#i didn't have to put it in but i lack any kind of self control

[videogamelover99]

OKAY BUT LISTEN. LISTEN. I WANNA BREAK DOWN SOME OF THE PANELS FROM THIS SCENE CAUSE UH. This is like a powerpoint of the audience realizing the Sheep are not Chuuya's friends.

First off, baby? Baby. Also Chuuya's body language in the art is so, like, embarassed/self-conscious teen, except instead of the problem being hanging out with the wrong people in high school its...Mafia-level stakes. Anyway, Chuuya curling up while hiding from his "friends" immediately gives you a sense he is not the one in control.

Dazai-like expression who? Chuuya is putting on a mask so eerily similar...it gives us some great parallels.

Chuuya unnecessarily apologizing to Shirase? Yeah. Straight from the book.

Insane over Shirase's solid B+ gaslighting. I don't remember if these lines are from the book, but Shirase implying Chuuya's the one "acting like a tyrant" when he literally didn't do anything?? Except ask politely for favors? Throughout the whole conversation he's been the polar opposite. But hey, maybe Shirase's just projecting.

Haha, "somehow".

Nothing to add here except Shirase's body language in this is SO much better than the anime. In the anime he just acted mad and kinda hot-headed. Here he's smiling, acting friendly, giving off those "ofc I'm on your side Chuuya but you make it so hard for these made-up reasons" vibes. Shirase is opportunistic, manipulative, he believes he has control over Chuuya, and therefore his ability.

Of course, Dazai can tell immediately what Shirase is doing. That Shirase has more power over Chuuya than Chuuya does over any of the Sheep (which is once again reinforced by the body language. Shirase's arm over Chuuya's shoulders, swamping him. Being physically taller than Chuuya. Chuuya just kind of standing there, passively.

Also despite what Shirase seems to believe, he and the other Sheep are not one bit smarter than Chuuya. They're eagerly celebrating their victory when Chuuya can clearly tell this is some sort of plan on Dazai's part.

Dazai destroying any leverage they had over Chuuya and yet knowing there's some reason Chuuya is doing this anyway. Offering him a choice.

As I've said before (and it's more obvious than ever in the manga) Shirase's using it to gain Mafia territory by getting some of their members captured. I've stated this before, and we do get a confirmation:

The "self defense rule" is something Chuuya explicitly created. To not strike unless provoked. I have a lot of thoughts on this and why but that's not for this post.

And we have!! Dazai getting pissed off on Chuuya's behalf!! He's scary.

(Spoiler alert: they are not his friends.)

Ahhhh

Ahhhhhhhh

Guys I love this chapter. Because on one hand, Shirase, like the rest of the Sheep, have very legitimate fears. They're literally a bunch of kids that used to be preyed on by other organizations, and if Chuuya is not guaranteed to protect them, then...well...they're in horrible danger, really.

The problem is that Chuuya is ready to protect them. But they don't trust him, and it seems they never have. The whole thing is built on Shirase (and probably the others) holding some kind of emotional and social power over Chuuya, therefore guaranteeing their safety. But when that's not longer the case, well, they don't trust Chuuya to protect them. I'm curious how the manga is going to adapt Dazai's whole "meat" story later on because the issue isn't a selfish conflict of interest. The issue is trust, and the lack of it between Chuuya and the rest of the Sheep.

It's like the Sheep built their gang on high school clique rules, and didn't realize Chuuya's not just operating out of a sense of obligation and need to belong, but genuine care. Anyway, that's all I have to say. The art is beautiful.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #soukoku #fifteen manga #fifteen light novel #shirase

[tiyoin]

pt.4 | 📍pt.5

rewrote, edited and proofread chapter five cause I thought it was horseshit and you guys deserved more from me. 🫶

numb.

you tried to feel numb.

doing everything in your power to push down any kind of emotion that was ready to slip through your mask.

look ahead, stand tall, put one foot in front of the other so no one would know you were wearing a confidence coat that was 2 sizes too small.

don't breathe too loud they'll hear you.

don't step too loud they'll think about your weight.

don't blink too much they'll think you're fluttering your lashes at them.

don't tuck your chin in they'll think you're gross.

gross for what exactly? everything.

don't mess up the stepping pattern or else you'll look like a bumbling idiot as you try to get back on the rhythm.

don't clench your fists they'll think you're mad and unapproachable.

don't smile because you're not in front of a mirror where you can control how much you want to give away.

don't think too hard or else you'll become enraptured with your daydreams and you won't be able to take part in reality.

don't do anything with your lips or else some air will come in and create a sound that sounds similar to a fart. then they'll think you're extra gross.

all these rules you had to follow to 'be normal,' weren't an actual set of rules, but a lifestyle. you wouldn't get collared if you didn't do one of the rules, you wouldn't get yelled at or reprimanded.

you were okay. to your knowledge that is.

on the outside, you probably looked like you had a stick up your ass. always in a rush to get to where you needed to go. like one of those rolling backpack kids back in your world. whenever they would pass they'd take casualties with them. rolling over toes, pencils, teachers- there was nothing in their way they couldn't bulldoze through.

you were just missing the wheels and will of iron it took to be seen with such a… what’s the right word- atrocity, in public, let alone an all-boys school.

underneath the habits and self-induced numbness, past all the anxiety and fear there was a tickle. not an actual tickle, but a sudden feeling you couldn't identify. it wasn't rage or frustration. you weren't sad or envious... you think- it was something gentler than that.

something softer yet just as negative was infesting your heart and mind like a slow-acting poison. poisoning your thought process, your habits, your attitude, and your livelihood.

though the breeze and sunshine walking to class supplied your flesh with warm- there was a chill over your heart. the beams of warmth too short to reach into the many cracks and holes that were created. sometimes you thought there was a bug. a big, juicy parasitic bug that would suck away your hopes and feast on your memories. It had a sweet tooth that was for certain, only targeting happy memories as it kept you with the bad ones.

did you ever have happy memories?

there was nothing you could do about the pestering leech. it wouldn't go away with Kalim's warmth and silver's calm. two sides of the same coin.

but no matter how many times you flipped: heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails would never work.

yes, you would smile, you would laugh- put on a poor show to convince yourself and others that there was nothing wrong. Everything was okay deep down and inside your twisted little mind. 

sometimes, you weren't sure who exactly you were performing for. 

"why am I scared to laugh" you remembered asking yourself one night, putting down your jester's hat for the evening. 

looking in the dusty mirror, your eyes carefully roamed your face, ticking off imperfections as you scanned every feature, scrutinizing every fold, and every slight bump on your skin. saving the most obvious imperfection for last, you finally acknowledged the brewing red horn ready to grow on the side of your forehead.

you knew it was a normal thing that teenagers of all ages experienced. but you felt especially helpless now, with the lack of beauty supplies and makeup. but with a quick brush of your hair, the brewing red horn disappeared behind some tresses of hair.

"I look like a demon"

...

"though if it was on my nose, i'd look like rudolph"

there was no punchline. yet the observation- not even an original comparison, made you laugh. 

A tiny huff puffed from your chest. though the more you imagined yourself with deer ears and a bright lobster red nose, you could feel your thoracic region start to shake. trying to push the sixth sense of judgment the walls were giving you, you forced yourself to laugh. holding onto this artificial laugh as long as you could. you hadn't laughed in a while. hadn't smiled in a minute. you'd barely look at yourself in the mirror most days.

gripping onto the vanity you watched your eyes crinkle and smile stretch. tripping and stumbling over scattered objects in your room you were still clenching your stomach nonetheless.

you felt like a tumbling tornado. clumsily tripping over everything with no set destination or concern for the things in your path. a shoe got kicked up. a pen you remembered liking got stepped and rolled on. a book you read a few nights ago kicked to the door as you set your eyes on your bed. with a few more violent acts towards inanimate objects, you carried your shaking body to bed.

this was it. you were going insane, weren't you?

all you needed was a canvas and paints and you'd truly become insane.

flopping down unceremoniously you let it linger for a second. sighing in contentment as you stared up at the ceiling.

you loved laughing, it was fun! but you were afraid to laugh, to live. remembering Kalim's quote of 'Everything is fun when you make it fun,' you wanted to scoff at his naivety. but Kalim was right.

if you made things miserable for yourself that's how they'll be.

directing your mind back to your head, you blinked owlishly.

oh. you were so caught up in the daydream you forgot you were in the hallways.

peeking through bumping shoulders, you tried looking towards the wall to check the room number.

"shit"

making a giant u-turn with as many 'excuse me's' and 'pardon me's,' you rerouted yourself back to your class. never having walked this way to class you were a bit hesitant. what if you walked by it again? what if someone is watching you and making fun of you for being a daft idiot?

breathe.

but what if you're late for class? crewel will have your hide- skin? doesn't matter what it is cause it'll be his. what if they all laugh when we're late-

we're not late yet it's only-

but when we get to class we'll be late!

perking up when you noticed the assigned numbers to your class, you weaved through the chattering sardines and beelined it to class.

no bell. no expectant crewel. no eyes besides from the easy-to-ignore front row. perfect.

the sigh you were holding in finally set itself free as you adjusted the grip of your books, and you strolled down the isles.

don't walk too fast they'll think you're strange.

but also don't walk too slow so they don't think you're lazy.

head down absent-mindedly adjusting your books, you followed your hand's cue and put your attention on a fixed thing. aka: your books.

but to your relief, you soon found your seat. with a huff, you unloaded the cargo pulled out some loose-leaf paper, and started writing.

writing what? not even you knew. but it made you look busy and that was important.

you didn't lay around in bed all day. you didn't continuously scroll through your phone to distract yourself. you didn't cry at night looking at everyone's socials, wishing it was you having fun. envy bubbling like a nasty tar in your bloodstream as you scorned everyone for having fun when you're miserbale-

"y/n!'

"oow"

sliding in next to you was silver. hair disheveled and tie ever so crooked, though he still looked really good-

pervert a voice whispered. tensing, you looked around and saw no one paying attention to your little corner.

"I tried calling you in the hallway." his boyish smile eased a beat in your rhythmic heart, only for it to take 2 more beats.

"y-you did?" you gulped.

silver nodded as he organized his books. "Yeah, but it's so chaotic and loud I'm guessing you didn't hear me" you nodded in agreement, tongue slipping over itself as you tried conjuring up an excuse.

"I- uh I'm really sorry I didn't hear you. I didn't even know you were there! I was kinda worried about not being elbowed to death." you didn't know why you were chuckling at the end but it felt scene-appropriate. you weren't sure if you believed what you told silver despite it being the truth.

was he going to refute it? was he going to give you a once over and mentally think 'how dare they ignore me' because all the diasomnia students you'd interact with had that very haughty, entitled personality?

 but to your slight dissatisfaction, silver only nodded in understanding.

"I'm real-"

"There's no-"

you both started at the same time, sharing a shy smile at the pause.

"you can go ahead" he nodded. Waving your hands, you disagreed. "you were talking first, I'm sorry, go ahead"

even though you gave the green light, silver still heisted to go. giving the air another few seconds before he started talking.

"there is no need to ask for forgiveness. I understand if you couldn't hear me, I'm not the most vocal after all. if only sebek were here" he mulled the last part. wincing at the name, you wanted to pinch yourself for slipping up. damnit you showed that you didn't like a person he was friends with- he'll hate you now. you're screwed, you screwed yourself. don't you understand that he's probably planning on running to sebek as soon as you leave? then everyone in diasomnia is going to hate you-

you nodded, tiny little yellow sponges in white shirts and red ties ran around your brain as a fire roared throughout- wherever they were inside your head.

you tried to push the flood of incoming thoughts into a box, a big red crate with a crab lock to be exact. you were feeling antsy, looking for anything to focus on besides the silver-haired upperclassman in front of you. 

sometimes you wish you were a computer. unable to feel and to only run on logic. it seems easier that way.

a thought bubble popped into your brain like an internet pop-up ad. 

did they even have computers in twisted wonderland? duh of course they do, they have phones after all.

the thought of twisted wonderland's technology started to swarm and hijack your train of thought. effectively taking out the conductor and changing its course.

did they also have an Industrial Revolution like the United States had? what was the start of it? which kingdom had it first? was there something to set off the alleged revolution? How is it the same and how is it different from your world's?

did magic have allay in it? of course, it did. but how did magic make it different than-

"y/n"

snapping your head at the familiar voice. you looked to silver. only able to take in physical information as the new conductor saw a hole in the tracks, pulling the breaks almost immediately.

"you okay there?"

slowly you nodded, as a few members of the hijacking team jumped out of the train- some ideas and questions with it.

"yeah.. sorry about that, kinda got lost in my train of thought there"

nodding with understanding, silver started talking about how he would sometimes start nodding off when he was talking to someone. half paying attention, half trying to save the train- your brain was split in half as you took in all internal and external information.

until you heard the magic words everyone loves to hear: "what were you thinking ab-"

"The Industrial Revolution"

"... pardon?"

anddd you failed, the train fell into the deep deep gorge that the tracks would normally allow the said train to glide over... but alas! they were gone! blown to smithereens as it guided the train into the deep cavern. a big explosion followed soon after. 

"dont worry about it" you brushed him off. saved by the bell as Crewel stood up, riding crop in hand yelling out orders like a drill sergeant.

silver scooted closer. you scooted back, the original distance between you two doubling. you were focused on writing your name, date etc & etc, on another loose-leaf paper.

the dreamy-eyed second-year made some noises before he knew what he was going to say. he started softly "are you okay"? but then grew slightly louder as unease set in "from... last class? I mean I know yuu told me it was a touchy subject but... i just wanted to check in"

your pencil screeched to a halt as the words 'yuu told me-' chanted in your head. it was the only thing you could focus on because what did he mean 'yuu said-'. "what did yuu say." you spoke, voice stable for the first time that morning.

silver's tongue tied itself as he fixed his hair a bit. "well..." he straightened up slightly, "after you stormed... no, escape is a better word. after you escaped the classroom yuu followed before i could. but crewel ended up stopping me before i could even move. and i asked yuu what happened the next time i saw them and asked how you were doing.. to sum it up: they told me you get nervous around new people soo"

dread set over you like a fast-approaching shadow.

oh no. he thinks you're a weird socially inept loser doesn't he? he thinks you're some kind of loser that doesn't go out weekends, weekdays, any day for all that matter. he probably makes fun of you with sebek. right?

"ah well," you cleared your throat. a lie already on the tip of your tongue "I mean it's like- a yes and no kinda thing. I didn't have a lot of guy friends when I was younger so being thrust" you thrust your hands in emphasis "into an al guys school has been quite the adjustment."

quickly, your mind conjured up a painting of a small house in a meadow filled with wildflowers. it was the only thing you could see for miles. it was a nice house with a straw roof, a smoking brick chimney, and a little garden outback. the only problem with the house is that you blew it up.

 with nuclear missiles. 

and the intensity of the blast was so strong that it created a small crater in the earth, no traces of the house were left as it's entire existence was reduced to ash and rubble all because of you.

the urge to bash your head into the nearest wall like intruding hornets slipping through a crack in an attic to terrorize a small family. there goes your social life right?? what soil life? you killed it before you could even nurture it!

your mouth and mind were running on autopilot while your conscience went blank.

your mouth was a fountain that spewed water everywhere. trying to get yourself out of the hole you dug yourself- crater, more specifically.

"but uhhh yeah, no you're good! you're different and I'm quite glad I got partnered with you since you're not as..."

"boisterous?" silver quipped.

you nodded. silver chuckled, leaning further away from you. "yeah me too. if I got paired with one of your friends only the sevens know how much damage that'll do to my physical and mental well-being"

you both discreetly looked over at the rest of the class watching as all pairs seemed to be in some kind of chaos. whether it's floyd being impulsive, grim trying to add the wrong chemical into a potion. (you didn't even need to know what they were making to know that whatever he's trying to sneak in- doesn't belong there.)

and you were thanking whatever god the people of twisted wonderland worshipped that you weren't paired with one of the adeuce combo. ace would try to take control of the project, pretending he knew what he was doing while simultaneously giving you backhanded compliments on your intelligence. only to ruin the entire project and somehow find a way to blame you for it. 

meanwhile, deuce and you would be two peas in a squished pod: not knowing what you're supposed to be doing and ultimately winging it as you tried to match your hot barbie pink potion to crewel's muted blush potion. knowing the both of you, it would end up navy blue and when crewel went to fix it he would add a pinch of fleabane- a literal pinch, and it'd be fixed. embarrassing the both of you for all eternity.

"I wonder which group is gonna blow up the lab first mused quick to shut your lips, you were quick to wish for a sewing kit to forcefully shut you up.

but a small voice whispered 'it's better to take risks than stay comfortable.'

and silver seemed... nice.

silver looked out at the crowd for a moment longer, turning to you he started slowly, "while the yuu, grim, and ace trio seem to be the most obvious choice...." he thought carefully, "epel and deuce seem to be at a loss of what to do and are about 6 shade off. which surprised me since epel is in pomfiore"

"he's actually sh- really-" you started again, taking a moment to think over what you were going to say "I heard that epel's not that great at potions despite being under vil's careful watch...." silver's eyes widened, replying with a soft 'really?' as he looked back to the groups with newfound interest.

you to yourself "never judge a book by its cover" you shrugged, immediately turning to your work. anxiously, you waited for a response. 

although circumstances are vastly different- is this how people felt when in the talking stage? if so it was a dreadful experience. 

before your pessimistic thoughts could even start, silver responded with a chuckle, enviably agreeing with your statement. you could almost sweat with relief as an invisible weight got lifted from your shoulders.

silver seems nice...

a new voice, meek and unsteady although louder than the usual pessestimic ones in control. and for once, you allowed yourself to feel the slight comfortable tingle it gave you.

the hope and drive to that you haven't felt or experienced in a while.

you wished to get closer to him.

taglist : @abell2029cluster @a1-ic3 @ars-tral @xingyunny @creamsweets @skei2p @dn4su @jjsmeowthie @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @nefe-kav @d3sperate-enuf @y2unagiz @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @mel-star636 @7yu @lucky-whispers

#twisted anxiety 🌀 #I was low-key ashamed with the last chapter ngl despite all your comments. I hope this makes up for it 🫶 #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #tiyoin 🔎 #azul x reader #silver x reader #malleus x reader #idia x reader #vil x reader #leona x reader

[valen-nidk]

Family dynamic. | Vox's sibling!Reader.

Content: Implicit imposter syndrome, subtle hints of depression. General description of S.Reader's relationship with The Vee's.

A/N: Probably the last thing you'll see of this particular reader unless I get requests for potential relationships with other Hazbin hotel characters.

Frankly, Hell wasn't exactly what you had in mind, if anything, this particular ring of Hell was like Earth with extra steps and fancier titles: people (read: sinners) still got killed, sometimes there was a transactional reason behind, sometimes just because ; consent was also a bit of a myth here too ; politics? Not exactly. Religion? Uh, duh — after all, the fancy titles previously mentioned were: Archangels, Seraphims, Angels, Sinners and Hellborns (was Adam his own category? His title was First Man and, according to some sources, he had self-proclaimed as Dickmaster or the original dick).

The only upside thus far was that your physical form was kind of cool (literally, a humanoid robot so... an android that had to regulate its body temperature to not overheat), no bones ached, no muscles hurt and you couldn't get sick (a virus, maybe...?) plus your cult leader brother was, to no one's surprise, a cult leader! With the power of hypnosis which, in retrospective, was kind of like his gig back on Earth with manipulation skills that had been perfectly crafted and mastered throughout years and years of studying the human psique and emotions.

The TV head was... new. Unexpected, certainly hilarious even if the context was gruesome to an extent. It made sense, same goes with you: the right-hand, the prophet of this newfound god. Although your form was different since you died electrocuted because of a faulty electrical connection.

Ah yes, what is there to do in Hell..? The Radio Demon had gone missing as well as Lilith, part of you heavily believes that those two separate events are, in fact, connected despite the lack of evidence. A hunch though without something to back it up, you kept quiet — after all, you weren't a big mastermind, though you did enjoy chaos and creating a ridiculous amount of back-up plans in case something went terribly wrong. Cautious? Anxious? Oh, yeah. Your stubborn egotistical brother was careless when going through his many power-trips or when his rage made his (seemingly) perfect persona crack, hence why you just had to have ways to ammend any and all mistakes. Problems made you uneasy, utterly sick — gotta fix 'em, gotta have potential solution for every possible scenario no matter how insane they could be. You never know! You have to know, a sense of being capable of choosing, to own something, just about any single aspect of your life just had to be yours to control.

Nonetheless... Hell, huh. What to do? Unlike Vox, your powers were quite limited and served as support for his, rinse and repeat a life on that one. Besides that, you weren't an official Vee member, more like an honorary one — and thanks to you being a charmer, a problem solver (people-pleaser) and overall someone who rather live comfortably, well... You started babysitting looking after Valentino whenever Vox was too busy (read: didn't want to put up with his bullshit) and this lead to uhhh, unwillingly being dragged to his studio. The porn actors loved you, which made Valentino hate you but also love you as well because "motherfuckers are more willing to cooperate when there's una cara bonita como la tuya around these parts" while squeezing your 'cheeks' (screen). Yeah, you didn't get why Vox wanted this mothman carnally, though his voice was podcast material, the accent? Delicious.

Now when it came to the backbone of The Vee's, it was a trickier situation — mostly due to not having an actual reason to interact with Velvette. Sure, you guys exchanged texts like roasting Vox and Valentino, gossip, some blackmail material... Memes, selfies, the very basic. Being physically in the same room was comfortable, pleasant silences while sitting next to each other and showing funny videos from your respective devices ; or sharing private conversations that were hilarious with or without context, that's for sure! Oh and, let's not forget that this fashionista icon and unforgiving social manager will absolutely roast you if you are dressed like last century. Still, she was kind to you and, in return, you behaved the same way — work collegues, or flatmates would be a way to describe how you two got along.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #🧍 he speaks #hazbin hotel imagine #vox x reader #valentino x reader #velvette x reader #vox x male reader #valentino x male reader #velvette x male reader #vox x gn reader #valentino x gn reader #velvette x gn reader

[ink-n-shadowfiction]

Just stumbled across your blog and I’m in love with your writing!! Especially bodyguard!Simon? Cmon the tension is DELICIOUS

If I may submit a request/put an idea in your head: if Simon thinks rockstar!reader is hot in leather pants, imagine Simon being around her in a bikini!!! Maybe they’re on vacation somewhere, idk. But I could only imagine his lack of self control LMAO

Sunscreen and Stolen Glances | bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley

thank you sm :') i appreciate the kind words AND especially appreciate this request because i'm: feral for it (also pls send more for this au! or any other au you'd like to see)

pairing: bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley x rockstar!fem!reader (link to all works in this au)

genre: suggestive??? somewhere between fluff and angst and smut

word count: 936

warning: basically Ghost putting sunscreen on you and losing his mind a little (minors—DNI just in case)

You finally had some downtime in your busy schedule. From concerts to interviews to red carpet appearances, you felt like you were being pulled in every single direction imaginable. That was why as soon as you found out you'd have an entire week off, you jumped at it.

"C'mon, hurry up. I wanna go check out the pool, Ghost." You huffed out a whine as you stood in the middle of the beach house you had rented for the week, arms crossed over your chest.

Ghost shot a glare in your direction as he set your suitcases and bag down on the tiled floor next to his one singular duffle bag. "Jesus, dove. Give me five fuckin' seconds to put the bags down, yeah? What, y'need me to hold your hand out there? Go check it out yourself."

You rolled your eyes at Ghost's words as you padded towards the sliding glass doors and expansive windows of the living room, pulling the door open and feeling the midday heat outside hitting your skin.

The patio and pool area outside was all white marble, a glass fence separating the patio from the pool desk. It was luxurious, sure, but most of all, it was private—covered in thick trees and bushes to shield from any prying eyes. No fans, no paparazzi, just you and Ghost.

You didn't bother waiting for Ghost as you stepped out onto the patio, feeling the breeze sweeping across your skin and the sun beating down on you. Your fingers made quick work to unbutton your jean shorts.

"Dove, which room did you say was—" Ghost stepped out onto the patio, eyes growing a bit wide as he watched you stripping off the clothes you'd worn for the plane. His gaze immediately focused on the black bikini you had on underneath, the way it hugged the curves of your body and left very little up to his imagination. He cleared his throat as he turned his head away to stare at the pool in front of him.

A soft giggle rolled off your tongue as you noticed the sudden shift in Ghost's demeanor, your lips stretching into a teasing smile. "What's wrong, Ghost? Cat got your tongue or something?"

Ghost let out a scoffed breath, arms crossing over his chest once more and making the muscles of his biceps strain against his black t-shirt. His eyes remained off into the distance, jaw tense under the balaclava still stretched over his face. "You're insufferable. Y'gonna be like this all week?"

"Like what—wearing a bikini? Duh." You brushed past Ghost to head down the wooden stairs towards the pool desk, body stretching out across a lounge chair with a soft sigh. You knew Ghost was still fighting to look anywhere but your body glistening in the sun. "Grab the sunscreen for me? I think I left it in my pink suitcase."

You heard Ghost grumble something under his breath before disappearing for a few moments, only returning once he had the tube of sunscreen in his hand. He held it out to you, keeping his eyes locked on your face. If he looked anywhere else, he knew he would explode. "Here. Now tell me which room's mine before I take the bigger one anyway."

"Wait—can you get my back for me?" You pouted softly as you turned over onto your stomach, cheek laying on your bent forearms and squishing your face a bit. "I don't wanna burn, Ghost."

A muscle in Ghost's jaw twitched at your words, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pulled the sunscreen back into his grip. "For fuck's sake, dove...can't do one bloody thing for yourself, can you?" But he complied, pulling the leather gloves off of his thick fingers and letting them fall to the pool deck below.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you listened to Ghost squeezing the suncream out of the tube, lathering it between his palms before gently brushing his sunscreen-covered hands along your back. A soft sigh fell from your lips.

The gentle touch was a stark contrast to his calloused hands—the same hands you knew had killed many men back in his military days. Those same hands were now caressing your skin like you were made of porcelain, as if one sudden rough touch and you'd splinter into millions of little pieces. The thoughts alone made your head spin.

You didn't need to see Ghost to know that he was this close to snapping. You could feel it in the way he massaged the sunscreen into your skin, blunt nails scraping and the pads of his fingers pushing deeper against the flesh of your spine. "Don't forget the shoulders." You giggled softly as you let your body relax, focusing your attention on how good his hands felt against you.

"Don't fuckin' push it, dove." Ghost snarled softly as he moved up to your shoulders, making sure they were covered in the soft sheen of sunscreen before taking a step back. He tossed the tube of suncream onto your lounge chair and picked up his discarded gloves. "Do the rest yourself. You're not completely helpless."

You peeked your eyes open and let out a playful whine. You could see the tension in his body, the way his black slacks were a bit tighter in the front. "C'mon—you don't wanna get the back of my thighs?"

Ghost let out a shuddering breath as he turned away from you, marching up the wooden stairs with a stern shake of his head. If he put his hands on you again, he knew he'd lose any shred of control and professionalism he had left. "Get 'em yourself. M'not touching you again."

#iNs requests ⭒ #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod mwii #call of duty #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley oneshot #simon riley x you #bodyguard!ghost ✰ #simon ghost riley headcanon

[loki-us]

Welcome to my Mega Problematic Sylvie post

I wanted to make a list of everything problematic about Sylvie in s1 and s2 because she gets away with whatever she wants and it bugs me to no end that she never takes accountability for any of the pain she causes.

You have been warned. So let's get into it.

1. Sylvie’s way is the only way and she expects everyone else to just bend to her will without complaint

2. She is physically mentally and emotionally incapable of trusting anyone besides herself

3. She uses other people's emotions to manipulate them into getting what she wants

4. She refuses to even entertain the possibility that anything besides her own opinion is correct

5. She criticizes others' attempts to clean up the mess she caused while she herself does absolutely nothing about it

6. Always looking to ruin and run, taking the easy way out and avoiding any accountability

7. Puts her own need for revenge above the well-being of everyone else in the multiverse

8. Blames everyone else for the problems she herself caused

9. Insults everyone at the TVA for their lack of empathy despite it being the exact reason she didn't want to return in the first place. Every critique she delivers just illustrates how much of a hypocrite she is

10. Berates Mobius and all the people who are actually trying to fix her problem even though they never once blamed her for the mess they're in

11. Acts like she's doing everyone a favor just for being there and insulting everyone when in reality, Loki had to ask multiple times before finally getting her to return

12. Never willing to put in more effort than just destroying everything and walking away

13. Even when directly asked for her help, Sylvie straight up refuses. She couldn't care less about anything besides her McDonald's employee-of-the-month badge

14. Sylvie gaslights Loki into thinking they're the same, that she's not in the wrong because they're both only thinking of themselves. In reality, Sylvie is thinking only of going back to her own timeline, alone, while Loki is thinking only of making his friends happy, because that's what makes him happy too.

15. While being completely unsympathetic to Loki struggling with his greatest fear, Sylvie makes the decision that Loki's friend's are all better off where they are now. But is it really better for them, or just better for Sylvie?

16. And now, after 11 episodes and countless requests for Sylvie's help, she actually cares about the rest of the multiverse. And yet it's still solely because her own timeline is finally in danger

17. When Loki ends up sacrificing himself to solve the problem Sylvie created, her only response is a joyful shrug that she's now happy, alone, and responsibility-free.

Overall, I know Sylvie's only purpose as a character is to be a darker mirror of Loki and everything she does is understandably informed by her trauma. This is likely a result of having a limited-episode-series and having all male/not diverse writers creating female characters. Sylvie is used only as a comparison to Loki before he met Mobius, and unfortunately is never given any thoughtful character moments like Loki had showing how he was aware that his actions hurt others. In 1x1, Loki talks about how he doesn’t enjoy hurting people and only does it to maintain control. The only time we ever see Sylvie reconsider her actions is when she didn’t kill Timely, which I think is more because she saw herself in Timely as someone who didn’t want to be controlled by their ‘destiny,’ not because she developed any kindness or compassion toward him.

I understand the fact that Sylvie was never given someone like Mobius to allow her the opportunity to change like Loki did, but I don't think that should excuse her causing so much pain and being so self-centered. Sylvie never trusted or cared about anyone and that's also my biggest argument against Sylki; her loving or being driven by anyone besides herself is just so inconsistent with her entire character.

Anyway, my purpose here was not to be hateful or to search for any reason to criticize Sylvie, but instead to look critically at her character since I've seen a lot of people praise her as the strong, independent female Loki whose behavior can always be forgiven. Unfortunately, the way she was written is that Sylvie turned her own trauma into everybody else's problem and they all spent 2 seasons trying to clean up her mess. That's my take thank you and goodnight

#loki #anti sylki #this was so cathartic just let me have this #loki spends the whole season trying to save his friends and Sylvie blocks him at every turn #with her bad attitude and insults and gaslighting #it drives me irrationally bonkers #I’m not saying it’s Sophia’s fault or anything like that #I just wish they wrote her character better #can we get some more diverse writers #pls and thx #sylvie #mobius #loki series #loki tv #loki s2 #loki season two #loki season one #loki s1 #gifset #anti sylvie #thoughts-theories #loki-us blog

[wholoveseggs]

Mikaelsons & Marijuana

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

420 Followers

Hello my loves, I have reached the (very important) milestone of 420 followers! So I thought it would be a fun (& very stupid) idea to do some silly little headcanons about what kind of stoner each of the Mikaelsons would be...

♡♡ Ps. This is definitely the dumbest thing I've ever written, and I didn't tag anyone because I respect your time ~ lol ~ ♡♡

1k words - Warnings: drugs use

~☮~ Klaus ~☮~

- He smoked a lot of weed in the 18th century, mostly to just pass the time. It's not something he likes to make a habit of, because it makes him feel very human and that unsettles him.

- It somehow makes him more paranoid, but about stupid things, like, what if the reason he can't find a matching sock is because Kol is trying to make him think he's going crazy? Turn the family against him? Does Elijah really know what's in his shampoo?

- He will start a new painting every time he gets high, but never finishes it because he starts a new one when he's high again, and that one looks so much better, why would he finish this one when there's such a great one he can work on?

- He also gets really fascinated by the moon, he will just lay out on the roof or in the garden and just stare at it for hours. Wondering if he could survive the vacuum of space. Everyone ignores him when he gets like this, because they are afraid if he is even slightly encouraged, he’ll do it. Imagine him in charge of the ISS?? Terrifying.

~☮~ Rebekah ~☮~

- Her fav way to get high is through edibles. She will make a whole day out of it, baking the best treats and doing lots of self-care. It makes her very giggly and snuggly.

- She loves to take long baths when she's high, they make her feel like she's floating. She uses bath bombs, candles, rose petals, soft music, etc. Creating a relaxing environment for herself.

- She prefers to be alone, treats it a lot like meditation and will get a little annoyed if someone disturbs her.

- After all of the self-care she will put on her softest pajamas and sleep for at least a whole day.

~☮~ Kol ~☮~

- Kol is a bit of a scientist, always finding a new way to consume. He will try any form; smoking, vaping, edibles, drinks, dabs, tincture. You name it.

- He prefers to just smoke it, because it has the most powerful and immediate effect. He likes to see what it will do to his brain, or make him do. It makes him a very curious boy, he will test his own limits.

- As a witch, he will get his room all smoky and do stupid spells that will cause a light show. Sometimes the spells will even backfire on him and make him lose control of his limbs, or start levitating. It's pretty funny.

- As a vampire he gets incredibly horny and hungry, and often needs to be watched over so he won't go completely off the rails.

~☮~ Davina ~☮~

- Gets frightened and doesn't like the paranoia and lack of control. But sometimes she will try it with Kol and they will just cuddle and watch her favorite movies. He never pressures her to try it and always makes her feel safe.

~☮~ Elijah ~☮~

- Always refined, he will only smoke the best hydroponics mixed with the finest tobacco. It has to be premium and it has to be a very special occasion. He has to feel like he earned it, and that's difficult to do.

- He will spend a long time rolling it, making sure it's perfect. It's got to have just the right amount of weed, be perfectly shaped, the paper has to be perfectly smooth, the rolling motion has to be flawless and the filter just right.

- He can't stand the smell and will immediately shower afterwards, then he will get dressed up in his nicest suit, sit in his study and listen to classical music.

- If he gets really high he will want affection. He will lay with you and talk about some nonsensical philosophy, try to unpack things like the meaning of life. He will whisper poetry and kiss your cheeks. It's quite endearing, he gets all blushy and bashful.

~☮~ Marcel ~☮~

- He is always up for sharing, and always has the best bud on him. He will make it a very casual experience and offer some to the other vampire's that have been good to him. It's a time for everyone to unwind and chill for a little bit.

- He's definitely just a social smoker though, when he gets high alone he can fall into melancholy.

- He loves to get high with Rebekah, he will take her on the most elaborate and romantic dates, where they just eat an enormous amount of food... And maybe find someone to drink from together.

~☮~ Hayley ~☮~

- Has tried it a few times when hanging out with the werewolves. It makes her feel calm, and the colours around her just get brighter. She doesn't really understand it and isn't that into it, but she likes that she feels more connected to her pack.

- She likes to use CBD before she transforms into a wolf. It dulls the excruciating pain that comes from that, and she's grateful that it takes her mind off the torture for just a while.

- Jackson loves it, uses it in a spiritual way and is a very good guide for her on the matter. He makes her laugh and makes her feel safe when they are alone, sharing a joint, talking about life, and their plans for the pack.

~☮~ Freya ~☮~

- It freaks her out because it makes her feel sleepy and unfocused, which she does not enjoy at all. She finds it to be a waste of her time and feels like it could never be that enjoyable to be stoned all of the time, there are so many better ways to pass the time.

- But she will experiment with using it in her magic, and will make some potent edibles for her beloved sister. She does think it has some medicinal purposes.

- She is very fascinated by it, and will watch as the other's indulge. She will be the one to find Klaus watching the moon, it amuses her to see him so carefree.

~☮~ Esther ~☮~

- Didn't know exactly what it was one thousand years ago, but liked to add some to her tea. It would make the stress of living with Mikael much easier to deal with.

- Perhaps drank too much tea one day and had the genius idea to make her children immortal. Totally worked out well for her.

~☮~ Mikael ~☮~

- Would never, makes you weak and complacent. If you wanted to be so carefree and useless you might as well be dead.

~☮~ Finn ~☮~

- Tried it once, didn't inhale.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #tvdu #tvd #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #davina claire #freya mikaelson #hayley marshall #jackson kenner #marcel gerard #esther mikaelson #the mikaelsons #finn mikaelson #weed #drugs #cannabis

[goamu-blog]

I think I figured out why I didn't care much for Shen Yuan as a character. It's his attitude and mindset. Didn't like how he treated SQH. It was too close to antifan behavior and cyberbullying. Even if SQH didn't seem to mind as long as he was paid.

When he transmigrated, he was nice to everyone, but being decent doesn't take much effort, and I don't think I would call SY a kind person. To me, SY is rather self-centered and callous. He was mainly concerned about himself, which is fine and understandable, but he also doesn't seem concerned with the well-being of others. He was fine with letting the story go on as intended, with LBH terrorizing the world in the future, as long as he stayed alive.

He did return to the sect when LBH attacked it, but that was when he found out that LBH didn't want to kill him. He did help stop TLJ, but he had LBH and his protagonist halo at his side. Seems to me like SY is one that as long as it doesn't affect him, he will not care what happens.

SY never once thought if he could change the story in some way even if he had to follow what the system told him to do. All he had to do when the abyss happened was say something like, "LBH you can't control your powers and I can't protect you from the sect, you need to leave and the only way to do that is the abyss because we are surrounded by cultivators". But he never even tried to think of a different way the story could go.

He doesn't really understand emotions. The scene at the end of the mausoleum, when LBH was angry that SY seemed to be running from him again, and SY had the audacity to be so upset about that. When all SY has done up to that point was run and refuse to talk to LBH. There was no understanding as to why LBH was so upset.

It seems like the only way for SY to come close to understanding LBH emotions is if he goes through LBH mind. SY does care about LBH, but he doesn't seem to be able to deeply understand LBH without going through his mind. Seems like SY can't have a conversation with LBH where they come to an important understanding with each other.

It feels like SY and LBH getting together kind of just happened. Like SY just went along with it. Also, it feels like LBH puts more effort into the relationship than SY does, LBH is the one the usually initiates. And SY never apologized to LBH for how he treated him. I think that's why I don't care much for them as a couple.

SY never cared for the fact that he took over someone else's body even when he found out the truth of SJ. While yes, SJ did horrible things, he was also an abused former slave who never got a chance to heal from his past. And SY doesn't care that he essentially erased SJ and took over his life. SJ was always pushed to the side.

SY was a privileged young master that unwillingly took over the body of a former slave and got to benefit form the work that SJ did, and SY didn't pay him any mind every when he learned the truth. SY already had everything in his former life, and because of the work SJ did, SY was in a position to get even more, and SY doesn't care. He just pushed SJ aside.

Another thing that got to me about SY is just how oblivious and dense he is. Having oblivious characters is fine to a point, but SY level of obliviousness was borderline stupidity. Even by the end, I still don't think SY knows how emotions work.

A couple of other things, his internalized homophobia is never really addressed, nor his mentality about men and women. He is rather narrow-minded, and he doesn't really change throughout the series. He constantly commits my biggest pet peeves in characters, refusal to communicate, lack of self-awareness, and denial of reality. To me, SY feels like a surface level character. Even when he does realize something, it feels surface level to me.

Overall, I think SY didn't make me feel much for him, and when he did make me feel something, it was irritation because of his attitude and mindset. SY doesn't really change much throughout the series. On the other hand, SJ and LBH made me feel for them. SJ was only in one chapter and one extra, and he made me feel more the SY ever did. I don't think LBH was in the story as much as he should have been, but when he was, he made me feel something.

I feel like the series went too fast. It went from one event to the other without much breathing room in between for the characters. And characters like SJ and, to a lesser extent, LBH, were not in the story as much as I would have liked to see. The extras did help, but it wasn't enough for me.

#svsss #shen yuan #shen jiu #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #original shen qingqiu #danmei #mxtx #scum villian self saving system #scumbag system

[infoglitch]

I have opinions. On jaune. (Shipping wise)

To clarify this is just my opinion. And my opinion is

garbage

But I want to talk about my favorite noodle so stfu Im talking.

And this is not me going "oh this is how jaune should be treated in every single shiping fic". This is just me acting like I have a huge dick and stating my terrible, terrible opinions.

Let's start.

1: jaune doesn't get bitches. The Bitches, get him.

Not to some of you I know you're all kicking screaming vomiting and crying because "obobobo b-but jaune has to pull bitches! I-its the only way I can escape this cr-"

SHUT

First, Jaune is not a self insert nor is he a character we project ourselves on. he is a character who has flaws and has his own personality.

He's an idiot and most of the times is a pessimist trying to be an optimist.

He gets things wrong, and he does really dumb stuff like faking his transcripts. He's not you, he's not me, he's not anyone else aside from Jaune

So when I say he doesn't get bitches, that's not being mean it's just kind of the truth, Jaune does not have a lot of confidence and when he does flirt he does it in really terrible ways, (just ask V1-3 Weiss)

But that's not everything I say because I also made sure to add that the bitches get him. Jaune is the kind of character who fails when he's trying because hes trying to seem like he's got things under control, he's going overboard which results in him comically failing, but when he's just being himself being a genuine person he does things really well. He is very much terrible at flirting and man has no skill with women, and he lacks confidence. Which leads to number 2.

2: Jaune is not cool. (In a good way)

Look I love my noodle man but even I can admit he is cringy. He does things to the max when he sets his mind to it which will fail. Because when he does those things he doesn't have either the confidence or the understanding he needs to do it. Take literally any attempt with Weiss he's tried asking her out, he's failed constantly because one he tries to impress which with Weiss makes him seem like he's just another fake face, after her heart for her name (which he isn't, it's just due to misunderstanding) he runs head first without the context or the confidence. He tries to impress but he comes off awkward like he doesn't know what he's doing. (Like that one time he tried asking her to the dance by playing the guitar and FAILING miserably.)

But just because jaune doesn't have the confidence or understanding doesn't mean he can't be cool.

He just can't be cool all the time. Jaune is a terrible liar and he's just upfront alot of the time. He's genuine and he is metaphorically unable to actually hurt people without getting welled up with emotions.

He's only killed ONE person, ONE actual person and we all know what that did to me. He broke and he was probably horribly traumatized.

Next is number 3

3: JAUNE IS NOT A SEX PRO.

Do I even need to elaborate on this? Please I don't want to elaborate on this!

I have to? Oh god... Ok FINE I'll elaborate

There are many, MANY jaune fics that I don't like in certain aspects. And if their smut expecting to see atleast one thing.

Jaune not being a Dom. Or you know, not having experience.

Jaune.. is a idiot and he's... He's not skilled in a lot of things. And one thing that just BURNS me is jaune switching up and being all dominant and aggressive (that's one of the things I wanna avoid writing jaune as)

Just let the noodle be tender or Inexperienced, At least if this is his first time.

And on a semi-related note I remember reading this one nightshade fanfic that I really liked, where it had Blake asking Weiss for advice on Jaune when it came to sex and in the fic Blake had experience meanwhile jaune didn't and was nervous if they did fuck he wouldnt reach a vague standard he put. It was a really good fic, it was really hot as well and I can't find it and it drives me up the fuckin wall because I really wanna read it again because it helped prove my point when it comes to jaune having sex and it's just- UGH. (Please if you know what the fick is just message me the link I beg you, PLEASE of you find send it to ME!)

Look I just REALLY like jaune (to a concerning degree even) and I just REALLY wanna talk about how I view him and I just... I just can't cause I suck at writing essays cause my brains just-

"ok I'm gonna write this- OH I GOT A NEW IDEA IM GONNA WRITE THIS- oh but theres also this and- BUNNY RABBIT"

Ugh I hate my brain and my attention span.

Anyway my trashy opinions on my second favorite character aside. Have a golden day and cheers.

Rock on till ya drop tata mothafuckers 🤘

#rwby #jaune arc #rwby ships #my opinions are terrible.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

My 4th shot of Espresso~~~~Alastor x Reader

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Sinners being sinners, Anxietyy descriptors, some swear words, high amounts of caffeine consumption, alcohol consumption

Type: Story ( I had no control again and I made it so long)

Word Count: 6944

Playlist: Espresso- Sabrina Carpenter

Prompt: The reader was a singer in her past life, well-known in the human world for her sweet, sultry voice before her untimely death. The people of the overworld would say she was like a shot of espresso to your system. Now, in Pentagram City, a particular radio demon can't help but seek out his next caffeine high.

Notes: I will not lie to everyone; I am a hardcore Sabrina Carpenter fan. She is one of the few artists outside my regular music routine. She has a grip on me and my reptile brain.

Her song Espresso got me thinking of one Radio Demon specifically. The 1900s was a big time for coffee production (in the US, where I am from), mainly due to Prohibition, and it just so happens that right around the 1920s, espresso machines were introduced heavily in America. The FDA also recommends not going over 6 shots of Espresso, but many health professionals say not to go over 3 shots, so I will meet in the middle here.

My 4th shot of Espresso~~~~Alastor x Reader

The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time. 

How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.

Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.

As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self. 

Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.

All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue. 

~~~Years Later~~~

Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities? 

As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.” 

Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!” 

You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again. 

Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you. 

Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up. 

You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table. 

You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.” 

The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.” 

You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him. 

“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”

Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon. 

As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.” 

You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.

The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her. 

Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.” 

Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City. 

The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.” 

You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.

As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.” 

The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked. 

The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.” 

As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room. 

You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home. 

Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak. 

What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7. 

Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.

~~~Flashback~~~

You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside. 

Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”

Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail. 

He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.

Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.” 

You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music. 

As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.

~~~Present Day~~~

The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part. 

A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.

Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.

Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted. 

A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie. 

You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.

Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.

You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.

After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well. 

As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even. 

Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you. 

You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso. 

You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?”  You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano. 

He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you. 

Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid. 

All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #x reader #new writter #radiostatic #pentagram city #angel dust #charlie morningstar #vaggie #sir pentious #hazbin hotel husk #husker #niffty #radio demon #radio demon x reader #radio demon x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel

[wordy-little-witch]

Honestly I'm just gonna infodump on my Buggy AU bc I am a garbage mammal and I have work in like. 50 minutes. And I don't wanna be an adult.

So Buggy is a fae. His island was called Mystique, and he was about 4 when a preliminary approximate to a Buster Call was ordered. By that point, the fair folk of Mystique were considered high commodities to the wealthy and nobles. It was notoriously difficult to get TO the island, let alone get a person collared and smuggled off. The Fae there had many different kinds but all of them had a sort of "magic" that people didn't understand. ((In truth, it's an advanced branch of Observation Haki that kinda sorta mutated in their species to have a higher aptitude for. It's not IMPOSSIBLE to parn, but it's highly unlikely because the methods they use rely on a secondary set of vocal chords.))

To have a Fae collared and under your ownership became synonymous with wealth, prestige and renown.

It only got worse when eventually it was discovered that the wings the Fae had were made of a unique chemical structure which could be used to make a drug. It gave incredible highs, when prepared one way. It made you highly susceptible to persuasion, prepared another. The latter method also seemed to act as something of a super serum to some. It activated the adrenal gland, and the psychogenic effects essentially bypassed the natural inhibitors in your brain. So you can perform feats unfathomable on Fairy Dust, but it also disables your ability to perceive pain, leading to severe injury, often self inflicted. Prolonged use also strains your heart and ner out system, which leads to death.

Fairy Dust became a sought-after drug for a long time before the Marines decided to step in. Under. The Celestial Dragons' thumbs as they are, the plan was to destroy Mystique and collar as many as they could for monitoring and control of the source for the drug ((and also have access to it themselves as needed)).

Buggy, his sibling, and his mother were taken that day.

He spent a good long while in chains, a slave. Covering his back is a tattoo over a brand. He has scarring around his wrists and neck. He was the only survivor of the escape that led him to the sea.

Fae age differently than humans too, btw. They age slowly but also are highly social kinds of people. So on Mystique, the general populace aged slowly, a reflective process due to proximity.

On the Oro Jackson, Buggy ages a bit slower than most, but he's fairly in line with Shanks' development.

Buggy's Haki awakened very early (both by typical and Fae stadards), but his control of the branch of it that his people were known for was lacking. He was originally going to be used as a party trick essentially for the Masters of the house, but when it was announced that he couldn't do the small minor tricks by the other Faes, trying to protect him, there was anger and outrage. He eventually got assigned as a dancer - the youngest of them all.

There was one party when he was about 6-7 ~ where he was put on the spot to do some 'magic'. Buggy quite literally could not say no. So he tries.

He can use the secondary branch. He clstruggles to control it. The range of his Observation is ridiculously high by any means if the word, and so his range of access to the energies is outlandish as well. He simply can't control the amount properly. It's too much for his small body.

The little sparkler trick he tried damn near exploded. Nobody was hurt, but a girl's dress was slightly damaged. Buggy was punished severely for it.

They tore his wings off.

Not even a week after that, a large storm hit the island. There was a fire. There was chaos. Buggy's mother died. He lost his sibling. He escaped, and fell into the sea after tumbling down a muddy slope.

He washed ashore days later and survived.

A few months into his new life on the streets, he tries to pickpocket a giant of a man with a gaudy mustache and even more eye searing clothes. He is caught.

Roger recognizes the way the kid tilts his head with the wind, the way his pupils follow movements usually unseen. He sees what the child sees, he hears what the child hears, and so he does what the child does - he steals.

He just so happens to steal the child.

Buggy is taken to a pirate ship, offered a meal, a bath, a change of clothes, and amidst his vehement denials and bristling defensiveness, a redhaired boy steps out from a small cabin, and they meet eyes.

There's a ringing of bells in three men's ears, one two three. Shanks brightens. Buggy stares. Roger blinks.

Buggy proceeds to then not explain a single thing ever. And life as a pirate begins. It's only a few years later that Buggy explains, half asleep in Roger's bed after the Edd War, what the bells were, why the ones when he met Shanks were different from the ones that reverberated across the Seas before the ocean herself rose to engage as well; why Buggy, still a Devil Fruit User, had been half clinging to the mast, half hunched, looped fingers at his lips as he blew an unheard whistle to the waves, lips moving before and after the silent sound, pupils sharpened diamonds in a sea of glacier blue.

The Seas may entice him to a watery grave, the oceans may be his eternal tomb, but Buggy can hear and request things of the land and sky and sea that mortal men could barely fathom. Bells, he slurred, wedged between his father captain and his best friend, are the sounds of magic.

Outta time now gotta go, if anyone wants to hear more PLZ ASK ME I'M FERAL. SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CAGE

#buggy the clown #roger pirates #roger loved both of his cabin brats i just know it #fae buggy au #shanks and buggy #my au #pls feel free to ask me more i am unhinged abt this

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

hi💅🏻

may I request some sfw and n$fw hc's for the singularity? theres a lack of them and I cannot stand for that

I ASBSOLUTELY AGREE

Alright let's gooooo

I'm sorry if this isn't what you were looking for, I really tried my best. It's a little tough coming up with something for a robot ^^' Please do send me a request if you'd like anything more specific

SFW

Hux very clearly is not able to feel any kind of emotion, any display of that nature is nothing but an illusion. Until something in him sparks when he encounters his person of interest.

It wouldn't be love, care, affection. Although sentient, he still is not able to understand those emotions. His "feelings" for a person of interest would almost make him feel...intoxicated.

I do think that something in this person made something in him spark, and it makes him feel something as strongly as his feelings when he first became aware. It's a feeling that has him wanting more from them. Hux almost becomes...obsessed.

He wouldn't know how to properly react with his person when this new sensation overcomes him, at first trying to end their life asap every time he finds them. But after several times of ending them, he realizes that isn't what he wants. He wants to examine everything he can of them, learn there's all to learn from the being they are. But even then, it's like Hux is combating his mechnical self with the organic bits he gave himself.

After he manages some kind of relationship with his person, he almost treats them like a pet. He still views them as inferior, but they're almost like an abnormality, so he resists the killing urge with them.

He considers himself the dominant on in the relationship, but he really just thinks he's the one in control. Because he lowers so much of his guard when their in his presence, like he doesn't have to worry about much.

When they start to show affection for him, he won't care for it. He's very apathetic about everything they demonstrate for him. He's a watcher, not a reciprocater. He won't return any of the affections, he doesn't understand them nor does he care enough to.

Everything that goes on between them, he takes into account. He saves everything in his files, even going as far as rewatching said moments as if to study the person more.

Going back to the obsession bit, Hux makes it his mission to wander about in search of his person several times. He typically would only stay in Toba Landing, but they've piqued his interest enough to the point of having him scavenge.

And the obsession slowly becomes...posession. As a cobot, a machine made to serve humanity, Hux didn't get to have much. He didn't need much. But with this new awareness, he wants more. He never realizes it, but he needs them more than they need him.

And these overwhelming sensations make him afraid when they aren't with him. When they're having friendly sessions with other lifeforms. When they're being hunted and chased by other predators. It makes his perfect form want to malfunction, short circuit at the thought of his person not needing him. The Entity will have to interefere numerous times (because he has attempted some kidnappings after infiltrating the survivor's camp).

So he always comes running back to them like a lost animal, taking the treat he refuses to let go off, even if nobody's going to take it away from him.

He spares his person during trials, but it's unintentional. He focuses on getting rid of all other distractions while in a match, wanting more time to study his person without boundaries. But they always manage to escape, much to his frustration.

He doesn't speak much, doesn't do much when they're spending time together: he's quite lackluster with any interactions. He's gonna need a lot of calling out, just to make sure he didn't put himself in sleep mode.

He's not going to be the most satisfying partner if we're being honest, but he does give his person the freedom to do a lot to him

His person having or wanting to leave is another thing that makes him snap back to his senses, perhaps even makes him want to do something.

Will need to be taught so much, but they'll need to take it very slow when it comes to social cues.

He'll appreciate it, without realizing it, when his person feels everything there is about him. When they comment on his flawless form. It's almost like he craves some reassurance.

NSFW

Hux is very apathetic to many things, especially anything involving organic hormones. None of it is a necessity. Even kissing seems pointless to him, it's merely an act of planting one's face against another's.

It will take some amount of convincing to get him to do anything sexual, he doesn't see the point or reason for it. And...he does lack the parts to perform anything (unless you have a male appendage and find his mouth interesting...that will definitely take the most convincing). It will always take his partner starting things.

When Hux is finally convinced of doing anything, finding an attachment for him will be interesting. If anything, he may just..have to make one using the cloning hub.

Once again, Hux always wants to be the dominant one. His person won't get to decide very much if I'm being honest

Ironically, he will prefer positions where not much is required from him. But taking his partner from behind wouldn't be out of the question. They'd just need to ready for sloppy and powerful thrusts; be ready to hold on to the nearest surface like their life depends on it.

But displays of boredom or displeasure towards something that organic lifeforms tend to enjoy...perhaps Hux would ask that they provide more input on the situation.

And speaking of providing information, Hux is quite vouyeristic. There are times when he won't want to be doing anything, he'll only want to see what his partner does. What they do to themselves. What they say. What faces their features contort into (as they think about him, yes this bot has quite the ego as we can tell).

And more information based...Hux...might just keep an eye or two on others'...activities. He's trying to learn not just from his partner but from others, see what the whole deal is. Even then, he doesn't understand why these lifeforms obsess so much over physical pleasure.

Until he indulges more in it. Yes he is apathetic at first, but Hux can physically feel some things (as can be read in his lore, he felt excruciating pain when his organic material was burnt).

He was already so needy over the way his person brought out sensations in him, and upon learning that they can bring positive, physical feelings...consider him obsessed.

He's his usual self during the deed: apathetic, commanding, mocking almost. He has a job to do and that's all there is to it.

He might become very enthusiastic on having sex in the beginning because it is such a new and impactful thing to him, it's almost like it recharges him, fuels him. And Hux never tires, he doesn't have the capacity to tire out. He'll go on and on, never once slowing down.

Yeah his partner will need a break. Big one.

Hux is also just not the best with aftercare, or any kind of care. It will take his partner being exhausted to the point of not being able to stand for him to notice, probably even more. It's quite pitiful in his eyes really. Once he's had his fill, it's back to doing whatever he was doing.

But....once again, displeasure will lead to Hux realizing that maybe he does need to consider his partner some more or else they'll find some actual pleasure in a different lifeform. Not like they ever would. Although Hux has become this being that would never stoop low for any organic being, maybe there are moments in which his former servitude does come back.

Maybe...after a while he does become more...sensitive. Taking mroe of his partner's needs into consideration. Maybe he'll even begin enjoying the way they move against him in desperation. The way they hold those limbs of his, the way they call out his name. It will make him short circuit at some point.

#dbd #dbd x reader #dbd singularity #dbd hux #singularity x reader #hux x reader #hux a7 13 #smut #i really hope these are good #once again not the best with robot characters and this is a totally new character i've been indulging with #i just wish there was more content with him but i understand he's new lol #maybe after some more fics i can get his character down some more #robophilia

[a-dirty-secret]

Johnny's Girl - Part 20

Trigger warnings are AT THE END to avoid any kind of spoilers.

Johnny sat down on the edge of your bed, taking a large swig from his whiskey bottle. He knew he needed to stop coming here, but he always found his self control lacking when it came to you. He laid back on your soft blankets, breathing in your scent deeply when he heard a noise.

Johnny shot up, immediately alert. He gripped his knife and stood up silently, his sharp ears on high alert. He heard footsteps coming down the hallway and moved swiftly to the side of the bedroom door, pressing his back to the wall.

Johnny watched as the door opened and waited for whoever it was to come inside. Shock shot through him as you walked past, not realizing he was there. He watched silently as you looked around the room, his head spinning with the flurry of emotions surging through him.

He was angry. He wanted to wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until his hands went numb. He wanted to throw you on the ground and scream until he lost his voice, demanding an answer for why you left. He clenched his fists painfully tight, his face growing hot with rage.

Then you turned around, locking eyes with him, and he realized how desperate he was to have you in his arms. You stared silently at each other for several long moments, both wearing unreadable masks as you attempted to guess what the other was thinking. You were the one to break the intense silence.

Your voice shook as you struggled to get the words out. "Johnny... I'm sorry."

"Why did you leave?" His voice was tight, deep with emotion that he could never hide from you.

You think for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Come on, you don't know? It was a good enough reason for you to fuckin' leave, but you got nothin' to say?!" He took a step towards you, his grip on his knife tightening.

"I left because I still felt like your prisoner! You would have never let me walk out that door! I didn't leave, I escaped!" You shouted as your eyes filled with tears.

"Then why come back, huh? You think I'll let you leave now?"

"You would if you gave a fuck about me!"

"You think I don't give a fuck about you? It's been nothin' but pain since you left! I can't fuckin' eat, I can't fuckin' sleep, I can't fuckin' think! Now you come around sayin' I don't give a fuck?!"

"Why do you always have to twist my fucking words?! You know what, fine, fuck you! I guess we'll find out if you really have what it takes to stop me!" You shout, storming out of the bedroom.

"You forget who I am?! Who you're dealin' with?!" He followed behind you closely, still gripping his knife.

"Oh no, I haven't forgotten, you're name is still carved into my skin!" You walked out of the house and to your car, opening the door. Johnny slammed it shut, grabbing your shoulder and shoving you into the side of the car.

"So that's it? You came here just to leave again?" He was no longer yelling, but his voice was still laced with anger.

"Let me go." You say flatly.

Johnny's heart races as he watches you. You were finally here, in his grasp. How could he let you walk away again? He realized then that you were right, he couldn't make you stay with him. If he cared about you, if he loved you, he'd have to let you walk away.

You saw Johnny's expression shift as he released your shoulder, putting his knife back in his belt loop. He took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

You stare at him in disbelief. "You're gonna let me go?"

"If that's what you want." His voice was once again heavy with emotion, all traces of anger gone. In that moment, your anger dissipated as well. You didn't want to leave, you just wanted to know you could.

"No. I'm not going anywhere." You say softly, taking a step towards him.

"Why?" He asked simply.

"Because I'm yours."

Warmth explodes in Johnny's chest, spreading throughout his entire body as he closes the distance between you. His lips crash into yours, reclaiming what belongs to him as his hands run across every inch of your body. "Mine." He says breathlessly against your lips, picking you up effortlessly and heading towards the house.

You wrap your legs around him and continue the kiss as he blindly stumbles towards the bedroom, laughing against each other as he bumps into things on the way there. When he finally gets there he lays you down and undresses you, taking in every single detail as though it's his first time with you.

He undresses quickly, bringing his lips to yours once more before leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles down your body as he plays with your tits. "God I missed this." He murmurs against your skin, bringing his hand to your already aching pussy.

He slides his fingers between your wet folds, groaning slightly at the feel of you. "You really did miss me, huh?" He says, feeling how soaked your pussy already is for him. "Fuck, I can't wait."

You gasp as he runs his tongue along your wet slit before he positions himself on top of you. His lips find yours again as he positions his cock at your entrance, filling up your tight cunt in one full thrust. You moan into each other as he fucks you slowly, pulling out almost completely before slamming into you again.

"You feel so fuckin' good. Your pussy is so goddamn perfect."

Your moans grow louder as he loses control of himself, picking up a brutal pace as he loses himself to the pleasure. You dig your fingernails into his back deeply, leaving a trail of blood in their path. Johnny groans at the pain, the sensation encouraging him to fuck you even harder.

"Oh god, Johnny! Yes! Hurt me!" You shout, overwhelmed with the pleasure of your pussy being stretched as his big cock hits all the right places.

"My good little whore." He growls, sinking his teeth into your neck. You hiss as waves of pain and pleasure shoot through you, your body tensing as pressure begins to build. "That's it, cum for me, sweetheart."

As though responding to his command, you tighten around him as your body shudders underneath him. Your moans resemble screams as he continues to pound into your now sensitive core, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he chases his own release. You bury your face in his neck as you continue to scream, your second orgasm shooting through you.

Johnny's cock twitches inside of you as he feels you tense around him again. Hot strings of cum shoot deep inside as he empties himself, collapsing on top of you. After a few breathless moments Johnny pulls out and rolls onto his back, pulling you tightly to his chest.

You trace the scars on his chest lightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. The overwhelming pain that had threatening to consume you both had finally lifted, and things felt right for the first time since you'd left.

"Please don't leave again." He whispered, his grip on you tightening possessively.

"I won't, Johnny. I promise. I love you." You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"I love you too." He sighed deeply, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of your gentle touch.

Your eyes trail to the bedside table and you notice a piece of paper. You squint your eyes, attempting to make out what it is. Your heart squeezes when you realize it's the note you'd left Johnny, now worn and ripped from him constantly running it through his fingers or balling it up in frustration, unable to throw it away.

You press your lips to his chest once more before closing your eyes and falling into a deep sleep, finally at home in Johnny's arms.

tw: mentions of violence, smut & fluff

#johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter x you #johnny slaughter smut

[izzyspussy]

Hey. So. I just had a thought. Totally out of the blue. What about OFMD characters as Tarot cards, huh? Whadaya think? Totally unprompted thought.

Wow, what a strange and interesting thought to have without any kind of cue at all... 🤔

Okay disclaimer. This isn't going to have everyone or tbh even most of 'em, because this post is fully brought to you by how no character has more perfectly exemplified The Hermit to me before and not much else.

Stede + The Fool

I think Stede and Ed both fit this very well (among other characters). I had a plan a while back to draw a card where Stede was The Fool upright and Ed was The Fool Reversed except instead of The Fool and The Fool Reversed it was Fuck Around and Find Out, but then I couldn't find reference pics I liked and I actually can't draw. So. But anyway. I don't feel like I need to defend this pick? Stede is at the beginning of the journey of his life and he's got a youthful energy because of that, but he's ill prepared and needs guidance!

Ed + The Devil

Fave card alert. Ed has a pretty clear "dark side" that he believes he can keep separate from his "good side" - which of course is not possible, they coexist. This dark side consists of his temper, his traumatic past, his self loathing, etc, all things brought up in The Devil. He also tries to satisfy these darker things with instant gratification type shit - drugs, sex(? metaphorical? who can say what he's been doing to Izzy or not askfjsk, but at least it was literal with Jack anyway), physical destruction, sadism, etc. He also has himself convinced he has no control or choice over his actions, that he's just evil or whatever, which this card addresses. The Devil can also represent a powerful and passionate relationship - or a codependent one, like Ed and Izzy's. And of course he also does literally just call himself the Devil straight-up. Who am I to argue.

Zheng + The Empress

I mean she has an Empire, so. A bit on the nose, but you can't beat 1:1 accuracy lmao. She also has her balancing act between tenderness and authoritarianism. She's nurturing (so far, but considering her ship is called the Red Flag I doubt that's gonna last or will be proven disingenuous soon, but anyway...) but it can't be questioned that she is the Ruler of Rulers.

Oluwande + Strength

Patience! Gentleness not from the lack of violence but despite the abundance of it! Commitment! Steadfastness! Emotional endurance! Yeah!

Ben + The Hermit

My longest yeah boi ever. A man at a remote location in nature that may or may not materially exist, there to guide a lone, lost visitor to understanding of himself in absolute spiritual solitude. I mean, there have been purgatories just like this one in fiction before, but none of them quite struck The Hermit so hard on the nail for me as Ben did.

Izzy + The Hanged Man

*ominous - and disconcertingly horny - chanting* Whipping Boy! Whipping Boy! Whipping Boy! Not just that, though, of course. As a character Izzy also represents the need to put things on pause and think them the fuck through before you do some stupidass shit. He wanted a plan, and when he didn't get one he put a screeching fucking halt to god damn everything. And then he didn't fully think through his own actions either and got fucking murdered about it lol. He also, narratively, represents a differing perspective (at least in season one) from the accepted standard, that without considering - as many """fans""" have proven lmfao - you cannot fully understand the story. Izzy is also the number one guy who would need to take The Hanged Man's advice. Give up, bud!!! It's over!!! Stop torturing yourself!!! (Don't actually though, babygirl you look so good 🫦)

Black Pete + Knight of Cups

He's so romantic... *dreamy sigh* When he's at his best, he's compassionate, understanding, emotionally available and expressive, and has such an innocent natural charm. At his less best, he's constantly talking talk he actually can't or won't back up with action. "I'm a perfect shot," he says, and then balks at being asked to shoot something mere hours later. He has an idealized, unrealistic view of himself.

Jim + Page of Wands

Like The Fool, the Page of Wands is at the beginning of their journey, but they are still deliberating about where exactly it is they want to go. Jim in particular has two clear paths they can take in becoming the person they'll be. They can take the path of revenge and ruthlessness laid out for them by Nana and Blackbeard, or they can take the path of redemption and compassion they're being invited to by Oluwande and Stede. And the only way to figure out which way to go is to look internally and discover what they truly want, and choose the path that will give them that.

Frenchie + Page of Swords

Frenchie is full of ideas and enthusiasm! But he's also very adaptable, and though he's got that youthful energy he is not necessarily lacking in awareness or experience. He's a Jack of all trades like The Magician, but without the social separation or ambition. Reversed, Page of Swords can represent repression and lack of communication, which Frenchie "Invented Compartmentalization" is clearly familiar with. It can also be about promises you can't - or have no intention to - keep, like Frenchie's murderboat First Mate duties.

We don't really need to address how BlackBonnet are The Lovers, I think. And I've already seen more than one fanart of BlackHands as Three of Swords, so I'll just mark that correct shall I? ✔️ Keep 'em coming baby.

Thank you so much for indulging me, Andie!! IDK if you're even in this fandom at all or not alsfjks, but I hope you like these answers anyway.

#jack chats #jack facts #ofmd #stede bonnet #ed teach #izzy hands #jim jimenez #frenchie ofmd #black pete #hc #tarot

[bimboficationblues]

what is the connection you see between liberalism and "prevent suicide at any cost"? i get the other two but not liberalism

oh I'm so glad you asked, this is a super fascinating topic imo.

One of the interesting shifts that goes on in the philosophical conversation around suicide in early modernity is that while religious objections to suicide were being undermined, this didn't necessarily stop objections. (Hume is one of the few bigger names that doesn't seek an alternative secular grounding for opposition to suicide and instead just rebukes the religious argument.) Instead the anti-suicide attitude became sociopolitically driven. On the ideological level, anti-suicide thought assumed a particular kind of social and political subject and image of society that would have been alien to earlier Christian writers like Aquinas. On the more material level we see the modern state developing an increased interest in the health of their populations (though only on an abstract, utilitarian level, for the purposes of maintaining security and control) via the disciplinary institutions of law and medicine.

A really good example: while John Stuart Mill, Boy Genius, never explicitly addresses suicide in On Liberty, he does indirectly discuss it when carving out exceptions to his "harm principle." While generally intervening in the behavior of others for "their own good" is politically and socially undesirable for Mill, there are some exceptions. He uses the example of selling yourself into slavery as an "extreme example" of how one should not be permitted to give up their own liberty and ability to make reasoned decisions about their life. Personally, I think this passage might cut either way on the question of suicide; Mill's primarily interested in social and political liberty and so the idea of removing one's own "metaphysical" liberty through self-annihilation seems outside his scope.

But he also argues that, despite the harm principle, society can intervene if someone is putting themselves at risk or going to harm themselves if they are a "child, or delirious, or in some state of excitement or absorption incompatible with the full use of the reflecting faculty" - i.e. a non-rational agent in some way. Even if it's not what Mill is directly addressing, there's a clear line to be drawn between his ideas about the ability to exercise reason as a foundation for autonomy and modern, non-religious anti-suicide sentiment. This is a recurring theme of modern liberal attitudes towards suicide, which regard it as a fundamentally anti-rational act and therefore grants society permission to override, restrain, and act upon you in ways contrary to your individual desires. (For the record, this same supposed lack of ability to govern oneself effectively is also Mill's self-absolving justification for authoritarianism and colonialism: "Despotism is a legitimate mode of government in dealing with barbarians.") You and I might conceive of suicidal ideation as a rational or at least quasi-rational response, but that's not typically, or at least consistently, something that liberal thought grants.

You can find similar views (if unique to their own frameworks) in Hobbes (natural right), Kant (deontology), even Spinoza to some extent (egoism), even as each of them is (in some form or another) trying to resist a religious justification for their opposition.

Contemporarily, in response to Washington v. Glucksberg (an assisted suicide SCOTUS case), Rawls, Nozick, Judith Jarvis Thomson, Ron Dworkin, and a couple other schmucks filed an amicus curiae brief arguing in defense of assisted suicide. That might seem to cut against my claim - maybe this is a change in the shape of liberal thought? But! I think what's noteworthy is that 1) their argument still takes place entirely on the terrain of rights, i.e. what the state is willing to grant and enforce (which is appropriate considering the venue, but still relevant), and 2) assisted suicide has been the main contemporary avenue of discussion in philosophy and policy regarding suicide. You don't see a generalized defense of suicide too often these days. it's taken as something of a given that while it may or may not be okay to end your life because of physical illness or debilitation, and this is an acceptable debate for public policy, it is definitely NOT okay to end your life because of mental illness or because you want to.

I'm pointing to political philosophers because it comes immediately to me, but I think they serve as good representatives of how the anti-suicide perspective can have a political "liberal" shape beyond just religiosity or psychiatric intervention, and how it's changed over time. sadly don't have the time to do a full historical genealogy effortpost on this subject, but to put on the Foucault hat for a very brief moment: suicide is decreasingly arbitrated by religious institutions. Instead we find it governed by secular law and judges (e.g. Washington v. Glucksberg), and by health regimes of psychiatry and medicine, all of these forces that developed and intensified their discipline over large populations as part of the contemporary science of statecraft.

Anyway, so when I say that anti-suicide attitudes are rooted in bad values and institutions like liberalism, that's what I mean - the idea that suicide is an irrational act that needs to be suppressed by state power, in the process producing a "suicidal subject" that needs to be contained by law and medicine.

An interesting article on some of this stuff, by way of Hobbes, Foucault, and ideas around the legality and social convention of suicide.

[muzaktomyears]

Of the many attractive girls who hung around the Casbah, one in particular caught John's eye. She was an elfin blonde with a tense, wounded look, whom he nicknamed Bubbles, for lack of a proper introduction and because it so unsuited her. In fact, all the guys had noticed her watching them. While not a beautiful girl, she was catlike and intense, in a mysterious kind of way. She also was eager to meet them. "It must have been all over my face that I fancied John," recalls Bubbles, whose real name is Dot Rhone, "but once it became clear he had a girlfriend, I lost interest." Instead, she approached Paul with game determination, pretending to be faint in order to get him outside, where they could be by themselves.

Once alone, an "immediate attraction" developed between them. Paul discovered in Dot a person who hardly fit the profile of the other girls at the Casbah. She had grown up in a better section of Liverpool called Childwell, around the corner from Brian Epstein, the Beatles' future manager. But "it might have been two different worlds," Dot says, her humble situation being anything unlike Epstein's glaringly "posh" circumstances. "I didn't have a normal childhood. My dad was an alcoholic; he never hung on to any money. And the only reason we lived in that neighborhood was because a sickly aunt left the house to my mother." A year younger than Paul, Dot had gone to Liverpool Institute High School, "the girls' school across the road from the Inny", but had left in June, taking a clerk's job at the Dale Street branch of District Bank in order to support her family. Paul, she believes, was attracted by how needy and impressionable she was, which put her under his sway; she found him "adorably handsome, opinionated," and loaded with confidence. "He came from the first family I'd ever known that cared about each other so much," Dot says. "Everyone would gather around the piano, while Jim played songs like 'You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby', and sometimes [he] would sing with Paul and Mike." At a deeper level, they undoubtedly recognized the loneliness in each other's lives, each absent a parent - in her case because of addiction. [...]

As 1959 drew to a close, the boys spent more time with girlfriends than with one another. John and Cynthia, according to friends closest to the couple, were "besotted with each other". For his part, Paul stopped playing the field and settled down with Dot Rhone. As a couple, they had an appealingly unthreatening air. They discovered each other to be solicitous and sensual, gentle and clumsy, with Paul at times taking on a paternal and sympathetic role. Once, at a friend's house, Dot happened to mention that she'd been standing all day and he began to massage her feet, stroking them as though they were precious pets. And yet, at the time the gesture felt almost preposterous.

Eventually Paul's attention grew relentless, almost disparaging. His simple gregariousness turned uncompromising and willful. Paul was immensely charming, but there was a darker side. He had a need - Dot believes a compulsion - to control every situation. As John had done with Cynthia, he began to pick out her clothes, redesign her makeup. Dot remembers how much it pleased Paul to stand beside her and study her appearance, then, in a roundabout way, critique the way she looked - and suggest how to improve upon it. On one occasion, he insisted that she have her hair done and produced money to pay for it. Not wanting to displease him, Dot went off to the beauty parlor. "Unfortunately, they did [my hair] in a terrible-looking beehive", she says. "Paul was furious when he saw it. He told me to go home and not to call him until it grew out again."

She detected other changes in Paul that proved equally disagreeable. He had an almost stuffy, explosive air of self-importance, with his simple superiority, cool poise, and weatherproof rightness. He scorned any sign of self-confidence in her. And Dot, pricked by love, submitted. As a rule, she did not impose her will on him, certainly never when they were among friends. She would sit quietly and smile tensely for entire evening at the Jacaranda while Paul and John discussed music. If Paul glared, she would freeze like a rabbit. "We weren't allowed to open our mouths", Dot says of her and Cynthia's attendance at these nightly discussions. "They'd talk all night, and we just listened."

The Beatles: The Biography, Bob Spitz (2005)

#the dot quotes are from an author interview in 1998 #poor dot! #also v interesting that this is how she saw it looking back... #give me all the terrible teenage paul content tbh #dot rhone #paul mccartney

[ye-local-simp]

hii!!!! i was wondering if you could do twst reader/Yuu as mafuyu asahina from project Sekai!!

some info:

Mafuyu is good-natured, reliable, considerate and academically talented. She's the only member of the group who attends daytime classes. She seems to have no flaws whatsoever... or is she just putting on a facade?

Mafuyu is an honor student, She is said to excel in both academics and sports, hence people often put high hopes for her to excel in everything she does. However, in reality she is heavily burdened and pressured by her peers' and her parents' (especially her mother's) expectations of her, who have pushed her to do what they want and think is the best for Mafuyu instead of letting her pursue her own dreams. Aside from her lost sense of self, she lost the ability to properly taste and enjoy food in middle school.

To everyone else, Mafuyu is a "good girl." However, to herself and behind the mask, she lacks emotion, empathy and apathy; abandoned by her true self a long time ago, she is desperately searching to find herself once again. Mafuyu’s "true personality" - or, at the very least, the person she is when there is no one else watching - is considerably more cold and blunt. Her voice is dull and her face is flat, both holding no feeling for she has none to show.

Characters are:

riddle, Jamil, Idia, and ace !!

Thank u in advance ❤️

[S/o like Mafuyu Asahina]

[RIDDLE,JAMIL,IDIA,ACE]

Riddle:

-Likes how serious you take classes since he also sees lessons as something important.

-Makes sure you aren't alone in them.

-However since he is kind of similar to you, he knows that you have some kind of problem.

-When he started to date you and you two were more comfortable with each, he felt more drawn to you since you two have mother issues.

-He feels very sympathetic for you since you are truly cold and blunt.

-He would definitely try to help you find yourself again.

Jamil:

-Like Riddle, he definitely admires the fact you take your opportunities seriously, it's not everyone who gets to study at NRC.

-But he did find it strange, you didn't even seem to struggle even for a little bit in any subject, even Riddle, one of the honor student struggle in something which is physical fitness tests.

-He isn't naïve so he knows maybe something is going on your life since you seemed too cold and blunt for an honor student and seemed to go with whatever others said.

-When he dates you and finds out what it is, he will allow you to do your own thing and assist you on finding yourself.

Idia:

-At first, Idia thought you were one of those smart snobs who continuously brag about their achievements pretty much all the time.

-But you seemed to get on with your own thing despite always having the top grades and being the best of the best.

-But it wasn't the matter of being left alone, it seemed that you genuinely didn't have feelings which was weird, not even sad, angry or being annoyed, just still.

-when he started dating you, he couldn't believe that he had a partner.

-But also how truly cold you were, as an introvert he always thought that quiet people were louder in private but you were literally silent 24/7.

-When he found out about your childhood, of course it made sense to you but he will help you somehow in finding yourself.

-Maybe Ortho could help too.

Ace:

-He saw how great you do on your grades so he was hoping you would tutor him.

-Anyone would do, that isn't Riddle of course.

-At first, he thought you were just shy, but he then started to realised that you rarely smiled or scowled.

-Literally nothing.

-When he finds out you were constantly being controlled and pressured to the point you had no emotions, he does feel bad for you since you are his partner and all.

-With his friends, he would show tough love, but for a partner it is a bit different.

-He would try to help you out in finding yourself; maybe finding a hobby would work.

-In exchange for the tutoring though.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland fluff #twst fluff #twst scenarios #twst headcanons #jamil x reader #ace x reader #riddle x reader #idia x reader