Um hello do you ever make an au and then are too lazy to make an actual story so you just skip to the ending and draw that 👍👍👍 also in archie style because im obsessed and i really needed to try doing that
or whatever. Something from my au that gets rid of the paradox prism and is simply a ‘journey to alternate dimension where something went wrong’ type story
Ramone headcanons because the Katchows got worse (again)
- His love language is gifts. He likes making things for people
- Everything and anything is a reference. If you happen to be driving by and he sees you while hes drawing he'll sometimes go "wait, wait a second.... *Scribble scribble* yes thank you*
- Ramone can only pull an all nighter when hes really, really dedicated to one art piece. Otherwise when it gets late he will go to his garage earlier or later going "tell me how this ends bru"
- When Ramone reads a book he will take the "imagine" part very serious and think out the entire world, its lore and all the bycharacters in the book. Like. Very detailed.
- Ramone likes seeing other peoples art and artstyles. He always likes to try them out at home
- he is the one student in the dorm that draws on the fridge
- Ramone would make a great home organizer because his feeling for style is amazing and he always knows where to put everything. Everyone always thinks Ramones art house is a mess but he keeps it perfectly clean
- He is a perfectionist, he will redo the same line 50 times and he will use the most random shit as art tools
- No, he is not going to color those works in progress sketches on the wall. They look cool this way.
- Ramone owns pepperspray. Everyone thinks his go-to weapon is paint and well it used to but he doesnt wanna waste his paint on stupid people so he bought pepperspray and put it in a paint can and whenever someone he needs to defend himself from comes close because "its just paint"... Well theyll see its not just paint. Lmao
"Pardon, pardon! Here I am!" Sir Pentious exclaimed as the elevator doors to the hotel's lobby opened. He knew Alastor was waiting for him- had probably been waiting for him for a while by now.
"I had a little trouble with the sink," he explained, the eyes on the brooches of his outfit darting around rather obviously.
Trouble with the sink translated to gripping it whilst he hyperventilated and cried for a little moment before coming down.
He had been preparing for this moment for a hundred years! Of course he was nervous! Nervous and excited: It was a wonderful coincidence that his new status coincided with the biggest Overlord event of the year. Carmilla Carmine was holding an evening banquet and gathering for all Overlords, new and old. The best event for a proper introduction and one with stakes.
Pentious wanted to get it right.
He was so glad he had Alastor to support him all the way through, even if they couldn't move as the singular unit they had become in public.
Pentious slithered to his companion with a coy lilt in his toothy smile. His tailcoat was black and silver this time: much starker than the pinstripes he wore for daily business. Proper and fitting for an official outing, but a statement with his handmade, ornate details and chains.
Angel Dust had helped him line his eyes with shiny black powder. Just a bit.
"Do you have your invitation?" the snake asked, though he immediately realised it was in vain. No one would think to reject the entry of the Radio Demon; not even under Carmilla's strict orders.
an ever so lovely birthday gift for @jollibee-nyong-malandi
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ
W/C: 1k+
Pairings: Anya x F! Reader
Warning: Angst
--
°Beginnings ★
High school was a golden age for you. The attention, the admiration, the spotlight—it all came naturally. You thrived in the chaotic ecosystem of cliques and crowds, moving through life like a shining comet. Anya, on the other hand, lived on the fringes of that universe. A bookish girl with her nose always buried in medical textbooks, she preferred the quiet corner of the library to the noisy cafeteria.
You noticed her one day during a study hall. Something about her calm demeanor intrigued you, a stark contrast to the loud, ever-demanding life you led. You started with small conversations, asking for notes or complimenting her taste in novels. Anya was shy at first, offering clipped responses, but as the weeks went by, her soft laughter became a constant in your day.
By the time senior year rolled around, you were inseparable. Weekend study sessions turned into spontaneous hangouts, and Anya’s kindness became a balm against the pressures of your own high expectations. You dragged her into your world, introducing her to your friends, showing her what it felt like to laugh without reservation.
--
°Changes
Graduation came and went, and somehow, you both ended up at the same university. You shared a dorm room, a decision that felt like the most natural thing in the world. Anya pursued nursing with a fervent determination, her days filled with long hours of studying and clinical rotations.
At first, you kept pace. You worked hard, determined to keep your grades up. But college brought temptations—wild parties, new friends, freedom. Slowly, you started slipping. Late nights out became a habit. While Anya stayed hunched over her textbooks, you stumbled in after midnight, your laughter echoing down the halls.
She never complained, not really. She’d wait up sometimes, her face a mixture of worry and exhaustion. “You’re home late,” she’d whisper, helping you take off your shoes, her hands lingering just a second too long. You noticed the way her eyes softened when she looked at you, the way she always made sure your comfort came before hers.
--
°Quiet Confession
One night, you came back particularly intoxicated, your steps uneven and your words slurred. Anya was there, waiting as always. Her hands were gentle as she guided you to bed, brushing stray hair from your face.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” she murmured, her voice breaking ever so slightly.
You hummed, barely conscious, lost in the haze of alcohol. As she pulled the blanket over you, her lips brushed your forehead.
“I love you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I just wish you’d see yourself the way I do.”
You didn’t respond, too far gone to register her words. But even in your drunken state, you felt the weight of her sadness as she sat beside you, her fingers brushing against yours.
--
°Breaking Point ★
The days after that night were unremarkable on the surface, but something shifted. Anya seemed quieter, more withdrawn. One evening, she finally gathered the courage to confess properly.
“I love you,” she said, her voice steady but her hands trembling. “And I care about you, more than you’ll ever know. But you’re tearing yourself apart. You’re so much more than this, but you don’t even see it.”
Her words hit you harder than you expected. You cared about her—deeply—but commitment felt suffocating. “I care about you too,” you admitted, avoiding her gaze. “But I can’t… I don’t want to be in a serious relationship thingy right now.”
Her face fell, the light dimming in her eyes. She nodded, forcing a small smile. “Okay,” she said softly. “I understand.”
And so began the arrangement—close, intimate, but never quite whole. You shared stolen kisses and whispered moments in the dark, but it was clear Anya wanted more than you were willing to give.
--
°Hollow Affection
The flings became regular, a strange mix of comfort and torment. For you, it was casual fun. For Anya, it was agony masked by silence. She gave herself to you fully, hoping you’d one day realize she deserved more.
But you didn’t. And she couldn’t bring herself to tell you how much it hurt.
--
°Party
When you invited her to a party, Anya hesitated. Crowds weren’t her thing, but she wanted to be near you. She dressed simply, blending into the background as you shone like always.
Your friends noticed her immediately. “Who’s this?” they asked, eyeing her curiously.
“Just a friend,” you said with a laugh, a teasing edge to your tone. “She’s kind of obsessed with me, though. Can’t keep her hands off.”
The group erupted in laughter, but Anya’s face turned pale. She laughed along weakly, but the hurt was evident in her eyes.
The night dragged on, and Anya stayed by your side, her silence growing heavier with every passing hour.
--
°Breaking Point ★
Back at the dorm, she finally broke. Tears streamed down her face as she packed her things, her movements frantic.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, her voice shaking. “I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t hurt.”
You froze, panic rising. “Anya, wait—”
But she didn’t.
She stayed in her room all week, you tried everything, you tried persuading her by doing any of her favors, her favorite foods, nothing. Nothing worked.
"Anya... I do love you," You say with a hitch as you leaned against her door after knocking non-stop.
"I just... Don't love you the same way you do.. With me." You said knowing that Anya wouldn't respond either way.
--
°Note
The next morning, you woke to an empty dorm. On the counter, there was a letter.
“I regret meeting you,” it read. “Not because of who you were, but because of what I became. I loved you more than I should have, and I let that love destroy me. You’ve changed, and I don’t recognize you anymore.
I’m leaving. Don’t come looking for me. I need to heal, and I can’t do that here. I'm sorry.”
The words blurred as tears filled your eyes. Guilt crashed over you in waves, each sentence cutting deeper than the last. You realized, too late, how blind you’d been to her pain, how much you’d taken her love for granted.
For the first time in years, you felt truly alone.
--
You wished, desperately, for a second chance. But Anya was gone, and all you were left with was the haunting echo of what could have been.
My friend put me onto this song the other day and it is Sam, Dean and Cas and it is EVERYTHING
I'll Be Good - Jaymes Young
"For all of the light that I shut out" - Cas shutting out Heaven
"For all of the innocent things that I doubt" - Dean not believing in anything good (Heaven, general kindness etc.)
"I'll be good, for all of the times that I should" - Honestly any of them really but the song sounds like something Sam would listen to so maybe when he's regretful post Soulless era?
Anyways, this song fits them all and I hate to tell you lol
reading the lyrics this reads to me as dean so much!!!
"my past has tasted bitter for years"
"grace is just a weakness or so i've been told" reminds me so much of the ruthlessness taught to him by j*hn like wow!
"the blood on my hands scares me to death" literally the. whole. s5. and that episode in s7 where he was put on trial for his guilt !!!
and again w the innocent things i doubt is sooo him about angels, heaven, and everyone's motives
