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doyoulikethis-videogame-song · 4 months ago

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Ask Masterpost 1/25/2025

I will be answering the BLOG RELATED asks that I have received since opening my inbox. Lucky number three this finally becomes consistent :).

I would like to state here that even though I don't respond to them (I'm persnickety about keeping ask spam low) I very much appreciate everyone's well wishes and compliments and gratefulness for this blog. I screenshot all of them and keep them in a folder. Thank you so much and I hope you keep having fun :).

@forrest-knight asked: Hello! I am here to ask for some clarification regarding the rules: “Songs from multimedia series that are primarily NOT video games (such as the Homestuck minigames, for example) will not be accepted.” I’m a bit confused with this rule, does this mean we’re not allowed to submit songs from licensed video games (aka games made for non video game media), even if the song is originally made for the game (ex. To The Moon from the DuckTales NES game). Or does this rule is intended for something completely different? *please note that I’ve never read homestuck, so this might relate to my confusion Anyways, thank you so much for doing this! And I hope you have a great whatever time you are reading this!

SO Homestuck was the only example I could think of at the time as a series that actually did this. I was specifically thinking about franchises/series/works that 100% did not start off intending to be a video game but, in the nature of being a multimedia series, added video game minigames or mobile games as it developed.

This is referring to things like homestuck (a webcomic that featured small browser/flash games within the comic), many idol gacha games** (hypnosis mic, love live), etc. This does not include series that were 'completed' (loosely used since I know many of these frequently get universe-expanding sequels and threequels and whathaveyou) and then had video game spinoffs, such as Star Wars, Marvel, etc.

** exceptions being tracks that are exclusively used in the video game itself, such as BGM.

I know this rule is probably the most complicated one and I'm still trying to figure out how to word it clearly and precisely LMAO. Fundamentally it comes down to intent, which is why I'm still on the fence some things like tracks used exclusively in promotional materials and things like that.

That being said: if the song is originally from a video game as in literally you can hear it while you are playing the video game you are totally in the clear

And according to your second ask (I won't name the songs in case you want to submit them): The one made for and coming from the NES game is fine (of course), AND the one that is the 8-bit version of the NON-VGM one is ALSO FINE, because it was REMIXED for the NES game :).

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**NUMEROUS QUESTIONS ABOUT PUTTING DISCLAIMERS ASKING PEOPLE NOT TO SPOIL THE SONGS**

The blind listening and polling period is just for fun! If someone really likes a song and wants to know what it is/where it's from, PLEASE feel free to tell them!!! And PLEASE always enter the notes with the expectation that there may be song spoilers!!

I will ask that you keep it in the TAGS rather than the comments or reblogs (you're more than welcome to DM people the title if they ask), just for the sake of people who might want to discuss the song without spoilers. I'll put that in the pinned and the (eventual...) formal rules.

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What's up! New here so sorry if this has been asked before but has the exact same song been submitted more than once before? Like it's clearly different people but the same song keeps getting submitted over and over again?

Ever since Mod Rae cleared duplicates I have no idea anymore, BUT I know there have been a lot of different submissions for a few select Disco Elysium songs. That doesn't shock me because I know it's got a cult following here :).

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do you get a lot of the same people in ur notes or is it like. a few of the same and then it branches out to fandoms where people know the song? or do u not pay attn to your notes at all (also fair)

I do read the notes (when I remember)! I really like hearing people's opinions, and I always look through the tags on songs I know (I find it really hilarious seeing 'is this dark souls?' 'is this nier?' on any orchestral ever). There are a lot of familiar faces but I'd say the majority for any given poll are new or sparsely in the notes :).

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Would you ever consider adding two more "i dont feel strongly/have an opinion" options to the polls? Specifically, "it sounds familiar and i dont have an opinion" and "ive def heard it before and dont feel strongly/have an opinion"? Of course, if theres a specific reason why you dont add those two as options, feel free to ignore this, ty <3

I've considered this -- but honestly, that button has always existed as more of a 'I just want to click a button' option than an actual datapoint I'm looking for (I think I might have answered an ask similar to this before but I don't remember so I'm answering it again LOL). When that option dominates, I always read the notes and tags for discussion and I'd encourage anyone who is genuinely interested to do the same. Actual complex opinions, of course, cannot be captured with the limitations of preset poll options anyways LMFAO.

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@mkcannothelpyou asked: I'm beginning to wonder if spacing series severely further apart and prioritising picks further down the queue that aren't as represented would make for a more interesting order - as it is, it feels like you can more or less still track what people submitted and when, with waves of series (and closely related works within those series, at that) coming in conspicuously densely. Hearing the same style only days apart might impact poll results for the negative as time goes on.

This was mostly the fault of me allowing people to submit multiple songs at once, leading to songs with similar qualities (as they are all liked by one person with a particular taste) being grouped together, even if they're from different series. I limit submissions to one per period now so this will not be a problem in the future :').

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@the-mayor-of-space asked: how long do submissions typically stay open once they are open?

I originally wanted to have them permanently opened (thinking people wouldn't mind waiting for their submissions) until I got an insane amount of submissions, severely underestimating the popularity of this blog. I then tried to do a 24 hr submission period, and then a 12 hr submission period, but both of these still ended up with a fuck ton of submissions so the current answer is 'They're closed until I can figure out something proper'...

I don't want purging the existing submissions to be on the table, but if I get to the 1 year anniversary of this blog without a better option I might have to go that route -- in which case I'd probably publish all the unposted options so people know if theirs was cut so they know to resubmit it if they're still interested.

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**NUMEROUS QUESTIONS ABOUT HOW FAR BACK THE SUBMISSIONS ARE**

WE'RE FINALLY IN AUGUST!!!!!!!!

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are fan/non official/non licensed versions of songs allowed? because i am 100% certain #293 is a fan made remaster and medley arrangement (im not the submitter but i know the song well - i found the youtube video the audio is from and the comments from OP confirm it is a fan remix). if they are, that's totally cool, but i couldn't find anything in the submission rules about it. i dont intend this ask to be rude or hostile at all, and either way im grateful you've created such an active community with this blog!

They're not really allowed unless they're from a mod or fangame. Since it's a fanmade remaster it's kind of towing the line, so I'm not inherently against it, but it might end up just being a highly situational thing.

Note: I'm not familiar with Fire Emblem at ALL but I knew this particular song was from an older game, which is why I wasn't opposed to posting the remastered version. In any future submissions I'd appreciate if this sort of thing were indicated just in case! I will add that to the submission guidelines :). And of course if there's a better way to go about this (i.e if the game is like, 30+ years old fanmade remasters/upscales are permitted or something like that) I will make sure that's made clear as well :).

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sorry if you've answered this before but I was just wondering, are people allowed to submit spoiler songs for the polls? like final boss songs and songs from endings and secret endings

Absolutely! But I think for all future submissions (this doesn't apply now since there's a huge backlog) I might put a hold on the submissions of OSTS from new games for like 1-2 months (i.e No Mario Kart 9 OSTs until two months after the game drops!) so people who are playing/going to play the game have time to play it before hearing the OSTs unprompted.

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@its-daisukenojobito asked: Just out of curiosity, do you prefer the more obscure submissions, or more well known? I feel like for the sake of reach, the more well known the better, but as a participant, i love being able to hear something I wasn't expecting, and knowing it!

I have no preference, but it's always fun hearing good stuff from games and series I've literally never heard of!

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@venonomnomicon asked: am i allowed to DM to check the status of a submission? it was a couple of months ago though i do respect it's probably just deep in the queue as you get hundreds of submissions a month lol

Absolutely, but you'll have to DM my main blog (@himejoshi) because apparently tumblr doesn't let you have DMs when you have more than one blog admin.

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@royvalentine asked: is the form supposed to be only submittable once?

Yes, so people would only submit one song per submission period. I intended to make a new form for every submission period... There just hasn't been one since.

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hi question, do pinball tables count as video games?

I don't think I have enough experience to answer this question... What do y'all think????

#vgpollasks #vgmpaskpost #not a vgmusic poll

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kedreeva · 3 months ago

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Forgive me, but I'm new to Tumblr and thus am a bit "slow" when it comes to how things work.

I saw in your bio (status? Description? Whatever you call the thing on a profile) that you help when something something, so I figured you were a good place to start!

How does this platform work, exactly? I get that there are the posts on the front page and the questionnaire you fill when you make an account, but aside from that, they kind of drop you in without a map XD

What's with the #'s, why is everyone so forcibly autistic and gay (no problem, just a bit confusing as an outside observer), where do I go to get where I want to?

Sorry if this seems scatterbrained as a question, but I am bloody lost XD

Tyvm,

Dragon.

First of all, welcome! Of course I am happy to help!

Second of all, Tumblr is kind of the gay and neurodivergent website. Asking why we are this way is kind of like going to a food blog and asking why there are so many recipes. It's just sort of the place we've chosen to gather amongst friends.

As for how the site works... well, most days it doesn't, but through the power of will you can make it do stuff.

So if you look at the top bar of the site (or if you're on mobile, the bottom corner with the little pencil in a colorful circle), you'll see you can make several different kinds of posts. MOST posts on this site are going to be text or photos, very few posts will be anything else, but it happens. You can make your own posts ("posting") or you can use the circular arrows button to reblog someone else's post ("reblogging"). Reblogging a post places a copy of a post on your blog for others to see, and is highly encouraged as the main form of community. Reblogging maintains connection to the original poster, who retains credit and can see where the post goes and who likes it. This is good!! There is another form of post that is BAD, and that is taking the content of someone else's post, making a new post, and posting it as a fresh post- this is called reposting, and it WILL get you blocked by... pretty much everyone as it's widely considered stealing. Reblogging (using the arrows button) is GOOD, stealing someone's stuff and making a new post is BAD.

The #'s are called tags, and they are NOT like tags on instagram or twitter (at least, not ONLY). On tumblr, the first few tags in any original post are used as a way for the site to file posts you MAKE into "the tag" (singular) which is what comes up when you use the search function. So, if you tag something "Birds" and then you go search "birds" you post should show up in that tag's feed. HOWEVER. Since this ONLY happens for original posts, and you can add tags when you reblog stuff, tags on reblogged posts are just for talking in ways that aren't designed to follow the post. People use the "the tags" (plural) to talk to their followers, to talk to OP, to add clarification, to answer other tags in the notes of posts, etc, and they use it as a filing system for their own blogs (if you search ON THEIR BLOG only, you can search the words they normally use for tags to find stuff, and this works for reblogs too. it actually doesn't WORK work, you'd be better off using google to find stuff on people's blogs. tumblr is a functional website). So if you MAKE post, your post gets seen in The Tag of each tag you add for the site's general search function, and if you REBLOG a post the tags only matter to your blog's search function (and whoever is following you or reading the notes). If you want, you can reply in the body of a reblog post, but what you reply will follow the post around if someone reblogs it from you. Most people try to keep that form of post addition to relevant info. Tags are kind of like using your indoor voice to talk to a little group of friends, vs adding to a post in the body which is like having a megaphone.

You get to "the notes" by clicking on the number in the bottom left of any given post. You can see replies, tags and comments, and likes, on different tabs. "Liking" a post does not feed an algorithm here; this is a place which scorns algorithms. We spread things by hand, by reblogging them.

If you want to find creative work here, you can search the site for tags that might interest you. If you like birds, for example, you might search the site for "birds" or "bird" or "feathers" or "peacock" or "bluejay" or whatever birds you want to see. You have the choice to follow a tag (not recommended, as anyone can post spam to tags) or to scroll through the tag and click on the usernames of people posting things you like. Scroll through their blogs a little ways (10-20 posts) to see if you like their general vibe/whatever they're posting, and if you do like it, follow them! Following another user will then place them on your dashboard (the little house icon at the top or bottom takes you to your dashboard, or dash). Your dash amalgamates all the people you follow into a feed that you can scroll, kind of like following reddit forums (maybe?? I don't really use reddit so don't quote me).

You can scroll your dash to see posts you like (typical) or if you have the fortitude, you can become a tag diver. Tag divers are time honored and respected members of the tumblr ecosystem. These are folks who go into the main tag (for example, search the site for "birds" and scroll it) and look for good posts to reblog/queue. People then follow tag divers to see just the good posts from The Tag, without the spam or off topic or whatever stuff.

There are other sections of the site, like "for you" but idk what they do. Hardly anyone that's been here long term uses that. It's the closest to an algorithm as you'll get on the site, and we're very anti algorithm.

I mentioned a "queue" and that's another vital part of tumblr, and something unique to tumblr that makes it very special. You have the ability to either post instantly, OR.... you can add a post to your queue. The queue collects posts you put into it, and spits them out at regular intervals throughout the day, according to the preferences you set. So, mine is set to post I think 3 times a day. I've had it set as high as 20 times a day before, but it's usually at 3-5 depending on how many posts are in it. You can queue up to 1000 posts at a time. If your queue is full, you can add posts to your "drafts" section to queue or post later (or just post them). There's a post limit per day (I think it's 300? I could be wrong), so you can only make 300 posts a day. You may or may not ever hit that, but it exists.

If you want to view your notifications, you can find them in the lightning bolt on the webpage, or the little chat bubble on the app. You can filter activity, which is a great tool.

I think that's mostly the basics, although I am sure people will add more info in reblogs. You can find their added info by clicking on the "notes" in the bottom left of this post and then clicking on their reblog title. You can try doing a reblog by reblogging this to respond!

#asks #tumblr #I am happy you have asked instead of struggling alone #I'm happy to explain anything further or answer more questions

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months ago

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Good morning, Trein-sensei. Can you explain how your time as a Noble Bell College student was? Here is a box of vichyssoise and a hair brush for Lucius. Have a good day.

I know that Trein says he met his wife at NBC, but I don't think that confirms he's a student there? 🤔 (Cuz he could have been visiting from another school or something!) Just because we don't have clarification, I'm going to treat this as though Trein was asked about the school itself rather than his time at it.

A Storied Past.

You slid into the seat across from him, setting your lunch tray down. All your favorites from the cafeteria buffet were plated along with a carton of your drink of choice. The best time of the school day was here: Trein's story time.

The older gentleman dipped his spoon into the bowl of vichyssoise you had provided. It was so thick, so creamy, that it entirely coated his implement and stuck there, refusing to dribble. The odor was strong--potatoes, leeks, onions, and a medley of fresh herbs. He closed his thin, papery lips around the fragrant spoonful and swallowed, nodding with satisfaction.

(Beside him, Lucius pawed at the hairbrush's bristles. After classes finished for the day, Trein had promised to thoroughly groom his familiar.)

"Noble Bell College is a school much smaller in scale than our Night Raven College. However, the quality of the education it provides is by no means lacking," Trein explained--the start of a very long lecture, you suspected. "Following in the footsteps of the Righteous Judge, Noble Bell has mandatory courses in theology, law, and ethics. Graduates are to have integrity, good judgment, and, above all else, are willing to ask questions of even commonly regarded truths. There are extracurriculars unique to Noble Bell as well... Hand Bell Club, Choir Club, and more.

"The student population is not large enough to justify several dormitories or the implementation of dorm leaders. Instead, Noble Bell has a student council. In addition to governance, they also serve as the go-between for students and staff, relaying any issues from peers and working with administration to resolve those issues. It is a very different system than Night Raven, but it has proven quite efficient for their needs.

"It is not only the student council with their share of duties to fulfill. Every student is expected to participate in the daily ritual of cleaning the campus. There is a rotating schedule, with students assuming new chores each day. Even the gargoyles at the top of the bell tower are carefully tended to. Many students engage in charity and volunteer work too—Noble Bell is very involved in its local community.”

“Wow, the culture of NBC sounds so different from NRC,” you marveled. “Every arcane academy has its own quirks!”

“Indeed.” Trein went for another sip of soup. “Perhaps someday you will have the opportunity to visit more of them. There are a number of institutions beyond Night Raven College, and many insights to glean from each of them. Why, Royal Sword Academy is just on the other end of Sage’s Island.”

Your heart fluttered with newfound excitement.

“You really think the headmaster would let me go over there?”

“I don’t see why not. We instructors should encourage our students’ curiosity, not stifle it—and it seems to me that you’ve plenty of curiosity to spare.”

“Mrrrow.”

Trein’s eyes flicked to his familiar. “You see? Lucius agrees. You have potential as a scholar. Noble Bell College would have happily welcomed you among its ranks.”

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #Mozus Trein #Lucius #Reader #self insert #sing sweet nightingale #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #glorious masquerade spoilers

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sucker4mafia · 4 months ago

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━━━ 'CHAPTER SEVEN' [ETERNAL NIGHT]

SYNOPSIS ➢ safe to say, you might want to see a shrink at this point.

PAIRING ➢ poly!enhypen x male!reader, sim jaehyun x male! reader, park sunghoon x male!reader, yang jungwon x male!reader

AU ➢ strangers-to-lovers au! x enemies-to-lovers au! x vampire au!

CONTENT WARNING ➢ this chapter contains; some angst, feelings of being uncomfortable, fear, being chased, disgust, nonconsensual conversation, mentions of blood-drinking, mentions of gore, blood, cannibalism [let me know if i missed any!]

PREVIOUS I NEXT

the first shadow of dusk crept over the eternal academy's sprawling campus, woonggi, sunoo, and you huddled together, your tired eyes a testament to the sleepless day you’d just endured. your trio had sacrificed rest to concoct a plan, fueled by determination and a dash of desperation. today was white day, a celebration infamous among young adults for its lavish gift-giving and professions of eternal love. even the vampire students of eternal academy weren't immune to its allure, and the atmosphere was electric with anticipation. amidst the whirlwind of romantic gestures and sugary sweet sentiments, woonggi, sunoo, and you had more pressing concerns – like survival.

sunoo's eyes darted around the room, ensuring they were alone, before he discreetly handed you a small, intricately etched blade. the delicate weapon, adorned with the markings of a werewolf's fangs, seemed almost fragile in your palm. "keep this hidden, under your pants, just in case," sunoo whispered, his voice laced with a mix of concern and urgency. you turned the blade over, studying it carefully, before looking up at sunoo with a questioning gaze. "is that real silver?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

meanwhile, woonggi was busy working his magic on your hair, expertly wielding a curling wand to create soft, flowing waves. "stop moving, y/n!" woonggi scolded, his eyes fixed intently on the strands of hair he was carefully curling. "i'm almost done, and i don't want to burn you." despite the tension in the air, woonggi's teasing tone was a welcome distraction, and you couldn't help but smile as you carefully tucked the silver blade into your waistband.

sunoo beamed with pride as he replied, "of course it is." he settled in beside you, watching with interest as woonggi worked on your hair. "my cousin from beezlebett gave it to me," sunoo explained, his voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude. "she always says you never know when a werewolf might be lurking around." woonggi let out a dismissive laugh, but it faltered mid-breath as a flicker of concern crossed his face. "werewolves can't reach us here, though...can they?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of unease.

you ignored woonggi's question and turned your attention to sunoo, seeking clarification. "you want me to use this on hyunwoo?" you asked, your eyes locked on sunoo's. sunoo's expression turned serious, and he shrugged slightly. "only if he tries anything, and we're not around to intervene. the white day ball is going to be packed, and we'll try to stay close, but it's always better to be prepared." with that, sunoo helped you secure the knife to your thigh, the cool metal pressing against your skin as he carefully strapped it into place. he then assisted you into your flowy white pants, the fabric draping elegantly over the hidden blade.

you let out a soft sigh as you gazed at your reflection in the mirror. the elaborate hairstyle, courtesy of woonggi's skilled hands, and the elegant outfit had transformed you, making you appear more vibrant, more alive. sunoo's voice cut through your reverie, his tone laced with a hint of exasperation. "it's not going to kill him, if that's what's worrying you." woonggi nodded in agreement, his expression reassuring. "true, it'll just hurt him for a bit. and he's a pure-blood, so he can handle it." despite their attempts to alleviate your concerns, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. you knew that reporting hyunwoo wouldn't be straightforward; in vampire society, informing on another vampire was viewed with disdain.

vampires were already perceived as malevolent beings, and snitching on one of their own only served to reinforce that notion. for a half-blood like yourself, being seen as a snitch could have dire consequences, making it even more challenging to navigate the treacherous world of vampire politics.

sunoo's voice was steady and reassuring as he reiterated the plan. "remember, all you have to do is get him to admit that he poisoned the flowers with that magic liquid to manipulate you into sleeping with him, and to get vital-drunk on your blood." he handed you your phone like it was no big deal, and you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the task ahead. "right, okay," you replied, sitting up straighter, a surge of determination coursing through your veins. you muttered to yourself, a quiet affirmation of your capabilities. "i am more than capable... i do not fear any pure-blood."

woonggi's voice interrupted your thoughts, his tone cheerful as he declared, "all done!" he spritzed a light mist of hairspray to set your wavy locks in place. the hairstyle was perfect, capturing the innocent and sweet look you, sunoo, and woonggi had discussed earlier. as you all made your way out of the dorm room, sunoo paused to take a few photos of the three of you together. you smiled, feeling confident and united with your friends. with arms linked, you strolled towards the hall where the nightly announcements were held.

the atmosphere was lively, with many boys milling about, dressed in their finest white and black attire. the air was electric with excitement, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervous anticipation as you made your way into the crowded hall.

as you entered the hall, the din of conversation and laughter enveloped you, making your heart beat slightly faster. you scanned the room, taking in the sea of elegant outfits and carefully styled hairdos. the atmosphere was alive with the promise of romance and possibility, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement mixed with nerves.

sunoo and woonggi flanked you, their presence a reassuring reminder that you weren't alone in this. together, the three of you made your way through the crowds, exchanging smiles and nods with familiar faces.

as you walked, you caught sight of hyunwoo standing by the refreshments, a glass of crimson liquid in hand. his eyes met yours, and he flashed a charming smile, his fangs glinting in the light. you felt a shiver run down your spine as he raised his glass in a silent toast, his eyes never leaving yours.

"showtime," sunoo whispered, his voice barely audible over the music and chatter. woonggi gave your arm a gentle squeeze, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

you smiled back at hyunwoo, trying to appear nonchalant despite the butterflies in your stomach. as you made your way over to him, you could feel sunoo and woonggi's eyes on you, their silent encouragement giving you the strength to keep going.

"hyunwoo," you said, your voice light and airy, as you reached his side. "you look stunning tonight." he chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and handed you a glass of the crimson liquid.

"thank you, y/n," he replied, his voice low and smooth. "you look breathtaking yourself. i must say, i'm loving the new hairstyle." his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he raised his glass to his lips, his fangs glinting in the light. to your left, you saw sunoo and woonggi mingling with a group of students, their eyes flicking towards you every now and then. you knew they were waiting for your signal, waiting for hyunwoo to slip up so you could catch him in the act. you took a sip of the drink, trying to appear relaxed, and leaned in closer to hyunwoo. "so, tell me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "what's the plan for tonight?"

with a subtle movement, you slid your hand into your pocket and discreetly pressed the record button on your phone. the soft click was masked by the music and chatter surrounding you, and hyunwoo didn't seem to notice. you continued to smile and lean in, your eyes locked on his, as you waited for his response. the phone, now silently recording, was a reassuring weight in your pocket, capturing every word of the conversation. you had to be careful, though - one misstep, and hyunwoo might discover your plan. but for now, you were in control, and the recording device was your secret ally.

hyunwoo's eyes sparkled with amusement as he replied, "oh, i think we can come up with something suitably... entertaining." his voice was laced with innuendo, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. you maintained your smile, trying not to reveal your true feelings.

"i'm sure we can," you said, playing along, as you took another sip of the crimson liquid. the recording device in your pocket seemed to be working, capturing every word of the conversation. you hoped that hyunwoo would slip up soon, revealing his true intentions.

as you continued to chat, you noticed sunoo and woonggi hovering at the edge of the crowd, their eyes fixed on you with a mixture of concern and encouragement. you gave them a subtle nod, reassuring them that everything was under control... for now.

you gazed up at hyunwoo, a hint of playful confusion dancing in your eyes. "you know, i'm a bit confused," you said, gently swirling the contents of your glass. the crimson liquid swirled hypnotically, but your focus remained fixed on hyunwoo. "i thought you were taking me on a date. unless, you meant us staying here with every other lonely vampire." your voice was laced with a subtle edge, a hint of disappointment and curiosity.

hyunwoo's response was immediate, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he chuckled. "well, darling," he said, his voice low and smooth. the nickname, once a term of endearment that made your heart flutter, now sent a shiver of revulsion down your spine. you forced a smile, maintaining the facade of a carefree, flirtatious vampire. but beneath the surface, your mind was racing, waiting for hyunwoo to reveal his true intentions. the recording device in your pocket remained silent, capturing every word of the conversation.

hyunwoo's chuckle sent a wave of unease through you, but you maintained your smile, playing along. "i had something a bit more... exclusive in mind," he continued, his eyes glinting with amusement. "a private dinner, just the two of us. somewhere quiet, where we can get to know each other better." his voice was laced with suggestion, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

you raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. "oh? and where did you have in mind?" you asked, your voice light and curious. the recording device in your pocket continued to capture every word, and you hoped that hyunwoo would soon reveal his true intentions.

hyunwoo's smile grew wider, his fangs glinting in the light. "somewhere special," he said, his voice low and mysterious. "somewhere we can be alone."

"alone, you say?" you repeated, your voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. your eyes darted towards sunoo and woonggi, seeking reassurance, but they were both distracted by the attention of their admirers. jay had appeared out of nowhere, bearing a small, elegantly wrapped gift, which sunoo was accepting with a charming smile. meanwhile, woonggi's boytoy from the other day had returned, this time bearing a bouquet of white lilies, which woonggi was admiring with a pleased grin.

your friends were oblivious to your growing unease, too caught up in their own little moments of romance. you felt a pang of anxiety, realizing you were on your own in this situation. hyunwoo's eyes seemed to gleam with amusement, as if he knew exactly what was going through your mind. "yes, alone," he repeated, his voice low and husky.

you felt a surge of adrenaline as hyunwoo's words hung in the air, his eyes locked on yours with an unnerving intensity. the music and laughter surrounding you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment of tense anticipation.

"i'm not sure that's such a good idea," you said, trying to sound casual despite the growing unease in your chest. "i mean, we're in the middle of a crowded hall. wouldn't it be more... fun to stay and enjoy the party?" you forced a smile, hoping to deflect hyunwoo's intentions, as you go back on your word.

but hyunwoo just seemed confused and chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "oh, i think we can find something far more... enjoyable to do," he said, his voice dripping with suggestion. "trust me, darling. you won't regret it." he believes youre trying to play hard to get.

"well, let me just tell my friends really quick so they don't look for me," you said, attempting to casually extricate yourself from the situation. but as you tried to walk past hyunwoo, he swiftly reached out and grasped your arm, his fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist. you felt a jolt of surprise, and before you could react, a tiny spark of electricity leapt from your skin to hyunwoo's, causing him to yelp in pain. "yow!" he exclaimed, releasing his grip on your arm as if burned.

you feigned apology, trying to downplay the incident. "oh, sorry! i'm so sorry!" you batted your eyelashes, attempting to appear contrite, all the while thinking that this little shock might just be the distraction you needed. a few nearby vampires had noticed the exchange, their eyes flicking towards you with interest. hyunwoo, still nursing his stinging hand, raised an eyebrow as he regarded you with newfound curiosity. "you're a sparky one, aren't ya?" he asked, his voice tinged with amusement, as he waved his hand in the air, trying to dissipate the lingering pain.

you smiled sheepishly, trying to play off the incident. "i guess i am," you said, shrugging your shoulders. "sorry again about that." you glanced around, noticing that the nearby vampires were still watching you with interest. you could feel their eyes on you, sensing the spark of electricity that had leapt from your skin.

hyunwoo's eyes seemed to gleam with amusement as he regarded you. "no need to apologize," he said, his voice low and smooth. "i find it... intriguing." he took a step closer to you, his eyes locked on yours. "perhaps we can explore this... spark further?" he suggested, his voice dripping with suggestion.

you tried to hold yourself from rolling your eyes as you realized where this was going. you needed to think fast, to come up with a way to deflect hyunwoo's advances without arousing his suspicion. but before you could respond, a voice cut through the din of the party, "y/n!" you turned hesitantly, unsure if you'd actually heard your name. but as you scanned the crowd, you saw jaeyun pushing his way through a group of admirers, his polite smiles and nods a stark contrast to the eager hands reaching out to grab him.

"jaeyun?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.

hyunwoo's head snapped towards you, his eyes narrowing as he tried to follow your line of sight. "who?" he leaned in, his breath whispering against your ear.

you hesitated, unsure how to respond. but before you could say anything, jaeyun finally broke through the crowd and jogged over to you. his hair was styled differently, the middle part more prominent, framing his face as he tucked the rest of his hair behind his ears. he looked handsome, regal even, in his all-black luxurious outfit.

"hey," jaeyun said softly, his smile genuine as he stood up straight, his eyes locked on yours. "you look...." he gestured towards you, his smile faltering for a moment as he took in the sight of you.

you felt a flush rise to your cheeks at the compliment, but before you could respond, hyunwoo's hand wrapped around your waist, his fingers digging possessively into your skin. hyunwoo's grip on your waist was like a vice, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer to him. you felt a surge of discomfort at the possessive gesture, and your eyes flicked up to jaeyun's face, hoping to convey your unease. jaeyun's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the sight of hyunwoo's hand on your waist. his gaze locked onto hyunwoo's, a flicker of tension passing between them. "hello," jaeyun said. "i didn't know you were... escorting y/n tonight."

hyunwoo's smile was a thin, cruel line. "oh, i'm just making sure he’s... taken care of," he said, his voice dripping with malice. his grip on your waist tightened, and you felt a yourself push away.

you pushed hyunwoo's hand away, trying to create some distance between you. "it's getting a little hot in the hall already," you said, forcing a laugh. "i think i need some air." hyunwoo's face fell, his eyes narrowing in disappointment. but he didn't push the issue, instead nodding curtly and stepping back. "very well," he said. "i'll give you some space."

"no, you're fine," you told hyunwoo with a nervous laugh, trying to brush off the awkwardness. but your eyes darted towards jaeyun, who was still watching you with a confused and concerned expression. you took a deep breath and tried to diffuse the tension by making introductions. "jaeyun, this is hyunwoo," you said, gesturing towards hyunwoo. "hyunwoo, this is jaeyun."

hyunwoo's face broke into a charming smile as he extended a hand towards jaeyun. "pleasure to meet you," he said, his voice smooth as silk. jaeyun's expression remained guarded, but he politely shook hyunwoo's hand. "likewise," he said, his voice neutral. the tension between the two was palpable, and you could sense the underlying current of hostility. you wondered what jaeyun had been told about hyunwoo, and whether he knew about jungwon's warning.

as you glanced around the crowded hall, you turned to jaeyun and asked, "hey, did jungwon come?" jaeyun's face broke into a mischievous grin. "oh, yeah, grumpy cat is gonna come later," he said, his voice low and amused. you couldn't help but laugh at jaeyun's nickname for jungwon. "grumpy cat?" you repeated, chuckling.

jaeyun's grin faltered for a moment, and he looked around nervously before leaning in closer. "don't tell him i told you that," he whispered, his eyes sparkling with mirth. he laughed and scratched the back of his neck, looking adorably sheepish.

just as you were enjoying the lighthearted moment with jaeyun, hyunwoo interrupted, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent of possessiveness. "it was nice meeting you, jaeyun," he said, his eyes glinting with a hint of challenge. "but i'm afraid y/n and i have plans. we had already discussed going on a date tonight, and he graciously agreed." hyunwoo's gaze locked onto yours, his eyes daring you to contradict him. "we were just about to head out, actually," he continued, his voice dripping with confidence. "so, if you'll excuse us..."

jaeyun's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at hyunwoo, then at you, a hint of surprise and confusion on his face. "oh, i didn't know that," he said, his voice neutral, but you could sense a hint of tension beneath the surface. hyunwoo's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with triumph. "yes, well, we didn't want to make a big announcement," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "but i'm sure you understand. y/n and i have a lot to... discuss."

jaeyun's gaze locked onto yours, his eyes searching for some kind of confirmation or denial. you felt a surge of discomfort, knowing that you had to think fast to get out of this situation. but before you could say anything, jaeyun nodded curtly and took a step back. "well, have fun on your date, then," he said, his voice cool and detached. hyunwoo pulled you along, leading you out of the crowded hall and the hallways. you stumbled slightly, trying to keep up with his long strides.

hyunwoo pulled you through the deserted halls, whistling a jaunty tune as he went. you looked back over your shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the ball, but it was too far away now. you couldn't see jaeyun, woonggi, or sunoo anywhere, and a shiver ran down your spine as you realized you were truly alone with hyunwoo. "maybe we should head back," you suggested, trying to sound casual despite the growing sense of unease in your chest.

hyunwoo chuckled and shushed you, his hand on your waist guiding you to match his pace. "i know you want to be alone," he said, his voice low and smooth. "no one will interrupt us anymore, i promise you that." you felt a surge of alarm at his words, and you tried to think of a way to extricate yourself from the situation. you remembered the silver blade on your thigh, and a spark of inspiration struck. "actually, i'm still feeling a bit ill from a few days ago," you said, trying to sound weak and fragile. hyunwoo's grip on your waist tightened, his eyes glinting with concern. "ouchy," he cooed. "we'll get you all fixed up, don't worry." but his words only made you feel more trapped, and you knew you had to think fast if you were going to get out of this situation alive.

meanwhile, jungwon strolled through the crowded ball, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he walked side by side with a decidedly sheepish-looking sunghoon. sunghoon's usual nonchalant demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a nervous energy that made him look like he was scared to be seen.

"stand up straight, you look better now than before," jungwon said, his voice quiet, as he gazed straight ahead, seemingly unbothered by the commotion surrounding them. sunghoon muttered under his breath, his hands fussing with his hair, which now framed his face and exposed his forehead. his heterochromatic eyes, normally hidden behind a pair of glasses, sparkled with annoyance as he tried to adjust to his new look. "my hair feels too weird," he grumbled, his anger and frustration palpable.

jungwon's expression remained neutral, his eyes fixed on some point ahead, but a hint of amusement danced in his voice. "you're just not used to being seen," he teased, his tone light and playful.

sunghoon's scowl deepened, but he said nothing, merely continuing to fiddle with his hair as they walked. jungwon's gaze flicked to sunghoon's face, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, before he returned his attention to the path ahead. despite his nonchalant demeanor, jungwon's eyes were constantly scanning their surroundings, his mind focused on their mission to investigate, rather than indulging in the frivolities of the white day ball.

as they walked, jungwon's eyes scanned the crowd, his gaze lingering on the various students and guests. his expression remained neutral, but his eyes seemed to bore into those they passed, as if searching for something or someone.

sunghoon, still fidgeting with his hair, glanced up at jungwon with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. "what's wrong?" he asked, his voice low.

jungwon's gaze flicked back to sunghoon, his expression unreadable. "nothing," he replied, his voice even. "just making sure we're not missing anything." sunghoon raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, his eyes dropping back to his hair as he continued to fuss with it. jungwon's gaze lingered on sunghoon for a moment, before returning to the crowd, his eyes scanning the sea of faces with an intensity that made sunghoon sigh.

just as jungwon and sunghoon were about to turn a corner, jaeyun appeared, his face a mask of concern. his eyes, usually bright and warm, were clouded with worry, and his brow was furrowed in a deep frown. "hey, have you guys seen y/n?" he asked, his voice low and urgent, his words tumbling out in a rush. "i was just talking to him, and then hyunwoo took him out of nowhere."

jungwon's eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto jaeyun's face with an intensity that made jaeyun take a step back. "what happened?" jungwon asked, his voice sharp, his tone commanding. jaeyun hesitated, his eyes darting between jungwon and sunghoon. he seemed to be choosing his words carefully, his expression cautious. "hyunwoo said something about them having a date," he explained, his voice measured, "and then they just... left. i tried to follow them, but i lost them in the crowd."

sunghoon's eyes widened, his face pale. "date?" he asked, his voice rising in alarm, his eyes darting wildly between jaeyun and jungwon. "how? doesn't he know-" jungwon's expression turned grim, his jaw clenched in anger. he raised a hand, silencing sunghoon with a curt gesture. "where did they go?" he demanded, his voice low and deadly, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity.

jaeyun shook his head, his eyes filled with worry. "i don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "i tried to follow them, but like i said, i lost them in the crowd. i'm sorry. i should have done something to stop him." the three of them stood there for a moment, their faces tense with concern, their minds racing with worst-case scenarios. then, without a word, jungwon turned and strode off, sunghoon and jaeyun following close behind, their long strides eating up the distance as they set out to track down hyunwoo and rescue y/n from his clutches.

hyunwoo strolls down the hallway, his steps slow, deliberate. without warning, he leans in, his nose grazing the air just above your hair, inhaling with a smirk. the idea of him this close makes your stomach twist, but you swallow it down, keeping your expression steady. "bless the demons who made you," he groans, voice dripping with something that makes your skin crawl. you let out a laugh, light but forced, shoving him away just enough to create space. "you're such a flirt, hyunwoo.” you go to quickly change the subject, “actually, i wanted to thank you about the flowers you gave me. they were beautiful." your voice is sweet, teasing, but you’re fishing—for something specific. his eyes flick to you, that familiar smile curling his lips. once, it had been charming. now, odd. "you liked 'em, huh?"

"yeah, they were so unique. where’d you even get them?" your hand slips into your pocket, fingers brushing against your phone, making sure it's in place—recording. he doesn't answer right away. you’re so focused on his response, you don’t notice as he subtly changes course, leading you right toward his dorm. his fingers work at the lock. "geez, i can't really remember." a lie. you can hear it in the way his voice dips, the way his body stills for just a second too long. he’s holding something back. your stomach twists, but you don’t let it show. instead, you let out a soft chuckle, shifting your weight onto one foot, like you're just making casual conversation. "can't remember? come on, hyunwoo. they were so rare… i've never seen flowers like that before." you say. his fingers pause on the doorknob, just for a second, just long enough for you to notice before he turns it and steps inside. "guess i just have a knack for finding pretty things." his voice is smooth, playful, but there's something else there, something just beneath the surface. you hesitate at the doorway, a small part of you screaming not to go in. but you step forward anyway, keeping close to the doorframe, keeping your exit in sight. your fingers press against your phone in your pocket, making sure it’s still recording.

his dorm is dimly lit, the air thick with something that smells faintly sweet—like vanilla, but with an edge of something bitter. the curtains are drawn, shutting out the hallway light. his desk is cluttered, but not in a messy way—more like he’s been in the middle of something, pages scattered, a single candle flickering. he watches you with that same unreadable smirk as he pushes the door shut behind you. "so mysterious," you say, forcing a teasing lilt into your voice, masking the way your pulse picks up. he chuckles, low and almost amused, moving toward his desk, fingers brushing over a book before flipping it shut. "you think too much, you know that?" you shift slightly, keeping him in your line of sight. "maybe. or maybe you don’t think enough."

his smile falters for just a breath before he regains it, his head tilting slightly. "what are you trying to say?" your fingers tighten around your phone. you take a slow step back, just slightly. "just that… those flowers? i looked them up." you keep your voice light, almost curious, but you watch him carefully. "couldn’t find anyone that let people order them from the academy." you hesitantly say. his expression doesn’t change at first. then, slowly, that smirk stretches wider, something in his eyes shifting. "maybe you’re looking in the wrong places." something about the way he says it makes your blood run cold.

a chill runs down your spine, but you keep your posture relaxed, forcing yourself to stay composed. the air in the room feels heavier now, like the walls are pressing in, like something unseen lingers beneath the surface of this conversation. "wrong places?" you echo, keeping your voice even, curious—but not too curious. you don't want him to know you’re onto something. hyunwoo leans against the edge of his desk, arms crossing over his chest. the candlelight flickers against his sharp features, casting shadows along his jawline. "yeah," he says smoothly, tilting his head. "some things… aren’t meant to be found so easily." your fingers tighten around your phone in your pocket. "interesting," you murmur, stepping further into the room, scanning for anything out of place. your eyes flick to the desk—papers scattered, some stacked neatly, but one slightly askew catches your attention. beneath it, a glimpse of something deep black, a petal perhaps.

hyunwoo follows your gaze before pushing himself off the desk, blocking your view. "why so curious all of a sudden?" he asks, his voice lighter now, amused even, but his eyes—his eyes are watching you too closely. you shrug, keeping your movements slow, calculated. "just thought it was strange. i mean, flowers that unique should have a birthplace, right?" you take another step back, closer to the door. "or at least be in some database. but nothing. not even a similar species." he exhales through his nose, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "maybe they're just special," he says, voice smooth as silk. "yeah, maybe." you glance at the door, debating whether to leave now or push further, but before you can decide, he moves toward a shelf near his bed, running his fingers along the spines of several books. then, as if remembering something, he plucks one from the row and tosses it onto the desk.

"here," he says, stepping aside. “since you're so interested, take a look." you hesitate, then step closer, eyeing the worn leather cover. there’s no title, just an embossed pattern that looks almost floral. you flip it open, the pages yellowed with age, inked with careful handwriting. at first, it looks like botanical notes—sketches of flowers, descriptions of their uses—but then, as you turn a few more pages, the words shift. "feeding ritual application: inducing hallucinations, extracting lust, binding intentions." your pulse jumps. the sketches grow stranger—flowers intertwined with symbols, roots tangled around something that looks unsettlingly like bones. hyunwoo watches you with that same smirk, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "still think they’re just flowers?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

your breath catches, but you don’t let your expression falter. instead, you let your fingers trail over the aged paper, pretending to be fascinated rather than unnerved. "this is… interesting," you murmur, flipping another page. the inked sketches become darker, more intricate. twisted vines, petals that seem to bleed into the parchment. beneath one drawing, a description stands out in sharp, precise handwriting: "bloomed under the wrong hands, these flowers do not wither. they linger a spell." your stomach tightens. "where did you get this?" your voice is steady, but you don’t look at him. not yet. hyunwoo hums, stepping closer yet too close. you can feel the warmth of his presence at your side, can hear the soft rustle of his clothing as he moves. "a gift," he says, his tone light, casual. but when you glance at him, his eyes are dark with something unreadable.

your fingers press into the edge of the book. "who gave it to you?" his smile widens just slightly. "you ask a lot of questions." your heartbeat ticks faster, but you force a smirk, finally meeting his gaze head-on. "you avoid a lot of answers." for a moment, the room is silent except for the soft crackle of the candle’s flame. then, he laughs. low, quiet, as if the two of you are sharing some private joke. "fair, darling" he concedes, stepping away at last. he leans against his desk again, watching you with something almost... entertained. “let’s just say, someone thought i’d appreciate it. and they were right."

"so you believe this stuff?" you press, tapping a finger against the text. his smile lingers, but there’s something sharp underneath it. "don’t you?" you swallow, turning another page. more symbols, more sketches, but this time, beneath one of the drawings—one that looks eerily similar to the bouquet he gave you—there’s a note scrawled in smaller handwriting: "do not inhale. do not touch bare skin. do not—" the rest is smudged, blurred as if someone had deliberately tried to erase it. your skin prickles. hyunwoo watches, tilting his head. "what’s wrong?" your mind races. you think back to the flowers he gave you, how their scent had lingered on you longer than it should have, how the petals were impossibly fresh. you steady yourself, force a slow inhale. "nothing," you say, closing the book gently.

he studies you for a long moment, then smirks. "good, sweetie." but something in his expression tells you he knows that’s a lie. you inhale sharply, steadying yourself as you turn, leaning back against his desk. every nerve in your body is on high alert, but you force your muscles to relax, your posture to stay loose, as if you are unbothered. inside, though, panic coils tight in your chest. you glance toward the door, calculating the distance. too far.

if you ran now, you wouldn’t make it. so you don’t. you stay still. you act as though you are comfortable, as if the weight of his presence isn’t suffocating you.hyunwoo takes it as an invitation, his lips curling at the edges as he closes the space between you. he moves with that same effortless grace, slow and deliberate, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. his gaze never wavers from yours, dark and unreadable. your body screams at you to run, to fight, to react. but you don’t move. not yet.

your half-blood instincts hum beneath your skin, raw and primal, whispering to you like an unspoken promise of survival. your energy is depleted, but the urge to protect yourself flickers to life, sharpening your senses, making you hyper-aware of every breath, every movement. hyunwoo reaches out, his fingers ghosting over your hair, pushing a strand aside with a featherlight touch. “you’re gonna take my bite well, right, darling?” his voice is smooth, almost affectionate, but the hunger in it is unmistakable.

his hand trails lower, grazing the edge of your jaw, moving down to your throat. his touch is gentle, but there’s possession in it, as if he already sees you as his. what he doesn’t see is your fingers slipping underneath your pants. he also doesn’t notice is the cool silver pressing against your palm, small but deadly.

his fangs extend, glinting in the dim light, and he takes one final step forward, his breath warm against your skin, and then you strike. the knife sinks into his ribs with a sharp, precise thrust. hyunwoo’s reaction is instant, a sound erupts from his throat, something between a screech and a snarl, raw and guttural. his body jerks violently, his back slamming into the wall with a sickening crack. his fingers claw at the wound, his breath shuddering as a thick, viscous substance oozes between them. his face contorts, sharp features twisting in pain, in disbelief. he looks down at his own hand, watching the dark liquid stain his skin, spreading like ink. you dont hesitate with the book clutched in one hand and your knife still slick in the other, you lunge for the door, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. your fingers wrap around the knob, twisting it desperately. then you make the mistake of looking back. hyunwoo is still pressed against the wall, his body rigid, his breathing uneven. but his focus isn’t on you.

his eyes are locked on his hand, watching the black substance drip between his fingers. something flickers across his face—shock, confusion, something else you can’t quite place. then, slowly, his lips curl back, his fangs gleam as his expression twists into something almost amused, almost intrigued. suddenly, his body was no longer visible, a sharp gasp catches in your throat. your eyes dart wildly around the room, your pulse a hammering rhythm in your chest. the air shifts, electric with something unseen, something wrong.

your instincts scream to move as you rip the door open and bolt. your feet pound against the floor as you sprint down the hallway, gripping the book tightly in one hand, the knife firm in the other. “help! anyone!” your voice shatters the eerie silence, bouncing off the walls as you run. no one answers you as the hallway stretches before you, empty, unnaturally still. no doors creak open, no voices call out. it’s as if the entire dormitory has been swallowed by something unseen, something watching. your lungs burn, your legs ache, but you don’t stop. because somewhere behind you, lurking just out of sight, you know hyunwoo is still there.

your breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps as you push forward, your feet sliding against the polished floor as you turn sharply into another hallway. the dormitory is a maze, a series of corridors you once knew by heart, but now—now everything feels wrong. the walls seem to stretch, the doors blur together, and the path you once memorized twists into something unfamiliar.

you need to get back to the ballroom, to focus, but panic grips you like a vice. your body moves on instinct, dodging left, sprinting forward, and pushing past the ache in your lungs. you force yourself to ignore the way the overhead lights flicker, casting fleeting shadows that seem to shift in the corners of your vision. a crash occurs behind you, something slams against the floor behind you.

you don’t look back as the hairs on your arms stand on end as the sound repeats, bookshelves toppling, chairs scraping violently against the floor, and doors slamming shut one by one as if something is chasing you, forcing you forward. however, you don’t stop while your legs burn as you sprint faster, slipping around corners, gripping onto the walls to steady yourself as you nearly lose your footing. another turn was indeed another long, stretching corridor. the grand double doors of the ballroom should be ahead by now. they should be close. but they’re not.

a sharp chill crawls up your spine as you couldnt recall where they ly. the halls begin to blur together, identical in their emptiness, their suffocating silence. your chest tightens. the air feels thinner, the space around you warping with every step, just the. a whisper in the abyss, that was low, taunting, and too close. "stop being such a prude, you can’t run forever, darling."

your stomach drops as it is now noticeable that hyunwoo is in fact hunting you. your fingers tighten around the book, your other hand still gripping the small silver knife, slick with his blackened blood. you do not slow down, you cannot. you throw yourself into the next hallway, heart pounding in your ears, lungs burning, vision blurring that caused your foot to slip. the ground rushes up to meet you as your knee scrapes against the hard floor. the book nearly tumbles from your grasp. pain sparks through your leg, but you bite down a curse, forcing yourself to scramble forward.

your fingers tremble as you push yourself up, forcing your legs to move, ignoring the sting in your knee. you take off again, your breaths uneven, your mind screaming at you to find the exit, find the ballroom, to find safety. you barely have time to register the sudden force hitting you from the side. one moment, you're running, desperate to escape, and the next, your body is weightless, thrown off course as something—someone—tackles you to the ground.

it doesnt feel violent yet still you brace yourself for the harsh impact, expecting the unforgiving floor to slam against your back, but instead, you're caught, held. whoever tackled you twists mid-air, their grip firm yet controlled, and when you finally land, your fall is cushioned, not by the ground, but by the body beneath you. your chest heaves, your breath stuck in your throat as your mind races. for a moment, you can't move. you can't think. your fingers tighten around the book, your knife still in your grasp, ready to strike if necessary. slowly, hesitantly, you open your eyes and your breath catches. just inches from yours, a pair of almost glowing green eyes stare at you, sharp and burning with something unreadable. anger? frustration? relief?

your faces are so close you can’t immediately make out who it is. his features blur together—sharp cheekbones, tousled dark hair, parted lips, fangs peeking out. your heart hammers wildly, unsure whether to be afraid or relieved. but before you can react, he moves with almost unbelievable speed, he flips your positions, swift but careful, controlled but protective. he shifts his weight, shielding you completely beneath his large, solid frame. his arms press into the floor beside your head, creating a barrier, his presence overwhelming, almost suffocating in its intensity.

suddenly as it was, you recognize the boy, jaehyun and jungwon’s friend. sunghoon, someone you’ve seen lingering in the shadows, always watching but never speaking. someone who was always there, yet somehow invisible. this look was different, you never seen him dressed so sharply, his usually concealed features now fully visible. never noticed the sharp lines of his jaw, the almost ethereal glow of his skin under the dim lights. and certainly never seen his fangs bared like this. your breath stutters as your gaze drops lower to see two set of fangs on top and bottom, baring. stomach tightens as you know that two set of fangs werent common in vampires but in something else.

werewolves.

your eyes widen, but before you can speak, another voice slices through the thick tension. "sunghoon, enough." your head snaps to the side to see, standing just a few feet away, jungwon towers over hyunwoo’s crumpled form. his expression is unreadable, his foot pressed firmly against hyunwoo’s back, keeping him pinned to the ground. hyunwoo snarls beneath him, but he doesn’t move. he can’t. because just beside him, jaehyun stands, his palm raised, fingers curled around a flickering ball of fire. the flames dance, crackling softly, reflecting in jaehyun’s dark eyes as he stares down at hyunwoo with cold calculation.

one wrong move, and he will set him ablaze. hyunwoo must know it too, because for the first time tonight, he stays still.

58 notes · View notes

jeffffffffest · 17 days ago

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JeFFFFFFFFest 2025 Gift Exchange

This exchange is for fanworks based on Jeff Satur’s music videos and related media.

‘Related media’ includes characters such as the rain god from Jeff’s Halloween fan art Instagram post, or the fallen angel from Call Me by Fire. A primer of Jeff’s related music videos with links can be found on this tumblr post, and a resource list with links to media will be available in the Discord server (link to join).

While all Jeffs may be used as visual/auditory/character inspiration, characters from acting roles (KinnPorsche, He She It, Ingredients) are not the focus of this event. Crossovers such as Kim/Sunshine are in the spirit of the event, but a direct KinnPorsche fanwork is not.

Why JeFFFFFFFFest?

Is it because of all of the Jeffs possibly named Jeff? Is it because that’s how we’re feeling after each new release (F!)? Is it because they represent all of the Fun Fabulous Fanworks we’ll be creating? Yes. (There are eight Fs for Space Shuttle No. 8, if you care.)

This exchange is open to all types of fanworks, including text, visual art, audio, and video. The sign-up form will prompt you to list which types of fanworks you’d like to offer and receive. Everyone will be matched with a recipient who meets their fanwork types and prompts as closely as possible. Assignments will remain private until the collection is revealed, so please keep that information secret from your recipient!

You are only required to create one fanwork, in the medium of your choosing. If your recipient requests visual art or written text, you can choose which type of fanwork to create based on their prompts and what inspires you the most. If you’re inspired to create multiple fanworks, that’s a bonus, but not expected or required.

Once assignments are sent out, a channel will be opened in the Discord server for people to share their prompts if they choose. You’re welcome to create additional fanworks as 'treats' based on those prompts and submit them to the AO3 collection. There’s no limit to how many prompts you can fill or how many works you can create!

After the reveal, there will be a 'remix round' for fanworks inspired by the posted exchange works. This is a free-for-all where anything goes! You can make fanvids inspired by art, record podfics of written works, or anything else that inspires you. You can opt out of or limit your participation in this round with a permission statement.

Both the 'treat' and 'remix' rounds are completely optional, and as such we encourage you to create anything, no matter how small or how unfamiliar you are with that form of fanwork! This is a great place for fanworks like moodboards, fanmixes/playlists, and anything else that doesn't fit in the main gift exchange. Of course, large prompt fills are also welcome!

Rules

Please bring complaints or concerns privately to the exchange mods; we're here to help make this a positive experience for everyone! A complaint form (anonymous by choice) can be found here, or feel free to reach out to a mod on discord or tumblr. Respect all DNWs (including requests for no NSFW content) and include appropriate content warnings in posts and discussions; when in doubt, at a minimum, AO3 warnings should always be tagged/warned, or talk to a mod if you're unsure. To ensure that artist credit is always appropriately given, the use of AI and/or gifting AI-generated content is strictly prohibited.

Bigotry and harassment of any kind will not be tolerated. Respect and be mindful of all fellow community members.

If you have questions for your recipient or about the exchange in general, please contact one of the mod team. If you need to drop out for any reason, please let the mods know as soon as possible. Your moderators for this event are @airgiodslv, @mousydentist, and @shubaka (on discord and tumblr).*

*To the best of our knowledge, none of the mods are secretly Jeff.

Clarifications for 2025 Exchange

Double-check the content of your work before the deadline. If you create a work that doesn’t honor your recipient’s DNWs, you may not be allowed to participate in future exchanges. If you have questions for your recipient about their prompts or DNWs, please reach out through their preferred contact method or contact a mod.

Make sure your work is complete by the deadline, not posted as a WIP or first chapter. Your gift can be multi-chapter, but all chapters should be posted by the deadline. You can always create a continuation later, but your gift should be a completed standalone fanwork.

Post your work to the AO3 collection by the deadline. We can reach out to pinch-hitters if you realize you’re not going to make the deadline, but we want to make sure they have enough time to brainstorm and create.

Schedule

Sign-ups: May 23-June 5

Assignments Out: June 9

Check-in: July 14

Deadline: July 31

Pinch-hits: August 1-August 7

Reveal: August 8

Remix round: August 8-22

For the most up to date information, please refer to this blog (posts tagged #logistics) and/or join our discord server. Also, we're aware that things happen! We want to make this event as fun as possible, so if you ever feel overwhelmed, please talk to a mod at any time about enlisting a pinch-hitter.

Our AO3 collection is here. Links to fics and posts made on other sites (eg, tumblr, twitter, archive.org) will be reblogged/cross-posted to this blog. If you don't want your gift to be on tumblr, please reach out to a mod ASAP so we can make other arrangements.

Sign-up Form

The sign-up form can be found here! Reminder that sign-ups will be open until June 5th.

Happy Jeff-ing everyone! 🪐

#sign-ups open now to june 5th #jeff satur #jeffcest #fandom event

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kurishiri · 4 months ago

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why team alice (as a whole) suffers compared to the others, other than the fact they r "starter routes"

DISCLAIMER: this post is not meant to undermine those who like team alice or any of the chars in that team; this is just a post i am making bc ive been thinking and theorizing a bit on especially why en doesnt seem to like will, harry, and liam as much as the other suitors as a whole. and i wanted to try to put it into words. but i'm also not really a professional when it comes to these matters and the statements i make boil down to my personal opinion (despite how i may phrase things), so take my words with a grain of salt. im open to hearing other opinions and welcome discussion, provided it remains civil!

long post + late night thoughts below

clarification: i am not including victor in this post as a part of this the aforementioned “team alice”, as i consider him a separate entity from the other teams altogether, symbolizing “the end” of fairytales, rather than a char of a fairytale. when sold in story sets, he often gets put into sets with team sleeping beauty anyway. i do acknowledge that victor is fairly often seen with william and harry, though in my personal opinion — and this may change with victor’s route release, who knows! — they do sort of fall short a bit for the same reason that i will mark with an asterisk (*) in this post.

especially ever since i started translating, and after al's route release, i feel ive become more conscious of the concept of "favoritism". even in the source material, favoritism is present to an almost painful degree. like, it wont take you long to realize liam literally has no (solo) 95k stories, while jude has the most out of the entire cast. which then leads to the question, which i ask as neutrally as i can: why? why is liam so unpopular? why is will not popular? or harry? and conversely, why is jude and ellis so popular? why does team alice seem less popular than the other teams? after some thinking…

basically, my thought just all boils down to the "lack of chemistry".

i dont think the issue lies so much with the chars themselves. i feel a lot of community doesnt really hate them as chars, they just like the others more. all that to say — will, harry, and liam r all charming in their own right.

they r good-looking, kind to kate, they r intelligent, they r all affected in some way by their curse, and they all possess development arcs especially following their main story, which i feel may be a symptom of the "starter route syndrome". where their main stories may fall a bit short, they may make up for in basically all of the following events. they r all flawed, thus making them feel human and authentic.

as individuals, they r all actually quite well rounded, in my opinion.

but when you look at them as a team or group, this is specifically where they fall apart.

the thing is — its not just abt the individual. its also abt how they see the things around them, how they interact with them; you can have very well-made chars, but if they don’t interact with others, how can we, as readers, get to know them? and of course, when i say "interact", this includes other chars in the cast. they say dialogue can make or break, and while there r some things team alice does well in dialogue, i think in other areas it also falls short.

now part of it may also be that the team as a whole didnt know each other before they all congregated at crown, while all the other teams have known each other in some way in the past, with team snow white (and, i think swan lake) especially having an extensive history. so i think in this sense, there is some inherent disadvantage team alice faces here at play as well. but this is not the only factor, considering they actually manage to tie liam and harry pretty well together as a combo. their friendship feels quite authentic.

as for will…we dont see all too many opportunities for him to interact much with harry (if they do, harry is often with someone else, like liam). but we know they r probably on good terms, though harry sometimes may feel a bit unsettled,,? by will. but the key is: they just dont interact much as a pair. in this sense, there is little opportunity to develop them as a pair, thus integrating will as a whole into the team. as for will and liam? these two share more interactions, but said interactions r not always executed very well, in my opinion*.

for example, will sort of treats liam like a cat. he even calls him a cat in dialogue. but thats all it seems to be between them. their dynamic feels somewhat flat, and it doesnt help that will is even opting to tell (rather than show) the reader what he thinks of liam, thus taking away the ability for the reader to dig deeper into their relationship. thus, it may feel harder to empathize, sympathize, or find it relatable — the chars dont reveal much abt each other. their dynamics feel surface level, so even though they have distinctive personalities, traits, and struggles, it feels like we r only getting half of them. bc again, much of how we get to know chars is their interactions, dialogues, and thoughts abt other chars, similar to how we cannot really understand ourselves without the presence of others (like the "looking-glass self" which sociologist cooley coined).

i probably sound like a broken record by now, but basically what i wanna say is there is not much of a good way to integrate will into the team — or the way they try to do so isnt done very well. the dynamic then may feel "incomplete", like drawing a half circle and attempting to call it a full circle.

to give a point of comparison, we can take a quick look at team snow white and sleeping beauty, looking at what made them relatively more successful compared to team alice. i wont be looking at team swan lake due to them being jp only chars (as of the making of this post) and also just not having much info on them. but, sometimes it does help to look at "successful" cases to better understand or feel what had fallen short.

TEAM SLEEPING BEAUTY

ok so, quick disclaimer: team sleeping beauty isnt really my strong suit (if yk me, im prettyy biased toward team snow white personally ndhjsffgjdjfjsg), so to speak. so if anyone else has anything to add here, feel free. but i will try my best.

basically, i think team sleeping beauty has one prevailing advantage over other teams, which is they r a two-man team.

they can keep the dynamic compact, if thats the word. there r physically less ppl to have to "integrate" into the team. in this team, it is centered around ellis and jude's relationship with each other. but to put it simply, they r foils — and the fact they use such a literary device in and of itself adds to their charm, specifically bc foils r meant to bring out each other’s similarities and differences…traits that we readers digest and can potentially empathize with.

one wants to make the other happy, obsessed with the notion of "happiness", while the other is basically cursed (as a byproduct) to never be the happiest. there is this theme of happiness revolving around those two, entangling them to a relationship that can inherently "never end". this in turn highlights ellis' tendency to "restrain" and jude's cycle of hatred. they sort of go together like yin and yang — two opposing forces who still end up working together. they have a distinct role to play in each other's lives.

on the other hand, team alice characters r sort of more independent from each other and feel a bit like a hodgepodge. this results in the reader potentially finding more difficulty finding how they may affect one another…risking their role as chars in each others stories being rendered vague.

and if the role of chars is hard to be established, it is easy for them to "fall out" in terms of the storyline.

TEAM SNOW WHITE

so here is the three man team that makes the three man team work. and the biggest thing that team snow white has that team alice doesnt is distinct, complex dynamics established between all three chars in the team. in other words, they have a "full circle" whereas team alice has a "half circle".

ALFONS & ELBERT: ah yes the pairing that would become a couple if they were not labeled as love interests for kate in an otome game /lh but in all srsness these two do share quite an interesting dynamic. they were sort of there to share each other's pain, and even just as chars, they seem to reflect things abt each other. for example, through elbie, we learn of how "hopeless" al can feel despite his smiley front; and through al, we see a lot of what elbie was truly seeking and why. and how, despite al being a mirror that reflects others' desires, elbie is the mirror that keeps al grounded to his self, and reflects what makes al as a char. they share a close relationship of "two lonely and broken souls finding solace in one another", but there is also quite a bit of subtext in the semantics of their dynamic and dialogue together as well.

ELBERT & ROGER: considering elbie's fear of doctors, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that, despite the fact roger had never actually laid a finger on elbie the same way his father's doctor did, elbie still feared roger, bc roger still embodied the concept of what had deeply traumatized him in the first place. roger had to go out of his way to earn elbie's trust (as a doctor), and they had gone out of their way to depict this. in this sense, through roger, we can see just how deep-rooted this trauma is and its severity — time cant heal all wounds.

ROGER & ALFONS: theres quite a bit to unpack with these two. they r deeply intertwined in each other's lives, whether they like it or not. its not that al gets along with roger or views him as a "friend", per se, but he finds it easy to place the blame of his suffering on roger, implies through subtext that he still holds some hope for roger that he can fulfill his goals, and shows his own version of an act of kindness by erasing his memories when he decided to, well, off himself. on the other hand, interestingly enough, roger is the one who basically took away al's childhood, but at the same time, in the present, he is the one who is able to bring out al's most childish side.

all in all, team snow white seems to rely a lot on subtext, which is another device to create mult layers and complexities in the dynamics created between all the characters in the team.

tl;dr: team alice has individually interesting characters, which is why they r not really disliked necessarily, but their interactions with each other as a team fall short compared to the other teams, which in turn has an impact on how "relatable" they may be perceived by the reader. and this is basically why i think team snow white and sleeping beauty r more favored than team alice as a whole by the (en) fandom.

wrote most of this on my phone nfjsjhfhsgs will end the essay here

#ikemen villains #kuri.txt #d: kodaswrld

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kaprisvn · 6 months ago

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Hi!

I'm a little confused about what Y/N works as. To me, they look like a manager, kind of, but they have a staff hat, so I assume that means they're a lower/general employee. Do they work with Sun and Moon directly or do they just see the boys often when they're working?

Sorry if this was asked before!

-An interested anon :))

P.S. you're art style is beautiful <3

You have activated my trap card, dear @chor-reblogs >:)

So, this is something I'm INCREDIBLY glad I got an ask for, as Y/N's role is very plot relevant to the catalyst event of the fic. (In a way...)

To start off, you're actually half-right on the manager idea! In Chasing Stars, every Pizza-Plex employee is meant to have a 'supervisor' for the first month or so - the person they can go to for help or clarification instead of bothering upper management with their plebeian pleas. This supervisor is also meant to give the employee under them their welcoming tour, along with their uniform. The supervisor is always the most experienced (via time there worked) in the same position (ex. food staff, custodian, P&S) as the person they're supervising, and don't actually have much authority over them.

This is how things usually go, HOWEVER, when Y/N was accepted into their role as General Staff, there wasn't anyone else currently in that position (the previous ones 'left' rather quickly. Hm.) This resulted in them not receiving a supervisor, along with a stark lack of instructions. Sucks for them I guess!

But what sucks even more is that shortly after being hired, ANOTHER general staff member joins the team, and since Y/N is technically the most experienced General Staff member... They become her supervisor.

Who is this mysterious girl? Why, Vanessa A. of course!

Vanessa's nickname for the reader in the fic is 'Boss', and despite Y/N trying to correct her that: A. They have have literally no jurisdiction over her and B. That they're just as clueless as she is, she insists upon the name. Even after she gets put on Security duty due to [SPOILER], she keeps term for Y/N. (Interspersed with a more fond nickname that I shall not disclose yet).

Vanessa and the readers relationship is a significant and complicated one that's going to change a lot throughout the fic. In fact, I'd call it the second most important relationship in terms of plot/themes, after the DCA. But overall, I'd say they're... 'good friends'.

As for the last part of your question - which yeesh, sorry for the yap session - the role of General Staff is to do whatever odd jobs are left over after everyone is assigned their work, but more importantly, they can be called on by any animatronic or other staff member that happens to need help with their job. You can basically summon them like your personal butler. Of course, Sun and Moon abuse this ability to the extreme, which means that Y/N ends up working with them very often. (I mean, the daycare just gets so busy and we're so understaffed!! You understand, don't you? And- we finish the work so quick with YOUR help that you may as well stick around awhile longer, right? Management won't care about a few missing minutes... or hours. We won't tell if you don't :) )

(PS. CS! Vanessa's personality is very inspired by @/naffeclipse, because by god I love her interpretation of the character so much.)

EDIT: I don't consider any of this to be a spoiler btw! You learn all of this within the first 2-3 chapters :3

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arcanaeventhub · 2 months ago

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🔮 🐍 ASRA WEEK 2025 💜💜💖

HELLO ASRA LOVERS, AND WELCOME TO THE 4TH YEAR OF ASRA WEEK! GET READY FOR #asraweek2025

🦊 THEMES

Day 1 (June 7): My Secrets / Our Memories

Day 2 (June 8): A Farewell / Home Again

Day 3 (June 9): Grand Adventure / Daily Life

Day 4 (June 10): In Loss / In Love

Day 5 (June 11): Something Old / Something New

Day 6 (June 12:) The Magician / The Lovers

Day 7 (June 13): Happy Birthday, Asra & Faust! 💜🐍 Or a Free Day, for you to do whatever you want in celebration of our fave magician and his familiar!

🦊 FAQ

What's Asra Week 2025?

Asra Week is a fan event celebrating the birthday of our fave magician! Basically, it's just an event for fun to create fanworks and celebrate Asra's birthday

For the entire event, we release a new theme each day! We also share any and all fanworks made for the event! At the end of the week, we wish Asra and Faust a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY💜💜

(Here are the tags for past Asra Weeks for the curious!)

Who can participate?

Do you love Asra? Do you want to join? Congrats, you are 100% eligible for this event!

What content is allowed?

Just about anything really. Fanart, fanfiction, fan edits, mood boards, playlists, whatever you want, as long as it includes Asra in some way! The rule is to have fun and enjoy yourself

Mature content too?

Spicy/adult content and content with dark or otherwise heavy themes are certainly allowed! Don’t forget to put warnings, and the reblogs will be tagged appropriately too

However, if it’s not allowable within Tumblr guidelines, please provide content warnings and include an offsite link to the full content (ie links to Twitter, etc, wherever you're posting)

Sneak peeks & previews are optional!

Can my content include Asra interacting with my apprentice? With other characters?

Yes and yes! You can have Asra interacting with any number of the Arcana cast or your own OCs in your works.

Just don’t forget any content warnings if they’re applicable

Can I still participate if I’m late/do themes on different days?

Of course! The themes and dates are more of a suggestion to help spark inspiration. Don’t feel restricted by them, and definitely no worries on being late.

The blog will still continue to reblog and share Asra Week content even after the event is over

Will there be a specific event hashtag?

Yes! The hashtag is #asraweek2025, which will be tracked and all content will be shared here on ArcanaEventHub

You can also tag either @arcanaeventhub or @mimsicalwonderland in case your post doesn't show up in the tags or has been missed

I’m still confused/ I still have more questions!

Please direct any other questions to our inbox for further clarification. Anon is on, so don’t be shy :)

Hope to see yall for Asra week~ 🐍💖

#asraweek2025 #the arcana game #the arcana #asra alnazar #asra the magician #the arcana events #we took a break last year BUT WE ARE BACK IN BUSINESS BABEY 💖💖#LETS GOOOOOOO ASRA WEEEEK #RISE ASRA LOVERS RISE!!!!#looking forward to everyones stuff! lets have fun & celebrate Asras bday hehe #aeh events

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espresseleineweek · 3 months ago

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EspresseLeine Week

Hello everyone! Welcome to the blog. I will be your host, Midnight!

This is the pinned for the event that also serves as a FAQ so be sure to read everything before sending an ask. Though if you have questions feel free to send them :]

All gifs, dividers and images used on the blog were made by the mods. Assets owned by Devsisters. Feel free to use, just credit back :]

What is Espresseleine?

Espresseleine (also known as Espressoline or Esmad) is the slash ship between Espresso Cookie and Madeleine Cookie from the mobile game Cookie Run: Kingdom by Devsisters

How can I participate?

You can do anything you want as long as it's connected to the ship and our prompts. You may draw, write, make a poem, playlist, gifset, edit, animate or whatever comes to mind. You can do one day's prompt or even all of them if you want to. Participation is for fun, not forced.

The one rule: NO AI of any kind. No AI images, edits, etc. We do not support AI on this blog.

When does it start and end?

The event is hosted in June. The specific date is not set for this year yet, but a post will be made to announce it between April and May.

What are the prompts?

You can find the 2025 prompts here!

You can also find the 2021 and 2022 prompts here if you'd like to revisit those.

How should I submit my entry?

You can post it on your own and tag it #espresseleine week

Feel free to tag me on your posts to be sure I don't miss them! Not mandatory though, the tag will be checked pretty much daily as the event goes.

You can also submit your work to my submissions tab if you'd rather do that.

Can I put my own headcanons into this?

Of course!! I would Love to see them! This is all for fun and creativity, you may even do AU stuff if you'd like, just connect it to these two + the theme.

What can I send an ask about?

Anything really. If you are confused about prompts, need more info about the event, would like to get to know me or need some clarification about stuff, feel free to send your questions my way. You can also just say hi, that's okay too.

#cookie run kingdom #espresseleine #cookie run #espresso cookie #madeleine cookie #crk #espresso x madeleine #madeleine x espresso #madespresso #esmad #espressoline #pinned post #pinned #faq #espresso crk #madeleine crk #espresseleine week

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pokeask-magi-retreat · 7 months ago

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Welcome!

Hello again, welcome to year 3!! This post will serve as information for the event including start times, basic information, and the likes.

Basis:

This is essentially a community version of the Magi Event that has taken place on @asktheisle for the last few years. In prior years on the main blog, the Magi come and visit for the month and bestow gifts on guests. Same essence, except now there's a designated space for the community to gather during that time-this blog right here!

Dates:

The event is set to run from January 1st to January 31st. The Magi themselves will arrive on January 6th to coincide with the holiday the event is based off of (Three Kings Day) and will remain present until the end of the event. There's no set schedule for arriving or leaving, so feel free to participate as much or as little as you would like! I've always intended for this to be a casual event that fosters some interaction.

Things to Do:

While this is a casual event and participants are free to do as they please, there ARE some things that can be done during the course of the month if you feel inclined! More information will be presented when the specific times are reached and include:

Receiving a gift from the Magi

Special character interactions

A small event prompt at the beach

In regards to interaction ideas, things that can be done but aren't limited to include:

Interacting with the Magi and/or hosts

Taking a swim at the beach

Asking about and trying out all the different food available

Grabbing a drink (alcoholic and not) at the makeshift bar for the event

A designated area for games including pool/billiards and dominoes, even bring your own games!

A dance floor with handheld instruments to sing and play along with

Bonfires and hammocks scattered around the shore to relax in

Extra Notes:

Anybody in the pokeask community is welcome to participate! Written blogs, those who have been on hiatus, new and upcoming blogs-all are welcome. The only ones barred from participation are those who have been causing problems within the community (which I hope has been no one recently). Standard DNI criteria applies as well (no lgbt-phobes, TERFS, MAPS, racists, etc)

I would hope for no problems, but if there are any concerns as the event goes on you are ALWAYS free to message me and I will do what I can to take care of it. Anyone found acting out of line will be barred from the event.

In regards to event posts: The tag for participants to use as well as the one I'll use for posting on here is pokeaskmagiretreat25. You will know I've seen your post and have it queued if it's liked by my main blog (Kuixotic). This will also be the blog you see when receiving submissions or asks if you have anons off.

Another post will feature an opportunity to receive an invitation for the event. An invite is not necessary to participate! I just know some community members in the past have taken a liking to having something to transition with between plot and events.

Another post will also feature the map and free-to-use backgrounds for the event.

If you have any questions/concerns you're free to send me an ask or a DM! Once the event gets going you can reach out to me for any clarification on things.

Hope to see you there!

#pokeask #pokeaskblog #pokeaskmagiretreat25 #pokeask-magi-retreat #info

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cursorcomets · 6 months ago

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Re: The discourse

I really don’t want to speak over anybody, I just want clarification and believe discourse is necessary for justified understanding.

I am very confused with a lot of the discourse i’ve seen today, and this confusion itched curiosity which became answers which then lead to further confusion.

Firstly, I have nothing but sympathy for anybody unable to bridge their connection with dan and phil through their tour. It makes me so upset knowing there’s so many people (knowingly the largest areas of fans), unable to see them in person because of external factors, outside of their controls. My sympathy is shared with my privilege in my other hand.

If we act in good faith, we also understand this is also very upsetting to dan and phil, from what they have said regarding the unjustified barriers they’ve tried to get past. They want to meet their fans, we know this from the generosity they extend to these issues, even ones out of their control. If that means hosting the equivalency of two meet and greets in one day due to ticket mishap, or their willingness to sacrifice their own discomfort for the sake of transparent fairness. It would be questionable to claim they do not genuinely care about their supporters, and when able, demonstrate that to the extent possible.

Obviously they cannot and should not go without criticism. They have, and will make mistakes, holding them to their mistakes is also important, and their responses to most of community concerns demonstrates it matters to them as well. They don’t want to upset or offend us. I believe they value our opinion, hold our viewpoints very high and want to set some kind of example of these beliefs. Could they do more? of course. At the end of the day, it breaks my heart to acknowledge, they are middle aged white men from England.

I also think it’s so important to acknowledge the raw realities they have shared with us, being their humanness, authenticity and vulnerability they have given us access to for 15 years. In the face of the mass scale personal intrusion they have sacrificed for our benefit, we have to acknowledge they are at their core deeply human. This point sounds cliche but i fear the desensitising of it only causes harm.

As dan said in his most recent reply, “to some extent i think i should be allowed grace to process being told my existence is not welcome.”

He further goes onto explain the importance of being sensitive with his platform. This is what i feel is at the core of this discourse.

There is so much nuance within discussing the careful line between expression of his lived experience, and minimising the extent of these vocal frustrations against his responsibility as a lighting rod of hope for so many.

His original reply which initiated the discourse, in relation to touring in asia, “we tried but the governments said no homo”.

Although later clarified is true, caused a lot of upset to many people. I am in no place to invalidate those feelings, and do not mean too. Those directly affected by this comment are more than entitled to feel this way. I do not want to touch that issue, my confusion comes from issues that exist outside of the topic specifically.

More so, the power of assumption and trust. I acknowledge it may be easier for me to detach and adjudicate situations from the outside of an issue due to privilege. I have tried to consume most of the opinions from those at the core of the issue. It seemed there was an assumption this statement of his was decidedly the single and final statement regarding asian tour dates. If that was true, it would be deeply unprofessional and disloyal to those fans affected. His statement now reads as truth masked through frustrated tone in response to hurt at the expense of himself and asian fans. As he since explained further, this sentiment is correct. Where my confusion lies, is the immediate jump to action, the accusatory labels and immediate conclusion his intent was malicious, consciously or not. I do get it, we should not carelessly trust people we only know parasocially. His statement was no more embellished than the acknowledgment of a massive factor to his answer to the initial question. The tone of his reply is where we have to apply nuance to the real life implications. The reality is, they were subjected to censoring on the basis of their sexuality. This does not take away from the lived experience of lgbt people in those countries. He acknowledged and apologised for not clarifying sooner, however the discourse of the initial reply is swallowing the larger sentiment, this is deeply upsetting to both dnp and those missing out on the tour. To find malice in his personal processing of discrimination, when his initial statement at its core was coping at his own expense doesn’t make sense to me with these points applied.

I do not disagree with sentiments expressed by those affected by this, or saying that there is absolutely no reason for any critique. I want to listen, I want to support those affected, but i want to do this with total comprehension and understanding. I can’t thoughtlessly defend something without reason. I also take umbridge with SOME people weaponising their ignorance or purposeful incompetence to be bullies, whether to defend dan or attack him. It’s incredibly translucent the people that jump to the occasion in bad faith, taking away significance from actual well intended intelligent opinions. If you’re using this as an opportunity to be racist or regina george, you don’t care about the crusade your fighting, you are simply miserable.

If anyone disagrees or thinks im missing something please let me know! Im more than happy to have a conversation, its not your responsibility to educate me but Im more than happy to listen! Please be no meaner than justified haha.

Peace & Love,

Aimee

#dan and phil #phan #dnp #daniel howell

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valenschmidt · 9 months ago

Note

Got to love people always assuming someone is straight. Heteronormative society. Oliver has as far as we know one long term female partner that he ended things with not too long ago (after nearly a decade it seems). That doesn’t automatically mean he’s straight. As mentioned by yourself, he doesn’t see a difference when having to kiss a man nor a woman. He also alluded to caring more about how a person makes you feel and if they bring happiness to you than gender (in the Men’s Health live from June). He also did a little interview from a few years ago where he said he loved Pose and wanted to be on the show. That is a show about black and brown queer characters in the 80s/90s ballroom scene in New York. The only white guy on that show was Evan Peters (who always works with Ryan Murphy) whose character liked trans women. Simply, if Oliver likes it, he doesn’t care what anyone else has to say.

Hello anon!!!

Right?!?!?! Bt mostly love to get Oliver into their argument saying that he is straight and that is why the kissing looks weird and bla bla bla and...

1st I didn't mention Oliver in that bucktommy post because He is definitely NOT the reason why that kiss (makeout session according to them) looks stiff and awkward

2nd Oliver actually confirmed he doesn't mind kissing men like he really said that it was the same as kissing a woman so the issue was not with him. If he has to tongue kiss a man he will absolutely do it

Also yes he has never actually confirmed his sexuality and even though we only know about his on and off for years ex Hannah, so we can't assume he is straight or not until he himself confirms it and until then, his sexuality is none of our business.

I will be using this post as well to make a clarification

I for one am straight so I never want to assume anyone's sexuality and I don't ever want to press someone to tell me because it is none of my business unless they want to tell me that. If someone is from the lgbtq community and wants to tell me I will be ready to embrace them and thank them for telling me and be as supportive as I can (I am quite literally called Valentina like the ally from that one video so it makes sense 🤣) so everyone from the community will always have a safe space in my blog to talk and I welcome any advice if I step over the line about something

Going back to Oliver, we should not assume he is straight but no one should ever question his sexuality now that Buck has been confirmed bi because he doesn't owe his sexuality to anyone so it pisses me off that bt want to excuse his fave lfjr being stiff while kissing a man by saying they are both straight so of course they are uncomfortable because they are actors but no. It shouldn't be like that... if they are not comfortable then they can say so and talk about it with the intimacy coordinator and Oliver has pretty much confirmed that he isn't uncomfortable so...

And on that topic I don't want a repeat of what Kit Connor went through so this is not for you anon this is just a general thing... If/when Eddie is confirmed gay and buddie gets together I don't want ANYONE talking about Oliver or Ryan's sexualities because they don't owe it to anyone to say anything.

Have a good day anon! Thank you for giving me the space to talk

#oliver stark #buck #evan buckley #911 on abc #buddie #lou ferrigno jr #lgbtq #bisexual

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zaebeecee · 3 months ago

Text

The Radio Angel

by @fletchingbrilliant and ZaeBeeCee

First Chapter | Next Chapter Read on AO3

•••

in case anybody needs clarification, any original folks/folks who don't appear in canon yet are fully our headcanon. If there are similarities to other headcanons/fics, they are coincidence. This isn't based on anyone else's fanwork. <3

•••

Chapter 02 •

And then… Alastor was not dead.

Either that, or something had gone horribly, terribly, wrong .

The sensations returning to his body were… incorrect. It was alien, like unfamiliar clothing that didn’t fit quite correctly, but something that no amount of adjustment would ever fix. But he had no clothing, of that he was suddenly quite certain. The stench of blood and death and decay and rot to which he was so accustomed were gone, their absence so stark as to be alarming and turning the scents of clean and fresh nothingness cloying and revolting. Most of his pain, too, had vanished… save for his wrists and his arms; it felt as though he was suspended by shackles, his back to a cool wall that felt like smooth stone or marble.

“That was incredibly reckless.” A smooth, feminine voice entered Alastor’s awareness, beginning distant, like hearing someone speaking from some distance down a tunnel. It grew clearer as Alastor’s consciousness strengthened. “What would you have done if the Morningstar’s daughter had heard the commotion and arrived before you had finished?”

“Well, like, she didn't !” came the reply, and Alastor felt the distant ill feeling that came with once again hearing Adam's abrasive tones. “And I totally could've handled that bitch if she did, brah, no cap.”

“You would have totally kicked her ass, sir,” added a clipped, no-nonsense female voice that Alastor recognized as Adam’s lieutenant, Lute.

The first woman sighed in irritation. “That’s not the point, Adam. Discretion was specifically requested, and you said—” Her words cut off. “…he’s finally waking up.”

As Alastor managed to open his eyes, the first thing he saw was blinding white. It took too long for him to adjust, but as he did, he saw both Exorcists in question, as well as a third angel, this one exceedingly tall and with long, silver hair flowing down her back. Though she hadn’t addressed Alastor, she was watching him with cold, distant eyes, as though examining a scientific specimen.

His vision, as its focus returned, was in fact extremely sharp and crisp, no longer tainted by whatever warped filter he once looked through after his death. He met the Angel's eyes, taking in the three pairs of wings she bore on her back. When he spoke his voice felt weak, and the radio static that once coursed through his veins and seeped out of his very being was gone. But he wasn't about to give up the opportunity to sneer at these divine pretenders.

“Every one of you should be terrified of the Morningstar’s daughter . If you aren't already.”

He felt Adam’s rage at his words. “Don't think I can't kill you again, you creepy little shit!!”

“Adam, be silent,” the seraph—because that was what she must have been—said, her eyes remaining on Alastor’s. “Welcome to Heaven, Alastor Castrie. I apologize that your arrival was not as smooth as our standards require. Yours is quite a special case, you understand.”

So this is Heaven.

“You have me at quite the disadvantage, my dear,” Alastor said with thinly veiled sarcasm. “There appears to be some assertion that I was expected here, and I can't help but feel that this would ruin Heaven’s standards even more than you did when you let this chuckle-headed popinjay through your pearly gates.”

“It was requested that we deliver you here,” the seraph said, not rising to the bait; in fact, she raised her hand to prevent Lute from responding to the insult on her master’s behalf. “Worry not. Once your rehabilitation has completed, you will be the absolute picture of a Winner.”

Alastor's mind replayed her words once, twice, the experience cold with his mental gramophone no longer present.

“...rehabili-what-now?”

“Your rehabilitation, Alastor Castrie. Your wrongful sentencing to Hell is being rectified, and we must cleanse your body of the malevolence plaguing it.”

The laugh that bubbled up through Alastor's throat hurt, it hurt bad, but he simply couldn't hold it in. He even cackled before gagging, carrying the painful feeling into his hysterical fervor. “Oh, I think I'll hang on to my malevolence , thanks. I find it suits me nicely.”

“You think you have a choice, buddy?” Adam barked. “Nah, man, you're about to be our bitch!! ”

“You will be purified by fire,” Lute added, her voice a sharp whip crack.

The seraph shook her head, the movement solemn. “I understand that this may be painful to hear,” she said. “And while it is true that you do not have a say in this, you will thank him in the end.”

“Aren't you all so precious, ” Alastor jeered. “Tell me, just what magnanimous benefactor do I have to thank for this new lease on life?”

“That would be me.”

Alastor hadn’t heard anyone else enter. Neither, it seemed, had any of the angels; judging by the way all three jumped, they were just as surprised as he was. When they stepped aside—Alastor couldn’t tell if it was deference or just a reflex to see who was behind them—he found himself face to face with an incredibly familiar visage, despite the fact that it belonged to a complete stranger.

He wasn’t tall, likely to only reach Alastor’s shoulders if they stood side by side. His black hair was straight, short, and glossy, hanging either side of a pale white face marked with circular red cheeks much like a china doll or a clown. His three eyes were focused on Alastor’s own, one peering from above the sharp V where his golden halo dropped down across his forehead, and six elegant black wings were splayed out behind him as he folded his hands before his own abdomen like a vocalist preparing to sing an aria in a church.

This was, without a doubt, an Archangel, but which one wasn’t entirely clear.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you after all of this time,” the Archangel said, his voice gently melodic; Alastor almost found himself compelled to listen in spite of everything. “Though I must admit, you are different than I anticipated, based on the description I received.”

“I am known to defy description,” Alastor said, though the strength of his voice almost completely abandoned him once again. Even his smile was now little more than a smirk.

“Show some respect, buttfuck!” snapped the chief idiot.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, but remained focused on the Archangel. I'm not sure I could look away if I wanted to. “It's news to me that I've been under observation by you holy rollers.”

“Oh, you make it sound as though you’re being stalked,” the Archangel said with a gentle laugh. “No, no, the one who told me about you knew you in life�� well, perhaps she told Mikael,” he added in a thoughtful aside. “…mm, I don’t remember. Regardless, you know a woman named Ezora, do you not?”

Whatever tenuous grasp on reality Alastor had managed to hold onto throughout this ordeal instantly fell away. His mouth dried as it hung open, he felt cold air flood the gaping chasm that now made up his torso, cold air that turned into fuel for rage.

“ Keep that name off of your tongue. ”

The Archangel actually giggled, covering his mouth with one delicate hand. “I see you do. Worry not, child, she doesn’t know you’re here, nor will she be informed. After all, we hardly want to give Mikael reason to turn scrutiny onto us, do we?” he asked, turning his head and directing the question at Adam.

Adam's face, which Alastor only now realized was not masked, the first time he ever saw him without his armor, went pale. Alastor wished he could take pleasure from the pathetic creature being so thoroughly served. “No sir, we sure don't sir.”

The Archangel’s smile widened, and Alastor could feel the sudden switch as the expression turned from whatever passed for divine love and kindness into something incredibly threatening. “I’m glad we all understand.”

He held out his hand, palm down, and a swirl of golden light appeared in a conical shape between his fingers and the ground before that light materialized into a golden horn with black filigree bearing a round Metatronic Sigil, very much like the seals of the Princes of Hell. The words surrounding the symbol read:

“ADONAY • ELOYM • TETRAGRAMMATON • GABRIEL”

The Archangel looked up at Alastor again as he laid his hand on the mouth of the horn. “Now… you and I should talk.” He raised his other hand, flicking the side of the horn with the nail of his middle finger. A deep and resonant tone filled the long white hall, like war drums in the distance, before the other three angels collapsed where they stood as though in a deep sleep. At the same moment, Alastor’s bindings released him, dropping him to the cold, hard ground.

His body, bare and battered, trembled with a pain that came from within and without. He was unsure where to hold himself, his arms wrapping around his torso, but his ears flattening against his head. The sound, somehow, was filling Alastor with a dread he had only felt once before in any of his lifetimes.

He pushed his head up, teeth bared in the grin of a cornered animal. In spite of everything else, there was only one thing driving him now, and he would not be deterred.

“ Where is my mother? ” he spat.

Gabriel tilted his head, his expression turning to mild surprise. “Would you like to see her?”

His fingers clenched against his tattered guts. “Don't patronize me, you miserable little snob.”

“Oh, Alastor.” Gabriel’s expression turned to something… sympathetic? Condescending? It was almost impossible to tell. “Do you really believe so strongly that no one cares about you? That those you love have forgotten you?”

He wanted nothing more than to lash out at Gabriel, to swell in size and devour him whole. But when he reached out his hand to call on his power, fingers clawed and flexing, nothing happened. He snarled in rage, trying to push himself up and managing only inches.

“ Where. Is. She? ”

Gabriel let out a long, gentle sigh. He stepped towards Alastor on silent feet, crouching in front of him without even the pretense of fear or caution. “Where she has been since the day her neck snapped,” he said calmly. “In the First Heaven. In my Realm. If not there, the Fourth Heaven. Do you. Want to. See her?”

They've taken it from me. Everything I worked for. Everything I sacrificed for. He didn't want to concede anything to the Archangel. But he had no choice.

“...yes.”

Gabriel raised one hand over Alastor’s head and moved his hands like he was swirling a fountain with his fingertips. Fabric, cool and clean and soft, wrapped itself around Alastor’s body from nowhere, building into a simple white and black garment. Strength began returning to Alastor, only enough to allow him to begin to rise to his feet, and as he did, Gabriel’s hand landed on his shoulder.

The sensation was so very different from when he would travel through the shadows. There was no dizziness or nausea, just the strange feeling of suddenly being in a different place, like walking through a door that led somewhere unexpected. Alastor felt sunlight, gentle and warm, and he could hear the ambient sounds of trickling water and chirping birds and gently rustling leaves. They were all things from an ancient time so long past that he had almost forgotten they even existed.

He could smell grass and flowers and herbs, and he realized he was in a garden, kneeling among soft and brilliantly green grass beneath the shadow of a large willow tree that stood at the bank of a crystal blue lake. Nearby, he could hear singing.

Very... familiar singing.

“Pauv’ piti’ Mom’zelle Zizi, pauv’ piti’ Mom’zelle Zizi. Li gaignain bobo, bobo dans so pitit tchoeur.”

“Mamán…!” He stood fully to his feet, but his legs were still so weak. Pushing away from Gabriel, he staggered toward the willow tree.

The Archangel did nothing to stop him, watching in silence as Alastor grabbed hold of the trunk of the tree and steadied himself. Through the hanging leaves, he saw a woman sitting on her hip with her legs folded to her side, a boline in one hand and a length of thin hemp-like cord in the other. She used the boline to slice off a length of the cord, which she then began to use to bind off a small pile of assorted herbs.

In many ways, she looked precisely the way Alastor remembered, from the way her ebony hair fell in a curtain of tight, thick curls to one side of a beautiful face with skin like midnight and dark eyes that could cut through your soul with a simple glance. In other ways, she was unrecognizable; there was no trace of the hunger or weariness she had carried every day of Alastor’s youth, and those scars she bore around her wrists and throat from the days of slavery she suffered in her youth had turned to a brilliant silver that glittered in the light of Heaven’s day. There were silvery green vines weaving through her hair, seeming to be growing directly from her skull, turning into markings that wound like tattoos down her arms and legs. Silver wings, too, came from her back, folded in a peaceful way along her back.

Her song, that familiar Louisiana Creole he hadn’t heard in years, trailed off before she held out one of the bunches of herbs. “Here,” she said to some unknown person, her accent as smooth and unignorable as ever. “Hang this one with the others, child.”

“You got it, Mama Z.”

The voice was jarring, startling Alastor where he stood, forcing him to redouble his grip on the tree. It had a sharp accent, tasting like rich copper on his tongue. It was familiar. And the hand that reached out to accept the bundle had narrow palms and long fingers, completely white save for a little pink heart on the back.

Alastor couldn't allow himself to focus on the distraction of the other figure. Because sitting before him, undeniable and real as anything could ever be… was Ezora Castrie. His mamán. The one person in all the world who could ever love him.

The other angel was walking away. It was the perfect opportunity to say something. Anything.

He couldn't move. He couldn't will his mouth to speak. Heat and pain pressed against his eyes, and soon he realized he was gripping the willow so hard that his skin was cracking.

As he watched, his mamán offered the other angel one of her genuine smiles, the one that barely pulled at the corners of her mouth but seemed to catch her eyes on fire. It was gone the next moment, however, as her expression fell into something that spoke of neutrality to almost, but Alastor knew was a sign of her sadness. She reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and as it always had, it immediately fell back into place as she began binding up a new bundle of herbs.

“I was thinkin’ I could teach you a bit more about cookin’,” she said, her voice lighter than her expression suggested. “You did good with that gumbo, so I thought you could try your hand at my shrimp creole. Never thought I’d get to teach a young woman nothin’ ‘bout food.”

“You tellin’ me your neighbors weren't throwing their babies at you for lessons?” the white angel was saying with sharp amusement as she hung the bundle, still with her back to Alastor. “Lies. Lies. You are a liar.”

Ezora laughed gently. “Oh, no, they said my baby’d eat theirs up,” she said, her smile returning. “Always figured the only way I’d be teachin’ a woman cookin’ was if my boy brought one home, which was just a lil’ less likely than the sky rainin’ down chocolate and diamonds.”

The other angel laughed too, the sound abrasive in a way that Alastor associated with real joy. She plopped down onto the grass beside Ezora, and Alastor finally properly looked away from his mother.

There were certainly differences, and she – like all the angels he had seen thus far – was far more human-like in appearance, but it couldn't be denied. In her voice, her demeanor, her fluffy white hair and soft pink eyes… it was as though he was looking at another iteration of Angel Dust.

“Sounds just like my baby bro!” she was saying. “Though I don't think Ma and Pa were concerned about Tony eating nobody, if you catch my drift.”

Ezora’s laugh was the same subdued chuckle Alastor always remembered so fondly. “Well, if Alastor ever ate anyone, I’m sure they deserved it.” She tied off another bundle and then looked up at the sky.

The other angel seemed to follow Ezora’s lead, falling silent herself and following her gaze. Alastor sank down against the willow tree, his new heavenly garb fluttering around his legs, soft grass cradling him in a way he never felt in Hell. It was this softness, surely, that was making him feel so weak. His head fell against the bark, he blinked, and felt something warm and wet roll down his cheek.

“You figure he wound up down there, huh?” the other angel said, her voice much softer.

“If my boy ain’t found a way to live forever, he’s down there fightin’ Lucifer himself for a throne. He never did like listenin’ to anyone.” Ezora turned her head towards the other angel. “Your brothers too, huh?”

As Alastor chuckled softly, the other angel nodded. “Ain't no fuckin’ doubt. Gotta say, though, it's a crime against the fuckin’ universe that I ain't down there with ‘em. I went outta my way to be worse than them at every turn. And everybody knew Tony was the sweet one, if any of the Mezzasalma kids could be said to be sweet. And Dino was the fair one, if any of us could be said to be fair.”

“Oh, Miss Molly. You might be the only one I’ve met who wishes they were down there instead,” Ezora said with a smile. “Then again, if I could choose, I would too. It don’t make no sense. Never expected to end up here myself, but that’s how it is.”

Alastor heard footsteps and felt Gabriel crouch beside him, whispering, “That’s her, isn’t it? Why don’t you go speak to her?”

He shuddered under the Archangel's energy. Whatever it was about it made it difficult to fight against it. Difficult to want to. “I… I don't know how,” he confessed.

“Are you afraid of how she might look at you?”

“I…” he bowed his head. “...yes.”

Gabriel made a soft, thoughtful noise. “I understand it must be hard,” he said. “Accepting that your mother still loves you. Accepting that your death was, and still is, mourned. But you are not the hopeless case you believe yourself to be, Alastor.”

At that Alastor looked over his shoulder toward Gabriel. “You misjudge me, Archangel. I have no desire for hope .”

He found the strength then, pushing back to his feet. It was as though his hooves were touching clouds. He hated it. With a swallow he took one step forward, then another. His body felt heavier with each step he took, approaching the edge of the garden, remaining still several feet from Ezora and Molly. Positioned as he was, he could see his mother more clearly, and he waited.

Molly saw him first, and looked up, meeting his eyes. Even at a distance Alastor felt something strange pass between them that lacked description, but left him rattled. Ezora tilted her head at Molly, opening her mouth as though to ask what was the matter. Before she could speak, she followed her line of sight, going still as she met Alastor’s eyes as well.

Slowly, Ezora stood, dropping the boline and the herbs without looking to see where they fell. She stepped closer to him, not stopping until she was mere inches from him. Her hand raised as though to cup his cheek, but stopped a mere breath from touching him.

“…Alastor…?”

Spices and swamp water. Crawdads, peppercorns, tree ark and cloves. She still smells the same.

“Mamán,” he whispered, the sound hardly able to escape his throat. His hands raised but stopped short. Did he still bear all of those scars he'd earned after he did the one thing she'd told him never to do?

The moment that word passed his lips, he saw something he had only seen a few times, so few he could count them on one hand.

His mother began to cry.

It wasn’t loud, nor was it dramatic; neither had really been his mother’s style. Ezora’s eyes glossed over, one tear falling as she blinked to clear her vision. Her hand cupped Alastor’s cheek, warm and soft and dry, the pad of her thumb caressing his cheekbone. “Oh, my little curse…”

Awareness of existence melted away, reality was cast out as an unneeded burden. Alastor's arms encircled his mother and he fell into her, openly weeping over Ezora’s silent and dignified tears. His knees gave way and he slid down until he was as a child, his face pressing into her skirts as he would when he could no longer stand the jeers and silent judgement of the world around him.

Her hands rested on his shoulders before she knelt before him, wrapping her arms around him to pull him close against her. With gentle shushing and meaningless murmured Creole words, she stroked his hair, rocking him against her as he slowly began to calm. “It’s alright, my love,” she murmured, lips pressed to his head. “It’s alright.”

Whatever words Alastor may have managed to say, they vanished into meaninglessness with the rest of the space around him. His breathing was shuddering back to a steady pulse, interrupted with halted gasps. Soon they were both completely seated, Alastor burying his head fully into her lap, curled up like he was a lost and frightened child. And he was one. He truly was.

Fingers, calloused and certain, pushed their way through his hair in a gentle caress that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in longer than he could remember. Ezora spoke after a long moment, her hand not stilling as she did. “Alastor… what happened?”

“I messed up, Mamán.” Alastor nuzzled his mother, absorbing that long forgotten scent. “I messed up real bad.”

Her sigh was hard to interpret. Was she disappointed? Was she unsurprised? Resigned? “What’d you do, boy?” she asked, voice still just as soft and measured.

“I sold it. I gave it away,” he murmured into her skirts, unable to face her. He was as a child again, confessing to breaking the handles off the stock pot. “After those white monsters took you from me. ….l made a deal.”

Ezora drew a soft breath. He couldn’t imagine what sort of face she was making. “Why?”

He turned his head, if only to allow his mother to better hear his confession. “I had to. What they did to you… and I was alone. The world wanted me to…” He shook his head, closing his eyes. “It doesn't matter why. You told me not to. I did it anyway and now somehow… I'm here.” Slowly he opened his eyes again, angling them to gaze up at his mother's face.

She was watching him with that inscrutable face of hers, the one that gave away none of her thoughts. Her hand was cradling the back of his head, keeping him braced. “That was foolish of you, wasn’t it?”

His fingertips went to his neck, and he felt the raised markings on his skin that sealed his fate, scars that even Heaven couldn't erase. “Yeah. It sure was foolish, Mamán.”

Ezora’s expression softened. She could have yelled at him, or insulted him, or mocked him… but all she said was, “I missed you, Alastor.”

He rolled so that he was fully on his back, head still cradled in his mother’s hand. “...I missed you, Mamán. Without you around I haven't had an intellectual conversation since I was fifteen.”

She chuckled gently. “Such an arrogant child,” she said without heat, brushing his hair out of his face. “How long did you manage to last? I remember fearin’ that, without me around, you’d get yourself stabbed in a matter of days.”

His smirk quirked a little sharper. “Made it just about as far as Jesus. They got me the day after Mardi Gras.”

“I call that partyin’ too hard.” Ezora finally placed her hands on Alastor’s shoulders, guiding him to sit up without moving away. She then looked around, calling out, “Molly, dear, c’mere. Want you to meet someone.”

Alastor watched as Molly approached, the tall white-and-pink angel looking more apprehensive than her tone of speaking suggested she was capable of. “Didn't wanna intrude or nothin’. Hey there.”

Seeing her this close, the similarities became utterly undeniable. It seemed impossible. If Angel Dust had a sibling in life, a twin perhaps, they would have looked similar then, but how could they look so similar after passing on to two different planes of existence? He stared, unable to put words to the thoughts, to the pain that was redoubling in his chest.

“You, uh, you okay there buddy? Cat got yer tongue?”

“He ain’t never been good at talkin’ when he ain’t bullshittin’ someone. Alastor, this’s Molly. She’s a pain in the ass and I’ve been lookin’ after her because someone’s got to. Molly, this is my son, Alastor.”

“Speak of the devil, huh…” Molly squinted at him, tilting her head, her fluffy pile of short hair bobbing around her head. “I thought you got your ass sent to Hell.”

He sneered, but couldn't allow much heat to go into it. “I did. Looks like somebody screwed up the paperwork. You said you got brothers down there?”

“Yeah. Why, you think you know ‘em? They sure don't know how not to make a big impression.”

“You do look an awful lot like someone I… someone I used to know. You talk like him, too.”

At that, her expression softened, even if it was only for confusion. “That so?”

He nodded once. “He goes by the name… Angel Dust.”

Molly blinked a couple times, silence surrounding her. Then, she threw her head back and she cackled, slapping her leg. “Oh, please let that be Tony!! Leave it to him to rip me off without even knowing it!”

“Your name isn't Angel Dust.”

“ Nooo , dummy, I mean picking a name for a drug that is from, like, way past when he died. Angel Dust. PCP. Dude died in 1947. I died in 1948. And my name is another name for, you know, ecstasy, MDMA. They didn't start really rocking that shit til the seventies, eighties, whatever.”

“I figured it was just your name,” Alastor said dryly.

“Do I sound like my parents woulda given me an Irish name? Get outta here.”

“I didn't know the illicit drug market was so active in Heaven.”

At that Molly gave him a look , and it was a look he knew all too well. One hip was cocked out, hand firmly in place at its greatest curve. Her lip was curled, one brow raised way higher than the other. “You been dealing with Hell's bullshit for a while, fine. You got a lot to learn about Heaven’s own special brand of bullshit.”

“You really are his sister,” he said, his voice softening again.

She smirked, her eyes looking a little wet when she blinked. “And you really do know him, huh. Small world, eh, Mama Z?”

“Souls touch,” Ezora said. “They’re real good at findin’ things important to them.”

“Some believe that is by design.”

The hair on the back of Alastor’s neck stood on end as all three of them turned towards the voice. Gabriel was watching from a distance that might have been called respectful, his hands folded in front of him. When they noticed him, he walked towards them, stopping a short distance away.

“Of course,” he continued, “some find that idea gets too close to what could be considered fate. I’m not certain the idea that everything is happenstance is any more comforting, however.”

“H… hey. Hello, Master Gabriel,” Molly said, and Alastor was struck by the harrowing shift in her tone.

“A soul doesn’t need to be led by fate to find what it needs to thrive,” Alastor said, rising to his feet and planting himself surely between Gabriel and the other two angels. “And those that break free from fate, those are the ones that exceed far past any other.”

Gabriel laughed a little, his expression… was he amused? “If fate is real, it isn’t something one can defy,” he said. “Try, and you’ll find your defiance was fated, as well.”

“And which do you believe, Archangel?” Alastor asked.

“I believe souls require guidance,” Gabriel said, before he raised his hand and snapped, then held his hand out with the backs of his fingers facing Alastor. Hanging from his hand and gently clinking in the temperate breeze were two broken lengths of chain, lengths that Alastor recognized immediately: they had belonged to Husk and Niffty, and it seemed as though they had shattered. “Don’t you agree?”

Alastor felt cold and hollow as he stared at the shattered chains. But the rage was there too. “Don't presume to understand my motives.”

“I would never presume to understand that which you do not truly comprehend yourself.”

“Excuse me, Master Gabriel.” Ezora seemed to have grown discontented with her son’s physical protection, and she had swept around to his elbow without him even noticing. “I apologize for my forwardness, but has my boy done somethin’ to offend you?”

“No, Miss Ezora. Of course not,” Gabriel said with a smile; he flexed his fingers, the chains vanishing in wisps of greenish-black smoke. “I’m sorry to interrupt your reunion, but I’m afraid I need your son to come with me.”

“Why?” Ezora asked; unlike everyone else Alastor had witnessed in Heaven, his mother kept her chin up, eyes directly focused on the Archangel.

For some reason, Gabriel seemed… amused. “He arrived in Heaven quite recently,” he said, “and was… doubtful at my claim that you were here. I simply thought seeing you would put his mind at ease. However, he still has remnants of Hell clinging to his soul, and I’m afraid they must be removed. Edict of the Metatron.”

Alastor felt again the hollow and detached pain of the killing blow Adam had served him, the tingle of the scars that covered his body, the invisible green threads that held him together and fixed his smile eternally in place. Was Gabriel intending to remove all of it somehow? The burn in his neck suggested otherwise.

“I’m sure you know that I am not the only one who would oppose those efforts,” he said, fingers flexing in agitation. “You really think you can undo a pact forged over a century ago?”

“I have no interest in undoing it,” Gabriel said. His smile didn’t change. “In fact, that’s why you’re here.”

“Alastor…?” Ezora asked slowly, and Alastor could feel her eyes on him.

He didn't look away from Gabriel, but he instinctively shifted closer to his mother as he shook his head. “That can't be. He's Goetia. He is of Hell. You have no power there.”

“You misunderstand me,” Gabriel said. His smile widened. “Would you really like me to explain here?”

At last he glanced at Ezora, but only for a moment. He gritted his teeth. “I would like for you to leave both my mother and companion alone.”

“Very well.” Gabriel offered his hand to Alastor. “Come with me, then.”

Alastor looked again at his mother, this time looking deep into her eyes. He reached out to her, taking both of her hands in his.

“Mamán…” What could I say that would come anywhere near close enough to explain… what could I say that would mark me worthy of even a whisper of your forgiveness? “...I'm sorry.”

Ezora’s gaze bored into his, seeing more than he ever wanted anyone to see. Then, she nodded once, freeing one hand to cup his cheek. She pulled him down, pressing her lips to the center of his forehead.

“I love you, Alastor.”

He closed his eyes, willing those accursed tears not to return.

“ I love you, Mamán. ”

When Ezora released him, Alastor lingered, desperate not to let this moment pass. But there was no choice, after all, was there? He turned away, locking the vision of his mother into the one corner of his heart no one was ever allowed to see. When he looked upon Gabriel again, he felt dizzy, light-headed. It took far too little effort, it seemed, for the Archangel to compel Alastor to simply accept his hand.

And then, in a single breath, they were standing in some sort of building, just as white and clean and sterile as so much of the architecture seemed to be in Heaven. Alastor was in a long hallway, one wall gone and replaced with a waist-high barrier broken up by decorative pillars. Where there should have been windows, there was nothing but open air, turning the hall into a long balcony that overlooked green hills and winding rivers and fields of colorful flowers. Sick cynicism flooded Alastor in this space. The facade of soft goodness was almost too much to bear. Gabriel stood a short distance away from him, looking at him critically.

“Do you truly… understand who holds your leash, Alastor?”

“I know what he is,” Alastor said, though his voice still trembled. With rage or with fear, he would never confess. “He is Bael, the first of the Goetia. He's been missing for a long time, apparently, and yet, his power prevails.”

“Yes, we did most unfortunately lose contact,” Gabriel said thoughtfully, a perplexing statement that sounded as though he was talking to himself. “Bael, first King of the Goetia and the original Prince of Gluttony, a masterful magician who stole the holy seals created by the Metatron and corrupted them for use by his brethren in Hell. But who you—and all of Hell—call Bael… that is not his original name.” Gabriel smiled. “As a matter of fact, before he was a Prince of Hell, he was my brother.”

It was too much to absorb at once. First the confirmation that Bael had once ruled over Gluttony as rumors had suggested, but then… then…

“Everyone knows that Lucifer is the only true Fallen Angel,” Alastor insisted.

“Oh, yes, he is,” Gabriel said, his smile widening; it was beginning to grow unsettling. “Samael was growing… precocious. He was dangerously close to following Mikael’s advice and separating himself from Lilith. That was easily rectified. No, Bael is no Fallen Angel. The Metatron simply agreed to… keep an eye on Lucifer, and she believed the best way to do that was to wear a new skin.” He laughed. “I doubt Lucifer ever even realized.”

All of existence was being rewritten before him, and all he could do was stand and stare. The stripping of his reality and challenging of his awareness was so humiliating, so crushing. But worst of all was that he could do little more than react as an idiot child.

“Bael… is the Metatron?” His voice cracked and hitched up into a laugh. “You say that the one who stole all of those powerful and precious seals… he's been the one who made them all this time ? ”

“That’s precisely what I’m saying.” The Archangel raised his hand, palm out. “And that is the reason that I can do… this.”

Gabriel twisted his hand like he was grabbing onto a rope. Instantly, Alastor felt a familiar and painful tug in his throat, just before his chain and manacle materialized. It dug into his flesh, the chain held taught as it led from his neck to Gabriel’s hand, links wrapped around his palm and fingers as he tightened his grip to hold it in place.

“Bael is of Hell, that is true,” Gabriel said. “But the Metatron is of Heaven, and that means that just as you once belonged there, you now belong here.”

Alastor gripped the chain, snarling. “This rather dismantles your entire structure, doesn't it, pal? Bit of a boner if you ask me. And what, now I don't belong in Hell?”

“That is hardly what I mean.” When Gabriel pulled again, Alastor was forced to his knees; before he could right himself, the Archangel reached out, placing his fingers against Alastor’s brow, precisely where his mother had kissed him.

In an instant, he became once again subsumed by the sensations of Hell. Though he could still see the halls of Heaven around him, he could feel Pride’s sick and claustrophobic warmth, smell the grotesque stench of rot and disease and decay, and he could hear…

tiny footsteps running around on gravel

a quiet breath that was nearly a sob

the low creak of bending and groaning metal

“Oh, shit, it’s going to fall,” Charlie said, her voice muffled as though by a single hand.

“What are we supposed to do??” Vaggie asked. “If Alastor’s in trouble, we can’t just stand here!”

Niffty didn’t say anything. She just wailed, and it sounded like she had already been crying. There was gentle shushing, and then Niffty became muffled, as though someone had embraced her. “Why did the bastard build it like that?? How are we supposed to get up there?!” Cherri Bomb yelled at the others.

“I saw Husk,” Charlie said. “He had Angel, but I didn’t see—”

“It’s coming down!” Sir Pentious yelled, and the Egg Bois began shouting a lot of nothing.

The sound of groaning metal grew deafening as something huge began to break apart and fall, scraping down the brick side of the building and landing with a huge crash. As the rumbling began to quiet, Alastor could hear one voice high, high overhead, screaming his name, followed by silence, followed by an animalistic howl of pain and heartbreak.

“Oh, Angel…”

“Come on, we need to get up there!”

“Pen, help me with this rubble, Alastor might be…”

The sensations faded away, and once again, Alastor was kneeling on a cold marble floor, surrounded by silence.

Droplets hit the floor, and Alastor wrapped himself in the self assurance that it was merely sweat. His breathing was shallow and ragged, his head hanging with the weight of what he had just seen. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t right . He had never intended any of that; it wasn’t supposed to be this way! His intentions with the Hazbin Hotel, with Charlie Morningstar and her incredible potential… all of it was supposed to be nothing more than the fulfillment of his own goals, his own selfish aim… his bid to finally be free of the chains he had stumbled into. Never once did he question it, he had no remorse, these people weren’t…

…they weren’t his friends. He had no friends. And his heart…

your heart is a tar pit whence nothing living shall ever emerge

Something warm, something wet, was trailing down his cheek. He drew a shuddering breath, but it did nothing to relieve the pain. It did nothing to pull the sound of Angel’s anguished cry from his mind, which was now melted into the memory of how the spider demon had felt wrapped in his arms, his soft and desperate whimpers, the warmth of his gaze.

“Don’t worry, Alastor,” Gabriel said somewhere above him. “I will relieve you of this pain and suffering. When I am done, you won’t even remember them.”

He craned his head back up, the effort monumental, the pain hardly worth the price.

“ What are you going to do to me ?” he whispered.

Gabriel’s smile was cold as he took Alastor’s chin in his hand, a warm thumb stroking the line of his jaw.

“I am going to make you everything you were meant to be.”

The Archangel’s dark eyes were like polished jet, gleaming in what was a slowly growing darkness. Was it his vision, or the whole world?

“ You… can't… define… …my… ” His eyelids felt heavy. “... my… ”

Gabriel’s lips touched his ear.

“ I can define anything of yours. I can define you. I own you, Alastor Castrie. ”

His skin shuddered and he felt sick at the pull in his gut, desperate for warmth of any kind. He couldn't reject it, or refuse it.

“ I… am… ”

I am a liar.

A promise-breaker.

An ignorant little child.

I…

I want my mother.

•••

It's okay if you don't follow everything Gabriel and Alastor discussed.

You're not supposed to.

Yet.

(And hey, for our returning readers from other fics... remember Bael? Fancy hearing about him again, huh?)

#my writing #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #radiodust #hazbin radiodust #hazbin adam #hazbin lute #hazbin sera #hazbin alastor’s mom #hazbin molly #hazbin original character #gabriel #archangel gabriel

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