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@cstarry
. Ęâ âč . Ę âĄ Ę . âč â Ę. navigation . Ęâ âč . Ę âĄ Ę . âč â Ę.
riize
nct
enhypen
. Ęâ âč . Ę âĄ Ę . âč â Ę. . Ęâ âč . Ę âĄ Ę . âč â Ę. . Ęâ âč . Ę âĄ Ę . âč â Ę.
send request!
work in progress: only a vampire can love you forever(wonbin drabble)
whew! so hello guys! a few things while im currently active and writing. i want to let all my riize moots and loyal readers know there will be little to no more eunseok fanfics.. maybe but not a lot like their used to be. racism and hate is not tolerated or even considered to be on my page.
other than that!! im currently working on vampire!wonbin and toxic situationship with sungchan!! hopefully they will be out by the summer bc school is almost out !
-cstarry
thatâs us in your pinned đ„
yes
㠀㠀㠀㠀㠀㠀 㠀 you make my heart go doki doki .
㠀㠀㠀㠀㠀㠀 㠀 hyung line x reader .
taglist : open . if you would like to join the taglist for this series, comment or send an ask <3
major character deaths mentions suicide, blood, murder, abuse based on the game 'doki doki literature club' future tags will be added.
đ - welcome to the club! đ - jake? đ - jay...? đ - sunghoon. đ - just heeseung!
a new chapter every friday @ 12:00 pm , gmt+8 .
!stalker riize drabble? who?
shotaro
sohee
eunseok
my âïž are you jinja back forreal
yes new post soon trust
hello are you seeing riize with me
what would you do when you okay so he said yes would go
i need a superman jaehyun fic NOW. @cigsaftersuh DO YOUR MAGIC THE SUPERMAN MOVIE WAS SO GOODđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„č
unfortunately i scrapped class president⊠im so sorry for everyone who was looking forward to it. I have better ideas for an es fic and i dont want to waste space and time on something that i barely pay attention to..!
thank u !-starry
im so vamp im gonna bless my readers with a vampire!riize drabble >.<!!!!!!!!!!
?
shotaro
eunseok
sungchan
wonbin
sohee
anton
seunghan
so everyone agrees my RIB opium emo vampire theme is better than @jae10velies nostalgia trash buns cheeks boring theme đ„°đ„°đ„°đ„°đ„°???
guys⊠does anyone get my new theme đđđđ the album is so peakâŠ. guys im not crazy okay⊠rest in bass is peak ..đđ
-stars iphone đđđđ
i forgot what i was going to send you this is all your fault
shut up â_ââŠ
lover, you shouldve come over. -l.cy
âčâ pairing: yearning!anton x ex-girlfriend!reader
âčâ tags: post-breakup, hurt not comfort, heavy angst, unresolved feelings, emotional repression, slow emotional decay, longing, regret, love lost too soon, soft guilt, he let her slip away, death! mentions of drowning and suicide; if you feel like committing suicide, consider calling your suicide hotline near you. you are not alone
âčâ an: seriously.. i need to write something happy my whole blog is a sob fest
âčâđ§: PLEASEEE listen to lover, you shouldâve come over. its gonna make the reading experience 10x better
anton thought if he could just fix himself, if he could hold on a little longer, sheâd come back.
but she left firstâbecause she saw the cracks before he did, because she couldnât watch him drown and not sink with him.
she loved him enough to walk away, hoping that distance might save them both from breaking completely.
and every day since, antonâs been stuck in the silence she left behindâaching for a second chance, terrified he lost her forever.
he never said it, but maybe he wanted her to go, to escape the mess he was becoming.
now, all thatâs left is the weight of her absence, the guilt of what he couldnât fix in time, and the hope that maybe, someday, sheâll see the man heâs trying to be without her.
the rain hadnât stopped in days. anton stood in the doorway of his apartment, the one she used to fill with noise and perfume and laughter, and watched the gray pour down like the sky was mourning something. he didnât know what exactly he was waiting forâmaybe a sign, maybe a knock, maybe her. the street below blurred under the downpour, umbrellas moved like ghosts through water, and he thought: is this what grief looks like when no one dies? a slow funeral for something that once bloomed?
he used to think he had time. that being loved meant being forgiven. maybe he really was too youngâtoo naĂŻve to recognize a good thing unraveling in his hands, too careless to hold her heart without squeezing too tight or letting it slip through. she always had this way of loving him gently, like she was afraid of hurting him, and heâhe only realized he was starving for that love once she stopped giving it. now heâs just cold. cold and stupid and full of a hunger he canât feed.
he whispers into empty rooms, calling her âchildâ like he used to when he was feeling soft, when sheâd tuck herself into his side and trace the veins on his forearm like they held secrets. âwhere are you tonight?â he asks the silence. but the silence only stares back. sheâs gone, and heâs too late. too far gone. maybe she couldâve saved him if heâd asked her to stay.
sometimes he thinks back to the nights he chose everything but her. the late calls he missed. the texts he ignored. the fights he brushed off with a laugh and a âyouâre being dramatic.â he thought love was supposed to hurt sometimes, supposed to be difficult and chaotic and loud. but she wasnât chaosâshe was calm. and all she ever asked for was to be seen. to be chosen. but he kept chasing something that wasnât real, and by the time he turned around, she wasnât there anymore.
funny how a man can destroy the very thing he was terrified to lose. funny how he only wakes up when thereâs no one left beside him.
he tells himself heâll wait.
even if it kills him.
even if the world moves on and she doesnât come back. even if his name fades from her mouth like an old song she doesnât hum anymore. heâll still sit in that same corner of his life and burnâslow, steady, stupid.
what else is there to do when your heart doesnât beat for anyone else?
some nights, he wonders if sheâll ever walk through that door again. if sheâll ever look at him and not see the mess he made. he thinks about all the times she begged him to pay attention, to grow up, to meet her halfway. and he didnât. and now he waits like a boy who never learned. a boy who thought sheâd always stay, no matter how many times he forgot to love her right.
lover, you shouldâve come over.
itâs the only thing he can whisper now.
not because he deserves her returnâbut because he doesnât know how to exist without hoping for it.
the room is still. too still. the sheets are cold but untouched, the window open like maybe the wind might carry her name back to him. like maybe the storm might knock some sense into the sky. the rain paints the walls with shadows, and all that burns is him. he is the only thing left flickering in this empty house.
he closes his eyes and begs for rest.
but sleep wonât take him. it never does. not when he aches this loudly. not when his body still turns toward the spot where she used to lie, as if some part of her might still be lingering in the quiet.
he yearns.
he waits.
and the night never ends.
they were in the kitchen the first time she really thought about leaving.
she was standing by the sink, washing a plate and he was scrolling through his phone, answering some urgent text, it had been hours since either of them said anything that wasnât about schedules or sleep.
âdo you even notice when iâm gone?â she asked, voice low, barely above the hum of the fridge.
he didnât look up. âwhat?â
âwhen iâm not around. do you notice?â
she was scared of the answer. scared of the silence that followed.
he finally set his phone down and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face. âwhat kind of question is that?â
âa real one,â she said, turning around. âi justâI donât know. i feel like iâm always waiting for you to show up. and when you do⊠itâs like youâre somewhere else.â
âiâm tired, y/n,â he sighed, voice clipped. âyou know how much pressure iâm under right now.â
âi know,â she said, nodding, biting the inside of her cheek. âbut youâre not the only one whoâs tired.â
anton didnât mean to trap you. but thatâs what it started to feel like, somewhere along the lineâlike love had become this glass room you werenât allowed to leave. and it wasnât violent. it wasnât loud. it was quiet in the worst way. it was the way he looked at you when you stood up to leave. the way his voice would crack just enough to make you sit back down.
âdonât go,â heâd whisper, eyes already wet. âplease⊠just five more minutes.â
but five turned into thirty. into hours. into another night you couldnât make it home. into texts from your boss you stopped replying to. into sleeping on the edge of his bed, still in your work clothes, too tired to explain again why you couldnât keep doing this.
he was never cruelânot in the obvious way. but he knew exactly how to keep you close. he weaponized his sadness without even realizing it. some nights, heâd say things like, âi donât know what iâd do if you left.â and you knew what that meant. and even when he didnât say it, the silence screamed it louder.
it got harder to tell if you were staying because you loved him⊠or because you were scared of what would happen if you didnât.
heâd hold you like he was afraid youâd disappear mid-sentence. kiss you like it was the last time every single time. and you stopped pulling away, even when it felt wrong. even when your body was stiff and your mind was screaming that this wasnât how it was supposed to be. because saying no would mean breaking him. and you couldnât do that. not again. not when he was already unraveling in your hands.
âyouâre all i have,â he told you once. voice low, forehead pressed to your chest. âyou said youâd stay.â
itâs not too late,â you whispered, voice barely there, eyes already gone. and then you left the next morning like youâd never lived in him at all.
anton had always hated how good his memory was. the way every second of that night played back with horrifying clarity. the quiver in your lip. the way your fingers trembled when you reached for the doorknob. the sound of your footsteps fading down the hall. it was tortureâslow, looping, relentless.
until he couldnât take it anymore.
he grabbed his keys. didnât even put on socks. just ran. didnât stop until he was standing in front of the old pool downtownâthe one with the cracked tile and faint chlorine stench that somehow felt like safety. he hadnât been there in months. maybe longer. but it was the only place that ever made the world go quiet.
swimming had always been antonâs way out. when everything in his head got too loud, the water was the only thing that shut it up. and he was good at it. like, really good. full rides. championships. medals that still sat somewhere under his bed, gathering dust. it was the one thing he knew how to do without thinking. without needing anyone.
but that morning, even the water felt heavy.
he sat at the edge of the diving board, the hum of the pool lights buzzing above him, the only sound in the room besides the steady drip of water echoing off the tiled walls. his legs dangled above the surface, toes barely skimming the stillness below. chlorine stung his nose. it reminded him of simpler days. when he swam for medals, for escape, not survival.
he hadnât told anyone he came here. no texts. no note. just silence.
his breaths were uneven. sharp inhales that barely reached his lungs. his hands shook, clenched into fists that kept unclenching. heâd swum laps until his muscles gave out, until his skin felt raw and his thoughts louder than ever. and now he sat here, soaked to the bone, clothes heavy, heart heavier.
his mind wasnât quiet anymore. it was screaming.
memories crashed into him like waves. the sound of glass breaking at sixteen when he said the wrong thing. fists slamming doors. the loneliness of being in a house filled with people who never asked if he was okay. how it always felt like love came with conditions, like care had to be earned, like even when he tried to be goodâtried so hardâhe was still too much, too loud, too broken.
and then her.
you.
he thought you were different. and for a while, you were. you stayed when it was dark. you held him through his episodes. you told him he was more than what hurt him. but even you got tired. even you stopped trying.
you left. and you took everything with you.
he tried to be angry. but all he felt was this endless, aching emptiness. a hollow that sleep wouldnât fix. food couldnât fill. not even the water could wash away.
he leaned forward slightly, toes curling.
âjust a little longer,â he whispered to no one.
but no one came.
his eyes filled with tears he couldnât wipe away. shoulders hunched, chest collapsing under the weight of everythingâevery mistake, every cry for help that came out wrong, every time he clung too hard, loved too desperate, asked too much.
and then, he jumped.
the splash was silent in the grand scheme of the universe. the pool swallowed him whole. for a moment, there was stillness again. weightlessness.
but before the chlorine could sting his eyes and flood his lungs, tears did it first.
it wasnât the water that drowned him. it was the grief.
lover you shouldve come over out tonight !!
happy birthday stars!!!! itâs officially been one year since this blog started.. i love you all !
MPC is officially over !!! thank you guys for all the love and support, more and more fics will be out preferably at the end of june-early july! thanks stars !! đ„č
