#crime doesn't have to be dark and sad!

[sword-day]

BETTER CALL SAUL 01x09 Pimento

[darkmagic-s]

theodore nott's one star rating of dirty talking

Summary: Sexting through note passing, one of Theodore's favourite ways to bother you.

History of Magic is fun... only if you're studying it on your own. You're nice enough to pretend to be interested in whatever Professor Binns is saying, occasionally, because you would feel bad if he notices that you're falling asleep. Then again, Professor Binns doesn't exactly have a heart to feel sad about his students not finding his lesson interesting, does he? Nevertheless, you work hard to suppress the yawn that would threaten to come every five minutes. Scratch that, every minute, actually.

You look down at your notebook, eyeing it with disappointment. Every History of Magic class, your page would start with almost impressive notes and gradually, evidently, transition into lazy writings and short sentences. Sometimes not even a sentence.

The Salem Witch Trials were a series of hearings and prosecutions of people who were accused of being involved with witchcraft.

These trials occurred in Massachusetts, in the years 1692 and 1963, in which, as a result, twenty people who were accused of witchcraft being executed, and most of them being women.

Some of the women were indeed witches, though found to be entirely innocent of the crimes they were accused and executed for.

others are just no-majes

traumatic event

witches and wizards retreat to homelands

1920 second salemers

dada essay due tomorrow & practice non-verb spells

You pause in your reading, eyebrows furrowed. The Defence Against the Dark Arts essay...

That's something you'll worry about after lunch.

With a soft sigh, you lean your chin on your palm, your elbow resting on your table. How much longer until it's lunchtime?

Before you can even start to feel another yawn coming, a familiar hand from beside you slides over a torn page from a notebook, with a sentence written on it. Obviously it won't be a list of names of the Salem Witch Trials' victims, knowing your lover.

You turn your head, looking at Theodore Nott with a raised brow, before reaching out to slide the paper closer to you, your hand brushing against the back of his hand briefly. He doesn't even bother to fold the paper. He might as well read it out loud to the whole class.

"why the frown? :("

You can't help the half-smile that appears on your lips when you read the note. You write back a simple response.

"You."

Theodore practically snatches the note from you, undoubtedly excited that there's finally something exciting to do and you had to nudge him because of the noise the paper just made. He's not bothered, of course, already writing down his response.

"I will buy you sweets."

Your heart skips a beat, even at such a simple message. You glances at Theodore, who's watching your every move with that gentle gaze of his green eyes, a soft playful smile on his lips.

"Your hair looks fluffy. Would love to touch later."

You slide it over to him. You enjoy the reaction your message has on him, because he rolls his shoulders in what seems like a satisfied manner as his smile widens, before he starts to write. Clearly he thought of a good response.

"you will touch it later, and other places too"

His response comes with a drawing of a beating heart, which eventually increases and explodes, and the animation repeats. How cute, you think. With a shy smile, you write back, wanting to keep the conversation going despite how his message had left you a bit speechless.

"What do you think of the New Salem Philanthropic Society? Bold, don't you think?"

Somehow, your response causes him to snort, in which he disguises it with a fake cough. You quickly look at him with a mix of confusion and amusement.

"you're BAD at dirty talking"

This time, it's your turn to snort, causing the two people in front of you and Theodore to turn around, frowning. You want to scoff - you're pretty sure they're just annoyed because you and Theodore are interrupting their napping or daydreaming session.

Looking over at Theodore, you roll your eyes at him, before focusing on the note that is now in your hands. You wouldn't say that you're bad at dirty talking, more like... skilled in other categories of dirty talking, such as begging or... demanding. Perchance.

You write your reply with determination.

"I would need to be locked up in Azkaban for your safety."

When Theodore reads your reply, you saw his eyebrows raise - he's both surprised and impressed. He shakes his head with a breathy chuckle.

"ominous, but an improvement,"

There's another sentence below this one, and you almost choked on your own saliva.

"pull up your skirt for me a little bit"

You immediately crumple up the paper on impulse, holding it in your hand, and you swear Theodore's smirk becomes more evident. Is he serious? Writing this on a note passed in class is dangerous! But then again, someone is borderline snoring just a few tables away and Professor Binns isn't even sparing him a glance, no one is.

You smoothen the paper on your table and writes down your response, exhaling softly.

"This isn't dirty talking. You're just horny."

Theodore places down the paper on his table and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms. When your eyes meet his, he simply shrugs and pointedly looks down at your skirt.

He's waiting.

You sigh and make sure your robes are out of the way of display of your skirt. With your hands nervously gripping onto the hem of your skirt, you look around the classroom. Some are doodling, and some are literally sleeping. No one would find out, really.

You pull up your skirt by just an inch.

Okay, two inches.

"That's it," Theodore whispers unexpectedly, causing your heart to skip a beat. What handful he is.

He slides over the paper to you, and you notice he didn't write a response. You send him a questioning look, and he gestures to his body with his hand.

Oh.

You slide the note over.

"Which one do you want?"

The note is slid back to you.

"which one do YOU want?"

You tilt your head, contemplating. The hardest decision you've ever had to make today, you think.

"You don't need to take anything off to arouse me."

You pause your writing. However...

"The tie?"

Theodore seems satisfied once he reads the note. He looks over at you and loosens his robes around his neck, revealing his vest and the white shirt underneath it. With a smirk, he loosens his tie at the top of his vest, just a little, not too obvious - for your eyes only.

You can't help but to take the paper from him despite how it's his turn to write the message. Considering how the two of you aren't exactly writing neatly on the paper which leads to taking up all the space, you had to use the other side to write your new message.

"I like your neck."

Theodore smiles fondly once he reads this, not a playful smirk this time, and you think he might even be blushing. When he glances at you, you notice how his pupils are dilated.

He slides the paper over to you, and squeezes your hand affectionately for a brief moment before pulling away.

"you will mark it?"

It's clear to you how he's subtly guiding you towards saying the right thing, lest you start delving into the whole Second Salemers' background in your reply, and you can't help but to want to impress him.

"I will write on it in runes which would translate to my name."

Theodore chuckles quietly.

"nerd"

A true romantic.

You write back - shamelessly.

"You want me so bad."

You see him pressing his palm to his face, as his shoulders shake in quiet, small laughter. Naturally, seeing him smiling so big widens yours too. He leans towards you and whispers in amusement, "You are bad at dirty talking."

"You will never find anyone as good as me," you reply in a whisper, leaning back in your seat, putting on a smug expression, despite the fond smile that threatens to break though.

As Theodore leans in to peck your cheek, you can't help but to briefly think that, if you were good in dirty talking, a whole notebook would've been used up for this period alone. You needed to have a flaw, after all.

[daenysx]

Hey darling, I have a requests for Aemond if you still writing for him. I just want when he has so much pain because of anything(maybe he's tired of family pressure) and he just need his darling's arms.

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy! you can send requests for aemond or aegon now that the show is back <333

prince aemond targaryen x fem!reader

you can see vhagar's wings if you squint your eyes enough.

aemond is restless these days, he is angry and resentful. his anger has never been directed to you but the peace in your shared chambers decreases day by day. you frown, not knowing what to do to make it all better. vhagar flies closer to the keep and you watch her. you can almost imagine how aemond looks on top of her; sad, disappointed in himself, angry, vengeful. your husband is far from being okay.

you settle down on the bed, the thin fabric of your nightgown does nothing to protect you from the night air's chill. you prefer keeping windows open though. each breath of fresh air is needed in here.

almost half an hour later, aemond returns to you. he smells like dragon and something unique to him, you've grown fond of his scent long time ago since you got married to him. he closes the door, takes a few slow steps into the chamber. you leave the bed to greet him.

"husband." you say lowly. he looks calm. flying on vhagar works like a charm most of the time, he gets to relieve some of his tension to the clouds. he looks at you with a tired eye, a graceful hand of his extended to you.

you accept his touch almost greedily. it's always easier with him, to deal with everything. you've never imagined you'd be a part of a war one day but life is tricky. there are too many reasons to be afraid of each minute that goes by, but aemond makes them all bearable. he's protective, even more so now. you like how he stands tall and charming, like a statue to protect you from all the darkness. he wraps his hands around your waist to pull you closer, close enough to put his head on your shoulder.

your hand goes to his hair. the lovely silver strands messed up by wind. you fix them, fingertips touching his scalp. he breathes heavily, his hands on your waist are insistent. he begs silently. he begs for the pain to go away. only for one night.

aemond pulls himself back with a sigh. he takes off his eyepatch, starts opening the buttons of his riding clothes. his fingers are cruel on his own skin, he doesn't care if he hurts himself. you hold his hands when he roughly pulls the fabric. his hands slow down in your palms, staying still like he's done something wrong. you bring each hand on your lips. they are shaking with hate. you look at your husband to see his eye get all glossy under the light of fire. his arms stay on his sides.

"let me help." you say gently. he sits on bed as you take care of him. he will not bathe tonight, you know, he only wants to be free of the fabrics he carries on him. the eyepatch, the clothes. all of them pulls him down.

when he's finally bare, he gets into the bed. you adjust your pillows to see his face better. the little distance between you is too much for aemond to bear. he puts his head on your shoulder.

"they all say the same thing." he says. you wouldn't hear his silent words but his mouth is close to your ear. you hold his naked body as he keeps going. "same thing. every day. as if i'm a fool who forgot what he's done."

he made many mistakes. mistakes are the nature of a war; thinking back with regret and pain, wishing to take the time back, holding grudge to gods and faith for not stopping the unfair crimes. aemond is too self aware these days thanks to the people he has to call family. they are masters to answer each sentence of him with his war crime. he thinks it's fair sometimes, he has to be punished in a way. he pushes his head closer to your neck to settle down, it's too much for a man to deal with.

"i'm sorry." you say. there's nothing more to say, he knows you try your hardest to forgive him for his crimes each day. you're mostly successful, your love for aemond is blinding. he kisses your neck slowly, curved lips leave a mark on your skin.

"i never wanted this." he says, regret drips from his voice. "i never wanted a power i cannot control."

"it's a dragon, my love." you reason. "no matter what your intentions are, you cannot make her agree with you every time."

"i only wanted-" he takes a breath. "i don't even know what i wanted. i thought the bond between us was stronger, with vhagar."

he doubts himself. it's dangerous to doubt the bond between a dragon and her rider in the middle of a war. aemond is a reasonable man when he's not mad but even he's having hard time facing with the consequences of his actions. he used to brag fiercely, the rider of the largest dragon in the world. now, he questions his worth more often, like he's a boy hiding behind his mother's skirt.

you kiss his forehead, his head must be hurting under all this worry. what feels worse now, accidentally killing the nephew who took his eye years ago, or doubting everything that made him aemond targaryen? he knows there are things he should understand, he's just not brave enough to face them.

because now, he's in your arms. the only place besides the sky that gives him comfort. being in the same bed with you is better than flying sometimes, he's free here. you offer every bit of relieve you can to him, he takes what you're willing to give. every kiss, every touch, every valyrian word you learn to prove him you love him, every minute you spend with his wounds and his troubles. he can't lose you. he has nothing in this world if he loses you.

you kiss him again, for your sake more than aemond's. when you're together you don't have to worry about him. you know he's safe and secure, you know if anything happens he'll be your guard. kisses are a way of communication now, a way of comfort. he closes his eye when your lips connect with his skin. he could spent his life here if he wasn't be a man who's hungry for power and vengeance.

he thinks the fire is easy. it's so easy to burn everything when he has vhagar. he doesn't look back, he doesn't deal with the places he burned. he has the blood of a dragon, he becomes one with vhagar when he whispers words to her. he knows he'd burned down the city if he loses you. he wouldn't look back. there are too many people disappointed in him already. if he loses the only one who holds him together, he'd have nothing.

aemond kisses you softly. he stops breathing when his lips are pressed against yours. he feels like a tamed dragon if there's such a thing. you stroke his cheek, push his hair back from his face. he is hungry for touch and you give him what he craves until he falls asleep against your neck. he holds onto the one person who keeps him sane until the sun shows itself.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Alastor x Reader Master List

My Alastor list is getting crazy long so I am giving it it's own post just so my big Hazbin Hotel Master List doesn't get too confusing.

Other Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

List of Things I Won't Write

Series are marked in purple

Requests are marked in pink

Suggestive are marked in orange

NSFW are marked in red

Make You Wish Master List -> Y/n has known Alastor since she first ended up in Hell. When he disappeared? She thought her life was over. Seven years have passed since then and slowly but surely, the 1950s housewife turned murderer has made a life for herself, full of good decisions and some bad ones. What will happen when Alastor turns back up again, sending the world as she has made it into chaos once again?

What Can I Do For You (Alastor x Reader) → What if the deal Alastor made that is controlling his power was with Y/n?

Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader) → Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?

→ Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader) -> Reader wakes up in Alastor's room at the Hotel after the events of Understand.

Wrath (Alastor x Overlord!Spouse!Reader) → Y/n’s anger in finding that after seven years, their husband has returned to Pentagram City and decided not to tell them.

Unrequited (Alastor x Reader) → It is too late for him to change things now. It doesn't matter what else has happened, that he's gotten to know her, seen her light. Some broken things can never be fixed. 'You came' 'you called' but make it sad.

→ Unrequited Pt. 2 -> Reader steps in when Alastor is attacking Husk.

→ Unrequited Pt. 3 -> Alastor refuses to let Y/n be present for the battle against Heaven and will do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even if she hates him for it.

Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader) → Alastor and Y/n have a deal with Lilith where until a soul is redeemed at Charlie’s hotel, Y/n is under her control. Alastor will do whatever it takes to get his wife back, but that doesn’t mean he won't get a little sad a lonely along the way.

Loving You (Alastor x Gn!Reader) → Valentine's day special :) The story of how Alastor and Y/n realized they had feelings for one another.

Sweet (Alastor x Chubby!Reader) → Hurt//comfort. A random demon insults the reader and Alastor comes to comfort her, later dealing with the demon in a typically Alastor way of handling such a crime.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader) → Fake dating trope. Y/n and Alastor met when they tried to kill one another, how could they not end up at least a little bit in love?

-> Cover Up pt. 2

→ Cover Up pt. 3

Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader) → Y/n just wants to watch the world burn. Being married was a boon at first but later, rather inconvenient. When she died, she did everything she could to avoid her husband and continue her work but fate had other plans.

→ Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2

→ Till Death do us Part pt. 3

Prepare for Battle (Platonic!Alastor x Platonic!Cat Demon!Reader) → Alastor and Y/n have been engaged in a prank battle for decades. What happens when just a few days after Alastor reappears in the Pride ring, Y/n joins him at the Hazbin Hotel?

Rhapsody Master List → Gn!Reader. Alastor and Y/n have been taking down the overlords of Hell together for years but Y/n has had a secret and Alastor knows it. They each go their separate ways because of this but what happens when years later their paths intersect once again. Loosely inspired by Raine and Eda in The Owl House.

The Guilt (Alastor x Reader) → Y/n was the one person he never meant to kill, but Alastor didn't have a choice. Years later, much to his surprise, they run into one another in the depths of Pentagram City.

Pretty Bunny (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader) → Alastor catches Angel and Y/n getting ready for a night out and stops Y/n from going. Hurt/comfort.

I Myself am Strange and Unusual (Alastor x Living!Addams family!Reader x Lucifer) → Y/n is bored and summons some demons. 

The Love (Alastor x Reader) → Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.

Frostbite (Alastor x Reader) → History repeats itself in odd and uninvited ways. Life cycles on even in death.

→ Day Lilies (Alastor x Blizzard demon!Reader x Angel!OC)

Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy (Alastor x Reader) → It wasn't love. Alastor didn't feel love, not anymore. He'd lost that part of himself the day he died so it couldn't be love, could it?

→ Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy pt. 2

Mishap of Magic (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader) → Alastor’s magic backfires and Y/n is there to help. Who would have guessed that a situation such as this would give him the last push he needed to tell her how he felt? 

Destruction//Creation (Vox x Alastor's Ex!Reader x Alastor) → Alastor refuses to let the past die and Y/n would rather pretend it never existed.

The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader) → Alastor meets his shadow.

Masquerade (Alastor x Angel!Exorcist!Reader) → Y/n is sent to the Hazbin Hotel as a spy.

Downfall (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader) → Y/n see’s Alastor talking to Rosie and thinks she is what he wants in a woman. Little does she know, he was meeting with Rosie to ask for advice on how to talk to Y/n.

What it Means to be a Person (Alastor x Cyborg!Reader) → Y/n gave an arm and a leg to the fight against the exterminators and feels she has lost her humanity by the bionic replacements Lucifer and Charlie gifted her in return. Alastor reminds her that not all is lost, she can still dance, after all.

Spicy Sienna and Berry Naughty (Alastor x Chubby!Gn!Reader!) → Alastor likes the fact that Y/n has begun matching their lipstick to their nail polish -- loves it, in fact. What he doesn’t like is that other people have started noticing. (this one is a bit… weird so I am marking it as suggestive.)

Burn (Human!Alastor x Human!Gn!Reader) → What happens when Alastor spots his ideal target, Mimzy’s newest hired talent? What happens when they evade his capture? What happens when, slowly, he begins to realize -- Alastor doesn’t want to kill them? At least, not anymore.

Drawing Down the Moon (Alastor x Ancient Roman!Witch!Reader) → Alastor reencounters an old friend.

[celaenaeiln]

Robin Dick Grayson Characterization

I'm not sure how or where this started but there's been a rampant misunderstanding of Dick Grayson as Robin.

For some reason there have been posts upon posts that dick was some kind of angry robin and I don't know where this is coming from because in every single comic Dick is said to be the happy one. It seems to be a Covid craze because such defamation was not even in existance before 2020. Every one of the comics - Justice League, Batman, Detective Comics, Nightwing Comics, Jason's comics, Tim's comics, all of them! Talk about Dick being the happiest of the robins.

Some people say that he wanted to avenge his parents death by killing Tony Zucco. However Dick could never do that. John and Mary raised their son better than that.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight Issue #100

Where do you see a raging blood-soaked boy fanon makes him out to be?

The biggest supporter of happy Dick comes from Alfred so if you're going around claiming Dick was angry, you're literally spitting on his grave because Alfred ADORED Dick. He thought of Dick as the sole reason for Bruce's happiness which made him love Dick even more.

Alfred is Dick's biggest advocator. When Bruce is hesitant in his initial days of Robin - Alfred says

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"They will be easier than they ever were for you."

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"He will see excitement and adventure...and he will help you see it, too."

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"He's gotten a taste for it, Master Bruce. He has the natural skill and talent. Do you really think you could stop him at this point?"

"He could make you better. He could BE better."

"A hero forged in the LIGHT."

And Dick feels this too.

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"Then WE help them find the better path. Together."

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"Let's show them how to do it right."

Calling Dick an angry robin - that's an insult to Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. It's an insult to who they are as characters and it's an insult to the very creation of robin.

Dick wasn't made for vengeance. He was made for the light.

Dick is the embodiment of hope and a brighter future. He's what people look forward to on their darkest days, their shining light. He's the hero of all heroes that came after him. There is no one like him.

There are tons of comics on Dick's journey as Robin but here's a clear one as to his thoughts before he became Robin.

Robin & Batman Issue #3

Dick wasn't angry. He's was sad, lonely, and scared.

But.

This good boy doesn't deserve what you call him. This small loving child. Don't you dare push your evil agenda onto him.

"I don't need to be the next batman. I can be something else. Something better."

"And you know the best part?"

"Now I know I don't need to be alone. And I don't have to be the dark."

"I can be the light."

"I can be Robin."

Batman (1940) Issue #687

Dick was an excitable, brilliant, and over-excelling child. He was a ball of sunshine and happiness who loved laughing, playing games, and being crazy. He was a hypercompetent, crazy child who lived for the love of living and adventure.

It's the loss of the original dynamic duo that Alfred grieves over.

Batman (1940) Issue #687

Just look at this adorable baby!!!

Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #16

"Hey, Batman! You took down one of 'em and I took down three! I told ya I've been practicing!"

"Good work, Robin."

What the heck you cute adorable baby.

"Holy--! Is this a warden's office of a museum of horrors? Look at that old rocket ship!"

"Ew. There's a skeleton inside!"

LOOK AT THAT BABY FACE!! THE PURE ENTHUSIAM IN THE WAY HE TALKS - HE'S JUST A HAPPY BABY BOY!!

Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #17

IT'S A CRIME TO CALL HIM ANGRY.

Love this sweet, adorable child.

Another issue with the “Dick Grayson was an angry Robin” take. It’s not just a different perspective, it’s just blatantly wrong.

How wrong?

In order to fight the Batman who laughs, Bruce creates a machine that will emulate the joy of the happiest person he has ever known-who?

Robin Dick Grayson.

"Happiness is seeing the world though the eyes of children."

The Batman Who Laughs Issue #4

"Dick was the first robin. He had the happiest eyes. Circus eyes. Weightless - leaping, never falling."

Bruce drives himself insane from the joy he feels by looking at the world through Robin Dick's eyes.

Every comic. In every. single. comic. All of them talk about how Dick was a happy child and a happy robin. Dick's talk about it, Jason's talk about it, Tim's talk about it, the Justice League's talk about it, the Batman's especially - all the batman comics - talk about.

I would've actually added about 50 more panels but I ran out of image space because posts only have a 30 image limit.

I'm not kidding when I say it's IMPOSSIBLE. ABSOLUTELY, INCONCEIVABLY IMPOSSIBLE to say that Dick was angry Robin. Dick, Jason, Bruce, Tim, Damian, Alfred, Barbara, the JL, the titans, the Gotham villains - they all talk about Dick was a symbol of hope, joy, and light to Bruce and Gotham.

Not only that but if you read the comics, you would know that Dick was a happy robin because all the following robins had a cascade effect on their personality based solely on the fact that Dick was a happy robin. Jason's personality was the result of Dick being charcterized as happy, and Tim's personality was based off Dick's being happy.

But you know what the biggest piece of evidence against this blasphemy that Dick was angry robin is?

Secret Origins (2014) Issue #8

"...Becoming a much needed FOIL to the batman, whose own grim obsession with revenge could easily have caused him to cross the line..."

Explain something to me. It canonically states the Dick was a foil to Bruce Wayne who used to be revenge obsessed and grim. A foil in literature means a character who contrasts with another character to highlight the differences between them.

So if Bruce was dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled and Dick was the foil, then how on earth is it possible Dick to also be dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled?

On top of this impossibility of Dick being angry and full of hatred, can we take a step back for a minute and think about Dick's position in all this? Dick is the very first child hero, the one countless heroes after him look up to because he, Robin, was the embodiment of light and goodness. He single-handedly dragged Bruce out of his pit of self-destruction merely by existing because of his charming and playful demeanor. How, then, is it possible for every single character in the entirety of DCU along with every single writer who has ever written a comic - to be wrong?

Let's be clear. Bruce's personality, is written to be the opposite of Dick's personality. And Dick's personality is the opposite of Bruce's. Furthermore, Jason and Tim's personality were written to be a response to Dick's. There's also Alfred waving a massive banner about how Dick is a literal godsend front and center. So. If you still believe, that Dick was not a happy robin, then you have effectively mischaracterized every single person in the entire batfamily aside from Kate.

Congratulations. It's truly an accomplishment to be so wrong.

So no, Dick was not in fact, ever, the angry robin.

Dick was a happy robin and that is the FOUNDATION of understanding the batfamily.

[sillyuin]

Silly Puppies. Svt reacts (97 line).

Genre: Fluff, crack (kinda).

Pairing: 97'z x reader.

Summary: You're on you aparment spending time with your puppy as they hear you calling him "your soulmate". How will they react to this statement?

Divider by @cafekitsune

Minghao. He doesn't say a single word and his face is out of any expression. Obviously, you catch his attention, but not in the way you’d like; he knows you very well and understands that you just want to provoke him, and that's a game that two can play.

“Hao,” you hummed to catch his attention as he raised his gaze from his cell phone to you. “Don’t you think our puppy is adorable?”

His response was nothing more than a hint of a smile, then he turned back to his phone screen.

“See? He doesn’t pay attention to me,” you whisper while hugging your pet, who responds by wagging his tail joyfully. “That’s why you are my soulmate.”

Hao shifted his eyes from the phone to look at you while you gaze at him with wide, contemplative eyes; his face remains calm. You’re eager for his reaction, but he knows your intentions and what’s hiding behind those innocent eyes, so he’s not going to be fooled so easily.

“Excuse me, were you talking to me?” he asked, placing a hand on his chest to emphasize the question.

“No, I’m talking to him.”

He clicked his tongue and got up from his seat. “Then you can stay here with your soulmate” he gestured with his hand to shamelessly point at the puppy in your arms, “there’s surely enough space for you both on the couch.”

“Hao, wait!” you stretched your hand to reach him, but he had already turned his back to walk away.

“Sorry, I’m going to MY room to sleep in MY bed.”

Dokyeom. Breaking his heart should be a crime, and you’re the one to blame. How could you do that? Now you must face the consequences.

“Have I told you that you are my soulmate?” you patted your pet's head while he remained seated. “Yes, you are.”

“y/n, the bathroom is all yours,” Dokyeom entered the living room with a towel on his shoulders and wearing pajamas.

“I’m going, I was just telling to my soulmate how beautiful he is.”

“But,” he chuckled softly, “you haven’t said anything to me.”

“It’s not with you,” you leaned down to give the puppy a kiss on the head. “It’s with him.”

“Then I… I won’t…”

“Come on, don’t take it too serious…” You stood up to give him a hug, but Dokyeom rejected you by turning his back to walk away. “No, Seokmin!”

You followed him to the room’s entrance, calling him with desperate voice, and you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw his downcast face, his dark eyes like a sad puppy. You swallowed hard; it was the first time you saw Seokmin that sad.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” You approached to give him a hug, gently stroking his back, and he reciprocated the gesture.

“Well…” His voice sounded a bit more cheerful. “… If you give me a kiss, I might forgive you.”

“Lee Seok Min!” You quickly pulled away only to find him laughing in your face. “Why are you playing with me like this!?”

“You started it! Don’t run away, don’t get mad at me!”

Mingyu. He is not someone who gets upset with you, but bringing him down from that position, from HIS position, is something very personal, no matter who it is, and he will not shut up about it…

“Gyu,” you said as you entered the kitchen. Mingyu turned his gaze from the stove to you, a tender smile forming on his lips when he saw you with your pet in arms. “Can I come in?”

“Go ahead,” he returned to what he was doing; whatever he was cooking smelled very good and had him quite busy. “Don’t worry, I’m all ears.”

“Did you buy food for him?” You tilted your head, pointing at the puppy. “My soulmate can’t go hungry.”

Those words fell heavily on Mingyu’s ears, who slowly turned his head toward you, his eyebrows raised in surprise, but not in a good way.

“Did you just say… that…?”

“That my soulmate can’t go hungry,” you repeated, bringing the puppy closer to your face, trying to make a cute expression.

Mingyu turned off the stove and left everything he was doing as if an emergency had occurred.

“Take that back,” he said in a half-serious, half-joking tone while pointing his finger at you. “Take it back right now.”

“Come on, I was joking.” You bent down to let your pet stay on the floor. “Are you really going to get angry…”

“That title is mine, and mine only.” There was a rather strange silence, which ended when you burst out laughing loudly, and he continued. “Hey, don’t laugh at me!”

“I'm sorry,” you wiped the corners of your eyes, filled with tears. “It’s just… it’s just a puppy, don’t get jealous!”

“Jealous?” Mingyu wrapped you in his arms and started kissing your cheeks repeatedly. You tried to break free, but the more you struggled, the harder it was to escape. “You are mine, and I’m not sharing!”

“Alright, you win!” you exclaimed between laughs. “Just let me go, Mingyu!”

[colorisbyshe]

A lot of the response to Oppenheimer criticism has been "Clearly, you haven't watched the film, it isn't celebrating him! It shows all the things he did wrong" and I have to say... that's... still... missing the point of the criticism.

Oppenheimer occupies the same space as all the war films--like Dunkirk--that say "War is hell." While these films could and do skew towards "War is bad, let's avoid it," they still often... really end up saying "War is hell but let's pity the warriors and maybe consider the ways in which it was worth it."

The "war is hell" films end up completely missing the "anti war" mark because they choose to focus on the people waging the war, painting them in a sympathetic or at least humanizing light even when they're in the wrong. You feel bad when a soldier has to kill a kid on the other side--even if the kid is unarmed or begging for their life--because it's sooo sad that the soldier was driven to that point. And because... well, what else could they have done?

A much more effective "war is hell" film would be focused on the people whose land is ravaged by bombs. The civilians. The families. The people who lose their homes, their schools, their hospitals, their lives. Not in waging war but just in happening to live where war is happening. THEY are the real victims. They are not victimizers who might come to regret it (like warriors, like Oppenheimer) but like... actual victims.

In choosing to make a film about Oppenheimer and not about his victims--the people of New Mexico, the people of Japan, people forced into internment camps on US soil, and broader even then--you are saying "This man is responsible for great evil but let's humanize him too. Let's recognize that he didn't really have a choice or that maybe he felt bad about it. It was out of his hands."

Beyond humanizing him, it gives this history an element of inevitability. He HAD to do it. This HAD to happen. It's horrible that it happened but it was always going to happen.

If you focus instead on all the people victimized, you see all the reasons why it didn't have to happen.

And if Christopher Nolan isn't equipped to tell the story of New Mexican civilians who weren't given protective gear when the only jobs they had left were at all the labs or the stories of what a Japanese child does when his family is ravaged by American war crimes... he doesn't have to tell that story. The option isn't "Tell Oppenheimer or tell an intimate story he can't at all relate to." He could just... not tell this story.

Some stories really are not meant to have entertainment value. Some stories are not meant to be human stories but rather just facts on paper. Or told from the other human side. Sort of how like documentaries on serial killers often get it wrong but the fictionalized tv shows exploring ~what made them serial killers are ALWAYS wrong.

Some perspectives don't really need to be explored, is what I'm saying. Oppenheimer shouldn't be a grey or even dark protagonist. Some atrocities do not need to be humanized in any way, even if the humanity mostly culminates into "He was still wrong, though."

There are more efficient, less troubling ways to explore the motivation (the greed, the nationalism, the racism, the hatred, the warmongernig) behind bombings and wars like this. That would be better tools at realizing how we are repeating history, right now, in 2023.

That don't involve having to paint atrocities and the people behind them as grey or human or pathetic or pitiable.

[soapymansuds]

Eternity and Counting

(Pt1) This is a running piece I've nearly finished, but the whole thing is way too long to post as one chapter sooooo... This part's pretty short just for the sake of timeline splitting.

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad, everybody is crying like all the time

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.

(Takes place in the Frost Flowers event (sorta?), with mild "that chapter where MC finds out they're the Bridge" spoilers. Can't remember which chapter that was.)

~/\~

It's so heavy. This grand weight I've been lugging around since that day. I should have died. I was supposed to die. I would have deserved it too. All I've ever managed to do was cause problems for this family. And maybe I still am. The idea almost stopped me. Visions of their faces. Their tears. Their grief. It did, actually. A few times at least. But not today. It's happened again. Everything was going just fine until that God-forsaken dog decided I would be the object of his affection. Somehow, in spite of the threat it faced to the nation, the brothers refused to just hand me over. Almost losing not just their home, but their kingdom, for my sake. Yet again wasting their time trying to save me. Just like they did when my stupid power nearly killed Lucifer. When Lucifer nearly killed HIMSELF to save me. A bitter, evil part of me is still mad at Michael for stopping me. For saving me.

My arms feel heavy as lead as I lay here, counting away the seconds. I've got nearly an hour before anybody gets home from RAD. Plenty of time to make sure I stay dead. I feel a little bad for lying about being sick to get out of classes today. But maybe I am. Doesn't matter much now anyway. Really, my biggest concern in the current moment is how long it will take Barbatos to notice the ingredients I took. Sure, he's in classes right now too, but he pops in and out of the castle all day long. The likelihood of him stopping into the kitchen and noticing the cracked cabinet door, the scavaged shelves, and finally the open jars is uncomfortably high. In my defense, the chances of that happening while I was there were equally high, so I can't be blamed for the messy crime. But he's only got a few moments more before his discovery will be for naught, so I suppose it's not terribly worrying.

I can feel it, creeping up my spine like a cold massage. The ever-growing numbness. The slow death of my limbs. My lungs. Me. It's growing darker now, unnaturally so, even for The Devildom. I can finally free them of my burden. Free myself of it too. But I would like to offer a final scorn to whatever God allowed me to hear the gentle creaking of the front door.

~/\~

(Mammon's POV)

A chill runs through my spine,like something ominous is lurking behind me, but as I turn around, nobody's there. In spite of that comfort, I can't shake this overwhelming dread coating my nerves and sinking into my bones, urging me to move. Driving me to jog home. The gentle sway of the bag on my arm becoming notably more violent as it begins swinging by my side.

My hands can't work fast enough as I try to unlock the front door. I break into a near sprint as I approach their door, slamming it open.

"MC?" I call, it's dark in their room, but I can just make out the shape of their body resting in their bed. "Oh, you're just sleeping." I mumble, walking up to their bed and setting the bag on the ground next to it.

"Hey, I gotcha some human world medicines." I whisper, pulling a few bottles from the bag. "C'mon, you gotta wake up and take some."

I can't help but roll my eyes at their lack of reaction. "Been spending too much time with Belphie." I reach up to shake their shoulder gently.

Nothing happens. So I try again, fingers gripping just barely tighter. Tight enough to feel the unsettling chill of their skin. It seeps through my fingertips and into my soul. Gripping my heart in white hot fear.

"MC, wake up." I shake them again. "MC." Their name falls from my lips like a plea. "MC please-" I grab their other shoulder. "MC!" Tears spill from my eyes, breath shaky and ragged. "Wake up!"

(Raghhhh, sorry about this)

-Your dear friend, the author

[mistress-of-vos]

I'd make a longer post (and maybe one day I will) but since Lore Olympus, the story that introduced me to webtoons is coming to an end I'd like to say something:

I can't believe it is considered problematic. It has to be one of the sweetest, fluffiest, simplest stories I have read (hence why I still like it, it's a relaxing read before bed) and somehow it got too "kinky" for mainstream. It's laughable.

Everytime I dare to click on their tag or look for the # on Twitter or FB I see people clutching their pearls as if Lore Olympus were brainwashing teenagers into marrying a non existent God of the dead and have babies with him. What the hell?

The fact that people think LO is too dark makes me laugh. A single episode of Rick&Morty, BoJack Horseman or HQS has way more explicit content and dialogue. In fact!!! If it were up to me LO would have gotten genuinely kinky!!! All it does is have some surface spicy tropes that get sugar coated to not make puritans awkward and tbh that's sad. LO and the author get terribly hated anyway for daring to portray the most common female fantasy.

And this all makes me laugh but also mad because you'd think LO at least has some genuine dark themes but no? At most we have Persephone's trauma due to Apollo's abuse and yet that topic is treated as a therapy pamphlet because people couldn't handle an imperfect victim. Hades is a wife guy who shows little to no anger. Hera was re written to be sort of a feminist so that people stopped being annoying about women having emotions.

LO is a sweet, simple story with tiny spicy things here and there that were eventually pushed aside because people couldn't handle it. I wonder how Rachel feels about this, because at the beginning the story was extremely spicy and the only crime was being published in a platform as webtoon, full of people who can't differentiate reality from fiction.

Is LO a masterpiece? Idk! I enjoy the story, it's very self indulgent for me, but I won't go and analyze every detail to see how it should be labeled as it's not meant to be a perfect media. It's meant to be an entertaining, nice story of romance and it does that job very well. This need to demand perfect writing while also crucifying authors over "dark" themes is ridiculous and contradictory.

And I keep wondering, if these people loathe LO so much, why dedicate all that time to the infinte posts they make about how they would have told the story? And all those re tellings are boring! It's always "So Persephone and Hades won't ever kiss here because she's a lesbian. Also he doesn't appear at all. And Demeter isn't an abusive mom! Oh and everyone is ugly because gods shouldn't be beautiful! And Apollo isn't evil he's uwu baby. And no toxic relationships here, Zeus is a good husband!"

Sweet Gaia, you guys wouldn't handle Saint Seiya having Athena in the body of a teenage girl with big tits and who's constantly in the edge of breaking her virginity vows. This attitude screams of jealousy and puritanism and both are disgusting.

TLDR: LO being too problematic for people is both funny and annoying. I wished it actually were as kinky and dark as people insist it is. I'd pay for a toxic romance, but that being said, I LOVE it very much as it is and it's nice to have a re telling that, while not pretending to be loyal to mythology, didn't go for a route of sanitizing all the myths. I hope that once it ends haters will move on and let real fans and the author alone. 🙏

[mixelation]

How about... Akatsuki partner ships ranked? 👀

yeah okay. worst to best

6. Pein/Konan - Look, they have the devotion thing down. You want angst? They have angst, and also a vaguely punk rock aesthetic that seems like it shouldn't exist in universe, which is at least visually interesting. However, Kishimoto forgot to give either of them personalities. They both appear to be the same flavor of Mildly Morose. You would think being leaders of a terrorist organization aiming to end the world's magical military forces via snatching up all the weapons of mass destruction for themselves would make for an interesting power couple, but it just..... doesn't? This ship is bereft of content because even the most versatile shippers don't know what to do with it.

5. Kisame/Itachi - Listen, I know this one will be controversial. I know this one has some very dedicated fans. And I am here to inform those fans that this ship is boring. Look. You just have to accept it. It's okay. Do you know how much MinaKushi I write? I'm not judging you. Sometimes you just want something boring and unchallenging. Their canon dynamic is largely Kisame just doing whatever Itachi wants, and fans are usually too cowardly to let Itachi act insane enough for the dynamic to be interesting. This ship is for people who think black pepper is spicy.

4. Orochimaru/Sasori - I wanted to rank this one higher. Do you know how potentially insane this ship is? Do you understand? Do you know how many nonconsensual surgeries of third parties this ship involves? The stolen bones? The crimes against humanity? The fall out and betrayal and obsession? This should be the greatest, most insane ship of all time. But I've read how it's written. This ship will only disappoint you. Only pain lies here.

3. Tobi/Deidara - This one also seems like it should make for a deeply insane ship, and yet is rarely delivered on. Their canon dynamic is fun, and also its implications turn completely mind-blowingly bonkers post identity reveal. Like what is Obito even doing here? I can only assume his crush on Deidara was just strong enough he got distracted from taking over the world for like six months in order to harass him. Cannot rank higher because fanon Obito is too annoying to read for more than a couple thousand words, and people who ship Deidara with men keep turning him into a sad little uwu bean. You will find some fun things, but also you will find the most annoying OOC content on the planet.

2. Kakuzu/Hidan - They! Are! Married! Bizarrely, the pair that have the most cooperative and supportive on-screen dynamic, which gets them to second place. Unfortunately fans think Kakuzu's entire personality is scamming people for money, and not even in a fun Ed Edd n Eddy way. Also Hidan is usually just like. Protestant with extra steps. How did this happen? We don't know. Fortunately there's a least a small amount of good content out there for them and their married life. They're happy. Hundreds are dead, but they are having a good time.

1.Sasori/Deidara - Genuinely confused about how this one won first. Like I like this ship, okay. It just seems like it shouldn't be number one, and yet here it is. They have a well-established canon dynamic that's a little bit spicy but also leaves room for cooperation. They're both small pretty boys so fans are less determined to sort them into the gender binary of "dark chuckling sex god" and "sad precious uwu bean." There's a wealth of content that doesn't suck and even maybe sometimes gets a little interesting. You will have to read the most cardboard, unnuanced dialogue about art, but it's not like canon was churning out high quality dialogue there either.

[chaossery]

The epilogue made me reevaluate this panel of Hawks, the framing of Twice's murder, and, in fact, the story's stance on extrajudicial killings as a whole.

For the longest time, I thought the way Hawks was drawn here - pitch black and inducing a certain sense of dread within the reader (kinda like a villain) - was a very unsubtle hint that what Hawks was doing here wasn't right, it wasn't heroic. It was something we readers shouldn't endorse.

But, perhaps this panel was supposed to depict only Twice's view of Hawks - not the story's, not Horikoshi's, only Twice's…

Like many others, I thought the aftermath of Hawks killing Twice would lead to an interesting development of Hawks' character, him struggling with killing such a "good guy", asking himself whether he truly made the right choice, questioning the origin of villains. It would also lead to the hero kids starting to question things: the whole hero system, hero society's handling of villains, the choices made by the adults around them, etc. How could it come to this, a hero killing someone, when heroes are supposed to save people?

But none of the kids were ever shown to spare this issue a thought.

Sometime after the first war, Midoriya - our moral compass in this story - was more concerned with Lady Nagant killing the former president of the HPSC, allying herself with All For One, and having lost her faith in heroes rather than her extrajudicial killings. His biggest takeaway from her story was that things aren't black and white - that's all. No dismay at the HPSC's crimes, no engaging with hero society's dark sides. Nothing.

And now, without ever really reflecting on the decisions he made regarding Twice, without ever showing any doubt in his righteousness, Hawks has become the new president of the HPSC and seems to be living his best life.

What does that say about the story's stance on extrajudicial killings? No character on the heroes' side ever condemns them, not even Deku, our moral compass. Thus, I have to assume that the author himself doesn't condemn them.

It's sad, but sometimes it can't be helped - extrajudicial killings are a necessary evil.

Maybe Horikoshi doesn't really think like this, but the way things are framed tells a different story. (Not to mention the parallels between Deku killing Tomura and Hawks killing Twice.)

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS *  some of my favorite quotes from the show, adjust as necessary

his chops are too righteous!

it’s evil. it’s diabolical. it’s lemon scented!

lord knows i’ve tried.

two words. na. chos.

yeah, i get called that a lot.

it's just a cruel reminder that i'm single and likely to remain that way forever.

what doesn't kill you usually succeeds in the second attempt.

stupidity isn't a virus, but it sure is spreading like one.

goodbye everyone, i’ll remember you all in therapy.

don't you have to be stupid somewhere else?

i used to have a kidney stone. everything passes eventually.

you can't fool me. i listen to public radio!

stop it, [name], you're scaring him!

do instruments of torture count?

give to the children's fund? what have the children ever done for me?

this is not your average, everyday darkness. this is... advanced darkness.

what's better than serving up smiles?

i guess i'm not wearing any pants today.

did you smell it? that smell. a kind of smelly smell. the smelly smell that smells… smelly.

wake me up when i care.

look at all the hip, young people eating salads!

he was so ugly that everyone died.

the best time to wear a striped sweater is all the time!

well, the way i see it, there are three possibilites.

hibernation is the opposite of beauty sleep.

that’s it mister! you just lost your brain privileges!

good people don’t rip other people’s arms off.

well, we lost our car again.

pull your pants up. we’re going home.

you were right. fighting is for children.

i’m a good noodle!

remember, licking doorknobs is illegal on other planets.

your ceiling is talking to me!

we don’t need television.

the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.

i’ll have you know i stubbed my toe last week while watering my spice garden and i only cried for twenty minutes.

hey, if i close my eyes, it doesn’t seem so dark.

is mayonnaise an instrument?

those are some big words. i’ve never heard you use them before.

my vocabulary is infinitely expanding.

we destroyed your most prized possession.

we shall never deny a guest even the most ridiculous request.

let’s see, a five letter word for happiness. money.

can i have everybody’s attention?

i have to use the bathroom.

do you know what day today is?

could you not stand so close? you’re making me claustrophobic.

i used your clarinet to unclog my toilet.

are they laughing at us?

if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.

he needs us now more than ever.

what is today, but yesterday’s tomorrow?

ice is just a myth.

this working out thing isn’t working out.

i can’t see my forehead.

i have a good idea, and no one else thinks so.

look at you, so young and happy.

i prefer to be an idiot!

sounds like a pretty good deal to me, what do you say?

don’t be sad, buddy. turn that frown upside down!

i’m ugly and i’m proud!

good! say it louder!

i can’t do it! i can’t be away from my best friend!

i need you! i can’t handle this myself!

i’m just going on vacation for a few days.

i was kinda hoping that you come along with us…

enjoy the cake everybody!

now we never have to be apart, even when we’re not together.

this is great. see you forever!

i have to keep you safe while i get some work done!

maybe he doesn’t like us.

no, are you kidding?

i propose a toast to new friends!

i guess i’ll have to move in back with my mom and dad.

he’s a thief. look at the lust in his eye…

why can’t you just accept our friendship?

[ghost-bxrd]

ANOTHER DAY another cool au by the ghstbird community <33 Eldritch Jason Todd u are gorg <3, random question for brainstorming since I'm too invested now

How did the adoption scene take place? The same crime alley thing? Catherine todd? Willis? AAAAA or just local eldritch being that steals car parts (he's emulating human behaviour in crime alley, maybe he just tosses them later to kids???) maybe he just has immense compassion towards humans (although he doesn't fully understand them) (all Jasons need to be made out of bleeding compassion FOR ME BUT!! depends on what characteristics we're pulling for) (AND. IF HE'S DYING FOR SHELIA? gotta be compassionate. HE'S ROBIN, he is full of love towards these fleshbags. Though... uh... nonhuman... and having messed up emotional responses)

Nonono, because Robin Jason with his bleeding compassion is so important to me as well!!!

So basically (because I’ve put too much thought into this little au as per usual) the bullet points for eldritch Jason and the things you mentioned are as follows:

Jason spontaneously came into being. Eldritch things aren’t usually born in the way humans are, and Jason used to be a concept that suddenly gained consciousness.

(There was a short period of time where the brainstorming went into the direction of “eldritch jason found a dead street kid and assumed his appearance/inhabited the body”, but this seemed a bit dark so I had to come up with an alternative)

Jason watched humans for a quite a while and—alone from the very beginning— became enamored with the concept of family and love and happiness and belonging

One way or another (no specifics as of yet) Jason ends up with Catherine and Willis. Willis isn’t too shoddy in this au, he’s just… pretty neglectful. And a criminal. He does his damndest to stay well clear of wherever Jason is because that kid— he’s not normal. Maybe he’s a meta, Willis doesn’t care, all he knows that the sense of doom he feels around him is unnatural and he’d rather make his home in prison than around Jason

Catherine loves Jason. She can’t see beyond the surface layer of humanity Jason wears, partly due to her substance abuse, and Jason… knows that humans can’t last long like this. He can see her organs failing, her brain activity dimming, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. And he’s too busy basking in the love he’s finally feeling for the first time

Jason loves being human. If he could lock everything that isn’t human about himself away, he would. He thrives on witnessing strangers showing compassion to one another, to see them struggle and overcome hardships. They’re just a blip in the cosmos, in time, but they’ve got so much to offer. But likewise, he loathes witnessing injustice

When Jason ends up on the streets he’s just a big ball of sad. No home, no love, nothing. Nothing left. At least he needs neither food nor shelter to survive, but it still sucks. He loses some of his blind eyed wonder for humanity during this time, but not enough to give up on it. He adapts, he overcomes, and like you said, he starts emulating other street kids. Collecting scraps and handing them out to the young ones. And when he sees the Batmobile just standing there… well, that’s a week’s worth of food for ten of the kids he knows

Hitting Batman with the tire iron is a knee jerk reaction borne from cautionary tales about adults. He’s not actually scared of Batman

(Batman may be a little scared of Jason. Especially when he ends up buying him a burger and, out of the corner of his eye, thinks he sees Jason unhinge his jaw only to reveal five more jaws and and an abyssal void and—)

Just… eldritch things. And the tribulations that come with pretending to be human. Wanting to be human.

[baby-yongbok]

Grief

Felix × Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, kinda heavy, I'll say that it's heavy to be safe.

Word Count: 1,233

Summary: You had to find a way to numb the pain after losing your best friend, but hurting your boyfriend wasn't part of the plan.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, Heavy Themes of Grief, Themes of toxic Coping skills, Yelling, Cursing.

A/N: it's grieving season for me so here's an attempt to let my feeling out ✨️enjoy✨️ this doesn't seem dark to me but I don't think like everyone else, please pay attention to the tags. + I'm uploading from my phone, so I'm sorry if anything looks stupid 🙃

✨️Masterlist✨️

The doorknob twisted and turned vigorously as you fought with your keys. Your senses were off, but who's wouldn't be after taking as many shots as you have tonight.

Finally, you manage to find the right key and you're hoisted inside by your own body weight. You giggle at yourself as you stumble into the dark living room. The sound of your thick converse against the hardwood echoing off the walls. You shut the door a lot harder than you meant to, earning another giggle to fall from your lips.

"Are you going to keep doing this?" You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's smooth voice. Looking around with your blurry vision until your eyes landed on Felix sitting in the arm chair across from you. His voice is relatively calm, angry but calm.

"What?" You asked, plopping down on the couch and slipping your sneakers off. Before he can answer you're pulling yourself back up and stumbling your way over to the kitchen.

"You know what, going out and getting drunk. Drowning out your consciousness every night." Felix follows you, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he watches you closely. His eyes look sad but you're too inebriated to comment.

"It's fine. It's fun." You slur slightly as you try your best to extend yourself, standing on your toes to reach the top shelf of the cabinet. Felix watches you as you try to reach a bottle of red wine, a very expensive bottle that you both agreed to save for special occasions. Felix runs his hands over his face before he walks over to you. You smile at him thinking that he's going to help you. He leans forward, aggressively reaching up and slamming the cabinet shut, sobering you up a bit.

"What the fuck, Felix." You jump at the sound and push his shoulder. He glares down at you.

"I need you to stop this. This isn't the right way to deal with grief, me and the guys are here for you. We can find a good therapist, there are resources out there."

"Therapy doesn't fucking bring her back." You yell, eyes wide with anger. You've been working hard to get the feelings to go away. You've been going out nearly every night, drinking and trying to live your best life even though your partner in crime since Pre-school is gone. Felix nods, taking a deep breath to level his emotions.

"I understand that but this isn't healthy and -" A loud scoff leaves your lips, you shake your head as your anger rises.

"I don't need a fucking lecture. You have no idea what it's like to lose your best friend." Those were the words that made Felix snap, his vision went dark. Everything that he had been holding back for weeks poured out in an instant.

"The hell I do, I've been watching you, my best friend, practically kill herself with alcohol for an entire month. I can't do this shit anymore, Y/n. I'm trying, I'm trying so hard to be there for you but you just aren't there anymore. You're not even willing to look in the damn mirror and see that you're falling apart. Do you think she'd be proud of this shit?"

Felix's deep voice bounced off of the walls and echoed through your head. He's never yelled at you before, this is the first time that he's used the deep tone of his voice towards you in an act of anger. Such an intense one at that. You stand there wide eyed and teary as Felix runs his hands through his hair, pacing a bit as more anger creeps up his throat. His loud deep voice ringing through your ears again.

"Nothing that I do seems to fucking matter, I've called therapists, I've tried to get you to go. I tried at home management. I tried giving you your space. Chan tells me not to hover, Hyunjin tells me to be open minded, Changbin tells me to guide you in the right direction but all that you want is the fucking alcohol. I've stayed up night after night worrying about you. I've cried during practices, I've cried on the phone with my sister, I've cried so fucking much because I'm losing you. You're standing right in front of me but I don't know who you are."

"Felix - " You take a step towards him, reaching for him but he takes a step back, shaking his head and cutting you off.

"No I can't, I don't want to hear it. I know that you're hurting, I understand that but I can't ignore my own pain anymore." Felix leans against the counter, hands in his hair as he slides down onto the floor.

"I quit, Y/n. I can't take it, I can't watch you kill yourself." His voice is softer now. He's sitting on the cool kitchen tile, knees to his heaving chest.

Tears fall from your eyes as you watch him. The weight of the moment is crashing down on you and you can't help but to crash with it. You can feel it all creeping up on you, the pain that you fought so violently to avoid is doubled. You were so focused on the person that you'd lost that you ended up pushing away the person that you still have. Dealing with grief is hard, it's earth shattering and painful but adding to the pain doesn't help. All of the drinks that you've had up until this point aren't worth the sight in front of you. It isn't worth hearing your boyfriend scream at the top of his lungs. It isn't worth seeing your boyfriend break right in front of you.

You double over, sobbing into your hands as you take it all in. You stop fighting the pain, falling to your knees. Mumbled apologies fall from your mouth as you try your best to explain but none of it makes sense. You want to give him an explanation, you want to be vulnerable for the first time in the last month since you lost your best friend. You want to hug her, Felix, yourself.

Felix would usually comfort you, but not tonight. Tonight he's decided to save himself. Tears decorate his freckled cheeks as he pulls himself from the floor, he looks over at you for a second too long muttering a small 'I'm sorry' before reluctantly leaving the kitchen and slowly climbing the stairs. You listen as he shuts one of the upstairs doors and the tears fall faster, sobbing harder into your hands.

Is it too late? Did you drive him away? You can't lose him too, you can't take that. You hug yourself tight, trying your best to feel some type of warmth, some type of comfort but it isn't enough. Your breath catches in your throat as everything plays over in your head. You feel heavy with pressure, you're a balloon that's slipped from a child's hands into the sky. You can feel yourself drifting away until you hit the atmosphere and suddenly, you pop.

Screams fill the quiet space around you. Your throat burns as you let it all out, every word you didn't get to say to your best friend, every tear that you refused to cry, all of it comes tumbling out in a raw display of pain. Grief in its purest form.

[monvante]

persona non grata ╱ myg, 𝟏.

per·​so·​na non gra·​ta: unwelcome or unwanted. not popular or accepted by others.

pairing: myg x f!reader

genre: suspense / noir / detective au

rating: mature | 18+

chapter word count: 3,067

content warings: crime, blackmail, missing person investigation, themes of violence and murder, 90's cult references, corrupt cops, mentions of physical fighting, cockroaches, depictions of dementia, substance abuse & addiction, reader is grieving a breakup;

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chapter i. goodbye, kanan.

Tuesday night, March 18th @ ViCAP Unit, Missing Persons Dept.

Your hands don’t feel clean. They just never do. 

“It’s that same nightmare,” you rub them together, finding comfort in the heat.

Yoongi looks at you. He says nothing, because of course he doesn't. He already noticed the dark circles under your eyes this morning, how you looked at your cup of coffee with a bit more disgust than usual.

He admired your hatred, your devotion to your spiteful heart.

“Cockroaches.” Your sad chuckle is but self-mockery. Your gaze is crestfallen.

He’s left to calculate within the machinations of his mind whatever meaning there is in your nightmare. 

Yet, Yoongi finds none whatsoever.

“Have you eaten?” 

“Why?”

“Just asking,” he shrugs. “Take tomorrow off,” Yoongi hides his hands inside the pockets of his trench coat. His concern is disguised in his eyes, looking out the foggy windows of the department office. “You need it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Let it go.”

“He was eight years old! He was a child!”

The air tightens in your lungs and your throat thickens with silence. You didn’t mean to sound so exasperated, you didn’t mean to sound like anything, but you’ll have to be the first to face your emotional ties to the cold case of a young boy whose face is ingrained in the back of your mind.

Yoongi gulps ⎯  it’s the first thing he does when the truth’s engulfed in his stomach. You glare at him, but he doesn’t budge. Not for a few seconds at least, taking a few steps back as he still refuses to look you in the eye. All cops are cowards.

“You wanna know why we got this case?”

Your brows perk. 

“It’s not because we’re good,” he scoffs. “Last year... I confronted McKinnon about the money. He called me a snitch… I didn’t- I didn’t tell him you were in on it, but I figured he knew. That bastard just.. kept looking at me with those filthy eyes and I- I hit him, okay? I got him good. He deserved it.”

“Is that why you kept avoiding me all those months?”

“Kind of. He said we wouldn’t come out of it alive if the ACU so much as dreamt of it… So I kept quiet. He gave us a case full of dead ends and shit evidence to keep us busy… Said we deserved it.”

The Anti Corruption Unit had been onto the agents’ tail that month. Not that it matters. Nothing was found.

“Why– why didn’t you tell me?”

He runs a hand through his hair, slowing down his breath. In the same second, he fails himself and his fury comes out in full force.

“Fuck’s sake! And risk you being dead? Or worse?!” 

There are drops of sweat down his temple. You can see them because the yellow street lights glisten against his skin and you figure he’s telling you the truth. Even if he wasn’t, you’d be inclined to believe him. 

No one else in this godforsaken unit has a commitment to the truth like Yoongi. 

Thursday morning, March 20th @ ViCAP Unit, Missing Persons Dept.

Agent Gerwig gives you a warm, tight-lipped smile when you pass her down the hallways. You hurry past the agents down the coffee machine, avoiding small talk and nearly tripping down the stairs on your way to Yoongi’s desk. 

The insides of your stomach are twisting and turning as you rush inside, uninvited and breathless, waiting for him to acknowledge you behind his incessant typing and the meaningless emails he reads everyday. 

Yoongi seems as still and lifeless as ever, which somehow comes as a comfort to you. 

“Days off are supposed to make you look better, not worse. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He types as fast as he comes up with witty remarks. 

“That’s because I have!” You spit back, fists closed tightly around the newspaper in your hands.

He quirks up one brow, enough for you to know you’ve got his attention.

“Here,” you toss it onto his desk. “Read it.”

November 27th, 1991. Solved case: Thanksgiving kidnappings linked to man apprehended by police.

“That’s Adam Bowen. He got arrested a night after Kanan went missing,” you huff, catching your breath. “They never considered him a suspect because… the timelines didn’t add up, apparently.” 

Yoongi looks up at you from the large frame of his glasses.

“And?”

“Police always suspected he worked with his brother… but they never found enough evidence to prove it. They never even found said brother, the guy disappeared out of thin air and Bowen never told them anything. Not a word.”

He leans back, stretching his arms. His gaze diverts away from you or the paper altogether and he’s staring into space, seemingly at a loss for words.

“They got one brother, huh? Looks like it was enough for them to settle it,” Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Sloppy as all hell.”

In your heart, there’s some feeble hope, but most of it has been filled with despair and a fierce jealousy towards anyone who still maintained a sense of normalcy. Your last seven years have been haunted by nightmares, tainted by the faces of all the missing person reports hanging on your walls.

“We got a second half of the story to figure out.”

Yoongi nods. He closes off his laptop and puts his hands around his gun belt.

Friday night, March 21th @ Agent ___’s home.

Circe’s orange tail swirls around your leg before she’s meowing next to her empty bowl, with cute and threatening eyes glaring into your soul. You can barely catch your breath on the couch ⎯  you got shit to do. 

Her paws trail happily after you once you’re pouring the pack of Whiskas onto her tiny plate, making a mental note to throw nearly all the home decor away before Easter comes. The apartment is filled with portraits, vases and candles Yuri generously left you with. 

Such courtesy of your ex-fiancée to have abandoned all your memories and stories behind. 

You’re running out of coffee, hope and sugar.

Yuri was not a bad man. It’s what you told yourself, once. He wanted the kids and the white picket fence life, away from violent gangs and city lights, where he’d craft the perfect nuclear family, worthy of homemade apple pies and Sunday barbecues.

But you liked the urban loneliness, your shoebox apartment and the green subway lights on your way back home. You liked the comfort of knowing every neighborhood like the palm of your hand, the ins and outs of every highway and the thought of heartless strangers passing you by, not caring for your name.

You missed him. His warm body pressed against yours and his golden, brown skin; you missed him selfishly ⎯  your comfort zone walked away and resentment grew alongside the fondness. 

You hoped he was happy without you, but not too much.

When your co-workers asked you about him, a few days after he packed his bags, all you gave them was a shrug and a poor explanation, the kind that everyone does: we were incompatible, it wasn’t meant to be, I wasn’t ready. The list went on and on.

The only one to not probe was good old loyal Yoongi. He was indifferent enough to other people’s personal lives not to ask. When you told him, he patted you on the shoulder awkwardly and placed your coffee by your desk with extra whipped cream. 

Saturday afternoon, March 22nd @ Rosefell Nursing Home.

Violet Bowen was not, by any means, what you’d call a reliable witness. She seemed pale beyond human comprehension and her words mostly consisted of hummings or muttering. The moment you saw her, you felt a sting of empathy too strong to ask her of her missing, possibly outlaw brother.

She had no other relatives nor close visitors, except for a caring ex-neighbor who’d bring her flowers every Friday. With nails painted a deep shade of red, she looked to be around eighty, but you couldn’t quite tell. Violet was in poor condition, plagued by dementia and the loneliness of lost loved ones. 

Her caretaker is a vibrant, blonde nurse. A blonde Southern belle whose name tag read in big, uppercase letters.

CAROLYN R. NURSING ASSISTANT

It’s Yoongi who interrogates Violet, remaining unaffected by her lost gaze and brown eyes. He flashes her a picture of her brothers back in the 80’s, sporting what looks to be fluffy mullets. 

She smiles then and her shaky hands point at Adam, but nothing else comes out of her aside from a gleam of life in her eyes. Even if she knew where they were, she wouldn’t tell them a word. 

Carolyn’s smile grows disconcerted. Her hands lay on Violet’s forearm as she pulls a thick chunk of her blonde hair out of her face in typical Southern charm. 

“I think my girl’s had enough here, yes?” She forces a grin, glancing over at Violet. “If you’ll excuse us, it’s tea time.” 

Carolyn helps Violet out of her seat and into the cafeteria. You’re not sure if it’s bad timing or a deliberate attempt from the nursing assistant to end this conversation, but you’re leaning on the latter. Off they go, taking slow, mindful steps away from both of you.

You refuse to look at Violet’s way. Something about her made you want to cry your heart out; the thought of loneliness being an imminent threat to you, too. 

“It’s pointless, Yoongi,” you mutter in your seat, slouching your shoulders. “She’s not going to remember anything.”

He hates to agree. Yoongi tsks, fiddling with his watch.

“Did you check her records at the reception?” He glances over at you, mind brimming with some sort of nefarious idea.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I mean- I didn’t check if she had any funds… It looks like all her properties and money were confiscated by the government, but I should run a background check on her bank accounts, to be sure.”

Monday afternoon, March 24th @ Tech Unit, Information Management Division.

Jenny’s doodles lie by her desk, making the room feel like a high school classroom. You haven’t spoken to her since December; what was once a blossoming friendship wilted away thanks to your cowardice and the desire to protect her from Deputy McKinnon’s claws. If Jenny found out, she’d jump the gun. 

And she didn’t have the best aim.

Her Naruto sketches have improved greatly since you last saw them, a massive improvement for just a couple months. Both of you used to laugh at her poorly drawn stick figures, now it looks like she’s ready to take her comics career seriously. You’re happy for her ⎯  she’ll find a way out of this hellhole.

The air is thick and humid in the early Spring, but filled with an extra layer of awkwardness when she sees you from across the room. Jenny’s strides towards her desk are heavy with grief and resentment, but she holds her gaze your way.

“Have you had enough space from me after not picking up my calls?” She slides onto her chair, scribbling a few notes onto her monthly planner. “Long time no see, idiot.”

You don’t have much to say for yourself, even when your chest pangs with her affectionate, yet sarcastic use of the word idiot. 

“A lot happened, is all,” you gesture sheepishly, hands reaching for the insides of your pockets.

“I can imagine.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny… I didn’t mean to-” 

She looks up at you, eyes drenched with irony and something.. something which you can’t name. If it’s hatred or love, you can’t tell.

“Wat’cha want?”

You swallow dry and uneasy, unfolding the paper on your hand with Violet Bowen’s name and address. It’s crumpled and a little thorn ⎯  you were ready to throw it away seconds before coming into the Tech Unit.

“I- I need a background check on someone,” you mutter, lowly. “Bank account activity… Credit cards… Anything you can find from the last… thirty years, maybe?” 

Your attempt at a chuckle fails, denouncing your regret. Jenny notices the furrow of your brows and how concerned you seem, ripping the paper away from your hands. 

“Sure.” 

The seconds fill with silence. You stand by her desk, waiting for a snide comment, a spiteful joke, anything. She looks at you like she knows you want to apologize again.

“Nice sketches!” You smile as a desperate invitation to make friendly conversation. 

Jenny doesn’t cave in.

“You’re dismissed,” she nods at the doorway and hops onto her laptop. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

Monday night, March 24th @ Agent ____’s home.

“Hey,” you mutter over the phone. “Just checking up on you and mom.”

“Finally!” Albeit sarcastic, your younger sister’s voice is nothing but chirpy, as it has always been. “We miss you, you idiot. You know that, right?”

Over the phone, you can hear your mom’s laugh and a few unintelligible words. It seems she’s adjusting to your dad’s absence. Somehow, you had stopped calling after the funeral. It’s not that you didn’t miss them back ⎯  you were sick of being flooded with memories every time you’d hear her voice. Like your dad was still there too, right beside her.

“Sorry, sweetcheeks. I’ve just been busy.” The explanations and apologies roll off your tongue.

“You know you can’t avoid us forever, right?” Her voice is so sober, it’s as if she’s older than you by a million years. 

When you gaze out the window, loneliness overcomes you. The years spent playing hide and seek in your childhood home are long gone, replaced by miles of distance between you and your family ⎯  how you became so caring and so bad at expressing it like your father. You hate how much of you is made of all the people you love. And miss.

“You there?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m sorry.” 

“I swear to God, you gotta stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“This.” She pauses. “Acting like we don’t exist. Seriously. We miss you.”

A pang of guilt flashes through your chest. 

“I know.” Your voice is small through the phone again. In between the anxiety and the seconds, you fiddle with your bracelet. “I’m sorry.. It’s been hell.”

“I promised you I wouldn’t tell mom about your breakup, but she keeps asking me. It wouldn’t hurt if you opened up for once.” She sounds more hurt than angry, vindicating your mother after all the months you spent avoiding calls and texts under the pretense of your busy adult job.

Even in the softness of her voice, her words feel harsh. You gulp down a threatening tear, staying silent on the phone. She was still right, though.

“Listen, we love you, okay? I don’t know what kind of shit you’re going through because you won’t tell me everything.. but dude, please, seriously just come visit us sometime. I know you’ve got your job and all, but act human for once. Please?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll try. I promise.”

“Good. I gotta go now. Mom wants to go grocery shopping for some french-whatever-pie and I promised her I’d help. Give Circe my love!”

You chuckle, sadly.

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you guys soon.”

When the call ends, silence deepens. It’s your own doing, you know, but that doesn’t make it any less suffocating. Even when you crave solitude, you’re just plagued by loneliness. 

Wednesday morning, March 26th @ Java café.

Today, Yoongi thinks you look a little better. And by better, it means rested. Of course, your gaze is still very much zombie-like, with glimpses of terror in your eyes when you look away. 

But in this line of work, it ain’t all rainbows and sunshine.

It’s never rainbows and sunshine, he realizes.

“So,” you sigh.

“So.” Yoongi punctuates, giving you room to breathe.

Your eyes are distant, watching children play in the puddles from last night’s rainstorm. The weather has been cruel to this city, punishing sinners and saints alike with a dreadful fog in the mornings and plenty of humidity to drive your hair follicles to the brink of insanity.

“Bowen’s alive, Yoongi. There’s a big chance he just… got away with it.”

Your words aren’t met with so much enthusiasm. You suppose it’s the skepticism in this field ⎯ even the good news don’t feel like good news. Before his questioning and theorizing begins, Yoongi brings up a valid concern.

“Why didn’t his brother spill his whereabouts, though? It’s not like Adam had any reasons to protect his brother any longer.”

“Unless he did.” You counter-argue.

“Why, though? It doesn’t make sense. In ninety percent of the cases, you know what happens. So-called partners in crime turn against each other. It’s good ol’ politics.” Yoongi leans back in his chair, nodding at the waitress for more coffee.

“Maybe he had something to lose,” you purse your lips. The biting of your inner cheeks is such an instinctive habit of yours that it barely stings until you realize how much tension you’re holding in. “Or someone, you know?”

“Several someones.” Yoongi blinks. “Do you remember the Mormon Heritage cult?” His eyes narrow as he scrapes the top of his head.

Your back and forth is interrupted by the local waitress pouring hot black coffee onto Yoongi’s cup. He seems like he’s on a roll today ⎯  it’s his third cup. That you know of.

“Uhhh, kind of. They were a thing in the nineties, weren’t they?” 

“Yeah.. well… the Satanic panic might’ve contributed to that,” Yoongi nods, slipping his mobile out of his pocket. His fingers are hasty, typing up a Google search so he can word vomit every single fact possible. “But we know that the Jesus believers can somehow always be worse.”

He sounds so snarky, it earns a laugh out of you.

“The Bowens were around that time,” he says. “I mean ⎯  the connection seems unlikely, but with these people, you never know.”

You sigh. 

“McKinnon didn’t give us this case for nothing, huh?” Even with half a smile on your face, you can’t help but feel defeated.

“Cheer up, buttercup. I think we got a lead.” He smiles with his teeth for once in a lifetime, raising his eyes from his phone to meet yours. You know he is up to no good ⎯ and that can only be a good thing.

“Buttercup?”

monvante © 2021 - 2024. all rights reserved. do not copy, edit or redistribute my work.

[skibasyndrome]

💜 wilmon; (another version, please. And maybe I'll forgive you)

"I wish you were here."

sushsjjsuaiaja okay yeah I had a lot of people raising their fists at me for going with the sad version on this prompt yesterday, so I'm glad you came back to force me to do the right thing and redeem myself 💀 it's a little horny, nothing too nsfw, though

"I wish you were here," Simon sighs, shifting to get little more comfortable on top of the hotel sheets. A family holiday sounded like a great idea, until he realized that that meant having to go two whole weeks without Wille. Which for the most part isn't a problem at all, but in the evenings he does notice. Whether he'd like to admit it or not, but he's gotten so used to Wille's presence that falling asleep without him is hard. Especially without Wille's kisses and Wille's touches and without Wille spooning him. Wille's affirmative hum sounds a little tinny through the headphones, but it's so much better than not hearing him at all. He sounds tired, and understandably so, the six hours of time difference mean that it must be something like four a.m. back home in Stockholm right now. "Wish you were here, too," Wille sighs, sounding tired and soft and content, and Simon thinks it's an absolute crime that he doesn't get to cuddle up to him right now. Doesn't get to nuzzle his neck and kiss his shoulder. The thought of his boyfriend all alone in their spacious bed right now is doing all kinds of things to him, it's like his own memory is taunting him with images of Wille in his adorably oversized pajama shirt, Wille with his towel-damp hair, Wille's warm body, that Simon just wants to press himself against and slowly run his hands all over and- Oh, this is really not helping. Neither is Wille, who lets out another breathy sound on the other end of the line. Simon bites his lip, feeling a little sheepish about the spark that ignites in his tummy at the sound. He knows he probably shouldn't, Wille is tired and has had a long day, and still he agreed to talk to Simon, set his alarm so he could be there when Simon got back to the hotel. He shouldn't, but now that he's finally got Wille with him again, after going the first four days here without being able to talk to him, he can't shake the thoughts. Can't stave off the heat coursing down and settling behind his belly button. He shifts, feeling himself straining against his pajamas pants. "Wille?" he asks, noticing the waver in his voice. The silence in the room suddenly feels a lot louder than before, and Simon involuntarily holds his breath until he hears Wille's "mmh" through his headphones. It's a little silly how heavily Simon's heart is beating inside of his chest. This is Wille, after all. The worst he can do is tell him no, and then they'll just keep talking about other things until Wille gets too tired and Simon can jerk off alone later. But the quiet, no sound aside from their breaths discernible... something about the secrecy of whispering to Wille through the phone in the dark of night - the thrill of it all makes him feel on edge in a way he hasn't in a long time. He takes too long to answer, lets the moment stretch on. It's now Wille who's speaking into the quiet. "What is it, Simon?" he asks, voice a bit rough from sleepiness, but now a little more alert with concern, and somehow he feels so close right now, even when they couldn't be farther apart. Simon sucks in a deep breath, fighting back the images in his head of large hands moving over his body, of a wet mouth trailing kisses and nibbles down his chest, of a warm solid body pinning him against the bed. "What would you do to me if I was there with you right now?"

Thank you thank you thank you for giving me the chance to do my second idea as well! 🙏💜💜💜

Send me "Wilmon" + a sentence and I'll write you 5 (+) more