#rie writes

[riewritten]

Johan Liebert, who doesn't want you to love him, started to do everything he knew you'd hate as soon as he got to know you head to toe. His acquaintanceship with you was specifically designed just for that.

Any being Johan has loved—if he's indeed capable of such an act—always ends up hating his very core, and it is all in accordance with his will. After all, hatred has been proven to be much stronger than love in the grander scheme of things in humanity—or so Johan believes.

When he was a kid, he was more well-versed in navigating hatred than love (not that he had more people to love back then aside from his sister). Love was tiring; he always had to worry about his other half being caught by the monster that chased them. Love was temperamental; his other half erased his existence for good as soon as she knew of his ways (not that he'd ever take it against her, for that was the right call—he doesn't exist). And when he met you, his viewpoint of love was reaffirmed even further. Your previous relationships, romantic or platonic, had all taken a toll on you. Johan has heard plenty of stories about you being disappointed with the people you’ve tried to love. When they weren't able to do this or that. When you sleep at six in the morning, exhausted, because trying to understand their actions in the name of love had kept you up all night. How interesting; oh, how genuinely interesting, Johan had thought.

And it even becomes more interesting that despite all that, you're still someone who seeks love, who seeks to love and be loved. “Why?” he asks. How strange. “I just have a lot of love to give, is that too wrong?” you reply, smiling. And when Johan doesn’t answer, you add, “I’m just waiting for the right people who'd be willing to receive them." “Even if they have demanded a lot of your time? Even if they used you—repeatedly so—only to change their mind on you at the last minute?” he prompts, which then makes you gaze down for a bit. However, Johan doesn’t expect you to lift your head just as quick, with a nod and smile so bright, so contrary of him. “Yeah, even so, I choose to love and be loved.”

And so, amid the very clear stance, Johan still wants you to understand. Your thirst to love and be loved has gained his interest for quite some time now. He saw very well how genuine you were when you told him one night that he's your closest friend now, and you treasure him so much. But the morning after, he's suddenly not the approachable-mister-congeniality type of friend anymore. After showering you with friendly affection and being the best company you've ever had in your life, he now doesn’t acknowledge your presence when you try to make it known. Johan, much as he had never felt emotions so extreme, never thought he'd take pleasure in the way you looked at him, full of yearning and confusion. How pretty you are with glassy eyes, doing everything in your power to not let the tears fall, as people started avoiding you as well not long after he did. 

Don't you worry; he liked being near you, too. But you need to understand where he's coming from. Johan doesn't want you to love him, for love is weaker than hatred. As people say, 'hatred is something you can use, sculpt, or wield.’ Oh, hatred. You've been full of love despite how many times it humiliated you, but hatred will cradle you. It will make you understand his point. The contrasting characters you two have that ultimately keep your distance can finally be mended if you come to understand him.

Months later, your glassy eyes and yearning gaze developed into something more sinister, and Johan couldn't help himself but smile wider. Maybe you finally figured it out. How come all the exes you had told of him started disappearing one by one? How come the friends you'd grown distant to have started contacting you again—begging for their lives and apologizing for wasting your precious and benevolent love—only to be found dead the morning after? How come that with all these incidents, they never fail to mention a certain blonde man whom they call the devil? How come they all cried to you the same begging, "Please tell him to leave me alone," "I will be next!" "Oh god, oh god, he's here. Please, forgive me. I will love you better this time. Just please don't let him kill me!"

And the worst thing of all, because most if not all the victims contacted you before their presumed death, an inspector came knocking at your door one day, asking you to cooperate to avoid consequences.

You poor thing. Johan's sweet mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do. It's already been done. Don't worry. Once you get to understand his point, he will come back to see you again. And by then he'd be able to see how strong you feel for him.

JOIN/LEAVE THE TAG LIST | @imkumichan @s0m4-sh4rk @xeiin-n @itswildoutthere @roketbaby @ellabellapumela @skexxll @melonvrs @nefarra @i88b0nten @eowwy @chxrry-writes @deafeningmusiccandy

inspo:

[blood-mocha-latte]

LET'S CALL THE WHOLE THING OFF || CHAPTER IV || 11K

“Yeah, I think so too. It’s easier to sleep when there’s other things going on, because I can focus on that. I’ve never been good at counting sheep. I’ll count three, and then get distracted, because the sheep are all there, but there’s no shepherd. And that makes me wonder if I’m the shepherd, and if so, why am I counting sheep? I should be shepherding them, not trying to fall asleep.” 

Joe half-laughed, half-exhaled, thoughtful. “I’ve never thought about it like that.” He said. 

“Good.” George told him. “Maybe I’ve ruined sheep-counting for you, too.” 

“I don’t really count sheep.”

“You should ruin it for someone else, then. For me.” 

“I’ll do my best.” 

READ ON AO3

TAGLIST (to be added/removed, let me know in any way you feel comfortable <3)(original taglist post here)

@sachart @lamialamia @merelyafigment @ackackh @mstiemountainhop @findrythehobbit @thehatchette @loislanely @ewipandora @disastrouscanasta @cirr0stratus @swampsock @everexpandingheart

[wingsofbadass]

I channelled an uncomfortable experience into this soft Shadowgast! Yeets it into the aether and runs!

[riewritten]

CRYING. CYING CRYINNGSNDJGNDNR!!!?!?@#?@ first johan liebert fan art, a MAJESTIC one at that, dedicated to my fic‼😭💘 yOU ARE SUCH A GREAT ARTIST what the hell?!?!?! LIKE THE LINES?!?!? THE SHADING AND COLORING STYLE?? delicious. SUPERB. i will eat ur art 1000/10

now i CAN definitely imagine johan shamelessly huffing a lil cig at YOUR bathroom door (the audacity of this bitch!!!) after removing his anna liebert costume, make up, and all because he's confident not even the stink of cigarette smoke could wake his favorite roommate up 😔✊ he had spent a lot of nights observing you sleep to know that much, after all.

the only con is that he'd have to clean the ashes along with his make up kit among many other things. you see, it's actually quite apparent to notice that someone had smoked inside your bathroom—there would be ashes on the floor, the stinky smell would stick to the tiles, and it would all be piled up with your annoyance to whoever the fuck would break into your house while you're sleeping just to do such an abhorrence.

but johan, this unhinged man, is living off the thrill of being caught, of being noticed and known by you—well, much to his denial of his own existence. he thinks it's just his self-destructive tendencies at work, but deep inside you should know that this fucker is sometimes disgustingly filled with satisfaction during scenario-buildings—an event where you could see him all bare and exposed, a point in time where the monster lays itself bare to the one who interests him most. oh, you'd be so terrified. perhaps your whole world would crumble, even. he sure knows it would—that is in accordance to his will—for the monster, for the first time in his life, wants to have a tumultuous impact towards another living being.

he doesn't know the reason why, though. this is the first time the monster inside him took this type of interest towards someone.

HERE'S THE OIL WELL FIRES FANFIC for those who haven't read it yet btw <333

@riewritten caught johan getting out of drag

kept procrastinating on this cuz i kept nitpicking but i need to work on my perfectionism so i went ahead and tried to finish it instead of throwing it in the WIP dungeon LOL. now go read “oil well fires” by riewritten. genuinely the best johan fic i’ve read and i can’t wait to read the future chapters 🙏🙏

[eatenthing]

An old one, an old tale

[plrle]

Idk if you still have requests open but if yes can you draw Prieur wearing a choker with a π shaped charm (like this: https://www.amazon.com/necklace-mathematics-jewelry-math-teacher/dp/B01FLW687U) ? 🥺

sorry for the long reply! finally made it to your request :]

it seems that Prieur likes it!!

[riewritten]

and the way he could be so experienced yet inexperienced in handling your very giant affection, right?

like he'd start at innocently asking, "are you okay?" whenever you flinch, face flushed, as he languidly examines your arm for vital signs. and you'd just nod at him meekly, still couldn't look him in the eye, screaming in your head "man, have pity on me."

and perhaps your body eventually takes phoebe bridger's waiting room so seriously because you'll start getting sick more often. more reason to come to him! until one time he just tells you with a defeated smile after check up, "eat and sleep well so you won't have to come back here, okay? look at you. you're never been this sickly before!" then he pats your head. he means well, he really does, but it garners nothing but a glare from you.

"then see me outside your clinic room."

tenma's smile turns awkward, "c-come again?"

"go out with me! that way i would stop being sick because my body keeps on finding you!"

tenma slowly retracts his hand on top of your head, and slowly but surely, heat creeps up his face. you run out of his room out of shame even before he could say more such as, "b...but... code of ethics... doctor and patient are not supposed to go out..." oh bullshit. you want to pounce on him. the code of ethics could go fuck itself when you two end up fucking each other.

oh god, how embarrassing. with his handsome face, you just knew he'd have lots of experience with romance, so why is he so shocked and flushed at your remark? as if your body listened to you, you stop getting sick after that encounter, perhaps because your own ailment is utter shame of showing your face to him again.

it was until you saw each other coincidentally at some cafe did your body feel unwell again—head dizzy, stomach churning, knees weak and mouth holding back a squeal—all because of his new haircut. he's already handsome in his poorly maintained straight hair that he couldn't cut because of busy schedule, but now? oh man. oh man. and the way his eyes perk up as soon as it sees you? the way he smiles? the way he calls your name in delight as if you two haven't seen each other for decades? this man is so undeniably hot, but his adorability is what got you wrapped in his pretty (broad and rough) fingers that you want somewhere indecent.

and yet, and yet, and yet! the first thing you blabbered as soon as he reaches you was, "my word, you look so hot in that haircut."

he gets all red again but his fluster is immediately cut off when you slap yourself in the face, hard. "sorry," you mutter weakly afterward.

"thanks," when you look at him again, he's now genuinely smiling. "you look much better now, too. perhaps you don't need to go out with me to feel better, yeah?"

with utter shame you look away, "i think i have this chronic ailment of not thinking of my words before i speak."

"that i can see well," he teasingly adds. "mind sitting with me, then? perhaps we could talk about it and i could come up with a..." he thinks it through, "prognosis."

oh, he's so corny and pathetic. you adore him so much. please stop the urge to pounce on him in public, though.

"sure thing, doctor."

ACTUALLLYYY im kind of in a Tenma mood right now. I want reader trying their best to not look at him disrespectfully, because it feels downright sinful to think of him in that way.

[caparrucia]

Askbox is open again! And I'm taking prompts for ficlets (<1k), same rules as always:

Any ship from my fandoms (hoyoverse, wuwa, FFXV, Pokemon)

Don't be a fucking dick to me or to my friends.

First come, first serve!

Ten slots only.

Have fun!

[tsunanami17]

Some driven betrayal sillies (featuring Rie with a tan… debating making it canon. Shout out to my friend @00violens for making a Rie design for fun some time ago with this skin tone…)

[riewritten]

Sometimes I forget that Johan Liebert is canonically fluent in other languages.

Imagine him giving giving you one-on-one English classes for whatever shenanigans and one day you come at him with the fruits of his labor.

"Your English is getting good day by day. That's great. It won't be long 'til you say goodbye to my lessons."

"Really?" you gasp, clearly proud of yourself. "Hold on, how about I try to construct sentences while you correct my mistakes?"

Johan has always been the one to initiate an activity to gauge what you've learned, so needless to say he's amused to not humor your request. "Go on."

"I have a cat. His name is Johan. He's quiet but likes to cuddle a lot."

"No mistakes, but to sound more native, you can say it this way instead: I have a cat named Johan. He's quiet but likes to cuddle a lot."

"Oh! Okay, let me try again." You take your time before speaking again. "I want an old rich guy who give me money after he dies."

"No, you don't."

"Huh?"

"You wouldn't want that."

"Oh! Yes, I wouldn't," you agree, much to his relief (why is he relieved?) "But you were supposed to correct my grammatical errors, Johan."

"Oh."

"So...? Did I have any errors?"

"The correct way to say it is: I want a rich old guy who would give me money after he dies," he says, only to add, "But you wouldn't want that. Trust me. You don't."

"I think I would like the idea," you negate. "I need money, after all."

Only if you know that the person responsible for the economic crisis you're undergoing is right in front of your eyes. Fortunately, you don't, which explains why Johan is in front of you.

"Someone younger could give it to you. Don't you worry."

"So..." you awkwardly start, "are we still doing the game or not?"

Well, only if you didn't make a sentence like that, Johan wouldn't be so distracted.

"Yeah," Johan chuckles almost nonchalantly. "I forgot I was supposed to do that."

[riewritten]

@danchou-danchou i'm afraid i'm having so much fun with these 😭

my last line is from Mere Droplets of Water Can Still Make a Glass Full, context is that reader ended up assisting drunk erwin back to his place.

You're seated on the floor beside his bed, forehead propped on the edge of his foam. Your eyes are fixated on the cold floor, and yet you could feel Erwin's gaze on the crown of your head. You swear that the silence could choke you to death—it would. Hell, it would. As if Erwin hears your plea, he places a hand on the crown of your head and says, "Go home now, please." You try to raise your face and meet his eyes, only for him to press his hand further to stop you. "Don't show your face to me when I'm on this state. I might end up doing things I would regret tomorrow."

i don't have lots of writer friends, so @rinamars @satorisa, i hope u wouldn't mind! (also @collinnmckinley, i thought you'd like to hear erwin out on this so i specfically chose mere droplets for this game)

Last Line Tag

Original thread ~

RULES: share the last line you wrote for your WIP, and then tag as many people as there are words. ...

Apart from a few bandages wrapped around his forearms, his body lay unusually bare; an apparition of ghostly pale skin.

(Guess who ^^)

Tagging: (I've got to annoy 20 people now? Fuuuck. Note to self: edit out these stupidly long, run on sentences). @this-is-krikkit @wanderlustqueen-writes @sixpennydame @littlerequiem @leviismybby @romantichomicide95 @nuri148 @wyvernslovecake @fanmoose12 @moogleterra @mstwnttd @yokohamapound @dreamingon-forever @hangeslefteye @nube55 @giuliadrawsstuff

Help, I have no friends so I'm having to bother the people who have already done this! Thanks for the tag @youre-ackermine @humanitys-strongest-bamf - you're it now! And I'm sure you guys don't mind sharing another line? @roseofdarknessblog @the-milk-anon

[wingsofbadass]

Ranma 1/2 au where Lan Zhan falls into the Spring of the Drowned Girl, except it's a blessing instead of a curse.

With art by @lilkikibat 💖

[dailyreine]

　OC Ask Game ⁺˖⋆

↳ free to reblog + play!

What inspired you when creating them?

Their favourite place and memory there.

Do you have any crackships with them?

Cats or dogs?

What's their go-to drink?

Favourite sitcom and or horror film.

Do they have siblings?

Tell us a secret about their lore!

Their lucky, unlucky, and favourite number.

Which reincarnation of James Bond would they like the best?

A song that plays when they appear.

Pick a Minecraft block for them.

What was their childhood “thing”? (e.g. Pokémon, dinosaurs, princesses...)

Their favourite season of the show they're in (or favourite arc, if they're from some other form of media)

Pick a cereal that you'd put them in a bowl of.

What does their Pinterest look like?

What does their Tumblr look like?

What does their phone case, home and lock screen look like?

Favourite sea animal.

Are they “lalalala” or “okokokok”?

A song you'd like to animate them to!

Name a character from a different fandom they'd get along with.

Give them a sweet fluffy moment to make up for all that trauma you gave them.

Their favourite word?

Random fact!

[eatenthing]

[stories-by-rie]

how to feel excited about my own projects again

[paramythas]

to you, who will someday die

since I survived, I realized —

nobody's promised tomorrow

In her hands, the notebook's leather cover creaks faintly, her grip on it too tight. Only when thin indents from her nails threaten to become punctures does her grip loosen, letting it slip from her fingers and into her lap. Its muted fall against her legs is barely audible, momentum pulling it sideways to slide from her lap and onto the bed.

The spell to cut off the sound from her room barely has time to finish taking form by the time it's settled, and Rie's hands press harshly against her face, unable to at all muffle the ugly, wrenching sob that claws its way out of her chest like some living, breathing, aching thing.

It's not new, losing friends.

It's not new, having to keep moving forward, to continue forward, even while their lives rapidly fade in her periphery, in the background of her seemingly endless, all-consuming mission.

It's not new... but it still hurts.

Delivering the report had only been manageable because of her exhaustion, body too aching and mind too tired to allow her anything but detachment as she stood and relayed the details of the Singularity. Yet she had been able to keep herself together, resigned to allowing herself to feel the misery when she finally had some time to herself, only...

Only...

I know I'll go out proudly, as a hero and Servant helping their Master... but that doesnt't make it any easier to say goodbye to my friend—

Only it's too much.

Too familiar, too unexpected, too sudden- and regardless of the 'good news', it doesn't change it. It doesn't ease the ache in her heart, which has been holding itself tight until she was finally alone before bursting, filling her ribs with the persistent throb of loss. It doesn't change the fact that the Kadoc who had let her call him senpai, who had tried so hard to teach her as much as he could, who had fought and suffered and laughed beside them after everything- despite everything- is gone. It isn't that she won't be grateful, if she can save him, in the end. It isn't that she won't try to be his friend again, after the end.

That Kadoc, who had never met her, and this Kadoc, who had left her all he could, would fundamentally never be the same person.

And though she would try, though she would still offer her hand, offer her support- one would never replace the other.

One couldn't ever replace the other.

So it isn't just because he's gone that she sobs, hands clamped over her open, bawling mouth, barely able to gasp for air. It isn't just because she's lost another person who has become dear to her, despite everything, including their own differences.

It's because not for the first time, she's lost a friend, and while she may one day see him again- it will never be the same. He will never be the same.

And she alone will carry the weight of those memories, of that loss, even while she once again prepares to welcome them back into her life.