of his school.
Finding him in the lunch room, you dropped he bag off in front of him.
"Sorry momma," he said at your winded state.
"Its fine, we just gotta clear out your lunchbox when we get home." Kissing the top of his head and quickly ruffling his hair. "Love you, see you later." Waving as you left heading back to work- this time at a stiff walking pace, too winded from running prior.
Back at the restaurant, the lunch rush starting to slow down as you approached Kate behind the counter, tying your apron back on again. "Thank you," you said whispering to her.
"It's fine," with a warm smile, her eyes peering up at you from the counter. "Your regular is still here."
Rolling your eyes, you gave her the same grin you had shown John earlier. "Not my regular. Maybe he is your regular."
"He didn't use to come every day like he does until you started."
"He doesn't come everyday."
"You know what I mean," she chirped back. "And he only ever tips you like that." Shaking your head, you started bussing tables, wiping down, and restocking preparing for the dinner rush.
In the mean time of waiting, you tried to make small talk with John.
"Want cherry pie? Fresh one was made this morning."
"Sure," he said sliding his coffee forward for a refill. Filling it, and turning to the kitchen to grab the slice of pie.
"Cherry pie?? That's your way of flirting?" Kate asked leaning against a kitchen counter, the cook giving a small snort and smile listening to your banter.
"Fuck off, I'm making you profit." causing her to cackle loudly.
Pie on the plate, you slipped through the saloon style doors and back into the dining room.
"Told a funny joke 'aye?" he asked.
Staring blankly, for a second you realized he heard Kate cackling. "Oh! That, no, just bullshitting with Kate."
The feeling of nervousness returning seeing his eyes peer up at you locking with yours before cutting into his pie, watching him poke some into his mouth on his fork. There must be a God however, because a table walking in is what broke your gridlock with him, grabbing your pad and paper. Ready to get back to work.
The entire dinner shift was a blur. John still there at the counter moving to a more private booth with 3 other men. Like he had been waiting for a meeting.
In the mode, your nervousness and anxiety left you, taking the order and trying to offer the best service you can. The mode finally being broke when 2 little arms snuck around your waist and hugged you from behind.
"Momma!" he yelled into the back of your apron. Kneeling down and turning around you hugged him around his shoulders. "Hey love bug."
"I missed you!! but..." and you could tell the next part he did not want to say.
"What's the matter..." You asked lowly and quietly.
"Dad's outside, he wants to talk to you." Your eyes leering up, seeing him outside leaning against his car, arms crossed.
"Ok, go tell Kate to give you some pie." You said ushering her to his direction. Eyes connected with Kate's speaking with a face that told her you were going outside as you untied your apron and placed it back behind the counter. She leaned to the side to see who it was you were meeting and once she did, the eye roll she gave back to you from the burning hatred she has for him.
Taking a deep breath in, closing your eyes to focus.
That's what you told yourself. Breath. Breathe. Abel, breathe for Abel. Little did you know, the booth all the way in the back, 4 pairs of eyes watching you. John's sending a glare in the direction, like he knew what was happening and the distress you were under.
The air outside humid from the impending summer that was approaching. The night sky starting to turn dark and street lights coming on. You refused to acknowledge him, instead standing in front of him with your arms crossed.
"You wanted to talk to me?"
"Our son told me you forgot to send him with lunch today."
"I did- but then I ran some to him." You said defensively knowing all to well your son did not say it in a manner to throw you under the bus.
"If its that hard for you to make sure he has what he needs, you should come back so I can do that for you both."
"No. You know that's never going to happen." Tone almost feral, tired of being beat with the idea.
"Fine," he huffed out almost nonchalantly, "Then here is this." He said presenting a packet of documents rather aggressively.
Looking on the front page, you saw it was a petition from him filling for full custody. He was trying to take Abel from you.
"Are you fucking kidding me??" Your tone hot.
"Don't think I won't win it. A mother working at a restaurant as her main source of income?? Unable to make sure he has lunch at school. Who knows what else you are failing at," his tone smug like he had full custody already. "Cat in the bag, Abel will be with me. And you can either join, or be miserable. Your choice." He said leaning down over you, laughing at your slack jaw look at him.
"You can't take him from me, I'm his mother."
"I'm his father with a full time job, money saved. I will do as a please. As I always do." He said darkly, hissing into your ear referring what had happened in the past.
Realizing how close he was, the reek of his pride burning your nose and eyes caused you to shove him back from you. He laughed, finding your attempt weak, seeing he got under your skin.
The scene could be seen from inside the restaurant, thankfully it was almost empty, John's table being the last one. Abel had his back turned from it and Kate stood inside distracting him from what was going on outside. Everyone couldn't help but notice John standing up however, long strides in his gait trying to get to you quickly. The other 3 with him standing up and following.
To your ex's mercy, he got into his car, still laughing before the group got outside the doors.
John continued outside, the other 3 standing inside, lax now. Hot tears stung your eyes and you did not want to present yourself to Abel yet.
"Love," John said quietly approaching you.
Turning to look at him over your shoulder, you quickly wiped your eyes, trying to look normal not wanting to bleed on him emotionally, but it didn't work.
"Love, what happened?" he asked approaching finally seeing your state. Unable to answer him, you hand him the packet of papers. Looking down on them he could see the intent behind it.
"I can't afford a lawyer," you choked to him. An arm coming around your shoulders pulling you into him. You never realized he smelled of pine and tobacco until now.
He let you sob into him. Heavy cries you tried to smother into his chest. John took in a large breath before finally uttering, "Marry me."
"What?" you asked thinking you misheard him.
"Marry me," he repeated, firmer this time.
You looked up at him wild look in your eyes. "Marry you??" you repeated.
"I'm British military. My benefits would be your benefits. Meaning you would have a lawyer." Your eyes bounced back and forth between the glaciers above you. Uncertainty filling you... but a spark of hope igniting. Had your conundrum really been solved this easily? You would do anything for your son.
Finally finding your voice, you muttered an "Ok." to him.
Strong arms wrapped back around you, pulling you into his chest and resting his head on top of yours. The shock of everything that had just happened, all you could do was lean into it. Breathing him in. A Breath in, Breath out.
"What jus' happened?" The one with the mohawk asked, leaning over to the one in the blue hat still watching through the windows. The blue hat answered "I think Cap'n is gettin' married."
Next
Dark Horse Masterlist
Captain John Price Masterlist
Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist
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hermajestyimher · 2 months ago
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Iron sharpens iron. God made me exceptional for a reason, and it’s because of this calling on my life that I may go through very tough trials and tribulations, because it is in those moments of hardship that God is able to sharpen my character, strengthen my faith in him and increase my trust for the fulfilment of his promises in my life. No great figure that has ever left an impactful mark in this world had an easy path to realization, and that is by design.
If I had chosen an easier life path, one of complacency, mediocrity, and conformity, then the tribulations would be less, but so would be the blessings and greatness stored for me.
I know that through life’s hardships I’m never alone and that the light at the end of the tunnel always makes up for the moments of darkness, tenfold. Like a diamond that is only comes to existence after applying extreme amounts of pressure, I am a better creation because of the pressure that has perfected me.
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happy74827 · 7 months ago
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The Lesson of Reality
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[Rick Grimes and Child!Reader]
Synopsis: You accidentally get a lot more “experience” than what Rick had planned.
WC: 3080
Category: Slight Angst, S6!Rick (no TOWL spoilers) {TW — Gore, Violence, Walkers, Blood, Death}
There’s so many fics about Daryl being a father figure that it’s about time that Rick had his Joel Miller moment (especially now that all the episodes of The Ones Who Live have aired). So have fun with this cute Protective!Rick moment.
『••✎••』
They say when times are tough, people can rise to the occasion and show their true colors. For some, it's an opportunity to prove they can survive the hardships and come out the other side stronger, wiser, and more experienced. Then there is the scum of the earth. They will take any opportunity to steal, kill, and hurt others while they try and make it out unscathed.
For Rick, he wanted you to be part of the former. He always saw your potential to become a fighter—a survivor. Hell, you made it this long by yourself, after all. You had to learn and adapt to the world.
And given your age, it was a hard thing to accomplish.
Your innocence didn't help, either. On one hand, he wanted to keep you as innocent and childlike as possible for as long as he could. The world was already a shit-show. The least you could do was still have the mentality of the child you were supposed to be. Being only ten years old, it was the right thing to do.
But then he remembers what the world was like now. If he let you live with that naivety, it'd get you killed. And it didn’t matter how intelligent you were because even if it saved your ass a few times, it won’t forever.
The fact of the matter is you were going to be hurt no matter what. And you had to be prepared for it.
He had already shown his own son, Carl, the harshness of the new world. He didn't want to do it, but the world left him no choice. And he couldn't deny the boy the means to defend himself and his family.
And even if you weren’t his kid, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do the same for you.
He just needed the right time to teach you… to remind you that Alexandria isn’t the safest place on the planet.
The perfect time came when the Wolves attacked the group, and the gates were broken down.
After all the tragedy and loss, and Alexandria started to rebuild and strengthen their walls once again, Rick decided then was the time to toughen you up.
And thus, there you were, sitting on a tree stump as Rick stood in front of you, knife in hand, and Daryl beside him.
Eugene was also there, but he was standing to the side, watching with mild curiosity.
“You sure ‘bout this?” Daryl asked, looking from you to Rick, brows furrowed in concern. “It’s good takin' 'em outside the walls, but now? After everything that just happened, I mean? The people need yah right now, man. And the last thing we need is for the lil' squirt here to get hurt, too. Yer already lookin' rough as it is."
"I'll be fine, Daryl," Rick replied, his eyes not leaving yours. “Besides, I won’t be gone long. It’s just a quick look around. In and out, and then I'll be back. Two days, tops.”
Everyone around you seemed to be on edge, with the attack on the walls still fresh in their minds. But you?
Well, you were too busy staring at the shiny, shiny knife. Excitement shone in your eyes as your fingers twitched.
Truth be told, ever since Daryl and Aaron found you alone, wandering the woods and eating raw squirrel, and brought you to Alexandria, you felt as if something was missing.
You had never been the most social kid. You had the bare minimum amount of friends at school. None of them stuck around after you were pulled out of school. You had no close relatives that wanted you around. No father figure and the only motherly presence in your life was gone before you understood the new reality.
And while there were other kids in Alexandria, the older ones were already too busy trying to act like adults, and the younger ones were too immature. Sam, the kid that had once been closest to your age, was just a crybaby who didn’t know any better. He was scared of the dark and the idea of a walker. He never went outside the walls, so it was no wonder.
It was like living in a house full of strangers. They were all kind to you, but there was something missing.
But the Grimes family? Well, you couldn't help but feel more comfortable around them. Carl didn’t seem to like you, at least not at first, but ever since the “Wolves” attack and sudden loss of his eye, he was becoming nicer.
And then there was Rick. He was always kind, but after the incident, he became even kinder. More attentive and caring. Always checking on you, making sure you were safe and comfortable. Something about that night must've really changed him because he's been different since then.
And you liked it. You felt more comfortable around him. You didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because he had saved you from a walker, or perhaps it was the way he talked to you, but you enjoyed his company.
You also loved destroying him in Gin Rummy. With the mix of his shocked expression and Michonne’s laughter, it was priceless.
Rick looked back at Daryl, who was still giving him a doubtful expression. But it wasn’t a no. So, Rick took it as a sign of agreement.
Daryl huffed and put a hand on his hip, shifting his weight to his right side. "Alright, alright. But if somethin' goes wrong, I won’t hesitate to tell ya I told ya so, yah hear me?”
Rick snorted. "Wouldn’t expect any less from you."
Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head, a smirk on his lips. He gave you one more glance, and then he turned and left.
With that out of the way, Rick focused on the task at hand. That’s when Eugene made his presence known. He was the man with the map, so to speak.
He came over and laid the map of the area on the ground in front of you.
"I've marked the areas of the woods I believe would be best suited for your scavenging mission. However, should your route take a turn, there are several alternate routes to get back. There are also a few marked areas with potential food sources, water, and the possibility of tools or other survival necessities.
"Thank you, Eugene. I appreciate this," Rick said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. Eugene smiled and nodded.
"You're welcome, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, Rosita and I have an appointment at the gate to inspect and repair the damaged panels.” Eugene stood up and straightened his clothes, and then he was gone, heading back to the gate.
"Ready?" Rick asked. You looked up at him, smiling, and gave a nod. Soon, you were off into the rusty car that Daryl had brought from outside the walls.
You sat in the back seat, along with the bags semi-full of supplies and some extra weapons. Most of them belonged to Rick, however, so all you had was your old baseball cap.
And, of course, the old switchblade that Daryl gave you a while back.
For most of the scavenge trip, it was peaceful. The occasional walker showed up here and there, but for the most part, they were few and far between.
You found a lot of supplies. Food, medicine, clothes, and anything else you could think of. Rick also made sure to teach you how to pick locks, avoid traps, and a bunch of other skills.
But, of course, as things go, something has to go wrong.
A group of walkers, about twenty or so, showed up. It was no big deal. It was a lot, but nothing you couldn't handle.
You and Rick quickly got to work, taking them out one by one. You had gotten good with your knife, and with some pointers from Rick, you were practically a pro.
And then there was Rick, swinging his machete, stabbing and slashing his way through the herd. His face was a mix of focus and calm. It was impressive.
But the problem wasn’t the walkers. You were both doing fine. The problem was the aftermath. When the last walker fell to your feet, a gun rose and pointed at Rick's head.
And the guy holding the gun? Well, he looked like a psychopath. He had a smile that sent shivers down your spine, and it didn't help that the sun was starting to set.
"Hey there. Nice work taking out those rotters. But I'm going to have to ask you to hand over the bags and all the weapons you have. Oh, and I love that baseball cap. That'll be mine, too."
Well, Rick wanted you to toughen up. It seemed the universe had the same idea.
Somehow, you ended up behind Rick, shielded from the man and his gun. Your heart was pounding in your ears as the adrenaline kicked in. You didn't know what to do.
Rick didn't, either. Not when a group of armed men stepped out of the trees and aimed their guns at him. He didn't even have the time to reach for his machete.
Rick raised his hands, but his body was tense.
"Don't," was the only thing he said. His voice was stern, a growl hidden underneath. The man grinned and laughed.
"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you," the man sneered.
Suddenly, all of them charged forward, grabbing the two of you. Your cap was taken, and Rick's machete was tossed away.
Despite the stronghold, Rick was able to kick and punch his way through his attackers. Even with the gun being pointed at him and the man pulling the trigger, he still managed to dodge the bullet and throw a few more punches.
The man growled, but the smile didn't leave his face.
"Feisty, aren't you? I love a challenge."
With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the butt of the gun against Rick's temple, sending him to the ground.
"Rick!" You yelled but were cut off when someone grabbed you by the hair and pulled, eliciting a scream from you.
"What a cutie," the man purred, grabbing you by the chin. You tried to pull away, but he held tight.
"How old are you, huh? Six? Seven? Eh, it doesn't matter. All kids are the same. Little shits who don't know their place."
You took that as a sign. You spat in his face. He didn't even flinch. In fact, the smile only widened. It pissed you off so much that you did the one thing that would definitely take a smile off his face.
You saw it done once, with a foot. A woman back in Alexandria seemed upset with a man, and she took her boot and kicked him right where you aimed your switchblade.
You weren't sure if it was a good idea, but it was the only thing you could think of.
So you did. And let me tell you, that was one of the few times you had ever heard someone scream so loud. He dropped you in an instant, unfortunately taking the knife with him.
“Son of a-!! You little-!!” Pain and anger laced the man's words as he clutched himself. You scrambled back, watching with wide eyes as he slowly recovered.
He didn’t dare try to crawl over to you, though. He didn’t trust his body to move.
Instead, he turned his attention to his side, where his small pistol had been tossed. He reached over and picked it up, pointing the barrel in your direction.
“I was gonna be nice… maybe have a little fun, but now?” He let out a painful chuckle. The smile was still there, but it was laced with anger. He groaned in pain, and his body shook.
Still, his hands remained steady.
"You little shit. I outta blow your head off. Let the rotters tear you apart, limb from limb. Would serve you right.”
Rick's heart stopped at that. The gun was aimed at you, and he was too far away. Even if he charged, he wouldn't make it in time.
There was no other option.
Just as the man squinted his eyes, about to pull the trigger, the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. It made the man jump and look around, right in time to see one of his men fall to the ground.
"What the-?"
You turned and saw Rick tussling with another man, the one holding a gun, who was fighting for control.
The man who had his gun pointed at you took the opportunity to shoot it again, but you were prepared enough to duck out of the way.
The bullet went into a tree, and by the time the next one fired, he was the last one standing.
And boy, was he pissed. The bullet once again missed his target, but only barely.
That was enough, though. Just enough to get Rick to kick the gun out of his hands before pressing his boot right where your pocket knife was still sticking out.
Rick had the advantage, and it was obvious, with the screams of agony coming from the man. He was on his knees, clutching his crotch, and Rick had a firm hand on the back of his head, ready to bash his skull into the ground if need be.
But he didn't. He had other plans.
He pulled out your knife, only to stick it right back into place and then some.
"Ah! You crazy bas-!! Fuck!!"
"You’re going to listen to me. Real good, you’ hear?” Rick’s voice was dark, and the man nodded frantically.
"Grab his gun and come over here."
You did as you were told, picking up the pistol and slowly walking over. The man whimpered, tears staining his cheeks as blood seeped through his pants.
"You're gonna stand there and keep your gun pointed at his head while I tie his hands together. If he even twitches, shoot him."
You gulped but nodded. You kept your arms out, hands as steady as you could make them.
“You sick, twisted, fuckin' asshole. I'll fucking kill you!" The man snarled, his teeth gritting and his face contorted in pain.
"That's cute," Rick said. He was quick to tie the man's wrists together. Rick was just as quick to grab him and force him on his feet before kicking the back of his knees and sending him sprawling on the ground.
"Stay," Rick commanded him like a dog, and you couldn't help but smile a little at the man's pained, angry expression.
Rick quickly gathered the supplies and the bag, and then he was over to you, giving you a once-over.
"You hurt? Bleeding? Anything broken?"
"N-No, I'm okay," you replied, voice wavering a bit.
"Good," he breathed out, and you noticed he was shaking a bit, too. Not enough to notice at first glance, but enough to know that he was trying his hardest not to.
He took the gun from your hands gingerly, and then he was kneeling before the man.
"Who are you?"
The man was silent. Rick didn't wait long before aiming the gun at the man's right thigh.
"Let me rephrase that. Who are you? What's your name?"
"Fuck y—”
Rick shot the man in the thigh without any hesitation. The scream of pain made you jump.
"Try again. Who are you?"
"Aah!! Fuck!! I-I'm Dave, okay? My name's Dave!"
"Okay, Dave. Good. Now, why did you attack us? And don't think I'm above shooting you again, or worse, so be honest. I can tell when someone's lying to me."
"We were just passing through! Saw you and thought, 'Hey, easy pickings!' Didn't expect you to be the goddamn terminator!"
"Passing through to where?"
Silence. Rick sighed and shook his head, but before he could fire another shot, Dave finally caved.
"Back to c-camp. Please, we have family. Wives, children… We meant nothin' by it! We swear! We just-! We were hungry. We were starving! Please, have mercy!"
"Children? Like the one you just threatened to shoot in the head?" Rick growled. Dave flinched.
"N-no, I-"
“Where are they? Down that stream? I saw your tracks earlier. That was you, wasn’t it?"
Dave's silence spoke volumes. Rick looked back at you, and you were staring at the man, wide-eyed and fearful, not of him specifically, but of what Rick could do to him.
Rick took a deep breath and then turned back to Dave.
"How many are there?"
"T-Ten. Maybe eleven."
"Are they armed?"
"J-Just with knives and stuff."
"You got anything else? Any other guns or ammo?"
"N-No. Please, just let us go! We won't bother you again! Just don't hurt me."
Rick looked back at you again. Your eyes were still locked on the man, but you could feel his gaze. You looked up at him.
"With that stunt, you just pulled,” Rick stood up, his eyes still aligned with yours, but he wasn’t speaking to you. He was addressing Dave.
"I can’t take that chance.”
Then the bullet fired, and soon it was just you and Rick with a bunch of corpses.
He quickly holstered the gun and rushed to bags left on the ground.
"What about his family?” Your voice was shaken. You had never seen someone shot like that, point blank.
Rick sighed, pausing in his movements.
"They don’t exist.” Rick stood and turned, looking you in the eye. “I know people like him. If he had a family, they're already dead, or he killed them himself.”
You didn’t break eye contact, “and if you’re wrong? What then?"
Rick didn’t even blink. "Then I saved them a lot of suffering."
Rick didn't like doing this, killing people, taking life. He hated it, really.
But he would be damned if anyone ever laid a hand on his family or his people. Even if it meant getting a little bloody.
You had to turn away from him, from the intensity of his stare.
Rick sighed and walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"You did good back there. Really good. The world it’s… It ain't kind to people. And even though I hope it never happens, you have to be prepared for anything. For anyone."
Rick squeezed your shoulder, and his voice was gentle.
"And, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."
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babyleostuff · 11 months ago
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BOBPUL ENCOUNTERS A SNOWMAN | KIM MINGYU
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“Look at the two of you,” you giggled, as Mingyu picked up your fluff ball dressed in a black puffer jacket, matching with her dad. “You’re adorable,” you cooed, scratching Bobpul behind her ears, as she wiggled impatiently in Mingyu's grip, earning a laugh from your boyfriend. 
“Me or Bobpul?” He questioned, tucking your hair behind your ear, as you leaned closer to the dog. “Both of you. My babies are the cutest,” you scrunched your nose at Bobpul, who looked like she was having the time of her life. Her tail was wagging against Mingyu's arm and you couldn't wait until you let her run in the snow where she would go crazy with happiness. 
“I have a feeling she likes you more than me,” he said, nuzzling his nose into her white fur, making Bobpul squirm even more. “You little traitor,” he whispered, before setting her on the ground, and grabbing her leash from the shelf. 
Honestly, it was fucking unfair how handsome your boyfriend looked, even with his face mostly covered by his black bucket hat. As much as you loved him dressed up in suits and all of those amazing stage outfits, this version of him had to be your favorite - it wasn’t idol Mingyu who was standing in front of you, but your Gyu, and it made him so much more perfect. 
“Stop staring at me,” Mingyu mumbled shyly, fixing Bobpul’s collar. 
“I wasn’t looking at you, I was looking at my little princess,” you smiled at your dog, who looked like she didn’t have any other thought than snow snow snow in her head. Mingyu chuckled, knowing you were lying - after all this time together, you were like an open book to him. “Sure, baby.” 
Something about this scene was so oddly domestic - you getting ready to go on a walk with your dog, Mingyu and Bobpul wearing matching jackets, you bundled up in one of your boyfriend’s hoodies and his coat that was way too big for you - it all felt like one of Mingyu’s hugs in the morning when neither of you wanted to leave the bed. 
“You guys are like my little Christmas miracle, you know?” You smiled, pulling a beanie over your boyfriend’s head. 
“Oh, baby,” he pouted, looking at you from where he was kneeling by Bobpul. It was moments like these that reminded you why you endured all the hardships of dating an idol - nothing could beat the tenderness with which Mingyu looked at you.
“I love you. So much,” he said and stood up, pulling you into his arms - into your safe place that felt like a blanket and a cup of tea on a cold winter morning, into the one place you could stay forever in. 
“Love you too, Gyu,” you mumbled, placing a kiss on his jaw, as he pressed his lips against your forehead. 
Immersed in your own bubble of love, you didn't notice how Bobpul impatiently paced back and forth until she finally decided to make her presence known, letting out a loud woof, woof. 
“Yeah, you’re right baby. Let’s go,” you laughed at her, grabbing Mingyu’s hand in yours, just as he managed to sneak in one last kiss on your lips with a loud muah. You snickered, gently smacking him in the ribs with your intertwined hands. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” 
The second you stepped outside, Mingyu pulled out his camera taking a few pictures of you and Bobpul. Of course he did - he was a family man through and through, and he loved taking photos of his family, including you. It always made you blush whenever you visited his mom and dad, and some of your framed photos stood in the living as if you were a part of the Kim family. 
“Put that thing away, and let’s make a snowman,” you clapped your mittenclad hands, smiling at Mingyu.  
You spent the next few hours building snowman, with occasional breaks for snowball fights and rolling in the snow (Mingyu fell while carrying you and you landed on the ground together), along with Bobpul, who was running happily around you, barking and snorting as the snow got to her to the nose.
“Please, Gyu. Don’t drop it,” you shot your boyfriend a worried look, as he picked up the last part of your snowman - it’s head, because knowing Mingyu, nothing was safe in his hands - especially not a big ball of snow. 
Fortunately, he managed to put everything together, and all parts of the snowman were safely in their places. “Too bad we don't have any carrots,” you sighed, looking at what looked more like three snowballs lying on top of each other than a snowman. "It's good that you have a boyfriend like me, then," he laughed and took out a carrot from his pocket, along with some small stones that you could use to make mouths and eyes.
“Oh my God, I have the best boyfriend ever,” you gasped dramatically, cradling his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks together. “The most thoughtful, strong, smart, handsome, dashing, adorable, funny-,” 
“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m amazing,” Mingyu rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t annoyed in the slightest.
“Mhm, you are,” you whispered, pulling his head down, and pecking his lips. “Ugh, put on a lip balm or something. Your lips are chapped like they haven’t seen vaseline in a year.” 
“You little,” Mingyu bent down and collected snow in his hands, ready to throw it all at you, as if you weren’t already covered by it from head to toe.   
Luckily, your little girl came to your aid, without even realizing it. "Bobpul? What happened, why are you barking like that?" Mingyu, surprised, turned to the dog and let out all the snow he was holding in his hands. The momentary worry that something had happened to your dog quickly turned to amusement as you burst out laughing when you saw Bobpul standing in front of your snowman and barking at him like crazy.
Mingyu looked like he was about to cry with laughter, and it made everything so much funnier. “Baby, it’s just a snowman,” you mused, picking up your pup and petting her to calm her down. “Nothing to bark at, hm. You scared me for a second there,” you murmured, bumping your nose with hers. 
Focusing on Bobpul, you didn't notice when Mingyu pulled out his camera again, only a quiet click brought your attention back to him. "I had to, you look so cute together," he smiled, his cheeks flushed pink. “My girls,” he said, putting one of his hands on Bobpul’s head and cradling your face with the other. 
You wondered if the next time you visited his parents you’d find this photo standing on a shelf in the living room.
because I couldn't find out if bobpul is a boy or a girl, I refer to her/him as a girl
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @f4iryjjosh @isabellah29 @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @chillseo @bangantokchy @hrts4hanniehae @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng
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berryyuni · 4 months ago
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jungwon as your boyfriend headcanons
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pairing - bf!jungwon x gn!reader genre - est. relationship, fluff wc - 590 warnings - skinship, crying
౨ৎ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3 ✧˖° ... (library)
⊹ ࣪ ˖ jungwon | heeseung | jay | jake | sunghoon | sunoo | ni-ki
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jungwon would be the softest boyfriend to ever exist.
he loves loves loves being affectionate with you. if anything, it's one of the things he looks forward to the most during the day.
he's an absolute sucker for head pats/rubs, giving and receiving. as subtle as he tries to be about it, his reactions give it away.
as much as he loves your affection, he'll always get flustered and can't control the blush that forms on his cheeks especially if you're with the boys.
cuteness aggression. you and him get it all the time. you're just whipped for each other.
jungwon is attached at your hip. where you go, he goes. you disappear for a moment? he's already on his feet searching for you.
jungwon needs to hear your voice every night before he goes to bed. if he's away, expect a facetime call to which you end up falling asleep together.
jungwon will take a few seconds out of his life to text you anything that happens to him throughout the day whether it's something silly or serious. he'd also pop in and tell you every time he sees something that reminds him of you - he'd even sometimes buy you something just because it made him think of you.
jungwon has a time specifically for you and him to talk about your day and catch up on anything you missed. he takes this very very seriously.
jungwon is a very good and attentive listener. his focus is all on you, taking in everything you're saying and observing your expressions. with him being so observant, he knows all about your interests, mannerisms, all the little things.
he always lends you a shoulder to cry on. he's your rock. he keeps you grounded. he wants to be the one you go to when you're going through a hard time.
when you cry he kisses your tears away and stays quiet until you're ready to talk.
jungwon never lets a conflict go unresolved - whether it'd be something between you or something happening to the individual. it pains him knowing that you're upset so he does everything in his power to fix everything.
jungwon thinks everything about you is perfect.
he loves your smile and laughter. after a long stressful day your smile and/or laughter never fails to bring a smile to his face. you're his sun.
he is always messing with you somehow. he'd poke at you, tease you, and play pranks on you. there's never a day where you can live in peace but you don't complain.
jungwon always always always looks at you with a fond expression. you're the only one that can bring out this expression from him. it's very evident to others how in love he is with you.
he's not always the best with words so he makes sure to show you how much he loves you by taking care of you along with other actions.
jungwon slowly lets down his walls the longer you're together. in the beginning of the relationship, he was more reserved because he got too used to having to hold in his hardships and handling everything on his own. but as you got closer he realized that he can trust you and that you'll always be there for him. now you're one of the only people he lets his guard down with.
jungwon enjoys the quiet but not secret dating life. he likes having the privacy of your relationship but will make it obvious that he's all in for you.
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©berryyuni 2024. all work is written by me. do not copy, translate or repost
taglist (open): @j4keluver @j-jinxee @suneng @ikeuzsn @miniature-tragedy
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louisupdates · 2 months ago
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With the first quarter of the 21st century coming to an end, Billboard has been looking back on the 25 Greatest Pop Stars of the Past 25 Years. Below, we take a deeper look into the solo career of Louis Tomlinson — one of the members of our No. 22 pop stars, One Direction — and how his songwriting, originally honed in 1D, has helped him develop into one of the group’s strongest breakout artists.
When One Direction officially went on hiatus in 2015, Zayn Malik dropped Mind of Mine in 2016, Harry Styles’ eponymous LP dropped in 2017, Niall Horan followed with Flicker later that year and Liam Payne’s First Time EP arrived in 2018. Louis Tomlinson, however, took his time with releasing a full project – and entered an era of healing and self-discovery that saw him realizing his potential as one of 1D’s most self-actualized artists, even if not necessarily the starriest.
Even before going solo, Tomlinson showed he was meant for breakthrough success while in One Direction. Longtime Directioners know that Tomlinson wrote more songs in One Direction than any other member, penning long standing hits including “Perfect,” “History” and “Fool’s Gold” and proving his fortitude as a songwriter who understands lyrical cleverness and crafting the indescribably catchy refrains necessary to produce arena-ready hits. Beyond his musical abilities, Tomlinson’s sense of humor and friendship with fellow 1D members also ensured fans had a soft spot for him.
However, when he did go solo, the road was slippery at first. He teamed up with Steve Aoki for his first solo release “Just Hold On” in December 2016, and just three days before its release, Tomlinson’s mother died of leukemia. He still took the stage to perform the song on The X Factor, the first public testament to the star’s strength and dedication to his musical craft.
Tomlinson’s resilience amid adversity continued as he navigated the music industry. The star signed with Epic Records in 2017 and released a few singles – including “Miss You” and the Bebe Rexha and Digital Farm Animals-assisted “Back to You.” While the infectious hooks to both tracks could have easily solidified Tomlinson as a pop mainstay, the two singles didn’t perform as well as expected on the charts: “Just Hold On” peaked at No. 52 on the Billboard Hot 100 and “Back to You” hit No. 40, while “Miss You” missed the chart altogether. Ultimately, a full-length album never materialized with Epic Records.
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Tomlinson shortly got back on his feet, as he always does, and signed with Arista Records in 2019 – where he honed his talent as a songwriter, this time feeling comfortable enough to tackle more vulnerable topics in his music. His first release under the label was “Two of Us,” a heart-wrenching tribute to his late mother. “I know you’ll be looking down/ Swear I’m gonna make you proud/ I’ll be living one life for the two of us,” he sings in the chorus, giving a glimpse into what would soon become a musical career full of honesty and vulnerability.
Unfortunately, shortly after its release, another hardship struck Tomlinson’s life when his 18-year-old sister Fizzy died of an accidental overdose. Both the release of “Two of Us” and the tragedy that followed showed just how close Tomlinson’s community of fans is, as they showered him with online love and support in the months that followed.
After taking some much-deserved time to heal, he announced in August of that year that his debut solo album was on its way – and shortly after, he released a follow-up single, the rock-leaning, drumline-driven “Kill My Mind.” Tomlinson admitted that he finally found his stride. “I’m actually really proud and relieved to finally find my place, find my lane musically,” he told Hits Radio Breakfast at the time, indicating a moment of relief amid his turbulent few years.
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Tomlinson’s debut solo album, Walls, arrived in January 2020 and while it hit the Billboard 200‘s top 10, it was met with mixed reviews from critics, who suggested that the heart he wanted to portray wasn’t quite there. His growth outside of commercial success proved otherwise, as he had been spending the past few years building a solid identity not only as an artist, but also as a person. While some of the other One Direction alums are still finding their footing with their solo sounds to this day, Tomlinson grew strongly into an instrumentation-focused pop-rock artist whose lyrics go beyond the cookie cutter sentiments you might expect from a former boy band member.
And soon, all the hard work – both personally and musically – finally paid off. Faith in the Future, his 2022 sophomore solo album, debuted at No. 1 on the Official U.K. Albums Chart. In the United States, Faith In The Future debuted at No. 2 on Billboard’s Top Album Sales chart, and at No. 5 on the all-genre Billboard 200, his highest-charting set yet on both tallies. The album’s success, as well his sold-out live shows on its accompanying tour, not only showed the still-standing Directioner devotion to Tomlinson, but also made it clear that he picked up a slew of new fans along the way.
Tomlinson’s self-awareness was evident on the album’s lead single, “Bigger Than Me.” “When somebody told me I would change/ I was afraid, I don’t know why/ ‘Cause so does the world outside, I’ve realized/ It’s bigger than me,” he sings – indicating that the key for solo success all along was being himself, and letting go of the pressure that fame brings.
While Tomlinson has still yet to score the major chart hits stateside that his 1D bandmates essentially achieved right away – and has been more focused on his 28 clothing line the past couple years – he’s proven that he doesn’t need traditional pop crossover success to have a bright future ahead of him. With another couple albums and tours that continue to establish his identity and expand his artistry, it wouldn’t be shocking to see him making the jump to arenas in the not-distant future. Louis’ solo career may not have gotten off to the perfect start, but it just might end up being perfect for him in the long-term anyway.
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amnayel · 4 months ago
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something really interesting about book 7 is that there seems to be a lesson about true happiness being passed here
i love when i consume media because it seemed cool only to be hit with a message at the middle of it
theres something we all can agree with after reading book7: malleus concept of happiness is messed up. malleus idea of happiness is a life where everything happens the way you wanted to and there’s no hardships or pain
but let me tell you a little story to explain my point: i’m a person who suffered a lot during my life. one of the things i dreaded the most was that my teenage years where stolen from me. everything i ever wanted was to be a normal girl, study in the afternoons, play games until late at night and go out with my friends once in a while
pretty much everyone i knew lived this life, and they HATED IT. they thought it was boring and wanted more emotion to their lives. but why did i wanted it? because i didn’t have it. i only appreciated the simple life most people had because i was suffering so much from a young age, if i had never been denied this simplicity i wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate it, because i too would’ve taken it for granted
why lilia dream had so much suffering in it? because if he hadn’t suffered to hatch malleus, he would’ve taken that moment for granted. ofc he would still be happy, but not as much. the peace that comes AFTER the hardships is way more blissful than the one BEFORE all the problems began.
you’ll never appreciate what you have if this happiness is never threatened.
thats something the overblotted are realizing one by one. we see that vil and jamil both ended up denying their dream world and even felt shame for them because they don’t want their victory to be handed on a plate. they want to fight for it AND WIN
malleus couldn’t understand why lilia, in a place where he could have ANYTHING and EVERYTHING, still chose to relive the worst moments of his life, loose his loved ones again, see briar kingdom lose the war again, be outcasted by humans again… if he could have everything in this dream world, why he wanted to suffer it all again?
because the pure happiness of seeing malleus being born wouldn’t be same without all of this.
lilia knows this as a older person, the other characters are still young. for me the ob boys dreams being more detailed is not because they have more magic, but because they dreamed of these perfect worlds before, escaping from reality for a moment and going to a place where everything they ever wanted was real
but in the end, the true happiness they wish for will only come after so much suffering, and probably will not be exactly what they wanted, because what you want is not always what will make you happy, what you want is not always something you can have, but no ones suffers forever.
malleus will eventually have to realize this, that lilia has to go, that people will continue to fear him, that he will say way too many goodbyes in his long life…
but that this doesnt means he won’t find happiness at the end of it.
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