#incorrect rote

[sterlingterror]

I think Fitz is incredibly oblivious to the fact that at least half of the resons why everyone thought Lord Golden was railing him are squarely on him.

He spends half of his time just staring admiringly at his bestest friend with moony eyes waxing poetically in his head about how pretty and regal and perfect and fashionable he is. How charismatic and personable. How very golden. My guy.

Not just that, he relentlessly fucked up the whole pretending to be a servant thing, so of course everyone said 'oh yeah, definitely secret lovers or else he would be so incredibly fired'. So much for being a trained spy.

[fitzbelovedhangover]

Fitz: This is a mistake😑

The Fool, enthusiastically: A mistake we're going to laugh about one day!

Fitz: But not today😑

The Fool, still enthusiastic: Oh, no. Today's going to be a mess!

[aweebeing]

Chade: I'm forgetting something.

Dutiful: Morals, probably?

Chade: No, it's something important.

[litualiamortuaria]

Who rote the rule that every human has to have a crush?

(A crush, why must they have one?)

There is people that have big heart but you won't see them with a partner

(Try, try, try, you are just confused)

They are just not interested, why does it botter to you? They are not incorrect or wrong, they just are themselves

WEEELLL.....

Have you heard?

(Have you heard)

About the aroace girl?

(About the aroace girl)

Who tought that she was never going to be happy without a crush

Well have you heard?

(Have you heard)

About the aroace girl?

(About the aroace girl)

Who hates people telling her to have a crush

[lovelypastelsweets]

♡{Onychinus' Kitten:}♡ [Part #6]

Sylus Qin X female!Cat-Hybrid!Reader

{Notes:}

This is my first fan-fiction, if you have any tip/suggestions please let me know!In this story, the 'reader' is NOT the MC, and is female(I don't have an issue with males reading, but I don't know anything about guys, and I want to be authentic. If you'd like a male-reader fan-fic please collaborate with me to deepen my understanding of the male-mind)

{Trigger-warnings:}

This story will contain mentions human-trafficking(not in-detail; Technically hybrid-trafficking), the experimentation of humans-subjects, mentions past-trauma. ALSO; The reader is described as having all limbs, having the ability to use all senses, and as having hair. I'm sorry if this is an issue, I'm trying to be as universal as possible, but if you'd like a specialized part, please message me.

After dinner, the man, who you came to know as "Sylus", ordered his henchmen to escort you back to your room. He referred to them as "Luke" and "Kiren", but he didn't explain which of them was Luke, and which one was Kiren.

You now sat idly waiting for the two to arrive, with the bare, jet-black oakwood table before you. The crimson-red placement-mat gently cradling your hands as you softly rested them upon the table.

Sylus had left soon after giving his orders, so now it is just you and your new-found crow-companion.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as you waited. You were part cat, of course you get bored easily. It definitely didn't have anything to do with having a lack of a maturity level.

Little did you know, this wait was too, a test; To see what you'd do if you were left alone.

As boredom crept in, you leaned forwards onto the table, reaching out to pet the crow that sat perched on the table.

Y/N: "Hey, little.. Uh..? Me-? Meo-? Me-thh?.. Ah, little guy. I-ah, ha.. I can't remember your name.. He, he.."

You put you fingers through the the crow's feathers; It felt as odd as it looked. The feathers had a metallic texture, it was like dragging your hand across the handles of lined-up, thin silverware. Each feather had a soft texture and had some give, yet they were sold and firm, like a folding-fan.

As you petted the crow, it made a slight machnial "Iiia" noise.

Y/N: "Aw, do yo- Ah!"

Suddenly, you could hear footsteps as you went to speak. There seems to be two people walking towards the dinning room.You jolted into a proper sitting-position, retracting your hands to sit in your lap; The reaction rote.

The door opens to reveal the two hooded people who escorted you earlier.

"Wow, you're still alive? The boss really does like you."

One of them said.

"Surviving an entire meal with the boss definitely speaks volumes."

Said the other one.

"It seems we've been tasked with escorting you, again. So, let's go."

As they spoke, they walked to you, then gestured with their heads to leave. If you weren't imagining it, One of them seemed more flamboyant than the other. Looking closer, you realize that on their hoods, they have differing numbers; "06" and "07".

As you walked down the same hallway you walk earlier, gained the courage to ask for the subordinates' names.

Y/N: "Uh, h-hey? Is it alright if I.. Ask for your names?"

"And, what would you do with that information?"

"Just telling you wouldn't be any fun."

"Yeah."

"Why don't you take a guess?"

They turned towards you, and leaned in.

These two, they seem to be the very definition of "Mischief".

Y/N: "Uh.. Um, You're Kiren and.. You're Luke?"

You pointed at each of them, guessing a random answer.

"Wrong answer! Try again!"

"You only have one chance left!"

They spoke as if you were a contestant on a game-show.

"Um, okay. Then.. You are Luke and you are Kiren."

You said, reversing who you pointed at.

"Nope! That's incorrect!"

They said in unison, laughing as the began walking again.

You let you a small "Wha-!?", before walking with a quickened pace to catch up with them.

As you continue to walk, you caught sight of a window that you were nearing; Going outside was such a scarce thing, only done for training purposes.

Luke and Kiren immediately lifted their guards when noticing your reaction when seeing the window; A glint in your eyes and your fluffy ears gave a twitch. But, after a moment, your expression changed; Eyes drifting downwards and looking dejected. After all, 'why would they let you go outside?'. The twins could understand. And, against their better judgment-

"Do you want to go over there?.. To the window?"

"We can let you."

They spoke with such fragility. They sounded nostalgic. They sounded so gentle. It was like they had just out a band-aid on a old, ugly scar, that was left as a gaping wound since it was made- Not just to cover it, but to treat it with the care it never received. Your heart, it felt tight.

It was odd, but you wanted to take this chance. It may not come again.

Y/N: "O..Okay."

They kept walking, changing the directory to stand in front of the window.

You stood in front of it, the twins stood silently behind you as you slowly came closer.

The window was clean; Shiny and reflective.

You took a glance backwards at the twins, the thought of someone standing behind you while your guard is down makes you uneasy, but they keep at a distance, which at that, you decide to move look back at the glass before you, moving even closer.

Looking at your reflection, you looked odd, but you liked it. You looked so different, you were hardly recognizable. You didn't mind it though, it.. It felt right.

You came even closer to the glass, to see the world beyond it.

Leaning in gently, you hesitantly put your hands on the glass- It's cold. You jerk your hands back at the unexpected chill. After a second, you return your hands on the glass, intakiing the coldness with curiosity.

The dark cityscape sits below. It's a marvelous sight. Your lips curved into a smile, driven by your awe. You breath comes out in little huffs, wonder spreads through your thight-feeling heart and into your nerves. Your eyes widened, sparkles of excitement igniting within them.

Under their masks, the twins wore matching -as always- soft smiles.

"You seem to be enjoying this, but..We need to get going."

Y/N: "Ah.. Oh, okay.."

The sudden statement, brought you out of your awed-state.

Feeling sort of disappointed, you solemnly walked back to your room.

Before you reached the door, the twins came in front of you; One of them stood on the side of the door where the hinges are, holding the doorknob, the other faced you while gesturing the door as if it were a win-able prize.

"Are you ready?"

They gleefully said in unison.

Y/N: "Uh? Yeah..?"

You said, your voice unsure and confused.

"TA-DA!"

The two said with a flourish.

Your breath catches your throat- Before you, on the floor of an originally bare, dark room, is a large verity of bags and boxes filled with girls' clothing, plushies, and other items.

You're frozen in shock. "Did-did they.. Do this?" You thought.

Y/N: "Are.. Are these things.. For me?"

It was self-absorbed to assume, but you had to ask.

"Of course!"

"Who else would all this belong to?"

They replied. The one with "06" on his hood picked up a pink, plush bunny toy.

"As funny as it would be, the boss probably would kill us if we gave him this!".

He said while laughing.

The other twin walk to the gift-filled area and lifted a dress.

"If the boss wears 'this', death would be worth it!"

They both laughed as they pretend to wipe tears from their masks.

Their laughter was infectious, you began to giggle, too.

Without you noticing, they both stopped to witness you smile- It wasn't the forced one you gave before, it was real. It was beautiful. It was pure. It was something rare for the twins to experience, not just because it was from you, but because of the genuine, honest, and raw enjoyment in your smile.

Y/N: "Thank you. This- This is- .. A lot.. And, so.. So nice.. Thank you, both."

Through your slightly embarrassed and awkward laughter, your sincerity seeped through.

Nobody's ever done something like this for you. Nobody's ever went to such lengths for you before. Your chest felt so tight, it, and your stomach hurt. But you couldn't help but to enjoy this feeling.

Would this feeling last, though?

Were they just tricking you into lowering your guard?

["What does the word "Home" really mean?", it's a thought that always plagued you.. Would you ever learn the answer? Could you learn the answer here?]

[zaebeecee]

The Radio Angel

by @fletchingbrilliant and ZaeBeeCee

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Read on AO3

•••

cw: on-screen mutilation and cannibalism (including an illustration)

but in Rosie’s defense I doubt anybody really cares

•••

Chapter 03 •

Something… was not right.

Vox was quite accustomed to feeling that strange and intangible incorrectness , if you could call it that, in the days that followed an Extermination. They may have had their own particular safety measures in place at VoxTek, but they were hardly unaffected by the annual purge that battered Pride’s population. Every year, the numbers were… frankly, they were absolutely devastating, the streets always noticeably more vacant until they got some more dead assholes to help flesh their population out once more. It didn’t matter if they weren’t important souls; a society was incapable of functioning without people, even a society as twisted as the one that Pentagram City had built up.

This was different. This was something more personally unsettling, a disquiet that had lingered since… He supposed the feeling started at the same moment Alastor’s radio program ended nearly twenty full minutes early. Valentino and Velvette could be as snarky as they liked about his supposed ‘obsession’ (not that they needed his permission, apparently) because Vox knew for certain that even they tuned in to listen to Alastor’s broadcast. Ever since the bastard had started his program so many years ago, he’d given a comprehensive and thorough recap of the death and destruction so entertaining that Katie Killjoy might even kiss a woman to get half the audience he garnered. It also gave Vox a significant level of insight into how Princess Charlotte’s venture was working out for her.

The hotel was standing, at least. Not only was that more than anyone had expected, he was pretty sure there were a lot of survivors who had to make good on lost bets now.

It was late afternoon when Vox sat down at the conference table with Velvette and Valentino; it wasn’t an ideal time for a meeting, but Valentino was never awake before at least one o’clock, and Vox wasn’t eager to change that any time soon. The matters on the table were the usual fare after the angels’ yearly purge, mostly discussing the changes in metrics, going over what employees they had lost, and figuring out how they were going to change up programming and cover departments until they could gather more souls in their employ. It was all rote. Routine. Boring.

Maybe that was why Vox couldn’t concentrate. More than once, he found himself watching his fish tank and completely tuning out the others, trying to pinpoint where this feeling was coming from. It didn’t make any sense. Why should he be unsettled? VoxTek had survived with minimal losses, as usual, and those that had died were replaceable (even though it would take time). There was nothing wrong, so why did he feel like something was? Vox watched Vark swim through the seaweed decorating the bottom of that section of the wall tank, clearly enjoying being out of the lockdown that hadn’t lasted more than eighteen hours. He was acting like he had been chained up for two weeks, not just curled up on Vox’s bed for a single day. The landshark had always been a dramatic little bitch, but Vox supposed he had a soft spot for those.

Velvette was carrying on about something. “And if we move the next runway up to two hours from now and put Vox in a big fluffy onesie made of the itchiest polyester I can find, then I think we'll be able to save the rest of the season, what do you think, Vox?”

“Sure,” Vox said automatically, mostly just responding to the sound of his name, before his brain caught up with him and he lifted the corner of his screen from his fist to look at her. “Wait, what?”

“You finally with us then, luv?” Velvette said, one eyebrow raised, arms folded over the table. “You've been tuning out the way Val does when we use numbers bigger than four.”

As usual, it took Valentino a few moments to catch the joke. “ Hey! ”

Vox almost laughed, the corner of his lip quirking sharply, but the urge died in moments and his expression leveled out once more. “Yeah. Yeah, no, I’m listening.” He hesitated, just slightly, before he asked, “Don’t either of you think yesterday’s extermination was strange?”

“Strange?” Velvette exchanged a look with Valentino, who shrugged, so she turned back to Vox. “Dunno what you mean. Angels came. Sinners died. Lots of screaming.”

“Although…” Valentino looked remarkably thoughtful for a moment, his eyes toward the ceiling, tapping his lower lip. “Something was sort of strange, now that you say it. Maybe it was something else… or… I don't know, but I almost felt… in a way I think it was…”

“A point please, Val,” Velvette said. 

The moth sneered. “I was getting there but you interrupted me. ”

“Velvette,” Vox said, the warning tone in his voice subdued but still carrying a level of threat that shut her up. He didn’t say anything else to her, instead turning his attention to Valentino. “It was what, Val?”

Valentino visibly relaxed when Vox showed him that modicum of patience. “When I woke up, it was before my alarm, and I almost felt like… like something had been pulled off of me that had been pushing down for a long time.” He smushed one fist into his palm by way of demonstration. “But when it was gone, I didn't feel relieved. I felt sort of… sad. ”

Velvette started to make a noise, a scoff of some kind, but cut herself off.

“This is going to sound even more crazy, Voxxie,” the moth demon continued, “but I couldn't help but think that none of those feelings belonged to me. You know?”

“…yeah. I do.” Vox took his eyes off both of his fellow Vees, instead frowning into the middle distance vaguely in front of him. “Something went wrong yesterday. We haven’t had any specific reports about anything out of the ordinary come in, have we?”

Velvette seemed to relax with a more concrete inquiry to focus on. She was rapidly scrolling through her phone with the level of speed reading only she could do. Her ball-jointed fingers clicked as she deftly navigated the tiny screen. “Now that you mention it… there was some weird chatter online after the extermination was actually over. Particularly uptown in the Wrath District with a few in Doomtown-” also called the Doomsday or Envy District “-people are chirping that they felt something odd. Like an earthquake or something, some of ‘em are saying… oh, damn. Got this too.”

She tapped on her phone and sent a local projection over the table they could all see. Several messages were moving up the screen, all talking about the same thing:

anybody else see that weird 💩 at the crapass hotel?

dude the Hazbin Motel just like blew up or smth

That light was so bright thought the fuckin angels were back 😱😱😱

Radio show died rip 📻 💀

who listens to the radio anyway

lmfao the buggles got apollo’s dodgeball of prophecy

***Hazbin Hotel

That earthquake destroyed my fcukin computer!!! (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

rip in peace dumbasses

It went on like that. The ground shaking, flashes of white light, and at least some portion of the Hazbin Hotel possibly being destroyed. And all of it coincided with the abrupt early end of Alastor's post-extermination broadcast.

Vox narrowed his eyes. An explosion ‘or something’ at the hotel? The fuck did you do this time, you old-timey bastard? “Do we have any reports on this that aren’t social media? Because if something happened out there post extermination, we need to send Tom out with a crew to get an interview with the princess. People don’t give a shit if it works but they’re very invested in watching it fail.”

Velvette smirked, gesturing with her phone as she made the screen collapse. “I guarantee you this is the most accurate shit you're gonna get this soon after the fact. Why don't you turn one of your little drones around to take a look and see if the old shack’s still in one piece?”

Of course . Vox raised his hand to the side of his head, pressing a couple of buttons on the panel as he got to his feet. Almost immediately, a bank of screens at the other end of the room lit up one after another, bright white squares that turned to snowy static before they connected to their corresponding cameras.

Vox walked around the table, looking at each of the screens in turn as he approached the desk and placed his palms flat on the wood. Out in the front, he could see those weird little egg creatures running around, carrying some kind of scrap or debris of… something. Past them, he could see Charlotte Morningstar standing in the open doorway, her arms wrapped around herself, and he could see Lucifer Morningstar’s back as he seemed to be attempting to comfort her.

Well, whatever happened, it’s done now. But what the fuck was it?

The front entrance appeared intact, as did the back, so Vox turned to the other monitors until he noticed movement. It looked like they were cleaning something up from a different part of the hotel, and Vox visually tracked one of those eggs as it moved across various camera views until it reached the southeast corner of the building.

The ground was absolutely covered with debris, mostly broken wood and severely bent metal that had scattered all across the grounds. Vox could see traces of furniture, as well, like a chair and what looked like a large chunk of desk. And, if he wasn’t imagining it, there was a lot of old electronic equipment in and amongst the detritus.

Vox felt something sick lurch in his gut at the sight. Shifting his view higher up along the side of the hotel, his suspicion was immediately proven correct; one screen in particular no longer showed that ugly-as-shit iron blister, instead just looking at the empty red sky. “The radio tower collapsed off the hotel.”

Velvette and Valentino overlapped each other as they reacted. Both sounded like they were smiling.

“Bloody hell wha-a-at?! ”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me, is he fucking dead?!! ”

“How the fuck should I know?!” Vox snapped at them, barely turning his head before looking up at the screen again. “And why would he be dead? He was alive after the extermination, the princess’s shoddy project is probably just crumbling around them.”

Vox heard a familiar knock on the door, somehow at once tentative and assertive, and he resisted the urge to sigh. Blink . His assistant often had the worst timing, and sometimes, Vox couldn’t help thinking it was somehow on purpose. “What is it? I’m busy,” he called, his eyes still on the monitor bank.

He could hear the door open just a crack, then a little more, as Blink spoke into the room from mostly outside of it. “I'm sorry, sir, but Miss Rosie of Cannibal Town is insisting on speaking with you. Immediately.”

“…Rosie?” Vox echoed, his eyes widening slightly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to Rosie outside of an Overlord meeting.

We used to talk a lot back then, didn’t we? Even if we never liked each other, we put up with it.

Vox pushed off of his desk and stepped away from the monitors, finding the command in his internal programming and shutting them off again. “Send her in, Blink.”

“Right away, sir.” His long tailed assistant bowed his head and backed away, closing the door behind him. 

“Why are you agreeing to entertain that crazy bitch?” Valentino hissed across the table. 

“Because she wouldn’t come here if she didn’t have a reason,” Vox hissed back; he considered taking his seat again, but decided against it, folding his hands behind him. “You can’t tell me you aren’t a little curious.”

Almost on top of that last word, the door opened again, and Rosie stepped through and into the Vees’ board room. It was something of an odd sight, Vox thought; with her detailed Gibson Girl dress in bright white and stark black and her white hair precisely pinned beneath a large-brimmed black hat, she looked like a beautiful and cursed china doll that didn’t belong among VoxTek’s Googie, Neo-Futurist sharp angles and bright neon lights.

Shortly after Vox had died himself, he’d undertaken the task of learning how to read the cannibal Overlord’s black, empty eyes; it had been something of a self-preservation tactic, back in the day, and was a skill he had managed to maintain even after so many decades of minimal interaction. At the moment, those dark voids were focused on him with a strange intensity that was almost as unsettling as the fact that she wasn’t smiling. “Rosie,” Vox greeted, dispensing with niceties; he had no desire to play host to her, and she would doubtless look down on any perfunctory attempt he might make. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at VoxTek before. What can I do for you?”

“Vox,” Rosie said, returning the greeting with the same air of official business. “Don’t worry, this isn’t a social call. I need to speak with you. Alone.”

“Like hell,” Valentino said, though Velvette seemed content to stay out of it, back on her phone already. The giant moth swept up to his feet. Just what Val’s particular issue with Rosie was, Vox had never figured out. “Whatever you might need to say you can say before all of us.”

Rosie kept her hands delicately folded in front of her abdomen, her face shifting in a way that told Vox she was now looking at Valentino without turning her head. “It, like most other important business, doesn’t concern you, darling,” she said, arching one eyebrow; Vox had never heard the word ‘darling’ sound so much like ‘motherfucker’ before.

Immediately, Vox felt an impending fight. She’s testy today. “Val…”

“Oh, no , you are not talking to me like that, you bitch!” Valentino ignored Vox entirely, marching up until he was glowering directly at Rosie. His wings flapped without unfurling, and he pointed at her, jeering as he did so. “You know something about what happened after the extermination, don't you? And now that you– aiiiieeeeee!! ”

Vox’s eyes widened as the sound of Valentino’s scream was punctuated by the sound of snapping and crunching bone. As Val tried to move away, Vox could clearly see the way Rosie had shoved back Val’s fur-cuffed sleeve with one hand and wrapped her other hand around his thin forearm, digging bloody gouges into his flesh with her claws that held him anchored in place as…

His entire hand is in her mouth.

Rosie had always had the (admittedly) rather impressive ability to change the size of her mouth, and while many didn’t know she could do this, Vox had seen her unhinge her jaw often enough that it was hardly surprising she had opened that maw of hers wide enough to completely engulf the hand Valentino had foolishly thrust into her face. The other Overlord was screaming in a language Vox didn’t understand, struggling to pull himself away, but he couldn’t make Rosie budge. Her teeth sank deeper into his wrist, slicing through skin and vein like razor blades, and another horrific crack filled the air as she twisted her hand one way and her head the other. She then yanked her head back, the remnants of attached skin and ligament stretching until they snapped, Valentino’s arm now ending in a torn and mangled stump as blood arced through the air and splattered the front of her dress. More blood oozed from her lower lip as she ground the now dead flesh and bone between her teeth, running down her chin and onto her dress and her once again clasped hands.

As Valentino attempted to gather himself, Vox watched in a sort of sick fascination as Rosie tipped her head back and swallowed once, twice, thrice, and he could viscerally imagine chunks of the moth’s mutilated hand sliding down her gullet and into whatever the fuck she had that functioned as a stomach.

“…you’re certainly in a mood,” he observed.

“Mmn,” Rosie began, then reached into her mouth with her thumb and forefinger, extracting a chewed-up phalange from within her throat and flicking it towards the floor at Valentino’s feet. “Now, might I have a word alone?”

Valentino was hunched over, holding his arm – the missing hand being the one he had used for just about everything – and panting wide eyed at the cannibal. “ You crazy bitch! ” he gasped, voice hitched and manic. “ Voxxie, do something!! ”

“ You've clearly done enough already, luv,” Velvette interrupted, now on her feet and at Valentino’s other side. She looked surprisingly somber. “I suggest you and I get that mess taken care of and leave these assholes to their business.”

Vox withheld a sigh. “Thank you, Velvette,” he said; he couldn’t handle dealing with Valentino right now, especially because the only thing he could think to say was that was fucking stupid of you or, alternatively, I told you that you needed to get better with all four hands .

He pivoted his body and held out his arm demonstratively, and Rosie nodded to him as she passed in the direction he indicated, not so much as sparing a glance for Valentino. Vox followed after her, bringing up a digital keypad on the black wall and entering a code that unlocked a hidden door beside it. It opened on its own, and Vox nodded Rosie through, following after her and shutting them in.

Immediately, all the other sounds faded away into blessed quietness. Vox had several offices scattered throughout the building, all of them serving their own purposes: he had the office where he did most of his actual, real work; his public office, where he met with less important people who still managed an appointment with him; his filming office, which he primarily used when speaking to the public on matters of the city or promos for new shows; and this office, which was more of a lounge and typically only used by Vox alone or as a place to entertain particularly significant guests. It was probably his favorite room in VoxTek, next to his bedroom, mostly because it didn’t have to follow the aesthetic of the rest of the business and was a place he allowed himself to indulge in his own true tastes. The room was opulent but understated, its decor minimalist even while everything was clearly quite expensive. The floor was polished blackwood, the walls rich cherrywood wainscotting that matched the rich burgundy rugs. The sitting area was all leather seating and glass-topped wood tables arranged in something of a half-circle around the only real fireplace in all of VoxTek, the mantle of which held a handful of framed photographs and an old but perfectly functional Superette radio. The only desk was a small letter-writing hutch nestled among the large personal bookshelves that lined one wall, and off in the corner was a small personal bar made of the same glass and wood as the coffee and end tables.

Vox used his internal system to adjust the light levels—he couldn’t resist having at least some tech, even in a room so thoroughly dated and antique—and gestured to the sitting area. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, offering her a handkerchief and heading towards the bar. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Don’t suppose you remember how I taught you to make a Corpse Reviver,” Rosie said, dabbing blood from her lips and chin with the delicacy of a high-society woman who just finished a delicious (but appropriately modest) meal. The blood that had poured down the front of her dress went ignored, but Vox wasn’t sure if it was simply because she knew there was nothing to be done for it at the moment, or if she liked the effect of the red splattering down her throat and chest. It certainly got the idea across, anyway.

He scoffed at her question as he grabbed a bottle of cognac. “Don’t let it go to your head, but I still keep chocolate orange bitters around just for that.”

Rosie actually laughed a little at that as she settled on one of the leather couches, but her expression turned darker again almost immediately. Vox kept one eye on her as he prepared the drinks, trying not to jump to any kind of conclusion before Rosie had the opportunity to explain. He already knew something had happened at the hotel, and if anyone would have the details, it would be Rosie. She and Alastor had always been close, and rather reliable sources had informed him that she had formed something of a close rapport with the princess in the past month or so.

But that doesn’t explain why she’s here, of all places.

Vox dropped a sphere of ice into the wine glasses and crossed to the sitting area, offering one to the other Overlord. Once she took it, he lowered himself into the armchair diagonal from her and forced himself to settle so he didn’t look overeager. “So,” he said into the inexplicably heavy silence. “I assume this must be important, after the last… private conversation we had.”

Rosie’s smirk was entirely humorless, her eyes looking even blacker in the more subdued lighting and beneath the shadow of her hat. “I haven’t changed my opinion of you, Vincent.”

“Nor I of you, Yvette.”

“This isn’t about either one of us.” Rosie cradled her drink in one hand, the fingertips of her other hand slowly tracing around the rim of the glass. “I won’t belabor the point. I assume you saw what happened at the hotel?”

“Only the aftermath,” Vox said.

Rosie nodded, but it was less confirmation and more simply thoughtful. She looked like she was doing that… thing she did that drove Vox insane, where she was caught in an internal conflict between being tactful and being forthright. Before he could tell her to just get on with it already, she said, “Alastor is dead.”

The lights in the room flickered briefly, and Vox reined himself in before his connection to the company ended up blowing the fuses and taking them off the air. He set down the glass in his hand before he broke it. “That isn’t possible.”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” Rosie said. “If you’re going to lose your temper, you can go and try to get information out of the hotel residents, and you’ll find them significantly less receptive to your bullshit than I am.”

Vox swallowed his instinctive response to that, since calling Rosie a bitch immediately on the heels of that statement wasn’t exactly politic. “...what the fuck happened?” he asked instead.

His voice suddenly sounded hollow even to his own sound receptors, and it appeared Rosie noticed, judging by the way her eyes narrowed slightly and she took a second to consider him. “They aren’t exactly sure,” she said. “After the radio broadcast terminated itself, Alastor’s soul contracts broke. When they left to find out what happened, the tower itself was completely empty, and soon after collapsed off the side of the hotel. His Majesty was there when I arrived, and apparently, he determined an alarming amount of angelic energy within the remains of the tower.”

One thought managed to pierce through the growing numbness that Vox could feel swallowing him, and he looked up sharply, focusing on her. “Alastor was assassinated by an angel outside of the Extermination?”

Rosie’s serious expression evaporated any lingering hope Vox had that this might be an incredibly sick joke. “That’s the way it looks.”

Vox pushed himself to his feet and went to the fireplace, placing his hands on the mantle and leaning forward a little. His mind was reeling, grappling with the idea of Alastor being dead ( it’s not possible, I don’t believe it ) while simultaneously trying to process this new information. “That’s a violation of their terms .”

Behind him, Rosie shifted, but it didn’t appear as though she had gotten to her feet. She was probably preparing to down her entire drink. “It is,” she agreed. “Lucifer believes they found some kind of a loophole to permit it. I presume you understand what this means, in a practical sense.” He heard the crystal of the wine glass click against her teeth.

Vox nodded slowly. “If they can kill us whenever they want, none of us are safe.”

“You should take pains to protect your people,” Rosie said. “That’s what I’m doing.” Vox didn’t answer, and the silence stretched for a brief time before she spoke again. “Currently, you’re the only other person who knows. Charlie asked me to tell a select few of the Overlords, including you.”

“Me?” Vox scoffed slightly, glancing over his shoulder a little. “I know the princess is hilariously naive, but surely even she’s noticed that Alastor and I hate each other. Shouldn’t you be telling Carmine or Zestial or something?”

“I will,” Rosie said. She wasn’t looking at him, instead slowly rotating the wine glass to watch the ice sphere roll around the interior. “She said she wanted you to know so that you could decide how you wanted to report on it without sending a crew out for any on-the-scene investigation.”

Vox turned, leaning one elbow on the mantle. “I assume they aren’t feeling very talkative at the moment.”

“Alastor is dead, Angel Dust won’t leave his room and, apparently, Husk left this morning without so much as saying goodbye to anyone. They aren’t so much ‘not talkative’ as they… well, Cherri Bomb has blown up four groups of gawkers trying to take selfies in front of the rubble, and that’s just the number I had before I headed over here. Even if you don’t care about the crew, we agreed you wouldn’t want to lose the equipment.”

“...yeah, no, shit’s expensive,” Vox said on a heavy sigh. The numbness was returning, punctuated with a sense of responsibility to his employees and his business as a whole. “All this considered, I’m surprised you only ate Val’s hand.”

Rosie almost smiled again. “I thought you’d be mad about that.”

“Yeah, well… I guess if he didn’t want that to happen, he shouldn’t have offered you an hors d'oeuvre.”

“I have a certain little weakness for finger sandwiches.”

Vox made a noise somewhere between a brief laugh and a scoff. “That’s disgusting.”

“Only because his meat isn’t very good.” She set her glass down and got back to her feet. “I suppose that’s really all I can tell you right now. If they find out anything else, I’ll make sure to communicate it to you.”

Vox watched her head for the door, only managing to voice the most nagging question he had once she had almost touched the handle. “Why?” he asked, and Rosie stilled, turning her head just enough to show she was listening, but not enough for Vox to see her face. “Why did you come to me first?” he clarified. “Why would you… want to keep me updated?”

“I don’t,” Rosie said easily. “Not really. Frankly, I don’t really care either way what you think or how this affects you. But…” Her voice trailed off for a second. “...you were important to Alastor once. You were his best friend. Even though I never liked you, there was I time I thought that the two of you could have even…”

Vox waited for her to finish that sentence and realized, after a long moment, that he was holding his breath.

But Rosie didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she said, “I know you’re aware of how your friendship ending hurt him, even if he never let himself realize that he cared. And, for all these years, I’ve liked to believe that it hurt you too, even if you never realized it yourself. …Alastor didn’t let many people care about him. Even if it’s true that you hate him, that’s still a level of emotional investment that most people don’t have for him. I want someone to know what really happened. I want someone to care what happened. …even if that someone is you.”

With that, she took hold of the handle and let herself out. For a brief moment, Vox could hear the electric hum of the building, but then the door closed and he was left in that heavy and deafening silence again. Left with nothing but his own thoughts, Vox felt…

…he didn’t know what he felt.

He finished his drink. He left the room. He went downstairs to the medical ward and listened to the very nervous medical tech inform him that the nature of Valentino’s wound meant the hand might never grow back, or if it did, it might never be the same. Vox considered letting the staff inform Val about that little detail, then remembered how hard it was to find any competent medical professionals down here, and went to give the bad news himself.

Vox had work. 

That afternoon, Katie Killjoy reported on the death of the Radio Demon, and for the first time in memory, Vox made the conscious decision not to tune in. Apparently, the broadcast was very funny and made no mention of angels, and frankly, that was all he really wanted to hear about it.

Rumors circulated wild and fast around VoxTek, both about the nature of the attack on the hotel with speculation flying about who could have managed to take down the Radio Demon of all people, as well as what the fuck had happened to Valentino’s hand. As the week progressed, Vox dedicated himself to make sure everything stayed business as usual; all of this chatter would die down soon enough, and once it did, he wouldn’t be constantly reminded of it.

Angel Dust returned to work at the end of the week. Vox had never seen the Sinner in such an obviously terrible state (at least, one that hadn’t been induced by drugs), holding himself like he was suffering from the worst hangover Hell had ever seen and going so far as to ignore the snide comments thrown at him about his appearance and even blandly submitting to Valentino’s clipped and pissy demands without any pushback. Everything about him seemed… hollow.

That was, of course, until Vox made an off-handed comment about Alastor’s death.

It was in the lobby, of all places, and Vox found himself accosted by a small gaggle of reporters from some magazine and newspaper reporters that had come in from the other Pride cities and more than one other Ring; it was easy to forget how much impact Sinners managed to have in other parts of Hell, what with their inability to leave Pride, but both VoxTek and Alastor’s broadcasts had made their way at least as far down as Greed, possibly lower.

Some Hellborn was asking him about the death of the Radio Demon, and Vox dismissed it with a laugh and a comment about the airwaves no longer being clogged by his inane rambling. Another reporter started speaking, but he was interrupted by Angel Dust shoving his way through the crowd at an inelegant run, and Vox could do little but take a shocked step backwards before Angel Dust leaped at him, dragging a set of clawed hands through his casing and across part of his face with an enraged scream. Vox staggered back, pain radiating through him alongside the absolute disbelief that Angel Dust had just attacked him, an Overlord, in his own fucking territory , and actually hurt him.

It was lucky for him that he made good on his first shot, because he didn’t get a second. When Angel Dust tried to hit him again, Vox backhanded the Sinner with a hand crackling with blue electricity, sending him flying backwards and sliding across the lobby floor before laying there unmoving.

The headlines about the incident… were less than flattering, to say the least. Valentino screamed at him for a full hour after he found out that Vox’s attack was going to leave a large scar on the side of Angel Dust’s face, but Vox almost felt a sense of… was it something close to respect? The idea of respecting Angel Dust was ludicrous, but he couldn’t imagine it was anything else.

After another few weeks, Valentino decided his little pet was much too wilful and tried to order him to move back to VoxTek. Princess Charlie intervened, and after a very long argument that Charlie ended with the phrase ‘don’t make me get my father involved in this’, they managed to come to an agreement that Velvette laughingly referred to as joint custody. Angel Dust would live at VoxTek for a lunar month, then at the Hazbin Hotel for the next lunar month, and so on. Despite agreeing to the arrangement, Valentino wasn’t happy, and Vox couldn’t help noticing how much Angel Dust was limping while off camera during the time he lived at the tower again.

It wasn’t his business.

When the next Extermination came, once again, the Hotel managed to fight off the threat of angelic retribution, and it seemed that surviving two attacks began to make the rest of Pride sit up and notice that maybe the princess wasn’t as stupid as everyone had assumed. It wasn’t long before they started getting more guests, though reports suggested that they primarily ended up being short-term with only a few actually becoming new residents. Vox would have killed to get an interview with any of them to find out what was going on, but Rosie had been very correct about one thing: he really didn’t want to risk his equipment.

Another year passed, and then another, and suddenly, Vox realized that almost ten years had passed since Alastor’s death and they were now staring down the proverbial barrel of yet another Extermination. They were a week out, and already people were beginning their annual panic; the elevators to the other Rings were busy transporting the Hellborn who didn’t want to risk anything out of Pride as well as the Hellborn who wanted to take advantage of their immunity and piss the angels off into Pride.

As he sat at his desk, staring at the work he needed to do without actually seeing any of it, Vox wondered… if the Exorcists were testing the water to see how far they could push their luck, how long would it be before they decided to get rid of a few Hellborn, too?

I don’t think the Exorcists would be prepared for the Goetia, let alone an actual Sin.

He reached down and pressed on his intercom button. “Blink,” he said. “Get in here.”

Blink was prompt as always, not bothering with a verbal confirmation. He had truly been the one to adapt the most quickly to the change in his boss’ demeanor nearly a decade ago. The door opened and he was there, tapping his cranial implant to cease standard recording and stowing his tablet under his arm. His left eye shimmered, the red and blue a reflection of the one who made it that way. 

“What do you need from me, sir?”

Vox studied his assistant for a long moment, but as always, he detected no hint of hesitation nor doubt on the Sinner’s face. But then, Blink had held this position for more than two decades for a very good reason, hadn’t he? “Go down to the R&D department and tell them to prepare a final demo for their new security system tomorrow, and remind them that their hard shipment date is Thursday. Idyll has been forgetting to check her emails lately and I won’t have them miss their deadline. Also, I need you to go down to Marketing and get their projections for this year’s exorcism. Get them directly from Syzygy, because I’m fairly positive Umbra has been tweaking numbers to get their budget increased.”

Blink made several taps on his tablet, making note of everything Vox said with swift ease. “Absolutely, sir, I'll get on all of that right away.” He then hesitated, looking from his tablet to his employer once, twice. “Um… sir?”

One of the things Vox liked about Blink was that he had no time or patience for anything unnecessary. He didn’t get distracted by idle water cooler talk, he didn’t stay longer in any department than he needed to… and he never asked questions unless he thought they were actually important. That was why, instead of just dismissing him, Vox turned his attention back towards him. “What is it?”

His assistant looked uncomfortable. But it wasn't in the same way Vox had grown accustomed to seeing every now and then. Not in the way that said 'I have moral objections to what you're doing’ that he was prone to in the early days. No, this was something else.

“I just… I don't know exactly how best to put this… Are you… alright, Mister Vox?”

Vox… wasn’t expecting that. When was the last time someone had actually inquired after his well-being? He could hardly remember, he just knew that the voice that had asked him so long ago was… small. “…tell me something, Blink,” he said, instead of answering, folding his hands on top of the desk and nodding a little towards the bank of windows across from his desk. “When you think of the upcoming Extermination… not Exterminations in general, but the one this year, the one coming in a week… what do you feel? There is no correct or incorrect answer.”

“I…” Blink looked out those windows, his own gaze turning far away. Did he ever go outside on his own anymore, in the years he'd been working for Vox? “It's hard to feel… anything , I guess. I used to get scared, really scared, until I started at VoxTek. Then, after the… the incident , I sort of felt that old fear again, kind of creeping back in. But it wasn't the same. It was muted, squashed down in favor of just keeping things moving while everyone else was too panicked to keep up. Now, now it just feels like a different version of Sweeps Week. There's stress, things will be chaotic for a bit, but… then it'll be over. Nothing will really change. It never really does.”

“…yeah,” Vox said distantly. “It all feels so…”

pointless

He closed his eyes for just a moment and sat back in his chair, folding his hands on his knee. “…there’s something else I would like you to do,” he said. “But it’s outside the purview of your usual duties, because it involves… a delivery of a sensitive nature. It isn’t something that I can trust to anything other than a hard copy delivered by hand. You can refuse, since it’s not actually part of your job.”

Blink looked surprised when he turned back to Vox. Perhaps it was the strange nature of the request, perhaps it was being given the choice to refuse. But the surprise soon subsided and gave way to certainty. “I'll do it, sir. Anything. Just name it.”

Vox resisted the urge to smile. Blink was easy for him to manipulate; it was that fact, primarily, that had gotten him fast-tracked into the position he had held for so long. But now, it seemed the loyalty the other Sinner held was serving a completely different purpose.

He opened his desk and reached into it, pulling out a manila envelope, its contents already sealed. It had been sitting there for well over three years, and truth be told, Vox wasn’t actually certain what had made him decide to act on it now. He offered it to Blink, leaning forward just a little on his desk. “This needs to be done after hours, because the other Vees aren’t aware of this and I’d like to keep it that way. I want you to take this to the Hazbin Hotel and deliver it to Charlotte Morningstar, and only Charlotte Morningstar.”

“To Charlo– yes, sir, I will. You can count on me.” Blink took the envelope like it was the most valuable thing in the world in that moment, laying it carefully beneath his tablet before stowing both securely under his arm again. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

Vox folded his hands on the desk again. It’s done. You wouldn’t have kept it for so long if you didn’t know it needed to be done . “Most of the residents probably won’t have a very warm reception for you, but don’t let it deter you. Just tell them that I told you to speak to the princess and didn’t give you any further details; that should discourage them from trying to interrogate you, at least.”

Blink nodded low. “Not a problem, Mister Vox. I'll notify you the moment it's done.” He straightened, crossed to the door, and for the first time in many years, he paused there, looking over his shoulder to glance at his boss one last time. Then he walked away, his eel-like tail curling around the frame before vanishing, the door softly clicking shut behind him.

Vox let out a long sigh as he leaned back in his chair, tilting his head backwards until it was resting against the leather. He resisted the nearly overwhelming urge to just shut himself off, instead allowing his eyes to close for just a few moments before he opened them again. He pushed himself to his feet, straightened his blazer, and headed for the door.

If there was one constant that would always remain, it was that one needed to keep up appearances.

•••

Every nerve in Blink’s body was on high alert, tingling with the awareness that he was walking directly into a hive of his boss’ most hated enemies. It didn’t matter that Alastor was gone – apparently destroyed in a mysterious event that held some darkness for Vox that Blink couldn’t even begin to comprehend – these were the ones who stood so starkly against everything Vox had been trying to achieve. There was a bitterness there, one so foul that even speaking the names of any of the guests or employees sparked a moodiness in the Overlord that could well end in the dismemberment of one or several members of VoxTek personnel. Not that these outbursts carried the fire they once did. Blink thought sadly about how nearly gleeful Vox could get when entering one of his tantrums. Not anymore. Something shifted in the Sinner those ten years ago, and Blink was afraid that what he had once been was now gone forever.

He swallowed hard as he looked up at the doors to the hotel, the building quite large and even imposing since some remodels had been done. There was still a radio tower on the eastern side of the building. It was new, different from the one that had collapsed ten years ago. And yet, to Blink’s knowledge anyway, it had never once been used.

This is for Vox. He trusted you with this. No one else, just you.

His neural implant hummed in a way he had come to find comforting, and he grabbed hold of the knocker and pounded against the door.

There were sounds coming from inside the hotel, noises that suggested a level of activity probably not terribly conducive to the supposedly restive nature of a place like this. Blink could hear voices, then there was a click of the door opening, and it was pulled back to reveal… nobody. At least, nobody until Blink saw three of those strange egg creatures he knew to belong to the Sinner called Sir Pentious roll across the ground like they just toppled from standing atop each other in a tower.

One of the eggs slid across the ground, rotating like a slowly-spinning record, before stopping in front of Blink and staring at him upside down. “Hello!” the egg said in a voice that cracked like a prepubescent boy, sounding for all the world like this was normal.

“Oh. Uhm. Hello… sir?” Blink blinked in confusion. “I… I'm looking for Miss Morningstar. It's very important that I see her immediately.”

“Oh! You wanna see Devil Junior Boss Lady!” one of the other eggs said. The other two hauled the third up to his feet, before they all ran off inside, one shouting, “Devil Junior Boss Lady! A guy with a computer on his head wants to see you!” As the door was open, it was pretty clear Blink was at least being given cursory permission to enter.

As he walked into the lobby and looked around—it really was extremely opulent, which wasn’t that surprising, considering who ran it—Blink saw what looked like a group of people leaving down a hallway, probably the source of whatever noise he was hearing.

In fact, besides the eggs, there seemed to only be one other person in the immediate vicinity. Blink had never actually seen Angel Dust outside of VoxTek, the company’s premier porn star always either working or in some form of schmoozing mode every time Blink laid eyes on him. So it was… odd, actually, seeing him behind a hotel desk and leaned over like he was writing in a ledger.

His clothing was more than just casual, it was downright simple, a black sweater that hung off of one shoulder made of some kind of chunky material and his usual high socks and a pair of heeled boots. But even at this distance, Blink could see one particular accessory, something almost impossible to ignore: Angel Dust had the Radio Demon’s microphone staff, worn strapped to his back and apparently serving no purpose other than being on his person.

“Hey, Frank, where’s the fire?” Angel Dust asked without looking up from his work, his voice flat and disinterested.

“The new guy wants to see Devil Junior Boss Lady!” one of the eggs answered as they scampered past the desk.

“…the new what?” Angel Dust muttered, watching them go, before he looked up and— “The fuck are you doing here?” he asked the moment he saw Blink, his voice immediately losing its flat affectation to be layered with hostility.

Blink jumped, clutching his leather bag close to his chest. What in Hell is he doing with that thing…? Vox would– He shook the thought away, forcing himself not to stare at it. “I– I have official business with Charlie Morningstar. That’s all. I’m not here to– I mean I don’t have any– I won’t be long.”

Angel Dust raised an incredibly skeptical eyebrow. “ You . You have official business with Charlie.” He leaned forward on one elbow, gesturing at Blink with a loose hand and looking unimpressed. With their relative positions, Blink could clearly see the electricity scar on the right side of his face; Angel Dust didn’t seem to be even attempting to conceal it. “If Vox is thinkin’ this’d be a good business venture, he’s about ten years too late.”

He tried not to let his eyes wander to the scar either. When he'd seen him at Valentino’s studio, it must have been covered by makeup. But here, he didn't seem to care at all. 

“I am not at liberty to discuss anything with anyone but Miss Morningstar,” Blink said in his best ‘default press response’ voice.

“Yeah, I bet,” Angel Dust said suspiciously. It sounded almost like innuendo, somehow, but Blink couldn’t imagine what he was implying.

He turned his face away slightly at the sound of a door opening, and Blink could hear voices approaching before two figures rounded a corner. The first, he knew from the news and from her brief appearance on VoxTek’s news program more than a decade ago; Charlie Morningstar looked much the same as she always had, if she seemed substantially less wide-eyed and naive than she had back then. The second was an imp. He was a well-dressed imp, but he was… well, he was an imp, and one that Blink recognized from a series of commercials the company had been running on and off for several years.

“If you wanted to set up on the lawn, that would be fine,” Princess Charlie was saying. “This place gets hit pretty hard, but we definitely have the space.”

“I’ll let you know once I figure out what the lovebirds can get on order from Carmine,” the imp said casually. “Honestly, we’re just tickled fucking pink for the setup, your hotel is an angel magnet. Those goddamn sex-happy bitches are gonna regret this bet.”

The princess actually laughed. “Alright. Angel can give you the schematics you wanted. Thanks, Blitzø.”

“Don’t sweat it, Char.”

Princess Charlie turned towards the desk, then stopped, her eyes widening when she saw Blink. “Oh! Hello,” she said, smiling and raising her hand. “The Egg Bois said someone wanted to talk to me. I’m guessing that’s you?”

He nodded, more relieved than he could say to be able to turn his attention away from both Angel Dust and the strange imp. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve come here on behalf of my employer. I wonder if I could speak with you in private? It will only take a few moments.”

“Your employer?” Princess Charlie asked, tilting her head.

“Vox,” Angel Dust said loudly enough to cut into their space, and the imp laughed at his tone.

The princess’s eyes widened. “Oh! Ohhhh. Okay, sure,” she said with a nod. “Back here.”

She led Blink back the way she had come, taking him through a short hallway and then through a door into an office. It was absolutely nothing like an office at VoxTek, the whole place organized chaos with boxes stacked on mismatched filing cabinets and tchotchkes on every flat surface that didn’t have papers on them. A corkboard on the wall had some handwritten lists, apparently activity schedules for the hotel, as well as some photographs that seemed to be of the hotel staff (or former staff, in some cases, perhaps).

“I’m really sorry about the— the this ,” Princess Charlie said, picking up a box to move it out of the only chair in front of the desk. “I don’t use this much, it was— It’s kinda mostly storage now.” She put the box down and rounded on him, eyes suddenly wide. “I am so sorry, I’m being really rude. I haven’t even asked your name. I’m Charlie.”

“Not at all, ma’am, I assure you. I’m–” No one ever asked so he forgot for a moment “–Blink. It’s a pleasure, your– Miss Morningstar. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”

“Of course, no problem!” she said, waving a little. “And just Charlie, no need for all that. Please, have a seat.” She hesitated, then pulled the chair out from behind the desk, rolling it around until it was on the same side as the one she had offered to Blink. She sat down and then squeaked as it tried to lean back rather dramatically with her still in it, catching herself with the desk and using it to straighten up again. “Yep, it’s still broken. So! What can I do for you, Blink?”

Blink felt that sitting would suggest a longer stay than he intended, but he wasn't about to deny a request either, so he took a seat.

“I won't take up too much of your time,” Blink said again, opening his bag and withdrawing the manila envelope. “Mister Vox asked that I deliver this directly to you. I don't know what's inside, but he made it clear it was very important it come to your hands and your hands alone.”

“…Vox did?” Princess Charlie took the envelope from him, her eyes wide with curiosity. She tilted her head and opened it up, pulling out a piece of paper that looked like a hand-written letter and another that Blink recognized as a broadcasting schedule. As the princess read the letter, her eyes went from wide to confused, then her expression sobered considerably into something rather serious. “…I see,” she said, her tone subdued. She glanced at the schedule, then tucked both items back into the envelope. “…please let Vox know that I’ll meet with him at his earliest convenience. …actually…”

She got to her feet and went around the desk again, grabbing a notepad and a pen. She wrote something down quickly, then pulled the note free, folding it up and pressing her palm flat against it. When she handed it to Blink, it had magically been adorned with the seal of House Morningstar, Lucifer’s symbol clear in the red wax.

“Here,” she said. “If you could give that to him, I’d appreciate it. But… please do tell him that I’m not the one he’s going to need to convince, ultimately.”

Blink accepted the sealed note, the paper seeming extremely heavy, somehow. He stared from the seal to the princess. Not the only one … just what was Vox proposing? “I… yes, ma'am. I'll do that.”

Her smile returned, then, but her eyes remained serious. Haunted, somehow, like her mind was somewhere else. “Thank you, Blink. Was there anything else? I’m sure being Vox’s assistant is a lot, so I don’t want to keep you.”

“Trust me, Princess Charlie,” Blink said, smiling as he rose from his seat. “There is nothing else I would rather be.”

“Oh?” She blinked twice, then smiled in return, getting to her feet as well. “Good! I’m glad. Everyone should enjoy their work, I think. Come on, I’ll walk with you back to the lobby.”

Blink held his smile as he walked by Charlie’s side, but as soon as he fell back a step, he let it slowly shrink. She didn’t understand what he meant, not really. But then again, he never expected anyone ever would. Especially not the one I wish would… more than anything. “Thank you for being so welcoming, Princess. Ah, Charlie. I know that your establishment and VoxTek haven’t historically had the most… positive relationship.”

The princess visibly deflated a bit at that, her smile turning sad as she raised one hand and scratched at her cheek with her index finger. “Ah… no, unfortunately there’s always been a lot of… tension, what with Angel’s contract and Al’s…” She trailed off, but it was clear she hadn’t cut herself off or misspoken. She cleared her throat and clasped her hands together, her smile returning. “But I still believe that anyone is welcome here at the hotel for any reason, no matter their history. We even rent rooms to anyone who just needs one for a while, even if they don’t want to try for redemption! So you’re always welcome here too, Blink, if you ever have any need.”

In the lobby again, where Charlie’s companions were still lurking about, clearly suspicious and curious as to what they were meeting about, Blink slowed to a stop, looking at the princess with even more disbelief than before. “That… that is very kind of you. …Thank you. Again. I will be sure to tell Vox about how understanding you’ve been.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really!” She waved her hands in front of her, the color that seemed to always be in her cheeks growing darker. “Just tell Vox I said hello and that I’ll speak with him soon. And thanks for bringing that by so quickly.”

“What?” Angel Dust called from several feet away.

“None of your business, Nosey Nadine!” Princess Charlie said, flapping her hand at him.

Blink willed himself to look once again at Angel Dust. Valentino’s star had long been an icon of VoxTek’s entire operation, despite Vox’s deep rooted hatred for the Sinner. Blink arrived after Angel Dust’s employment began, but the vitriol seemed so much more mild back then. It grew over time, as Valentino pushed Angel Dust into more and more of his productions, until there wasn’t a film that he didn’t at least provide a cameo for. (Notably there was the High and Mighty Aphrodite series of lesbian films, where Angel Dust made an appearance as a professional dog walker, just so he could walk past the camera, which was sure to linger lecherously on his backside. Blink never pretended to understand filmmaking.) And then… then, Angel Dust moved out of the tower and into this Hotel. Blink thought that it would cause Vox relief, and initially, it seemed to. But that didn’t last. It wasn’t long at all after that… after the Radio Demon returned… then Vox’s vendetta reached a fever pitch. Even now, with his boss’s diminished energy, that bitterness remained.

Perhaps it was because he was just that used to being stared at, or maybe it was just that he thought Blink beneath his notice, but Angel Dust looked as though he was thoroughly absorbed in whatever he was thinking about instead of the Hotel-related business he was clearly staring at. His jaw leaned against one loosely-held fist, his eyes staring vacantly towards the top of the concierge desk; if Blink didn’t know better, he would say Angel Dust looked dead inside. The porn star was usually quite good at keeping up public appearances—Blink had witnessed him go from being screamed at and thrown around by Valentino to immediately traipsing around the building as though he’d never had a care in his life—and the fact that he was so clearly wearing whatever he was or wasn’t feeling on his sleeve was a little disturbing.

The next moment, his eyes flicked up and locked on Blink’s, and there was a solid second of that utter nothingness being projected at him before the hostility returned. “Whaddya want?”

That lump in his throat came back, the one he used to get all the time in the early days. It was a sign of weakness, a sign that he couldn’t stomach the line of work he’d volunteered for. Don’t forget Blink, you asked for this.

“Nothing. Angel Dust. Have a good day.”

It wasn’t until he was back within actual city limits that he let himself breathe normally again. That hollow look in Angel Dust’s eyes was haunting him the whole way, and it continued to do so until he was back in the comfortable familiarity of VoxTek, nestled within the walls of V Tower. He’d completed his task, and such a personal request from his boss felt like it would warrant reporting directly to Vox, but something inside told him not to bother him. A simple message was all he would want anyway.

Maybe I’m worried that I’ll see the look Vox has whenever he thinks no one is looking. Maybe I’m worried that it will look the same.

It wasn’t worth thinking about. Instead, he would do what he always did. He nodded to himself as he felt Vox’s eyes following him through the posters and screens that lined the halls. It was what VoxTek always meant even though it was never precisely what they said: Trust us to think for you.

•••

[barbatosgossipsection]

I'm not AGAINST incorrect quotes as a form of shitpost. They're low effort high reward by nature but man some of you aren't even trying!!! You're just slapping their names into a generator and copy pasting whatever lolfunny conversation from a sitcom it gives you??? You could at least consider which characters would actually say what and which way round would be funniest

Or... hear me out... you could make your own jokes. Some of these quotes are so rote and circulated by now that they're not even funny anymore, they're just tired. Let them retire. Make something from your heart

— Anon

[the-perfect-wagnerite-again]

Hello! Why didn’t you like guns germs and steel? I was thinking of reading it but I just wanted a heads up. Thank you a lot!

So it's not that it's a bad book exactly, but it's certainly not great. A good comparison would be the narrative of the American Revolution that you learned about in elementary and middle school. The particular facts, dates, and rote recitation of individual events is probably mostly correct, but the narrative structure that enframes and coheres those isolated nodes of information is entirely without historical merit.

In Diamond's case, the narrative that he chooses to use to interpret all facts and events that he considers relevant to the story of human development is geographical distribution, to the explicit exclusion of any other vector of influence. To this end, Diamond onboards plainly incorrect assumptions about the human species (such as the assumption that all human beings are neurologically identical) and begs the question on the material causes of nonmaterial developments (religious practice is an outgrowth of material circumstances, the reverse is never mentioned).

A particular peeve I have with Diamond is his out-of-hand dismissal of IQ as a legitimate measure of intelligence. In his introduction, he glibly slides past IQ tests as unimportant trivia quizzes, as if the reason the natives of New Guinea perform poorly is because such tests are asking subjects to identify Bach fugue subjects or determine mathematical operation orders. Diamond is well aware, as is anyone who has ever taken an IQ test, that such exams measure abstract cognitive power through such problems as pattern-recognition and spatial reasoning, problems utterly divorced from cultural influence or environmental factors. There is, to date, no measure of cognitive aptitude as accurate and correlative with intelligence as IQ - which is precisely why we use it. Those who assume a priori that all human beings innately have identical neurological profiles are obligated to ignore this fact, because the reality of performance disparities between groups is politically inconvenient for their emotionally-informed assumption. It is with this dismissal of reality that Diamond can assert such absurdities as "New Guinea natives might actually be smarter than most modern Europeans" (this is based, as far as I can tell, exclusively on Diamonds personal experience with the local tribesmen of Papua New Guinea during his excursions there).

With that in mind, every relevant fact that Diamond selects as a necessary step in the development of human societies is "true" in the sense that, in a vacuum, there is mostly likely a positive truth-value to the individual assertions he presents. Most inventions are accidental. Most technologies are spread through cultural exchange. Most agricultural developments depend on beasts of burden. All of this is true. In aggregate, Diamond takes these facts as excuses to explain away the poor development of sub-Saharan Africans and reframe the advancements of Europeans as the products of chance, accident, and luck.

I would say that the biggest flaw of the book is Diamond's position that geographical distribution is the ONLY factor in human development, rather than one factor of many. The spiritual drive of a people, its native psychometric capacity, and its coevolutionary characteristics are every bit as important as its access to material resources, if not more important ( e.g. as regulatory vectors for those resources in the first instance). Read it with a heaping pile of salt.

[mira-rachel]

MASTERLIST

Fandoms:

Undertale, Hetalia, Countryhumans, Creepypasta, BNHA/MHA, Harry Potter, Ouran High School Host Club, Alice Academy, Poppy Playtime, Dollmare,

Reqs

Yandere alphabet

Soulswap DT verse

-

Sketches: [ 1 ]

Dream: [ 2 ]

Incorrect Quotes: [ 1 ], [ 2 ], [ 3 ], [ 4 ], [ 5 ], [ 6 ]

Scenarios: [ 1 ]

Undertale Dungeon AU

Headcannons: [ 1 ],

Rise Of The Empires CH AU [rote au]

Headcannons [ 1 ], [ 2 ], [ 3 ]

Dynasty AU

Character's [ 1 ]

Hetalia

Benimaru Kirkland HC [ 1 ], [ 2 ]

Arts

Roundmare [UT/DT]

Strawberry? [UT]

Shark Eduard/Hetalia OC [Hetalia]

Gangsta Eduard [Hetalia]

Idk, pic of Reaper? [UT]

Random Writings

Rants [ 1 ],

Humans are parasites? [Theory]

[majesticbullshit]

When I was in second grade, my neurodivergence was having a bigger impact on my schooling experience. I'm told that my first grade teacher let me slide a bit, but that that time was over and now I needed to make improvements. I found it difficult to engage with any of the material. My mom had to have more and more meetings with my teacher, discussions of me being retained were thrown around.

I lay a large amount of credit for my improvement in that era at the feet of Dragon Ball. My older brother was an avid comic fan, and on a trip to the comics shop I saw the then comic book formatted issues of Dragon Ball. The cover art immediately drew me in, and for the first time I was reading on my own initiative. I didn't understand to read them right to left yet, so you can bet your ass I was confused at first, but I read them incorrect cover to incorrect cover enough times to recite them by rote.

That was my introduction to the idea that reading could actually be something that one can enjoy, not just something one has to do because a teacher is telling them to. Dragon Ball comics became the incentive my mother would buy me if I brought my grades up. I was watching fucked up fan subs of the anime one single frame at a time on my grandma's shit ass Internet, but reading captions all the same.

Reading Dragon Ball lead to reading Spider-Man comics, which lead to reading (and re-reading ad nauseam, have I mentioned the neurodivergence?) The Eyewitness Story of Spider-Man by Michael Teitelbaum, which lead to reading every single Eye Witness animal book, which lead to novels, which lead me to where I am today, my living room littered with bookshelves (and piles of unread books that I'm going to get to, of course)

I think of the butterfly effect Dragon Ball had on me and it almost scares me how much that one comic with the sick cover set my life in motion. If I never found an earnest love of reading, how much harder would college have been, would I have my current career in education, etc etc.

I am where I am today at least partially due to the work of Akira Toriyama. It felt only right to eulogize him. Thank you, and rest in peace.

[rinshiroufan]

I've come to the conclusion recently that eloquent and sophisticated essays providing apologia for Rin/Shirou are pointless. It scarcely matters how compelling and articulate the argumentation is, or how well the passages adduced bolster the central thrust of the lucubration, if someone simply didn't initially understand Rin, they never will. Not really. I have lost track of how many times I have managed to "sway" someone around to appreciating Rin and the UBW romance more, with their proving themselves to be perfunctorily adroit at regurgitating my own prolix ramblings, and even rhetorically gifted at insufflating their own essays with impressive rhetorical flourish and ornate, evocative imagery, only for them to subsequently demonstrate themselves as congenitally incapable of truly applying what they had learned (through rote memorization) to reach deeper insights about the character on their own. If I didn't hold their hand like a fucking baby and condescended to them, they would never realize their errors.

Rin/Shirou is something that you simply intuitively understand, or you don't. You can certainly produce analyses, but you should never do so with the expectation that that is going to truly convince anyone. I certainly don't think the romance was a particularly abstruse and opaque part of the story, but for some reason it does appear that one needs access to mystical arcane means to comprehend it. But really, what's the point of deservedly singing the praises of Your distortion if you're going to spew bullshit like Rin was adapted well in the HF films (remember, it doesn't matter how much you explain to someone the nuances of Rin's character in HF and how her relationship with Shirou is crucial to groking her out, they'll still see her as nothing more than a support pillow for Sakura (the sisters storyline really was a mistake), and Rin is nothing but that in the HF films, so it works out for them right) or just spew factually incorrect, easily disprovable nonsense like "Shirou doesn't stay with Rin or settle down to have a family with her in UBW" (could the UBW ending poem and anime finale be more explicit, you morons?)...?

And this admittedly enough doesn't apply simply to Rin. I am perfectly willing to admit that I myself have many blindspots and there are many characters that I appreciate on a technical level but cannot confidently say I meaningfully comprehend (not just in FSN, but in general). The difference would ultimately be however that I simply don't discuss those subjects and characters. But some feel compelled to pontificate at length about Rin and spread contumely against her, whether intentionally or unintentionally. Just please shut the fuck up and don't discuss her at all if you're too obtuse to get it.

Anyway, I intend to write something on the underappreciated aspects of Rin and Archer's character dynamic, and its role in UBW. Been planning it for months, but things kept coming up.

[burr-ell]

thesis: incorrect quotes are only funny when they're adding something to both source materials. data: the "snake juice is basically rat poison" scene from parks and rec can either be rote and predictable or absolutely hilarious depending entirely on who you cast as ron

[fitzbelovedhangover]

Imagine a scene in the future potential Bee book, with Bee, 12, at school:

Teacher: children, children... so today we are gonna talk about prophets and catalysts... In our History, there were plenty of them, some were close friends, some hated each other, some didnt care...But one pair particularly stayed in our hearts as true legends, gone a few years ago, way too soon...-winks at Bee- The pair of the Bastard Prince and the Golden Jester...

Bee: oh boy, not again...💀💀💀

[infodreamvision]

Your CLAT 2026 Victory Blueprint: Premier Coaching in South Delhi at Key Campus

For every ambitious student in South Delhi envisioning a impactful and rewarding career in law, the Common Law Admission Test (CLAT) stands as the pivotal entrance. It's more than just an exam; it's the gateway to India's most prestigious National Law Universities (NLUs) and a life of legal distinction. Succeeding in this rigorous, competition-heavy test demands not just aspiration, but a meticulously planned strategy, unyielding dedication, and, most importantly, expert guidance that understands every nuance of the exam. This is precisely the unwavering commitment of Key Campus, in an exclusive partnership with Deducation Endeavor. We are the architects of success for CLAT coaching in South Delhi, offering a program specifically designed to ensure your triumph in CLAT 2026 and beyond.

CLAT 2026: The Race Begins Now – What You Need to Master

The Consortium of National Law Universities continually refines the CLAT to ensure it precisely assesses aptitude for legal studies. With CLAT 2026 applications opening in July 2025 and the exam tentatively scheduled for December 7, 2025, proactive, informed preparation is your greatest asset. Here's what future legal minds need to conquer:

120 Questions, 120 Minutes: The CLAT UG test consists of 120 multiple-choice questions to be completed in a strict 2-hour timeframe. This format is a direct challenge to your speed, accuracy, and strategic time allocation.

Offline Mode: The examination is conducted in the traditional offline (pen-and-paper) mode. Proficiency in OMR sheet marking and comfort with a physical test environment are crucial.

Five Critical Competency Zones: The syllabus is meticulously structured into five core areas, each designed to evaluate distinct analytical and reasoning abilities indispensable for a legal career:

English Language: Beyond basic grammar, this tests deep comprehension, inference, and summarization of complex passages.

Current Affairs including General Knowledge: Demands a razor-sharp awareness of national and international developments, legal current events, and foundational static GK.

Legal Reasoning: Not about rote legal knowledge, but your ability to analyze legal principles, apply them to hypothetical scenarios, and draw logical conclusions.

Logical Reasoning: Challenges your critical thinking, argument analysis, and ability to identify patterns and inferences within provided passages.

Quantitative Techniques: Tests your foundational mathematical skills (up to Class 10th), focusing on interpretation and application in data sets, graphs, and propositions.

Precision Marking: A +1 mark for correct answers and a -0.25 mark for incorrect ones underscores the importance of accuracy and calculated attempts.

At Key Campus, our coaching for CLAT 2026 is built around these pillars, transforming challenges into opportunities for excellence.

The Key Campus Differentiator: Your Premier CLAT Coaching Destination in South Delhi

In the bustling academic heart of South Delhi, Key Campus isn't just another coaching center; it's a strategically designed ecosystem for CLAT success. Our distinctive approach sets us apart as the definitive choice for aspiring legal professionals:

Faculty of Legal Visionaries: Our core strength lies in our team of highly experienced legal scholars and master educators. They bring not just profound subject matter expertise but also a deep understanding of CLAT's evolving nuances, offering strategic mentorship and personalized guidance that goes beyond the textbook.

Anticipatory & Dynamic Curriculum: Our study materials are rigorously researched, meticulously designed, and continuously updated to reflect the very latest CLAT syllabus and anticipated trends for CLAT 2026. We ensure exhaustive coverage of all five sections, with an unwavering focus on conceptual clarity and real-world application of legal reasoning.

Holistic Passage-Based Mastery: Recognizing that the CLAT is fundamentally an aptitude test rooted in comprehension and critical analysis, Key Campus provides intensive, specialized training in advanced reading techniques, rapid inference, and effective summarization. This builds a foundational competency crucial for excelling across all sections.

Simulated Reality: Advanced Mock Test Series & AI-Driven Analytics: Practice under exam conditions is paramount. Key Campus offers an extensive series of full-length mock tests that precisely replicate the actual CLAT exam environment. Critically, each test is followed by AI-driven, granular performance analysis, pinpointing exact strengths, weaknesses, and areas for strategic improvement, allowing for highly targeted preparation.

Unparalleled Personalized Doubt Resolution: We believe no query should remain unanswered. Our dedicated doubt-clearing sessions, accessible both in-person and through convenient online platforms, ensure every student's question is addressed comprehensively and promptly. This personalized attention fosters deep understanding, builds unshakeable confidence, and eliminates all conceptual ambiguities.

Elite Time Management & Exam Strategies: With the demanding time constraints of the CLAT, optimal time management is a game-changer. Our coaching equips students with cutting-edge strategies to efficiently allocate time across sections, enhance speed without compromising accuracy, and maximize their scores under intense pressure.

Strategic Location: Your Convenience in South Delhi: Our easily accessible center in the heart of South Delhi offers unparalleled convenience for students across the region. This strategic positioning minimizes commuting time and stress, allowing students to dedicate more focused hours to productive study and revision – a critical factor for sustained preparation.

Future-Forward Skill Development: Beyond merely conquering the CLAT, Key Campus is committed to nurturing essential skills vital for a successful legal career. This includes honing critical thinking, advanced logical reasoning, ethical understanding, and comprehensive general awareness, preparing you not just for the exam, but for a thriving future in the legal fraternity.

Vibrant & Collaborative Learning Hub: Our dynamic classroom environment cultivates healthy competition and a powerful sense of community. Students benefit immensely from engaging group discussions, collaborative problem-solving, and a collective drive towards excellence, enriching their overall CLAT preparation experience.

The CLAT is a significant challenge, yet an entirely attainable gateway to your dream legal career. With the precise preparation, strategic insights, and unwavering support provided exclusively by Key Campus, you can confidently pursue your ambition of securing admission to a leading National Law University.

Ready to transform your aspirations into NLU success? The time for CLAT 2026 preparation is now!

Contact Key Campus today for the most definitive CLAT coaching in South Delhi and begin your journey towards legal excellence!

Phone: +91 99539 92593 or +91 87000 29139

Visit us online: www.deducationendeavor.com

Enroll with Key Campus and forge your definitive path to a bright and impactful legal future!

[caprincekathuriaclasses9]

CA Foundation Exams: Tips and Tricks to Ace Your September 2025 Attempt

The CA Foundation exams are the gateway to one of the most prestigious professions in India—Chartered Accountancy. As the September 2025 attempt approaches, thousands of students are preparing to take their first big step toward this goal. If you’re one of them, it’s essential to understand that clearing CA Foundation isn’t just about studying hard—it’s about studying smart. At Prince Kathuria Classes, widely regarded as the Best CA Foundation Institute in Faridabad, we’ve helped hundreds of students not only pass but score exceptionally well in their first attempt. In this blog, we’ll share top tips and tricks to help you crack the CA Foundation September 2025 exams with confidence. Understand the Syllabus Inside Out

The first step is to be crystal clear about the syllabus and structure of the exam. As per the latest ICAI pattern, the CA Foundation course consists of four subjects:

Accounting

Business Laws

Quantitative Aptitude (includes Business Maths, Logical Reasoning & Statistics)

Business Economics

Each paper requires a different strategy. Papers 1 & 2 are subjective, while Papers 3 & 4 are objective with negative marking. At our CA Institute in Faridabad, we make sure students are well-versed with the syllabus, paper pattern, and recent changes introduced by ICAI. Create a Realistic Study Plan

Don’t just study more—study smart. Prepare a daily timetable that allows you to cover all four subjects consistently. Break each subject into smaller topics and assign them weekly goals. Make sure your plan includes:

● First reading: Focus on understanding concepts ● Second reading: Highlight important areas ● Third reading: Quick revision & mock tests

We help every student at Prince Kathuria Classes, the Best CA Coaching Institute in Faridabad, build a personalized study plan based on their strengths and weaknesses. Strengthen Your Conceptual Clarity

Rote learning doesn’t work in CA exams. ICAI focuses on concept-based and application-oriented questions. Whether it’s solving journal entries in Accounting, applying case laws in Business Laws, or analyzing demand curves in Economics—you need strong fundamentals.

Our faculty members use real-life examples, diagrams, and case studies to help students develop conceptual clarity. This is one reason why students across Delhi NCR prefer us as the Best CA Coaching in the region. Practice, Practice, Practice

The key to clearing CA Foundation is solving as many problems and MCQs as possible. Here’s how you can go about it:

● Solve ICAI’s Practice Manuals, RTPs, and MTPs

● Take weekly chapter-wise tests

● Attempt full syllabus mock exams under exam conditions

We conduct multiple test series at our institute and provide detailed feedback for improvement. Mock test performance is a strong indicator of your readiness.

Master the Art of Time Management

Time is your most precious resource during exam days. Here are a few time management tips:

● Practice writing answers within time limits

● Allocate fixed time blocks to each section in mock papers

● Don’t get stuck on one question—move forward and return later

We teach time-saving techniques like quick calculations, answer structuring, and elimination methods for MCQs at our CA Foundation Institute in Faridabad. Use Short Notes for Revision

Instead of going through full textbooks every time you revise, create short notes, flowcharts, and summary tables. These are especially helpful in the final 10–15 days before the exam.

At Prince Kathuria Classes, we provide handwritten revision notes, formula sheets, and topic-wise flashcards to make revision easier and faster. Focus on MCQ Strategy

For Paper 3 and Paper 4, which are objective in nature, your MCQ performance is critical. Remember:

● Every incorrect answer leads to negative marking

● Read all four options carefully before selecting

● Eliminate clearly wrong choices to improve accuracy

Our expert faculty conducts MCQ mastery workshops to help students strengthen their approach and score maximum in objective papers. Stay Positive and Stay Healthy

Last but not least, don’t ignore your health and mental well-being. Exam pressure can be overwhelming, but staying calm and composed gives you a massive advantage.

Tips:

● Sleep at least 6–7 hours ● Avoid junk food before exams ● Take short breaks between long study hours ● Talk to mentors or peers if you feel anxious

At Prince Kathuria Classes, we offer not just academic support but also motivational and wellness sessions during exam season to ensure our students stay focused and stress-free.

Final Thoughts

Success in the CA Foundation September 2025 exams is within your reach—provided you follow the right strategy, stay consistent, and seek proper guidance.

If you’re serious about clearing the exam on your first attempt, join Prince Kathuria Classes, the Best CA Foundation Institute in Faridabad. With expert faculty, ICAI-based test series, detailed notes, and personalized mentorship, we ensure every student is prepared to succeed.

[cutepg]

CSIR NET June 2025: Dates, Application & Preparation Roadmap

The CSIR NET June 2025 cycle is here, and with the CSIR NET 2025 June exam date officially set for July 26, 27, and 28, 2025, there’s never been a better time to kick your preparation into high gear. Whether you’re aiming for the Junior Research Fellowship (JRF) or an Assistant Professorship, this prestigious exam can open doors to a fulfilling career in scientific research and higher education. In this comprehensive blog, we’ll walk you through everything you need to know about the CSIR NET exam June 2025—from key dates and eligibility criteria to application steps, exam pattern, and winning preparation strategies.

Mark These Key Dates

CSIR NET June Application Form 2025 Start Date: 3 June 2025

CSIR NET June Application Form Last Date: 23 June 2025

CSIR NET 2025 June Exam Date: 26–28 July 2025

Clear your schedule and set calendar reminders for these critical milestones. Missing the CSIR NET June 2025 exam date or application window can derail your plans, so plan well in advance.

Who Should Apply?

The CSIR NET exam June 2025 is designed for candidates with a strong foundation in five major science streams:

Chemical Sciences

Life Sciences

Mathematical Sciences

Physical Sciences

Earth, Atmospheric, Ocean & Planetary Sciences

If you hold (or are about to complete) a Master’s degree in any of these disciplines with at least 55% aggregate marks (50% for reserved categories), and you meet the age requirements (≤28 years for JRF, no age limit for Assistant Professor), you’re eligible to take this test.

Step-by-Step Application Process

Filling out the CSIR NET June Application Form 2025 is a fully online process on the NTA portal. Here’s how to ensure a smooth submission:

Visit the official NTA CSIR NET website at csirnet.nta.nic.in.

Register with a valid email and mobile number—an OTP will verify your contact details.

Complete the application form by entering personal details (name, date of birth, category) and academic information (degree, university, marks).

Select your subject carefully; once submitted, you cannot change your exam discipline.

Upload scanned documents—passport-size photo, signature, category certificate (if applicable)—as per the prescribed format and file size.

Pay the application fee online using UPI, credit/debit card, net banking, or e-wallet.

Download and print the confirmation page for your records and as proof of submission.

Pro Tip: Double-check every field before final submission—any incorrect or incomplete application will be outright rejected.

Understanding the Exam Pattern

Knowing the CSIR NET 2025 June exam date is crucial, but understanding the exam pattern will determine how effectively you prepare:

Mode: Computer-based Test (CBT)

Duration: 3 hours

Papers:

Paper I (General Aptitude): 50 questions, 100 marks

Paper II (Subject-Specific): 75 questions, 150 marks

Paper III (Subject-Specific): 75 questions, 150 marks

Marking Scheme: +2 for each correct answer; –0.5 for each wrong answer

Prepare a detailed study plan that mirrors this structure. Allocate more time to subject-specific papers, as they carry higher weight.

Crafting a Winning Preparation Strategy

Draft a Realistic Timetable: Break down your syllabus into weekly and monthly goals. Include revision and mock-test slots.

Prioritize Conceptual Clarity: Rote memorization has limited value in the CSIR NET. Strive to deeply understand fundamental principles to tackle application-based questions.

Use Standard Reference Materials: Stick to NTA-recommended textbooks and peer-reviewed journals to stay current with recent scientific developments.

Solve Previous Year Papers: Familiarize yourself with trends, question formats, and difficulty levels seen in earlier csir net june 2025 exam date cycles.

Take Regular Mock Tests: Simulate exam conditions, strictly adhering to time limits. After each test, analyze errors and revisit weak topics immediately.

Form Study Groups: Online forums or local peer groups can be invaluable for doubt-clearing and sharing resources.

Stay Healthy: Don’t underestimate the power of good sleep, balanced nutrition, and short breaks to maintain peak mental performance.

Day-Before and Exam-Day Tips

Verify Center Details: Know your exam center location and reporting time—plan to arrive at least 60 minutes early.

Carry Essentials Only: Admit card, valid photo ID, one passport-size photograph, and a transparent ballpoint pen. Electronic gadgets are prohibited.

Stay Calm and Confident: A well-rested mind enhances recall. Review high-yield notes but avoid last-minute cramming.

 After the Exam: What’s Next?

Once you’ve completed your papers on July 28, 2025, focus on:

Analyzing Your Performance: Reflect on which sections felt strongest or weakest.

Planning Further Steps: If you clear the NET, you can apply for JRF or Assistant Professor Positions and prepare for interviews or fellowship placements.

Continuing Skill Development: Whether you qualify or not, consider writing research papers, attending workshops, or enrolling in short-term courses to boost your profile.

The CSIR NET June 2025 examination is a pivotal moment for anyone pursuing a research or teaching career in India’s science ecosystem. With the CSIR NET 2025 June exam date set for July 26–28, 2025, and the application window open from 3 June to 23 June 2025, now is the time to finalize your documents, refine your study plan, and commit to a disciplined preparation schedule. Follow the steps outlined above, stay updated via csirnet.nta.nic.in, and approach the exam with confidence. Your journey toward becoming a Junior Research Fellow or Assistant Professor starts here—best of luck!