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edelfie · 3 months ago

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#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! in her lowest era.

#summary. everyone knows hot girls exude an air of nonchalant confidence at all times. but sometimes, hot girls let the negativity of others get to them. so what is a good friend supposed to do when they have a depressed, insecure hot girl on their hands? remind her of exactly what she is of course—hot! (adverse side effects may include: heartache, enlarged ego, superiority complex, and undesired memories).

or, you have to hit rock bottom before you can reach the top—that entails reliving the moments before the worst decision of your life.

#content warning. discussion of cheating, mentions of edibles/acid, swearing, suicide jokes, Y/N is a hater (as she should be tho tbh)

— TOKYO, 5:47AM

Sometime last night, you had started crying.

The popcorn ceiling stared back at you as the fan blew lukewarm air across your face. There were tear tracks staining your face, marring it in an ugly visage of an emotion you thought you wouldn’t feel. You're certain the rims of your eyes were swollen, an ugly, angry shade of red. The same could be said about your nose and cheeks, which were warm to the touch.

There were deep imprints along your skin from the position you fell asleep in. You must've been cradling your face with your hand as you could trace dents in your forehead that aligned with your fingers. And even the morning after, you can still recall the tightening of your chest as you read Tendou’s messages. It’s a frightening emotion; sadness. And all for what?

Tendou’s words rang true within you, and while they sucked to hear it wasn’t enough to make you shed a tear. You understand where he was coming from, even if you were disappointed in yourself for not realizing it sooner. Would’ve been nice to not have wasted 10 years…

But it was what came after your conversation that truly depressed you to your breaking point. It was an offhand comment that was meant to lift you up, except it only made you spiral further.

“I don’t want to hurt you Y/N.”

Such words were often heard by you, and in your youth it severely pissed you off. You remember storming into your dorm and ranting to your roommate about receiving a similar comment. It always set you off to be perceived as fragile, someone sensitive and easy to break. Maybe that’s why people stopped telling you as you got older—then knew how sensitive you were to it.

But instead of the mildly aggravating memories of your childhood, your mind jumped to him and a stupidly ironic text he sent you just weeks ago. And so, as soon as you finished talking with Tendou, you opened the old text thread and searched for it.

If Yachi knew you still kept his number, she would give you a well-deserved scolding. You, on the other hand, prefer to keep the texts—written proof that you weren’t crazy for being as head-over-heels as you were, that none of it was fake (to your knowledge at least).

So, you laid in bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your old texts. You tried not to get choked up at the thought of leaving it all behind—all the jokes, the chemistry, the memories shared. You were not fruitful in your task.

You aren’t normally the type of person to be angsty about showing emotions. You didn't like the thought of you growing too big for your britches, either—that you gained some sort of complex of being above humanity despite have minimal success. But this felt like something childish to cry over.

The thought—no, the reminder—of crying over him of all people made you reel in disgust. To think you wasted tears on him, of all people. The same tears you shed when your family dog died, when you held your baby cousin for the first time, when you left—

He wasn't worth any of them. In fact, he wasn’t worth salt, nor the dirt at the bottom of your shoes. But that's the funny thing about emotions; they defy all logic and reasoning. You knew what you were getting into when you hooked up the first time, and then the second, and the third. And yet, you still feel the immense grief and pain of a familiar memory.

You didn’t cry nearly as hard for any of your previous breakups. Sure, you occasionally thought about the guy you dated for two years, and same with the girl who used you dry then ran. Sometimes you shed a few tears over them, but it was always in the metaphorical sense. What if I did this thing, what if they did that thing, etcetera.

It’s unfair to compare most of your past exes to the selfish man that is Miya Atsumu and the entanglement he wrapped you in. Because ever since that morning you woke up to your number blocked and his ass far away where you can’t reach him, you noticed something about him.

There was something uniquely cruel within him, and it was revealed as you saw just who he was reflecting back at you—a visage of a man who cares for nobody but himself.

There was a time in which you did consider Atsumu to be human, but you have since revoked that right. After all, he approached you looking for a good time. He claimed to want a future with you, but he must’ve been confused. And when he was done milking you like a cow, he vanished. To his richer, prettier, socially acceptable girlfriend—pardon, fiancée.

He got the luxury of whoring around with you, while painting you as the evil, manipulative temptress. Never mind the fact that they were broken up, even if him cozying up in her bed when he should’ve been next to you complicated things. Yet not a single person raised hell to call him what he was—an arrogant, insecure, pampered little boy.

And now look at him. One of Japan’s darlings, an Olympic champion, and now a soon-to-be family man. Miya Atsumu got his way, as he always does. And you were the damn fool for playing the part.

You realized in an instant what had occurred, and with it came a pain that many fail to understand. You were used, both as a shield and as a glorified sex doll. But you weren’t even good enough—worth enough—to keep around. You just had to be tossed out when you weren’t a fun, shiny new toy anymore.

Desperately did you wish these past few months were all some sick, twisted dream, which you would awake from and laugh with your friends about. You’d tell them how, in the dream, you were dating a total douchebag with a serious Madonna-Whore complex, you graciously playing the whore, of course. But at least then you could wake up and breathe in relief that it wasn’t true.

The clock on your side table ticked silently, its hour hand barely past 6. You knew you had to rise soon and begin your day, but for now you were okay with laying and wallowing in your frustration. Only when you get it out of your system will you be able to think clearly and plan ahead.

Of all the girls he could’ve picked, Miya Atsumu picked you. Unfortunately for him, you had already sworn to yourself long ago to never be taken advantage of and made a fool ever again. And he has no idea what’s coming for him.

Someone, somewhere, must’ve said something along the lines of “There is inspiration to be found all around you.” In your groggy state of mind, you couldn’t be bothered to probe further as to who the quote belonged to. What you did know was that you were bombarded by such inspiration. And if you weren’t in such a rush for work, that would almost be a good thing.

Despite your aspirations of being a globally sensationalized popstar, you were still (for the mean time) just a normal person. A normal person with a large Twitter following, but one nonetheless. The money you took in from streaming was chump change, and any gigs willing to hire you would only cover a month of rent on a good day.

To put the god-awful cherry on top, you were now without a label. While being signed was supposed to help you get more attention and produce better quality music, it didn’t translate into anything tangible. After one album and three EPs, your label dropped you, along with an inconceivable amount of debt that you now owed them. Briefly you’ve considered picking up another job or two to pay for it all, but you weren’t sure if it would actually help—you weren’t college educated after all.

Still, you moved on with your life and have dropped songs here and there over the past four years. They all did significantly worse than your previous stuff—having minimal promotion, poor sound mixing, and no cohesion between them. It was during this period that you met Yachi, Asahi, and Terushima, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Those three have saved your ass from total irrelevancy many times over, and often just out of the goodness of their hearts.

It does make you feel as though you’re using them sometimes. Even though you know they mean well by refusing to accept payment from you, you still hate the idea of being indebted to them like you are with your old label.

You have to remind yourself that they’re nice people who would never do that to you. Not when they know how you’re so broke, you’ve taken to learning how to produce your own music and bought your own microphone with money you’ve saved over the years. You’ve even picked up a side gig DJ-ing at a popular Tokyo club. That’s what the majority of your followers know you from, unfortunately.

Regardless, you stumble through your tiny studio apartment, opening the small storage closet you workshopped into an actual closet, curtesy of your landlord.

“Where the hell did I put it…” you mutter.

Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets as you try to pick out your apron among the mass of clothes threatening to fall off their hangers. It’s no use though—the black of your apron is bound to blend in with every other item you own.

Forcing a gap with both your arms, you hurriedly make your way through each hanger, panting at the weight pressing down on your hands. If it weren’t for the clatter of flimsy metal against wood, you likely wouldn’t have realized something fell. Gaze following the noise, you feel a pitter-patter in your heart at the sight.

The men's hoodie laid dead on your dusty floor, the number 13 across the back peeling away.

Of course he would leave it here. Was this supposed to be funny to him? Some sick, twisted mind game he was playing at you with so that he can live in your head? Or was he truly just such an airhead he didn't do his due diligence in cleaning house?

You knew it was the latter, but still...the blood boiled under your skin as you picked the hoodie up with your foot and slung it across your room as best you could. You'd rather be burned by the rays of a thousand suns than relieve the day you received it.

It took another five minutes before you found your work uniform and apron, quickly ushering yourself into your bathroom to get ready. Somehow, though, it seems the universe has it out for you today—everywhere you turned you were reminded of Atsumu, for worse.

You go to make your breakfast for once? There's leftovers of his still in the fridge. You wanted to be productive and throw out the trash before you left? Too bad, a shard of a plate he broke poked out of the bag and cut you. You go to grab your house keys by the door, fed up by this insanity? There's a matching keychain hanging off of it.

Truly, the ridiculousness of it all left you winded, slamming your door behind you before jogging down your apartment stairs. You just had to leave before it all became too much. Otherwise, then next time your coworkers saw you would be a broadcast from NHK on a woman jumping off the Tokyo Skytree.

As you approach a familiar stoplight, you relax slightly knowing the little cafe you work at is just a few blocks away. The light turns red right as you near it, forcing you to stop dead in your tracks. There are a few other people standing near you, most looking down at their phones or chatting casually.

For whatever reason though, as if you were possessed, you chose against burying your face in your phone and instead looked around the mini plaza. The buildings around you were covered in various promotional art and advertisements. It was there that you locked eyes with Miya Atsumu.

"I don't see what's so special over here." You tease, a smile tugging at your lips.

The blonde besides you cries out, "What?! It's totally the best spot in all of Tokyo!"

"And why should I believe you, 'Tsumu?"

His body moves before his mouth does, pointing directly behind and above you. You turn to look, only to be met by a giant billboard of his face.

"Because I'm in it, obviously." He's clearly proud of it by how his tone vibrates, though not quite confident as his ears are a pinkish-tinge.

You're silent for a few moments. The mammoth before you should feel mocking, as if making fun at your painful normalcy. But it doesn't. By some grace of God, Miya Atsumu is able to make you feel entirely okay with being 'normal', at least for the time being.

When you turn back towards him, he seems more nervous than before. His posture is tense, eyes searching yours while expecting disapproval. It's hard not to giggle at the way his own blow wide when you smile instead.

"Well...don't get too comfortable then, because I'll be up there next."

He laughs heartily, a sound you wish to keep inside a music box—a birdcage of your own making. You stumble forward as he swings an arm around your shoulder, leaning down to your ear.

"I'd like that, doll, but only if I'm in it with you."

The light of the crosswalk turns white, and you're sure you've never walked faster in your life.

Someone must’ve slipped an edible in your drink. That, or you’re still asleep and trapped in a bad dream. A nightmare, actually—the worst nightmare of all time possibly.

Your morning was actually rather uneventful up until this point, sans a few traumatic flashbacks. You arrived to work on time with seconds to spare, quickly tying your apron around your waist and shoving your keys and phone in the pockets. Thankfully your coworkers were kind enough to not mention your frazzled state and silently worked as you assumed your position at the register.

There was an even split of new customers and regulars—a college girl who you’ve served the same iced latte since she was in high school, a woman and her child who will fall to the floor in tears over a cake pop, and a man with the prettiest eyes behind his square glasses. You don’t have the privilege of knowing his order by heart, but the smile playing on his face makes you wish you did.

As you called out another name attached to another face in the crowd, you foolishly allowed yourself to believe today would be normal. It only took a sharp chime of the bell for that to change.

“Welcome in!” You call out the words before you look up.

You can sense the person approaching the counter, stopping a liberal distance away from yourself. They seem to not know what they want or aren't that big of a talker as the only noise you hear is the calm ambiance of the cafe. A heavy feeling of suspense washes over you at once, simultaneously willing you to look up and avoid eye contact. How weird.

Finally, you lift your gaze only to wish you never had.

(Correction: You wished, rather, that you were never born. That way you wouldn't be forced to interact with a disinterested Lia Handa as she stands before you.)

It seems Fate is a cruel mistress, and you have earned her ire today. That's fine. It's cool, even. So long as you pick the right dialogue options, you'll survive this interaction and maybe won't be turned into a gossip piece afterwards. If you weren't tripping on acid before, you definitely were now.

All your worry was misplaced, however, as Lia didn't make any comments towards you. She didn't even look in your general direction for that matter—eyes flipping between the menu and her phone with as much excitement as she could muster. None, it seems.

You suppose this is more favorable than her causing a needless scene or being overly rude and demanding. Still, it irks at you either way. The woman before you, while not your number one enemy, is certainly high up on your list. She allows her fans to harass and slander you despite herself being the homewrecker, and here she is in front of you acting...normal?

No, that's not even the word for it. She's acting as though you don't exist—and you're positive that if she even bothered to treat you as a human and not a mindless capitalist slave she would realize just who you are, and suddenly she would be acting a lot different.

She looks down at the pastry cabinet without much enthusiasm, as expected. Her eyes scanned long enough for it to be awkward before she pointed at one, forcing you to lean your head over to see the one she wanted. Oh, you hated her. Even if you didn't before, you sure as do now.

Still, you take out a small bag and reach into the cabinet to pull out the pastry. It was at that moment that Lia receives a call, cutting you off from asking her how many she wanted. She flips her hair over her should with a heavy sigh, pressing answer and holding the phone up to her ear. Her voice is lighting-quick, yet drags on long enough to be grating.

"Um, ma'am?" The words burned like a poison on your tongue. You consider ripping hers out as she doesn't glance at you, asking "What?" in thinly-veiled annoyance.

"How many do you want?"

She holds up two fingers, still talking and looking down as she fishes for her wallet in her purse. You place the bag with the pastries—cutely designed cookies you saw go viral on Instagram a few days ago—on the counter, swapping it for the credit card she placed. You briefly consider stealing her card information, but she'd surely notice and be even more pissed at you if you did. You can't go around ruining your own reputation like that!

Still, you're almost impressed at how skillfully she ignores you. It's so effectively aggravating you may have to start implementing it in your own life. After all, if you dare to complain about it to anyone else, they wouldn't understand the depth of how insulting it is. Especially as you're forced to watch her walk off, pastries in hand, while you're the only one left with any residual feelings.

Digging a hand into her brown paper bag, she balances her phone between her ear and shoulder. You notice how when she speaks in English, she talks a mile and minute, and if you were a better woman you would assume that was why she was so quiet. But you’re not, and you’re convinced she’s just a bitch.

There is a slim part of your humanity that wishes to crawl out, wishing to be fair for her sake. Maybe she’s just having a bad day, or gets shy talking in public. There are lots of people who feel more confident when posting content online versus interacting in person!

But as you watch her take a bite of that cookie, the words “Taste Me!” iced in baby blue on it, and witness as she reels in disgust and quickly spits it back out…yeah, you’re feeling like a bitch. Especially when a sentence pops into your head, as if sent down in the form of a prophecy by some higher being:

“You’ll just have to taste me when he’s kissing you.”

BLIND ITEMS! —

## this foreign-born beauty influencer was spotted at a cafe this morning trying pastries. however, from her cold demeanor towards staff to her loud talking on a not-so-important seeming phone call, it seems she lacks basic manners. the cherry on top is, of course, when she spit out her food as soon as she took a bite, right in front of the cashier. [revealed: lia handa]

## the self-proclaimed better-twin athlete seems to be living out his final bachelor days. he was caught making out with a fan at a party before downing way too many drinks to be sexy. he then proceeded to make a drunken fool of himself, much to the discomfort of everyone else. [revealed: miya atsumu]

sera_pent. NOOOOO NOT MY FAVS

kelpkelp. y is any1 surprised? lol — justagirl. ikr, as if they haven't been on an off since forever

elmosupremecy. heartless influencers being heartless influencers, shocking ! — leobaby. right, like ofc your fav is awful, they're fucking famous — garagoesgaga. as if your fav is better, yet you worship the ground she walks on — elmosupremecy. does y/n just live in your head rent free? literally get a life LMAO

NOTES! —

Hello, hello! Another day, another late post and a fundraiser. In memorial of the tragedy at Appalachian High School earlier today, our fundraiser is the Sandy Hook Promise. The Sandy Hook Promise Organization is dedicated to fighting against school-based gun violence and protecting children. You don't have to donate money to support their cause, as there are many volunteer and advocacy opportunities available to make the voices demanding meaningful change against gun violence heard. For more information on the Organization, you can visit their website here and directly donate to their cause here.

It’s come to my attention that in all my notes, I appear to be a serial yapper…I was going to make this one shorter but I changed my mind, so too bad! Anyways, this chapter was very cathartic to write LOL. I, too, was cheated on in the not-so-distant past (aka 2 years ago), but I still feel the effects of it every now and then. To me, it felt exactly as I described it within Y/N, so I hope it resonates with someone else!

Anyways, I fear the last chapter was a flop…at least in my books LOL. I promise I’m not trying to rush through anything—Y/N being insecure is not a plot point of this story, so think of her lowest low as a fruitful beginning! Hence the title LOL. Besides, I think writing text convos is my least developed skill—I’m much more in my element writing full paragraphs, which is saying something since this chapter is pretty janky at parts. So! This is a very convoluted way to say that i changed some of the screenshots towards the end of last chapter, so go back and read that if you want back in on the loop! It's nothing too serious (I think) but just some minor things. I might also change Asahi's thoughts on Y/N but likely not, since it's not really meant to be an 'accurate' reflection of her character, just how he sees her yk.

PREV + MASTERLIST + NEXT

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kurosstuff · 1 month ago

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Hopefully thos is a good casual talk(not totally idk HELP ?)

HELP- Im still watching so forgive me if I didn't write her wrll I don't remember much from the first time I watched- tell me if I need to change anything from how I write "soft" carmilla(which tbh I don't think would be all that soft given who she is bur she tries)

Warning(s): fluff no angst(maybe a tiny bit? Idk), soft Carmilla, MAYBE ooc carmilla, carmilla is just head over heels for you, CLIFF HANGER ENDING, kinda rushed idk

Carmilla x human! Reader: late night talks

It's not every day or night you get alone time with your beloved girlfriend...or mate? Whatever the proper term would be. Carmilla was always busy doing God's knows what. From being with her sisters and planning whatever they do in that meeting room, going out personally to ensure her plans are working herself. Never allowing herself a break not even the Queen vampire herself is free from paper work.

Just comes with the responsibilities she has on herself

Makes nights like these so worth it- how she wore her sleep wear finally relaxing in bed with you awake this time- a hand gently scratching your scalp- her retractable claws shortened to ensure your comfort and safety- how she pulled you snug into her chest- "my darling?" She spoke softly- making you grin nuzzling into her making her hum softly

Oh how lucky you are- the only one in the universe itself to hear her speak speak in such a soft way- "my mate?" She purred out softly kissing the top of your head smiling softly once you looked up at her "now what's on your mind? So much I had to repeat myself to gain your attention?" She purred softly the usual playful glint in her eyes when she looked at you.

But you knew. Everyone knows how she loaths repeating herself. No matter what it is- but when it's you? She doesn't seem to mind that much...but even she has limits with you.

"You~" you replied, quickly leaning up to kiss your lover softly, making her hum content almost smug at your words "oh of course~ my darling Carmilla adores to be thought about no?" You teased softly moving to sit up stretching

A soft growl followed by a grumble escaped the vampire behind you- followed by rustling "you know your the only one I want to think of me in such a way. Like how you plauge my thoughts and dreams~" Carmilla purred out, moving to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you close, practically dragging you on her lap- you'd call her clingy if you didn't get hissed at before from the 'lies'

"Oh~? I plauge you my dear? Such a horror no?"

"Indeed it is~" smirking softly kissing your lips softly her cold fangs brushing against you in a soft motion "but I wouldn't want it any other way my lovely little human~" she hummed out softly leaning to look out the window- the full moon shining as she huffed

You knew exactly what that meant. That distaste on her face. How irritated she became so fast- so quickly. You prayed you had longer to be with her. In her arms

"I must leave soon"

"Must you?" You cut her off knowing anyone else? Wouldn't have survived much less gotten a half of a glare. "Must you leave? You can stay longer~? With me.. in our bed~ our room? Cuddling more?" Turning in her hold to face her fully as she hummed thinking it over

"..not too much longer. My sisters think I spoil you too much, " making you fake gasp- earning a soft laugh,"but I believe you're not spoiled enough~" staring at you softly in that loving look- how you truly help her unbeating heart as she holds your beating one

"What do you think of marriage?"

The room fell silent as she stared at you- mouth slightly open before she hummed. Automatically, you felt guilty. Knowing from what she spoke before- she doesn't enjoy the idea of it. How she would have to share her status? Share control? Both things she hated the most.

Hated giving control to anyone. Even her own sisters. To the point it would lead to arguments. Rare fights between them all- but as you understood, they did to- so their would always be a condition. Agreements. How Carmilla would have more control then the others even just slightly. It's something no one could blame her for it.

"Oh god i.. carmilla, I'm so sorry for suggesting g the idea i-" you quickly rushed to fix your slip up- something you never wanted her to know. The one selfish(you deemed) thought.. dream to have. To have her as your wife- more then just a girlfriend as you spilled over your apology- Carmilla watched you closely in thought

"Marriage?" She hummed softly, rubbing your waist in an attempt to calm you - which as always did. "I have thought of it," she hummed softly, "marrying you. Making you mine for eternity." Leaning agaisnt the bedframe making you look at her once again flushed- earning a smirk from her "being your wife~ now that. Isn't a bad thought~" she hummed in thought tapping your waist in deep thought of what that could mean

Of what she's saying.

"My gods.. Y/N.. how inlove with you must I be to allow this thought?" She spoke softly speaking parts of her mind allowed. You stayed quiet listening to her as she gathered whatever she had planned "marriage is on equal standings with each other. Of course we are now but. Their was always that control I had fully. I'm a queen- your my human lover." She hummed softly tilting her head furrowing her eyebrows

Had you heard anyone else say that- you'd be upset. Mad. But not her Not at your Carmilla. You understood why she said that- why she saw you as an equal being but not. Your still a human- not even you can make her see humans as more then a pest- but you've always been seen differently in her eyes

"...I think I'd like it" Blinking, you looked back at Carmilla, who almost seemed bashful.. an odd contrast from what you usually see. The usual calculating face. Of someone who planned what she would do. Planned to say before hand

But now- you hear the rare thoughts allowed before she herself thought it through "I would love to marry you one day. Maybe not soon. But one day. When you and I are both fully ready." Holding you closer, not minding the fact you are now too flustered by her words to reply - she already knew the answer - so she smirked, kissing you deeply trying to show her deep love to you in a physical way "so I'll ask you~ my darling human~ my mate~" she purred against your lips leaning back- to hold your hands kissing the finger where a ring would sit

"Will you marry me one day?"

#carmilla castlevania #carmilla castlevania x reader #castlevania #castlevania x reader #carmilla x reader #ENDS IN A CLIFF HANGER♡#what do you guys say♡ 🤭

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bitter-caf · 1 month ago

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I have a new fanfic idea I must share to the few people who have followed me in the last month. Hi hello hi. Feel free to use it if you'd like. It's just a ramble, so sorry if it's confusing.

I need more Werewolf!Charles Rowland aus. I need Charles pretending to be Crystals dog so he doesn't have to pay Jenny rent and he'd def beg Jenny for meat scraps. Or walking around London pretending to be a stray and desperately avoiding pet control. (The amount of times Edwin has had to break him out is ridiculous, but if Charles acts friendly/pathetic enough, people throw him food). And Edwin will pet him if he's an animal (but not as a human. Charles thinks this is discrimination and complains loudly). But also the angst, werewolves in media (btw I'm going off of teen wolf canon werewolves for this au) seem to have a harder time controlling their anger and I think with Charles so full of anger, it'd be rough for him. Charles would almost definitely be wanted by police at this point, both bc of the shit him and Edwin get up to and the fact that he's technically a missing kid (bc ofc he would run away with Edwin. Also if he went back home, he'd probably eat his father or at least the kids who tried to kill him). Edwin would for sure be Charles 'anchor' (again teen wolf werewolves), as in the thing that keeps him from going feral every full moon and from biting people everytime he gets upset lol. Tho! Note: imagine they come across a "how to contain a werewolf during the full moon" guide and it's everything Derek (from teen wolf, look it up if you have no idea what I'm talking about) does during the full moon for new wolves. The restraints, that are pretty painful and dig into the skin with spikes bc it's harder to get out of something if everytime you move, it hurts. And imgaine: Charles would accept it bc what if he hurts Edwin? Unacceptable. But Edwin would maybe try then back out of using them bc this is torture and he can't let this happen to Charles. Just a nice bit of hurt/comfort there.

Then port townsend comes along and now Charles bestie is pulling away/hiding things and so the grounds pretty unsteady under Charles. He's so ready to just eat the Cat King. And later Monty. The CK likes him even less in this au bc dogs vs cats and so does Charles. It's very much a Charles- "I'm bigger than you and will eat you" and CK- "I'm better and smarter than you". From first meeting, it on SIGHT for the both of them. Tho CK does make an effort to keep Edwin between them at all times. And Edwin does make an effort to keep an eye on Charles, ready to grab him if he lunges for CK or something. (Its worth noting that Charles does listen to the instincts he has pretty often and Edwin enables and encourages him to do what feels right. Neither of them have any experience with werewolves so it works out. Which often evolves into Charles chasing things that run from him. Animals, suspects they're chasing for cases, occasionally Edwin. I just think Charles dealing with all these new animal like instincts could create some fun hijinks and shenanigans.) I just think it'd be a fun dynamic for CK and Charles.

Now is Edwin still a ghost or something else like a vampire? Tbh this would turn into more of a Being Human au if Edwin was a vampire lol but more gay and posssibly poly? And I think that would be beautiful. But if Edwins a vampire, I want it to be what we do in the shadows type vampire. Edwin deserves to be able to turn into a bat. Along with all the other powers those vamps have lol. They'd have to bring a bag of dirt from Edwins homeland with them to Port townsend and just imagine the outfit Edwin would wear if he has to go out during daylight. It would include a parasol. He would not change his outfit with the times. Just picture, him forcing Crystal to use a parasol during the day so he can hang upside down in it to avoid the sun. Charles in his wolf form next to her. If Charles has to wear a leash and collar only Edwins allowed to hold it lol. Crystal trying to convince everyone who asks that Charles is just large husky and very well trained. Edwin would not pretend to be a pet to avoid paying Jenny rent but will wait outside Crystals window. If hes seen by Jenny in bat form, Crystal calls him a pest and says she left her window open by accident. Edwin will never forgive her.

I think in terms of Edwins Hell, it could still be actual Hell honestly. Maybe before he's sacrificed by classmates, he's attacked and turned into a vampire. Or! More exciting. He's turned by a vampire and that vampire belongs to a satanic vampire cult. Which is, in fact, a thing in the interview with a vampire verse. And his Hell is them. For context, in the IWAV verse, this cult believes they are forsaken by God and now have to worship the devil bc they're vamps. They think any light at all will kill/hurt them, even candles. Along with a bunch of other crazy untrue things. They literally live in caves in complete darkness and know pretty much nothing about being a vampire. It's pretty sad and in IWAV this goes on until I think lestat meets them and goes "damn you live like this?" And he becomes like their Jesus for awhile and shows them the "light". He upgrades them, but then he gets bored and leaves and they get sad. It's so funny i love Anne Rice. Anyways, either Edwins Hell he escapes is that cult or! They sacrifice vampire!Edwin to the devil. And now he's in actual Hell. In this au, the caves they live in are somewhere in the Woods near St. Hilarion's. So either way when he escapes, it's around the time Charles is attacked by those boys and when he's running thru the woods, attacked again! by a werewolf. Oh! Maybe Charles friends are mauled to death by the werewolf and the only reason Charles survives his mauling is bc of Edwin. Maybe Edwin scares off the werewolf and brings Charles to the attic or something to try and help him. Charles is def mauled but still breathing, the bite takes before he bleeds out tho. Its a really bad night for him but Edwin still reads him to sleep and is suprised he wakes up.

Now to deal with Edwin being immortal and Charles not? Either mess with the way werewolves age, or! More exciting. They stay together anyway, with the thought of charles- "I wanna stay with you for the rest of my life" and edwin- "i wanna stay with you for the rest of your life." Very cute very wholesome. But then! Charles gets cursed somehow someway on one of their cases and welll, immortality always seems to come to those who aren't looking for it. And so now charles can't die and doesn't age lol. But theres a consequence, bc theres always a trade off. My idea is that now Charles "will never see the light of day again". It takes a bit for them to realizes it's a curse of immortality until either Charles is greviously injured or like a decade passes and they're like "charles still looks... 17???" que rigorious experimentaion. (Charles would for sure test at least some of the limits of his immortality and then abuse it. Edwin is horrified everytime, his poor unbeating heart. And his clothes whenever he has to carry a still healing charles home and hes covered in blood. Luckily he doesnt die often, werewolves are hard to kill.) and honestly when they heard that "never see the light of day", they really thought it was going to kill Charles. No, now just as soon as the sun comes up, charles is dead to the world. Like literally he will just pass out as soon as the sun comes up, no matter where he is. It's like he's a corpse. It freaks Edwin out when this happens the first few times. He legit thinks charles is dead. He certainly seems like it. But he reanimates/awakens as soon as the sun goes down. He does forget often to lay down on the couch or something before the sun comes up and will just fall over. This is probs mostly bc the window is covered in blackout curtains for Edwin.

But they for sure have either a bed or coffin they share during the day, bc of a lack of room in their space for two ofc and it's soooo platonic bestie behavior. They will be taking no comments. Crystal still sleeps on the couch tho. Would you wanna sleep in two teenage boys' bed or coffin? When you're thinking "they're probably together." Like ew no. Charles offered, but edwin was like ew. They obv both have a good sense of smell, and edwin does not want their bed/coffin to smell like her.

#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #fanfic #dbda #dbda fanfic

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crypt1dcorv1dae · 2 months ago

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Literally all the kids in demon slayer are neurodivergent, some of them are definitely autistic and have sensory issues connected to their weirdly enhanced senses, most notably zenitsu and inosuke, zenitsu usually getting pissed off when people are too loud and inosuke showing multiple times he's uncomfortable in crowds, among many other things I could point out ...

And tanjiro is the absolute king of masking (which is not a good thing) but clearly still has some Tendencies he just usually doesn't let himself experience the "negative" parts of it. He's like no I will not be doing that thank you :) (he will break someday I assure you.)

And I know nezuko's behavior is explained as being part of being turned into a demon, that for some reason she has a more childlike mental state than she did before, but that can also be and often is just a form of trauma response in anyone... Like demon or no, I think maybe seeing what she saw and going through all that could absolutely have just caused some age regression in general from PTSD, which as far as I remember is also a form of neurodivergency? I'm not sure if she was neurodivergent before that trauma tho, but tbh I think she shared a lot of similarities with tanjiro in that maybe she was just a real queen at masking her issues because she Had A Job To Do being basically the mini-mom to all her siblings especially since their dad died, just like tanjiro had to become the "man of the house" at only like 11 and was responsible for keeping his family like... Alive as a mini-dad. These poor fucking kids

Kanao and genya are too like ik kanao's behavior is explained in canon as being from her extremely abusive childhood but like, having trauma does not exclude you from also being autistic/ otherwise neurodivergent too, similarly to how I see nezuko too like ... She has PTSD which is it's own thing but I don't think she couldn't also be other things too

Genya I have less "evidence" for he just has the vibes idk. He has autism in his eyes

#tanjiro kamado #inosuke hashibira #zenitsu agatsuma #nezuko kamado #kanao tsuyuri #genya shinazugawa

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alittlebit0fmayhem · 2 years ago

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𝙻𝚊 𝚅𝚒𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎

I siriusly don't know why I've chosen now to fall back into my marauders phase, mais c'est la vie...

(see what I did there?)

I've taken French for literally five years, (I'm nowhere near fluent tho) so I have no idea why it's taken me so long to incorporate it into my writing.

In all honesty, I'm doing great mentally, but I've been pining for some wolfstar! x reader angst, and I haven't really found any that meet my fancy yet soooooo.

Fine I'll do it myself.

Summary: You were a hopeless romantic who had always tended to see things through rose colored glasses, falling in love with the idea of falling in love. Each new infatuation came to you like a fascination ready to be explored, there was nothing you loved more than the head-games of an all consuming crush. That was until, the latest object of attraction became two boys so incredibly and viscerally out of your reach.

Warnings: Angst! (like a lot), Unrequited love, fluff for a mere second, tbh I feel like it is funny at moments???

Once again, if you see any formatting/grammatical errors, please let me know!

Enjoy <3

———–

It had all been fun and games, it never really mattered, until it did.

It was no secret, to your family, your friends, and least of all you. You loved falling in love.

Bi-monthly, and sometimes depending on the circumstance, bi-weekly you waltzed into the Gryffindor common room with a new tale of budding romance to share with your friends. And they'd just look at you and smile,

"Ah, our (Y/N), ever the helpless romantic." they'd say, all the while you'd confirm their statements with a blush or grin.

It was harmless, innocent, you had made quite the reputation for yourself around Hogwarts.

Anyone who got involved with you knew your tendencies, that your heart could change pace like the seasons came and went. Each boy and girl you set your sights on was like a new game of chess for your dazzling beauty and quick wits to conquer.

Which, you knew in retrospect sounded terrible, but you also knew you were young, and that relationships and love should be something to explore, not something to hold you down.

Besides, it wasn't like they didn't mean anything to you, you felt heartbreak when it was said and done with. To you, the growth and rebirth that came with romance was something equally as beautiful as the summits and triumphs.

You had a sneaking suspicion, that if the Greeks and Romans were right about their gods, you had to have been under Aphrodite's watchful eye.

Coming up on your last year of Hogwarts, you had become unbeatable. You had captured so many suitors, there were even lingering rumors of Veela tainting your blood.

Of course, they were all false, though, you'd never tell anyone otherwise. Because, what fun would that be?

You had at least one crash-and-burn love story from every house to tell, it even got to the point that people were courting you with the intention of "taming" your rampage.

Never, had there been a crush you couldn't bounce back from, no matter how close to breaking you came, you never did.

That was until you just had to go and viciously fuck yourself over.

Your thoroughly used vinyl of La Vie en Rose echoed through your dorm room as it spun for what might've been the millionth time, lyrics serving as a cruel jab toward your current situation.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens,

You hadn't meant for it turn to out this way. For the first time in your entire life, there you sat, face stuffed into your pillow, wishing to Merlin that your heart could just bleed out of your chest.

Maybe then, it wouldn't be something you'd have to deal with, and you could forget about the prospect of falling in love together.

Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche,

It wasn't too late at all, it was just after dinner, and the rest of your dorm mates had cleared to the common room to celebrate the winning quidditch match that had transpired hours earlier.

On any usual occasion, you'd been down there with them, curled up on the couch next to Lilly, Mary, or Marlene, sipping rum-infused butter beer in content.

Instead, you were curled up alone, bathed in the dim light of your bedside candle, shivering from the cold.

Your blanket had fallen half down your body nearly fifteen minutes ago, and yet, the last thing on your mind was pulling it back up.

Voila le portrait sans retouches,

You had made some lame excuse as to why you would be exempt from tonight's actives, claiming you wanted to brush up on your divination for the exam at the end of the week.

Everyone had bought it, too high on youthful excitement and laughter to stop once more and examine the dark circles under your eyes.

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens,

As you stuffed your face further into the cotton pillowcase, you desperately wished the ground would open up and take you somewhere dark and quiet. Somewhere you could forget that you existed, so you could stop feeling like such a horrible human being.

Your mind had been clouded with buzzing jumbled thoughts for what felt like hours, never ceasing to give you a moment to rest. You surely thought your ears would start bleeding from how hard you had been thinking all day.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras,

You had now reached a point, with your uniform discarded haphazardly on the floor, and the sleep shirt you garnered swallowing you whole, where your brain had become filled with white noise.

The only coherent thought you could form right now, was how the hell did I get here?

Il me parle l'a tout bas,

Which of course, led you back into a rabbit hole of memories.

Je vois,

la vie en rose...

The infirmary's visiting hours were long over, the only company you had to keep was the first year who had fallen out of a tree that was sleeping in the cot next to you.

You should've been fast asleep by now, but you couldn't bring yourself to count a single sheep.

You weren't there for any real injury, a prank the boys had pulled a few hours earlier had backfired, and you had gotten the brunt of their mistake.

What was supposed to be a "pimple-inducing glitter rocket" (you had no idea how they got so creative) headed straight for Severus Snape, was quickly dogged by the intended victim, and who else was so lucky to be standing a few feet behind him, but you?

After a quick potion, you were fine, but you felt a little nauseous from the drink, and a little woozy from all the excitement, so you decided to stay there for the night.

A decision you were vastly regretting, as it was coming up on midnight and you had absolutely nothing to do.

You had resorted to trying to write a letter to a boy you broke up with two days prior, he had left on quite a sour note, and truthfully you felt a bit awful for him.

It wasn't necessarily his fault, like many prior partners, you'd just grown uninterested. You figured you should at least leave him a note apologizing for the entire ordeal, even if it did get left in the bin.

That would've been great and all, only, you had no bloody idea what to write.

This had to have been the fourth page of parchment you had crumbled up and discarded next to you. With the thin sheet from the hospital bed drawn over you, you sat dumbfounded, cross-legged with a small, pink, dancing flame next to your quill.

You had started writing the beginning sentence, but then again, nothing came to mind after that. Your regularly admired face was scrunched up deep in thought, your nightgown slipping down one shoulder as you held the feather deep in concentration.

You re-read what you already had, and decided to just follow up with whatever came to mind. Perhaps, you were thinking too hard.

After much consideration, you began writing once more,

"I'm sorry I got bored of you-" scratch. Nope, that was dreadful, this was a lost cause, and you were wretched.

You huffed dismally, with no regard for the boy sleeping only a few feet away, and just as you prepared to snuff the light out, and try to achieve some shut-eye, you heard it.

You heard the door to the hospital wing slowly squeak open.

You paused, who would be coming in at this hour?

You turned to the small flame dancing on the candle seated next to you and snuffed it with a pinch before grabbing your wand which was next to it.

"Lumos." You whispered, as a small orb of light spouted from the end of your wand, you dragged the sheet off your form.

You looked around the hospital wing, from the dozing first year to the grand windows that lined both walls, and finally, to the door.

Though open, no one besides you and the boy seemed to be in the room.

But you were raised by wizards and were best friends with the most ruthless tricksters Hogwarts had ever seen, so you know better than to glance only at surface level.

Slowly, you turned and lowered your feet onto the cold stone floor.

As you tip-toed around your bed, eyes squinting and wand raised high, you spoke aloud.

"Who's there?" Apart from the echo of your voice, and the murmurs from the boy next to you who stirred slightly, silence.

You stepped forward a few more paces so that you were in the center of the room.

"Show yourself!" You spoke slightly louder and turned in all directions as if hoping to catch any movement.

Nothing.

You sighed, perhaps you were just a lunatic, and the door had blown open on its own. You turned to walk back to your bed, and just as you took one step, you were interrupted by what nearly made you shit yourself.

"Hello, dear."

A voice cut through the air next to you, and you screamed on pure instinct.

Well, you would've, if not for the hand shooting out of the darkness to cover your mouth. You swung your wand in the direction of your assailant and were met with a sight completely unexpected.

Remus Lupin's big brown eyes, illuminated by your wand stared back at you. Or rather, down at you.

The significantly taller boy was heaving, his ruffled oaky hair falling slightly in his face, which held an expression that suggested you had scared him. The light traced his scars, and his large, cut-covered hand closed around almost the whole bottom half of your face.

You couldn't help but think; how pretty Remus Lupin looked at that moment.

He gulped, a smile tugging at his lips as his expression shifted into one of slight amusement, "Alright love, I'm going to remove my hand now, and you are going to promise me you won't scream at us."

His voice was a soft whisper and reminded you of the rocky seashore you used to visit every summer with your parents when you were little.

It sent a shiver down your spine, had it always had that effect?

You then reconsidered his wording, Us? Your eyes shifted to his right, and there you were met with an even more surprising sight.

Sirius Black stood with one hand in his pocket, and the other clenching James Potter's invisibility cloak.

"Of course." You thought.

He stood with an air of relaxation like he always did. His annoyingly beautiful face was drawn in mirth, though far more sheening than Remus'.

His brows were raised, and his eyes regarded your appearance with what could only be described as mischief, as a feathery strand of his rebellious raven hair dipped between his eyes.

He winked at you after you had seemed to stare for a little too long, causing you to snap out of your bewilderment, and look back to Remus, who remained rooted in the same spot looking at you expectantly.

You nodded at him, holding his gaze, which seemed far too intense for a boy his age. For whatever reason, he nodded back.

He removed his hand, and just as he did, you swatted it away and stepped back.

"What in Merlin's name are you both doing here?! You scared the hell out of me!" You whisper-shouted at the pair. The two boys smiled youthfully at you in response.

Sirius finally swaggered forward, and past you, not refraining from brushing against you as he did. He turned and plopped down on your bed, discarding James' cloak next to him.

In his natural air of arrogance, he leaned back on his palms and lolled his head to the side, grinning up at you.

"We thought our girl could use some company, didn't we Moony?"

Against your better judgment, you rolled your eyes and swayed to look at Remus, who remained smiling down at you.

Annoyingly, a smile of your own made its way onto your face.

It was no secret that out of the group you, Sirius, and Remus were close in a way that the others weren't.

I mean, of course, the boys, and you and the girls would always be close in your respective ways, but for some reason, you three just seemed to click in a weird, and almost perfect way.

It wasn't like they called any other girl in the friend group "their girl", and it wasn't like you'd go through the animagus process for just anyone.

Remus bit his tongue, his eyes flickered from Sirius', and back to yours before he nodded once more.

Suddenly, he pulled his wand from his pocket and lit a candle on a bedside table across the room, so that your wand could be lowered and placed gingerly in the pocket of your nightgown.

As he returned his wand to his pocket all the same, he stepped forward and took both your hands in his own, swinging them back and forth idly, "Yeah, that and we wanted to apologize again for being the reason you're in here in the first place."

"Even though it was James' idea to begin with!" Sirius' voice beckoned from behind you.

Remus shot him a glare over your head before looking back down at you and rolling his eyes, swiping his thumb gently across the back of your hand, "Yes," he droned begrudgingly, "even though."

You bit your bottom lip while grinning in an attempt to conceal the laughter rising in your throat.

You released one of his hands, still gripping the other as you spun yourself around and face Sirius, who was now sitting cross-legged on the bed.

You couldn't help the content sigh that escaped your lips as you regarded the look of merriment and genuineness that graced Sirius' face.

You took turns looking between both boys before saying, "Consider yourselves forgiven, though I have a feeling that wasn't the only thing you came for."

"You'd be right to assume, Lovebug," Remus responded. Another thing, there wasn't a soul on the planet save for Remus and Sirius who called you Lovebug.

It was a title fashioned for your romantic tendencies, and it suited you quite well.

Sirius suddenly hopped to a stand, before taking his wand to poke the sleeping boy's foot ever so slightly, "We are taking you to the astronomy tower, to watch the crescent moon." He said nonchalantly, you scoffed in disbelief.

"Right now? But Sirius I'm in a bloody nightgown, not to mention barefoot, and all my things-"

You were cut off by Remus, whose arms had suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, "Relax darling, we'll have you back before the sun rises, maybe we'll even take your things and you back to the dorm where you belong."

You chuffed, "But-"

"As for the nightgown and lack of shoes, we can assure you, love, you look absolutely smashing in it, and have cute enough feet for it not to be too grotesque." Sirius winked.

You sighed and tried to ignore the light blush that settled across your cheeks, drowned out by the darkness.

You groaned petulantly like a child as you struggled to come up with a counterpoint, and leaned into Remus' lankily muscular build.

"C'mon Darling, it's your favorite moon cycle, and we know you must be bored to tears."

You froze as Remus' smooth voice resonated against the shell of your ear, his breath fanning over you slightly.

It was then you became aware of just how dipped in his scent you were, it completely engulfed you, the smell of pinewood, candle wax, and parchment.

You cleared your throat, before Sirius interjected once more, "Evidently, by the literary devices she's turned to to cope."

Your eyes widened, as your headshot over to Sirius, who had now grabbed and held the parchment you had forgotten you left on your bed.

His hair created a curtain around his face as he leaned over to read it, still though you could make out the shit-eating grin on his face as he did so.

"Dear Callum, I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from at the moment, but I'm sorry I got bored of you-" He read aloud in a high-pitched voice before he broke down into laughter.

You wrenched out of Remus' hold before surging forward and snatching the paper from his hand and shoving him slightly.

"Give me that you oaf!" You hissed lowly.

He snicked and pulled you into a hug, "Oh come now, you know I'm only joking lovely, please don't leave me! I promise never to bore you!" He sang, you elbowed him in rebuttal.

"Alright, fine! FINE! I will go, will you stop it now?!" You snapped, his laughter eventually died down as he hummed and looked down at you.

You craned your neck to meet his gaze, "Ah, knew you'd come around Lovebug, right then off we go!" He announced before spinning you and setting you down on the ground.

You watched as he practically skipped over to Remus, before grabbing the boy by the jaw and pulling him into a simple kiss.

Yet another symbol of your closeness, you were one of the only ones who knew that the two were more than just friends.

Remus hummed before returning the kiss and pulling away.

Sirius leaned into his neck, "Told you she'd come around Moony."

Remus licked his lips and gave you a half-lidded once over, not even he could contain the dim beam that spread across his face.

"Course she did, she's our girl after all." He mused.

In an instant, the smile dropped from your face.

It was then, for the first time in a long time, you felt something. Like a punch in the gut, one that you knew familiarly, but not to this extent.

The air in your lungs seemed to leave you all at once, as a cold hotness spread over you.

Your vision began to tunnel, as your ears filled with wind, and you became all too aware of the sweat that coated your palms.

"No," you thought, "no way."

Your heartbeat quickened, and you desperately hoped that with Remus' advanced senses, he couldn't hear it.

There was no way this was happening, not to you, not right now.

It was such a simple sentence, one you were sure he and Sirius had uttered to you before, so why did it ignite this feeling in you?

Why, did you have to have such a reaction, and why now?

You wiped the sweat that sprouted from your palms on your nightgown and could feel some new form on the nape of your neck.

It felt as though the air of comfortability from earlier had evaporated, replaced with a thick blanket of awkwardness and anxiety, at least on your part.

The boys you had leaned into so carelessly before, had now become the two people you wanted to be furthest from.

You knew this feeling, you knew what it was, and normally, you'd welcome it like an old friend. But not this time, not for them.

Why, did it have to be them?

"(Y/N)" Sirius' question shook you from your state of silent panic. You blinked and swallowed a thick glob of your saliva.

"Yeah?" Your voice was far less even than it had been a second ago, it wavered and shook much without you meaning it to.

The boys looked at you with confusion drawn over their expressions, "You ready to go?" Remus said as if you were some dimwitted puppy.

Your eyelids flickered, and you took a deep breath. "Yeah, sorry, I just zoned out, must be the after-effects of the potion." You lied through your teeth.

They nodded at you, still seeming suspicious of your behavior but not questioning the matter further.

Each boy extended a hand, and you almost let out a shattered sigh as you slowly stepped forward and took each hand in your own.

As you three began walking to the door, and you plastered a smile on your face, you began to hear your voice screaming inside your head.

In an instant, you knew what you had done.

You'd just gone and fallen in love with two boys you knew you couldn't have.

That exchange had transpired a week ago, and ever since then, you'd been spiraling.

You felt hot tears gather in your eyes as you recounted it redundantly. In your mind, there were layers to how fucked up this was.

You can't like two people at once, that's utterly selfish. You berated yourself, especially since those two people are dating each other, not to mention two boys! Not to mention even more two boys that just so happen to be your best friends!

You groaned as you rubbed your temples, blinking back the tears.

Any logical, normal person would've taken the high road, and just silently waited until this infatuation passed.

But as you were reminded incessantly, you were the furthest from logical, or normal.

The longer you lingered with this knowledge, the more unbearable it became.

Every moment you spent trying not to think about Sirius or Remus, was another moment in which your little crush turned into a full-blown obsession.

At first, you had resigned to pretending as if nothing was amiss, forcing smiles and hoping they couldn't tell. But every day you felt your resolve weakening, and so as of today, you had completely avoided them at all costs.

Then, you just had to let your friends drag you to that stupid quidditch match.

You had managed to sit as far from Remus as possible and tried to push through through the awkwardness, which worked for awhile, and then the world had to go and give you another slap in the face.

After James had caught the snitch, you were dealt the misfortune of locking eyes with Sirius, who, high on excitement as he was, decided to beam at you, and blow you a fucking kiss.

Damn Sirius Black for being the natural flirt he was, and damn his stupidly perfect face.

You knew in hindsight it was just Sirius being Sirius, he was head over heels for Remus.

It's not like he knew how much he made your heart flutter from that simple act alone.

But the side effects of it were damning, and whilst you got by with averting eye contact and keeping to yourself for the walk back to the castle, you refused to risk a much more obvious reaction given the boys pull anything else.

You sighed, again, as you shut your eyes and listened to the last lyric that played from your vinyl.

Et, dès que je l'apercois, alors je sens en moiI, mon coeur qui bat...

You bit the inside of your cottoned mouth, and gulped sending a sting down your dry throat.

Your favorite song was beginning to sound like torture every time you translated its meaning in your head.

Yes, you thought bitterly, I see life through rose-colored glasses, and look where that's got me now.

Finally, you opened your eyes. God, your side of the dorm was a mess, Lily was going to kill you.

Not that it wouldn't be deserved, you shot at yourself.

With all the remaining strength in your body, you pushed yourself off your bed. The needle on your record player had finally reached the center of the vinyl, meaning it was time for you to get up and move it again.

As your feet landed on the cold floor, you winced, rolling your ankles to re-attune your body to movement.

After a moment you stood, not missing the blackness that pinched at your view from your lightheaded state. You began to walk across the room, ignoring the cries that sounded from your locked joints.

Your brain felt fuzzy, and your movements were reduced to emotionless and empty.

You stopped in front of the table on which your record player sat, and lifted a weak, trembling hand to the needle.

And as you picked up, and moved it to the edge, allowing the song to replay once more, you heard the startling sound of the door creaking open.

You didn't bother to look at her, instead, you closed your eyes and inhaled in preparation for what was to come.

"Godrick, (Y/N) the room's a mess, what have you been doing all this time?!"

Lily's maternal croon should've at least offered a morsel of comfort, and yet, all it did was cause more tears to sting the corners of your eyes.

Your ears filled with ocean sounds as Lily began to parade around the room, picking up all your discarded articles of clothing, too lost in her own ramblings to notice the air of gloom that hung over you.

You bit your lip as you shut your eyes tightly, trying desperately to keep any more tears from running freely down your rosy cheeks.

Lily had this way about her, she was too comforting, too emotion-invoking.

You wished she would've just stayed downstairs for one more hour, at least then you would've more had time to collect yourself.

But she didn't, she was here, and she was going to witness you in the state that you were; raw, terrified, and utterly humiliated.

Your mind had turned into a wind tunnel of thoughts and feelings, preventing you from noticing how Lily had halted her movements and slighted her gaze to your now shaking form.

"(Y/N)? Lovie? Are you alright?"

You opened your eyes and looked up at the ceiling for one moment, teeth biting down harder on your trembling lip.

Finally, you turned and met her head-on.

Lily gasped in spite of herself, "Oh, Y/N." she whispered, brows stitched in worry, emerald eyes widening.

Before you could blink, she was on you. Lean arms enclosing your figure, one placed comfortingly behind your head, the other wrapped around your waist.

"Darling, what's happened?" Her soft voice resonated in your ear.

You couldn't bring yourself to respond, burrowing your head in her shoulder, shaking it slightly.

Your arms had returned the embrace tenfold, hands grasping her sweater tightly like she was the only thing in the universe holding you together at that moment.

Before you could stop yourself, soft hiccups began to escape you, and it was then, as Lily pulled away and began to wipe at the wetness under your eyes, you realized, you had to tell her.

You allowed yourself to be guided to her side of the room and sat down on her plush, quilted bed.

Blinking through tears you tried to focus on Lilly's concerned face, as she pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and took your hand.

"Y/N, please, tell me what's the matter." Lily begged quietly as she smoothed her thumb over the back of your hand.

The moonlight from the window above her bed was nearly the only thing that illuminated the space around you, sheening on your variability, and exposing your flaws.

Your eyes flickered as you took a deep breath and attempted to collect your thoughts, and organize them into something, anything, clear enough to be spoken aloud.

"I..." Your voice quietly resonated, coarse and croaky from hours of wailing and weeping. You fought against the tightness in your throat, encouraged by Lily's soft eyes, and comforting presence.

After a moment, you cleared your throat and tried again.

You began with a sigh, focusing on the way Lily smelled of vanilla, allowing her scent to calm your flurrying mind.

"Lily," you said, much quieter this time, "I've done something terrible."

Lily's brows furrowed once more, in confusion this time. "What can you mean?" she replied, ever inquisitive and eager.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly, here it goes.

You gripped her hand like it was your lifeline, "I've..." you paused.

"I've fallen in love again."

Quiet settled over the room, blanketing the two girls.

Lily blinked, face going blank.

Before she could stop herself, a snort escaped from her mouth. Her demeanor of worry was now replaced with one of disbelief and wry amusement.

"You must be joking, seriously (Y/N)? That's all this is about? another silly little fling?" She teased, now finding this entire situation utterly ironic.

You huffed, frustration becoming your face. "No," You interjected, voice strained and tight.

"It's not- God, it's not that I've fallen in love again, it's with who!"

Lily raised a brow, squinting, lip quirking. "Right then," she teased, "Tell me, who is the soul lucky enough to hold your affections?"

You were glaring and lifting yourself off the bed in an instant. Bitterness bitting at your tongue.

"Forget it." You bit.

Lily sighed and grasped your hand before you could get even two steps. "(Y/N)," she groaned in defeat, feeling instant guilt as more tears glided down your chin.

"I'm sorry, that was cruel of me. You can tell me, and I won't make fun of you."

You eyed the redhead suspiciously, "Promise?" You quipped. Lily smiled, "Promise."

You bit the inside of your cheek and returned to your spot on the bed.

You huffed and picked away at some of the skin around your fingernails anxiously. "You really promise not to judge?" you mumbled, looking up at her through your wet lashes.

Lily nodded, "I promise lovie, you can tell me." her smile was the reassurance you needed, but it didn't lessen the ache in your heart.

You shut your eyes, annoyed at the feeling of more tears gushing down your neck.

You covered your face in your palms, before admitting out loud the confession you'd been reckoning with for days.

"I fucked up," you said through tears as you lifted your eyes to meet Lily's, "I've fallen in love with Remus Lupin," you watched Lily's eyes turn into saucers, "And, Sirius fucking Black."

In any other situation, you would've laughed at how Lily's jaw fell open, but this was no laughing matter. Her hand flew to hover above her mouth, and for the first time in all that you've known her, Lily Evans had been rendered speechless.

And you, were growing more anxious by the moment. Tears were now fully cascading down your face, sobs and hiccups wrenching from your throat.

"Say something!" You begged, her silence was making you feel worse by the second.

Lily jumped, broken out of her state of shock. She closed and open her mouth, trying to find the right words, before she so eloquently settled on,

"Merlin's fuck, (Y/N)."

You cried harder if that was even possible.

"I know, I know, it's horrible isn't it?" You whined.

After a week of keeping this all bottled up, it was now all coming crashing down on you.

You felt your heart ripping at the seams, in such a short period of time, these boys had suddenly had the most magnifying attraction you had felt.

You felt so utterly stupid, had you always liked them? Did it just so happen that that fateful night was your moment of realization?

Either way, neither explanation lessened your suffocating distress.

As you let your head fall into your hands, Lily grabbed your shoulders, rubbing them up and down encouragingly.

"Well, I won't lie to you sweetheart, it doesn't look amazing." She winced, resolving to pull your sobbing body to hers, wrapping her arms around you once more.

Lily knew the weight of this situation, because she knew Remus and Sirius, more especially, the relationship the two shared.

"When did you find this out?" She asked softly.

You sniffed, "A week ago, I think? Oh Merlin, maybe I've always known but was never ready to admit it to myself."

Lily sighed thoughtfully, before replying. "Well, do you want to tell them?"

You thought for a moment, before shaking your head in defeat.

"It's no use Lils, even in my wildest dreams, they're out of my reach. I can't have them, and the fact that I even want them makes me feel like the biggest arsehole in the world."

Lily stayed quiet as you continued your rant, allowing you to verbalize all the feelings that had been festering in your heart.

"Godrick, they're so perfect for each other, it's almost unreal. You've seen them together, they look as if they were made for each other. Not only that, but they fought so hard for the right to be together. And who the hell am I to come in here and even consider ruining that? I must be the most selfish girl in the world."

You felt your heart break a little more with each word, but you couldn't stop yourself, you had to let these thoughts surface.

"They trusted me," you sobbed, "every deep, grimy secret that they had no obligation to share, they trusted me enough to tell. All they've ever wanted from me was a friend, someone to be their home, and now I've gone and ruined it."

"You don't know that-" Lily tried, but you interrupted before she could even finish the sentence.

"Yes, I do! You know how I get Lily, even about simple crushes they become all I can think about. I will not be able to stop thinking about them, and every single time they feel comfortable enough to be affectionate in front of me, I'll break all over again."

Finally, you paused and took a deep breath.

"There is absolutely no situation in which this can turn out alright for me."

Lily felt her heartache for you as she assessed the sheer pain in your voice.

However, this situation was difficult, because she had to consider Remus and Sirius' well-being too.

She tapped a finger on the bare skin of your arm. "You know what I think?" She finally said.

You lifted your head and met her calculating eyes with your own. "What?" you asked pathetically.

Lily rotated her jaw, "I think, that this situation is much bigger than you or I, so before we go making blind assumptions, we need to let Remus and Sirius speak for themselves."

She paused, "(Y/N), I know you're scared, but you have to tell them."

You inhaled deeply, eyes flickering with fear.

You were scared, terrified actually. But, the more you thought about it, the more you realized what you had known all this time.

Lily was right, they needed to know.

You couldn't just disappear from their lives without giving them a floor to speak their peace, it wasn't right.

Doing that, you decided, would truly be the cruelest thing you could possibly do.

You huffed, before blinking away the last of your tears and taking a moment to wipe the mess off your face.

Lily sat and watched you as you began to collect yourself, leaning on her own arm for support.

After a moment, when you felt as though you were moderately put together, you shook your hands out and breathed deeply for that last time.

You looked to Lily, there were still a million questions you wished could be answered, but for tonight, as you checked the clock and saw it was coming up on 1:00 A.M., you settled for just one.

"Do you think they realize I've been avoiding them?" You cringed.

Lily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

"(Y/N) (L/N), you open this door right now, or so help me Merlin, I will blow it down!" Sirius' muffled yell sounded from the other side of the aged wood.

Then, Remus chimed in. "You know he'll do it love, so there's no use in fighting."

You froze, and for a moment as Lily's expression turned into that of a deer in headlights, you thought maybe the whole universe froze with you.

Your blood ran cold as they continued raving about their usual nonsense, and as you saw the door handle rattle, you and Lily finally spoke in unison.

"Oh, fuck."

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stayconnecteed · 10 months ago

Text

🪐˓⠀˚⠀memories⠀@⠀hwang hyunjin.

synopsis: you were in love, until you weren't anymore. or maybe you still were, but chose to learn not to be just to heal from all that meant falling in love with him.

SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀2.7k words. ⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀join taglist.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀plot ★ the point of view of hyunjin after your break up. i would say angst but at the end it kind of good. reader and hyunjin don't end up together tho.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀warnings ★ think of this as a beautiful relationship that turned slightly toxic, hyunjin was very very whipped for reader, the format is like a letter to you he never sent.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀author's note ★ tbh idk what is this. i don't even know how to categorize it, i felt kinda sad and started writing, and i thought on sharing it here. i wrote this listening to hannah bahng's cover of memories by conan gray, one of my favourite audios in the world.

excerpts from hwang hyunjin's diary over a year after the break up.

September 6th

Yesterday I walked by that coffee shop you liked to go to so much, at the end of the street where you used to work, the one with the navy couches and old photographs hanging on the wall. It's now closed. On the notice taped to the door it says that it is for sale, that they were very sorry but they decided to go out of business because they could no longer afford the expense, to call the phone number listed there if you were interested in buying it. And I did. Call, I mean. I had that urge to buy it, because it reminded me of you, because I knew you would like it. I listened for two rings and then hung up. The couches were purple. I saw it, even though the glass was full of dust, and I don't know anymore if they had been navy from the beginning or you had convinced me of it, but at that moment I saw them purple, and the magic was gone again. I guess it doesn't matter now. It had been a while since I had been here, maybe they had to change them. To see if they could attract more customers, as you always joked with the owner. That's why you liked the place, right? It was quiet. Peaceful. You could barely hear the music in the background or the murmur of the street, and as much as you adored their coffee, we both knew it was doomed to have an end. Like us, I suppose. You were always drawn to lost causes.

That's why I called you. I think you had blocked my contact, but it didn't hurt to try. I thought about everything we had shared. On my way to the apartment I live in now I bought those noodles you liked so much, and the ice cream we had every time there was something to celebrate. The TV was playing one of those movies from the 2000s that we watched over and over again on Friday nights, even though we had already seen them, just because I loved that look on your face you had when you did something you were apssionate about. It seemed like a hoax. For a moment it seemed as if I could touch you, as if by reaching across the fabric of the couch you were going to be there, on the other end, waiting for me to finish dinner so you could snuggle up next to me. I guess it was one of those days, wasn't it? Those when you stop pretending that everything is okay, even though nothing was wrong, and let sadness win you over.

I don't actually think I'm sad, though. Not really. Just… nostalgic. I miss what we had. I miss you. Not in the unhealthy way I did in the beginning, when we decided to split up and I instantly regretted it. It's more of a warm, bittersweet memory that creeps up on me from time to time. Your smile, so beautiful and bright, how soft your hair was when you rested your head on my lap and I couldn't stop caressing it, how your hand felt against mine as we entwined them, the hurried way your heart pounded under my lips as I kissed your skin, how I felt your chest vibrate as I fell asleep on top you in the middle of a conversation… Now that I think about it, I think I've forgotten your voice. The temptation to search for old audios is too strong, but I'm afraid to find out what I would really feel if I get to hear you.

I have seen pictures. I have too many, so looking for them was not a big problem. I keep them on that hard drive you gave me when you got tired of watching me stress out because I thought I had lost flash drives that had never left my desk. In it is my favorite folder, the one with all the captured moments that reflected that side of you that you didn't let anyone else see. The ones I took of you when you didn't realize it, with your hair disheveled on our bed, your bare back contrasting with the sheets, still asleep; or playing with Kkami in the park, running next to her, with your scarf tangling in the wind and your smile brighter than ever. Those for which you did pose, with amused expressions and seductive glances, with our friends and in the intimacy of our home, those you approved of after I showed them to you, acknowledging with an embarrassed blush that you did look pretty, and also those you couldn't even see, your mind betraying you by making you see so many flaws that you thought you were drowning in them, so many defects I was unable to see.

It's the first time that the sight of you didn't make my heart tear apart. Each new file I opened was a memory that I could bring back to life, at least for a few minutes, moments that I treasured fondly, and that finally made me smile. Can you believe it? Me, who so many times left voice messages begging you to come back, who had to stay at home for weeks after breaking up because visualizing a life without you by my side made me want to die, the person who every time they saw something that reminded them of you would burst into tears, feeling the loss of your presence like the shadow of death, was finally enjoying those memories that included you.

You'll be happy to know that I'm starting to draw again too. I had thrown away all my art supplies when I moved, and I have all my paintings locked away, but the other day I stopped by the store I used to go to and bought a sketchbook. I didn't intend to do anything with it, I just wanted to run my hand over the pages again, just like I used to do before starting a new project. As soon as Felix found out, he bought me new watercolors and pencils. You know how he is, the first to cheer every time something good happens to you. He celebrates your victories as if they were his own. I guess that's what this is, isn't it? A victory. I've managed to win against the ghost of our past, and my reward is a nice charcoal sketch of a tulip. It's not my best work, but for the moment it works for me. Little by little, with training wheels.

November 24th

I would like to know how you are doing. Changbin hyung told me that you finally moved in, just like me. I guess every little corner of the apartment reminded you of me. I wouldn't have lasted long there either. You hardly talk to the rest of the guys, and it makes me wonder if you were really happy with me. When I met you you had your own group of friends, but you stopped talking to them to the point that all we knew were my friends, and each other. That was probably one of the reasons you encouraged me to break up. It wasn't healthy, was it? I find it pathetic that I realize it now, so many months later, although it was pathetic even then, with how desperately in love I was with you. I tend to get so lost in my feelings that I forget everything else. Sometimes, "everything else" is often more important than what's going on in my head, and in my heart, because in the end, thoughts are just thoughts. I wonder if Changbin hyung would tell me if you were having a hard time. You know that after what we went through together, I would come in an instant if you called me. Some things don't change. You can separate us, but you can't ignore what once existed. And I like to think you feel the same way.

I know you have a boyfriend. I've seen you around town, walking hand in hand, just like we used to do. I thought about waving, approaching you and introducing myself to the lucky man who can call you his, but cowardice gets the better of me. I don't want to make a fool of myself. You've always been sharp with words, and the last time we met was humiliating enough. I'm not talking about the last time we spoke, but when we met. That afternoon when Chan accompanied me to collect the boxes that were left in what had been our home, my name written in that chaotic handwriting you have, set aside in the entryway. We looked at each other in silence when you opened the door, and I never knew how I had the strength not to burst into tears. What I wanted most of all was to take refuge in your arms and for you to tell me that everything was going to be all right. Did you feel it? That pain? You always noticed it at first, it was almost unnatural the way my chest began to open with grief, as if my own heart was crying tears of blood.

You felt it too, I'm sure. That's why you looked away. That's why you didn't open your mouth except to wish me well. I remember thinking that it wasn't fair that it was going to end like this, that I didn't understand why it had to end at all. We were doing great. True, we argued, as all couples do, and not even that often, or that we were somewhat possessive of each other. But it was okay, wasn't it? It meant that I cared about you. That you loved me. That we would rather be with each other than with anyone else. But you looked away, and I shut my mouth, and I didn't have time to memorize you before I left. Even after calling you for days, when you finally picked up the phone and begged me to stop, even then I couldn't catch the exact tone of the words you had used to keep them in my memory forever. And now you're gone, and I'd like to think I don't care as much as I used to, but sometimes a person's absence is more present than the people you have sitting next to you. And it hurts more than the worst wound, because you crave something you can't have.

I guess we were destined to end up together and end up apart. It was impossible for us not to have fallen in love when you approached me in that library, with the book I was looking for in your hand, just as we were bound to untangle ourselves after a while, having to suffer through the process of accepting that everything we had built was falling apart. We both knew it, and came to accept it in the haze of those who have just found their soulmate, but only you were smart enough to see it coming and protect yourself, leaving me as the only victim. And worst of all, I know that had never been your intention, that you would never have hurt me on purpose. But I was doing it to you, and you decided to be selfish, pushing me away so you could move on. And after all I can't hate you, I can't even stop loving you, because you became so blended with my soul that removing you would be like taking away an essential part of what makes me being me.

That's my problem, isn't it? I live it all so intensely… It's exhausting. When someone loses the person they thought was going to be the one, they usually console themselves with the thought that they weren't the one. But I can't indulge myself, I don't deserve that consolation, because we were meant to be. Maybe not to last a lifetime, but for the little bit we got to share. I have had to say goodbye to you, to see you become a stranger, but the people we were when we were together are still alive, in some space of our memory, like a story written by both of us, one in which we each have our favorite chapters, and to which we know we can come back whenever we want, to remember each other. I know that at some point in my future I will be able to open that book and read any page and it will no longer hurt, that I will savor every word with a smile on my lips, the smile of someone who knows that while it lasted, I made the most of every single second. And I know that future is closer than far away.

January 15st

I have stopped counting the days since we broke up. I feel like I'm getting better, I know I am. Yesterday I went out with Seungmin and Jeongin for a walk, and I took my old camera with me, after so long. My hands no longer shake when I hold it. They started goofing around, and playing among the trees in the park with Kkami, and it didn't hurt me to say that was something you used to do. I told it as an offhand comment, as if I were telling them about what I had eaten the day before. Now you are just another memory in my mind, floating among the gray matter of moments in my life. You no longer hurt, you no longer harm.

On the way to the dance studio last week, the driver drove past that coffee shop. I don't know if you'll have time to go now that you're so busy with your new life, and anyway I guess coffee doesn't suit you as well as it used to, but someone bought it. And it's still a coffee shop. I went today morning, and I felt better than I have in a long time. The new owners have done an awesome job, and business is running smoothly. In the hour and a half I sat at one of the tables in the back, more customers came in than I've seen in all the years we've been together. The iced americano is delicious, and the atmosphere relaxes me enough to doodle in the margins of my lyrics notebook.

I feel attached to this place, somehow. You found us, and made us feel special. During the time we enjoyed your company, and your trust and love, we were fully happy. When you left us, we had a terrible time, letting our inner selves shut down, refusing affection or help. But now we are doing well. We've gotten over that rough patch, we try to look out for ourselves, we smile at life. And the couches are maroon. I asked the barista, who is one of the people who came up with the new design. I didn't want to find out what the original color had been, that will be something I'll never get to know, I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. It was fun when we would go and spend minutes arguing about the exact shade. But now they're maroon. And I like that color.

I was in love with you. I know you heard me say it that night I came home drunk, when I chose to pretend you were asleep and told you how you truly made me feel. I didn't fall in love with you, I ran to you knowing full well that I was going to love you with all my being, full of devotion and ready to end up devastated by you, but I guess it wasn't enough. Now that I have slowly learned to forget you I know that in all possible scenarios we would have ended up the same way. We were so obsessed with each other that we didn't realize we were consuming each other, but that's okay. Not everything is timeless, nothing lasts forever. The important thing is not to regret your memories, and I don't regret a single moment by your side.

#﹙ ★ ﹚ mars — writes.#stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin angst #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader

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jiminrings · 2 years ago

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478 request - i wanna see oc grovel in some way tbh🤔 (tl set after part 3) probs jungkook getting upset with how close she is with yoongi like the touching and the "flirting" cause most of what we see is jungkooks faults and i wanna see some of ocs😁 [HAPPY ENDING THO... a cute cuddle and stuff]

478: drabble

alternatively, jungkook attempts to give you the silent treatment :(

[ 478 masterlist ]

It’s not that Jungkook wants to pick a fight with you.

It’s not that he wants to pull Yoongi by the hair to pry him off you, of course not. It’s also not that he feels the need to remind you every single second to wear your wedding ring when you’re not working, because these days, you seem perfectly fine (and don’t feel the raging discomfort when he doesn’t wear his) without the band on your finger.

It’s not like Jungkook hasn’t tried keeping his mouth shut either; to clench his jaw just to keep the snarky remark to himself as he wants to be as rational as he could.

He’s trying to digest the sight of you and Yoongi being this close every single time but he could only take so much, his breaking point seeing the lunchbox that he packed for you (and woke up early to prepare) barely even touched — all because Yoongi took you out for lunch between tapings.

“So that fake dating contract didn’t push through between you and Yoongi, right?” Jungkook asks all of a sudden, looking up at you from the lunchbox that his eyes burn through.

“Yup. Thank god, right?” you joke, looking for your pajamas from the pile of laundry that Jungkook folded while you were out working.

It’s the Yoongi thing and this little, little mistake you do when you accidentally topple over his pile of folded clothes just to search for a particular pair of pajamas. Jungkook knows it’s just a tiny accident and a little impulsive move on your part, and yet it makes his brain topple over, the last bit of security being unhinged.

“Right,” he smiles tightly, deciding he won’t do anything about the lunchbox and just leave it out open on the countertop. “Act like it then.”

“What?” your breathing hitches at the reply, eyes following your husband’s jerky movements in exiting the kitchen. “Excuse me?”

The way you sound so appalled makes Jungkook feel even smaller and more neglected than he did just mere minutes ago, biting his tongue when you ask for clarification.

He can’t hold out long enough to give you a silent treatment, but he tries anyway.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it’s supposed to mean?” he huffs, rolling his eyes when he walks past the laundry that he folded (and dedicated his time to to meticulously get them all done) while he resists the urge to grip at his hair in frustration.

“Don’t give me that tone,” you sneer.

“Don’t give me that attitude!” Jungkook replies just as annoyed, his eyes narrowed into slits.

You know the exhaustion of the day is getting to you when you finally snap, losing the little patience you had left. “Say what you want to say, Jungkook. Don’t act like this.”

“Like what? Upset? Can I not be upset anymore?” Jungkook exclaims, his mouth drying up when the obliviousness and frustration in your face are clear as daylight. “I can’t be upset because you’re all chummy a-and touchy with Yoongi?”

“That’s what best friends do, Jungkook!” you argue, crossing your arms. There’s this hint of iron in your tongue that tells you you’re not in the right this time, judging by the way your husband looks purely distraught.

“But you would always be more than a best friend in Yoongi’s eyes! Can’t you see that?” Jungkook contests, frantic eyes fixated on you until the fight leaves his body in one breath. “Fine. He’s moved on already or whatever he says, but what about your husband?” he purses his lips, balancing his weight on one foot. You’re too dazed to even register that the room behind Jungkook isn’t your shared one.

“What about me?”

It finally clicks in your head that there’s still the faint hurt lingering at the back of Jungkook’s head, the bit of insecurity that can’t be erased even if the two of you have reconciled already.

He’s still sensitive — after all, it hasn’t even been half a year since your momentary break, and the reminder that you almost weren’t his doesn’t help especially when you and Yoongi haven’t broken contact since.

“I’m sleeping in the guest room,” he quietly announces, slipping into the room without a hitch.

Jungkook can’t even remember when this room was last used by an actual guest or when the sheets were last changed, but he can’t bring himself to care — he just shuts down.

You can’t do the same when you’re left in the living room of your apartment that’s far too small to accompany two troubled hearts at once, the brunt of it being carried by you this time because you’re the one at fault.

You think of it when you save the lunch your husband made for you that you didn’t even eat, vowing silently that you’ll eat it for breakfast tomorrow.

You think of it when you haul the couple hundred clothes that Jungkook folded neatly for the both of you into your shared room (the same one you want him to be in), some of them messy because of the way you haphazardly stuck your hand in there just to look for your pajamas.

You think of the pain and you feel the longing wholly when you knock on the door to the guest bedroom even when it remains unlocked, your husband’s awake and disheveled state apparent even with the lights out.

“Come back to bed, please?” you weakly ask, the reply to it never reaching your ears. You trudge the short distance, your eyes downcast as you make up your mind when you climb the bed with him. “I’ll stay with you then.”

Jungkook doesn’t tense when you wrap an arm around him in an embrace with his back still turned to you, but he does falter when you press the most gentle of kisses on his nape.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I didn’t even think to put myself in your shoes,” you apologize. “I’ll make the boundaries even more clear with Yoongi, alright?” your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth, anxiously chewing on it. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It happens,” Jungkook weakly offers, his resolve fading slowly the tighter that you hold him.

“It shouldn’t,” you affirm, screwing your eyes shut in regret for not catching up sooner with Jungkook’s feelings. “Can you forgive me, Kook?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, head turning slightly to take a peek at you. You’re still embracing him tightly, rubbing small circles on his bicep as you mutter apologies under your breath. “I can, but I want to sulk a little longer.”

“Okay,” you confer, the hint of a smile on your face only materializing fully when your husband looks at you with growing warmth. “Should I grovel for a little longer then?”

Only then does your husband smile, nodding his head.

“Please.”

#478 drabbles #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario

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darknoverse · 2 months ago

Note

Hey I'm just curious about your ship with Vincent? The guy all purple I think's the name? I don't recall reading any lore for it (also I'm not really into his original universe) so uh wanna talk about it? I'm genuienly curious lol

yea his name is vincent kfgbfskdfn

ok soooo Lux Aeterna's whole premise is literally "superbatural being falls for a mortal cuz they have so much in common even tho he was their original target"

not gonna talk much either about the og verse cuz it aint THAT important to the ship plot ITSELF aside from a few bits btw lol

i haven't written much lore about em cuz i'm still trying to figure it out properly lmao but i can share what i have so far. ya see, Oingo (sona) is like, the kind of cryptic that's like, the shadows and sillhoettes you see in the corner of your eye at night. those hallucinations you aren't sure if they're real or not. except that she's 100% real. her whole reason of even being in a world full of mortal is plain chaos. similat to how people assumed bacl then that if you see a black cat/break a mirror/walk under a ladder you'll be jinxed. that's her whole concept. jinx that inevitably gets the target to be doomed sooner or later. she really doesn't value mortals lives much normally . but here's the thing every once in a long while she just gets attached to a random mortal with similar ideology . similar selfishness and uncaring for others ya know? and she sticks with them until well, they're just gone. cuz that's the PROBLEM of her effect, even if she gets attached they're eventually doomed no matter the situation. btw those are the ONLY people she properly interacts with face to face.

Vincent is one of those special cases where she just "oh ok you're cook ain't gonna instantly jinx you" BUT here's the thing, for all the other "special fellas" she's interacted with, all of them were more like friends or family to her, nothing too romantical . EXCEPT this loser lol so it's like, this ABSOLUTELY SHITTY feeling of pure guilt that no matter how much she tries to delay that "jinx" to finally hit , it'll happen eventually and it just eats her up alive for it. basically doomed relationship from the start but she can't just ignore and move on from it . like:

and like there's no way she can prevent that effect tbh but she can somehow control the aftermath (basically yada yada possibility of restless spirits)

sooooooooooooooooo there's this idk happy after all the angst???? ghist bf moment????????,,

ik it's cringe but i'm free and happy lol

also side note: please this is NOT william afton, i do NOT like william afton at all lmao, this is Vincent. there's a difference . so please if you're gonna reblog this or comment please don't refer to him as William and don't tag this as such .he really is a completely different character (also would be very appreciated if you don't tag the community too ) , hope y'all understand this <:3 dhfvdsdfvbgf also side side not i don't support Reborni;ca i just like their lore it's like public domain at this point

Taglist :

@candyheartedchy @berryshipbasket @radaverse

@tireddovahkiin @bloodhoundini

@lficanthaveloveiwantpower

@rexscanonwife @ree3942

@sunflawyer @artcomestolife

#darknoverse#art#digital art

#darknoverse #art #digital art #oc backstory #oingo #sona #vincent #selfshipping community #darkno talks #darkno asks #💜lux aeterna #oc x canon i guess??????#selfship

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arthuluart · 3 months ago

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Hiii - wanted to say first thing first I love your art style, it's so dynamic and fun and those color palettes? Stunning ^^

And second thing second, just some food for thought if you ever want to get angsty about Jerry and Dean, coffee by Chappell Roan sounds like it was written about their break up specifically and I can't stop thinking abt it dndnden

*Cue me losing my mind*

Hiii- they say flattery gets you everywhere and turns out with me, it gets you animatics- jkjk but I do appreciate the kind comments ^^

I’ll put up the animatic separately and take the opportunity to leave the preamble here to keep the video post neat bc until someone tells me to shut up and just post art- I’m gonna ramble… So here’s the commentary you didn’t ask for along with my favourite panels:

First off- You turned me into a big time Chappell Roan listener which is great bc I need music recs to fix my listening habits before Spotify wrapped drops. My roundup last year was shameful… Red Wine Supernova is my new dish washing song.

Even tho it’s not the song’s vibe I kept the content as silly as I could for my own sanity. I don’t love getting too deep into the serious/sad side of M+L for a few reasons but I do find it all very interesting. Point being this song was too good to pass up doing something a bit bigger for.

Ngl tho- this did have me pulling out hair at multiple points. I never colour animatics, rarely even tone them- but you mentioned colour palettes and I was determined to deliver so pardon the messy colouring but (that was the tradeoff) I did not have it in me to stay in the lines. I’m choosing to be kind to myself and opt to call it an artistic choice and not midway burnout. And nothing was gonna get me to open after effects/premiere not even the janky ass golf ball OML this only makes sense if u watch the video.

There are parts of this I’m SO happy with and others I hate. I think it’s really obvious which sections I started losing steam on but overall I lowkey like the end product. Nothing I make will ever be good/perfect- this was one hell of a practice in accepting that lmao- but I can still be ok with the work problems and all yknow? I very nearly shelved this completely bc I got so worked up about the maybe 5 panels I dislike out of 106 total. Counting them was eye opening to ask myself: you’re gonna let that small a ratio stop you from sharing this after putting in days and days of effort? The insecurity goes deep and TBH getting asks has been a nice way of working through it since I post the art I make for answers no matter what only bc I KNOW someone out there wants to see it. It might not sound it but it’s actually quite positive.

Also, although I feel I’ve done my fair share of reading, I’m no expert. So if anything is really off point- sorry my bad (I won’t fix it tho bc I cannot physically stand to look at this another second lol)

I tried to stick to real things found in articles/books/photos/interviews etc bc outside of obviously fictional AUs I’m not super into making stuff up about them (and who needs to I mean the legit stuff is already insane enough) Sure I framed the events in specific ways to suit the song and some aspects are fictionalized (mainly bc the referenced written accounts lacked detail to draw 100% faithfully from anyhow) but otherwise I got my sources cited.

ANYWAYS… sorry for hijacking this answer I need to learn to chill out. Irl I’m a pretty reserved talker so you can tell I’m in a comfy place when I let loose and blather on endlessly lmao brevity is not a skill I possess.

You were probably expecting illustrations or smth but I hope what I came up with is still somewhat alright AND please don’t let my complaining fool you, I genuinely loved making this.

One FINAL Relevant Note: the line “nowhere else is safe every place leads back to your place” is gut wrenching. You’re so right about this song perfectly describing the break up. They always came back to each other and there’s something so devastating about that kind of haunting human connection.

OkAY I’m done promise- I thought I’d implode if I didn’t get all that out

#martin and lewis #ask

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melverie · 9 months ago

Text

⸺ LESSON 2 ⸺

Solomon

Barbatos

Solomon & Barbatos

demons & angels (& humans)

strange feelings & soup

misc

- lesson 1 || lesson 3 || all posts so far -

Please share your thoughts (if you want to lol)!! General spoiler warning for all of Obey Me Nightbringer, as well as for the original Obey Me

⸺ SOLOMON ⸺

Solomon essentially is the reason Leviathan got tot keep Henry 1.0 since Solomon is the one who shrunk him [2-1]

he's also the one who--completely unprompted--brought up Cerberus' existence and that taming him would grant you the title of 'Ruler of the Underworld' [2-1; pic below], which we know the brothers to hold by the time of the OG -> interesting how Solomon basically sets up the events in a way that allows them to eventually play out like they did in the future tho. Iirc we see it happen a few more times throughout the story

happened in 1-12 as well, but Solomon once again talks about the people around you not remembering who you are and how that hurts [2-3]. Not sure if this is him empathizing with MC or if this is alluding to something else... -> he also hopes that MC and the brothers will grow closer again soon [2-3]

Solomon switches to his human world look [2-9 + lesson 2 hard mode]

⸺ BARBATOS ⸺

Barbatos doesn't seem to know who MC is upon their first meeting [2-13]

he also seems surprised when he learns that MC is Solomon's apprentice [2-13], though I'm probably reading too much into this

he gives MC and Mammon the job at the castle regardless if they get any of the questions right or not [2-15]. Tbh it's probably just to keep the plot moving, but I'm slightly suspicious of him regardless...

⸺ DEMONS & ANGELS (& HUMANS) ⸺

more instances mentioned of the brothers being cast out because they are fallen angels [2-6]

Cerberus is also known in the Celestial Realm [2-8; pic below]

Mammon gives us a few insights into how being a guardian angels as well as forging pacts works [2-9; pic below]

Few things I want to point out here:

1. "To a demon, makin' a pact is like handing over control of your life to someone else, right?" Not entirely true. While the demon does give up a certain amount of control over themself to the human they've forged a pact with, there are certain limitations, such as:

you use a substantial amount of magical power while controlling several demons at once, so by that logic you probably also need some when commanding just one demon. Additionally, you might mot be able to command one in the first place if you have little to no magical power in the first place

you need to keep a clear head when giving a command, otherwise the demon can just break free from its hold. We see this at the end of season 2 when Lucifer is not affected by the 'stay' command because MC isn't thinking clearly

demons aren't forced to act out commands that go against their pact(s). Beel explains this back in the OG's season 1 when Luke accidentally gets ahold of the brothers' grimoire

2. "It's pretty much the same as when an angel decides to be a guardian to a human." Does that imply angels hand over control over themselves when becoming a guardian angel? Interesting 3. "An angel's only gonna pick one person to protect, and that's it. Just one, for all time." MC's just keeping all the guardian angels for themself then since Luke and Simeon have both expressed the desire to be MC's guardian angels, and I'm pretty sure Raphael is eventually going to follow suit lol

⸺ SOLOMON & BARBATOS ⸺

the second Solomon is mentioned Barbatos makes it very clear that he is absolutely not fond of him. Mammon points out that he finds Barbatos reaction a little strange since they have a pact and whatnot, but Barbatos dismisses it [2-13] -> side note but I just remembered how surprised Diavolo was when he heard MC was Solomon's apprentice. Then there's also that one throwaway line in the OG of Solomon's apprentice betraying him. I really hope those things don't have anything to do with each other tho...

⸺ STRANGE FEELINGS & SOUP ⸺

Solomon points out that the bonds MC shares with the others extend across time [2-3]. All hail the Time Soup!

Mammon already has feelings for MC [2-9] but we also know how fast he fell for MC in the OG, so it's not really all that unusal

this has happened in 1-12 as well [first pic below], but the word 'present' is once again written in quotation marks [lesson 2 hard mode; second pic below]. Might be because of the entire time soup thing, but it's weird nonetheless

⸺ MISC ⸺

Levi would love you if you were a worm 💖 [2-1]

the brothers' qualities as Avatars are starting to manifest more and more [2-A]. Not sure if this is meant to say that it took this long to happen/it took MC to show up, or if they just took this long to realize it happening

Mammon explains that demons can't forge pacts with other demons [2-9], so Solomon offically beat the demon allegations!! -> ......or did he. Because Mammon then goes on to say this [2-9; pic below]. Though to be fair this was probably just meant as a plot device to built tension since MC would have to reveal they are human before they could forge any pacts with the bros. Could also have been a small nod at Mephisto's powers later on

Mammon never was a guardian angel to anyone [2-11]

while shopping MC spots a book that they think might be precious, but Solomon claims that it isn't a grimoire since you wouldn't find a demon's lifeline in a place like this [lesson 2 hard mode]. Weird that it was brought up at all, but I'm guessing it was meant as a setup for later in the season

#hi can you tell that i was at one point planning to make a post about the differences between pacts and grimoires :)#mel's descend into madness #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me spoilers #obey me nightbringer spoilers

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coldresolve · 4 months ago

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tbh i didnt mean “not wanting to be criticized” i meant “not wanting to search up things and dive into stuff”. Rolling your head on the keyboard and relaxing while creating something is not the same by any means. I was also thinking more of visual art when i wrote that, since “art” is usually used in that sense these days. I do write and i do “research” (not like actual research articles tho) but i couldnt care less about political or any “other” interpretations. I know ur on the mindset of “all art is political” but nah. I just like creating. I dont even ever look ar politics. No news, no social media, nothing, i dont care, i dont interact, i dont listen. Not something that i care about. And im not the only one. And thats also fine. Art and creativity and the act of creation means different things to different people and noone can make a blanket statement with saying “its always political” or “it always has a »deeper« meaning”.

I also dont think “no deeper meaning” means its “shallow” or “lacks depth” (eventho this sounds contradictory), it just means that what might mean something to the artist, doesn’t necessarily mean anything for others and interpretating it in all kinds of ways is the viewers own opinions (also fine, but my point stays that it wasnt “meant” to be interpreted in any way other than how the artist meant it). Like idk how to explain this but just because you (or anyone) thinks about art in such a “deep” and “layered” way its not always like that. Not by far.

Woodworking is art. Pottery is art. Even architecture is art. All those art forms usually dont have any “statement”, or if they do, its not as common. Its relaxing and soothing to just… create. And im not saying “oh just start woodworking without any research”, that would most likely be a safety hazard. What im saying is not knowing about all these political bulshits and not CARING about them either doesnt make the art less valid?

I used these examples because writing and drawing is usually more “political” for a lot of people (including you I know) but for many people its just the same as a piece of pottery or wood statue they work on to relieve stress. And the way you talk about art/writing makes it seem like those people are “less than”. Because they dont do research, because they dont use themes or whatever all those things. No, you dont have to do all those if you just wanna create. Its gatekeepy af.

And tbf at least they are creating it themselves, even if it doesnt fit your standards. At least they arent using some ai. In these times we need to encourage people to create more than ever instead of gatekeeping art and writing and talking down to people who arent as sophisticated as you are.

Because your writing and art is insane but man that shits stressfull. I just want to relax and turn my brain off and create some art to soothe my nerves… not all this political implications lol

My opinion and i know you disagree but anyways. You said you like “criticism” so thougth i would share my thougths too.

hope you dont mind if i break it up by point. below the cut cause youve said a lot and i say a lot, ayy

you wanna have mindless fun and dont care if it comes at the cost of spreading harmful misinfo, bigotry or stereotypes, i got it. i read you loud and clear. im also criticizing you for it, which according to this, you shouldn't have a problem with

so when you said in the last ask that you don't care about 'pushing bad stereotypes', you meant visually...? are you drawing racist charicatures or sth lmao

you're right, i do think all art is political, but politics isnt just men in suits arguing about taxes yknow. a political ideology is a prescriptive worldview, that's it. broadly speaking, it's about how you see the relationship between the past/present/future, resources and power, who has them and who don't, and does that align with our ethics, etc. why things are the way they are and how they ought (/not) to be. how you see the world, other people and yourself necessarily shows up in self-expression, that is what self-expression is. it's inherent to art, and you can't get away from this by simply going 'not true' - what you're telling me here is just that you've decided you personally don't care. which is your right i suppose

just like i have a right to be able to think of this 'heres all the ways i'm extremely apolitical' section as you just declaring a privelege. lots of people - especially this site's userbase - don't get the luxury of being able to look away, because their existence itself is highly politisized. either you pay attention or they start sending you and your friends to camps, babey. deciding to be apolitical is a Very political act

you're not sticking fully to topic here. i never talked about depth, i talked about engaging with art uncritically, which are two different things. i do hold the former as an opinion but this is already long, send a different ask if you want me to get into it lol its mostly just me being a judgy bitch abt popular culture

to the relevant stuff, im just gonna reiterate that the themes you put in your work exist whether you want them to or not. death of the author, that whole thing. if you portray poverty in a way that suggests poor people are just being lazy, or that black people are violent, or that gay people are predatory, if you essentialize these traits in any given work, that is the statement that depiction makes, regardless of whether the artist actually believes it's true or not. that's just how biases work in fiction. it's not gonna stop existing because you stop paying attention to it.

funny you should mention woodworking - hi, im a cabinetmaker and i love talking about my craft. cool facts: scandinavian woodworking tends to use sustainable/local wood, minimalistic and semi-rustic designs with a focus on elegance and simplicity, and mostly uses natural finishes. american wwoodworking is a bit flamboyant and grand, frequently uses exotic woods for details, bulkier designs, with a focus on sturdiness and practicalty, and mostly uses glossy/shiny finishes. japanese woodworking is all about precision, subtlety and a world-famous tradition of the craft spanning back millenia, using wood from species that allow for chisel work with a precision that's down to the width of a human hair, occasionally stained with some nice colors (asia generally loves wood stain). ikea's woodworking uses cheap materials and cost-effective factory production, focuses on the mass marketability of their furniture, and has a legal team to deal with worker's rights abuses and forced labor cases. if you can read nothing about priorities and worldview into any of this, i don't know what to tell you. alas its true. your chair is indeed political

this doesn't mean you can't also use any chair to simply sit down in. these two aren't mutually exclusive.

pottery is the same. architecture is the same. in fact, tell any former soviet country that there's no politics in architecture lol they'll look at you weird

never said your art isn't valid or whatever, idek what that means in this context. i just said i can still criticize your racist charicatures regardless of how much mindless fun you had making them lol

(in case its not obvious i dont think youre making racist charicatures or all that shit, im going to the extremes to illustrate a point ykwim. im guessing you'd be fine with me critizising racism in fiction - in fact i don't actually believe you'd disagree with any of the things i've said if i'd framed it in terms of racism, or at least i hope not lol i dont know how far your take goes. im challenging a double standard ig)

"because they don't use themes" mhm, youre one of the ppl who dont know what a theme is, which ig is pretty valuable for context. art necessitates making decisions about what you portray and how you portray it. those decisions say something about your thought process, which your audience is able to draw conclusions about, or at least interpret from. art is a form of communication. if you create art, you are communicating. it means something. there is a message, usually more than one. that's what themes are. can be as benign as "damn hangovers kinda suck" or some grand statement about the nature of being human, doesn't matter. both of those things are themes

i don't think any person is "less than", i'm criticizing people's approach to art. person =/= person's approach to art. remember in my original post when i said that criticism is not the same as personal attacks? or cultural elitism?

im not particularly sophisticated, i just like abstraction cause im mentally ill lmfao. and i do want to encourage people to make art. i just also hate consumerist brainrot, so

its not that i cant relate to wanting to turn your brain off sometimes and just watch some sloppy horror movie or whatever, i do that too. but i also recognize that said sloppy horror movie can be criticized in seventy thousand different ways, and at least being aware of that instead of mindlessly consuming probably leads to a more wholistic appreciation of the art you create and engage with.

this is sliding into opinion territory like the sidenote in my last answer, so beware, but. if 'mindless fun' is the only way you engage with art, you're missing out, i'm sorry, Facts*. you're treating art like content to be consumed to distract you from the real world, not as something thats supposed to inspire or motivate or make you think about/understand things. it's reductive of what art has the potential to do, the ways it can help you grow. it takes effort to change your approach and i get that, but it gets easier once you've done it enough, and it is very worthwhile imo. just sayin'. im genuinely being an optimist about art here

*= opinion lol. but its a strong opinion which is basically the same as a fact**

**= irony

anyway i genuinely enjoy having these sorts of conversations just for the record. am able to disagree with someone without assuming they're a bad person or whatever. i understand if youre not interested in talking continuing but youve been fairly respectful or whatever so thats nice, love and peace✌️

#asks #pls tumblr dont fuck up my formatting by moving the readmore somewhere dumb for no reasonnnnnn

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