#escaped alfonso

[jacks347]

(As I continue to chip away at my next few projects, I figured y'all should see the original. Enjoy alternate ending Matador Gothic, my pride and joy. Oh, and the very end has symbolism explanation for those who want that extra knife twist)

“Step into the sun. How does it feel?” Alfonso felt like he was walking on air. Scythus was dead, his love was safe, he could breathe again. Everything was going to be okay. The woman he’d come to love took his hand and stepped into the sunlight next to him.

Then she winced.

His heart dropped.

“Bad. I-It feels like burning.” She dropped his hand and stepped back into the shade, rubbing the quickly blistering burns on her skin with a hiss of pain.

No. No no no no no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was supposed to have saved her. She was supposed to be fine. Why was she not fine.

“No no no, y-you’re joking.” He laughed, mainly out of rising hysteria. “This was supposed to work! You were supposed to be okay! I’m not supposed to lose you!!” His knees gave out from under him, crumpling to the ground. Alfonso could feel his heart shattering, splintering in his chest and stabbing at his lungs with every breath.

Delilah reached out to comfort him but snatched her hand back before it crossed into the sunlight. “Alfonso, my love…” She trailed off, unable to find the words to comfort him. This was it. All their work had been for nothing. She would fall into that dream like Carmen said and he’d kill her.

I just wanted to go on vacation…

“What am I supposed to do without you, poppy? I risked everything for this!” Delilah could barely watch as he tore his hands through his hair, gripping it so tight she was worried he’d rip it out. “Alfonso please, i-it’s-” “Do not tell me it’s okay! Nothing about this is okay!” He snapped, his eyes wild and full of righteous fire. “Do you not remember what Carmen said? If I can’t save you, then the Guild deal falls through and I get an execution squad sent after me! I can’t fail here!”

Right. The deal with the Guild. Delilah had forgotten about that in the rush of the final battle. It was either they both lived or they both died, no in between. “What can we do? W-What am I supposed to do? I can’t be a vampire!” Delilah tried to tamp down her panic, actively failing considering the high-strung pitch bleeding into her voice.

Alfonso staggered to his feet, stepping back into the shade to pull Delilah into his arms. “Don’t you worry, poppy. I’ll figure this out. We’ll figure this out. We’re in this together, right?” He could feel her take a shuddering breath before relaxing into him. “Right. We’re in this together.”

~~

Delilah was acting weird. She had been for the past few days. She hadn’t been talking as much, seeming more contemplative, and had been growing more and more unenthusiastic about this venture away from the city and into the wild countryside to avoid the Guild. In his mind, Alfonso knew why. He knew exactly why his love wasn’t the same but his heart refused to acknowledge it. He was going to fix this, he was going to save Delilah and they would be happy together. He would have his happy ending. He deserved it dammit.

“Alfonso.”

There it was again, that soft, tired tone that she’d taken on. When he’d first heard it, it had only stoked the fire in him to keep going, that if he worked hard enough he’d break her of it. But now it was like a cold shower, dousing the fire and raising his frustration.

“Poppy, I’m trying to focus here.”

“Alfonso, please.”

“Delilah, let me do this.”

“Alfonso Villalba.”

He finally stopped and turned towards Delilah, his heart falling to pieces all over again as he saw the worn-out expression on her face. How long had she looked so tired? So sad? “We can’t keep running. I know that, you know that, this is just delaying the inevitable.”

How could she say that? After all he’d done for her? All he’d given up, all he’d risked? And now she just wanted to give up? No, he couldn’t accept that. “Poppy, that’s not true. We’ll find a way, just like we have through everything else. I’ll figure this out, I promised you that-" "Alfonso, enough. There is no other way. You should know that better than anyone.” “That’s not true, there’s still the route that Carmen suggested when we started this.” “That was a hypothesis at best and would take months to get, you know that! We don’t have months. We barely have days. Alfonso, this is it. I’ll fall into the dream or whatever it is and you’ll-” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” His voice was a harsh growl, unable to even think about what she was implying.

Delilah stepped back, fear flashing in her eyes that crushed his soul. He never wanted to scare her, he never wanted to see that terrified expression like he had when he first saved her from Scythus again. Yet here he was causing it. “Wait, Delilah, I’m sorry-” “No, no. This is the problem I’m talking about.” “Problem? What do you mean problem? The problem I’m seeing is that we’re not moving so we can-” “Alfonso I swear if you don’t shut up and let me finish for once, I’m pushing you off this cliff.” Alfonso’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Delilah sighed, rubbing her temples for a second like she was trying to jostle her thoughts together.

“The problem is you. This tunnel vision on a pipe dream that we both know isn’t possible. You’ve made yourself blind to everything around you. You want this to end the way you want so bad that you’ve forgotten about reality. We’re out of time. We’ve tried everything we could and it hasn’t worked. There is no happy ending. The change will fully take hold within a couple of days and then what. You’ve buried your head so far in the sand that you haven’t seen what’s right in front of you. Food is disgusting, I haven’t slept, I can’t even think about sunlight without my skin itching, I’m not me anymore! I’m becoming a monster and there’s nothing I can do to stop it!” Delilah threw her head in her hands, taking a few shaky breaths. Alfonso could hear her quiet sniffles and choked back sobs, wanting to reach out and comfort her but knowing he couldn’t. What could he say? What could he do? There was nothing.

She pulled herself together, scrubbing her face of any lone tears, and looked up at him, forcing him to make eye contact with her and see the soul-crushing pain she was in. “I can’t do this, Alfonso. We both know I won’t survive it. So please, please keep that in mind when I tell you this.” “Tell me what? Delilah, what did you do?” “I…I called Carmen. She knows where we are. She told the Guild. The executioners are after us.” “You did what?! Delilah, qué demonios, have you lost your mind??” “Actually, it’s because I haven’t lost my mind that I called her. A decision needs to be made, Alfonso. And if anyone should make it, it’s me.”

“The way I see it, there are three outcomes here and only one where someone comes out of this alive. One, the Guild catches up to us and kills us both. Me because I’m a lost cause and you because, well, that’s what they were hired for. Two, we run and I turn into a vampire. I kill you out of hunger and then get hunted down by either the Guild or another vampire. Either way, we’re both dead. Or three, you kill me here and now before they get here and run, giving yourself a fighting chance to survive. That’s it. There are no other options.” It was true. It was reasonable. And Alfonso knew that. But his heart still didn’t want to admit to it, didn’t want to admit that there was no way out with his love coming with him.

“Delilah, poppy, I-I can’t do this. I can’t, I won’t.” “So you’d rather the execution squad do it instead? I’m sure they’ll be a lot less merciful.” She raised an eyebrow at him, making him grit his teeth in frustration. Why wouldn’t she listen? “That’s not the point!” “Yes, it is! That’s the entire point! Alfonso, you’ve been calling the shots this entire trip. And for good reason too. But just this once, can’t I?” Delilah stepped forward, taking his hands into her own and forcing him to look at her. “Please. You gave Erica a choice, you made her death peaceful. The executioners won’t have the same level of care as you. I know what I’m asking of you and I know it’s an impossible thing to do but I’m still going to ask. If I have to go, the least I can do is make it on my terms. Won’t you let me have that?”

He hated this. He hated this. Why did everything he cared about get taken from him? Why couldn’t he have this one thing? He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt Delilah’s hands brush at his cheeks. “I don’t want to lose you.” His voice was small and watery, almost broken. “Not like I’ve lost everything else. I just wanted this one thing to myself. Why couldn’t the universe just let me have this?” His cracking facade broke and the floodgates opened, collapsing into Delilah’s arms as sobs ripped from his chest. Alfonso knew it would come to this eventually but he had hoped, prayed, begged of the cosmos that it wouldn’t be this soon. He held her in a vice grip like she’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough, burying his face in her shoulder.

Alfonso could feel her hands in his hair, combing through it and smoothing down his curls in that gentle way she did, could hear her soft voice trying to comfort him over the sound of his muffled sobs, could smell her lingering perfume clinging to her clothes. This was what he was going to lose. And he’d rather be struck down where he stood than let someone else give her anything but the most gentle way out. She was right. If there really was no way out, the least he could do was fulfill her final request for her. He pulled his head out of her neck to look into her eyes. “I’ll do it.” His voice was still weak but still confident and sure. And the relief that passed over her face was like warm honey to his soul. “Oh thank you thank you thank you, I know this is an impossible request but I just…don’t want it to be some clinical afterthought. I know you’ll take care of me.” “Of course I will poppy. Anything.” He gave her one last squeeze, memorizing everything about her that he could before stepping back. “Now, try and get comfortable. I know that’s a little hard out here but we can try.”

After a few minutes, Delilah was set up on her knees on his cape that she’d folded to give some padding. Alfonso was sure she noticed the way his hands were shaking as he drew his pistol. It was the same motions he’d done a hundred times before but this time felt so much heavier. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry at the way she smiled as he lifted the pistol to fire. “I’ll never forget you, my poppy.” “I sure hope not, not after all this.” “I-I love you.” “I love you too, Alfonso. Always and forever.” The last thing he saw was her beautiful face before he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger.

His heart fell to the ground with a thud in time with her body. He didn’t want to open his eyes. If he opened them, it’d be real. He’d have to admit that he couldn’t save her and he was forced to do the thing he’d hoped he’d never have to do since the beginning. But he had to get moving. Delilah had given him the chance to go, to live on, to carry her memory with him, he had to take it before it was too-

“Stop! Drop your weapon!”

Late. He was too late. Once again. And now he’d pay the price for it. He opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by some of the Guild’s best and brightest, dressed all in black like the elements of death they were.

Alfonso dropped his pistol, lifting his hands to show he was no threat. “Go ahead. Kill me. I’m not going to fight you on it.” The squad seemed a little taken aback by his compliance but said nothing. The leader stepped over Delilah’s body, pressing the barrel of his gun to Alfonso’s forehead. “Any last words, Alfonso?”

Alfonso could only chuckle, tilting his head up to the stars as far as the executioner would allow. “Espérame, mi amapola. Así que no tenemos que estar solos al otro lado.”

He wouldn’t be able to carry on her memory, to take the second chance he’d given her, to live his life the way she would’ve wanted him to. The least he could do was make sure she wasn’t lonely in the great beyond.

“May you find the peace you fought for so valiantly in the next life, Alfonso Villalba.”

With a click and a bang, it was all over. A tragic, bloody ending to an equally tragic, bloody story with only one remaining to tell it.

~~

If anyone ever asked Carmen what her most treasured memory was, she’d smile sadly before saying one thing.

“Let me tell you the story of the Matador Gothic.”

(And because I'm both cruel and unusual, here's the symbolism for those of you who want that extra bit of pain. I named her Delilah because Alfonso is Catholic and in the Bible there's the story of Samson, one of God's strongest soldiers, who got tricked into giving up his power by a woman named Delilah. Alfonso gave up everything to be with his love. I chose the nickname Poppy because poppies, according to the language of flowers, mean eternal sleep and oblivion. A tasty lil morsel of tragic foreshadowing.

Go check out my Ao3 for more unrelenting sadness)

[saccharinespr1te]

Escaped Audios Self Insert :3

I never do any self-insert sheets so plz forgive the lack of creativity,,,,and bad handwriting :'> might do another one for new jersey rats or drop some of the sketches i have of alfonso and i

[rustycopper4use]

Matador Gothic! (Escaped Audios)

I really like this one.

however I don’t really know what to put listener in so, I just thought it might be funny to do complete opposites type of thing.

(I forgot to add in that she’s a photography student)

[grim-has-issues]

vete conmigo ☝️

no está muerto 🚫💀

solas paralyzados

oh right english ok 👌

look just come with me 👀

we have to leave NOW 🏃🏃‍♀️💨

ill explain everything ♾️

[escapedaudios]

Sorry for cursing you with this information but dark mode Alphonse from Yuurivoice's Bittersweet looks so frighteningly similar to Alfonso from Matador Gothic that it's crazy. Their uncannily similar names make it feel like they are AU versions of one another.

I wonder if this version of Alfonso got to listen to The Fallout Boys.

[samuraihighwayman]

“Because I want you… I want you so badly…”

I haven’t finished Matador Gothic yet (been busy and I wanna give it the attention it deserves) but this line specifically has STUCK in my brain. Like no joke it’s been three days and I keep going back to this moment at the end of episode five.

One of my biggest gripes with certain asmr series is how quick the love interests are to say “i love you”. Sometimes it’s because the writer decides to imply more history than we’ve seen other times its just because well… frankly writers just jump the gun. That’s not to say everything has to be slowburn and that people cant fall for each other fast but I ADORE the way this scene plays out. Proves once again how good Escaped is at writing romance because GOD this- THIS-!

You don’t need a love confession to write yearning. In fact if Alfonso had flat out said “I love you” here I would have thought it out of character. Real love is built slowly, Alfonso and his listener have known each other for maybe a week at this point. Alfonso is young, but also not stupid. He’s also never done this kind of thing before. Sure he can tell his dad that he might love a girl but speculation to a dead man and actually admitting it for real are different things, The emotions are high and he thinks he’s going to have to kill the first girl he’s ever had real complex feelings for. But it’s not like he’s had time to unpack those feelings. So what does he say?

“I want you.”

God, it’s so real and visceral, raw and messy and so fucking human and PERFECT.

And sure in a worse written thing this would be the love confession. The music would be sweeping and the dialogue would be overdramatic and the gravity of it would be unearned. If that’s your cup of tea fine. But this series (despite its fantastical monsters and group of fancy Spaniard vampire hunters) is so grounded and human for the fact that it DOESN’T have a love confession here. It has something better and more human. The depth of what’s IMPLIED by what Alfonso says instead is just so much more juicy.

[cactuswactus]

Alfonso from @escapedaudios Matador Gothic series

I have been on an escaped audios roll recently. I’ve listened to all of his videos this past week which is what also inspired me to post the Crow sketch.

I love drawing Alfonso’s side profile and I have no idea why

[ateleen]

Characters & Listeners incorrect quotes - Escaped Audios Edition (Part 1)

══════◄••❀••►══════

I'll do part 2 of EAE, but I have to re-listen to Blue Infinity, Der Wolfsjäger, and Chronus Seven.

══════◄••❀••►══════

Raven: Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer extortion. The X makes it sound cool.

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Young Diego, with their hands cupped over each other: I found a cool spider!

Guest: Oh? Lemme see!

Young Diego, opening their hands to see nothing there: …hm.

Guest: …where’s the spider.

Young Diego: *looks troubled and stares at their hands*

Alfonso: Oh no...

Guest: DIEGO, WHERE’S THE SPIDER?!

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Intern: What is the big deal about borrowing money? I do it all the time! Sometimes, I even pay it back!

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Slash: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Bash: Okay.

Slash: And make out during the scary parts.

Bash: Th-

Bash: The scary parts.

Bash: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Escaped: That was so hot, Asset.

Asset: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Escaped: I'm so in love with you.

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Intern: That's ridiculous, Jean doesn't have a crush on me.

Badabing: Yes he does.

Badaboom: Yes he does.

Jean: Yes I do.

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Denny: What do you want for breakfast?

Thaddeus: I WISH TO DEVOUR THE UNBORN.

Denny:

Ash: He wants eggs.

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Ivan: Come to dinner tonight. I can’t cook, but I’ll bring plenty of free wine.

Raven: Marry me.

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Denny: We might have gotten into a bar room brawl back in the city.

Intern: Well, that was entirely predictable.

Denny: One of them punched a gang member.

Intern: Asset?

Denny: Guest, actually.

Intern: Oh, that was going to be my second guess.

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Alfonso: *is wearing silk pants* How does this look?

Guest: Like it slips on and off really easily.

Alfonso:

Guest: No, I didn't mean it like that-

Carmen: We know what you meant.

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

*The gang when they drop food on the floor*

Intern: Aw man. *Throws it away*

Slash: Five second rule!

Denny: Foolish germs, thinking they can stop me!? *Eats it off the floor*

Raven: *Sobs on the floor*

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Bash: I love you.

Slash: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.

*Slash and Bash kiss passionately*

Ellie, to Chase: You owe me 20 dollars.

✿❯────「✿」────❮✿

Asset: This food is too hot... I cant eat it.

Escaped: You’re very hot, and I still eat you.

Everyone at the table: *silence*

Vengeance: YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING!

AK: One dinner... I just want ONE. DINNER.

══════◄••❀••►══════

Next: Scythe Audios

[gulnarsultan]

Yandere Carlos (genderbend Catherine) with a new Wife but he keep the reader as his Mistress how will Carlos treat the reader now as she his mistress now

Will Carlos Start to act like king Henry the 8 toward the reader like how Henry threatening Jane Seymour into submission by saying do you want to end up like the late Queen who got beheaded

Did King Carlos have his newly married Queen executed? For Henry to carry out the threat he made, the new Queen must be executed. I think you're just trying to say that he's threatening to keep the reader in line. I hope I understood correctly.

Reader and King Carlos have five children.

Prince Ferdinand

Prince Lorenzo

Princess Carlota

Prince Alfonso

Princess Victoria

But even after the divorce, you will continue to have children together. And you have no say in this matter. You think you're going to go back to your own country after your divorce. However, you are very wrong. After your divorce and the new Queen arrives at the Palace, you are making preparations to return to your home country. When you say this to King Carlos, you get a harsh reaction. You learn from your bridesmaids in the morning that King Carlos has made you his mistress. You nervously go to King Carlos' study. King Carlos is sending everyone in the room.

"How can you do that ?"

"You will not leave my side. We will continue to live as a family, as it was before."

"No. I am a widow now. You are not my husband. I will return to my country."

You nervously go towards the door to leave the room.

"If your country and your people are important to you, you will not step out of this room. You know very well that I have always had a guilty conscience because we had to divorce. You will always my wife. You are my only Queen."

King Carlos hugs you from behind. You burst into tears as you realize that you cannot escape the golden cage where King Carlos has imprisoned you.

There will be no change in King Carlos' behavior towards you. You are the only true wife and Queen for him. The new Queen is doomed to a truly bad and unhappy marriage. Carlos will continue to make heirs with you. He will not father any children the new Queen will bear.

[novorehere]

Bite-Sized Tidbits:

A snapshot of what life might look like with the seven avatars of sin. Contains a lot of fluff, a little angst, and soft/safe vore with you and the seven Obey Me! brothers. I’ve been working on this on and off for quite a while now, so I hope you enjoy.

Word count: 2096. Written for Vore Day, 2023

—

—

Pride

“I can give you your punishment now, or we can wait until later.”

The edges of the demon’s lips crept up into the beginnings of a smirk. All without breaking his gaze from the stack of documents which he straightened against his desk with a tap tap tap.

“However, I will be leaving for tea with Lord Diavolo as soon as my work is finished. So unless you’d like to spend the evening with Barbatos’ chiffon cake, I’d recommend making up your mind in a timely manner.”

Both of you knew very well that “punishment” wasn’t the right word. Lucifer’s infrequent office calls were less of a punishment and moreso a game, an unspoken routine in which you continuously tested the Avatar of Pride’s patience by indulging his younger brothers’ schemes.

It was a game that toyed with the balance of power, one where you pretended like he couldn’t just shrink you down whenever he wanted and that you couldn’t order him to stop with a single word. It was a game that indulged his pride, one that Lucifer would always win in the end.

It was only a matter of minutes before you were seated in his gloved palm. His ruby eyes lording over you with a gaze that anyone else would find annoyingly high-handed. But after playing his game for so long, to you the affection hiding behind them was obvious.

“Are you ready then, my Lamb?”

He was the morning star, eldest of the seven rulers of the underworld.

Yet despite all of this, Lucifer knew it was you who had him utterly wrapped around your little finger.

—

Greed

Reclining his head against the arm of his couch, the Avatar of Greed kissed his fingertips in mock satisfaction at the burp that had rolled up his throat. A barely audible complaint of “gross” only caused him to chuckle and pat his stomach triumphantly.

“Maybe ya shoulda thought about that before bein’ so damn filling.”

A sound like “Guh” escaped the demon’s mouth as a swift kick to his liver interrupted his musings.

“Oi! The Great Mammon’s gonna start chargin’ 10,000 Grimm for damages every time ya do that!” Ya oughta learn some basic respe-”

And there it was, the familiar flutter of tiny fingers rubbing circles into him from inside. Perhaps it was your way of saying sorry… More likely though that you just wanted to shut him up. It was annoying how easily you could reduce him to a blushing mess without uttering a single word.

“Hey… ‘s not fair. You’re playin’ dirty…”

Mammon rolled onto his side in an uncharacteristically gentle motion, secretly admiring the scene in his full-length mirror. Here he was, splayed out amongst piles of his belongings with his shirt ridden up and his belly rounded out in his lap. If *any* of his brothers saw him like this, he would never hear the end of their teasing. But luckily for Mammon, not even you could know the way his face became soft as he teased a finger around his navel too gently for you to feel.

“Why’d ya stop? C’mon, now… keep goin.’”

It didn’t matter how much Mammon gambled away or how many centuries it had been since he’d hit the jackpot at the casino. When he was with you, Mammon felt like the luckiest demon in the three realms.

But sometimes it was hard to put it into words. Which is exactly why he treasured moments like these, the moments where his greed got the better of him. The moments where he could steal you away to be his and his alone.

After all, it was much easier to express how madly in love with you he’d become when he didn’t have to meet you face to face.

—

Envy

“You know, this is just like that one scene in ‘My Life as a Shut-In Reincarnated as a Worker in the Shopping Mall Dimension’ where Prince Alfonso goes to the food court kingdom and-”

Leviathan groaned, burying his face into his body pillow as if that could somehow hide him from the voice in his middle.

“You can’t use my own otaku tactics against me, it’s… *hic-* it’s not fair!!”

Your muffled laughter reverberated off the walls of his bathtub, accompanied by the occasional hiccup and the tip of a serpentine tail nervously thumping against porcelain.

He didn’t mean for his horns to sprout from his head when you tried to leave his room that night. He didn’t mean for his tail to wrap around your ankle, wordlessly begging you to stay. And he certainly didn’t mean for his stomach to loudly vocalize the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind the entire night. What was this, some sort of tropey romance manga?

But here he was, face as red as a bouquet of queen of jealousy and stuffed to the (decidedly metaphorical) gills in his own bathtub. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, reduced to a blushing, hiccuping mess. And he had nobody but himself to blame.

But really, how could he have resisted? Especially with the visions of what could have happened instead playing through his head on repeat. Asmo whisking you away to some club filled with normies who could actually hold a real conversation, Mammon snatching you up for an unauthorized night drive in his Demonio 666 Lexura, Beel getting a little too peckish and… he couldn’t bear to think about it.

Leviathan knew wanting to be your one and only was unreasonable. He knew that he was a terrible, horrible friend for thinking these thoughts and becoming so troubled at the prospect of anyone else showing you any sort of affection. That no one would ever want to be with a miserable, pathetic joke of a shut-in that wasn’t worth the scum in Henry’s tank-

But as soon as they had come, the negative thoughts washed away like a speck in the ocean as you snuggled closer to his hand, a muffled voice reassuring him that there was no place you’d rather be tonight.

—

Wrath

“With an over-exaggerated flourish, the detective tipped his hat to the dame as he disappeared into the evening fog like the curls of smoke which danced from his pipe…”

The demon’s inner monologue was cut short as a violent squirming sensation roused him from his novel. Your ears detected the unmistakable sound of a huff and a book closing, muffled by layers of flesh and fabric.

“Restless as ever, I see…”

Normally, Satan would be more than offended to have his attention ripped from the pages of a good book. But this time the annoyance that swelled in his chest turned not into rage, but affection as the fire settled in his stomach and melted away… You tended to have that effect on him.

The blonde sighed fondly, gazing down at the bump in his sweater.

“…Would you like me to read aloud to you? Perhaps that will help you settle some.”

Pulling the covers up a bit higher around his navel, he tucked them in snugly around his sides. A rare smile crossed Satan’s face as he admired his handiwork. The man reached over to his nightstand, finding there exactly what he was looking for in the dim light. A paperback atop the haphazard piles of hardcovers strewn about, placed there with care as not to crease the art on the cover he knew you loved so much.

With both of you tucked in for the night, it was easier than ever to melt into the gentle rumble of his voice.

“Our story begins in a world of monsters…”

—

Lust:

Asmodeus knows that true beauty comes from within. How could it not, when the skin of the human that emerges from his lips always feels so much softer and smoother than before? He makes sure to bring it to your attention every time, doting over how the glow of his inner beauty rubs off on you so easily. Despite everything, he thinks you look so gorgeous lying in his palm. Layers of mucus, tired bags under your eyes, and all.

But sometimes it’s hard to feel beautiful inside or out with wings dyed black and pointed horns replacing the light of your halo.

—

A delicate, painted fingertip wipes a stray bead of drool from your face. The other hand is busy at your head, gently combing the tangles from your still-damp hair with the tiniest heart-shaped hairbrush. Asmodeus had been ecstatic the day it arrived, practically bowling over Levi before snatching the Akuzon package from his arms with a squeal.

It was a ritual at this point, the way he pampered you after letting you out. Swaddling you in a soft, lilac-scented hand towel warmed by the gentle breeze of his hairdryer, wiping you clean as he hummed a familiar tune.

“Baby, you want my love


No matter who you are


I want you to show me


I fell in love with someone


Besides myself for the first time”

He didn’t need to be the “Jewel of the Heavens” with you as his jewel, a precious pearl to tuck away beside his heart where all the things he loves live.

And he had so, so much love to give.

—

Gluttony

Beelzebub was on the verge of snapping when you came to him.

He was breathing heavily when you found his monstrous, horned silhouette hunched over the empty refrigerator. Frightened eyes were glazed over with a hunger that threatened to swallow you up with their very gaze. His mouth opened in a silent plea, perhaps an apology, but it was drowned out by the roar of his stomach.

Sometimes it felt as if no amount of food could put out the fire that raged within him. The burning sensation could only be briefly dulled by each cooling mouthful that slid down his throat. But then it was gone, claimed by the emptiness inside him that demanded “more.”

But you… you were different.

Simply being around you made him feel full, and for that he was ever grateful. But sometimes he needed more than a feeling. He needed to be sure you were there, to know that you were alive. To feel the weight of that missing piece that left him the day that he fell.

But despite what he needed, he still required your explicit permission to take it.

“…Can I?”

“You may.”

With your words, Beelzebub gave himself over to his gluttony. It was primal, animalistic… but one thing was for certain.

No demon in hell could devour you as lovingly as he did that night.

—

Sloth

Beneath the attic room comforter, an incoherent mumble could be heard from a demon-sized lump in the sheets.

Belphegor rolled onto his stomach as he nestled deeper into his nest of blankets. It didn’t take long at all for a lazy smile to crawl across the Avatar of Sloth’s face. Even though you were undoubtedly squashed in this position, he could still feel your tiny hands working their magic just like he had asked.

Oh, how you spoiled him rotten.

It was hard not to with the way Belphegor expressed his desires so plainly. To borrow your jacket to use as a pillow, to keep quiet to Lucifer about skipping classes, to stroke his hair while he lay on your lap. The others weren’t too thrilled with your coddling, but Belphie couldn’t care less.

After all, they had gotten so much more time with you than he had. They got to know you, to love you, to taste you… all before you even knew his name.

Belphegor was the Avatar of Sloth, not envy. But there was once a time when the unmistakable tingling warmth of his twin indulging in you left the bitter aftertaste of jealousy on his tongue. It was a strange feeling, his brother’s affection for a human. One that, until recently, he couldn’t quite understand. And at the time, he had no desire to.

Nowadays the sensation was far from unwelcome. But ever since that night at the castle when he gifted you his pact, Belphegor had found that he much preferred having you all to himself in person. All to himself…

A small yawn escaped the youngest’s mouth as mind wandered to his twin. Could he feel it too, he wondered? The phantom weight of your touch?

…Perhaps he’d ask Beel about it later. But for now, he had an extremely important nap to get to.

—

Neither of you were conscious enough to know it, but that night as Beelzebub carried his brother down to his own bed and tucked him in, he whispered not one, but two good-nights.

[jacks347]

I have not been giving the Escaped fans enough attention recently so let's change that in the best way I know how shall we >:3

I fully believe that Alfonso was really torn and slightly guilty about letting Deigo become a slayer like him because he saw Deigo as his second chance. An opportunity to give himself the childhood he never had. A chance to let his son be normal in a way that he never had a choice in. But at the same time he knows that he has to teach him. With both himself and the Guest being prominent slayers, Diego has a target on his back. Shielding him from Alfonso's own lonely childhood only puts him in more danger.

He has to raise his son as a slayer, just like his father before him. Not because he wants to, but because he has to. He has to teach him how to defend himself. He has to learn about what lurks in the dark before it comes for him. And I know he beats himself up over it.

But at the same time, Alfonso is far more lax with his rules than his own father, much to his partner's chagrin who now has to wrangle two versions of their idiot husband because Deigo was definitely a teenage playboy. (He is a carbon copy of his pretty boy father, look me in my eyes and tell me I'm wrong)

"Oh my god, he's you if you weren't so emotionally stunted."

"What does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it, Casanova."

[useless-catalanfacts]

Hello! Centuries after Jewish people were expelled from Portugal and Spain, Portugal allowed them to return, but I don't know if Spain did the same. I read your post about Jews in Catalonia, and was wondering if some came back and if there is still a Jewish comunity there today? :o

Yes, the same happened, but they are still few in number.

Some Jewish people returned to Iberia in the 20th century. It might come as a surprise to many, but it was during the proto-fascist dictatorship of Primo de Rivera and during the fascist dictatorship of Francisco Franco when more Jewish people moved to Spain.

Philosephardism became popular in the early 1900s. That's when the first campaigns to bring Sephardi people close to Spain started, many of them led by the politician Ángel Pulido Fernández.

The first campaign was in 1904, but it was more about creating shared organizations with Sephardis in Northern Africa and not so much migration yet. In 1910, the King of Spain Alfonso XIII founded the Spanish-Hebrew Union (Unión Hispano-Hebrea), which saw 4000 people sign up as members in the Moroccan protectorate (remember that at this time Morocco was a protectorate of Spain). This Union created schools for Sephardi children in Morocco and the Balkans to teach them Spanish.

The moment where many Jewish people migrated to Spain, creating a significant Jewish community for the first time since the Middle Ages, was during the First World War (Spain was neutral in WW1, so it was a safe area compared to most of Europe). Barcelona was one of the places that received the most Jewish immigration in this period: about 1,000 people, most of them coming from Austria-Hungary and some from France.

More continued to migrate to Spain during the Primo de Rivera dictatorship (1923-1930), because in 1924 the dictatorship made a law that all Sephardi people could get the Spanish nationality. According to the Comunitat Israelita de Barcelona (the association of Jewish people of Barcelona), in 1936 there were already 5,000 Jewish people, more than half of them newly arrived from Poland and Germany, and others having arrived from Austria, Hungary and Romania.

As expected, the immigration continued during the Second World War, escaping the Holocaust (even though Spain gave support to the Nazis and sent some legions to fight against Russia on Germany's side, it was mostly neutral in WW2 because the Spanish Civil War had just ended, leaving the country in extreme poverty and destruction). The regime said that they were only allowing the Jewish people to cross Spain on their way to somewhere else and that they didn't want them to stay, but after all they weren't really checking on each person, so some stayed.

Even with this situation, make no mistake: Jewish people were not well seen during the dictatorships. It was mandatory to be Catholic, and everything bad in the world was attributed either to the "separatist reds" (national minorities, independentists, communists, anarchists, anticlericals, atheists) or to a "Judeo-Masonic conspiracy" (Jewish people and Freemasons), thought to be working together to destroy Spain and the Christendom. This wasn't just a matter of the early years, no: it was a constant reasoning during the whole dictatorship in the schools, media, speeches, everything. Even in Franco's very last public appearance (October 1st 1975, celebrating his 39th anniversary since he was "appointed" as dictator, when the last week there had been demonstrations in different places around Europe against the death sentence that the regime had condemned some political dissidents to), he blamed the eternal communist, Freemason, Jewish international conspiracy for those demonstrations.

Despite their antisemitism, after the Second World War the fascist dictatorship of Spain also used the fact that they were "helping" Jewish people as a propaganda point to get the sympathy of Western countries, as a way to show that they had sided with Hitler and Mussolini because of a common hatred of communism but not because they hate Jewish people. This way, the dictatorship hoped to be accepted as a normal country, join the UN, with no sanctions. And it worked, mostly because the USA was promoting fascist countries as a way to counter communism.

In the late 1940s, the dictatorship allowed private individual worship to any religion (you could pray to whoever in your private home), even though everyone still had to take part in the Catholic rites in public. In 1949, Franco officially recognised the Barcelona Israelite Community, who opened a synagogue in Barcelona in the year 1954. This was the first synagogue in all the state of Spain since the Jewish people were expelled or forced to convert in 1492.

In the 1950s, the biggest Jewish immigration wave to Spain arrives from Northern Africa, and in the 1960s from South America. In 1968, the Vatican and Spain symbolically revoked the 1492 decree of expulsion. After the end of the dictatorship (1977), there is freedom of religion in Spain.

Nowadays, there is a small but existing Jewish community resulting of these waves of immigration throughout the 20th century. They are only a few thousands, so it doesn't show up in any religion statistics, but they are there.

Percentage of the Spanish population that identifies with each religion. Data from Observatorio del Pluralismo Religioso de España.

[storyofmychoices]

How to Distract a Rogue

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Masterlist] [Mal’s Orphanage]

Pairings: Mal Volari x Daenarya (F!OC) Book: Blades of Light and Shadow Word Count: ~800 Rating: Teen (just to be safe) Prompts: @choicesprompts Rewrite Challenge: Psych "Ferry Tales" / dialogue exchange as requested by @promptnonny [Scene (first 28 seconds)]

Synopsis: Daenarya devises a new way to keep Mal distracted.

Daenarya and Mal found themselves at the bustling docks of Port Parnassus. The air was alive with the sounds of merchants haggling their goods and seafarers preparing their vessels for their next adventure. The pungent aroma of freshly caught fish filled their senses, mingling with the comforting salty breeze that gently caressed their faces. 

Daenarya took his hand, dragging Mal forward through the throngs toward the small ship waiting just ahead. She had timed it perfectly, but they didn't have any time to waste. They were heading toward a remote island community off the coast to lend a hand in the cleanup efforts after a violent storm had ravaged the community.

"Where are we going?" Mal asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Tempering her smile, Daenarya led him onto the ship's deck where other volunteers prepared for the task ahead. "We're heading to Ambermoor."

"Why would we go there?"

"To help them clean up after the storm," her voice filled with determination, as she pulled him further onboard.

"If you had told me we were boarding a boat to the Ambermoor Islands to clean up, obviously, I would have said no," Mal replied, a hint of reluctance in his tone.

"That's exactly what I told you," Daenarya nodded in amusement.

"And what did I say?" Mal protested, placing his hands on his hips, certain he had protested this once already.

"You said no," Daenarya agreed, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Then why am I here?" he whined, scanning the surroundings for an escape route.

"Because you're easily distracted," Daenarya answered, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

"What? When it comes to mental focus, I'm sharper..." Mal's protest came to an abrupt halt when Daenarya presented him with another fresh, juicy Purple Parnassian. "Ooh! Thanks! I was starved." He eagerly took a bite, savoring the fiery flavor as it burned down his throat. The snack's tell-tale purple liquid stained his lips. "You know, when Alfonso says these things really satisfy, he's not lying. So packed with flavor..."

As they settled on the weathered deck among the crowd of volunteers, the sounds of the bustling dock faded into a distant murmur. The wooden planks beneath their feet creaked softly with each step. The call of seagulls sang above them, hoping for just a taste of the tempting treat Mal held in his hand. The cool, salty breeze caressed their faces, welcoming them on their journey. The ship began to rock with the lapping waves as it began its slow departure from the dock.

Mal's pout returned, noticing his exit window had closed. "Oh, man."

Daenarya smiled, pleased with her successful diversion. "And, done."

"How could you trick me like that?" Mal whined. His shoulders slumped as he stamped his feet in playful frustration. 

"We agreed that if we borrowed things without permission and without the intention of bringing them back, we would do one thing to make up for it," she reminded him.

"That doesn't sound like me." His right brow arched questioningly. "Was I drunk?"

"Yes." Daenarya brushed her fingers against his, her touch relaxing him. "That changes the outcome, how?"

Mal's mouth began to open in protest, but Daenarya swiftly interrupted. "And before you answer with something like I can't trust your words when you're drunk, let me remind you of some other activities you mentioned that were very, very enjoyable for the both of us that night."

Mal sighed, groaning in reluctant defeat. "Fine."

"Cheer up—" She pressed a fleeting kiss on his cheek as she laced her fingers with his. "If you're a good boy and help out with the cleanup, I'll show you another more hands-on distraction technique I've perfected."

"What did you have in mind?" His mood lifted at the prospect of her proposal.

"Well, I was thinking.—" She chewed her lower lip, her gaze hungrily raking down his body. Her fingers danced up his chest, pulling on his collar slightly. "—we could sneak away and find a more secluded spot where I could give you a nice reward for all your hard work."

A roguish grin filled his face, but it faltered a moment later as his gaze narrowed on her suspiciously. "Are you just saying that to get me to go along with this plan?"

"Maybe..." She teased, leaning in, her voice a whisper against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "Or, maybe... I like the thought of you all hot and sweaty from working, your shirt tightening around your muscles. Mmm!" She hummed; the thought alone lit a fire burning within her. Her fingers traced teasing patterns along his arms, relishing in how he responded to her touch. She playfully nipped his ear. Her hot breath lingered, "I guess you'll have to wait and find out, Mr. Magnificent."

The pair drifted through the crowd, settling against the side of the ship.

Mal's hand brushed against the smooth railing, the coolness of the polished wood offering a comforting spot to rest against. His gaze fixed on the growing expanse of ocean surrounding them. The now calm waters gave little clues to the storm that had passed. Daenarya wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder as he pulled her closer. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

I hope you enjoyed this silly little rewrite. @promptnonny sent me this scene a few months ago and I never got around to writing it, but I figured since @choicesprompts is hosting a rewrite event, now might be the best time to finally fill the request. Thanks for the inspiration @promptnonny! I absolutely adore Psych so this request made me smile so much!

[grim-has-issues]

“We WeRE TaLkInG aBoUT tHe AiR CoNdItIOnInG!”

The word “air conditioning” was not used once in that conversation.

[escapedaudios]

DADFONSO ART DADFONSO ART

Alfonso and Diego Villalba (circa 2012). He might not look it yet, but one day he will be as feared by vampires as the sun itself. Illustrated by @keyaartz.

[hyperannotation]

Official Report on The Intransitionalist Chronotopologies of Kenji Siratori (TRS 109)

YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE INEFFABLE FOREST

Official Report on The Intransitionalist Chronotopologies of Kenji Siratori: Appendix 8.2.3 is a xenopoetic data/dada anthology that documents the activities of the artist collective The Ministry of Transrational Research into Anastrophic Manifolds. The anthology results from an experimental approach to impersonal literary composition. Similar to surrealist definitions, but on the scale of a technical document, members of the Ministry—poets, musicians, novelists, painters, curators, artists, scientists, philosophers, and physicians—were asked to offer a microfiction, poem, essay, fictional citation, or computer code, in the form of a footnote or annotation to a glitch-generated novel by iconoclastic Japanese artist Kenji Siratori; however, each participant wrote their contribution without any access to or knowledge about the nature of Siratori’s source text. After collecting the contributions, the “footnotes” were each algorithmically linked to an arbitrary word from Siratori’s novel. The result is a work of xenopoetic emergence: a beautifully absurd, alien document scintillating with strange potency. Bringing together algorithmically and AI-generated electronic literature with analogue collage and traditional modes of literary composition, the Ministry refuses to commit solely to digital, automated, or analogue art and instead seeks technological mutualism and a radically alien future for the arts. Accompanied by a groundbreaking original score by electro-acoustic duo Wormwood, the anthology offers the radical defamiliarization and weird worlds of science fiction, but now the strangeness bites back on the level form. Readers should expect to discover strange portals from which new ways of thinking, feeling, and being emerge. A conceptual and experimental anthology, Official Report on The Intransitionalist Chronotopologies of Kenji Siratori inaugurates collective xenopoetic writing and the conceit that the future of art will consist of impersonal acts of material emergence, not personal expression. Consume with caution.

AUTHORS AND CONTRIBUTORS Rosaire Appel, Louis Armand, David Barrick, Gary Barwin, Steve Beard, Gregory Betts, Christian Bök, Mike Bonsall, Peter Bouscheljong, Maria Chenut, Shane Jesse Christmas, Roy Christopher, Tabasco “Ralph” Contra, Mike Corrao, R.J. Dent, Paul Di Filippo, Zak Ferguson, Colin Herrick, S.C. Hickman, Maxwell Hyatt, Justin Isis, Andrew Joron, Chris Kelso, Phillip Klingler, Adam Lovasz, Daniel Lukes , Ania Malinowska, Claudia Manley, Ryota Matsumoto, Michael Mc Aloran, Andrew McLuhan, Jeff Noon, Jim Osman, Suarjan Prasai, Tom Prime , David Leo Rice, Virgilio Rivas, David Roden, B.R. Yeager, Andrej Shakowski , Aaron Schneider, Gary J. Shipley, Kenji Siratori , Sean Smith, Kristine Snodgrass, Sean Sokolov, Alan Sondheim, Simon Spiegel, Henry Adam Svec, Jeff VanderMeer, R.G. Vasicek, Andrew C. Wenaus, William Wenaus, Eileen Wennekers, Christina Marie Willatt, Saywrane Alfonso Williams, D. Harlan Wilson, Andrew Wilt

early September release