#<- adding those tags just so i can save this for later

[comvi]

OH YEAH BUD? BUDDYERsTION? I MADE MAC AND CHEEsE BEAT THAT!!!!11 INFODUMP ABOUT ANYGAME.ORANYONE.NOW!!!!!!

wrong fucking gif

urg macaronic is pretty darn good……. You got me right in the heart there………..

HMRRR OKAY………. I dont feel in the “infodumping” headspace rught now BUT i can give some headcanons of mine for lampert, perrhaps?

vvvv under cut (cause this was longer than i initially planned)

-his body is sewn and plush-like, with a polyester(?) stuffing, and pellets/beads in places like his tummy and feet, so hes very light (which also means easy to grab….. QUUIKC PICK HIM UP AND SPIN HIM IN CIRCLES!!!)

-unsure what specific material/fabric he would be made of, but i think something from sherpa fleece or boucle, to frosted minky.

-if he cut himself on accident, or somehow tore his body, he can usually just stitch some new fabric right on it and itll close up to normal in a few hours-days depending on how big the tear was.

-the light he emits in the day is usually warm/a yellowish-orange colour, and when its night it changes to a cool blue-hue. but he can change it to a more red-ish colour if he’d like to (as warmer colours are better for sleep, so i imagine he’d do this while trying to get his loved ones to sleep nd whatnot)

-he loves to collect SOFT thigns like plsuhes CAUSE I SAID SO!!!!!!!!! i imagine he has like. a lil nest of them all stored somewhere. hes like a weird chipmunk to me,.

-fat and gay of course. hope my art of him has gotten this across LOL

-i dont personally think he *can actually* eat (due to being a plush and whatnot). if he ate something, especially a liquid, it would just make him dirty/soggy, and hes a germaphobe canonically if im right so…. right not very ideal for him

-very unfamiliar with the internet and almost never uses it except for when infected/kasper is around. because of this he understands some very specific internet slang/terms, but also doesnt know a LOT.

-his home is the ikea he comes from, so he has a little fort there he sleeps in/thats basically his home. but every now-and-then he likes to go over to infecteds/kaspers house and just sleep on his couch. for fun.

-^if he DID have his own house, i think it would be made of wood with a carpet flooring (so its comfortable/wont risk splinters from the wood on his feet, since hes made of a soft material). lights would be off other than when people are around because he enjoys it that way.

-ACTUALLY hes not very much of a people person. rooted in being neurodivergent, hes unsure what specifically though.

-he knows a lot about different fabrics but HE HATES VELVET!!!!!!!!!! i dont like velevwt…..

-he has trouble using his hands/holding things/etc due to their stiff/unmoving position (due to being a plush. his hands are glove-like)

-has symptoms of chronic fatigue no im not explaining this one.

-he has a little heart stitched onto his chest, got it with infected/kasper. this would kinda be like the plush equivalent of a tattoo/piercing/that kinda stuff for him, i’d think.

-LOVES playing puppet combo games, and games with those kinds of graphics/style. plays other games like nintendo ones with other people like split sometimes too.

OKAY DONE!!! SORRY for any spelling mistakes and how LONG this is once i started i just COUDLNT STOP.

[alvojake]

The Murder House | Masterlist & Intro ⏃

↳ this is inspired by an ask from the lovely @addictedtohobi

「parings」 : enha x fem!reader

「synopsis」 : it was halloween season once again, and your brother begged you and your friends to go to this new hit escape room that just came into town; the only problem? you hated going to them almost as much as you hated waking up early in the morning. however, being the good friend and sister you were you went with them. you expected cheesy props, dumb riddles and questions, and a rigged room, so you couldn't get out even if you got the right answers. what you weren't expecting was being drugged and waking up in a room with a dead body and separated from all of your friends.

「genre」 : horror/thriller, gore, angst, psychological thriller, mystery

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, heavy gore, blood, murder, mentions of suicide, cussing, death, manipulation, mentions of being drugged, toxic behavior, reader is speculated to be an 03' liner, trauma bonding, other specific warnings on individual parts.

𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆

「taglist」 : CLOSED

↳ a/n: I have decided to make this into a short series because I just know trying to write one long fic won't suffice, so I am making it into separate parts! I am super excited to see what you guys think so far and to hear all of your theories. don't forget to read the intro at the bottom!! I will be figuring out release dates for all of the parts at a later time, but they will all be subject to change depending on multiple factors! also, if you were on the taglist located on the wip post, then you are still on there, so don't worry! with that being said you will only be added to the taglist if you are 18+ and your age is visible on your page. if you don't meet either of those criteria, you will be ignored.

「start」 : May 8th, 2024 「end」 : June 20th, 2024

「synopsis」 : after waking up trapped in a room with a dead body, you are saved by none other than heeseung, but you're still left with questions. why were you and your friends trapped there, and who is behind it all? though it would seem that you won't be getting your answers very easily and definitely not without a few losses. 「word count」 : 10.2k 「warnings」 : blood, dead body, cussing, mentions of murder, mind games, drugging, mentions of mental health disorders (anxiety, panic attacks, etc...), jungwon is kinda reckless, lmk if I missed anything! 「release date」 : read here

「synopsis」 : with everyone's lives on the line will luck be on your side? except it seems like whoever trapped you here doesn't plan on letting any of you leave that easy... suspicion is rising and trust is starting to falter, but can you save everyone and bust whoever put you and your friends through this hell? or will you have to watch all of your friends die? 「word count」 : 11.3k 「warnings」 : cussing, spiders/bugs, water, blood, mentions of betrayal, arguments, mentions of claustrophobia & arachnophobia/entomophobia, mentions of spider venom, life or death situations, more mind games, mental health disorders (anxiety, panic attacks, breakdowns, etc...), (some tags will be hidden as to not spoil the story!) 「release date」 : read here

「synopsis」 : everything seems to be going downhill at a rapid pace and nothing is going right and you've already suffered the loss of two friends, but the mastermind behind this doesn't seem to be satisfied just yet. another test is thrown your way but things are starting to become more clear and you're realizing that the culprit has been with you the whole time... but will you be able to stop him and escape this hell house with your lives intact? 「word count」 : 10.5k 「warnings」 : cussing, even more 'games', blood, violence, gore, gun goes pew pew, poisoning, betrayal, gaslighting, familial issues, mentions of abuse (mental & physical), knife goes stabby, threats, death, obsessive/stalker-ish behavior, mental health disorders, even more betrayal, traumatic events, police, pls lmk if I missed anything! 「release date」 : read here

「synopsis」 : it's been a few weeks since you managed to escape from the murder house, but it's not quite over yet. your brother's trial was right around the corner and everything is brought back to the table. after he's found guilty and sent to prison you are determined to find out some answers, though you aren't sure if you'll like what he has to say.... 「word count」 : 6.2k 「warnings」 : cussing, petnames (my love, love...), kissing, court trial, sister complex, familial issues, mentions of abuse (mental & physical), obsessive behavior, threats, mentions of death, gaslighting, lmk if I missed anything! 「release date」 : read here

“Come on, y/n. We never get the chance to do this!” Riki whined as he draped his taller frame over your back, causing you to slouch forward. You let out an annoyed huff, letting your hands fall to your lap. Your phone slid from your fingers as you tilted your head to look back at your brother.

“Riki, how many times have I told you that I hate going to things like that?” You pushed back against him, causing the boy to fall dramatically back on the couch. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your discarded phone off the ground, Riki watching you with a pout.

“You watch too many horror movies,” he grumbled, remembering all the nights you would watch horror movies only to have some new-found fear afterward, even if it was something completely unnecessary.

You dropped your phone once more before glaring up at your brother, “ya know, there is always some truth to them.”

“y/n, please. They are just movies. Complete fiction. Ghosts aren’t real.” Riki rolled his eyes, picking at the loose strings of the couch cushion. 

“Even rumors stem from some kind of truth, Riki.” You huffed out, but it didn’t seem like your brother would stop pestering you until you finally gave in. So after hours of continuously asking and begging, you finally gave in to him, telling him that you would ask your friends only if he brought his own.

And he agreed.

When that dreadful night finally came, you were stuck in a car with all of your friends. The crisp October air was cold on your skin, but the heating in the vehicle that Jay had turned on was enough to leave you comfortable. Jake had some random playlist filling the speakers jamming out in the passenger seat while Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Heeseung were crammed into the far back of the SUV, all three on the brink of passing out from how long the drive was.

“I thought you said this place was in town, Riki.” You grumbled, flexing your jaw, trying to ease the discomfort from having it placed on your hand as you stared mindlessly out the car window. However, now that it was fully dark outside, there wasn’t much to look at, seeing that there were no streetlights.

“I mean, the address said it was in town; how was I supposed to know it was in the ass crack of it?” Riki sassed as he scrolled through his phone, looking at whatever was posted on social media.

“Language, dude.” Jay scolded the boy, his eyes staring at him through the rearview mirror.

“Korean, what else?”

Pursing your lips, you reached over and landed a smack on the back of his head, resulting in him letting out a groan as his head fell forward.

“What was that for?!” Riki exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head as he looked over at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t be such a smart ass.” You scolded him, and Riki grumbled before showing Sunoo something on his phone. 

Shaking your head, you lean forward, resting your arms on the back of Jay’s seat, “How much longer do we have to go?”

Jay quickly glanced at you from the rearview mirror, much like he did Riki, before glancing down at the GPS on his dash.

"It's saying we have about ten or so minutes left until we get there." He told you before putting his eyes back on the road. 

It was then that you started to notice just how desolate the surrounding area was. If this was such a hit attraction, why weren't any other cars around? Or any kind of sign of life. It was starting to give you the creeps. However, you just reminded yourself that you were doing this for your brother and that it was probably just your imagination playing tricks on you. So you just tried to relax, sitting back in your seat once more, eyes staring out at the blackness of the trees.

That feeling of unease only grew more once Jay pulled into the driveway, and you noticed that there wasn’t a single car in sight. You pulled your seatbelt off slowly, eyes searching everywhere, trying to find anything to settle this unnerving feeling that was twisting in your gut. As you opened the door, welcoming the chilling air outside, goosebumps littered your skin.

“Come on, y/n, get out. My legs are cramping!” Riki complained, pushing on your shoulder and urging you to leave the vehicle.

With a shaky sigh, you slowly let your foot fall to the ground, your knees feeling like jelly. Jay stepped out of the car, pocketing the keys before looking over at you. His eyebrows scrunched together, taking in the uneasy expression on your face.

“Hey, y/n, are you okay?” he asked, softly taking your arm and pulling you away from the open door so everyone else could pile out. 

“Yeah, it’s just…” You trailed on as your eyes caught sight of the small sign that was hammered into the ground.

The Murder House

You could have sworn that you felt your heart stop. What kind of douchebag names their escape room that? As if the air around you wasn’t suffocating enough, seeing that only made it feel like you were fighting for your breath.

“Sunoo, you’re in the back on the way home.” Heeseung groans as he stretches out, his joints groaning in protest. Sunoo just gave the older male the side eye before moving to stand on the other side of Jake, who had just gotten out of the car.

“Riki, I thought you said this was a hit attraction.” You looked over at your brother, who was inspecting the area much like you were until his eyes landed on you. “Why is there no one here?”

“Calm your tits, sis. I’m sure we just came on a night that no one else wanted to?” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that just means we won’t get stuck with some randos.” Heeseung shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Come on, y'know, we didn't come all this way just to chicken out," Jungwon grumbled, tossing his hair with his fingers.

You curled your lips inward, knowing that they were right and that you were just thinking too much about the situation. Crossing your arms over your chest, you nodded your head in silent agreement. Jay wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze, ignoring the prying eyes that were on the two of you.

“Don’t let it get to you too much, okay? We’ll just get it over with, and if anything, we just let the timer go out.” He whispered softly in your ear, and the warmth of his breath eased your mind slightly. 

“You’re right, I’m just overthinking.” You gave him a small smile before following after him and the others.

“God damn, Riki, why did we have to walk all the way up here?” Sunghoon huffed as all of you reached the steps of the porch.

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was right because that was a pretty lengthy walk uphill. All of the guys nodded in agreement before Jake walked further up the step, trying to see if you were able to get in. He then noticed a welcome sign hanging from the door, with a small basket underneath holding a piece of paper.

“It looks like we got some instructions, boys and girls,” Jake exclaimed with a broad smile, turning with the paper held high.

You looked at him uneasily as he unfolded it with a flourish and started reading it out loud so everyone could hear.

‘You will have two hours to uncover the grand mystery and escape the murder house. You will find clues and puzzles, but be careful, for everything isn’t as it seems… Good luck!’

A shiver ran down your spine as he finished reading. You weren't sure whether it was the chilling breeze that swept through or the cryptic words of the note. However, you did know that it wasn't just your mind messing with you; there was something deeply wrong with this place.

“Hey guys, this seems really weird. Maybe we should just go.” You voiced your concern, earning yourself a collection of groans from the guys.

“Oh, come on, y/n. Stop being such a negative Nancy and have some fun for once in your life.” Jake rolled his eyes, his hands falling to his side.

Your jaw clenched shut, and a glare adorned your features before you leaned forward, snatching the paper out of his hands.

“You’re such an asshole, Jake.” The words tumbled out quietly as you reread the same message that Jake had just read aloud, trying to see if there was anything else that he had missed.

“Yeah, yeah.” The brunette rolled his eyes before going on to complain about how thirsty he was and how he was sure that they would have drinks for sale or something inside. Then, without another word, he opened the door despite the multiple protests from you and a few others. 

“Jake, you can’t just walk in like you own the place!” You exclaim, hands slapping against your thighs as he disappears around the corner.

Letting out a huff, you step past the threshold, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that started to settle into your bones before going in the direction you saw Jake go, everyone trailing after you.

You walked into the foyer with a groan as you saw the older male chugging down a water bottle, some of it trickling down his chin before catching on his shirt. Your eyes then trail over to a tray that sat in the center of the table, six other bottles neatly placed inside.

“Jake, you can’t just take shit that’s not yours!” You scolded him, which only caused him to stop drinking, a gasp leaving his lips as he pulled the bottle away.

Riki then walked past you, looking down at the table and seeing some kind of note. Taking it, he held it up so everyone could see.

Free refreshments!

“The host probably just sat them out for people to take.” Riki shrugged, setting the paper back down on the table before grabbing a bottle for himself. 

Your stomach turned as you watched him unscrew the cap, “we can’t just trust drinks that are given to us by some random strangers.”

Heeseung then moves past you, his arm brushing yours, before grabbing one of the bottles. He inspected it for a few seconds before meeting your gaze.

"It's still sealed; there's no way someone tampered with it," he explained before twisting the cap open and swallowing a few drinks.

“Weren’t you the one complaining about being thirsty in the car?” Riki raised an eyebrow at you, and you just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, but-” “But what, just drink the water, it’s not like you’re gonna die.” Riki quipped, causing your jaw to tighten. You knew he was right; you had been complaining about not bringing an extra drink for the road, but you weren’t quite sure if you were thirsty enough to drink some random water given out by a stranger. However, the dry feeling in your throat was telling you otherwise, so with some hesitation, you took the bottle Jay was handing you before twisting the cap off and bringing it to your lips; the liquid instantly quenched your dying thirst. 

After everyone got a much-needed drink, they all needed you all gathered around the coffee table. You, Heeseung, and Jay were on the long couch while Sunoo, Niki, and Jake cramped on the loveseat, leaving the armchair for Sunghoon, Jungwon perched on the armrest. 

“So… when does this game start?” Sunoo asked, leaning forward so his arms rested on his knees. Looking around, you couldn’t help but notice that the room was neatly decorated and clean, yet there was no sign of anyone being there.

Heeseung then leaned forward to grab something sitting on the table, catching everyone’s attention. He flipped it around, trying to find any indication of what it was, but nothing was written on the outside, so he opened the flap and pulled out the papers inside.

“It’s more instructions,” he explains as he starts to read them aloud. It says that as soon as the… the… sorry, I just feel really lightheaded.” He mumbles, shaking his head while squeezing his eyes shut, trying to stabilize his vision.

"Hee man, are you good?" Jay asked, putting a hand on the older male's shoulder, and Heeseung just nodded.

“Yeah, I just…” Heeseung’s words slurred as he started to sway, his eyes drooping. 

Panic started to set in your chest as you noticed that Heeseung looked like he was on the brink of passing out. Just then, Jungwon slumped to the side, falling right into Sunghoon’s lap, causing him to start calling out the boy’s name.

You quickly stood to your feet to check on him, but you fell back into your seat just as soon as you stood, your vision swimming. However, as you looked around, you noticed that all of the boys were either slumped over or on the brink of passing out. 

Worry then etched itself into your bones when your hazy vision landed on your brother's motionless form. You opened your mouth to call out for him and tried to get your body to move, but it wouldn't respond, and no words left your lips. Then everything seemed to fade, and your body grew weaker and weaker until you fell to the side, your head resting against Jay's back before everything went black.

Your body shot up with a gasp, and your ears rang so loud you could have thought it was coming from some kind of speaker. However, as it started to die down to a dull shrill, you realized that it was just you.

Looking around, you felt a chill run down your spine. You couldn’t see a thing. The room was shrouded in darkness, with not a single light in sight. Panic then started to set in as the earlier events started to play in your head. 

Where was your brother? Or your friends? What caused you all to black out?

So many questions started filling your brain, some overlapping others as you fumbled to get to your feet. You blinked multiple times, trying to fully stabilize your vision and to see in the darkness.

A scream escaped from your lips as you tripped over something, landing in some kind of liquid. Your heartbeat roared in your ears as you hurriedly tried to get to your feet, the ringing in your ears growing louder.

Scrambling to your feet, you reach out in front of you, trying to find the wall, and as soon as you do, you start searching for the light switch. With shaky hands, you felt around the wall until you felt the switch. Letting out a relieved sigh, you flipped it, allowing the room to flood with light.

You looked up with a smile before remembering that your hands were still covered in whatever you had fallen into. Your gaze then fell down to your hands, only for the smile to be wiped away and your eyes to go wide.

Blood. Your palms were covered in blood.

Your stomach turns the urge to throw up very strong; dread then fills your veins as you slowly turn around. A high-pitched scream leaves your lips as your eyes are set upon the body of a man, blood pooling all around him.

Fear clouded your brain as you quickly turned back around to open the door. Rushing over to the wooden door, you wrapped your hands around the knob, hoping that it would turn. But it didn’t.

The door was locked, and you were trapped.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴ�� ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[lily-fics-11]

The Girl Next Door: Chapter 1 (Hazel Callahan)

The Girl Next Door

Fic master post here (feel free to comment to be added to tag list)

You hadn’t been close with your neighbor Hazel for a few years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes.

Chapter 1

You reunite with Hazel and clean her up after fight club

CW: mentions of blood and injury, allusions to violence, cursing, not beta read

You make your way to the locker room after staying behind at school to work on a group project. You forgot your hoodie in your gym locker, so you are grabbing it quickly before heading home. 

While you are at your locker you hear the door open and close. Someone else has entered the locker room, but you don’t think anything of it. 

As you go to leave you walk past the bathroom and you see someone standing in front of one of the sinks. She is facing the other way but you can see her reflection in the mirror. You notice that there is blood on her face and dripping down her shirt, paired with a swollen eye. You are obviously concerned and stop to take a closer look. Upon further inspection you realize that it is your neighbor.

“Hazel?” You call as you approach her. She sees you in the mirror and turns around. Why does she look amused?

“Hey!” She greets you like the circumstances are normal. 

“What the hell happened to you?” This wasn’t the best school, but you would never have thought someone would get attacked like this. 

“Oh this?” She looks down at her bloody shirt and shrugs. “I was just in fight club.”

“Who are you? Brad Pitt?” You are a little angry, what the hell is fight club and how did someone sweet and innocent like Hazel end up in it? You can’t help but feel bad for thinking that she looks kind of hot like this. 

“No, no, of course not. Some of my friends have started a self defense club, we call it fight club because we learn to defend ourselves by fighting eachother.”

You sigh and decide to save your questions for later and give in to your instinct to take care of her.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” You suggest to her.

She shifts uncomfortably and scratches the back of her head. She avoids eye contact by looking at the floor.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine, really,” she protests. 

“I can’t just leave you here like this. I know we aren’t close anymore but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” You mean every word. Hazel started to distance herself from you towards the end of middle school. You never knew why. You settled in with the popular crowd and Hazel settled in to her own niche. But it hurt you so badly and came right as you realized you had feelings for her. You have pushed those feelings down over the years, you’ve even had a girlfriend. But seeing Hazel like this, your old feelings are bubbling up to the surface. 

Her eyes just widen, surprised, as if you had been the one to push her away. She tries to hide it, but a smile starts to creep across her face. “I guess I could use some help cleaning up. It doesn’t usually get so messy, I swear.”

“Oh believe me, I’m going to need to hear more about this fight club. But right now we need to do something about all of this blood,” your voice is tender, you are not sure exactly what she’s been through today and you want to be delicate. 

You put your things down and grab a paper towel. You wet it and get closer to Hazel. As you reach towards her face she takes a sharp breath in. You aren’t sure why though, you haven’t even touched her yet. 

“I promise I’m going to be as gentle as I can, but it’s still going to hurt,” you explain. 

Hazel just nods and closes her eyes.

You begin to dab the wet paper towel on her face and the blood starts to come off. She winces with pain and says “ow” every once in a while, her eyes still sealed shut. 

“Why don’t you talk to me? It’ll distract you from the pain.” You are suggesting it for her, but also for you. You’ve really missed talking to Hazel.

She opens her eyes to look at you with a tense expression.

“Right, right. Good idea. Um… how have you been?”

“Well I haven’t been punched in the face recently, so better than you,” you laugh a little and she does too. 

“Fight club is great, for real. Yeah we get a little banged up, but it’s a safe space.”

You can’t help but laugh more as you echo “safe space.”

You expect her to continue to defend her new venture but she quickly changes the subject instead. 

“So, how’s your um,” Hazel pauses to clear her throat, “girlfriend?”

That takes you by surprise. You didn’t really talk to Hazel at all but you guess that it makes sense that she would know which lesbians are in relationships with each other. 

“Oh, we actually broke up. Last week,” you tell her shyly. It’s weird discussing your love life with someone that has your old feelings for her creeping up on you. 

“I’m… sorry to hear that.” Does she sound relieved? It wasn’t a secret that your ex wasn’t exactly the nicest to you, so that must be it. 

“It was for the best. Things weren’t exactly good between us,” you admit.

“You deserve so much better than her!” Hazel blurts out unexpectedly.

“I… thank you. That means a lot to me.” She just nods her head. 

You take a step back and her eyes widen, seeming to think it was her fault. 

“I’m done,” you tell her and you see a wave of relief come over her.

“What are we going to do about that shirt?”

“I’ll just change when I get home.” Hazel tells you. 

“No, no.” You protest and pick up your hoodie. You offer it to her “take this.”

Hazel’s eyes dart around nervously. “That’s, um, okay.”

“You are going to get your little fight club disbanded” you warn, “if anyone sees you walking around with blood all over you like that. It’s bad enough that you’ve got a black eye. Plus everyone is still freaking out about that girl getting beat up by the Huntington football player.”

Hazel takes a nervous breath and starts to pull her shirt off. Your eyes widen and you know you should look away but it’s hard to when she reveals her toned stomach and sports bra. “What are you…” you begin to question frantically. 

She cuts you off, “I don’t want to get any blood on your sweatshirt.”

You nod and finally peel your eyes off of her. You look away but leave your hand out so she can take the hoodie. 

After a moment she clears her throat and you look back at her. You can’t help but smile a little bit seeing your hoodie on Hazel. 

“I better get going,” she says and she starts to walk away. You step in front of her.

“Your eye is practically swollen shut. You can’t drive like that. I’ll give you a ride home.”

She freezes like a dear in headlights. She looks like she’s about to protest but she knows you are right. 

“But my car? How am I supposed to get back to it, get to school tomorrow?” She asks nervously. 

“I’ll just drive you to school tomorrow,” you tell her with a smirk. You can’t help it. The thought of getting to spend more time with Hazel excites you. She looks a little intimidated by how forward you are. She avoids eye contact. “I guess I’ll grab my stuff.”

[muffinrecord]

Current Plans + Musings

I don't plan on playing Exedra to the degree I did for Magia Record, or playing it at all. Because of that, I won't be taking an active role in the community and archiving anything for it. Of course, if Exedra has like amazing gameplay and stories then this is all subject to change, but for now I think I'm done with phone games.

The two youtube channels will stay up and I'll check em periodically to make sure there aren't copyright strikes against the content. I've saved all my raw files, especially for the battle animations, so I can remake them in the future if the music ever becomes a problem for some reason.

Google Drive will stay up until Google rots away. I haven't recorded footage in a long time (as in stories, I do for the character doppels and such), but I'll upload things if they're sent to me.

Magia Union Translations still plans on translating things and making videos, especially leading up to the end, but also for after the game is over for whatever wasn't made in time. I'm not sure what form this will take in the future-- if it'll be manual captions added to the videos or not, but I know it WILL happen.

As for this blog, I'm not going to delete it or anything. However I'm going to be taking a step back. I'd like to say that I'll do liveblogs but I mean... *gestures at blog* I've been saying that for years and the only one I really did successfully was the Oriko one lmao. Ahhh oh well.

I'll have more words later, but it was really fun to be part of a fandom experience like this. I'm excited to work on my own original story projects though and quiet down a bit.

...

When I started this blog, I never expected it to have people actually read it. Or look at it. I just wanted a place to gush about how much fun I was having. I didn't even want to tag the posts with "Magia Record" at first because I was terrified people would be mean at me, haha.

But I'm glad I did. I made so many good friends through this game. I'm glad it existed. And it made me happy to have a place where people cared about what I had to say. Some folks actually got their news from here, can you imagine that? They had notifications turned on for this blog. My god.

Anyways, I'm going to be here for the next two months, and tomorrow I'll start reblogging fan projects and initiatives, plus general news. Maybe this blog will turn into a dumping site for art and fanfic reblogs, who knows. I might watch the remaining stuff and add various thoughts here and there.

Otherwise, you can find me on my main blog @malignmuffin, which only reblogs stuff (I don't talk much if at all there). I have another tumblr blog for my comic, but I think I'll reshare the name once I actually have content you can look at on it. It's pretty bare bones for the moment.

Actually it'll be funny if the end of this game is what makes me finally work on it again. I was in the process of working on it when NA came out, and it totally derailed me. Stopped writing, drawing, just focused on this silly little phone game. Now it's like those five years have gone by and I'm going back to where I started, except I think my lil comic is going to be a bit better than it was before. If I actually make it, that is.

If I ever do actually make my comic and start posting it, I'll be sure to update y'all here. hah

Anyways, thanks for being on this wild ride with me. The memories have been great, and I'm glad I had this experience, even if it had to end.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Sixteen

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers,

I'm so sorry! I've been so sick, but do not fret this fic is still alive!

Events of this fic take place right after Western Energy S2E4 of Helluva Boss. Full Moon events have not yet happened.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Sixteen - Let's Kill God

Content Warning: Minors DNI!!!!!! Mentions of murder-suicide

Alastor smiles in his sleep. 

It’s not his Radio Demon smile. It’s not his half-cocked know-it-all grin. It’s a soft upturn of the lips, a bittersweet smile that’s more sweet than bitter. One that can only be worn properly by the innocence of youth and not by an Overlord of Hell. You’ve only seen that look on his face once before: in Louisiana. 

Over a round of King Cakes, Alastor told you of his mother and her joy. He made her seem perfect: the exact embodiment of what a mother should be. Your heart twisted in your chest for him. To have been loved, cared for, and cherished like that and then to have lost her in such a violent way…

Still, to have a mother ~period~ and one who raised such a respectable gentleman (despite the murders and cannibalism) is a treasure. In this moment, seeing the peace on Alastor’s sleeping face, you understand why he became the Bayou Strangler and then later the Radio Demon. To go after men of such caliber, of such terrible deeds over and over again. To prevent further violence and murder, those men might have committed.  

It was like he was saving his mother over and over again with each of their deaths. 

Alastor then wasn’t the Alastor you knew now. He was a completely different person before his father shot his mother in a murder-suicide. Just an innocent young man looking to make his own way in this world, all the while just trying to make his mother smile. He was powerless then and he’d never let himself be powerless ever again. 

That’s where his thirst first took root: a legend born of violence. Not much different from yourself. 

Alastor attempted to turn over in his sleep, but when his body couldn’t subconsciously turn from his back to his side, it woke him. The demon blinked out of synch, his left eye blinking and then his right, as if blinking the blanket of sleep away. It was cute, the way he dreamily met your gaze and smiled even wider. You couldn’t help but match his grin. 

“It seems I am trapped,” his voice was groggy as he spoke. 

“Oh, no. Whatever shall you do?” You joked. 

You woke not long ago, minutes before the demon stirred himself. Eventually, the silence of the room woke you. There was no music on his radio, no static - a barrier of white noise to keep out the silence that haunted your dreams. 

When you had woken you didn’t move. At some point in the night your wings had appeared and cocooned the two of you in a black blanket of feathers. It’s a good thing your feathers were soft - unlike some of your brothers whose wings poked and itched like Hell whenever you rubbed up against them. 

Alastor scooted closer to you, his eyelids drooping. The demon once told you he barely ever slept - his own personal curse. Yet, last night, the two of you passed out the second your heads hit the pillow. 

It had been a long, exhausting day, after all…

The thought that Alastor finally found some peace was a relief to you and most likely explained the radio silence. His body was finally able to relax, which meant he felt safe here, cocooned in your swaddle of protection. 

You snuggled up into the demon, not wanting to leave the warmth of your embrace, which encased the two of you from head to knees - well, your calves and Alastor’s knees. 

Alastor pressed a kiss to your forehead, “How are you this morning, mon couer?” 

You sighed in the fluff of his chest at the sound of Alastor’s raw and unfiltered voice, “Sore.” 

It was true. Your body had taken a beating - most notably your lower abdomen.

Alastor chuckled, the vibrations running through his chest and into your own. God, you’d kill if only to hear that sound again, a moment more. 

The demon ran a hand through your hair, the other trapped beneath the pillow supporting your head. Alastor shivered when you ran your foot across his calves and over his hooves. 

Hooves. Damn. Alastor was the only demon classy enough to not only make them look posh but also sexy at the same time. If only Hell knew. Maybe he would have won Hell’s Hottest Bachelor, after all. 

As the demon massaged your scalp, your wings tightened as if sensing the end of your perfect moment slowly slipping away. The two of you have been hiding up here since the fight. You hadn’t called anyone or texted anyone to let them know that you were alive - not that you could text, but Alastor did have a hidden landline. Rosie was probably the only one to think that the two of you didn’t kill each other off and that’s only because she was playing matchmaker and was still holding out. Everyone else? They are going to be pissed.

“What’s wrong?” Alastor asked, cupping your chin and tilting your face into his. The red of Alastor’s irises burned into your cheeks. 

If you ever found whatever force designed Humann Sinners’ demon forms, you would thank it a million times over for this man. 

Apparently, you had sighed a bit too loud at the thought of Angel throttling you when you got back to the Hotel.

“I just… I don’t want this to end,” you swallowed dryly. “I’ve had so few perfect moments in my life that I’ve learned to appreciate one when I am in it, but I'm desperate for them to never end.” 

Honestly, you had no idea what life was going to look like now, what it was going to look like when the two of you went back to the Hotel -  if there was a Hotel to go back to. What if Charlie didn’t want you there anymore? All your presence would do is invite competition, just as Sir Pentious came seeking Alastor that first fateful day you met. Not to mention the sheer emotional and mental damage you put Charlie through by lying to her about who you really are. 

Charlie had every reason to hate you and every reason to kick you out. What then? Would the rest of the Hotel gang still want to be friends with someone like you? It’s bad enough they know you're an Angel, but an Archangel at that… Mikaela Morningstar, the famous Golden Girl and General of all of God’s armies, and now a Hotel guest of Princess Morningstar. That’s a sentence you never thought you’d say. 

So no, you didn’t want to leave your little cocoon of protection just yet, but you knew you needed to. You had to face reality eventually…

“This does not have to end,” Alastor breathed into your hair, the demon woefully intoxicated on your scent.

You scrunch your nose in confusion. 

The demon ran his thumb over your cheek, “Join me for dinner tonight and we can pick up right where we left off?” 

A flock of butterflies erupted in your chest, “Alastor Hartfelt, are you asking me on a date?” 

As if in response, the radio on the side table flickered to life. Alastor smiled his half-cocked grin as Nat King Cole’s “Darling je vous aime beaucoup” thrummed to life on the radio. 

Oh, my God. A date. A date with the Radio Demon? A date with the Radio Demon! A date with Alastor! You’d compare this sensation to how you felt when Vox asked you out - repeatedly, you might add - but didn’t want to think of the overgrown iPod while you were naked in bed with Alastor. 

“I…” You smiled in disbelief. “I…”

“Say yes,” Alastor’s free hand found your hip. He pulled you flush against him, running his claws down your thigh, he hooked it over his waist. Your leg sat perfectly in the dip of where his hip crested - as if it was designed just for you. 

Actually, all of Alastor fit you like a glove: his hands a perfect cup full for your breasts; the way his curves matched yours as you lay enveloped within each other on your sides; he was the perfect height for you to lean into him and rest your head on the fluff of his chest. 

“Yes,” you said, capturing his lips with yours, but pulled back with a gasp as Alastor flipped you atop him. 

Straddling Alastor’s waist, your wings instinctively stretched out, unfolding to their full width. Groaning, you rolled your shoulders, working out the stiffness that had cultivated overnight. How long were you unconsciously cuddling Alastor like that? 

“Absolutely breathtaking,” the demon lay mesmerized by your feathers. Capturing a feather between his fingers, the demon traced the length of its spine, relishing in the softness of the black vane. 

Rarely have your wings been touched by hands not your own. Pain. Your wings have only known pain. In battle, they’ve been stabbed by steel, sliced by arrows, singed by magic… Bare hands have only ripped and shredded your plume. Never have they been touched by strong yet gentle hands. It was almost a shock to the system to feel his fingers caress your feathers.   

And, apparently, wings are very sensitive…  

You saw the question in his eyes before he even asked it. “I didn’t portal to Hell the day Rosie found me,” you shuttered when he collected another feather between his fingers, this one lower down and longer than the previous. “I slipped between the planes, the way a Soul would after it died. I didn’t notice that my wings had turned black or my hair grey until after Carmilla strung me up from the ceiling of Rosie’s back room, and the evidence was lying at my feet.” 

Alastor’s expression suddenly changed, his eyebrows knit together, his smile flattened to a thin line. “Did it hurt?”

You blinked. “Did what hurt?” 

“When you fell from Heaven?” A half-cocked smile slowly spread across his face. 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Before you had a chance to stop him, Alastor flipped you again, this time placing himself on top. With wings splayed out around you - the tips just barely brushing the edge of Alastor’s gigantic mattress - the demon’s body encased your own. The fluff of his chest pressed into your bare breasts as he leaned in for a kiss. His tongue strokes yours for the briefest of moments before retreating. 

“How I do so enjoy the taste of you, mon couer,” the demon purred, placing one hand beside your head to support himself. The other found the crest of your wings. Tracing the bend in your black cape with his finger, the demon maintained eye contact, watching as your lips parted, the gasp escaping your teeth. 

His eyes sparked. “And that look, that sound - that reassures me that I have ensnared you as much as you have me.” 

“I think you also like torturing me,” you breathed, your heart kicking up as Alastor aligned his hips with yours. You were both naked - having foregone even the bathrobes not long after your session on the balcony. 

Alastor tilted his head back and laughed before wrapping his hands around your waist and tugging you down into him. Alastor’s cock was pressed firmly between your hips and his, settling on your lower belly. You debated folding your wings away, but the thought of fucking Alastor while his fingers stroked your feathers…

“Mon couer, I love torturing you.”

Before you had a chance to question his choice of words, Alastor sheathed himself inside you. You cry out at the sudden sensation, but already, he is withdrawing and thrusting back in. Wrapping your arms around his neck… 

There was a pull behind your navel. You stopped abruptly, your entire body freezing. Alastor also froze, sensing the sudden change. 

Orange and mint. Your vision was flooded with the hues of purple. Fuck. “Octavia,” you breathed. 

Alastor slowly pulled out, moving so you could jump to your feet. “The armoire on the left.”

Folding your wings in and magicking them away, you jumped to your feet. The wooden wardrobe was stocked with clothes you had never seen before—all obviously here for you. Move now, question later. Grabbing for a pair of pants, you searched the room for the black underwear and bra Alastor took off you yesterday two days ago? 

“Top drawer,” Alastor motioned to the dresser by the bathroom door. The demon sat on the bed, his elbows on his knees, the sheets covering his more sensitive parts - the parts your heart really wanted to see. 

You pulled open the first drawer, questioningly, before slamming it shut. “That is not underwear,” you couldn’t help but snort. 

Alastor raised an eyebrow. 

“Was that Rosie’s idea or yours?” You pulled on the slacks as Alastor ditched the bedsheets for a closer look. You stared then, taking your fill of where exactly that red happy trail led before he pulled open the drawer. 

The demon looked as shocked as you did, but there was an underlying hint of devilry that gleamed in his eye. Okay, so it was Rosie’s idea, but Alastor was more than pleased by it. You huffed and pulled out the least scandalous bra in the drawer—red, of course—and spun before pulling it on. You couldn’t look Alastor in the eye for fear you might never leave this bedroom again - not that you were complaining. 

The demon grabbed a grey sweater with a turtle neck - the same color as your hair - and a black clip. He held it behind you as you threaded your arms through the sleeves. Alastor took the buttons from you while you flipped your hair into a knot, the metal securing it in place. You did a double-take. Was Alastor taking care of you? 

SNAP! A portal appeared. The color of the sky told you it was the Pride Ring. What was Octavia doing in the Sinner Circle? 

The demon wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Fuck, he was still hard. 

A wave of cold breezed past your ankles. “You’re not sending me alone.” A statement, not a question.

Alastor pressed a kiss to your forehead as a cold breeze swam past your ankles again: Rolf. You should have guessed - the demon didn’t leave you alone when you were his enemy, why would he start now when you were his… His what exactly? You didn’t dare ask, it was too soon, too early to broach that topic. But one thing did pop into your head as you stepped through the crack in reality: what were you going to tell Rosie?

 The Radio Demon smirked as he handed you a pair of shoes, “Till tonight, mon couer.”

POP! The portal closed, leaving you with a pair of brand-new Mary Janes in a dirty alleyway. You allowed yourself one final breath to think of the demon who so often took it away before bolting for the street. 

It was time to move. 

“Stolas got what? How…? He can get hurt?” Blitz’s voice carried over the crowd of reporters swarming the main entrance to St. An’s Hospital. 

What the fuck is going…

“Thestral!” Octavia appears behind you before you got a chance to speak, tugging you towards the I.M.P. Crew who looked absolutely defeated. 

Millie and Moxie are covered in blood. Loona’s in a cone. Blitz just looks absolutely dumbstruck. What is happening? 

“Where is he?” Octavia demands of the group. The poor owlette looks scared out of her mind. Which is saying a lot because she rarely shows emotion on her face. The girl could cycle through five different emotions and if you couldn’t hear the inflection in her voice you would never know what she was thinking. 

“They just took ‘em inside,” Millie bows her head. 

“How…” Blitz’s voice cracks. The imp continues to stare into the crowd, his mind still not truly processing the events unfolding before him. Meanwhile Loona is passed out in the back seat of the van. 

Jesus, what kind of day did they have? More importantly, why are you being summoned only now? Or had you been summoned earlier but were too busy to notice? 

Guilt sours in your stomach. 

Octavia takes one look at the crowd, and immediately you know what she’s thinking. 

“Rolf,” I whisper, knowing the shadow can hear me. “Get us up there.” 

Taking hold of Octavia’s arm, Rolf shadows you into a sterile white hallway. A team of plague doctors work vehemently behind a glass wall, doing whatever it is healers do to injured Goetia Princes. 

A sob rocks through Octavia’s chest as she collapses against the window. You do your best to catch her, your mind flitting through a million different scenarios as to how exactly this could have happened. 

Angels can die. Goetian Princes can get hurt. 

What next…? 

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It had been hours before the plague doctors allowed you and Octavia to enter the room. It was hours while you stood there and did nothing but watch. You could have healed him right then and there with your blood. You could have done something to ease his suffering instantly…

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not with the media breathing down your neck outside and an entire hospital monitoring his health. Hell knew you were an Angel, but they didn’t know what you could do. That was a secret you weren’t going to share but you did let yourself think about it if only for a moment. 

You stared down at your hands, your blackened fingers looking more elegant and refined than lethal. They didn’t look like weapons—not like Alastor’s claws. Your skin was soft, absent of callouses and scars a battle-borne soldier should have. In fact, you never scarred, save for the bite mark that refused to fade from your neck. It’s almost as if your body heard your wish and kept that one just for you. 

But your hands… If you didn’t know any better, you’d say they were hands of healing, not hurting. Was that what you were intended for before Father dug his twisted sense of morals into your brain? If not, then why gift you with the power of healing? Lucifer couldn’t do that. None of your brothers could. Their blood was golden, but it wasn’t magical. 

Why was yours? 

You swallowed that thought, the emotions burning your throat as you made to stand. You had to get back to the Hotel eventually, and Octavia was passed out in the chair at her dad’s side, a blanket thrown over her sleeping form. 

“She won’t forgive you when she finds out, you know?” Stolas’ voice shakes you from your thoughts. How long had he been awake? 

“Stolas,” you find your seat once more. “I’m sorry I…”

“You did not know,” the Prince answers softly, afraid of waking his sleeping owlette. “Neither did Octavia.”

“What happened?” You whisper back.

“Take Octavia to her mother, will you?” He changes the subject. If he didn’t want to talk about it, you didn’t blame him. You’ve seen enough shell-shocked soldiers to know when to leave it be. At least he was awake and talking.

“I will,” you breathe. Stolas still thought you were trustworthy enough to take care of his daughter even though…? “I gave myself away in Louisiana, didn’t I?” The keys. He knew a Human Sinner couldn’t cross between Rings. Yesterday’s news merely confirmed it. 

Stolas met your gaze then, his usual soft eyes now full of… despair. “You have protected my daughter like you would a sister, and for that, I am grateful, but after today…” The Prince huffed. “Take her to her mother and take the card with you.” 

You blinked. “Stolas, I would never hurt Octavia…”

“Take. It. With. You.” The Prince commanded, steel coating his words. “And the keys…” He added as an afterthought. 

You didn’t dare say another word. The message was clear as day. Fuck, you couldn’t argue with him. Your mere presence invited trouble now that Hell knew who and what you were. Regardless of how you run into Octavia in the future, you’d be putting her at risk just by being around her. 

And Stolas was a father scorned…

You nodded your head before collecting a sleeping Octavia in your arms. 

“Goodbye Stolas…” And Rolf shadowed you into darkness. 

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“Are you sure this is the right place?” Keenie squeaked. 

“Of course, I’m sure!” Cletus barked from his place beside her. 

“I’m so excited!” Collin sang. 

The three banished Cherubs stood peaking around the corner, searching the growing mob of media crowding the front doors. 

“She’s not just going to walk right in the front door!” Keenie argued, the yellow floof of her hair swaying with the shake of her head. “Look at how many demons are here!” 

“Well, how else is she going to get in?” Cletus argued. 

“Oh! Oh! During the Battle of Troy, she convinced the Greeks to build a giant wooden horse to hide inside…” Collin began.

Cleatus banged him on top of the head. “Would you shut up!? Mikaela Morningstar isn’t going to sneak inside the Hazbin Hotel in a horse! This isn’t one of your fan club meetings!” 

Two days ago, Cleatus received a phone call from Rachel, who had given them an ultimatum. Track down the rogue Angel and bring her home. In exchange, they earn back their place in Heaven. 

Then Cleatus got the picture. 

And Collin went ape-shit.

“Hey! The Golden Girls are not just a fan club, okay? We are a group of warriors who would volunteer our lives if General Morningstar were to ever go to war again! We have studied, we have trained…”

“We are annoying!” Keenie interrupted him. “I swear if I have to hear one more…!” 

“Stop it!” Kleatus jumped in the middle. “Look!” 

The Cherub pointed down the road to a figure melting from the shadows. A silver-haired, pale-faced woman took one look at the growing crowd blocking the entrance to the Hotel before taking a step back and disappearing once more. It was but a moment but it was long enough. 

“That’s her!” Collin’s jaw was practically on the floor, his eyes glazed over in amazement. “The last time I saw her in person was during the Welcome Home parade after the last Crusades on Earth!”

Kleatus and Keenie nodded at one another. 

It was confirmed. Their target was none other than the famous Archangel Mikaela Morningstar. And they were going to bring her home whether she liked it or not. 

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Niffty’s voice was the first one you heard as you shadowed into the lobby of the Hotel. “Yeah. Where are your tits?”

Vaggie sighs, “Any other questions?”

Husk grumbles, “I got one. How come every time Charlie talks to Heaven, we get in deeper and deeper shit?”

The gang hadn’t noticed you yet as you quietly tiptoed into the foyer—well, except for Alastor. The zip of static running down your spine told you he was here, and he knew you were, too. You hadn’t really talked to the crew since the big reveal. You didn’t know how they were going to take it, but walking in on a conversation such as this was not boding well for you. 

The ex-exorcist rubs her temples, “It's not her fault. Angels are just…”

Angel Dust interrupts, “Liars?”

And the other shoe drops…

“Mikaela, how lovely it is for you to finally join us!” Alastor lights up like a Christmas tree as you round the corner.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him in a newly pressed black tailored suit. Seems Rosie made him more than one, but this one put him in all black - even the suit jacket beneath. His hair was tied back from his face into a short ponytail at the back of his head, accenting his sharp teeth as he beamed at you. 

God, you loved this man in form-fitting black. It made the butterflies in your belly fly circles in anticipation. And his hair? You never wanted to wear your hair up again for fear of never feeling Alastor’s fingers combing through it ever again. Meanwhile, you never wanted Alastor to wear his down. He was too handsome, too deadly, too enticing, with his hair pulled back from his face. 

You froze as all eyes fell on you. 

Fuck. What do you do? Do you greet Alastor back and find a seat? Do you sit by him? Do you sit far away from him? Do you not even respond at all? Do you respond normally - wait, what would normal even look like!? 

You didn’t know what to do. You and Alastor hadn’t had a talk to straighten out whatever was between you. You didn’t establish boundaries or titles - if there were even titles to be given. No, this was all too soon. Maybe Alastor didn’t even want to have any titles? Maybe he wanted to keep this all a secret? Revealing what you meant to him…

Alastor stood and crossed the distance between the two of you before you could even think. Claiming your hand in his, the demon pressed a kiss to the top and smiled, “Tu es toujours aussi belle, ma cherie. You look as lovely as ever, my darling.”

You sucked in a breath, waiting for the others’ reactions.

“I’m outta ‘ere!” Angel threw his many hands in the air before stomping away. The spider demon stormed up the stairs, not daring even a glance in your direction. 

Was Angel mad at you?

“Come,” Alastor leads you to the sofa as Rolf swirls around your feet. “Take a seat.” 

The demon sat you at the end of the couch, directly adjacent to the armchair he had been inhabiting before you showed up. 

Husk gave you a quick nod as you passed, signaling that things between the two of you were good. However, the nasty look he shot Alastor after displayed his disapproval of that situation. Yet the group did not comment. Probably too afraid of what Alastor might do, had they. 

“Charlie’s trying her best,” Vaggie continued. The Ex-Exorcist didn’t know what to make of you in that moment, her eyes constantly flitting back to Alastor who was currently humming in his chair, nonchalantly listening to the conversation. The demon did love gossip.

You had a sickening feeling that Vaggie’s eventual confrontation was coming. Not at this moment, however. She had enough on her plate to deal with. 

Husk took a swig of his drink. “Yeah, well, her best is turning out real well so far.” 

You blinked, finally noting the Princess’ absence. “Where is Charlie anyway?” 

Vaggie shot you a look you couldn’t smell - the scents too muddled together. Exasperation? Annoyance? Sadness? Guilt. Definitely guilt. “She’s upstairs. Coming up with something. I’m sure. In our room. Alone.” 

Alastor’s “Hmm,” would have been barely perceptible had you not been hyper-aware of the demon’s every move. Alastor leaned in, “I’ll be back in a moment, ma cherie.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “What happened to ‘mon couer?” You teased.

The demon’s grin turned sideways. “I think that’s best saved for when we are… alone.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Can hear everything the two of you are saying,” Husk grumbled next to you. “Just so ya’ know.” 

Your face heated as Alastor melted into shadow, silently giggling as Rolf whisked him away. 

Nifty ran to the base of your shoes, “Where are your wings?” 

POP! 

The black mass of feathers unfurled behind you 

“Ooooohhhhh,” Sir Pentious clapped. “Ssssssssplendid!” 

“Owe!” You jumped. 

Nifty grabbed a fistful of feathers. The tiny demon laughed maniacally, “For my collection.” Then she took off to who knows where to do who knows what. 

Yet again, you repeat to yourself, Nifty was not a mystery you wanted to solve. 

“Show off,” you heard Vaggie mutter. 

Okay, you kinda felt bad about Vaggie’s situation, but now everyone knows. 

“Hey, aren't you like her boss or something?” Husk asks. 

And the questions begin.

“Technically no…”

You begin, but Vaggie interrupts you, “The General was in charge of God’s armies. The Exorcists are under Adam’s domain and technically a secret division in Heaven.” 

“Wait,” Husk does a double take. “You mean to tell me that Heaven doesn’t even know about the Exterminations?” 

“Nope,” Vaggie crosses her arms. 

“What kind of fucked up…” 

Maniacal laughter interrupts the conversation as Nifty sprints back into the foyer, a ball of golden fluff in her hands. “Look! Look! Look!” She sings like a small child. “Another for my collection!” 

“What isssss that?” Sir Pentious asks. 

Husks plucks it out of her little hands. The tiny demon protests, jumping for her newfound treasure as the cat demon holds it out of reach. “It looks like wool.” 

“Like from a sssssheep?” The snake demon slivers over to get a better look. 

“Nifty, where did you get that?” Vaggie prods. 

“The little flying sheep gave me…”

“Ahhh!” You collapse as a burst of power shoots through your core, the sudden intrusion of magic burning you from the inside out. The room is plunged into an aura of green as your face hits the carpet. 

“No. No!” Vaggie screams and runs for Charlie’s room. 

Husk slowly lifts you off the floor and guides you back onto the sofa. “Are you okay, kid?” 

“Yeah, I’m…” You hold your head to force the world to stop spinning, the pain fading as fast as it had appeared. Whatever the fuck that was, it felt… familiar. “What was that?” 

Husk looked at you as if you had grown a second head. “It looked like Boss’ static.” 

Alastor’s magic. That was impossible. You released Alastor from his contract. You couldn’t have access to his magic anymore. At least, you shouldn’t. Right? 

Looking down at your hands you watch the remainder of the green aura fade into your skin. Your blood, it felt energized as if a surge of electricity had charged it like a battery. It was eerily similar to the feeling you got when you had Velvette by the throat atop V Tower. 

You had wielded Alastor’s magic in that fight as if it were your own. His static jumped at your command, the power pooling into a well large enough to take down one of Crim’s balls of electricity. Fuck, even your voice became riddled with Alastor’s radio filter. 

You had chalked that up to the verbal contract the two of you had made many moons ago atop the radio tower. Now? Now it didn’t make sense…

Sir Pentious joins you on the couch. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I just…” You had an instinct to run to Alastor since whatever had just happened was because of him. That’s why Vaggie took off for Charlie’s room. Did he… Did he make a deal? Is that what that was? You started to panic. 

Did he own Charlie’s soul? Did Charlie even have a soul? 

Shit. That’s not how this was supposed to go. Charlie was supposed to be an intermediary in this plan - a tool to threaten Heaven and nothing more. She wasn’t supposed to become part of the game. 

Wait. Wait! Don’t panic. Alastor also made a deal with Lilith and Lilith wasn’t stupid. If the protection of Charlie was part of your deal then it was also a part of Alastor’s. Whatever the demon had just done, Charlie wouldn’t be harmed. 

Hopefully…

You sat back on the couch, your mind swimming with a million different questions, but deep down… Deep down, you trusted Alastor. 

Fuck. You trusted him. 

“I just need to lie down a bit…” 

You trusted him, and you were okay with it. 

And suddenly, the ever-solo Golden Girl found herself not so lonely anymore. And you didn’t mind it - the thought of your little solo act suddenly becoming a duo. 

Only if that’s what Alastor also wanted…

____________________________________________

Shit. Fuck. Shit. 

You stood in nothing but a towel before the red dress hanging in your closet. That!? Rosie had made you that!? That devil of a woman. You were going to have a serious talk about her recent lengths regarding your wardrobe. Red, you were okay with, but the lingerie and now this!? 

The dress was a red crepe with a low-hanging neckline and thigh-high leg slit. It was completely backless, which meant you were going to have to wear your hair down (which you wanted to do anyway). But, it also meant hiding your rune in public was going to be difficult. 

Which meant you were going to need a shawl or something to cover it up. You didn’t have a shawl, however, but you know who would. And you got the sense that he was royally pissed with you. 

Forgoing your bath towel for a Hotel robe, you quietly tiptoed to Angel’s door. You didn’t know why you felt the need to be quiet; not like Angel was going to attack you or anything, but instinct just took over. 

There was music playing on the other side of the door—some sort of pop music, probably something by Verosika Mayday. You and Angel hadn’t really talked since Lucifer’s visit when he convinced you to tell Alastor the truth. Sure, he watched over you during that week when you and Alastor weren’t talking, but you had pushed him away the entire time. You had snapped, argued, rolled your eyes, and dismissed any attempt he had at trying to break you from your spiral of depression and guilt. 

You had pushed and pushed, and all he did was try to help you. So when you quietly knocked on his door, it wasn’t so much to ask for a shawl or a jacket or whatever. It was to apologize. 

“Go away!” Angel yelled over the music.

“Angel, can we talk?” You rubbed the back of your neck, the bubbles of anxiety festering within. 

There was a moment of silence before the door slowly opened but a crack. The spider demon stood on the other side, closed off despite his willingness to engage in conversation. God, he looked angry. 

“What?” His words were sharp and pointed. 

Fuck, you hadn’t thought this through, you hadn’t rehearsed anything. So, you simply said, “You seem mad…”

Angel raised an eyebrow, “Ya’ tink? Did ya’ big scary Angel powers tell ya’ that?” 

Shit. 

“Angel, I…”

“Be careful what ya’ say, Hairclip. Every time ya’ open ya’ mouth, ya’ lie.” Angel snaps.

Ah, that’s why he’s mad. 

“I…” 

Fuck, you weren’t good at this feelings thing. You were awkward and couldn’t understand how to comfort others. Friendships - not alliances - were new to you. But hadn’t that been what you were doing from the start? Despite your apprehension, you had grown attached to the Hazbin crew and they you. 

They were your friends and so it was time you started acting like one. 

Your Endgame plan was growing more and more complicated by the day. 

“I’m sorry,” it came out as a whisper. “I’ve been a terrible friend. I’ve disappeared on you not once but twice now. I’ve lied. I’ve manipulated. I’ve done nothing but hurt you and use you and for that I am sorry. I’m a horrible friend and for that I do not deserve your friendship.” You hung your head low. 

Angel sucked his golden tooth, the hallway filling with awkward tension. And right before you thought it was going to explode in a wave of anger, Angel spoke. “Look,” he huffed. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I never pretended to be somethin’ I ain’t.” 

Right. That’s what killed Angel in the end. A gay Italian gangster in his time… The demon’s overdose wasn’t an accident. 

“But, if we’re gonna do this friendship thang, we gotta do it right. No more of this lyin’ and disappearin’ bullshit.” With one set of hands on his hip, the spider demon opens the door completely. 

Wait. What? 

“And you're gettin’ a phone. I want no pushback on that one, sistah. I ain’t havin’ ya’ disappear on me again without at least a heads-up.”

Holy shit. You thought he was going to cut you out of his life like Stolas had, but no, he was making room for you in it. With stipulations, of course, but you could follow his rules, no problem! Whatever he wants so long as you still get to call him a friend. 

A friend! A real friend you didn’t want to kill and who didn’t want to kill you! A friend that wasn’t being ordered by Father to hang out with you or forced to follow your orders! 

You jumped on the demon, bringing him into a bear hug that squeezed the breath from his chest. 

“Thank you,” you breathed into his fluff. 

“Alright, alright, toots. Come inside, we got a lot of catchin’ up to do….”

____________________________________________

“Why is she just standing there?” Cleatus whispered.

“She looks so pretty!” Collin drooled. 

“This is our moment. We should go confront her.” Keenie shoved Collin out of the way. 

“Wait!” Cleatus grabbed Keenie by her floof and hauled her back around the corner. 

“Hey! Stop it! My head is still sore from that rat pulling out my hair!” The sheep protested. 

“What are you going to say?” Cleatus whispered. “Hello, General Morningstar, we’re here to take you back to Heaven, so if you’ll just follow us…” 

“So pretty…” Collin continued to ogle at the Angel standing before the doorway in a red, form-fitting dress. Her hair pooled down her back and shoulders in curled waves of silver. The curved neckline accented her breasts, while the backless dress swooped just above the crest of her hips, highlighting her feminine silhouette. “She’s as beautiful as she is heavenly.” The goat swooned. 

Cleatus rolled his eyes. “We need a plan.”

“How do you know she’s not here on a mission from Heaven?”Collin stepped in. “Why do you assume she’s Fallen?” 

“She’s in Hell. Cavorting with demons!” Keenie shook him. “She’s killed human souls. We all saw the footage, Collin.” 

“But so did we…!” Collin countered. 

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! 

The three Cherubs stacked their heads as they peered around the corner. A large shadowed figure opened the bedroom door and chaperoned the Angel inside. The door shut and then locked behind her. 

“Now what…?” Keenie mumbled. 

____________________________________________

You wouldn’t be going out tonight. You’d be staying in. As Rolf guided you into Alastor’s pitch-black room, a series of candles lit as if on cue, illuminating a walkway that led into the Bayou. 

“What…”

Rolf smiled as he ushered you down the aisle way of fire, out into the grass of the pocket dimension. Your heels sunk into the ground, the bottom of your red dress dragging in the dirt. The shadow paused to take your shoes, then bunched the train of your dress for you to carry as you made your way across the plain.   

It was night in the Bayou. The only light was from the candles at your feet, which led you towards the ever-growing forest and the twinkle of the stars above. As you grew ever closer to the trees, the soft sound of jazz quickly replaced the chirping of crickets. 

You smiled as the static found your skin and the aura of Alastor’s scent filled your nose. As you rounded the large trunk of a tree, you came upon a small but familiar clearing. The same clearing he had shadowed you that night he meant to confront you. Now it was surrounded by candlelight and at the center… 

“Perfect timing as always, mon couer,” Alastor spun, a glass of wine in one hand and a bottle in the other. 

The demon stood there, hand outstretched with the goblet, in an all-black button-up and trousers. With his hair pulled back, the demon’s eyes soaked you in, and his smile dropped. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight. 

You dropped the train of your dress, the fabric pooling at your feet. “Have I done something wrong?” 

Alastor fell to his knees then and there, his radio skipping off its track. The goblet of wine and the bottle set gently in the glass. Taking your hands in his, he whispered, “You could never do wrong, mon couer.” 

“Then why do you look at me like that?” Your red lips turned down in a pout. 

“Can a demon not be rendered speechless by the most beautiful sight he has ever seen? Can he not be brought to his knees by such a wondrous creature, the embodiment of power itself? Can he not adore the vessel which adorns it, wholly and completely?” 

His words render you breathless, and your mind blanks with a response. Rosie was wrong when she said Alastor showed he cared through his actions, not his words. Alastor took days to show you he cared through action, and by words, well… the demon spoke poetry. 

So when he called you “absolutely beautiful” moments before he stabbed that Angelic blade into your gut, he was not talking about the power itself. He was talking about you. 

You smiled as you cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips to his. For what could you say to match that? 

“Come,” the demon said, climbing to his feet and pressing the goblet of wine in your hand. He had a wicked grin on his face as he led you towards the blanket, which held a picnic of food. “A little birdy informed me you enjoy a nice night in with a home-cooked meal and bottle of wine.” 

You smiled as you sit, “A little cat, you mean?” 

Yes, of course Husk rendered word for word your little rant after your date with Vox. Of course Alastor memorized each one.

“I know not what you mean,” Alastor smiles as he lay next to you, his own glass of wine in his claws. The demon’s fingers found the swoop in the fabric of your dress, his claw tracing the red as it lined your back.  

Goosebumps formed on your skin. “And what of today?” You prod, referring to the small army Charlie arranged to fight Adam and his Exorcists. 

Alastor takes a sip of the glass as he lays back on the blanket, supported by his elbow. “A gift.” 

You blinked. “A gift?” 

“The spark to ignite your war,” he smiles. 

“You did that for me?” You asked. 

Alastor places his glass down next to the picnic basket filled with what you assume is Alastor’s cooking. “Not wholly.” 

You swallowed dryly. “You made a contract?” 

The demon’s eyes fall to the basket. “In exchange, the Princess owes me a favor.” 

Good, not her soul. 

“Charlie can not be harmed,” you said carefully. You were touching upon Lilith but didn’t want to mention her by name, which was a sore topic for Alastor. 

“I cannot, and neither can you,” his hand said, finding your arm and tracing it to the strap on your shoulder. 

Also, good. 

“We have three days,” Alastor continued. “I wish to spend them wisely.”

A.k.a. no more talking of plans and schemes. 

“Speaking of which, you saw Rosie today,” you take another sip. “How mad is she?” 

The demon hooked his claw under your strap, playing with it as he spoke, “On the contrary, the woman is insufferably happy.” 

You beamed. Of course, she is. 

“She’s taken it upon herself to design you a dress.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

“To meet my mother,” Alastor played with the strap, his mind elsewhere. 

Oh… Oh! 

“But she’s… Unreachable at the moment.” You breathed. When had you become so breathless? 

“In Louisiana, darling. I wish to visit her grave. If you’ll take us?” Alastor’s eyes met yours. Nothing but grief and sadness filled them despite the smile on his face. 

“Of course,” you captured his hand with yours and brought it to your cheek. “In a heartbeat.” You press a kiss to his palm. 

The demon smiled. 

“But,” you smirked, “you must promise me something?”

“Anything,” Alastor answered immediately. 

“For the next three days, you’ll train footwork with me.” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow. 

“Your footwork and swordsmanship are atrocious, and…!” 

Alastor grabbed your hand and pulled you onto him. The glass of wine spilled into the grass as the demon wrapped one hand around the back of your neck and brought you into a kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue darted out for yours. 

Alastor broke away, seemingly unphased by the action, a knowing half-cocked grin on his face, “I’m sorry, you were saying?” 

You were… Fuck, your entire mind went blank. 

“I apologize,” he chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you since you arrived. I would have greeted you with a kiss, but this dress was distracting.” 

You smiled back, your cheeks turning as red as the fabric. And then the question hit you again. “Alastor, when you spoke to Rosie today, what did you tell her?” 

The demon’s eyes caught on something behind you. “It’s time.” 

It’s time? 

The demon motioned for you to lay down next to him, your back on the blanket and your eyes on the canopy of the trees. “Alastor, what are we…?” 

“Shh,” the demon shushed. “Wait.” 

The candles winked out at once, plunging the two of you into darkness. It was a rather odd change to the conversation, but you let it happen. It's not like the answer to that question wasn’t killing you inside or anything… 

CLICK! 

Alastor’s radio switched stations. Nat King Col’s “My First and My Last Love” began playing.

🎶I recall all the days of my childhood

And that bashful romance that we knew

In my teens, as I roamed through the wild wood

Then my first and my last love was you 🎶

As if on cue, a wave of green fireflies shot out of the darkness. The small bugs surrounded the two of you, as if you were swimming in your own sea of stars. 

And the answer to your question has finally been answered: “was this romance?” 

🎶When I strayed from our green fields of Clover

Still I knew that my heart would be true

Though I wandered the world like a rover

Still my first and my last love was you🎶

No, this was not romance. It was so much more. 

You turned to Alastor, only to notice that he had not been watching the wonder around you but rather you the entire time. 

🎶And your love haunted me like a song

Till it brought me back where I belong🎶

The green danced in his blown-out pupils as you nudged closer to him. Alastor’s forehead met yours as he whispered, “You asked me what I had told Rosie.” 

🎶Now the days of my youth are behind me

And the years we have left may be few

But my memories will always remind me

That my first and my last love was you🎶 

You nodded. You held your breath in anticipation of his answer. 

“I told her what she had told me long ago,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “That one cannot live without their heart.” The demon cupped your face. “And you are mine, mon couer. I'm your guy, and you're my gal."

You sucked in a breath, “That doesn’t just mean being with me, Alastor. It also entails what comes with.”

🎶And your love haunted me like a song Till it brought me back where I belong🎶

The Endgame. Although Alastor had shown interest, he didn’t necessarily commit. Yes, today was a show of good faith, but there was something in it for him too. You needed a commitment to you and the plan. He could not get one without the other, but the demon already knew that. 

The demon chuckled low. His other hand coming to the slit in your dress, and you gasped as his fingers met the outside of your thigh and climbed higher and higher. At the base of your ass, he grabbed your leg and threw it over his waist, his eyes never leaving yours. 

The green danced all around you as Alastor ran a hand through your silver hair, his fingers playing with your curls. “Well then…”

🎶Now the days of my youth are behind me And the years we have left may be few But my memories will always remind me That my first and my last love was you🎶

His voice was low and filled with lust as he said, “Let’s kill God.”

And before you had a chance to reply, the demon pulled you in and kissed you savagely. 

There was no more need for words after that. The food was long forgotten - for now. You’d be eating it afterward… The demon pulled you fully up onto him, his vision swimming with nothing but you in red and the green of the fireflies surrounding you, illuminating you.

And as Alastor broke the kiss to stare up at the Fallen Angel above him, he had cemented what he had been telling himself all along. He'd destroy, he'd kill, and he'd raise Heaven and Hell if it meant keeping you here by his side. Killing God was a menial task if it meant he got to keep you as the prize, but the Radio Demon had left out a few details regarding his talk with Rosie. You were his heart, that much was true, but he had much bigger plans in store for you.

The demon ran his claw across your bottom lip, admiring the red. Alastor took his time memorizing the shape of your lips, the pooling of your silver hair, and the flash of yellow in your eyes as the green from the fireflies danced around you. He memorized you as if it was his dying breath, for the demon never thought he'd known Heaven till now and had surely died but just hadn’t realized it yet.

He gladly welcomed the day God died. The thought of anyone making a mark on this skin but him... Alastor instinctively growled at the thought. His hand fell from your mouth to your neck. He pushed the hair aside to appreciate the mark. The bruises had faded thanks to your unnatural gift of healing, but the bite at the base of your neck, that one refused to fade.

Good. Let all of Hell know you were his.

Alastor watched as you unfurled your wings behind you, the black masses stretching to their full width. An Angel... He'd laugh if he wasn't so completely enraptured. Who would have ever thought he, Alastor Hartfelt had fallen completely and totally...

He couldn't say the words. He didn't want to scare you, didn't want you to think him another man in your life obsessed to the point of toxicity. You had a history with men, and Alastor didn't want to become just another face that haunted you at night. You've endured enough emotional, mental, and physical torture for one immortal lifetime.

So he didn't say what he was thinking. He'd go slow, give you space and time. He didn't want to push for fear of losing you.

After all, it takes one emotionally damaged soul to know another.

Alastor caressed your wings and watched as your mouth parted ever so slightly, your lips forming that wonderful "o" they make when he catches you off guard with a sudden sensation. By Satan, he loved the little noises and faces he could draw from you.

"Where were we?" Alastor purred. He ran both hands up your thighs, bunching the dress as he went.

Tiny blue sparks jumped from your form and into the grass. The Bayou was a wet and humid place, and it would take more than that to ignite it.

"We have no vèvè to protect us out here, mon couer," despite the demon's warning, his fingers continued to climb until they crested your hips.

Alastor shot you a knowing look, mischief glowing in his eyes.

You weren't wearing any underwear.

You smirked at the demon as you leaned forward, your hands going to his hair as you settled against his chest, your wings folded behind you, "Try not to electrocute me."

"Try not to set my Bayou ablaze," the demon purred, relishing in the feel of your fingers in his antlers.

With your eyes half-lidded, you purred, mocking his tone, "As you command, Mr. Alastor."

Alastor pulled you down to him, but he didn't immediately tear into you as you expected. No. He kissed you slowly and deeply, as if savouring the very taste of you on his tongue.

There was something very, very different about this time.

Alastor’s radio clicks on a smooth jazz, his favorite, actually: Nat King Col's "Unforgettable."

Slowly, Alastor's hands traced your silhouette, caressing your hips, the dip in your waist, the shape of your breasts. His hips did not buck, his teeth did not bite, his lips did not bruise. The demon did not give you any of the usual signs that he was hungry, insatiable as he had been for the past few days.

And then it hit you. Alastor was letting you take the lead.

You smiled against his mouth, and took the opportunity you didn't have before to roam his skin. You followed the chiseled edge of his jaw, to the spot just below his earlobe, before nipping it and eliciting an extremely satisfying gasp from Alastor.

You followed down his neck, planting featherlight kisses until you reached his chest. Alastor liked having only the top two buttons undone when he was being more casual, so when your mouth found the third, your fingers undid the buttons as your lips continued south.

When you hit his belly button, you pulled back to admire the sculpted chest before you. With his shirt completely undone, you traced his pecs with your fingers, following the lines of his muscles down his abdomen to the lean six-pack of his torso.

Alastor's face was red with lust, his eyes glassy, his heart beating at a million miles an hour beneath your hand. To think, you had the Radio Demon completely undone, and you hadn't even taken off your clothes.

And you weren't going to let this go to waste.

You pulled off his belt and then undid the button of his pants. Without hesitation, you grabbed Alastor's shaft and pulled his cock free. The demon grits his teeth as his claws dig into the meat of your hips. You stroke, eliciting a growl deep from within his chest.

Oh, no, you were going to savor this moment.

His head swells as you drag your thumb over his slit.

"Fuck," Alastor moans as a few green sparks of static sink into the grass.

You debated using your mouth, but to be honest, you didn't know what to do with it, but your hips? You knew how to use those.

Alastor’s head rolled back at the sight of you tugging your dress above your waist. With one hand firmly wrapped around his cock, you lined your clit up with his shaft and rolled your hips, timing it with the stroke of your hand.

Alastor made a noise halfway between a whimper and a moan that made you roll your hips again.

If you knew all it took to take down the infamous Radio Demon was the roll of your hips, you’d have had this man begging on his knees weeks ago. Oh, there is definitely more than one way accrue power and you had just found it.

“Beg,” you command, referring to all those times Alastor made you crave him, desperate for him to be inside you, hopeless for release.

The demon’s head shot up as if he didn’t hear you correctly, but you silenced any protest he would have made with another stroke and another grind of your clit into his shaft.

“Fuck,” he groaned again.

“Come on now, Mr. Alastor, where are your manners?” You pouted, drawing his attention to your lips. You licked them, if only to incite more annoyance with your demand.

Alastor growled, showing off his canines like an alpha male ready to pounce, but the demon wasn’t giving in just yet.

So you decided to up the anty.

Scooting back, you leaned down and ran your tongue across the head, lapping up the pre-cum leaking from the top. Alastor gasped, his hands instinctively knotting in your hair.

“Ah, uh, uh,” you tutted, pulling away. You leaned over his belly, stroking his cock as you intentionally brought it closer to your cleavage. Alastor’s eyes practically bugged out of his head at the sight.

You weren’t wearing a bra either and from this angle, Alastor had full view of your cleavage and breasts as you stroked again.

“What will it be, Mr. Alastor?” You kissed his lower belly, following a trail up to his neck before seating yourself atop his waist once more.

You stroked as you sat there, waiting for the demon to find enough sense - and enough air, was he even breathing? - to respond to your demand.

But oh, it was practically killing him to do so. Alastor had never begged for anything in his life.

“Please,” he moaned as you stroked, the demon completely disheveled beneath your. “Please, darling.”

Aww, how cute.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his nose, “Only because you asked nicely.”

You lined him up and gasped as you sank down to the hilt.

“Fuck, Alastor!”

The demon shot up and captured your moans with his mouth, his one hand helping to guide your hips as you slowly lifted up and came back down. With his other he palmed your breast and pinched your nipple through the red fabric causing you to yelp. Alastor continued to let you take the lead, his actions but mere assistance as you bounced up and down on his cock.

Using his antlers as leverage, you opted for hard rather than fast - knowing that’s how Alastor liked it. And with every bounce of your hips, the demon grew thicker and thicker inside you.

Alastor’s groans turned into full on moans, the most vocal you had ever heard the demon. And as your walls twitched, your climax building, you felt Alastor growing closer and closer to his own.

“I’m afraid I’m not going to last much longer, darling,” Alastor breathed.

“Good,” you smiled against his mouth. “I want you to cum.”

“Fuck,” the demon moaned.

“Cum in me Alastor,” you demanded, your hips moving faster and faster.

Alastor grabbed your hips then, his claws sinking into your flesh as he slams you down onto him harm. Sheathed to the hilt, his head bruising your cervix as he spilled inside of you with a low guttural grunt.

It was enough to send you into your own orgasm, your own personal high as the demon spilled inside of you.

You breathed heavily as your body rode the tingling aftershocks. Collapsing into Alastor, your head rested on his shoulder as the two of you sat there surrounded in a sea of green stars, your wings limp behind you.

It wouldn’t become apparent to you then, but about ten feet in every direction, with the two of you at the center, was a circle of scorched earth. You hadn’t burned down the Bayou but you had lit it on fire at some point.

And yet, the two of you did no harm to each other.

“Mon couer,” Alastor cooed as he ran a hand through your hair. “My heart,” he whispered. “Mine.”

The two of you sat there for a long moment, just drinking each other in, before continuing on with a long night of drinking, eating, laughing, and genuinely just being happy for the first time in your lives. You talked of jazz and radio, of Heaven and your life on the run with Eve. You talked of everything and nothing. You talked well past the point of exhaustion, never wanting the night to end.

And you savored every moment of it, for you had gotten good at recognizing the good times when you were in them, but knew they always had to come to an end eventually…

Awww, so cute. What could go wrong? *cough* foreshadowing *cough*

Possible alternate endings???? I'm indecisive AF

-> Chapter Seventeen

Tagged Hoteliers (Let me know if you wish to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @mommymilkers0526 @goyablogsstuff

@eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick

@cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @saw1987

@mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah

@diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta

@reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages

@chibistar45

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hey there! Is t possible for a Hobie X f!reader who tends to ramble about the most random things?

I find myself blurting the most random shit ever and wonder how it'd be like with Hobie! Ty!

Rambling

I do this all the time tbh..

“Hobieee.” You sung, while you both were in the middle of trying to go to sleep.

"Yeah?” He asked, voice raspy and eyes still closed.

Hobie loved your rambling, he really did. But not while he was trying to sleep, and he was exhausted. But he also just enjoyed hearing your voice so he didn’t say anything about it.

“I love you. You know, something really great happened today. I was walking around and I saw…. People. Yup I saw people. And those people i dunno.. they were just like so… peopley.. you know what I mean?”

“So.. you woke me up to tell me that you saw people?”

“And that I loved you.” You added.

“That’s great, I love you too.” He laughed quietly, and quickly nodded back off to sleep in seconds.

————————————————————————

Hobie webbed the man, and punched him in the face. You looked up at Hobie and waited for him on the sidewalk.

“I’m so glad that my amazing boyfriend is spiderman.” You told him when he walked back up to you.

“Why’s that, love?”

“Because.” You shrugged. “It’s sexy and you can always save me if anything happens.” You shrugged, putting your hands in the jacket that Hobie gave to you.

“And you’ve saved me like a billion times. And it’s hot, did I mention that it’s sexy? And you’re literally the coolest ever.”

He laughed at that, and under the mask smiled.

“Well, I’d love to keep talking but I gotta go to HQ.” He said, making sure no one was around and pulling up his mask. You kissed him and he grabbed your waist and kissed you back.

When you both pulled away you smiled.

“Alright, go do your spiderman stuff.” You kissed his cheek again. He pulled down his mask, and winked at you.

“I’ll see you later, love.” And opened a portal, leaving to HQ.

——————

Tag list: @enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorrxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo

[tinydefector]

Hello Tiny, I hope you are doing fine and well. I wanted to thank you for all your writing, it is so engaging to read.

I don't have any request, but I do have a scenario regarding Tarn and his human parenting moments.

The twins are trying to say their first words, one of them babbling "Da... Da". Both parents looking with adoration, and finaly listen "Damush".

Tarn is perplexed, his human is just about to explain they tell the twins little stories using his previous names, until the other sparkling speaks out loud "Gluiitch!".

Tarn is petrified, his partner doesn't need to see beyond his mask to notice Tarns jaw drop expression.

Minutes later both sparklings look at their human parent, speaking out "Par-Par". Both parents responsing with "Awwwww".

Thank you again for your incredible writing and drawings. If you got the time to read this, I just wanted to tell you, you are an extrordinary and talented person.

Omg Aurox, that sounds. God damn cute. But like can you imagine the panic. But also when you think about how cybertronians hand their own dialects and sparklings also are rather well versed in the 'chitter' talk which works off cybertronian fields outside of their races different languages.

I can see Tarn being rather used to them using the chitter glyphs for him which don't really shock him but the moment your potential baby that is being raised an essentially a bilingual family calls you by your name in Cybertronian or much less a human language out loud it has a rather big shock value to it. But even more so if he hasn't told them those names and his lover hasn't but they have access to parts of his memory's from data transfers from when they were still being carried by their 'carrier'.

The true horror when Tarn realises 'frag my Sparklings can access key memories from my past!'

And then, on the other hand, his human lover just thinks its their babies trying to learn words and mix cybertronian up with their own language. But the first time they get called Par-Par makes them nearly weep in delight. They are just blissfully unaware of the fact their bitlets have eventually become part of Tarns worst nightmare, and his only hope is as they grow older, the memory access fades as they begin filing and saving their own.

(Loge the idea of Tarn peaceful living his life where no one remembers or knows his past, then his kids give him the big innocent eyes of. 'I know your secrets'

________

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

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[hananoami]

˗ˏˋ ♡ 𝓪𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝓵𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝓾𝒑 𝗐/ 𝓢𝒚𝒍𝒖𝒔 ♡ ˎˊ˗

I know it's only been three days since v2.0 -- Opposing Visions -- began, but I've already raised my affinity level with SYLUS by a substantial amount thanks to all the new memories that were added into the wish pool and resources that I've been saving. I unlocked his companion on July 15th and since then we went from affinity level 1 Crush to level 50 Lover status! As of writing this I am now half way to done to reaching his Devotion level. Only 50 more levels to go before that ring is mine... A lot of those affinity points came from obtaining and leveling most of his new memories. You also earn points for doing things for the first time with him. I would go into detail, but it might be easier for me to just say there's whole list that you can easily access in game under [With Him > Memos] that reward you with 500 exp per. Not to mention listening to all of his audio stories in By Your Side and Falling For you as well as reading his Anecdotes, Land of the Lost. Forgive me for the mega thread that is going to happen... I'm not entirely sure how I want to go about this. I generally try to take a screenshot of each level up notification as a personal keepsake with the love interest, but Sylus has at least 50 screenshots. Each affinity level unlocks something new and there were even some collectibles that came with special notes. I guess I'll just go in order an recap as many levels as tumblr will allow me to upload in a post. The main post, this one, features a screenshot of the first time I've started gaining affinity points after I unlocked him in Main Story [Long Awaited Revelry] 1-8. The second screenshot is my current affinity level. I will elaborate more on their respective rewards unlocked in later threads to make it easier to follow along with. I am aware that there are hunters who do not wish to see spoilers. While it is not story related, his affinity levels and rewards are new so I will be tagging my post with spoiler warnings. If you wish to avoid them please mute and block the following: #love and deepspace 2.0 #love and deepspace spoilers #lnds spoilers

[raz-writes-the-thing]

In It For The Long Haul (Doctor Who)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Almost dying repeatedly will wear anyone down eventually, and you're not sure how much more of this you can take.

CW: anxiety, nail picking, angst, comfort, sprinkle of fluff

DW tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Spending day after day with the Doctor could be incredibly easy. Travels throughout time and space, meeting aliens, seeing new planets and visiting markets and things. Those were the easy days. The soft days. The hard days, well, they almost broke you sometimes. 

The hard days were filled with kidnappings, murders, weeping mothers and danger lurking around any and all corners. You never knew what monster was going to pop out of what closet, or whether you were going to meet your end that day. And eventually, as that sort of thing would do to a person, it wore you down. 

Today, well, you weren’t sure you were going to make it. The Doctor was so used to this kind of thing day in and day out that you supposed he didn’t need to process it the same way you did, and the more you needed to press your memories back and bottle it all up, the more that tight ball of anxiety grew inside you, threatening to burst out and take you with it. 

The Doctor held his psychic paper in his hand, slapping it against the other thoughtfully. He’d received another message. Someone else who needed help. You wanted to help them. You really did. And you wanted to be there with the Doctor- side by side as you saved people and kicked alien ass. However, at the same time, the two of you had faced down at least three, maybe four, terrifying potentially fatal situations this week alone and, well, you were getting close to your breaking point. 

You were tired and overwhelmed.

You could tell just by looking at the Doctor that he was gearing up for an adventure. It was really horrible of you to think, but, well… if they were suffering and asking for help at a specific point in time- you could always wait a while and travel back to that point later. The caller would never know. You weren’t talking years or anything, just a few days. Even just a day.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, you regretted it. You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, causing you to lean back against the TARDIS wall and sigh defeatedly. She seemed to hum from behind you, trying to give you a little comfort. Oh, you needed a vacation. And not a vacation where as soon as you get there the Doctor finds some alien threat to investigate or some bomb to diffuse. A real, honest-to-God vacation. Or you’d be the bomb the Doctor had to diffuse. 

“What do you think, eh? Up for another adventure?” The Doctor finally turned to you, a massive grin spread on his face. Upon seeing whatever expression was plastered on your own, his brows dropped down into concern. He hummed and within seconds had bounded over to where you were standing in the corner. “What’s wrong, love? Was it the crab? I never trust the crab from Sigfried Xena. Bit too… purple for me.” 

You let out a chuckle despite yourself. No matter what mood you were in, the Doctor always made you laugh. Whether it was intentional half the time was up for debate, but still. He made you laugh all the same. 

“It’s- it wasn’t the crab,” you say, biting your lip anxiously, looking at the tops of your shoes. The Doctor’s warm hand is suddenly over your own, and you realise that you’d been picking at your nails. A habit you’d formed when stressed or anxious. You were pretty sure that’s why you let them grow out sometimes. A steadying sigh leaves your lungs and you risk a look back up to the Doctor. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked pointedly, giving you one of those arched brow looks that always pulls you out of your shell.

“I don’t think I can do this.” The admission is so quiet you could barely hear it yourself. But the Doctor heard it. Of course, he does. 

“Do what?” 

You can tell he’s fighting the urge to say something to make you laugh. He can see you need to get this off your chest. 

“I don’t think I can go off on another dangerous adventure,” you breathe. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but, I’m- I can-” you let out a frustrated groan as the words refuse to form for you. The Doctor’s eyes are flitting between yours as if he understands perfectly and doesn’t understand a word at the same time. Then again, you were pretty sure that was just his permanent state of being anyway. 

“I almost died this week,” you say exasperatedly, feeling around the words and forcing them out. “Four times. And not in a cute oh-yeah-that-maths-homework-almost-killed-me kind of way. I almost actually died, Doctor. Four times. This week alone.” You knew he knew this, but you couldn’t regenerate. One bad shot from a gun, or a Dalek’s laser and it was game over for you. 

Being put in these situations over and over were starting to wear you down. The almost constant fear was starting to grate against your insides like sandpaper. 

The Doctor hummed for a second. You were almost certain this had been the most quiet he’d ever been. It was concerning. 

“I can’t leave whoever this is- they need help,” the Doctor said eventually, choosing his words. “I know you’re not asking me to stand by and let them suffer, but I can’t leave them. It’s not who I am.” 

You nodded, fingers grasping around the hand he has on yours so you didn’t start with your nails again. 

“How about this?” The Doctor says, using his free hand to raise your gaze back to him by your chin. “You can come, or you can sit this one out. The TARDIS will keep you company while I’m gone- and then when I get back, I’ll take you home.” 

You start to interrupt, but the look he gives you tells you to let him finish. 

“We can visit your family- oh, I dunno- have dinner or something, and then you can either come with me to the next great adventure, or you can stay. I won’t be upset.” You know this is a lie. Of course, he’d be upset. “Well, I’ll understand,” he corrects. 

You chew on your lip, peering into his eyes as if you’ll finally be able to decipher the thoughts going on behind them there. 

“One condition,” you say after a few moments, settling on a decision. “You take me dancing first- after the problem is dealt with that is,” you tack on quickly, waving at the psychic paper. 

“And I’m coming with you to help whoever that is. I might be overwhelmed, but I can’t stand by either.”

“Oh, yes,” he says softly, stretching back into that grin that melts hearts. “I think I can manage that.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, grasps one of your hands in his, and puts his other around your waist. You giggle freely as he leads you both back to the console of the TARDIS and lets go with an almost giggle of his own. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I love dancing. Brilliant stuff, that is. Good for the soul. Alright, then,” he looks positively giddy, rubbing his hands together. “First stop Earth- 1746.” He starts booting the TARDIS up and organising the coordinates.

“Allons-y!” 

[amiizuki]

it will be forever funny to me how the flashback portraits of Wittebrothers made Caleb seem like he's had packing peanuts for a brain

(this post ended up becoming quite lengthy, and so did the tags somehow, because I kinda devolved into a rant closer to the end of writing this whole thing, so bear with me here)

so we know that Philip and Caleb became orphans when both of them were still kids. after that, they ended up in Gravesfield and, to fit in with everyone else who lived there, picked up witch hunting and started thinking that witches are pure evil. Caleb knew perfectly well that he's the only family Philip's had left and that he even may be his his only friend, since, judging by the portraits, they've only ever hung out with each other and we don't know if those two ever made any other actual friends.

until one day, during a witch hunt he and Philip were both a part in (something Caleb seemed happy to do, judging by his smirk there), he met a witch – Evelyn – someone he's been taught to hate and want dead by the townsfolk. someone who, again, in his mind, should be evil.

but he just suddenly does a 180 and goes "damn, you can make fire with your hands, you're actually pretty cool"

and then a few days (?) of talking to her later, he's running off to live with her in the Demon Realm, while simultaneously not giving a single fuck about the brother he's abandoning.

(he even runs off with a smile, with a literal :D face, I fucking can't lmao)

Philip ends up seeing Caleb get dragged off through a weird portal and later follows along, thinking something like "no, my brother wouldn't just up and abandon me without saying anything. he probably got captured by that witch we saw together that one time! she probably used some demon magic to bewitch Caleb and took him through that portal to kill him or worse! I gotta go save him!". and, after spending god knows how long in that realm, searching endlessly for his missing older brother, he eventually finds him. but he also finds that Caleb is not only perfectly okay and not hurt in the slightest, he's also peacefully walking together with the same witch who "captured" him, even holding hands with her.

and when enraged Philip tries to attack Evelyn, to protect Caleb from the witch who took him from his home, from his brother, still thinking that Caleb's under her control, Caleb just... gives him a hug and goes on to introduce the witch as his new wife to him (I'm assuming that portrait is the same day as the other three, if not the same scene), also adding on top of that that they're having a child. all as if nothing happened. treating the whole thing like everything's perfectly okay and just another normal day, fully ignoring the fact that he threw his brother away with no care or thought, leaving him completely alone, a full orphan, now with zero actual family left (in TTT, during their backstory, it's said that "Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother", meaning that either they never got adopted in Gravesfield, or whoever adopted them didn't give a shit about the two, so they still mostly had to fend for themselves), all to go smash some random 5 out of 10 witchussy he talked to, like, 3 times. no fucking wonder Philip killed him!

(btw, jokes aside, it didn't seem like he intended to kill Caleb, because in that portrait where he's ready to kill with a knife in his hand, he's facing forward, while Caleb is actually to his left. so it just looks to me like Philip was gonna try to kill Evelyn again, and Caleb either jumped in front of her to protect her and got accidentally stabbed or he attacked Philip back, to, again, protect Evelyn, and Philip ended up winning that fight. but that's just my theory)

my brother in literal christ and literal titan – why in the FUCK are you just hugging it out with a smile on your face??? you ran off while giving absolutely no warning to anyone, especially your younger brother! why do you think he's here and actively trying to attack you and your new wife? you're not even trying to address the fact that you left him! at least when Luz ran off to a different realm without warning, she had a "I'm still at the camp" cover, so Camila wouldn't worry that much about where her daughter is, and even then she still felt bad for leaving her mother and planned to go back home once summer was over. this chucklefuck, on the other hand, just permanently portaled away to the Boiling Isles, knocked up a witch and fully settled down there, walking around with a big ol' smile and no care in the world. "Philip who? never heard of him"

the only thing that would sorta make this situation seem better (as in, not make Caleb seem like an overly naive ignorant brick), in my opinion, is if they added one more portrait – after the one where he meets the witch, but before the one where he leaves. in that portrait, Caleb would look like he's trying his best to convince Philip that witches aren't actually evil, and perhaps even try to get him to go live with them in the Demon Realm, all the while Philip's looking at him with either disagreement/disappointment/disgust or just rolling his eyes and full on ignoring him, while sharpening his witch hunt tools or something. then it would look like Caleb at least tried to make his brother change his mind, like he tried to offer him a chance to go with them. but no. with the way the portraits look in the final version it just seems like Caleb was fully on-board with killing witches since he was young, even pulling his younger brother along to think the same way, Philip also thought that Caleb was perfectly fine with killing witches, but once he actually meets a real witch (assuming they've never met one before) he instantly pulls an uno reverse card and just runs off with her, without so much as telling his brother beforehand.

I'm not trying to say that "Belos should've been redeemed, because he's the victim here and Caleb is bad and it's all his fault". he still murdered his brother and went on to manipulate everyone on Boiling Isles for centuries, with his end goal being the death of all witches, while simultaneously being stuck in the loop of "denial" and "bargaining" stages of grief – repeatedly trying and failing to recreate a perfect copy of Caleb, but also killing each one that came out wrong or went against him. Belos not being redeemed in the end was the right choice (ignoring the "Belos was always le bad" from King's dad), I agree with that. frankly, if he actually got redeemed in the end, I'd probably be seething for the next 3 to 5 years, like how I did after the Diamonds' "redemptions" in SU (yes I'm still pissed about that lol). I'm just saying that, from what was shown to us, Caleb didn't seem like that good of a person either, not as bad as Belos ended up being, but still not that great. and, once again, seemingly had a raisin for a brain.

(off topic, but during Masha's retelling of Wittebane's backstory, their "sounds like big bro got a hot witch girlfriend and little bro got upset" line was so fucking cringe, it gave me a fever for 3 days the first time I watched the episode)

k, rant over, I dunno what else to add

TL;DR: I think Caleb was dumb as a brick, because, from what was shown to us in their backstory, he seemed to have run off to Demon Realm and abandon Philip without telling him anything beforehand. when Philip came to BI to look for his brother, who he assumed was under control of the witch who "took" him, since he thought his last living family member wouldn't just abandon him, and when he eventually found him, and it turned out he wasn't in any danger at all, Caleb just brushed the whole "I left you for witchussy" thing under the rug and pretended everything was and is perfectly fine, even though it clearly isn't. rip bozo

[jojo-oliver]

How to tumblr for artists… my own version

A collection of things that have been working for me, but may not work for everyone

~~~ your posts ~~~

!!!reblog your own stuff!!! you need to reblog your own stuff, there is nothing morally wrong with reblogging your own stuff regularly. in fact, it is morally right to allow the chance for more people to see your artwork.

~~~ queue it!! ~~~ my queue is 500 posts strong. maybe don't try to make your queue hundreds of posts strong in the same day omg but like… once every month or two i'll go through my whole blog and just scroll and "add to drafts" to every one of my own posts i have. then i'll use the "mass post editor" to add content warning tags. and add to queue, and shuffle. and then I write down what the date was for when I last added my posts to be reblogged on queue. this is helped by turning on timestamps for posts in tumblr "dashboard preferences" settings.

queueing is necessary and life saving for me. It takes out so much work with decision fatigue and the anxiety around posting. It also guarantees that even if I suddenly need time off or away from my phone, I don't just disappear and lose all traction. It also breaks the instant-gratification cycle that you expect when you finish an artwork. It's hard to keep creating when you post something and, when you're expecting to get that gratification, you get none... If you queue your new artwork to come out at a later time, you've separated that expectation - with time. It hurts less and contributes to a more consistent gratification thing instead of peaks and troughs.

~~~ tag ya stuff ~~~ when you're making a new post, the first 20 tags are what gets put into the searchable tags. do not feel shame for using lots of tags. shame is the mind-killer. tags are hard. hard to know what to tag a post with. hard to remember the tags. so I found some ways to help myself. maybe they'll help you too. dedicate some time towards just figuring out what tags you want to use. i have a list in my phone notes that i add tags to and reference whenever i'm making a new post. i have the phone right beside the laptop while i'm tagging so that i can just look at it and scroll. tags are the only way for people to find your artwork, other than people manually coming to your blog because they saw you somewhere. there is no algorithm. posting without tags, until you have an established fanbase, is throwing something into the void.

When I'm doing tag research, I look at what people seem to use - when you put something in the search bar, tumblr recommends you some that have a higher following, typically. Looks like this on desktop:

if you like one tag, look at what other people who use that tag also tag their posts with. Observe and learn how this tag is used. search through a bunch of them and write them down.

here's what i got in my notes, for the specific kind of art I post and look for:

these tags are sort of specific to me and the kind of art I make. You'll want to research your own tags, but this is an example of how I keep them organized to make posting more effective. I generally only write down a tag when it's got more than 2k followers. You might be tempted to use the tags with millions of followers, but I've actually found those a lot less functional for small artists. If your stuff doesn't immediately get a bunch of notifications, you're drowned out and pushed to the bottom much faster. But the bigger tags are better than no tags, so I keep them if I can't think of anything else to tag something with.

~~~ post at the right times….? ~~~

fridays and saturdays is when I post fresh new things... usually. every website has it's own peak hours, and you can find those hours in many different online articles that try to sell you social media growth services. tumblr is unique in having later hours.

here's some random graph from google images:

please don't over think this. please don't let this consume the idea of when to post, preventing you from posting at all. it doesn't mean too much - if you post during very active hours, maybe your art would just be pushed down the feed faster. if you post at the end of hours, maybe everyone's going to sleep… if you post at inactive hours, maybe there's less 'competition'… if you post at the beginning of active hours, maybe that's just more time for your post to circulate for the day, if you have enough people reblogging it once it drops....

this also is in EST. So fuck the other time zones, I guess. I'm over here in europe knowing that the "best" time to post would be like 2-3am or something. It's like this for most english-speaking majority sites - higher traffic in north american time zones.

it's also worth mentioning that this is scattered as heck, compared to other social media sites. and it's not like, the activity times of your followers. it's not the best time to post for your niche. this is just tumblr, broadly. all of tumblr.

~~~ Plan ahead for annual dates ~~~

Your artwork will get more circulation if it's posted on a celebratory day. You could just put them on your calendar and if you're wondering what to make, look on the calendar for what's coming soon. For example, asexual awareness day, trans day of visibility, location-specific holidays, etc. Here's my phone notes thing with my own recorded annuals:

I got these dates from googling and reading different articles, but I find that I still miss dates, and then I add them for next year. If you know of some I missed, tell me and I'll add them please <3

~~~ reblog other people's stuff ~~~

tumblr is sorta about ecosystems. things get passed around within groups of people that are all following eachother. to enter this ecosystem, you must engage and reblog other people's stuff too.

if you reblog other artists' stuff, sometimes they'll come over and reblog your stuff too. sometimes they'll follow you back. this is called becoming a mutual. I'll search specific tags for the kinds of people I want to follow and the kind of art I like - those are listed in the screenshot of my tag note under "Tags for finding new people".

I see a lot of blogs out there that are very clean, posts are tagless, and are only for the artists' content. like scrolling through a portfolio. I imagine this is good for people who are migrating to tumblr but already have their own established fanbase from elsewhere.

you don't need to do reblog other people's stuff on your art blog, you can do this on a separate blog. but if the two don't look very closely correlated, it's hard to tell who you are when you're interacting. and hard to make sure people know that you are the same person as your art blog. and you gotta remember to promote yourself on your personal blog.

~~~ have an art tag ~~~

make your blog easy to search!

if i go to your blog, and you've written 'artist' or 'sometimes art' in your bio, i wanna see it… it make me so sad when i don't get to see it. i want to reblog it. please let me reblog it :(

to make a tag on your own blog searchable, you don't need to repost it to add a tag. you don't even need to reblog it. you can actually just go back to the original post and edit it to add your tag. I've seen post people just have their art tag be something like #(blogname)art . you can see my own in my tags image above. if it's very unique, then it'll work tumblr-wide. I think that's good, since the tumblr search function is really weird. Otherwise it should still work if it's not entirely unique, people just have to make sure they're searching specifically your blog to see only your stuff.

I like to have a link in my pinned post where people can click to have immediately searched for my art tag. Convenience is king. Keep in mind that most people are on mobile, and if something isn't immediately clickable, they often won't find it.

~~~ be consistent and be patient ~~~

!!!this time will pass anyway!!! how many notes you have is not correlated with how good you are as an artist. wanting to earn something from your art means you essentially have two jobs. two potentially full time jobs. this shit's difficult. most of the job is promoting yourself. don't undersell how hard it is to do… don't feel bad for not immediately succeeding. I would write about how hard it's been to promote myself, but it would just be long and sad I think.

This isn't a full guide, please feel free to add more!!

I'm sure in another year I'll disagree with a lot of this, it will become irrelevant with time, and I'll have a lot of different opinions. Chip in and share what you've been doing? Teach me? This is very overwhelming. Don't do it all at once, just like, try one thing at a time, and see how it works for you. Your niche might be different. One size does not fit all. If you're confused about some of the things I talk about in here, you might be on mobile. I do most of my queueing and posting from the desktop browser version.

I will update this with more as things change, but I think you'll have to click through to see the updated post

[theaspen]

summary : Jay seems to keep appearing in your alternate nightmares. He acts as your night in shining armor, always helping you in your sleep. But when you try to stop the nightmares altogether he doesn't like it.

Genre : Thriller, angst.

pairing : Jay x you

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of blood, death and suicide. If you are sensitive to these subjects please don't read!!

___________________________________________

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

____________________________________________

Authors note: It's honestly SO embarrassing that I'm posting this now LMAOAOAOA.

Uhm. I'm sorry. I hope you guys enjoy and leave some nice comments or feedback or anything tbh. And send me an ask, or comment below to be added to the tag list.

____________________________________________

Are you sure?” My uncle asks sceptically.

“Yes I'm sure.” I tell him firmly. 

This is the 10th time he's asked me this question today alone. What's a therapist gonna do? Besides, I'm sick of him pretending to care. 

“Uncle, I'm not really sure why you're so insistent on this. Is it because the press is outside? They want to interview you?”

It's a sharp dig at him and I know it. He's never cared about his own brother, never visited.

He scowls at me, “Careful, might I have to remind you that it isn't your father that's taking care of you, putting you in the best room with the best doctors.”

I glare at him as he walks away from the room. Well atleast the pathetic nice act is gone. 

Kyungsoo enters my room soon again, throwing a careful glance at my uncle. He was a big shot after all. With his more than successful firm.

“You good?” He asks.

“Yeah, um I think I'll just go for a walk.” I tell him rather shortly.

“Sure.” He says quietly, probably assuming I had an argument.

But truth be told, I'm avoiding him. I'm getting attached to someone who's just tolerating me for their job. It's not his fault I know but I can't get attached to those who won't stay once I'm up and gone. 

My mind goes to Jay for a tiny second. Hm. Maybe I should talk to a therapist. The dreams stopped for two days and usually I would be overjoyed at the idea of not just one but two full nights rest.

But I woke up feeling uneasy, I made a promise to Jay, someone who exists only in my head. But I made a promise nevertheless. 

There are so many things I want to ask him, so many. 

Why do I have no dreams? Why is it that I only ever have a blackout or nightmares?

Why is he saving me? 

I know I shouldn't, but my curiosity has gotten the better of me. I look down at my fisted hands and open them. There are two sleeping pills, I stole it from a nurse's bag when she wasn't looking. 

Sleeping pills and I aren't the best of friends. Sure they help me not have a meltdown from not being able to sleep for almost 20 hours but they also give me the worst types of nightmares.   Which right now happens to be something that I need. 

“Goodnight.”Kyungsoo tries to smile at me.

I meekly smile back , eager to down the pills and meet the one person who actually wants me to stay.

_________________________________________

The pills go down my throat ten minutes later. The small light creates a shadow of me in front.  The shadows shift, turning and twisting and I watch fascinated as they give a performance for me. 

I'm not afraid, a part of my brain thinks. What are the shadows going to do? They've been with me forever. Taunting me, trying to manipulate me. I've never given into any of their tricks. I've never trusted them. 

But when I'm all alone now, in a tiny closet peeking out from the hole and watching the shadows linger my heart picks up its beat. 

They come and they disappear again and again. I look through the tiny peep the closet gives and realise soon as they go behind every nook and creek that they are looking for none other than me. 

 

My hands reach out to clasp my mouth shut. My body folds itself as small as it can possibly go. Will the shadows think to look here too?

I shut my eyes forcefully. My other senses heightened until I could feel everything around me. The musty smell of the closet, my fingernails digging into themselves.  My feet numb, paralyzed. 

My breathing becomes slower, my arms start to unclench. I think they're gone. I think I can get out now. Escape to a place where they can't catch me. 

Before I know it, before I can even pull my hands away from myself. There's a strange hiss that comes inches away from me. A hand grabs my ankle and pulls me hard enough that I don't have time to scream. 

My head bangs against the hard wooden doors as I'm being pulled away. The impact is so hard that I can only clutch my head and groan as the hands keep pulling me away, dragging me on the rough wooden floors.

The splinters catch on clothes and skin. My chin is bleeding, but I can't even stop. Can't even catch a hold of myself as I try to catch myself breathlessly.  

There's a sharp turn to the right, and that's when I know that the shadows aren't just pulling me along aimlessly , they have a destination in mind. 

My eyes scan around desperately trying to catch hold of something to stop. 

Just then, a hand- a solid, real and warm hand catches me. A sudden stop to the journey. 

I know who it is before I can even look up. I clasp my hands with his. The shadows aren't pleased, they hiss and linger around My ankles. 

But when his hand keeps tugging me in, the shadows start to dissolve, materialise into nothing, losing their power. 

Jay's hands pull me again, even when the shadows disappear, he doesn't let go and I don't either.

When I gain a little strength into my limbs I finally pull away from the embrace. I look into his eyes, they are wide and scared, maybe even more than mine.

“Thank yo-”

“Why didn't you come?? You made a promise and you leave me all alone here?!” Jay yells angrily.

I pull away completely.  I was happy to finally see him again, but seeing his bloodshot face. The look of absolute rage in his eyes makes me stop. Brings the familiar uneasy feeling back into my stomach. 

“I'm sorry.” I mumble.

Jay looks at my crestfallen face, and immediately his face softens. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was just scared you left forever.” He says softly, “You're hurt a lot this time. Come here, let's clean you up.” 

He rips off a piece of his sleeves and starts dabbing it on my wounds.

His reassuring words don't chase away the moths in my stomach. 

“Jay..do you think I should see a therapist?”

Jay frowns at my words, “A therapist? What's that?” He asks curiously. 

“Umm. It's someone who helps you with your problems, like stress, anxiety…nightmares.”

Jay stiffens upon that. His hand paused on my chin. 

“But why…? I can save you. I save you every time.”

I shake my head,

“I can save you again, you won't even have to get hurt next time. Just trust me. That's all you need to do!”

I take his hands in mine, his eyes are trembling, 

“What happens when you can't?”

“..what”

“What happens when one day you can't save me? I can wake up, but what about you? What if something happens to you instead?” 

He shakes his head intently, “I don't care, I only exist because of you. If you're gone, then I'm alone again, I have no purpose.”

I stay silent at that, avoiding his eyes. 

The world around me seems to shift again, faster than it did before. 

“I think I'm waking up now.”

“Yeah.”

“Can't you…can't you appear in my dreams too? Not just nightmares?”

“I don't know.”

I can feel my resolve slipping at the sight of his tired face. He looks my age, but at this moment his face seems to have gone through a millenia worth of sadness. 

“I'll come back okay?” 

Jay just nodded. His fingers slip away from mine as he watches me disappear again. I never stay for long. He wonders whether it's because I can't or I don't want to. 

Jay fidgets with his fingers even after I'm gone. 

He thinks long and hard about how he could make me stay. Every time I've left, it's only because he saved me.

What happens when he makes me believe that she can't escape the nightmare anymore? 

________________________________________

Taglist : @sunjaylove @ryejigyu @keikeu

@excusemeimquirky @lollllllliiiiiiiiiiiipop

[miyamiwu]

Reblogging is a form of self-expression

I’ve seen a lot of posts about how people aren’t reblogging much art anymore, with the authors encouraging people to reblog coz it helps support artists. But the thing about most of these posts is that they don’t really talk about how the likes-reblog gap isn’t just widening for art posts. It applies to other types of posts as well—be it short or long text posts, some edit you made, photos, etc.

I don’t have that much followers, but some of my posts have reached over 1k notes. (And some rare popular ones have reached 5-6 digits). I write a lot of metas both here and on one of my side blogs. I also make gifs occasionally, and I have lots of original posts in general too.

But in all of my posts, there are always more likes than reblogs, and the gap is often wide.

When I look through some of the blogs in the notes, several of them are empty but with their Likes visible. And if they’re not empty, then all their posts are just their own. No reblogs at all...

Many of those Likes vs Reblogs posts talk about how reblogging helps the original poster but make little to no explanation on how reblogging serves the reblogger. And I guess that’s why the likes-reblogs gap continues to widen. People are framing reblogs as free advertising for the OP when we should be framing reblogs for what it primarily is—a form of self-expression.

When you reblog something, it’s like saying...

You’re so excited about the post that you want others to see it

You agree with the idea/opinion being expressed in the post (opinions, discourse, analysis, etc.)

You care about the things said in the post (like sharing pro-Palestine posts)

You identify with the community being represented in the post (like being part of a certain fandom)

You find the post funny and want to save it (like how you’d save memes to your phone)

You think the post is cute and want to squish it (cat photos, animal videos, kawaii stuff, etc.)

Or you just think the post is going to be a popular one so you’re “investing” early

etc.

You can even expand these ways of expression by adding your own commentary through tags or reblogs. You can’t do that with just liking.

Actually, you don’t even need to have a clear reason for reblogging something. Posts can simply be like stickers or stamps, which you collect to put on your scrapbook (your blog). Years later, you can then go through your archive and look back on how you were before at certain times in your life.

[To those who don’t know: Yes, we have an archive. It’s at username.tumblr.com/archive. You can filter posts by post type and by month/year of posting. Only posts/reblogs show up in the archive. Likes are not included.]

Moreover, reblogging is how you gain friends. Mutuals, after all, are two people who follow each other, and well, for someone to follow you, you must have something on your blog that they’d want to see more of. If you only like posts, then what’s there to see?

Original posts are nice, of course, but when I see a blog where all posts are just their own, I’m immediately given the impression that it’s being run by a brand. And it may be that the blog really is trying to maintain its Brand image—such is the case for side blogs dedicated to a certain topic (like poll tournaments or art-only blogs). But even then, people will expect you to have a Main blog or another side blog where you do reblog stuff.

It’s kind of how we know you’re human. And it’s also how we know that you’re open to actually engaging with others on this site.

A blog that’s empty or contains nothing but their own posts sends out the message that you’re not interested in or just don’t care about what other people are saying.

[heywriters]

how to make a tumblr post (and get notes!)

Have never seen any post discuss these exact things, so i'm sharing my insights with y'all*

Use images. They don't have to be good or spectacular like this extremely coherent thing I just made. They just need to catch the eye break up dashboard monotony.

The gif search feature is an unreliable wild card at best and a NSFW eye gouge at worst, but it gives credit to the op of the gif

If you're an artist your whole post is your images, so skip to the links and tags section of this post because the rest won't help much.

-> Image Descriptions

When making a post that contains images, hover over an image and click the meatballs icon in the lower right corner of the image. Click "update description" to add a description. It isn't always necessary, but it is very courteous for a variety of accessibility reasons.

-> Text

Break up your text. Run-on sentences are standard here, lack of punctuation too, you can really do whatever you want, but avoid massive blocks of text. unless you've got a really incendiary opening line and the entire center of that granite chunk of text is actually comedy gold, hard-hitting tumblr journalism, or one of those zany confessional posts that can be followed up by the drive thru meme

break up

your text.

and go light on the ALL CAPS. save it for emphasis or when you're feeling very unhinged or saRcAStiC y'know how that goes, i don't need to explain it. this site has a very dry tone to its posts so caps are rare. also periods

Bullet points and numbered posts are good and fine. The "Chat" post option is used less often these days, but different groups found uses for it so it sticks around.

Titles Matter

they help break up text and put people at ease. they are best for informative, mature posts but can make you look like a square in more relaxed conversations. sometimes they are also great for emphasis in a comedic sh*tpost (censorship is entirely up to you, btw. you don't have to censor much on tumblr except titties and genitals).

Tumblr automatically shortens long posts now, but etiquette asks that you tag #long post if you want to avoid clogging up someone's dash. It don't matter too much though, this is the "color of the sky" site, so get used to posts being too long

That being said "READ MORE" is a fantastic feature. Use it when you want some level of privacy like "hey, only click below if you want to hear about my problems" or "click below to read my 18+ fanfic." Read more is also great in case you want to delete something forever. If a reblogged post has a read more, but op deleted the og post, that content is gone (readmore has to be on the og post at time of posting for this to work, btw; edits to og post do not span all reblogs)

the other bells and whistles like colored font or italics are helpful in improving text, but we don't really rely on them. every mode of looking at this site alters those aspects somehow so we often ignore them

-> Links

Hint: People don't want to click links. We don't know where they're taking us. Most of us are on our phone and don't want to open another tab or leave the app to go on the browser. We're cozy here on Tumblr and do not wish to be whisked away (unless it's a rickroll)

Don't leave the link thumbnail to do all the work, like so

add a little sneak peak info, maybe your favorite line from the article or a reason why it's important for people to know the info on the other side of that link. Sell it!

When you're adding a link into a list, i.e. no large thumbnail just a line of text leading you to another site, try not to copy/paste the link as is

"https://......"

No one wants to click on that it's gross and scary. It's screams "meh, i'll click later if i feel like it." If the build up to the link is too good to resist ("if you want to save the orphaned puppies here's the link") then that http mess is sufficient.

Otherwise, dress your links up a little by including the title or a description of what the link goes to:

Or, if it's an informal post where you're just popping info in to back up whatever insane thing you just said, just write something like "link here" or "(x)" and hyperlink it.

-> Tags

artists, writers, and other creators: leave a tag on your creative content that makes it easy for blog visitors to see it all at once. e.g. "My work" and we click on that while on your blog and see only your works

You can have up to thirty tags on any post. All will make your post show up in searches and followed tags (it used to be only the first five tags that got you traction). However,

Please. Do not tag everything you can possibly imagine being relevant to your post because

It's called tag spam and it's against TOS

Everyone here hates that

No one is going to check all those tags ever. Someone might search one five years from now and accidentally find your post hanging out in the ether and they'll still ignore it.

Your imagination is wicked tiny because I guarantee the perfect tag is going to be something indecipherable and seemingly niche.

Follow popular tags (or at least be aware of them)

If yours is an off-the-cuff post and you don't have time to find out what a niche group is into then wing it, sure, idc. this is also the shitposting site do whatever you want

Don't put your hate in the fan tags. This is the unapologetically-like-dumb-things site and your negativity is not wanted. You can still complain, just avoid tagging to get the attention of the fans of whatever you're complaining about. That enables pvp and even nonfans will know you deserve the backlash

-> Audio & Video

clickable by nature because we all love noise and moving images so there's no special way to share posts like this. just post them with good tags and maybe a one-liner, and they'll sell themselves

Tip: it's nice to add descriptions to these too but it isn't common

Protip: if the audio is the best part of the video (e.g. a baby burps REALLY loudly and it's hilarious) please caption or tag "Unmute!"

-> mkay bye

that's all i can think of right now. will update later if i remember something

---

*this is year eleven of my time on tumbles and i studied marketing in college for like six of those years and have been applying that bupkis to tumblr ever since. every post i see that gets no traction and every lovely artist that goes nowhere on here bothers me so deeply and i sincerely want y'all to succeed <3 <3

+ If you find this helpful and want to support my blog, I have a ko-fi!

+ If you're concerned about my mental health from being on Tumblr so long and want to contribute to my "get better" fund, I have a ko-fi!

[mshroom1e]

Perfect | Azul x GN! Reader

May or may not be fully self-indulgent. Azul is just so heurkrhforif

type: fanfic

Summary: A short and sweet fic about Yuu comforting Azul about his insecurity.

628 words

tags: fluff

Warnings(s): theme of insecurity about weight

Azul stood in front of a mirror in his room, surveying two shirts, debating which one he should wear. You lazily rolled around in his bed, hugging one of his pillows while you watched him.

Recently, Azul had been worrying more and more about what clothes he wore. You weren't sure why, because you thought be looked stunning in everything and anything. Spending time with him was usually you listening to his rambles - he's had a lot on his mind lately.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, worried, "This one doesn't suit me as well as this one."

"Azul, the shirts literally look the same," you blinked, trying to see the differences he saw.

You rolled over again, managing to wrap yourself in one of his fuzzy, warm blankets. Picking up an octopus plushie, you held it over your head and smiled, the little stuffed toy reminding you of Azul standing in front of you.

"Honestly, I don't see what the problem is," you added.

Azul sighed, still looking at the shirts, "I've been surpassing my daily recommended caloric intake recently. It looks like I've gone a size larger again."

Ah.

So that's what it was.

After knowing Azul for a while, you learned about his childhood, mostly from the tweels and how round and cute he was as a kid. And from observing his eating habits and mannerisms when you spent time together, he definitely was one who worried - no, obsessed about how much he ate. When you brought snacks over on some days, he'd only eat one or two pieces before claiming he was no longer hungry or saying he'd save it for later.

When you confessed your feelings to him, much to his surprise, and started dating, Azul noticeably became more conscious about his appearance and started measuring himself almost religiously. You told him countless times that he had nothing to worry about- he was at a healthy size and he really didn't need to lose any more weight. Despite your constant reassurance, he was still one to worry.

Having had enough, you stood up and walked over to Azul without him knowing. He was too focused on worrying about what he was going to wear to notice you creeping up on him in his peripheral vision.

He mumbled words under his breath, furrowing his eyebrows. He would say, "I knew I shouldn't have eaten those cookies," or "They always go straight to my thighs," or "I'm getting squishy again..."

His body jolted when he felt your arms snake around his waist from behind him, your chest resting against his back, trapping his body in a back hug. The warmth from your body spread across his back and through his whole body, making him shudder slightly.

"Y-Yuu?"

"You know," You whispered right next to his ear, causing him to audibly squeak, "You're perfect just the way you are."

His body froze.

"My arms can fit around you snugly li~ke this," you gave him a gentle squeeze, "As long as you're happy and healthy, is there really a problem?"

You chuckled fondly at Azul. He was frozen in shock by the sudden ambush headed straight to his heart. He always worried about what you thought of him, so hearing you saying you believed he was already perfect meant the world to him. 

He let out a high pitched squeak when he felt you gently poke him in the stomach. He jumped back like a cat, eyes wide and a violent blush creeping up his neck.

"Gotcha~" you sang with a cheeky smile.

He stumbled over his words for a good 7 seconds before his voice cracked as he yelled, "Yuu!"

Azul spent the next 10 minutes chasing you around his room while you both erupted in fits of laughter.

[he-who-needs-to-be-silenced]

BIG PROJECT TIME

Welcome to Euramerica, a spec bio project set in the late early permian, right before Olson’s extinction. Euramerica is what happens when the titular continent never collides with gondwana during the late carboniferous, never forming pangea or atleast delaying it.

Rules:

By the way, not all submissions will get in, so dont get mad if yours dont get in. Dont worry, they can be canonized later, as like bones or a corpse during the extinction and maybe lead to more clades idk.

Please use the clades on the list, if theres anything you feel should be added, lemme know.

Entries should be submitted on Discord in the event-submissions channel (duh), or on tumblr, just make sure to tag it #Euramerica or you could just @ me in the post (@he-who-needs-to-be-silenced)

A human has to make the art (no ai you will be skinned), this can be a paper drawing, a clay sculpt, play doh, digital drawing, 3d models anything. You can even make it out of carrots.

I will be making 3 separate murals for the little northern island, name of Stephania

When submitting, these thing should be either on the image or the text you send:

Species name (scientific or common)(preferably scientific tbh but both is fine)

Clade

Habitat

Size

Ecology

Any little tidbits or behaviours youd like to headcanon

Here’s the discord if you wanna help me not search the internet: https://discord.gg/7Kz5T2v8

Edit: I realize now that i should probably but the google drive folder for those not on discord

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1B391zNM2wCw-LebF09bza9dr_bvaUOJa?usp=drive_link

Edit again: prob should put th deadline

You have until October 1st 2024 **6am (or till i wake up) Eastern Daylight Saving Time**