#but i do feel myself itching to call it requiem

[dialalagirl]

Oo I love seeing people's DiaLovers fanmade routes and worlds ( I have my own and its so much fun) do share yours with us! ( you don't have to make a whole route or anything I'd just like to hear a quick summary of what you had made or had i mind with your Suburu Route )

IEICBSIBCISBVHBIBSINJZ--I mean, yay *cough* it is so hard to sum up everything and maybe some may consider the plot a bit bland, butttttttttt imma try

I take a lot and your girl do mean A LOT of inspiration from HDB. I abandoned whatever bizarrio nonsense Adam-Eve plots infected all the sequels as well as the whatpadding that neutralized the spice of all the diaboys and even their irredeemable parents. like bruv, lemme sample true depravity in peace 😩

at the heart of it is a simple story of the sacrificial bride, Lilu. in her early years, she was raised in the same religious community as Yui. she shares many of yui's most endearing qualities: empathy/forgiveness to the point of self-sacrifice, exuberance, authenticity, altruistic kindness, and fortitude under great pressure. however, she has both the gift of gab and wit which eventually led her to questioning her church's teachings

when the church’s religious indoctrination proved ineffective for Lilu, they sent her to St. Thea’s Finishing School for Troubled Girls. their punishments do not include physical maiming, as to not tamper with the sacrificial bride’s chance to be accepted by Karlheinz. but rest assured, lilu got traumatized to the point she suffers from an extreme fear of touch and mania episodes, as well as has a conditioned response to be honest in response to pain. indeed, her cheerful attitude--while genuine--can often mask her internal feelings of self-loathing where she considers herself pathetic for her weakness

unlike yui, when arriving at the sakamaki mansion 'supposedly reformed', she knows her purpose: to be food. initially, she is apathetic at the possibility of dying, but--upon finding out yui is also there--recenters herself, devoting whatever few days she believes she has left to save Yui (her own and only friend) who matched herself with shu

so, she saddles herself with subaru, banking on his evidently violent tendencies to protect her from the whims of the other bros. from here, it is a tale of lilu trying to help Yui escape but not herself, as she does not want or feel she deserves happiness. slowly tho, she bonds with subaru and finds a strange sense of belonging in the sakamaki household

being torn between ordinary standards of what it means to live and be free v.s. the unusual circumstances of the sakamaki household, she is ultimately left with a choice:

stay with Yui for a reason other than seeking death's relief and make new beginnings with subaru (vampire ending)

try to escape one too many times, get brutally tortured, and eventually awaken as a vampire who kills everyone in the household in a tragic manic episode (brute ending)

use subaru to exact revenge on those which tortured her younger years as she finds herself unable to move on and forgive her past. while initially this soothes her, she eventually devolves into a state not unlike Christa's and begs Subaru to end her misery. he does and kills himself alongside her (manservant ending)

i can just smell the angst and it makes me happy. it's a problem, really

my most favourite prologue/epilogue (that paragraph thingy before the episode starts) that I wrote?

====================================

My thoughts pace walls, attempting

To scratch away raw stone,

To elope with my worry, 

Or to at least make the small a little less small.

My eyes stare straight into the pendulous sphere.

I haven’t felt the sun in years.

My thoughts temporarily wane in their restlessness

In face of stars that burn my eyes.

I would count them

And shoot them across the rest of my sight,

carrying thoughts to hear

echos of tepid steps

and that I have forgotten time again,

I’m stupid,

She always comes for me.

But, the light flickers off,

It’s dark,

And space is infinite.

My arms stretch out,

defy science.

The coarseness hurts.

My palms are subdued against the walls,

despite how much I want to push.

It feels so small.

I want to scream,

But the light flickers on. 

=============

[cinnaminsvga]

Requiem | Jungkook

→ summary: Jeon Jungkook loves you. You love someone else. He lets you say “I love you” to him, if only so that he gets to hear it once in his life.

→ genre: pretend confession!au, angst

→ words: 2.2K

→ a/n: This was commissioned by the lovely @euphoricguks​!! Thank you so so much for supporting my work, especially during such a stressful time. I hope this is what you wanted!

Jungkook had always thought that the universe would end with a loud bang. He imagined it would be a poetic conclusion; the world would explode with a cacophony of heat and chaos, just like how it had began. It would come unexpectedly, and he was sure he would not see it coming from a mile away. It was better that way, because then he wouldn’t have to feel regret over not foreseeing it.

In hindsight, Jungkook should have known that the end of the world would begin with a soft knock on his hotel room door.

“Who’s there?” He calls out from the bathroom, rubbing moisturizer on the pale purple moons that decorate his eyes. He yawns silently, wondering who could be bothering him at this hour. When the intruder doesn’t answer, he chooses to ignore the following knocks, hoping that the person waiting behind the door would get impatient and leave him be.

It wasn’t like Jungkook was being purposefully rude. It had been a long and tiring day after today’s KCON, and there were still a myriad of interviews left for tomorrow before they left on Saturday. So sue him for being a little prickly just this once; after all, his bed was looking awfully cozy tonight.

He caps the bottle of his moisturizer with a grunt, and he strains his ears over his soft music and grins when he realizes the knocks had finally stopped.

Thank God—

When he turns to close his bathroom door, he sees his phone light up with a notification, pausing his music in the process. He groans, debating on throwing his phone outside his window when he sees the sender’s name from the corner of his eye.

Y/N L/N.

Jungkook stops in his motions, his eyes widening in confusion. He remembers seeing you leave the restaurant earlier than everyone else a while ago. Had something happened? He thumbs his passcode quickly, and his breath catches when he reads the text.

from: Y/N L/N [01:46AM]

hey, jungkook. you weren’t opening the door, so i guess you were busy? anyway… if you aren’t busy, could i talk to you tomorrow? it’s okay if you can’t though… it’s nothing important! :)

Jungkook stares and stares. The soft, cottony sweater he had worn for pajamas suddenly feels like needles across his back. The smiley-face looks back at him tauntingly, whispering its secrets to him.

Whatever was bothering you, it was definitely important. And he had ignored your cry for help so selfishly.

Regrettably, Jungkook had somehow become attuned to your emotions over time. It didn’t matter if it was through text or speech—Jungkook just fucking knew. He knew when you felt sad, angry, exhausted—it was a skill he had developed and perfected with ease.

But he hated it sometimes, because it was moments like these when his heart was going a million miles an hour as he sprints across the quiet hotel hallway, looking for your hotel room that he knew. He knew that the reason his heart felt like it was exploding out of his chest was because he would always do anything for you—

Even if it meant skipping a good night’s sleep for you.

He grinds to a halt when he catches your room number. “321,” you had told him cheekily that morning, knowing that some time during this trip, he was going to sneak away from the managers and visit you anyway.

So, he knocks once, twice. Not a second passes when you open the door, probably not even checking the eyehole to see who it was. You had known he would come.

In hindsight, that should have been the first sign of catastrophe.

“Y/N?” Jungkook says, slightly out of breath. He had ran out of his room so quickly after checking the text that he was pretty sure he had left his keycard in his room. Ah, screw it.

“Oh, you came… Even after I told you it wasn’t important,” you say, your eyes trained on the floor. He notices the slight flush on your neck, and he knows it’s because you are embarrassed.

“Well, the smiley-face gave it away so I know whatever it was, it’s important. You never use smileys, unless you’re being passive-aggressive or sketchy. Either way, you know I would come regardless.” Anything for you.

You smile sheepishly, and you lift your head just high enough that Jungkook catches a glimpse of teary eyes and an anxious crease on your forehead. Before he can comment on it, however, you open the door wider and invite him inside.

“Come in, I don’t want to talk where people can… hear,” you say the last part hastily, and Jungkook’s heart quickens its pace.

The moment the weighted door clicks shut, Jungkook pulls you in for a hug. “Hey, hey,” he hushes you, and it is as if his voice is what finally causes the dam inside of you to break. Your body wracks with disastrous sobs, and Jungkook feels your tears stain his sweater. He squeezes you tighter, as if willing the sadness inside of you to go away.

If only he could transfer that sadness away from you and onto him, then—

“I can’t do it,” you mutter through the sobs, your voice almost indistinct from how pressed your face is against his chest. He pulls you away gently, being careful to wipe some of the stray tears from your cheeks.

“Do what?” He asks, worried. “Did one of your members force you to do something again? You did look a bit down after the concert…”

You shake your head. You let out a laugh, but it sounds more like an angry cough more than anything. He doesn’t miss the way your ears redden before you say, “No, it’s not that…”

“Then what?”

A pause. Then, “I can’t… I can’t confess. I tried to a while ago, but I couldn’t even look at him, Jungkook,” and you sniffle. You shrug your shoulders helplessly. “I’m hopeless.”

Jungkook’s body goes rigid, and he feels his heart drop to his stomach. The rooms suddenly feels small, and he thinks the air is getting sucked out of his lungs.

Oh. He gets it now.

“You… you were really going to do it?” He manages to say, but his voice comes out cracked, unsure.

You shake your head again. “I don’t know,” you push his hands away from you, wrapping your own arms around yourself instead. Jungkook flinches slightly, and his hands sting from where he had been holding you.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I just… I don’t know… I promised myself I was going to do it during dinner, you know? He had asked me if I wanted to go get ice cream after, and I said yes but…” you trail off, and another sob escapes your smaller form. His hands itch to reach for you, but you turn away from him.

“But?” It takes all of Jungkook’s strength to burn the remaining dredges of hope that reside in his heart. Maybe, just maybe, you had chickened out because you realized that someone else loved you more… Someone who just happened to be right in front of you.

He stomps on that thought, hard. Kills it. Burns it.

You let out a frustrated huff. “I don’t know! I just… ran away after saying good night, and now I’m ignoring his calls because I don’t know what to say.” You let out a shaky breath, and turn back to face him. The tears continue to flow, but this time, he doesn’t reach out to wipe them. He doesn’t dare to, lest he let his desires take control of him.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and sighs. “You can’t keep hiding from Jimin-hyung forever,” he says, but his mouth feels like cotton. The words taste bitter, so he spits them out. “He’s going to come crying to me, eventually.”

He doesn’t mean for the words to come out as harshly as they did, so he feels the regret climbing up his throat when he sees your eyes lower, downcast. “I didn’t mean it like it’s your fault…” he tries, but you shrug your shoulders.

No. It’s my fault. I just keep messing things up,” you mumble, and Jungkook feels the love inside himself rise from the ashes, like a phoenix coming back to life. He can’t help it—not when it’s you.

Against his better judgment, he pulls you into a hug again, and this time you don’t push him away. Your shoulders sag the moment his arms find you again, and Jungkook feels that weight transfer onto him. He tries to steel himself before the inevitable drop, he really does, but he doubts anything could have ever prepared him for your next words.

“Hey… Jungkookie?” You lift your head slightly from his hold, and Jungkook’s weak, weak heart shatters when he takes one look into your eyes. They have always been eyes worth killing for, and Jungkook knows whatever it is you were about to ask him, he would do anything to fulfill them.

Even if it meant killing his own heart.

“Yes?”

“Do you think… I could practice on you?”

“Practice? Practice what?”

Your cheeks burn, flushing prettily under the fluorescent light. He wants so desperately to kiss you. “Don’t make me say it again,” you pout.

“I’m afraid I really don’t understand, Y/N. You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.”

You purse your lips slightly, and your gaze shifts to the right. “Can… can I practice confessing? Just so I know what to say?”

Jungkook’s heart stops. His fists tighten around your shirt unknowingly, and you gaze worriedly at him. You cup your smaller hands around his cheeks, but it only makes everything infinitely worse. “Jungkook?”

He releases his hold, slowly but surely. He breathes through his nose, in and out. He closes his eyes, and he wills the tears away. He wishes he could say no, just this once. He wishes he could be selfish; he wishes he could tell you that he could never let you say those words to anyone but him—and only if you truly meant them. But he can’t.

He will not cry; he will not let her see.

He will not let her chances of happiness slip away.

He opens his eyes. “Go for it,” but he chokes on the last word, and forces himself to shoot you a wobbly grin. He doubts it’s convincing, and you send him a weary glance back. He digs his nails into the palms of his hands.

You take a step back, and Jungkook’s body unknowingly tries to follow. You look so shy, so fucking hopeful that Jungkook can’t help but project a little. For one minute in his life, he lets himself pretend that it’s for him. That this beautiful, blushing girl in front of him loves him back, and that the words you are about to utter had always been meant for him. Always.

You take a deep breath, and close your eyes. Jungkook tries, oh how he tries, not to memorize the way your eyelashes fan so prettily on your cheeks and the way your lips part slightly, but he knows. He knows that he has always been a lost cause when it came to you.

You open your eyes.

The phoenix inside of him cries for help.

“Jeon Jungkook, I love you. Will you go out with me?” You smile bashfully, but your cheeks flush happily. You giggle slightly at the end, and you don’t seem to notice the way Jungkook’s body goes rigid when you slap his arm playfully.

“Ah, that was so awkward,” you laugh, tears of mirth forming in the corners of your eyes. Jungkook only nods, unable to reply.

You had said his name instead of Jimin. Why?

“That was so bad,” you groan, plopping yourself on your bed. “Do you think he’ll mind?”

Why do you have to make things harder?

When Jungkook doesn’t reply for a while, you finally look at him, and your eyebrow creases with worry. “Jungkook? You alright?”

At the sound of your concerned voice, Jungkook snaps himself out of his reverie. He turns to the door, ready to sprint out of there. He can’t stay another minute in there; he was suffocating. “Yeah, it was great,” he says hurriedly, hoping that he makes it to the door on time. His eyes are burning. “I’m sure he’ll love it. He never shuts up about you, you know?”

Jungkook never shuts up about you too, did you know?

He barely catches your dreamy sigh. “You think so?”

Jungkook slams the final nail to his coffin. He nods his head stiffly. “Of course. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

He doesn’t stay to hear your response. He turns the door knob, and he waits until he hears the weight door click shut. He doesn’t move another step. He can’t.

The hallway is quiet when he cries, and for that, he is grateful.

When the world finally crashes down around him, no one is there to pick up the pieces. And so, he crumbles.