#/ alastor intruded event.

[voxxisms]

@radiiosugars stepped up to alastor !! guest muse event ( currently accepting! ) Alexander yanks Vox away from the new alternate, stepping between them. " And what do you think you're doing, hm? Touching what's mine? "

     OH - HO!  It looked as though Vox had friends,  now that something was happening.  He was not all too unfamiliar with the concept of a multiverse colliding,  something Vox,  in their older times,  used to ramble on about when he did take a few moments to tune in to his silly little thoughts  &&  info - dumps.  Vox was pulled away,  with this  ...  other version of himself stepping between them.  Alastor kept his gaze squarely settled on Vox's expression,  seeing the confusion,  putting together puzzle pieces.  It appeared to be surprising to him,  at least,  but there was something else here,  too.

        ❝  Why,  Vox!  You never told me you had made a friend in my absence!  And for it to be,  in essence,  myself,  you are quite the perverted mind,  aren't you?  I sure hope he hasn't subjected you to the things he has me,  what with his pathetic little obsession.  ❞

You will have things to answer for,  Vox.  To explain.

     Alastor settled his hands atop his staff,  gaze traveling over this alternate's form.  A softer set of features,  certainly,  pretty,  perhaps,  was a good word for it.  

        ❝  You call him yours,  which is very interesting,  considering he has been mine quite a bit longer.  Or,  at least,  that's what he wishes.  You are more than welcome to make off with him,  if you so choose,  although why you would want to,  I am so very curious!  He is the noisiest,  most obnoxious man I've had the displeasure of meeting!  ❞

Laughter echoing out of his staff,  offered alongside his own amusement.  Vox looked deeply uncomfortable,  though he remained beside the other demon in the room.  How annoying.

[schrodinger-swriter]

I am going to give you freedom and allow you to pick three prompts and three letters (or just one or the other) for one of your favorite characters that you haven’t done because that sounds fun

Prompts 8 9 and 13 with Sir Pentious

I hope you don't mind me just doing the tropes post! I think Sir Pentious had most of the letters completed for him in the alphabet... or maybe I'm confusing him with Lucifer...

If anyone is interested in the tropes list as well as the fluff alphabet, you can find both of them linked at the bottom of both Helluva Hotel masterlists!

Mutual Pining:

I hadn't realized that I'd done this as it's own post a while ago, so here is the link!

Drunken Confession:

Pentious is the one to confess to you. He cannot hold his alcohol well, becoming drunk after a few drinks... and boy does he get emotional.. Any shame he might feel when he's sober is completely out of the picture, leaving him to bluntly gush about you to your face and to anyone who will listen. Many get annoyed with him fairly fast, leaving him to mumble into the bar's counter... completely unaware that you're within ear shot. Even if he was aware, he doesn't care all that much. Liquid courage, as they call it. He wouldn't try much of anything other than simply babbling his thoughts about you out loud, before promptly puking on the floor and maybe crying after.

Bathing Together:

He nearly refuses to take a bath with you because he doesn't want you to feel like he's intruding in on your privacy... even if you invited him to join you. He does eventually warm up to the idea, though. He has to bunch his tail up so you can both fit in the tub. He... tries to insist that you don't need to help him, but he won't turn down helping you. Blindly, of course, because his hood is fanned over his face as an effort to be.. "decent" when you turn to face him in the bath. Very shy about it buy very polite, he's totally beet red the entire event..

[that-ari-blogger]

A Discussion Of LavenderTowne and Hazbin Hotel

So, a little while ago, a YouTube channel called LavenderTowne ventured into the Hazbin Hotel fan space to propose some criticisms and fan redesigns of the characters.

I had thoughts on the original video, but those are irrelevant because its reception was… tumultuous, and in my opinion disproportionate. The video has since been taken down, and LavenderTowne uploaded a follow up to it (link). In which she stated that her experience with the Hazbin Hotel fandom wasn’t the most pleasant, something I would like to address.

So, this post will be an academic discussion of the designs from the second video. Because I think her criticisms were interesting and because I want to show that it is possible to disagree with someone without being unpleasent.

Also, I want to give LavenderTowne a more welcoming experience with the fandom, and try to make up for some other members of the community.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (Hazbin Hotel)

I'm going to start with something that needs to be said. You can disagree with the rest of my post, but this is non negotiable:

It is never, under any circumstances, acceptable to harass someone for their opinions, especially about art. I don't care if you take issue with conclusions or perceived motivations, actions like I observed are not ok, and are not welcome in this fandom.

I hope I made that clear.

Anyway, I am going to be addressing the second video, because LavenderTowne took the first down, and I'm not about to intrude where I'm not wanted.

LavenderTowne mentioned the overarching stylistic choices, and I think that is a good place to start with this post, because they are good source of difference. Several of LavenderTowne’s criticisms are leveled at the Hazbin Hotel visual style itself, discussing what specific elements didn’t work for her and how she would personally draw things differently.

That is what I want to discuss here. Rather than the specifics of artistic technique, I am going to talk about the character design decisions brought about by the difference in style. This isn’t a question of skill, but an examination of the ideas presented.

Both LavenderTowne’s style and that of the Hazbin Hotel team range on the scale of realism, as is the nature of art, and that has caused a few of the design decisions that they have made. But it has also had a weird effect on the implied plot that is worth discussing.

Hazbin Hotel is more cartoony, for example, which means its logic is a bit more fluid. Vaggie's eye scar, for example, is shown over her hair, which isn’t how scars work in the real world.

This is a way of getting the tone across. Sir Pentious, at one point in the series, gets caught in the blast of an explosion and sent flying across the city. The design style lets you know that this is being played for a laugh and that he will probably be fine. If LavenderTowne had drawn Sir Pentious in her style, I guarantee that version of him would not survive the event, because hers is grittier (that’s the wrong word, but you get the point).

I do, however, really like the colour palette shift in LavenderTowne’s designs. Don’t get me wrong, I like the limited palette of the actual show, and I think it suits the setting more than the pastel aesthetic of LavenderTowne’s style.

But, those pastel colours are gorgeous and they are a really neat way of solving one of the problems that LavenderTowne identified and I agree with, that being how difficult character differentiation is when everyone has the same colouration as each other and their background.

Now, neither of the two options are implicitly better, there is just a different design sensibility going on.

As for the designs themselves, I actually prefer LavenderTowne’s Alastor over the original. I would like to see how it interacts with Alastor animation and transformation, but I think the design overall works better for the character. I like the horns being more pronounced, and I like that neat hairstyle. I think it's much more suited to an overly refined character who revolves around appearances.

“Just because you see a smile, don’t think you know what’s going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool, my dear! It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way, you’re the one in control.”

I think that Alastors original hair style is more about looking cool than looking refined. The shorter style, combined with the more prominent antlers, gives that air of someone actively concealing their more wild undercurrents.

That being said, I'm not as sold on Alastor's expression in LavenderTowne's design. This is a stylistic choice, but I don't think that the Cheshire Cat smile translates over to the alternate design as smoothly as his concept. In the original, that smile was the thing that denoted him as malicious, but LavenderTowne's design seems more huggable, at least to me.

LavenderTowne did raise an interesting point about the voodoo symbolism, a point that others have raised, and I think is worth noting. Incorporating that aesthetic as synonymous with dark magic in a setting based heavily off Christianity is funky, thematically. It's a use of stereotypes as shorthand, which carries the baggage of those stereotypes, intentionally or not. However, I am about as far from qualified to talk about this in detail as possible. I recommend that you listen to the opinions of people who know more about this than me, and who's case this is to make.

Husk’s design is another that I like, but this one I have slightly mixed feelings about. The body type change addresses another of LavenderTowne's criticisms of the series, again in relation to character differentiation. That is a strength of the video, LavenderTowne gives criticisms, and explains what she means and how she would go about doing it.

Interestingly, that body type issue is something I disagree with. I think the way that LavenderTowne has handled the issue she identified is fascinating, and one of the best parts of her process. But this is simply an issue I don’t see as a problem.

The criticism is that the silhouettes of the characters are exceedingly similar, meaning that identifying them is difficult, as well as limiting in terms of variety of proportions. I could point out Sir Pentious or Husk here, but that is arguing in bad faith because Husk is very clearly the exception to the rule, and Pentious actually conforms to her observation. Without his hood out, Pentious’ silhouette difference is in his tail, which is rarely onscreen.

The reason I am ok with this, is that Hazbin Hotel has a thing for transforming character designs. Charlie, Valentino, Emily and Serah, Lucifer, even Adam, Vaggie, and Lute, as well as a ton of others. All of these character designs shift as the story progresses, revealing aspects of them that they have kept secret. I like having the baseline similarities if everyone gets a moment where they show off how different they are from that baseline. I think that is a cool story beat that, for me at least, outweighs the problem of similarity. I’m sure LavenderTowne would disagree with me here, and that is more than fine.

Back to the point, Husk is a character who is surprisingly acrobatic and martially competent, and the slight shift in the alternative design switches him into more of a bar brawl type character. This feels like the guy who would just deck you and tell you to cool off, rather than throw something at you. He looks like the type of bartender he is, cool and calm, and ready to offer advice when needed.

The removal of the wings is an interesting choice. On the one hand, it clears up his design and makes him look more down to earth. On the other hand, it leads into my main bugbear with this design. I don't think this version of Husk looks like an overlord.

This is subjective, and I am struggling to quite explain it. But the wings, as well as his voice, give a sense of gravitas to Husk. Without that, Husk looks relatively unremarkable.

The outfit plays into this. While I prefer it and its subtlety, there is little that marks this version of Husk out as higher ranking.

Again, this isn't a case of the original designs being objectively better. This is a different design that communicates different things. LavenderTowne’s Husk is a humble bartender rather than an overlord playing pretend. I simply like the story that the original offers more.

Vaggie’s new design is both my favourite design of the four, and the one that is the furthest from the story of the show.

I love the quieter eye scar, I love the silhouette, and I think moving the ribbons to her back is a genius bit of visual storytelling.

The outfit is cool (I especially like those boots), but there's an asterisk to that, because I don't think it entirely suits Vaggie as she is presented in the show.

At the risk of oversimplifying, Vaggie is a fairly uncomplicated character. Not because she's written to be shallow, but because the show doesn't have time to explore her personality.

So, you get her past, which is fascinating, and it leaves some interesting things on the table.

For example, Vaggie has zero self preservation instinct and will burn herself to the ground for Charlie. This isn't complex, but it's remarkable how much the writers (and animators if you’re looking for that kind of thing) get out of this one detail.

Most notably, her character grows into realising that love means living for someone rather than dying to keep them safe. This culminates in the defeat of Lute, the embodiment of her past, who doesn't think to move out of the way of a collapsing building.

Similarly, Vaggie was an angel and wants to hide that aspect of herself. This makes her multifaceted in backstory, but the reveal doesn't have time to dwell on her characterisation, so it just feeds into what I said before.

I think that with another season of time to develop, Vaggie’s characterisation will become as complex as her backstory. But that doesn’t come quickly.

The point I am making is that I don't think this version of Vaggie would wear armour until the end. She doesn't think she can get killed, so why would she need to protect herself?

Which means that LavenderTowne's design would work for the last episode of the show, if it had wings, which is sacrificing the single best piece of foreshadowing I have seen in a long time. Seriously, I cannot stop gushing about those ribbons.

What we have, then, is a version of Vaggie with a slightly different story and personality. To me, LavenderTowne's Vaggie looks like a character who craves safety. She seeks Charlie because she offers emotional stability and kindness, the one person in hell who Vaggie doesn't think is against her. But she would wear the armour and outfit because of the injury. She realises she can be wounded and grabs the heaviest set she can find, the twin coloured trousers come from that desperation, and add to the imbalanced aspect of her design.

This version of Vaggie is defensive rather than offensive, and though it renders Out For Love obsolete, I find it more interesting than the original.

Charlie's design, however, I'm not such a big fan of. I'm sorry LavenderTowne, I really am. But this design really doesn't sit right with me.

Hazbin Hotel has a circus theme going on. The main foyer has a circus tent affectation, for example, and Charlie gives off the aesthetic of the ringmaster.

Charlie is very overtly the antithesis of a Disney princess, and that comes across in her design. Instead of wearing a floaty dress, she wears a suit and suspenders.

Yes, the hooves and horns being more prominent is a cool alteration that I appreciate, but the alternate outfit really doesn't feel like Charlie.

I think the difference is in the framing. To me, LavenderTowne's Charlie comes across as naive and optimistic, where the original design is more relentlessly hopeful, and that second one matches how she is in the series.

Charlie in Hazbin Hotel showcases true hope. Not optimism, hope. The type of emotion that keeps getting knocked down, but picks itself off the floor ever single time, and gets ready to try again. Charlie has no proof of her philosophy, no basis. She's not trying to recreate phenomena, she doesn't even know she can succeed. That's why she needs the hope.

I don't think that LavenderTowne's design has that vibe. Instead, this Charlie seems younger, which contributes to the naivety. It feels like it leans into her regular design, so the more fearsome transformation comes as a shock, mostly.

On the other hand, the three horn tiara element is genuinely really cool. It gives that air of reality, and hints at the transformation without giving it away. They round out the design and make the “this is a demon princess” clear.

Interactions between this Charlie and Adam, Lute, or Sarah would be interesting, as this version seems designed to foil off them, rather than the other way around. Especially Emily, this design seems genetically engineered to mirror her and make her question her ideals just through existing in the same place.

In short, this Charlie seems more gentle than the original, which might help in some aspects, but I prefer the original.

One again, this is my opinion, and not objective by any stretch of the imagination. If you disagree with me, good, that's the bread and butter of how analysis and discussion exists. But I hope I have shown that disagreement is possible without aggression.

Which brings me to my conclusion, and I have something here that I hope you will like.

LavenderTowne's designs feel like they are made for the same story, but paced differently. They feel like a different style of musical. They feel like they were made for a version of Hazbin Hotel that had more episodes and has time for subtlety, something that the original show unfortunately didn't have.

The story feels the same, but the minour changes make it seem more drawn out. The tone is different, and that effects the entirety of the rest of the story.

In other words, she is designing an AU, something she makes explicitly clear at least five times in her video.

LavenderTowne mentioned in her video that she might do a follow up with a few more characters. I would be intrigued to see this, because I want to know what Angel Dust would look like in this version of the story, as well as the actual angels and even the Vees.

I also am fascinated by how the art style affects the tone of the story. And with LavenderTowne's permission, I might have a crack at writing some of the key scenes from the show to fit this aesthetic and tone. I think that would be an interesting thought experiment.

Final Thoughts

LavenderTowne’s designs were dope as all hell, and the points she raised were worth discussing.

I love the series, but I understand that it's not everyone’s cup of tea. Content warnings should get that across, but also some people just won't like elements of it for any number of reasons, and that is ok.

I think @ohnoitstbskyen put it best in his discussion of the finale of the series. (Link). In his closing remarks, he spoke at length about people who will discover the show and the effect that it will have on them. That sentiment, boiled down, became the title of that video, and concisely says what I have taken just under 3000 words to talk around.

“This show will save someone’s life, but it isn’t for everyone.”

But let me be clear about why I wrote this.

I saw some of the shit that people wrote about LavenderTowne's original video, and though a lot of it was positive, a fair chunk was not, and I want to put my foot down. Disagreement about art is healthy, but if you think that involves harassment at all, then tell Husk he still owes me a drink.

On a lighter note, this is my first post about Hazbin Hotel, so for those who are reading my stuff for the first time, hello. I am Ari, I do media analysis, and I plan on doing a series on Hazbin Hotel, going through each song with lyrical and musical analysis once I finish my current one on Wicked. So, if that interests you, maybe stick around.

Next

[radioiaci]

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝕽𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝕭𝖆𝖑𝖑 - Open Starter

[ Preface: Alastor is in attendance as Rosie's ( @cannibalxroses ) spouse in this universe. They have been both privately and publicly announced as a married pair. This thread is open for interaction with any others who are attending the ball and are okay with this setup! ] [ Alastor's Masquerade Outfit ]

He is hovering.

Though he's been in attendance at Rosie's side for the majority of the night, he has allowed her to drift and mingle as needed. But he is close by, only opting to speak in friendly candor when approached, but otherwise lingering like a stone monolith, both keeping an eye on the door for any unwanted intruders and on Rosie for any indications that he is needed at her side. But she is an expert in the art of the affair; he will not pretend that he is necessary to remain so rooted at her side.

Unless asked, of course.

In his hand, he nurses a drink, though it's not quite clear whether it's one of the red wine variety or if it is actually some of the offered blood beverage. He will keep all guessing as to which. Alastor will not be giving away the secret. (He enjoys just the touch of mystery, given that it is quite obvious as to who he is beneath the motif of his mask.)

But he is quite pleased that, thus far, the evening's festivities seem to be going off without a hitch. Pleased on Rosie's behalf, really.

As he orbits the room, he will continue to observe, looking for all of the world like a circling vulture to prey upon the corpse of any creature or thing that could threaten to subvert all of Rosie's work and dedication to the event.

He will not allow any of that, so long as he is watching.

And he will certainly enjoy the music and the fare in the meantime.

[helluvahotelfan]

Thank you for contacting VoxTek, how may I help you?

Hello! My name is Jenn, and I currently work for VoxTek in their research and development department.

How you might ask? Well, when I first arrived I had a pleasant conversation with Vox and he was kind enough to offer me a job at his company in exchange for my soul - which is a small price to pay if you ask me. Others tried to convince me I had done something wrong, but considering all that’s happened, that has proven not to be the case.

Eventually, I developed some wolf features. I can’t imagine how else Hell will change me, but only time will tell.

Jenn’s story so far:

Jenn sells her soul to Vox

Jenn’s employment contract

Jenn drunk texts her boss

Vox calls Jenn to his office

Jenn speaks with Zestial pt 1, pt 2

Jenn gets her soul back

Jenn now has wolf features

Zoe lets Vox know that Jenn’s sick

Jenn and Zoe get attacked

Jenn lets Vox know about the incident at the apartment

Vox’s Vengeance aka the creation of Jeffie

Jenn meets Jeffie

Jenn and Vox have breakfast

Jenn’s new contract

Jenn has tea with Zestial

Events while Vox was in the mainframe:

Jenn talks with Zoe about what happened

Jenn sends Zestial a letter

Jenn discovers her powers

Jenn acquires a soul

Jenn gets help from Zestial

Another sleepless night

A gift arrives

Jenn visits Zestial

Jenn receives a visitor

Vox is out of the mainframe:

Jenn finds out about the 666 News broadcast

Vox visits Jenn

Jenn gets a new pet

Jenn speaks with Alastor

Jenn speaks with Angel

Intruder in the apartment

Zoe visits Jenn

Vox finds out about Jenn's acquiring a soul

A visit with a witch

Second soul acquired

Jenn shows Vox what she and the R&D team came up with

Jenn asks Alastor for help and get's advice on magic

Other Events:

Saving Nessie

Lutual Statements:

1, 2

Hi!

My name is actually Jenn. When I first interacted with Vox, I didn’t think the whole OC thing would blow up the way it did, so *shrugs*. I had originally intended for this blog to be keeping HH/HB content I liked in one spot, but then I got really into the roleplays.

Anyway, she/her, 34, working mom and wife. I can get a bit busy, and on Wednesday nights it’s my dedicated game night with the hubs and our friend, so my replies aren’t as frequent as other nights.

[hellishradio]

🖋️ Rave club , bro would die tbh

# ALASTOR AT A . . RAVE?

no pairing — just a silly oneshot of just alastor being annoyed at a rave — features the appearance of a certain cursed cat — not proofread — 1.3k words — may appear ooc

✶ UNDER THE CUT !

sorry this took so long, anon! i was initially gonna write around 500 words but i got carried away and ended up adding on and on .. i did try to not go overboard though! i also wrote him in an actual rave than a rave club because i thought it'd be more fun hehe

please read it lightly, i did not proof read and kind of wrote everything quickly in one sitting, may appear a bit rushed :')

notice for those who don't know this account: this is not a writing account but an askblog, this oneshot is something i wrote for an event!

Sounds of loud bustling echoed within the bright neon premises that displayed in front. Hues of bloody red and witching purples shining diagonally in the velvet skies of Hell. Dangling charms could be heard when the performer ( a certain pink succubus ) danced around the stage as the microphone magnified the jewel's volume. She swayed in a circular rhythm, and the crowd sang her name louder with every syllable in her song.

Though everything was muffled for the certain radio demon in the area. Which was rather fortunate, any more of this sensual-smooth-pop nonsense would've given him a headache for eternity. The rave was large, open, and most conspicuously and most tragically– at the same time– filled with sinners that had nothing better to do than to get blackout drunk at a party. Also known as: the simplest forms of stupidity, one of many characteristics that Alastor hated the most.

Though his duties as a co-hotelier gave him no choice but to stay, Charlie has personally requested– No– Begged for him to assist and protect the staff and residents at the neon-lit massacre. Though now it felt more like babysitting than assisting. How long has he been internally cursing this hellscape? Long enough to the point where everyone else had ran some other way, even Husk who had been twitching his eyes beside the man had left.

The sunset-colored radiance rearranged itself into a vibrating azure spotlight, and all at once the stage fire flickered on command. Even the farmost backside of the party was huddled with feral sinners, triggering even more heavy exhales out of the demon’s mouth. Alastor stood amidst it all, his features shrouded in dim glows, emotionally detached from the lively atmosphere the rave provided. Melodies intruding his bones rather than a source of enjoyment, with air getting thicker with the scent of sweat and alcohol, mingling with the plastic tang of artificial smoke. Airs of Hell were not pleasant as it was, but this almost felt assaulting. A part of him wanted to wipe the horde clean, but he reasoned that that would bring the hotel a bad name if word ever got out.

Couldn't he just leave as well? Though then he'd have to endure the princess’ long talk about how she's sorry for taking him to a place where he didn't want to go. A long sigh of breath left his lips as he straightened his bowtie, his eyes blinking in slow motion. First things first, find the location of everyone, then maybe he can just watch from afar. Ah, right, Charlie had said something about going to the frontal row of the sector with her sweetheart. Well that's one chore taken off his list. How ironic it was, how he went from being a serial killer who took lives to someone who’s supposedly “protecting” others.

A loud ring of the speakers clang against his ears, his ears instinctively twitching in response. His ultimate reaction being that he should simply get this over with as soon as possible. Now to find the roset spider, perhaps it'll be easier to find if he went somewhere up higher.

With an intention, Alastor’s physique morphed into the shadows, his vision blurring in a familiar motion. He traveled from silhouette to silhouette until he found himself on top of the metal bars of the podium where no one could spot him. He had the full view of the rave, from the portion of the horde passing out to the mindless drunkards at the bar. Neon streaks painted unique patterns across the skies, casting eerie shadows which danced in sync with the music which only deepened his sense of irritation.

He eyed the bar which had been stationed on the east coast of the party until he spotted the known pornstar and the hotel's overworked bartender. Ah, was that the snake beside them as well? Great! Now to find Niffty.

His vision outlined the entire premise, but to no sighting of the rouge-haired cyclops. Though it already would have been impossible to notice her petite form amongst all these sinners. Alastor's eyes spasmed at just the thought of going down there again. But alas, it couldn't be helped. He distorted back into shadow until he returned to the first-POV scene of the gathering.

Alastor turned his heels to take a step until an imp with white on their left eye shoved against him, Alastor's eyebrows frowning in pure annoyance. He didn't have the time nor the space in his psyche to deal with any no-lifes, his temper was thinning. His glare illuminated a shade of threatening red.

The imp squared up in an attitude, “ Hey! What you lookin’ down at, red bastard-” Alastor was only a second away from ending the poor individual’s life until a different imp with white freckles swiftly covered the blunt man's mouth.

“ Moxxie! This freak clearly bumped into me- ”

“ Sir! That- That's the radio demon! ” The smaller imp whispered against the ear of another.

“ The who? Doesn't matter, I'm gonna kill this old bitch- ”

The white freckled hellborn shoved the other aside before he could finish his sentence.

“ Ahaha.. Sorry. Erm.. Radio Demon. Sir. He’s just- haven't had his medication yet! ” He grasped his hands together in apology, his expression hinting a face of fear and desperacy. Before Alastor could say a word of warning, his sight landed on a little red haired creature running below the masses.

“ Oh don't worry my gentlemen! Now if you'll excuse me, I am quite occupied, haha. ” Alastor then speed walked in the direction the figure followed, leaving the two imps who were now yelling at each other over the identity of the cannibalistic overlord.

At the end of his step, he found a certain red furred.. cat? Huh, why is it wearing a monocle? Alastor narrowed his eyes, it seems that mistakes become more common for him in such an environment. Oh doesn't matter, he still needed to find the mini cyclops. Wait- what time is it? The flashing lights and extreme volumes of music were interfering with his sense of time and space. What is this, some sort of horrid after-effect of being part deer? He hadn’t even noticed how his audio went numb from an overload of pounding electric basses. How idiotic.

“...—tor! — Alastor! Where are you— ” A familiar voice called his name from behind, he snapped his neck behind to be faced with the blonde-belle. “ There you are, we were all looking for you! ” Charlie exclaimed with a smile, the other members of the staff following up behind her.

Angel Dust added on, “ Smiles, where were ya? We thought ya’d be off in some dark corner being all creep n’ shit! You were in the middle the whole time? Didn't see you as the type to enjoy this typa thing! ”

Alastor’s smile twitched in displeasure, though his usual expression remained unfaded, “ Sorry my folks, perhaps I’ve lost myself in the blinding lights, haha! Will we be leaving now, dears? ”

“ Leave? We just got here not even an hour ago, toots! Princess here earned us a VIP spot right in front of the stage with her blue-blood title, and she didn't want ya to wonder all by yerself! ” The pink arachnida swayed his hips with a smug grin, all arms handled on his waist.

“ Wait-! You don't have to stay if you're uncomfortable, Al! Don't force yourself. ” Gentle words of affirmation from Charlie registered into Alastor's ears like sounds of claws gnawing on a chalkboard. Was she pitying him? Now he quite had no choice but to stay at this place worse than the lowest levels of Hell, at least if he didn't want the others to condolence his state of disturbance and annoyance.

“ Haha! It's nothing I can't handle, sweetheart! Now shall we get going? ” The overlord gritted a smile, emitting an ominous laid-back word. When in reality, Alastor had never cussed something so much in his life and afterlife.

hopefully that was readable in the slightest haha, i've never wrote something like this before! i haven't also written something more than 300 words in a few months so i've rusted 😔

🖊 — writing reqsㅤ|ㅤcheck out the event!ㅤ|ㅤ100f event

[arcanepactguile]

𝐂𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄

@arcanepactguile ᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ "ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴏᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀʏ ɪɴ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ." @angie-long-legs

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐒

The voice from the doorway snapped Angel out of his pity party, springing upright to meet the eye of the intruder who had caught him at such a vulnerable moment. It wasn't often that he allowed himself the luxury of a full-on sobbing breakdown, but the events of the night had unfolded as such that there was no other possible outcome. All other strategies had been exhausted: drugs, booze, casual sex, rinse and repeat. And still, it wasn't enough to bury it. No amount of dirt and filth would keep it from crawling into his consciousness - no matter how Angel tried to abandon the pain, it tracked him down with a vengeance. It devoured him.

And so, he had sought comfort of the carnal kind, playing out a kinky fantasy of his with his newly-adopted partner, the Radio Demon himself. And it had worked: it had helped him forget, given him that rush he needed, that catharsis... things were better.

And then they weren't.

The moment their play was over, Angel had retired to his bedroom. After all, what more could Alastor offer him? He'd been willing to indulge the spider in his erotic roleplay. They had both had their fun, and now it was over. Before the Overlord had a chance to ask Angel exactly why he wasn't sticking around for pillow-talk, he had been out of the door without a word. Collapsing in a heap on his bed, the porn star had finally felt able to cry, chest heaving with the ragged gulps and gasps that came tearing out as he succumbed to the ache of everything.

But, apparently, Alastor was not so easily deterred.

The stag himself was standing in Angel's doorway, smile intact, his expression as unreadable as it ever was.

"'M not cryin'," Angel mumbled uselessly, more than aware that there was not a chance in hell of the stag actually believing him. He was unsure exactly how long he had been curled up on the bed, bawling his eyes out, but it was long enough that he could feel his face had become swollen and streaked with tears. "'M just... tired, okay? Some of us down here actually sleep, ya know."

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐄

The voice from the doorway snapped Angel out of his pity party, springing upright to meet the eye of the intruder who had caught him at such a vulnerable moment. It wasn't often that he allowed himself the luxury of a full-on sobbing breakdown, but the events of the night had unfolded as such that there was no other possible outcome. All other strategies had been exhausted: drugs, booze, casual sex, rinse and repeat. And still, it wasn't enough to bury it. No amount of dirt and filth would keep it from crawling into his consciousness - no matter how Angel tried to abandon the pain, it tracked him down with a vengeance. It devoured him.

And so, he had sought comfort of the carnal kind, playing out a kinky fantasy of his with his newly-adopted partner, the Radio Demon himself. And it had worked: it had helped him forget, given him that rush he needed, that catharsis... things were better.

And then they weren't.

The moment their play was over, Angel had retired to his bedroom. After all, what more could Alastor offer him? He'd been willing to indulge the spider in his erotic roleplay. They had both had their fun, and now it was over. Before the Overlord had a chance to ask Angel exactly why he wasn't sticking around for pillow-talk, he had been out of the door without a word. Collapsing in a heap on his bed, the porn star had finally felt able to cry, chest heaving with the ragged gulps and gasps that came tearing out as he succumbed to the ache of everything.

But, apparently, Alastor was not so easily deterred.

The stag himself was standing in Angel's doorway, smile intact, his expression as unreadable as it ever was.

"'M not cryin'," Angel mumbled uselessly, more than aware that there was not a chance in hell of the stag actually believing him. He was unsure exactly how long he had been curled up on the bed, bawling his eyes out, but it was long enough that he could feel his face had become swollen and streaked with tears. "'M just... tired, okay? Some of us down here actually sleep, ya know."

The realisation had dawned on Alastor, once Angel had brusquely skipped the final stage of their role playing: the all-important delving into each other's psychological and emotional well-being, the aftercare. After the theatrical, exhaustive exploration of their physical bodies, the less tangible sounding out of their mental comforts had swiftly been eliminated, Angel gathering his things and leaving his playmate. Discarded, like a used toy. The Radio Demon felt deeply spurned by this course of action — more like inaction, however inexperienced the Overlord rarely admitted he understood there was more to aftercare than Angel the star professed to practise.

Left alone, Alastor had been trying to understand what had gone wrong. Mulling it over in dead silence, the absence of his Mirror Shadow, the allegations Angel's rushed departure invited disconcerted explanations swarming on the buck's fraught head.

Painstakingly cleaning up the evidence of their impassioned affair, uncertainty clouding his eyes, Alastor's movements were deliberated and sluggish. Partial to retire himself, the gear Angel left added to the preparation for a prolonged time-out; the myriad of reasonings the tired buck had fabricated intensified the itch to sift through his sub's excuses for the vanishing act.

Supposing the spider had been too uncomfortable to utilise their safeword, or found fault with his Dom’s role… should Angel have at least had the decency to complain? Disparage his willing lover? Invent new curses and slurs to criticise the deer demon? Throw the butcher's apron and equipment into the fireplace in a fit of regret?

None of them justified the spider demon's unusual actions. Pulling a lounge robe shut after slipping it on, intentionally omitting the belt and any kind of shoes, confident nobody else had a good reason to roam the halls at this time of night, when the door softly clicked shut behind him it had roughly been just over a half hour when the Overlord chose to trace Angel's steps. Naked under the robe, clovenhooves quiet on the carpet, the route to the porn star's quarters went without a hitch.

The walls in the old Hotel weren't so thick to prevent ALL the cacophony of mortifying and curious sounds on other days and nights, coming from a number of rooms, as few as they were… The new Hotel's renovation lent better, soundproofed walls; not exactly perfect, venturing out into the hallway, the Radio Demon had the keenest sense to catch the sounds of his conflicted lover’s muffled cries through the door.

The porn star's room was the first port of call, regardless of whatever Angel had resolved to do at such a mystifying time, it felt like the likeliest place to check first.

Standing motionless within Angel's open doorway, it appeared a simpler puzzle to solve than guessed.

The Radio Demon's plain smile gave no indication of the turmoil bubbling inside. The sight of Angel’s lifted features, his skin flushed pink and wet from…  bawling his heart out, it seemed, didn't conclude anything. Far from it. It stirred Alastor's curiousity, the appetite for secrecy reignited in the wake of their primal fuck. Angel's casual avoidance questionable, brushing off the pointed advice, the Overlord was always in a uncooperative mood.

Whereas the porn star held a wage pretending to lie and put on a mask. Alastor's situation was close to being cut from the same cloth. Approaching the distressing scene with a strained smile didn't mean compassion and tenderness weren't also presented on the same silver platter.

Trust was earned, not dished out carelessly.

“Sleep doesn't work if you're awake and mourning like you're at a funeral,” came the blunt chastisement, the solemn Overlord pausing briefly to slide the door lock into place first before continuing.

Crossing the threshold, Alastor's bold steps forward insinuated a reproachful accusation, the Radio Demon's demeanour strictly austere. The stretched smile���s potency faltering, lowering the pitch of his voice to a gentler tone, a hand was extended in offering from inside his robe — a three-quarters full bottle of prestigious brandy. Holding it firmly in front of his distraught sub's face, the Radio Demon compensated for their awkward height difference crouched in front, head canted to follow Angel's tilted line of sight. Fur/hair tousled, sweat drying it plastered to his scalp, the deer looked breathtaking in comparison to how Angel looked — and sounded — chewed up and worn out, left to rot in a ditch somewhere unsavoury. 

Offering his friend a bleak smile, trace elements of sincerity bleeding through, Alastor waited patiently, shutting off any intermissions from his background ambient radio frequency. It was just the two of them, one of them behaving like he'd just returned from a years’ long war.

“Would you like to talk about it? I've brought you some liquid courage, on the off chance you wanted a good story to explain the morning’s hangover. I suppose nobody heard... what we were doing," he appended the horrific if not true comprehension, squeamish at the thought. Breathing under control after composing his recovery chasing their fun, Angel's appearance befitted a pathetic weakling, the sobs Alastor had interrupted still pervading the deer's inquisitive thoughts even though the spider had caught his breath to speak.

[angie-long-legs]

“it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.”

The voice from the doorway snapped Angel out of his pity party, springing upright to meet the eye of the intruder who had caught him at such a vulnerable moment. It wasn't often that he allowed himself the luxury of a full-on sobbing breakdown, but the events of the night had unfolded as such that there was no other possible outcome. All other strategies had been exhausted: drugs, booze, casual sex, rinse and repeat. And still, it wasn't enough to bury it. No amount of dirt and filth would keep it from crawling into his consciousness - no matter how Angel tried to abandon the pain, it tracked him down with a vengeance. It devoured him.

And so, he had sought comfort of the carnal kind, playing out a kinky fantasy of his with his newly-adopted partner, the Radio Demon himself. And it had worked: it had helped him forget, given him that rush he needed, that catharsis... things were better.

And then they weren't.

The moment their play was over, Angel had retired to his bedroom. After all, what more could Alastor offer him? He'd been willing to indulge the spider in his erotic roleplay. They had both had their fun, and now it was over. Before the Overlord had a chance to ask Angel exactly why he wasn't sticking around for pillow-talk, he had been out of the door without a word. Collapsing in a heap on his bed, the porn star had finally felt able to cry, chest heaving with the ragged gulps and gasps that came tearing out as he succumbed to the ache of everything.

But, apparently, Alastor was not so easily deterred.

The stag himself was standing in Angel's doorway, smile intact, his expression as unreadable as it ever was.

"'M not cryin'," Angel mumbled uselessly, more than aware that there was not a chance in hell of the stag actually believing him. He was unsure exactly how long he had been curled up on the bed, bawling his eyes out, but it was long enough that he could feel his face had become swollen and streaked with tears. "'M just... tired, okay? Some of us down here actually sleep, ya know."

[rileyglas]

Demonic Convergence - Pt. 2 - A Cold Welcome

Hazbin Hotel OC Story x Alastor

@laudrawin did another uh-mazing piece for Part Two! This story is slowly building and I'm so excited to be building it with you!!! Althea and Vexel cross paths once again. In an intense conversation, they learn more about each other and find they are slowly obtaining a common enemy. Story below the cut!

Meet the OCs Pt. 1 - First Impressions

Vexel sat in his chair mulling over the events of Cannibal town. ~Those damn cannibals had some senseless resistance, I need to know more about it. They seemed to obey that woman. Atletha? Altaria? It started with an A. ~ 

He takes some time to note everything down in his journal, including the never ending list of questions. Who is this Vox man? How could Alastor be so arrogant yet so weak? Why did that woman want to keep her power a secret? The last one did have a pretty obvious answer, it was probably the same reason that he kept to himself. Stay unnoticed and keep ahold of whatever freewill this Hell allows. 

Too many questions and not enough answers. He needed to know more. Grabbing a loose piece of paper he jots down a letter and seals it with his magic. Now to get it to Althea. “Heniffer, come here please.” 

Althea sits sipping her tea next to the wooded bayou in her and Alastor's room. The peaceful quiet is abruptly interrupted by a sudden thud on the bed. The same bird seen with Vexel the other day now screeches in a panic, entwined in the sheets. 

"Oh hey woah! Chill, I got you." she coos, unraveling the bird from its binds. In her attempts to free it, she doesn't notice Vexel's note fly off the bed. 

Looking up, she sees a portal still open as the bird jumps in vain attempting to get back where it came from. "Would you like a hand dear?" she asks. The bird squawks in response. 

Althea picks her up and climbs through the portal into what appears to be a study or library. Books filled every wall with more stacked in piles scattered around the dimly lit room. She takes a moment to look around, amazed by the ancient scripts around her. The hotel had a library but nothing like this. She'd kill for even ten minutes with some of these books. 

Heniffer flies out of Althea’s arms, clumsily bonking the back of Vexel’s head. He turns around and his veins run cold. ~What is she doing here?~ 

He takes a seat at his desk, "You're not meant to be here. Try not coming through next time." His eyes glow as a portal opens under her feet in an attempt to send her back. Althea jumps onto a stack of books nearby to evade it, "Excuse me! Need you be reminded you intruded on me first? What's the deal?" she snaps, annoyed by his less than warm welcome.

He shrugs in response, "Sent a letter, had no pigeons." He lifts an eyebrow and rises from his chair. His eyes bounce between the portal and Althea, who was still in awe over the tomes around her. The portal closes, "Unless it's healing them, don't touch my books. Why staying?"

A smirk crosses her face. "Didn't see letter. Your “not pigeon” sucks. Give summary." she returns in the same cadence he gave her. Heniffer's skull turns 180 degrees, hissing disapprovingly at Althea’s comment. She looks at the chicken, "Oh calm down, you're adorable. You just suck as a messenger." she says coolly, trying to smooth over her words. 

"In summary?" Vexel’s voice drops to a more serious tone, "Screen man has contacted me. And he was very much interested in you and your pup. And the control I had over him."

Her eyes move to Vexel, chest tightening at the thought he might have given Vox exactly what he asked for, "First of all...Alastor isn't my dog. He's my - something...Doesn't matter. What did you tell him!? I need to know so I can prepare for that asshole to attack us again."

"Something meaning you’re imbeciles in love? No offense of course. And Vox wants my help in getting control over your dog. Curious, why did he let me take control? Is he that arrogant or was he testing me back...? " His mind wanders in theories for a moment. He returns to his chair behind the desk, "The coward TV didn't dare to speak to me face to face, just in case I controlled him too."

She scoffs at his arrogance and naivety, "From the sounds of it you and my dog...which again he's not...are more alike than you think. Both cocky, powerful, unamused by the idea of love..." she pauses with a slight laugh, trying to find the right words.

"I owed you a favor and now it's paid." his voice returns to its chilly tone. 

Althea realizes she must speak carefully in order to maintain what little face she has with this man. "Look, you didn't owe me in the first place, however you've far from done any favors." She steps off the book pile and walks towards his desk in the middle of the room, "If anything your little show only puts you and Alastor in more danger. Vox is a part of the Vee's. Him and his little posse aren't ones to be fucked with....”

She rubs the back of her neck uncomfortably, “Speaking of, what WAS that demonstration?"

He lifts his chin in a show of superiority. "You healed me without a reason, passing some information seemed fair enough." He closes his book and slides it across the desk to her. Looking closer she sees it’s a necromancy book. Her hand runs over the cover, "Fascinating..." she breathes.

An unamused snort comes from Vexel, "So the idea of me? In danger? All Vox was shouting about was destroying your sinner-boy! I'm in no danger, unless you put me in it." He tilts his head, tapping the book, "I'm a necromancer. I brought the dead back to serve me when I was alive. Now everybody here is technically dead. Who knows, with enough power I could rule over Hell. From the shadows of course." 

Her eyes stay locked on the book as she mulls over his words. He was cocky, maybe even more so than Alastor. He can control the dead, which is powerful indeed. But here in Hell there is always a limit. 

"Foolishness will only get you killed. Fuck with the wrong people and they will destroy your soul. No more fun, no more power." she says, frustration rising in her voice. "As for ruling over Hell....I have a hard time believing someone who couldn't even hold their own against a few lowly Cannibals would last five minutes against Vox, let alone take over anything."

She locks eyes with the necromancer, "I wouldn't put you between anything, but it's too late now. You're on his radar. You either join him or..." she shoves the book back towards him, "...you're only good to him dead."

"I could have killed those cannibals, but that wasn't my plan... Learning from mistakes, however, is a great skill." He stares at the book, then takes a deep breath as he stretches his back, a loud crack echoing through the room. "My theory is that souls get judged and sent back to hell when they die. However it would be a pity to lose all of my... potential." He stands up, now stretching his arms, maintaining an unphased expression, "I start with a V too, what's the problem? They're clearly the winning side, we had a favor for a favor, Atlantis. Why should I not join them? What knowledge can you offer me?"

An uncontrollable laugh bubbles out of Althea, "You know what - go ahead. Go meet the V's. Enjoy their little fuckfests they have with each other. You aren't one who strikes me as a porn fan but hey I've been wrong before. I'm sure you'd be a wonderful power bottom in their freaky little love triangle. While you're at it, ask them what happened the last time they tried to fuck with Alastor and I." She turns her back to him, hiding how much she would love to teach this arrogant son of a bitch a lesson in humility, "Last I checked the 'winning side' doesn't beg for others to help them control their opponent."

Vexel picks up a book from a nearby shelf, mumbling under his breath, "Let's see... I bet I can fully control your Alastor in a matter of weeks." His head remains buried in the book, pretending to read as his irises glow with power. Althea begins to feel the tip of her fingers going numb, magic threads trying to embrace her body.

She keeps her back to Vexel, knowing he is attempting to take control. Chess has always been her favorite game. She allows the threads to tighten and the numbness to travel up her arms. ~You always have to sacrifice a few pawns to get where you need to be. Come on, take the bait.~ 

"Just like that?" He whispers to himself, seeing how easily she allows him into her mind. The handcuffs that so easily contained Alastor were no more than weak threads on her, ones she could break anytime. ~ I can't look for a crack if she just allows me in like this.~ 

"You apparently haven't learned from your mistakes," she says quietly, feeling his control starting to fade, "You have a terrible habit of underestimating people. Having too much pride is quite unbecoming."

She frees her hands with a swift jerking motion but doesn't turn to face him yet. Anxiously, she rubs her hands together trying to shake the feeling of him, "Things work differently here. Try this shit on the wrong person and that's it. You need a safer way of testing your abilities and their limits."

He tilts his head with curiosity, "The cannibals resisted better than your deer boy somehow. The only limit I’ve seen is that my abilities only work on sinners, no hellborns. And seems like the more recent arrivals are the easier they are to control. Regardless, I remain confident in my skills." He lifts his chin, eyes glowing for a moment.

Althea takes in his words. ~The longer someone is here, the less power he holds. Looks like he starts fizzling out around 120 years if the cannibals gave him a hard time.~

She scoffs and shakes her head, "Yeah...looked real confident with your back against the wall, cowering away from a small woman's touch - " a needle appears in her hand. She swiftly turns around, holding it close to his throat. " - and you'll be even more useless against the Exorcists." She says through a smirk. 

"I was beaten down! You felt my pain, didn't you? Would you have been able to cast a thing in that state?" He grunts defensively. "A simple touch could be deadly here. Being cautious doesn't equal being a coward" He stands still for a moment, lifting an eyebrow to the sharp point she holds to him, "Threatening me in my own place? How stupid of you. Is that what you call yourself? An exorcist?" His cold stare matches his gesture, with the back of two fingers he moves away the needle, delivering a warning whip of his necromancy and slashing through her own magic. 

Althea can't fight the smile stretching across her face in pure amusement. Her cool tone reflects how relaxed she suddenly feels, "Relax Gene Simmons...I'm not trying to bash your obviously fragile ego. I understand being cautious, I just wish you would at least try to hear me out on how things work here." She steps around him, keeping a comfortable distance. Making her way to his desk, she delicately moves aside some books before sitting herself on top and crossing her legs. 

"You say you can't control hellborns...I'd imagine Angels would be just as impossible. Every year, self proclaimed Exorcists come down from Heaven and brutally attack the sinners that run the streets. They show no mercy, no grace. Last time they took out nearly twenty percent of the population." she shuffles uncomfortably at the idea of losing so many. She knows she can't save everyone but it still bothers her when she speaks about it. 

"It's Vexel" He grunts, not catching the name reference. He glares disapprovingly at her blatant disrespect of climbing on his desk. 

Back at the hotel, Alastor walks into the empty room. As he makes his way towards the table his brows furrow. A half full cup of tea remained along with Althea's book thrown to the floor. His eyes are pulled to the side of the disheveled bed to a small rolled up piece of paper. He cautiously unravels the note: 

Greetings, Althea. In doing the simplest of research I found your residence in that Hotel. Since we met last week, I didn’t have the need to contact you until now. Remember that flying machine that saw me getting control of your deer pup? It seems like it belongs to someone named Vox who is a part of "The Vs". I found it curious that their little group started with V! I could only assume that's why they invited me in. Or maybe because I managed to take control of your pocket sinner. Apparently they are deadly enemies of some sort, I could believe the screened face man has some sort of fetish over him, he was awfully obsessed with Alasturd.  Take this as my repayment for the help you offered. Vox is looking for someone more powerful than that overconfident static voice guy. Someone who can beat him down and I would assume kill him as well.  Have a nice day, and don't get too anxious about it. Vox sounded like he got hammered by him before.  Note: If Heniffer couldn't reach the portal, help her out.

Alastor growls through gritted teeth. He crumples the note, irritated by Vox's need to put his nose where it doesn't belong and by Vexel's sheer audacity to undermine him. "Pocket sinner!? What in Hell's name is a 'Heniffer'?" he sneers under his breath. Though seething, the real problem weighed heavy on his chest - where was Althea now and was she safe. 

He paces his bedroom trying to concentrate, trying to see if he could sense her anywhere within the city. ~At least I can tell she isn't near Vox right now~ Pausing for a moment, he nods to his shadow, sending it out in search of her while he continues pacing, trying to feel her presence.

"If those exorcists are dead human souls, I should be able to control them all the same. Perhaps they work differently, I'd need three to five test subjects to make sure.” he returns to sit behind his desk, taking the space furthest from Althea to place his notebook.

“If time works the same as here, which I assume it does since you spoke about a year, it should be as easy as with sinners. If they are heaven born though, I can only assume I wouldn’t be able to do much." A necromantic orb spawns on his hand. He sends it into a wall that lights up and changes to reveal a lab of sorts. Corpses of imps and other different hellborns float there, preserved. He sees the horror across Althea’s face, "Relax, I’m not a killer. It’s easy to acquire corpses around here with the daily assaults between demons." 

The necromancer's eyes shine, empowering the corpses to come back to life. They pass through the crystal-like wall. "Ask them anything, they keep their memory, but their souls were released long ago." 

"Wow..." Althea breathes, bringing her legs up in a crisscross position on the desk and ignoring Vexel's space.  Resting her chin on her hands, her eyes light up like a child. She ignores the grunts of annoyance behind her to admire the power he has over the corpses. 

In front of her stood four very different bodies. A jackal-like hellhound, a small male imp with white hair and a crooked horn, an incubus lacking an eye, and a huge baphomet. "Incredible. Truly..." her amazement slowly fades to sadness, realizing his comment on souls and, much to his dismay, recognizing one of them. 

"Unfortunately I haven't gathered an overlord just yet. Nor a deadly sin, an owl man or a fallen angel.” Vexels chimes from behind the desk. 

She looks over her shoulder to him, trying to hide the pang that hits her chest.  "So they're just....empty? Nothing but...flesh puppets under your command?" The soul is a powerful thing, something she always considered sacred. It has always been part of her motivation in helping sinners survive and, now with Charlie, possibly find redemption for their souls.

"These are but husks of what they once were. Puppets indeed." He walks over to them, studying each one. "If they're dead, the soul doesn't usually stick around. The longer they've been dead, the less soul. Heniffer in an exception to the rule." He turns to look at her, his eyes lit again. "It works slightly differently with those who are still alive here. If I take control of your pet, he'll recover his senses as soon as I release him, just like how it happened in Cannibal Town. I push his soul to take place of it, but it still watches and feels"

Althea lets out the breath she didn't realize she was holding, finding some comfort in his words. Pushing herself off his desk she can't help feel a pull to help Vexel expand his knowledge. With his power stopping short of Hellborns and older souls, there isn't a worry for him to take over any time soon. 

Stepping towards him, she tries to don a soft voice, "The Exorcists are different. Older. Adam chooses only the best from the oldest of the Angels. I fear you won't have much pull with them. And I don't know if it's worth the risk to try for any 'test subjects'." 

She looks to Heniffer and smiles, the little skeleton already growing on her. "Look I can tell you're about as dry as week old toast, but humor me for a moment - what exactly do you want Vexel? To team up with a bunch of self serving, less than prestige Overlords? Or do you want an opportunity to learn and study alongside someone who has already proven they are more than willing to help you? And don't give me that 'all knowing, I can do it myself' shit because you obviously have a lot you don't know about Hell." 

He taps his finger to his chin, "So Adam was real? Curious, I've always believed in evolution. I have the feeling it's pretty hard to kill an angel, I haven't seen anything after the last extermination. Not a single feather."

His pulls his eyes back to her, forcing the corpses  to do the same, "Now we seem to be on the same page." He tilts his head a bit, the slightest of the smirks on his face. "Am I not helping you already? Telling you about Vox's intentions?" His smirk grows. "I already picked a side, you and your pup are more... interesting. And if my tests go wrong I’d benefit greatly from having my own personal healer." 

Her arms cross confidently in front of her chest, moving forward in a test of his boundaries, "I should note Alastor and myself are Overlords as well...and I'd be willing to allow you to use him as a 'test'." her voice moves up an octave, almost teasing the idea like candy to a child. He steps backwards, crossing his arms in defense. His eyes narrow towards her, "What's this trick?" 

A smug grin tugs at the corners of her mouth and she raises an eyebrow, "You only prove my point in how much you need to learn. You've told us nothing we didn't already know about Vox. He's more of a thorn in our side than an actual 'enemy'." She closes the gap again, taking another step towards him, "And I wouldn't say the same page, but at least we are finally reading the same book. You'll find I'm far from a trickster or a liar. I'd say you'll learn to trust me but....I'm starting to think that word exists in your vocabulary." she says coyly. 

His eyes remain on her as he moves back around to his desk, regaining some space and petting the hen's skull. "It does exist, I trust Heniffer." 

Althea rolls her eyes with a quick look to the hen, "Yeeeeah not helping your image of 'trust' there buddy. You know if you gave Alastor a chance, you'd find you and him are more alike than you'd like to believe. He's been here longer than me. Rose to power quicker than anyone. You'd benefit greatly from learning a few things from him. And he'd benefit from being taken down a notch every now and then." she leans to one side, kicking her hip out as she mumbles the last sentence with some annoyance in her voice.

Something like a laugh escapes the necromancer's chest. "So you offer me the knowledge of two overlords and all I have to do is use your guardian angel as a training dummy, is that so?" He moves back in his chair, arms and legs crossed.

In one swift movement Althea is back at the desk, hoisting herself on top to sit criss cross. She stares face to face with the man in his chair, "You speak as though you've never been shown kindness or been offered anything without some backhanded motivation." 

She cocks her head and rests it on her arm propped on her knee, "Does my offer intimidate you, sir? Should I be worried you'd betray the same person who helped when she didn't need to?"

"I'm selfish indeed, but if you can't respect my boundaries now, what makes me think you will later?" His voice is sharp and cold. His eyes begin to glow, forcing a portal to appear on the desk under her.

"Easy!" she yells rolling backwards off the desk, catching herself on her feet and glaring angrily, "Other than breathing your air, I've shown no reason for you to be so cold towards me when I've given you nothing but an extended hand in growing your knowledge!" her fist pounds the desk next to the portal, losing some control of her frustration. Looking down she sees Alastor, frozen, staring at her from their hotel room. 

"Just a moment dear." she throws to him before returning daggers to Vexel, "Close it! We're not done here!" she commands. The necromancer peaks over to the portal, giving a brief wave before closing the portal. He stands eyes aglow, commanding the corpses back to their resting place behind the wall.

"Trying to force me to trust you isn't helping, Althea. And you showing aggression to my lack of trust doesn't help either. Like you, I must remain cautious and careful with my contacts. We should make a deal to preserve our own safety"

She cards her hands through her hair, trying to regain her composure and pacing in front of the desk. "You've been here long enough to know things are...tense. I'm not....I'm not trying to force anything. I just - " 

A long sigh leaves her throat as she collects her thoughts, "I've spent my afterlife making a point to protect the sinners of the city. Most hardly deserve to be here. Others - " she looks down at her shaking hands, " -others I should have let die. I’ve learned how shit demons can be, how ruthless." her head shakes, bringing herself out of her own thoughts, "I don't think a deal is something you want from me. We'd be tied to each other in one way or another and that requires some form of trust. I do not desire a deal where I have to watch my back every minute of the day. I think you of all people would understand that." She keeps her head down, leaning her hands against the desk.

He stands up, towering over at her. "Don't give me a reason to stab you in the back and I won't. That's the word I can give you." He walks next to her, opening a portal once more to the hotel in front of them. Defeated, Althea waves off the more than confused Alastor. She looks up to Vexel, voice unwavering. "The only thing I'm trying to force is how much good I'm trying to see in you. Collect your thoughts, questions, whatever. You know where to find me." 

She goes to step through the portal but pauses for a moment. A solemn look in her eyes as she approaches Vexel one last time, "Not that you care, but Michael was his name. Your little Imp 'test subject'.  He ran a tailor shop.  Worked hard, kept his nose down. Saved him a few years back but lost contact. Guess I have my answer as to why." she turns and enters through the portal, yelling a quick "Goodbye Vexel."

"I'll be in touch, Althea!" With an approving smirk he waves goodbye, "I'll kidnap you if in need, and I'll take special care of Michael." With a flick of his hand, the portal closes.

Alastor’s hands grasp onto Althea’s shoulders, "Care to share what the HELL you think you were doing? Why were you with him? What did he mean by kidnapping!? Is he working for Vox? HELLO!?" 

She ignores his million questions, shaking off his hands and walking out of the room, "Not right now Al - I need a drink. Or six." she hollers over her shoulder before closing the door, leaving the Radio Demon to simmer in his own rage. 

Within a minute, a small portal opens in front of Alastor. Something flies through and hits him in the face. He unfolds the small note: 

I'm on your team, Guardian Angel.  Vexel, your personal necromancer.

Alastor's lip curls into a snarl. The note goes up in a green flame in his hand, "A fucking necromancer..." he growls under his breath. The last "self proclaimed" necromancer he encountered was back when he was alive. Plenty supposedly lived in the bayous near his home, and Satan knows they were nothing but sneaky, conniving fools. 

~He might have Althea fooled, poor girl is so much like Charlie when it comes to seeing the best in everyone, but I will be keeping an extremely close eye on this Vexel.~

Pt. 2.5 - The Long Game

[hostradio]

another  day,  another  broadcast  —  and  oh,  what  a  LOVELY  broadcast  it  was.  the  radio  demon  always  finds  himself  in  the  highest  of  spirits  post  bathing  hell's  airwaves  in  screams  and  quality  entertainment  alike.  it's  his  life's  work  that's  spiraled  into  an  AFTERLIFE  of  amusement  and  he  couldn't  possibly  be  more  pleased.  he's  taken  to  unwinding  inside  his  radio  tower,  still  sitting  back  comfortably  in  the  seat  from  whence  he  conducts  his  shows.  alastor's  eyes  are�� closed,  soft  hum  in  his  throat  as  he  enjoys  the  jazzy  melody  tricking  from  a  nearby  gramophone.  (  vintage!  or  as  the  radio  demon  would  prefer  to  call  it,  A  CLASSIC!  )

tragically,  a  series  of  THUMPS  shatter  his  reverie.  eyes  snap  open.  the  sinner  stares  at  the  offending  window  —  arching  a  brow  when  nothing  appears  out  of  the  ordinary.  it's  swiftly  followed  by  another,  much  LOUDER  series  of  bangs  from  the  rooftop  —  and  oh,  if  this  is  someone's  idea  of  a  prank  they  must  truly  not  know  what  sort  of  fire  they  are  playing  with.  (  he'll  enjoy  flaying  them  alive  until  they  wish  they're  UNalive  twice  over!  )  delicately,  clawed  fingers  open  the  window.  he  pokes  his  head  out  just  in  time  to  be  greeted  with  a  blur  of  blue  and  white  —  such  DISTINCTLY  non-hellish  colors  that  they  capture  his  attention  immediately.  on  instinct,  a  tentacle  manifests  from  behind  his  back,  curling  around  the  intruder's  waist.  not  to  harm,  not  to  crush,  but  rather  to  pull  him  unceremoniously  inside  and  deposit  him  on  the  splintery  wood  floor  before  he  has  the  chance  to  plummet  to  the  ground.  all  the  while,  the  jazz  continues  to  play  and  somehow  the  energetic  music  feels  like  the  perfect  accompaniment  to  this  chaotic  turn  of  events.

alastor  blinks  down  at  the  prize  that  he's  acquired.  head  cants,  arms  fold  neatly  behind  his  back.  his  smile  inches  a  barely-perceptible  degree  higher,  as  if  he  can  hardly  contain  his  delight.  is  this  a  joke?  is  that  truly  an  ANGEL?  (  and  one  that  bears  such  uncanny  resemblance  to  a  certain  someone,  no  less.  )  ❝  oh  my!  how  kind  of  you  to  drop  in. ❞  aha.  a  pun.   ❝  you  are  an  awful  long  way  from  home,  aren't  you?  poor  thing. ❞

@hostradio liked for a starter!)

It is not everyday that an angel visits hell, especially outside of the Exterminations. But this particular seraphim has snuck his way out the back door, right out from under Heaven’s very nose, for a “scenic ride” around Hell. Lucid, disguised as a white and blue songbird, rides the warm air drafts above Pentagram City, mystified by the tall buildings and lights. Sure he has seen the grand central city of Heaven behind the Pearly Gates, but never has had the chance to truly see it. Explore, discover, converse with the Winners. Not when he is cooped up in the citadel that the majority of his Archangel siblings reside in.

Some of Hells native wildlife take notice to the pure white feathered anomaly, a murder of crows with sharp teeth and two sets of glowing red hues. They croak and hiss at the invader, taking wing. Lucid notices the on-coming assault, quickly dipping a wing to turn sharply in a new direction. With his focus on evading the blood thirsty flock, the disguised angel does not realize his flight takes him towards a large glassed radio tower. He scarcely avoids the window, clawed feet scratching against the glass as the white-blue bird hustles upwards with beating wings.

Several of the demonic crows collide into the glass, bouncing off and tail-spinning towards the ground. The rest screech and take off in different directions. Distracted by watching the others scatter, Lucid runs straight into one of the large megaphones at the top of the tower, knocking the angel dizzy. Falling to the roof, the bird bounces several times and over the edge. In a poof of golden glittering magic, Lucid turns back into his normal seraph form and scrambles his hands for anything to hold onto from falling.

“Oh Lord! Oh God! Oh fiddlesticks!”

[kathyprior4200]

Sinner’s Key and Ring Travel Theories

If sinners could travel to the other Rings via the Hellevator (tm):

Angel Dust goes to Lust, sees Asmodeus is worse than Valentino

Husk tries out his gambling luck in Greed.

Niffty goes to Dreamsville in Sloth to live her fantasies, until she's brought back to Hell as it were.

Charlie swims and meets the Eldritches in Envy. It is also where Malantis (Hell's Atlantis) is located.

Vaggie duels with Millie in Wrath.

Alastor enjoys grand feasts in Gluttony, selling hearts, organs and meat in Creole style dishes.

 The Hellevators are magical elevator devices used by the hellborn to travel to the different Rings/districts. The elevators fly through portals in different colored skies, from Pride at the top to Sloth at the bottom and back. The elevator has buttons with the different Ring names lit up "Pride" "Greed" "Lust" "Envy" "Gluttony" "Wrath" "Sloth". Each Hellevator is guarded by security to ensure intruders, sinners and dealers cannot pass. Creepy music-box music often plays inside.

Sinners cannot travel to the other Rings (1) because Lucifer's punishment involves ruling a realm full of sinners, and Lucifer hated sinners because he believed that angels were superior to man and that his father should've paid proper attention to him instead. Plus, he thought humans were primitive. (2) Only the hellborn can withstand the harsh environments of the other Rings and the effects of the portal traveling in general.

The Sinners Key may very well change that. The black device could allow sinners to travel to the other Rings without magic holding them back. (Perhaps only the Hellborn know the magic code to get into said elevators.) And Alastor may use it to cause more trouble and chaos. Why wouldn't a serial killer cannibal radio host want to laugh and scheme as Lucifer's reign slowly crumbles as sinners fight and revolt against the very system that brought them suffering/paradise. With more sinners learning the truth about Hell, war would be likely...and perhaps Alastor's true desire to see his mother may come faster. Alastor wouldn't have to be in power at all (he doesn't want power anyway)...he would be the mastermind behind all the events...and could bask in endless entertainment! For Alastor, Charlie naively trusting him fully and failing a lot would be even better!

Sinners physically cannot go to the other Rings. Unless...Lucifer does not want any sinners to travel to the other Rings because if they did, the former humans could discover Hell's system and secrets. With so many sinners around, they could overthrow the Seven Deadly Sins and expose Hell to the other humans to corrupt it further...at least that's the overall fear. Kind of like how Heaven fears that sinners will invade Heaven, bring chaos to their orderly structures and create HHWII (Heaven-Hell War 2), hence why the exterminations happen in the first place.

Charlie may not be able to save everyone...but she sure as Hell will try to save as many as she can to reunite them with their families in paradise. (Angel Dust, his mother and sister Molly, Alastor and his mother). Sinners may very well be living in a chaotic paradise matrix, oblivious to the real sufferings going on in Hell. (Same with the denizens of Heaven). Sinners and saints alike, trapped in two grand afterlife systems, pitted against each other.

Charlie and the Hazbins will have to face their darker selves and society if they have any hope of saving anyone.

“What If…Sinners Could Travel Through Hell’s Rings?”

 Hell’s Rings or Circles are various districts or locations in Hell with certain attributes. In Dante’s Inferno, nine circles of Hell are listed: Limbo, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Anger, Heresy, Violence, Fraud and Treachery. Each circle had its own punishments for the sinners to endure that corresponded to how they were in life. In Hazbin Hotel, on the other hand, the Circles or Rings as they are called are named after the Seven Deadly Sins: Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath and Sloth in that order from top to bottom. The seven demon overlord rulers each rule their Ring: Lucifer for Pride, Mammon for Greed, Asmodeus for Lust, Leviathan for Envy, Beelzebub for Gluttony, Satan for Wrath and Belphegor for Sloth. In Heaven, the districts are called Halos named after the Seven Heavenly Virtues: Humility, Charity, Chasity, Kindness, Temperance, Patience, and Diligence.

  In our main Hazbin Hotel universe, for an unexplained reason, sinners (former humans) cannot travel to the other Rings of Hell. They are only stuck in the Pride Ring, which is the main setting for Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. Only those born in Hell can travel to the other Rings. They travel via a magic elevator called the Hellevator that travels through portals in the different colored skies. Several theories may explain why it’s the case. First, it could be Lucifer’s punishment, seeing as he hates humans and believes that God should not have favored man over his own angelic children in Heaven. The second reason could be that sinners cannot physically tolerate or withstand the other environments and the traveling to the different Rings.

 But a third reason may be that Lucifer himself is hiding a sinister secret. If humans knew about Hell’s hierarchy and locations, the fear of human hordes taking over Hell’s foundation and the overlords may be the case. It is similar to how those in Heaven don’t want an overwhelmingly large amount of sinners overtaking their orderly world and questioning all the authorities.

 In addition, the fact that sinners in particular can respawn in Hell unless killed by an angelic weapon may be the source of the concern. After all, even the most powerful king or ruler in any dimension would fear an uprising of thousands of individuals who would just revive themselves.

 But what if…for a moment, sinners found a way to enter the other Rings? What if they could do so with the help of a very special black Sinner’s Key…a key that could change the fate of Hell, Heaven and Earth alike?

[voxxisms]

THERE'S SOMETHING wrong. something is shifting behind him, static in the air && a strange feeling creeping across his neck. what ... ?

shadows part, && standing directly behind him at his desk is alastor himself, a wide smile across his features, long fingers resting on vox's shoulders, gripping tightly. a familiar pit settles in vox's stomach.

❝ well now! vox, you didn't tell me you had a secret audience! such a shame you've been keeping them all to yourself, you sly dog. for someone who wanted so badly to work together, you really try to keep your secrets! ❞

[ ALASTOR has intruded as a guest muse! ]

[poison--ivory]

Uninviting Cataclysm (Alastor x Reader) Chapter 6

Warning: Homophobia and period typical racism

Part 1: link

Part 2: link

Part 3: link

Part 4: link

Part 5: link

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Alastor only saw red in that moment, his mind was taken over by a barrage of constant, annoying static noise filled his ears. Throbbing pain from his temple irritated him to no end, clutching at the spot to soothe the already splitting headache. Alastor couldn’t stop the numerous tremors exploding from his body, getting hit on the head by that bastard really set him into a state of shock, but quickly switched around into a state of fury. At this point he’ll be arriving at the party with grey hairs and crows feet.

    Struggling to stand up Alastor grasped at the wooden wall to catch himself from dropping to the hard floor. The only problem he had was seeing straight, getting hit on the temple would do that and he should know he did it to a lot of past victims before. They always had that far away look in their eyes whenever he struck them upside the head.

    His current prey at the moment bewildered him, taking her only a minute for her to grab one of his spare knives and luckily for him the dumb dora grabbed the blade instead and swung at him with the handle. No matter how idiotic it sounded it did bid her enough time to run up the stairs to the main house. She wouldn’t get far, he knew that much, since he figured that if she was skittish enough to only hit him with the handle she would try to hide instead of escaping. Alastor regained his composure promptly, with a slight provoked twitch of the eye, he leisurely strolled up the stairs taking notice of the front door. The lock was still intact and the two pennies he had between the door crevice were still tucked away nicely in place. The back door wasn’t tampered with either, the same type of coins shoved into the crevices haven’t moved an inch since placed there. Strolling back into the living room he noticed the turned up rug leading up to the second floor.

     Listening he could hear the light thumps of bare feet on hardwood coming from the second floor. Why the second floor? He questioned himself. She could’ve easily ran through the kitchen and into the backyard. Where she could have ran for help, which would be rather troubling for him that a white woman running in the slums of New Orleans clearly injured. Even if his reputation was good with the community it was still a man of color word against the word of a white woman. That would be a horrible outcome, considering he still had to finish his story and he was long from it being over just yet.

     But, instead she ran upstairs to where the only means of escape are the windows. Which in her state is a pretty dumb decision. He was so far in thought that it nearly slipped his mind that his mother is still resting on that same second floor of the house. And all caution flew straight from his mind as he bolted to the staircase, tripping on the first step and skipping three or four stairs just to get to his mother’s room.

     Long strides zeroed in on his mother’s bedroom door, opening the door swiftly and the old door squealed with a lowered howl. Doing a quick once over he glanced around the whole room, making sure that he didn’t cause too much noise to wake her. The comforting noise of his mother’s snores dimmed down his delusions in his head, but something lingered in the back of his brain once more. He tried to think of why he felt so paranoid, and then it struck him, he realized she never dropped that knife downstairs. On the contrary she still had that knife equipped on her. He should have brought a weapon, but brushed it off that she probably didn’t have much strength to hold the knife with her dominant hand. Now that he thought of it she was probably one of those people who can’t function right, without thinking about the situation as it’s happening. A loud and harsh thump from behind him caught him off guard, and he briskly turned around to search the room, eyes falling on the small frame crawling from under the bed. Her body trying to stand upright, but before she could pull the rest of her body out from under his mother’s bed, he grabbed her shoulder, his hold tight enough that she yelped in pain and dragged her out the room. Her cries of help fell on faint ears, but he couldn’t risk his mother waking up to her constant whining and so he threw the rest of her body out the door swiftly closing it behind him.

          “Leave. . .me alo-” A proper slamming of her head against the hallway table cut the rest of her screaming to mute itself. Her body curled up and she tried her damn hardest to crawl away from me. She was in such a state of shock that it was so effortless of a job of taking the knife she still closely held to her chest. He contemplated on killing her right then and there, nevertheless he decided on the ladder.

         “Now, miss your death would’ve been fast, but now I want to take my time with you.” He grinned, yanking her head to an angle that looked rather uncomfortable. “Hitting me on the head was one thing and I could’ve let it slide, however you fucked with my mama. She needs her sleep ya know, so it was very unkind of you to intrude on an old woman making all that unnecessary noise.” Dragging his hand on his face, pulling the skin from under his eyes to relieve some stress, but only getting more agitated. He reached for her ankle, dragging her back down the stairs and back into the basement, where he pushed her. Her back hit the stairs first, a cracking noise came with it and next was her arm, she landed on it when trying to catch herself. It bent at a weird angle and she screeched in agony, but nobody besides him would hear her. The neighbors at this time are usually outside singing, dancing or eating together which would be helpful in her case if she just ran outside like a sensible person in harm's way.

      She hit the bottom with a resounding thump, her body laying stiff at the end of the staircase. He knew that he would be terribly late to the party, which is something he would not be attending if it wasn’t for one particular person. His precious little dame, who’s been waiting for him to arrive over an hour ago. He figured he could have waited until next week to snuff the life of the “up and coming” song bird, but she just had to keep pushing his buttons. Her flirting was horrendous and her constant touching, on which he has to correct her on every time he’s near. But, now here he is dragging her unconscious body back to the slab of hard cement and pushing her dainty frame on the table, strapping her in tighter than earlier. The skin constricting with the restraints left them redden and will later bruise from all the thrashing she loves to do. By the time he was done with her straps, he noticed that she was still unconscious and from the look of it she wasn’t going to come out of it anytime soon.

      You know he could’ve left right then and there and he could be having a swell time at the party, but he just couldn’t risk the matter of her escaping again. She was far too close to his mother and he didn’t want to take that risk her health or life because his prey slipped from between his fingers. With that aim in order he decided to stay until she woke up and when she did rise from her wake, he was going to give her hell.

-----------------------

           “Al, can you hear me.” A small voice interrupts his train of thought from all the irritating events that took place tonight. “Did you hear me, Ally.”

    He masked his twitching eye with his signature, charming grin, but behind that masked smile he hated that nickname, ever since the school boys heard his mother use it. They called him a faggot and grinded his face into the concrete, he could still feel their filthy hands clutching his skin, leaving visible bruises the next day. His father wasn’t much better either, the day he saw those kids beating on him he took him hunting. Those seven days of hunting were just his father’s excuse to get him alone without his mom there. His father would hit him for missing a shot, gutting a fish wrong or for leaving his shoes inside the tent.

   A few too many kicks and slaps to the back of the head steered into a direction he regretted. His vision turned red on the third slap that day and what drove him to giving a square hit to his old man’s chin. His father stumbled, dazing off at the sky for a few seconds, before sluggishly dropping his head, his cold and empty eyes trained on his small frame. Following, soon after was a constant session of air trying to escape his throat and taking deep breaths before his esophagus closed up again. It took him over a full minute and half to pry off his father’s hand, afterward they went home, father coaching him not to say a damn thing to his mama.

   Groaning he sat straight upright,“I would like it if you didn’t call me that, dear.” a slight tone of annoyance very subtle in his voice. “What were you saying again, love.”

        “I was just thinking since you already met my family. Can I please meet your mother?” Big doe eyes peered up at him in the moonlight dimmed room.

   Meeting his mom was something he always thought about, but he keeps imaging her going into the basement or finding some of the bloody jars of organs in the downstairs freezer. But, he knows how to guilt trip, manipulate and lead her down the path that he wants that’s how he got her to stay with only him. He could easily handle (Y/n), she was very obeying even if she was a little hard headed and little too carefree for his taste.

   Her big eyes curiously gazed up at my face, and a quick flash of her face flickered in his mind caved in and mashed like a bowl of ground beef. He didn’t know why, but he thought of killing her in that moment, getting her out of his hair and not having to worry about a curious dame. But, he wanted to ride this out long enough to see where this ended, even if he does end up killing her later in life. At least he was the one to kill this young barecat before anyone else could even think of it.

        “Right now might not be a great time, she’s has a rather weak immune system and I can’t have her getting sick on me.” His hand ran through her tousled hair and gently caressed her cheek, his body heating up with the thought of her blood smearing these bed sheets. “Sorry, love.”

        “Well, if that's the case can I talk to her on the phone. This way I won’t get her sick and I get the chance to talk to your mama.” A sleepy smile graced her lips and heavy eyelids threaten to close any minute now. He could have said no, but why not this way he didn’t have to die of embarrassment from his mother showing her any unnecessary photos lying around. “So, can I baby?” At least she changed that annoying pet name.

        “Oh, fine.” An exasperated sigh left his body and gave a playful glare down at her. “But,only if I get a kiss first.”

  (Y/n) leisurely sat up and climbed in my lap, entangling our legs while at it. She softly puckered her lips and lightly pecked his cheek, lying her head on his chest soon after.

       “Tired, my dear.”

        “Mhmm.”

     He already knew the answer to that question, she won’t say it out loud, but he knew that she was feeling intense pain ever since that small spell he placed on her.

     Every time he felt such fierce hatred or anger she would feel this unbearable pain in her chest and he knows that sounds weird for putting a spell on a young bim he loves. Yet, he loved the facial expressions on her face when she’s in great pain. It brings him so much enthusiasm to know he’s giving her this unbearable agony. He especially finds it very amusing when she tries to cover it up, like in the boiler earlier. He was in a deep thought of that dumb dora he killed and was slowly getting more pissed by the second of just thinking about her and her stupidity of failing to escape. He didn’t even realize until he looked over at her that she was clutching at her dress very tightly, moving from side to side in her seat and asking him small questions from time to time. Well, that was just another side effect from the spell, needing the attention of the spellcaster's eyes on them to feel. . . “special” in a sort of way.

    This was just a quicker way of acquiring his lovely dame all to himself, manipulating her into a thoughtless little lady soon enough.

   Smirking to himself he raked his fingers down her hair and back before repeating the process. “Well, I hope you have a very peaceful rest my dear (Y/n).” She was already asleep by the time he said this, her slowed down breathing giving her away that she was past the state of early sleep. When she awoke the following morning she would most likely forget about this whole ordeal and would be too busy in her autopilot day to day lifestyle.

        “You’ll meet mother when she deems it right to finally see you. No need to rush it, you'll both meet soon enough.”

[xradinoxinterloperx]

Vs Cp2 - Trip off (draft teaser)

Roughly translated English fragment of  the beggining  of the second chapter im  writting in my Vaggie centred fanfic.

Characters: Angel Dust, Niffty, Vaggie. Alastor, Charlie (minor appearences)

- What horse crap is this! - Angel complained- the interhell (Internet) also exists down here for something, ya know? i never agreed to this.

-Come on, it's just hand out some papers, we're not asking much of you! - Vaggie answered by his side trying not to lose his composure .

a speeding car in a corner flew one of the papers on Angel’s face  and worse,  splashed him with  water from the drains. Vaggie evaded spatter receding, Niffty, who was also with them, jumped aside to grab the papers she was carrying so that they also did not fly away, evading the water by chance and lack of height.

The spider growled hysterically, taking out a paper from his face then curshing it in his hand

- This stinks ...

Niffty looked at him containing herself, although her legs and arms were shaking. Charlie had  friendely nag her several times when  she throw herself on top of any guest or hotel member to remove any small stain or crumbs that she noticed on  their clothes or body. Considering that, slowly the little cyclops took out a white handkerchief and asked calmly, almost shy .

- Oh, Angel, do you need me to clean you a little?

 - If you want, I don't think you do much with…. Hey wait!

Niffty had thrown herself on him and rubbed him frantically, causing the spider to barely stand  by the tickling. When Niffty reacted and stopped, Angel was as clean as before being splashed and Niffty's handkerchief was absolutely brown.

- Oh, I'm sorry - The little girl apologized.

Angel looked surprised and just ended up combing his hair a  bit.

-Mmm ... I can't complain about the results ... Thanks honey. - Angel rubbed the head of Niffty who smiled at her with all her teeth back satisfied with herself. Vaggie also smiled a little behind them, then cleared her voice.

- Well, let's continue with this, the sooner we finish with this pamphlets, tickets and lists, the better for everyone.

Angel eyerolled resignedly and followed.

The Organization for the meeting and presentation at the hotel continued. First Charlie and Alastor had dreamed big about making it open to everyone, but soon Vaggie made them realize that something so public could be too chaotic and uncomfortable. Something The Overlords that had agreed to go (Mainly Stolas, and other feathered ones, plus Lucifer) might find unpleasant. And annoying the "Nobility" of hell could not only cause things to fail, but that the people who attended were at risk of dying.

 So they had decided that the assistance will be based on limited tickets or quota lists that will be distributed to some key sites in the city for those interested. Alastor had insisted that they be tickets, pamphlets and conventional tickets, even if it was outdated, for several reasons. First because the digital media were influenced and monitored by the Overlord Vox, who could intrude on or sabotage anything  digitally published, even more being a rival of Alastor himself. When everyone commented that they could probably easily damage the papers they distributed as well, Alastor said that it would make the papers not so easy to break and that even if they discarded most of the papers distributed, then the people who would come would be the one really interested or as he remarked , "Desperate enough to come," and that he would make sure, that those who will sign the ticket lists really "would" come. Vaggie understood that as something related to his powers and his reputation as a deal maker, probably his powers would force the ones enrolled to attend. 

She was not 100% sure of any of this, or the way to attract public or the meeting itself, but without better ideas, she did not oppose. Again,  more than anything she did this for Charlie. After all, what was the great presentation they would make at the hotel? They honestly had no results yet to surprise anyone. But Charlie was already rehearsing a speech for presentations with Alastor, and she seemed to think she would do better than the first time in her presentation at the news station with Katie Killjoy. Vaggie supported her mainly for another reason, because Charlie would see her parents again, whose relationship had been deteriorating due to their absence for a long time now. Although Lilith had said to support that  her daughter had initiative with her idea of ​​the hotel. After giving them that old building, she had known little more about her or Lucifer.

On hard days and nights where things were not going well, and even Charlie's mood could not cope with everything, sometimes she realized that The Princess was hiding or leaving the hotel, only to find a corner where to call her mother secretly . And for a long time it seemed that most of the time Lilith seemed not to answer her and not return calls. Then, Charlie had to gather the little mood she had to at least console herself by leaving a presentable voice message to her mother, telling something that especially bothered her but always wanting to pretend that she would get over it anyway and that everything was going well. Before the Last time, when Vaggie asked, Charlie had even lied to her, pretending she had talked to her mother on the phone. She knew Charlie didn't do it with bad intention, I did it because I didn't want to feel weak and useless in revealing being ignored. She felt guilty for the rejection she felt. The last one had been even worse, she had listened to her, running the water to cover his sobs and trying unsuccessfully to leave a message, 2 or 3 times ... Until she broke and resigned. She had not been able to bear it and had entered the bathroom just to hug her, to repeat her tiressly "It's not your fault, You're not a failure." Seeing her like this broke her heart, so she understood how important this reunion would be at the party for her. She would have bet that Zaza would know what to say, to overcome and not suffer so much the shadow of her parents, if only Charlie knew her and grow fond of her.

Now, while that memory crossed her mind, Vaggie approached with the remaining tickets, lists and pamphlets near the bar "Los Condenados." In the following days she had not had the opportunity to go back to the bar, although Charlie had shown interest in meeting the place. Surely Zaza, Vic and company would agree to go to the meeting and behave. The Moth Demon approached the place, it was about 5 p.m. on the clock in hell. The Bar sign moved slightly as usual, but the site was silent and there was no one, it was closed. They should open only at dusk. She approached the door anyway, and ran under it some of her papers, optimistic. A voice behind her surprised her.

-¿Que Hacés?

The imposing and elongated figure of Maria was behind her, carrying market bags in 4 of her 6 arms, her long serpentine body stretching down the steps leading to the entrance.

-Oh. hola Maria-  Greeted Vaggie.

Maria watched her be, tilting her head aside for a moment, until finally recognizing her.

- Oh, it's you.- she said not very sure- Vic's friend, mmm ... Vac, Vig ...

- Vaggie ... - she clarified in a good mood.

- Yes, sorry. What are you doing here? We don't open until later. - Maria said in her neutral tone and straight to the point.

- Yes, I imagined, but hey, I thought maybe Zaza would be interested in giving some of these for me - Vaggie said approaching and offering her the pamphlest, having to stretch and make the Serpent  lean down to take it, seeing that her 4 lower arms were occupied with the bags.

Maria took a quick look. Vaggie offered help with a bag but the huge demon denied carefree, Vaggie continued explaining.

It is an event that we will do, nothing too big, but it will be a presentation of the project we have, and we will accept certain amount of  Invited Guest. Maybe they want to come, we have a good lobby and bar to hang out, it will be fun with Zaza and Vic there.

Maria smiled a little looking at the paper. Vaggie felt somewhat beaten when she felt a hint of irony in her smirk smile, but at least she wasn't laughing, throwing the papaers out or making fun of them like most places they were tyring to deliver the papers.

- Well, it will surely be something interesting, but I don't know how lucky you are with us. The Bar opens every day and Vic left the city again, I don't know for so long.

Vaggie couldn't help looking down with some discouragement.

-Oh ...

Maria encouraged her by speaking somewhat condescending.

- But fear not, I will accept some tickets  and that list. Zaza sure will leave them in sight, although I cannot assure you that our clientele  will be  interested in this.

- I would really appreciate that Maria,  Muchas Gracias.

- No Hay de que. Zaza is also shopping for the bar,  Otherwise I would tell you to wait for her, she would love to see you. Let's see when you come with us again.

Vaggie appreciated the gesture of the imposing Bouncer. They shared a few more positive words before Vaggie said goodbye to the reserved Maria. A shame not to have shared a little more time in the bar, she really wish  for that today. Spreading the pamphlets, tickets and lists had been a challenge, and even a test of temper and redemption for the trio. Most sinful demons still gave a damn about the hotel and its cause. Some of them directly did not even let the pamphlets hang because in the proximity of their home or bussines, or they would use them as toilet paper. In some places where they were distributed, then they saw them flying through the streets almost minutes after leaving them there. It was frustrating, but Vaggie noticed something hopeful in all that boomer. While she was collecting thrown tickets, she saw people in the alleys, the poorest and most miserable ragged demons, take some of the thrown tickets. Hell was no place for weakness and perhaps the most miserable would be the most suitable to accept at the meeting, although perhaps they would have to be separated from the VIPS and only went  for food, what would be more redeeming than taking the most helpless demons ? She hated to admit it but Alastor was right about that of the most Desperate biting the hook.

Even going down the steps near the bar, Vaggie thought about where to start looking for her other two companions, she didn't see them for a long time when they separated. Surprisingly she found Niffty not far from where she was and apparently free of his papers.

-Niffty! - she smiled surprised - you have no papers left?

The last time she had seen her, Niffty had had the great idea of ​​using her small size and speed for, seeing that no one would take the papers from her hands even if she offered them to screams, just run around people without being noticed, and leave the tickets and pamphlets in their pockets, clothes, hair, ears, mouths, stick pamphlets on their backs without being noticed and things like that, although it had not always worked out well.

- Yeap!, Angel had a very good idea of ​​how to make demons take the tickets and  he already  gave all that I had left! Now he is with the rest.

Vaggie grimaced not very convinced, a "Oh No" was already ringing in her head, thinking what madness would  the spider had planned. And it would always be something worse than she could imagine.

In a corner of one of the main streets, wagging and lifting the short dress and flirting provocatively. A spider with long white hair and exquisite makeup was offering to those who passed, with a sign next to it that said "Take a ticket and have a sample of Angel Sugar" The Premise was simple, Angel had the tickets hidden in different parts of his body, and whoever wanted to touch for free had to accept one of the papers. The thing had gone very well since every pervert that happened to pass by did take one and most seemed to be complying with the premise, at least for now. Like Drag Queen, Angel was giving a pretty effective show, although he had to put some idiot in their place ...

- ANGEL WHAT THE FUCK? - Roared Vaggie clenching her teeth and with her eye on fire. The spider got distracted and turned. Niffty looked all innocent next to Vaggie.

- What Toots? is working, you told me we had to be witty, right? And I know what people want... - said the spider taking the fur that made up his colorful breasts.

. YOU'RE NOT GIVING TICKETS FOR A FUCKING CABARET!

 - Oh, quit yapping...

While Angel turned from his view to the street to talk to Vaggie, a colorful pink limousine parked behind him on the side of the street.

- ... Maybe if you showed a little sugar you would also do better, I could show you how ...

Before Angel could react, one of the car's   windows came down and one hand took an arm of the spider , immediately the car would start speeding dragging Angel with him.

- Angel! - Vaggie shouted helplessly, while the car accelerated down the street.

The Strong arm dragged Angel inside, in the sudden movement he finished with his wig covering his eyes.

-Hey! What the fuck is going on? - Angel exclaimed until he could finally tear off his wig and look around.

In front of him, with his intimidating face and looking angrily at him, he recognized his "Boss".

Valentino ... - he suddenly exclaimed calming his tone.

The Pimp only responded by frowning more, with his arms crossed.

- Hello Angie. - A sweet girly voice beside him exclaimed taking one of his arms

Angel opened his eyes wide.

Velvet? - He said after seeing the dark and cunning face of the smiling Overlord, immediately noticed his own voice and smiled -... dear ...

[husky-boi]

"Dont. Fucking. Touch me-" Before Husk even had the chance to try and claw Niss' heart from his body, he was already gone. He didn't need this, he didn't want this, and all he could 'think or whatever' was that he's a fucking failure and screwed up everything. If he knew how to leave, he would. But for now all he could do was sit here and try not to destroy everything around him. Everything smelled like Niss and it was intruding every one of his thoughts, it almost made things worse.

"I... I'm so sorry, if I'd known, I..." Alastor had been considering sending out his shadow to check on Husk, but not anymore. He didn't deserve that kind of concern, if he could just... Hurt, and lie, and betray so willingly. In love with him or not, that was completely unforgivable. "I'll ensure he doesn't intrude on events like this in the future... Angel, darling, when we leave I believe we need to rediscuss some of our planning."

Golden eyes followed the gesture. Husk still wanted Alastor. The poor cat had never gotten over the deer. How sad. It was a good thing Niss had at least been able to move on. Couldn’t imagine how much that must hurt the poor bastard known as Husk. He turned his golden gaze back to Al and smiled. “Ya nevah’ know.” He chuckled lightly, “it was quite th’ pain watchin’ ya two pine ov’r each other in circles like a cat an’ mouse. Still, love takes time.” He looked up at Lilith and squeezed her hand lovingly.

Angel felt himself flush and smiled at Alastor’s words. He was just as happy as Niss was now. 

Lucifer came back over to snake an arm around Niss’s waist once more. “Everyone is in. I hope you all enjoy the event we put together. There will be plenty of performances for your amusement!” He placed a few kisses on Niss’s face before turning back to everyone. “As you know, there are drinks and foods all provided here for you! And we have goodie bags, too! that was my idea!” 

Arackniss actually giggled at Lucifer’s excitement, finding it absolutely adorable.

[voxxisms]

anonymous whispered a line to  ALASTOR  !! unprompted  ( always accepting! ) were you and vox ever friends?

        ❛  Oh,  he probably thinks so.  We certainly used to go around the block together for a good while,  but I thorougly enjoyed having him wrapped around my finger.  He's so easy,  you know,  to handle.  I have a direct tap into his silly little mind,  I could hear every little thought if I wanted to.  Of course,  I usually don't,  he's very sick,  but,  it is something I could do!  Not sure I would label us as friends,  though,  no,  darling.  I like seeing him suffer too much for that!  ❜