#I like hazbin but it’s far from polished

[djsherriff-responses]

Watching videos on signalis and like, man you can use a lot of red in environment and character design, Hazbin Hotel just sucks total ass at it

[anxious-lee]

Ask || Hazbin Tickle Fic ||

A/N: what can I say? they inspire me. you know what else inspires me? the agonizing lack of content there is for them 💀

Ship: Huskerdust

No beta, we die for our craft

Word count: 1,720

------

One wouldn't typically think of obnoxious behavior as out of character for Angel Dust, but this was a tad excessive. In a way that spells out exactly what he wants, if you know what to look for.

Angel had a very particular set of needs, some being more overt than others, but one facet of his desire was not known to many. Ironically, his incessant jabber of licking holes and getting punished weren't nearly as vulnerable as this information was. He never told his nightly flings, he never told Valentino, and he rarely became close enough to anyone to be able to share.

Angel Dust, the world-renowned porn star, loved to be tickled.

Now, some might say this could very easily fit into his menagerie of BDSM kinks. But that's what was so humiliating. It wasn't a kink. It wasn't sexy. It was romantic. Even downright fond.

His need would be fulfilled from time to time as partners or clients sought playfulness, but he wouldn't bring up his appreciation of it. Merely went along with and pretended to hate it. How far that was from the truth.

The obvious downside to this, of course, is that no one is available to satisfy your lee moods. Like today, for example.

The minute Angel woke up, he knew today was going to be one of those days.

The thoughts were driving him mad. He needed someone to hold him and touch him and take away his control in a way that had nothing to do with pain or power. It was about trust and love and sharing and fucking christ, does he sound like a hippie.

The thought of telling Husk did cross his mind, seeing as how they were now a month into their relationship, but he quickly banished it to where all the other scary thoughts go. Surely, he would laugh at him or look at him with disgust.

He couldn't risk it this time.

Not with Husk.

Not with him.

Fortunately, there was an option B. You see, he already loved to get on people's nerves, and that happened to be the most successful way to get tickled. As retribution.

The hotel guests, of course, didn't pick up on Angel's different behavior. They merely gave him a smirk or an eye-roll, but nothing more. Except, of course, Husk.

----

Angel sauntered over to the bar counter where his pussycat was busy at work polishing bottles.

"Mornin', Whiskers. Did ya dream of me?" Angel said, batting his eyelashes.

Husk chuckled. "Yeah, I did. It was the noisiest dream of my afterlife."

Angel gasped in mock offense and pouted. "I thought you liked our little chats!"

"I do when I'm not working. Just sit tight until I'm on my break, we can go cuddle as much as you want then, okay?"

"But that's sooo long from now!"

Returning to his bottles, Husk half-turned away from Angel, who was growing antsy.

He waited a couple of moments, then very swiftly poked his bartender in the arm.

"Baby, I can't talk right now, I'm busy."

Another poke.

"Fuck, can't you wait 5 minutes?" Husk sighed with a hint of annoyance.

It seemed to be working. One more push should send him over the edge.

Angel plucked the rag out of Husk's paw and held it out of his reach.

Husk finally turned to face his boyfriend.

Was this it? Was he gonna snap and tickle him senseless for pestering him?

The cat leaned forward, grabbed the rag, and went back to his task after giving Angel a tired glare.

It was obvious to the spider that his lover wouldn't bite. Defeated, he left the bar to find something else to distract himself with.

----

It was a few hours later when Angel found himself cuddled up next to Husk watching a movie. It was some crime boss flick, something-or-other. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't paying much attention to it. The incessant thoughts of laughter and smiles spun 'round his head, keeping his focus off of the gunfight happening on-screen.

On impulse, Angel started playing with Husk's ears, plucking and pulling and flicking in any way he could to get a rise out of him.

"What the- stop! I'm trying to watch." The cat said.

"I ain't doing nothing~"

Next, Angel gave a teensy little push to Husk's tophat, just enough to put it off-center.

"If you're that bored, why'd you pick this movie?" Was the reply.

"Who said I was bored? I'm very entertained," Angel said.

And finally, he twirled his finger around the tail beside him like a spaghetti noodle and gave it a tug.

That seemed to do the trick. Husk's face whipped to meet Angel's.

"What is going on with you? You've been pressing my buttons all day. What's the matter? You feeling friskier than normal or somethin'?" Husk was confused, and annoyed certainly, but more than anything, curious. This wasn't typical Angel Dust behavior. This was a cry for help. In regards to what, he had no idea.

Angel certainly wasn't giving him any help. "I don't know what you're talking about," he quipped with a smile tugging at his lips.

Husk watched him for a moment, then seemingly gave up and returned to cuddling in front of the movie.

It only frustrated Angel more. What was with this guy?! It didn't normally take THIS much effort to instigate a good tickle fight! And the cuddling made everything worse. Like waving a bone in front of a dog. He was given just enough touch to drive him crazy but not enough to satisfy his hunger.

----

Several days had gone by, and Angel's lee mood persisted, and Husk still wasn't taking the bait. The spider began to wonder if he would ever get tickled again at this rate.

One night, the two sinners were sitting in bed together, being on their phones or reading. It was quiet nights in with each other like these that they treasured more than anything.

Angel had lost almost all hope of actually getting tickled. No matter what he tried to get Husk's goat, nothing worked. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

Husk was so enraptured by the book in front of him that he didn't notice the mischievous look creeping onto his boyfriend's face.

Angel snatched the book out from Husk's nose and dangled it in front of him. "Why would you want to look at some ol' book when you could be looking at meee~?"

Husk gave the usual huff and eye-roll.

Angel waited for a moment, then set the book aside in order to sprawl across Husk's lap with his hands supporting his head.

"What's the matter, Whiskers?" He emphasized the provoking nickname. "Am I botherin' ya?"

Angel pursed his lips and gave the kitty's nose a boop.

For a moment, it was silent as Husk looked down at his lover in what looked to be...

An epiphany.

Then came the chuckle.

"You know, if you wanted it so bad, you coulda just asked," Husk sultry said.

What?

What did that-

Angel didn't have time to finish the thought before Husk's claws were dancing nimbly on his sides. He squealed in startlement, and the giggles came flowing out. As much as his body wanted to worm and wriggle away from the touch, his heart was exactly where it wanted to be. Where he needed to be. But what Husk had said-

"Whahat does thahahat mehehean?!" The spider queried.

"Don't act like you haven't been trying to provoke me into ticklin' you this whole time. Honestly, it all seems kinda obvious now," Husk laughed, "Can't believe I didn't piece it together sooner."

Wait, he knew?!

Abort, abort, abort!

"I dohont know whahahat you're tahahalking abohohout!"

"Relax, I ain't judging," Husk assured warmly, "I've heard of far stranger things than a pesky little brat who wants to relinquish control every now and then. 'Sides, I can't say it's not adorable." His voice took on a more teasing tone at that last statement.

And Angel noticed it.

His face began burning hellfire red as the claws at his sides still scribbled furiously, and his giggles now elevated to laughter.

"Ihihit's NOHOHOT!" Angel cried indignantly.

"Uh huh. And what do you call this?" Husk darted his hands up to the spider's neck and scritched and scratched into every nook and cranny he could reach.

Glass could shatter at the pitch Angel shrieked. His chortles returned to snickers and giggles as he tried to invert his head into his body like a turtle. What's more, he even began to 'tee-hee'. Like a coquettish little school girl. How humiliating.

"Seems pretty cute to me~," Husk cooed with a saccharine smile.

Angel couldn't tell if he loved it or hated it.

"I've never seen this smile on you before! Maybe I should tickle you all the time."

Definitely loved it.

Husk ran his claws down from his neck to his shoulders all the way down to his underarms.

The spider's arms snapped with the strength of a bear trap. He screeched with all his might and began to cackle. This was the most pleasant hell he's ever been in! His face-splitting grin wasn't just from all the laughing. He hoped Husk knew that.

The cat in question jumped at the loud noise. "Woah! Didn't realize this was a bad spot. You okay down there?" His fingers slowing for a second.

Angel could not nod fast enough.

Husk could feel his icy heart melting. Christ, the things this boy did to him. He'd keep this up all night if it kept Angel happy and free and forgetful of his troubles.

"Alright, just let me know when you've had enough," and with that, Husk tickled his pits harder than he did before, "But next time, just ask for this instead of purposely getting on my nerves. I'd rather just give you the love without the headache, okay baby?"

And he did.

It wasn't easy for Angel, but part of this new dynamic was learning to trust each other, hoping that the other would catch them when they fell. Every moment they spent together proved that they would.

But for now, all that was left was Angel's blissful laughter, Husk's light-hearted teases, and five nosy tennants listening in from beyond the door.

-------

The more tickle scenes I write, the harder it is to think of new things to say lol 😅

Thank you all so much for the kind feedback, you guys are why I write ❤️

[yesihaveaobsession]

Crimson Sanctuary

WARNINGS!!!! DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, ABUSE MENTIONED~!!!! (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Alastor x female reader

Summary: After getting in a huge fight with your drunk boyfriend, leaving you bruised and broke from head to toe you go to the one person you felt safe with, Alastor

WARNINGS!!!! DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, ABUSE MENTIONED~!!!! (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

A/N- I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, I love the song "wait in the truck" by HARDY so this kind of inspired this piece, enjoy!

song inspiration kind of:

The cool, dimly lit hallway of the Hazbin Hotel felt like a sanctuary compared to where you'd just been. Your legs shook as you leaned heavily against the wall, each one of your steps sending a wave of pain through your body. Bruises covered your body, aching so much that it reminded you of the fight you’d had with your boyfriend. You couldn’t take it anymore—not after tonight. He had come home from the bar drunk, and the smallest thing had set him off. That was it. You’d had enough, but you didn’t know where else to go.

Your breath came in ragged bursts as you pushed yourself deeper into the hotel, hoping only the person you came to see would notice you. You didn’t even want him to see you like this, but that was the reality now. Desperation drove you forward, pushing you toward the one person you truly trusted—Alastor.

Then, you heard it—his distant humming, that eerie, lilting melody he often whistled when he thought no one was listening. It was a strange comfort. You managed a few more steps before your legs gave out under you, collapsing onto the floor in a heap. Pain flared through your bruised body as you hit the ground, a soft groan escaping your lips. You just laid there, panting and trembling, too weak to get up. You resigned yourself to this moment—there was nothing more you could do.

The door to Alastor’s room creaked open. He was on his way out, probably for one of his usual outings. In that moment, you heard his humming stop. There was a brief pause before he spoke.

“Dear?” His voice was surprisingly soft. You could’ve sworn the radio filter usually gracing his voice had vanished for a moment. That's when his polished pointe shoes came into view and he was kneeling at your side, his gloved claws reaching out to steady you. "Darling," he said in a low, quieter tone, “what has happened?” His clawed hand hesitantly reached out, gently brushing against you to assure you that he meant no harm.

You tried to answer—you wanted to—but your throat was too tight. He studied you closely, his eyes flicking over your injuries. And just like that, he knew.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Alastor's voice was now laced with venom, though his touch remained impossibly gentle. You didn’t have to answer; he’d seen this before, far too many times. He had warned you, but this wasn’t about being right. It was about you, broken and desperate, and with nowhere else to turn.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” he said, his voice still soft as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. Your eyes, hooded and exhausted, met his. They were heavy with fatigue and pain, filled with the weight of everything you’d been through. His gaze burned with fury, but none of it was directed at you.

“You did the right thing coming here,” he continued. “You are always welcome here, and I assure you, you will not be going back to him.”

The threat behind his words lingered, palpable and real. He would make sure of that. The thought of what Alastor might do to your ex made your stomach churn, but you were too exhausted, too broken to care. Carefully, Alastor helped you to your feet, his hand never leaving your waist as he guided you toward his room.

“Come now, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we? You’ll be safe here.”

He led you into his room, the warmth and the flickering glow of the fireplace instantly wrapping you in a sense of comfort. Without another word, no hum, he guided you toward a large, cushioned armchair in front of the fire. Alastor's touch was gentle but firm as he helped you sit down slowly, his hands lingering for a moment longer to ensure you were steady.

As you sank into the armchair, the soft fabric cradling your aching body, Alastor's tall and long frame knelt before you, his sharp eyes studying your face and your face only. Your exhaustion, your pain, were evident, and you blinked tiredly at him, unable to summon a reply. With a sigh, he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Then, with a small flick of his wrist, a warm glow began to radiate from his gloved hands. His magic was subtle at first; the energy sent a soothing warmth through your body, and you tensed for a moment. Slowly, you felt the pain and bruises ease. The ache in your muscles dulled as his power worked its way through you, healing the worst of your injuries. You watched in quiet awe as the bruises on your arms and legs faded, the tension in your body releasing as the pain subsided, though you watched with tired, exhausted eyes.

"There," he said. "That should help."

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Alastor smiled—a small, genuine smile. "You're safe now, my dear. And don't you worry about him, I'll handle it."

Alastor didn’t move from his place by your side, his presence a silent reassurance that you weren’t alone anymore.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe. Safe with him, in his arms, knowing that no harm would come to you as long as he was near. You knew in that moment your boyfriend was probably going to see the light, but that didn't matter you were just grateful for Alastor's presence.

[hiemaldesirae]

The Hazbin Graduate's Guide to Homicide (2)

Student Report: Alastor Hartfelt Supervising Staff: Vice-Dean Lilith Morningstar Sponsor: [REDACTED] To the esteemed and generous sponsor of one Mister Alastor Hartfelt, The following enclosed letter is a partial recount of Mister Alastor's first week during his term here at our esteemed institution. Please dispose of this report as soon as you are finished reading it for privacy insurance. We at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practictioners thank you for your continued interest and patronage. Sincerely, Vice-Dean Lilith Morningstar.

(Enclosed is also a photo of your charge with our current star student, Vox Vanhal. Please note that Mr. Vanhal's file is not yet open for your private purposes, but Dean Lucifer is working on it.)

[more murder academy radiostatic content] <- read the first for context! ^^

"Does this radio only have one station?" Alastor frowns at the contraption.

Having arrived at Pride House late into the semester (according to Dean Morningstar, anyway- he hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, so he doesn't see why he should be given the blame), Alastor had been stiffly informed by the receptionist- one Mrs. Mayberry- that he would have to be sharing a joint bathroom with a young woman named Charlie as a result of no other rooms being available. He'd been tempted to ask about the peculiar young man who he'd met that afternoon and how he'd assumed they might be roommates, but after one sour look from the receptionist that reminded him far too much of his late grandmother, he'd simply kept his mouth shut and taken the key.

The room he was assigned honestly wasn't half bad, if he could push out the questioning in his hindbrain of why he was given a room with a bathroom to share with someone of the fairer sex. Light from the setting sun streamed in from the open curtains, and through the window, an elevated view of the small Dutch-themed town square was easy to see. If Alastor squinted, he could see the glittering waters of the oddly named Lake Pandemonium, and past that, a thick covering of colourful flowering trees he had never once seen before in his life.

The room itself reminds Alastor a little of hotel rooms: somewhat sterile in its professionalism, and altogether unattached from any sense of home. Though he supposes it's better this way: he would rather a completely sterile and unlived in room than one bearing marks of another's absence.

Anyway. Back to the radio.

Alastor fiddles with the knobs a little, but still, the tunes of the blues persist on, with not even the slightest bit of variety.

It was ironic now, thinking of how he used to dance to songs just like these in Mimzy's company, and now he was complaining for no reason. He'd expected much less kind treatment when he'd been brought to Hazbin, after all, but after not even a day of staying here, it seemed to him that their service alongside their accomodations had been top notch. Excluding the presence of the Dean, Alastor found himself thinking that he may even end up liking this place.

That line of thought would soon be tested the very next morning, when Alastor made his way out of his rooming quarters and down to the building that housed the institution's dining hall.

Though the dean had been careful to point it out to him during the tour, he hadn't realized just the sheer size of the place: its high-sloped ceilings and massive polished columns of oak wood and obsidian enlays made for a stunning, if intimidating layout.

"Ah, Mister Hartfelt- Alastor, right?"

A voice catches his attention and before he even turns, Alastor knows who the soft hand on his shoulder is from. Lo and behold, the man with the mismatched eyes offers him a smile, one that Alastor returns after a beat of silence.

"Since you're new, do you want to come sit with me?"

"I don't see why not," Alastor responds simply. There's no harm in it, exactly- he's not quite sure what exactly he's supposed to be doing at mealtimes (see once more: coming in to the start of the term 'late') and, besides. He's been curious about the man with the gemstone eyes since they met the day prior, so the chance to sit and eat with him... well, it was quite the unexpected boon.

"Right, you'll have to get a plate for yourself, but you can always just take one from someone who hasn't woken up yet," Vox says as they make their way to the table where he was sitting. "Just be careful that the one you're taking isn't from someone really protective of their property."

"Why not?"

"They've probably already laced the plates with some kind of poison." Vox shrugs. "Most have antidotes on hand for that kind of thing, but only for their own poisons. So we try not to get the plates mixed up."

"Ah," Alastor says succinctly. "My apologies, remind me how long you've been here for again?"

"Two weeks," Vox says. He laughs a little at the face that Alastor makes, "I mean, well, you tend to learn these kinds of things pretty quick. If not cause of the upperclassman, usually staff are around to tell you what not to do... and if they're not there either, there's always the medical personnel who can help you after you've done the deed and gone belly up, so to say."

"I'm quite sure I'd rather not have to resort to said medical personnel, but to each their own," Alastor says.

This gets a laugh from Vox again, one that provokes that deep sort of familiarity inside of Alastor, and once again he asks himself where do I know this man from? It was certainly never from any radio program he'd ever heard, but he couldn't quite rule out the possibility of it being from a foreign program either, given the soft influence of german notes in the other man's speech.

He's drawn out of his thoughts when Vox pushes a plate towards him, already laden with food. "Here. Snatched this one from my former roommate a week back and he never questioned it. Guy didn't even show up to breakfast half the time."

Alastor takes it without asking any further questions, though he does look at the meal to check for any sort of poisons he should watch for. Not that he has enough faith in Vox to think that the other would be able to murder him, but, this was a school for murder, and in the current moment, he was outclassed (even if it wasn't by much.) However, there was a question he wanted to ask unrelated to the food.

"Former roommate?"

"Mm, he graduated- well, went to complete his thesis, which is basically the same thing but shorter because if you don't complete your thesis you may as well say your goodbyes- and that was three days before you arrived," Vox clarifies. "Or, well. I s'pose I shouldn't say that. I'm pretty sure he graduated. The guy was an upperclassman, and the terms here are pretty unpredictable- there's no limits on the time you spend here unless your funds are limited, and he was definitely not one of the people who have to scrape their savings together to afford a single year here. I didn't know anything about his academic career though, so it's definitely a possibility he didn't graduate."

"If he didn't graduate, then-"

"If he didn't graduate then he's dead, simple as pie," Vox clarifies once more. Alastor squints his eyes at the other man, who huffs and bites into his toast before saying anything else. "Well, hey, I mean I know I don't seem like the best roommate right now, but look, all right, I'm not gonna be looking into the disappearance of the guy who kept wrecking my bathroom setup for two weeks! Besides, when Dean Morningstar introduced you the other day, I thought that we'd be rooming together- especially since I already had the vacancy, and it'd make sense to just, you know, lump us together, right? Since I've got the room, and you need it?"

"Yes, it'd seem that way," Alastor says. He picks at his own food for a moment longer, debating between telling Vox of his actual room arrangements and keeping his mouth shut before deciding that whatever information he could get out of the man would be worth the potential embarrassment and questioning. "But instead, I was assigned to share a room with a woman."

Vox spits out his food onto the table, hacking and coughing as Alastor reaches over the table and pats him on the back firmly, shaking his head when some other members start making their ways towards him. "You- they made you room with a woman? What?"

"Well, it's certainly not as bad as you're making it sound-"

"I mean, sharing a bathroom, whatever, I know how rooming works in the Pride House so, all right, not that bad considering you'd have the double locked doors and as long as neither of you forget to lock the doors everything's all right, but, seriously, what?" Vox sounds puzzled, almost as if he himself can't work out what the staff are getting at, and in fairness, Alastor himself can't really puzzle it out himself. "Couldn't you file like, a report against that or something?"

"I'm here on a sponsorship," Alastor reminds the other man, who seems to shrink back into his chair at the reminder that he hadn't been the one to put himself into this facility. "I'd rather not risk their ire, if only for the sake of my sponsor."

That was a lie, of course. The truth was, as amiable and sociable as the man before him was- and as much as Alastor had a personal sort of curiosity towards him, he still didn't wish to room beside a man, even if it was Vox specifically who he was sharing a bathroom with.

Whatever it was that the Dean and whoever had arranged their rooms had been planning, Alastor felt free to turn a blind eye to the proceedings, at least until it affected him negatively.

"Makes sense," Vox says after a beat of silence. "Well... even if we aren't roommates, are you up to being friends, perhaps?"

"Sure," Alastor says. The other man's face brightens, and with it, his eyes too, sparkling like the gemstones he'd been silently comparing them to. "As long as you don't kill me."

"Hey, I wouldn't do that," Vox rolls his eyes. "If you wanna meet someone who'll kill you after becoming friends then you can go ahead and talk to Miss Rosetta Levi. She's taking... Mariticide as a major if I remember correctly? Oh, don't call her Rosetta, though, I hear she prefers Rosie."

"I'll keep her in mind, dear pal," Alastor chuckles. With that, he begins to once more dig into his breakfast, before a final question occurs to him. "Oh, right. I wanted to ask- if it's not too personal- what is it that you're here for?"

"Huh?" Vox blinks at him, spoonful of food raised to his mouth as he waits for Alastor to clarify.

"Your target. Because there's one for everyone here, right?" Alastor says simply. "They make you write it on the application, don't they? Whether it's your mother, your father, the organization who wronged you..."

The other man sets the spoon down gently before grabbing his glass of orange juice and taking a swig of it like a day drinker. "They do."

Alastor waits for a moment, but there's nothing else. "Well, all right then. I'm not quite sure what mine was listed as when the application from my sponsor came in- the Dean refuses to let me see more than I absolutely have to when it comes to my own paperwork- but I'm quite certain my father's name is on the list there somewhere."

He's not saying all this solely in an attempt to get Vox to open up, though that is part of it. Still, it's nice to let someone know of his own things (if only because he's a bit of a fiend for attention). "Anyway, it's all right if you don't want to say. I figure it's personal."

"It is," Vox says simply before he sighs. "Sorry. It's... well, it's a bit of a touchy subject for me. Not exactly something I'd like to spill at breakfast twenty-four hours after our first meeting."

"I understand," Alastor responds, though in his head he's already beating himself over the head for his lack of tact and how much he'd said. "I'm sure not many would."

"Eh," Vox waves his hand. The easy flow of conversation has returned now, as Vox continues, "I met a guy my first week here called Arackniss and he proceeded to tell me every single gory detail about how he planned to do away with his stepfather for the sake of his cartel's future. Lot more mob people than I'd expected."

"It's because of Prohibition." Alastor says absentmindedly, not expecting anything to come of his throwaway comment. Then he looks over at Vox, who's staring at him.

"You're that old?"

"What?" Alastor squinted. "The year is 1948, right? I'm not crazy? I'm 32, this isn't-"

"You're- no, sorry, I-" Vox laughs, hand flying up to his mouth to cover it. "Sorry, I just- you look so young."

"I am young," Alastor says. He sighs even as Vox continues laughing, pressing a hand to his temple to quell the coming headache.

"Sorry! Sorry. Different age standards, you know. It's a Hollywood thing," Vox smiles, mirth twinkling in his eyes, and suddenly, Alastor knows where he recognizes the other from.

"You-"

At that moment, a loud ringing echoes through the halls nine times.

"Ah, that'll be the morning bell. I've got Aesthetics and Disguise with Professor Asmodeus next," Vox says. He scarfs down the remaining food on his plate in record time and gets up, readjusting the uniform shirt and jacket he wears before grinning at Alastor. "I'll see you at lunch, then!"

"Right. I'll see you there."

[redfoxwritesstuff]

HI

umm smut request incoming…

Vox x alastor’s sister! Reader

Vox railing her and sending a video of something to Alastor (just like maybe a sound bite of her moans or sum) to piss him off… or…

Fucking on a live broadcast because he’s Vox and he if he thinks he can he will (I think he would censor most of it on live tv for the sake of he still technically wants to be the only who gets to see reader naked)

Either way the goal is to absolutely ruin Alastor’s sister to piss Alastor off

No rush…

I live for your writing

I love the way you write Vox…

-🐝anon

Hello, dearheart bumblebee-

Ask and you shall receive, I dearly hope you like it.

Vox x Alastor!Sister!Reader Rating: Adults only Content warnings: Potential age dynamics and power imbalance, dubious content, broadcast of sexual time without reader's consent, smut, putting way too much faith in a glass desk Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

The polished perfection of the tech district gleamed and sparkled around you as your simple low heels clicked against the clean pavement. Everything about the district was maintained perfectly, making it easy to forget you were in Hell as long as you didn’t look at the residents too long. 

You had been young when you died and when your elder brother joined you in Hell not too many years later, he had resumed his task of protecting you. It had been suffocating, as much so in death as it had been in life. 

Tonight, you were determined to break free from that suffocation. If you were lucky you’d pull it off without him noticing you’d strayed away from his approved districts while he was busy with his little hotel project. It had drawn his attention away from you for a while now and while you had always been an obedient young woman, you craved more. 

Music pounded the air as you approached a long line for a club. You’d never been in a proper club. At best, you were allowed to attend lounges and bars similar to what had been popular in the time of your life but after being dead for far longer than you had lived, you wanted to live just a little. 

What harm could it do? It’s not like Alastor would find out, he almost never came by the house lately anyway. 

Standing in the line was boring. It felt like it was never moving. You were convinced it would be morning before you got inside the stupid club. With your luck, come the brighter light of morning, while you still stood in this cursed line, Alastor would return home for the first time in almost a week to find you missing. 

You contemplated leaving as your tall ears flattened against your head. All you wanted was one night to act like a normal 22 (plus a few decades after death) year old living in the modern world and not the little early 1900s relic you spent most of your life being. 

Excitement erupted as a fancy black car pulled up just ahead of you in the line. The driver got out, wearing a dark blue pressed suit and held open the back door of the car. 

A man, tall with broad shoulders stepped out of the club as people excitedly tried to get his attention. His head was a flat screen, digitized face smiling wide as he seemed to soak up the attention. 

You leaned out of the line as you tried to get a better view of the man everyone was so excited to see. Whoever he was, he was attractive in a way you couldn’t really explain. His head was weird but the smile was charming and confident in a way that drew you in. 

His eyes scanned the crowd as he walked down the line, speaking to people here or there. Women and men alike swooned for the chance to take a picture with him. He was, without a doubt, a big deal. 

Did he know your brother? Would this man recognize your relation if he saw you? You shared many features with your brother, though you lacked the ever present smile and red hair. You had tried to obscure the relationship, donning black and browns rather than the red that dominated your wardrobe. 

“What do we have here?” 

Your ears flicked up and forward as you realized how close the man had gotten while you were lost in your thoughts. A started squeak slipped out of your mouth as you flinched back from his screen. 

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing,” He said as if it was the highest compliment, “what brings you out here?” 

“I wanted to go out?” You weren’t sure what to say, not knowing what he knew or who he was. 

“How’s that going for you?” He made a show of looking up the long line still to the door. “Been here long?” 

“A while,” You admitted, “I may just end up leaving, it’s getting late.”

“Splendid!” He clapped his hands together as he lifted the rope between him and the line you stood in. “What would you say if I told you I could take you somewhere better to get a few drinks and music?” 

“Like where?” You asked as you ducked under the rope before hesitating in front of him.

“Vee Tower.” He cocked his thumb to the tower that dominated the district. “We’ve got a bar in there.” 

“I- I don’t know who you are. Maybe I should pass,” 

“You really aren’t from around here, are you?” The man laughed, holding his hand out for you in invitation. “The name is Vox.” 

“You’re an overlord.” You stepped away, regretting leaving the safety of Alastor’s territories. You’d heard his name in passing as your brother talked on about the overlord meetings but knew little else about the man. 

“Yep,” He popped the p as he rose his digital eyebrow. “And you look a lot like another overlord. Enough that I wouldn’t feel right leaving you on the streets. Couldn’t let anything bad happen to someone who may be important to my peer, now can I?” 

“Your a friend of-”

“I am indeed!” Vox took your hand in his as soon as you made the slightest motion to take his hand. “You want to have a good time out in the tech district, don’t you?” 

He lead you toward the waiting car, shooing away the driver and pushing the back passenger door closed with his hip. He opened the front passenger door and all but shoved you in the car. 

Getting into the driver’s seat, he had the car in motion before you could even question how the driver was going to get back. 

“So, doll- what are you looking to get out of your trip to the modern age?” He turned his head, allowing his eyes to flick between you and the road. 

“I just wanted to have a good time. Get out from under my brother’s thumb for a bit,” You twisted the skirt of your dress in your hands. If Vox was a friend of Alastor’s you could surely trust him, though you couldn’t imagine him being friends with a tech overlord. 

“Ol Al smothering you?” Vox laughed as if he was in on some joke with you. He was a charming man and you found yourself smiling with him, relaxing into the seat as he made light hearted conversation. 

Before you knew it, you had a drink in your hand in Vox’s personal penthouse as he showed off tech to you, leaning over your shoulder as he crowded your space. You found yourself drawn to the warmth of him. 

When you leaned your back into his chest, you didn’t know but when you looked back on this night, you would identify that as the trigger for everything that would come next. 

His body was firm against your back and his breath, somehow coming from his screen ruffled your hair over your shoulder. His hand fell to your waist with a squeeze. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the prototype device in his hand to flop on a couch in his home office. 

Clawed hand pulled your head, forcing you to look over your shoulder as his bright screen burned into your eyes. You closed your eyes to protect them only to feel his screen against your face. It quickly shifted, smooth surface giving way to lips as he kissed you.

It was strange and electrifying. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had kissed you. Being who you were and your brother’s reputation, few would even consider braving the Radio Demon’s wrath. 

You hadn’t realized how starved for romantic attention you were until his lips were on you. His mouth tasted like the air smelled ahead of a lighting storm, though you never would have thought of that as a taste before. 

You turned in his arms, resting your hands on his chest as your heart thundered in your chest. Strong hands dug into your waist as he walked you back until you bumped into his desk. 

He lifted you as if you weighed nothing, setting you on the edge of the smooth glass surface, trusting it to hold your weight. His tongue wormed into your mouth and you moaned at the feel of him. Your mind swam as alcohol and endorphins mixed, giving you a natural high that had you clinging to his chest. 

Vox tore his hands from your waist, grabbing your knees and forcing them further apart so that he could slot his body tight between your thighs. Blush burned your skin as you felt his hands run up your legs, pushing your skirt higher as he made his way back to your hips.

Could he see your blush in the dim light?

He pulled you to him by your hips, slotting his crotch tightly against yours as his tongue licked down your neck, leaving a trail of light static shocks in the process that had you gasping for air. 

You could feel his hardness against you, throbbing strong enough that you could feel it through his pants and your soaked panties. 

“Vox,” You needed him, gasping his name as he ground his hips into you. 

“Do you want me?” Vox asked, smirk plastered on his face. “Say you want me.” 

“I want you,” You answered as Vox sank to his knees. 

“Can I taste you?” His hands ran up and down your legs as he knelt in front of you. Static shocks ran over your skin, leaving goosebumps under his hands. 

“I’ve never-” It wasn’t really done in your limited experience in life and in death, you didn’t have much time to find your feet, all things considered, to feel safe enough to explore before your brother’s overbearing presence suffocated any chance you had to explore. 

“The first to do this for you?” He asked, eyes wide and earnest, not matching the sly smirk on his face in the slightest. His eyes, you realized, often gave him away. “Let me, please?” 

“Okay.”

Your breath caught and stuttered in your lungs as he slipped his claws under your panties and ripped them from you, leaving them in tatters as they fell to the ground. Strong hands ran up and down your inner thighs, spreading your legs further apart with each pass.

“Lean back,” He demanded, “Let me see you.”

You did as he asked, leaning back and supporting your weight on the palms of your hands. It took a few tries to find somewhere to put your hands that didn’t have papers or bits of tech. 

“Oh,” You gasped as a finger ran up your slit, touch so soft that it only caressed your part without delving inside your folds at all.

“So wet for me already.” 

You were far from prepared for the feeling of Vox’s mouth on you. Strong hands pulled your thighs apart, spreading your folds as he ran his long electric tongue up your slit. Static danced on your nerves as his long tongue slipped over your clit only to pull back and circle it. 

He pulled the nub into his mouth. Your brain struggled comprehend how any of this was possible when he had a flat screen for a face but as his long finger slipped into your entrance, you didn’t care. 

You moaned as he sucked harshly on your clit, running his tongue over the captured bundle of nerves as he pumped the single finger inside you until you were panting. A coil felt ready to break inside you and just when it felt like it would be too much, he pulled away.

“Why did you stop?” You asked as your breathing calmed.

Instead of answering, he leaned in and ran his tongue over your folds repeatedly. As soon as her breath was coming fast again, he entered her once again. Instead of his finger however, it was his long electrified tongue that wiggled itself into her. He slurped her slick from the source as he probed, static sending stimulation over everything he touched until she clenched around him. 

He moaned as she spasmed around his tongue, clenching the soft electric muscle. Slick poured into his eager mouth as he palmed himself through his pants to the music of your gasps. 

“Did you like that?” Vox asked as he climbed to his feet. 

“Yeah,” your arms felt weak as you struggled to support your upper body.

“Tell me how much,” Vox demanded as he worked his belt open.

“It felt so good,” You said, mind spinning as you watched him pull his belt from his pants, clattering to the ground as you babbled praise. “Your mouth felt so good on me. Your tongue,” 

Vox freed himself from his pants and you were left mesmerized by his cock. Dark skin covered his considerable size as glowing veins traced their way around his length. 

“You think that was good, just wait.”

He ran the head of his cock up and down your slit, gathering ample wetness as he leaned over you, working open the buttons on your blouse. You had no bra on under, leaving you fully exposed as he pulled your shirt open. 

“Who would have thought,” Vox loomed over you, hungry eyes roaming over your chest, taking in the swell of your breasts and how they moved with each gasping breath you took. “That that old timey prick had such a darling sister hidden away.” 

Fear flared in your mind at the way Vox spoke of your brother, not using the tone or words you’d have expected from someone who was a friend but before you could think too much on it, he was sliding inside. 

You were tight and tense as his cock breached your entrance but your copious slick ensured that your tense body did nothing to stop him. Inching in, he pushed your fluttering walls aside slowly as he filled you. When he stilled, you could feel the firm bones of his hips against you while the head of his cock kissed your cervix. 

“Fuck, doll.” He leaned over you, shoving the items on his desk to the floor without a care as be braced himself against the desk, ensuring you were boxed in, speared and with no where to go. “You’re so tight. Squeezing me like it’ll save you. His best kept secret, huh?”

You tried to get your feet in front of him, tried to find purchase to push him back so you could breath but his chest was solid and firm under your hand. It was like pushing against a wall. Your feet found no way to catch any part of him to push against, your attempts only causing you to wiggle and nudge the cock buried deep inside you. 

“Don’t worry, Doll- I’m not going to hurt you.” Vox promised, dark smile on his digital face. “I’m going to show you what you’re missing out on. Remember how good you said I made you feel? I’m going to make you feel so much better.” 

You clenched your jaw as he pulled back, heavy length pulling from your cunt in a wet drag until his tip, glowing slightly with the flush of his strange blood as it nestled just inside you.

“You look so good like this, spread out on my desk, little doe tail mashed against the glass and my cock spreading you.”

His hips snapped forward and you couldn’t contain the moan as the force jostled your body on the desk. Pulling back, he admired the way your ears sat atop your head, cocked to the side and limp, face slack and eyes drooping as you looked up at him. 

If he couldn’t have Alastor, he would have you. If he couldn’t have Alastor, he would ruin you. If Alastor wouldn’t want him, he would ensure you craved him. 

Another snap of his hips had a deeper moan pour from your pretty parted lips. This was wrong, you knew that now. He wasn’t a friend. You should have listened to your brother. You should have never left the safety of his territory. 

But it was hard to keep telling yourself that as Vox’s cock kissed your cervix with every thrust forward. The words that fell from his lips, hot promises and dark praises had you wanting more. 

Your slick poured out of you with every pull back of Vox’s heavy cock, you could feel more of your slick smear around your folds and hips, dripping down you and wetting the fur of your tail. 

You arched on the glass desk as Vox leaned forward, static tongue reaching out to twist and slither over your nipple, sending shocks through your blood and down your core. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, reaching out for his arms to somehow ground yourself as his lips enveloped your nipple, teeth grazing over the sensitive pebble. 

“Who’s making you feel good?” Vox asked as he pulled away, “Who’s cock are you taking so well?”

“Vox,” you gripped his arm in one hand, reaching out and running your palm over his clothed chest as he moved above you, “Vox, please?”

“What do you need, Doll?”

Your body was rocking with each hard thrust, breasts bouncing with each jostle. He grabbed your hips as he straightened, pulling you harshly to hin with each thrust, making your breathy moans up in pitch as he hit something deep inside of you just right. 

“Please,” You repeated, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

“What do you like?” He questioned, leaning over you for a moment to kiss you hotly, tongue sweeping into your mouth as things shifted and moved on his desk. Electricity ran over your skin as his power flared but you couldn’t make yourself care. “Want to hear your voice.” 

“Your cock,” You gasped as he pulled back, a strand of saliva stretching between your lip and where his screen gave way to his lips. You gasped as he shifted you, angling your hips so that his cock pressed tighter against the soft front of your walls. “Feels so good.” 

He supported your hips with a hand under you, fingers wrapped around the little tail, underside sticky with spilled slick. It wasn’t comfortable but you were too distracted by the way he gripped your tail to care about the pressure. His other hand pressed on your lower belly, making the head of his cock hit the spongy bundle of nerves harder with each violent trust. 

“Fuck, so good.” he said, leaning forward again and supporting his weight on palm placed by your arm as you tightened around him. “Fuck babydoll, so tight. Going to ruin you. Going to mark you inside and out.”

“Please,” You whined, hooking your legs around his back as his pubic bone crashed and rubbed against your clit with every thrust, “So close. Don’t stop. Please,” 

“Who’s cock are you going to cum on?” His arm gave out, causing him to crash down on a elbow. A shimmering crack spidered out from where his elbow crashed into the glass surface. “Who’s cum are you going to take?”

“Vox,” You clenched around him, walls fluttering as you held onto him with arms and legs and core, wanting to pull him closer still, “Vox, I’m going to-” 

“Ffffuuck,” He moaned deeply as his cock, nestled right against your cervix twitched. His hips rocked as he spilled his load deep inside your twitching walls. Your hips rocked as you humped into him, urging his cock to twitch and spurt as your climax faded, leaving you twitching, gasping, full and satisfied. 

“You did so good for me,” Vox said as he caressed your face with a clawed hand. “Put on a hell of a show.” 

“What?” The word was slurred as you leaned into his touch, spent and body aching from the force of your orgasms. 

“Did you have a good night out?” Vox asked instead of answering your question. You groaned as his softening cock twitched, still slotted deep inside you. 

“So good,” you praised, wrapping your fingers around his forearm as you basked in the afterglow. “Felt so good. Worth sneaking out.” 

“Good,” Vox said, withdrawing from you and tugging your skirt down and packing his cock back into his pants. There was no avoiding the way your slick had marked up the front of his pants but he would deal with that later. 

“Vox, I-” You sat up, buttoning your top as you watched the attractive man straighten himself up. 

“A car is waiting for you. Your brother is looking for you. Better scurry back to the middle ages, Doll.” Vox glanced down at his phone before looking at your wide brown eyes. So innocent and soft where your brother was dark and sharp. 

“Will I see you again?” You asked, hopeful. 

“Maybe,” Vox teased, running his clawed hand over your tall ears that looked so much like his, “If your brother ever lets you out of his sight again.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that as he ushered you out of his home. He hadn’t even given you a chance to clean up. With each step you took, you could feel your slick between your legs and the way his seed seeped from your stretched core. 

On the other side of the pentagram, Alastor thrashed through his broadcasting tower. Angel’s phone was shattered against the wall, screen dark. It didn’t matter, every time he closed his eyes he could still see it. 

The way your face looked, his sweet sister contorted in pleasure granted by that disgusting, flat faced, trend chasing buffoon. Alastor had no doubt that Vox had used you to get to him.

Vox didn’t care for you, not that Alastor wanted him to. What he dreaded though was your realization that your lover’s tryst was broadcast throughout Hell. All of Hell could have watched Vox claim the hardly seen sister of the Radio Demon. All of Hell could have heard the Tech overlord’s name fall from the one person closest to Alastor.

All of Hell saw Vox take what Alastor was responsible for protecting. 

“You’ll regret this, Old Pal.” Alastor promised as he sank into shadows to find out where you had been dropped off. 

[silverinkbottle]

Chapter 2:Titles and Tribulations

Summary: Sometimes moments are only fleeting. But the memories of them last forever.

A/N: Thanks for all the love on the last chapter! This one is a bit longer so please enjoy!

Chapter 1 Linked Below

Chapter 1: Oh, You

-> Chapter 3: Shopping Around

Titles and Tribulations

Well, the hotel seemed to be structurally sound as you peered up at the gleaming windows. A far cry from the pile of rubble that once cluttered the ground. Sighing under your breath, you raised your fist to rap on the gleaming wooden surface of the double doors. Your stoic expression shifted into surprise as your knock met bare air instead of solid wood. Followed by a piercing squeal of excitement as you found yourself dragged into the inside by hand first, feebly looking behind at the paperboys who ‘shared’ a shrug before running after you.

“Welcome to the brand NEW, Hazbin Hotel. We are so HAPPY to have our first NEW guest after our sudden refurbishment. Now as you can see-” 

It was all too easy to tune out the little Princess’s words while making the appropriate nods and hums as you followed her flourished gestures. Charlie Morningstar wasn’t what you expected, but at the same time it was. A strange dichotomy of impossible bubbliness against the rumored fierceness that lurked underneath her smile. Not like you could have gotten an interview with the poor bastards that had gone against her a week ago. 

“Oh, here is the statue of the bestest boy ever Dazzle! He was-”

Extracting your hand from her grip was like trying to scrape off slimy seaweed in the shallows. Yet, somehow you managed as you forced a polite smile on your face that seemed to dim in the brilliance of Charlie’s smile. 

“Lovely scenery, Miss Morningstar, but I am not-”

Another squeak of joy interrupted your speech as Charlies was peering around your skirts. To the huddled forms of the paperboys, their ears flat against their heads as if they could sense something about the Hellborne Princess. 

“Aren’t they adorable, these your kids- Look at their little buttons and vests. Just so-. Are..you alright?”

Her first question sent you into a coughing fit as you hastily waved off her concerns. Eyes watering as you managed the word ‘No’. It was impossible to protest as you found yourself ushered towards the bar and its’ equally grouchy but polished looking bartender.

“What can I get you? Aside from Charlie off your back, can’t help you there..”

“Gin. Tonic. Don’t you touch that.” Your last words were sent as a low hiss catching sight of a floppy ear peering around the bar front. Its paws trembling in excitement as the glass gin decanter glimmered in the lighting. 

“A little booze never hurt no one. Trust me, toots.” The other bar patron waggled his fingers at you. Angel Dust, wasn’t it? He was all but baiting the souls as he dangled a shot glass above their smaller forms.  The spider demon let out a yelp as small black holes materialized on their masks, eagerly drinking down the meager offer of liquor.

“Watch your pockets.” You retorted as you took another deep drink of your glass. Fingers tapping on the marble countertop as a timer. A telltale yelp came from their victim followed by the pair scurrying off their prize secured in their paws.

“Little bastards pickpocketed me,both of em. I must be loos’en my touch to not feel that.” Angel whined as you laughed into your glass. It made a hollow sound all too soon as there was a clink of ice. He was quick to scurry after them feebly chasing after the thieves. It was like trying to grab a shadow as the paperboys materialized their own ‘holes’ to hop in and out of utilizing the inner spaces of Purgatory. 

“I warned you. Can’t even give them pocket lint, any items bind them further to this reality. Makes them little kelptos. Can’t tell you how many pens I have lost from that unfortunate hab-” 

“FUCK.” Angel let out a yelp as he pulled back one of his arms, now bearing a fresh bite mark as he daringly stuck in hand in one of the tiny portals. Curious. He was far too curious as you withdrew your little black book from your pocket to add to your notes. It seemed to be a running theme of eavesdroppers as you sighed before lowering the book to allow Charlie a better look at it. At least she was too polite to rip it from your grasp.

“Angel Dust. Porn Star. Mafia ties? Power-” Charlie flushed over the word before sheepishly passing the book back over. 

“So, a little black book of secrets is it? Been a while since I have seen one of those.” Husker rasped before holding out his paw to flick through the book. His eyes widened as he too quickly passed over the book. 

“Are you some kinda journalist?” Husk growled with an edge of suspicion as you gave a wry smile. Something like that he was close enough. While Charlie, an apparent optimist clapped her hands together before once again taking your hands in her clutches. 

“Maybe you can do a piece of the hotel. For its grand reopening. Oh, oh, we can start with the introduction of the new parlor room. We even installed new stained glass windows that really make the ambiance pop. Oh, please say yes, it would be a perfect-”  

“Perfect time for her to leave. You mean, right darling Charlie?” Alastor’s less than pleased tone boomed over the room as all eyes watched the Radio Demon descend the stairs. Microphone in hand. As if it hadn’t been broken into two pieces like a match last time you saw it. No, this was entirely Alastor’s bravado instead of the mess that you met before.

“Better make me another drink, it seems.” You muttered under your breath as the faintest hint of smirk slid over your lips as Alastor’s gaze flickered from Charlie’s tight grip on your right hand, while your left slid protectively over the little black book on the bar. 

“Hold that thought, Husker.” Alastor snapped as the bartender’s scowl deepened before slamming the decanter of gin back on the bar. 

“Husker do this, Husker don’t do that. I have about had it with-” Husker’s grumbles were ignored by Alastor as he seemed to have grown a faint sliver of patience. An impressive feat if it wasn’t causing your glass to remain empty. Even the ice cubes were melting as you rattled the cool glass.

“Why should she leave? She’s a new guest.” Charlie protested as you chuckled at the thought. You, a Sinner looking for a chance of redemption. Perhaps, you should have tried to write funnies after all. Or perhaps the Princess of Hell had a strange bizarre sense of humor.

“Apologies Princess, I am afraid you have gotten the wrong impression of me.” You explained gently pulling your hand from hers as you tried to find the right words about the entire affair. It wasn’t like you had planned to move into the hotel to stir up the pot. Far from it.

“FOR THE LAST TIME I AM NOT YOUR SECRETARY. YOU CAN’T EXPECT ME TO WRITE DOWN YOUR THOUGHTS FROM LAST WEEK AND REMIND YOU OF THEM. CHARLIE, I CAN’T- A shrill rant was punctured by the ruffle of wings as a gray streak quickly took refuge behind the princess. Wings? A quick flicker through your notes as you could feel Alastor’s gaze burning into your hands with each whisper of the paper.

“Please don’t worry, Vaggie. I have a solution to your concerns.” You muttered as you slipped the book back into your pocket. 

“Charlie, sweetheart, please tell your girlfriend, a genius like me needs-”

“Every thought dictated back to him like a parrot. Yes, I know that sir. I am afraid I hear your voice in my dreams. Or should I call them nightmares. Who knows what sort of information you stuffed into that poor girl’s head.” You chirped lightly as you swept your way past Alastor. As if he was a mere tree amongst the woods. Dropping into the smallest of curtsy as Luicfer clapped in his hands together in an all too familiar gesture. Like father like daughter, you soon found yourself caught in his grip, a familiar hand around your waist as he ushered you back to the group.

A shell-shocked, wide eyed group as all you could manage was an almost shy wave as Lucifer began to sing your praises without a hint of awareness. 

“Everyone, may I present the newest staff member of the hotel. Well, my personal staff member. My ever diligent, steadfast and almost too prompt Secretary. It’s been my request that she take up quarters here.”

“Well, it was said work is a new kind of Hell. At least it will be a stylish one.” You deadpanned weakly as a burst of laughter broke the tension in the air. Your tail flicked angrily as Alastor wiped a tear from his eye as he managed to speak through his laughter.

“You. A Secretary. For HIM. You must be-”

Anger seized your heart as your tail thrashed about, your ears flat as venom dripped in your next words. 

“Fuck you. I wasn’t aware I needed my ex-husband’s permission to do my job. One that I am quite exceptional at.”

“HUSBAND?” A chorus of voices rang through the silent foyer as Husker let out a low whistle before thoughtfully pouring the gin into your abandoned glass. The alcohol’s blissful coolness did little to dampen your temper as another word left Alastor’s curled lips.

“Till death do us part. I would consider this a technicality.”

“Oh don’t start that-” Husker protested as you grabbed the almost empty decanter, hurling it at the infuriating radio demon. His words fatigued like this wasn’t the first spat between lovers he had witnessed behind the bar. The glass smashed against the far wall as Alastor easily stepped out of the weapon’s range. His smug expression didn’t last long as he stumbled out of the way a sudden switch blade aimed for his gut. A single furry arm reaching out furiously swinging as another portal aimed for his knees. Draining your glass with a single long drink, you were quick to join the fray. The weapon of choice is a feathered quill, its sharp dripping crimson as Alastor fell into step with your challenge. A macabre dance of sorts as Alastor dipped into a mocking bow, ears tucking back to narrowly miss shining glint of metal.

“Fuck you. You broke those vows a LONG time AGO.”You snarled as you could feel anger begin to court something you hadn’t felt in years. Sentiment.  The cool burn of the fucking ring still on your finger, like a vice trapping the flesh of a forgotten life, but would ruin you to amputate. A string tying to a much happier time. At least one with glimpses of the emotion.

Alastor’s hand caught your wrist with ease as you snarled when he removed the silken glove from your left hand, revealing the accursed piece of brass. A cheap little thing, but it once meant the world to some stupid woman. Alastor’s eyes widened for the briefest second as if he hadn’t thought that his mocking words from earlier held any weight. Or was it because he hadn’t expected your free hand to strike him across the face.

“I didn’t ASK your PERMISSION. I DON’T FUCKING NEED IT. I NEVER DID.” Your voice was a low hiss now as your hand drifted to your throat. Black ink was slowly spreading across the crisp collar in a slow haze as splotches seeped through here and there on your dress. Ink oozed across the floor like a slow haze as Angel hastily scurried up onto the couch away from the ooze. The slippery forms of hands reached out from the ooze like a drowning man trying to breach the surface, their stained hands gripping your ankles. Alastor kicked at far more hostile hands, their passive grasp turning into sharp claws eager to sink into flesh.

“So. You made some new associates, kit. As did I”

“ALASTOR, ENOUGH.” Charlie’s voice broke through the haze of violence as you bit back your retort under Lucifer’s cool glare. The ink dissipated, but the trembling of your form didn’t. Control was something you always lacked when your temper sparked. It was your fatal flaw, it made you reckless. It scorched you from the inside out as your hands curled around yourself protectively, fighting the urge to gag as if each breath provoked another splattering of ink from the depths of your throat. 

“Breathe.” Lucifer muttered as he offered you a spare handkerchief. It was almost a shame to see the dark liquid greedily seep into the silk cloth like a drunk to drink. Angel was quick to pull up alongside you with a waste basket as you retched further ink into the bin.

“Had enough experience with the gutter to know the “oh fuck I am gonna hurl face”. Angel teased as you glared up at him. Managing only the faintest laugh as Angel winked cheekily at you.

“Well, that wasn’t the worst introduction to the hotel.” Charlie chimed weakly trying to lighten the mood as she stood in front of Alastor. Protecting you from him? Or was it the other way around. Or perhaps it was to spare the risk of another massive clean-up as an excited giggle lit up the room. A maid skittered about the room mop in hand as she invasively wiped a wet cloth over your face before darting off to the next puddle.

“Thank you, Niffty. We would be lost without you.” Lucifer mused as the maid gave a quick salute to the compliment. 

“I mean I did do the stabbing of the nasty big bug” Niffty said in a sing-song voice as you connected the words. This, this was the Sinner that managed to kill the first Man?

“Oh, now I can see why you were so out of sorts.” You sneered as there was that telltale twitch of Alastor’s left eye.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh never again darling.” 

“Well, now that this little reunion is settled. I do hope your files are in order. We have A LOT to cover.” Lucifer announced with a dramatic sigh. It was all false theatrics, you knew likely better than anyone of the renewed passion that had been lit in the King of Hell. The management of the realm itself, to remind the Sinners that he was in charge for a reason. With or without the rumors surrounding his prestige.

“Of course. Sir.” You answered flatly as you snapped your fingers once more. It was like watching a small parade of rabbits as the tiny creatures streamed into the hotel door. Needing little direction as Lucifer’s words began flowing like a river. Your pen dancing over the pages in furious shorthand. Allowing yourself to fall into the intoxicating haze of work into the long hours of the night.

“Now I think it’s time to call it a night. It was quite an eventful day for you.”

The words skittered over the page without a thought as your tired eyes read over them. It wasn’t diction, no, it was the start of a conversation. Lucifer observing you through steepled fingers as you put the finishing punctuation with a loud clack of the keys. Taking extra time to carefully remove the delicate paper from the roller, you wistfully blew over the damp ink. Ignoring the click of Lucifer’s tongue as he knew your procrastination tactics. He couldn’t exactly scold you for being considerate now could he.

“It won’t be a problem. It’s in the-” You began as Lucifer waved you over to the seat in front of his desk.  Now you were feeling like some school girl about to be lectured by the teacher as you slid into the seat with a guarded expression.

“I wouldn’t mind it being a problem. Smug prick could use another reminder of his standing. As powerful as he is, he is still a Sinner. Once human with an apparent speck of a heart that can be rattled it would seem. Especially if you know how to stab at the soft parts.” Lucifer mused with a raised brow.

“Are you asking me to kill Alastor, sir. I wouldn’t be against throttling him in his sleep tonight.” You deadpanned as your fingers twitched at the thought. 

“No. No. A bit of emotional torment is just dessert for me. Besides, I think Charlie would be a bit put out if it came to that. She was already so disappointed with the misunderstanding about a new Guest. Much less I had to talk her down from giving you a rousing speech after your little spat with him.”

You cringed at the imaginary conversation. You could all but see the wide-eyed princess flailing over the dramatics of love and how it’s worth fighting for. Possibly with an extra flair of confetti and trying to ply into a bit of romantic history. An impossible conversational trap that would make flaying feel preferable.

“I appreciate that, sir.” You muttered gratefully as Lucifer chuckled at your pained expression. However, you couldn’t help but feel like this was another trap when the devil’s expression turned from thoughtful to serious.

“I need you here. Charlie needs him here for some inane reason. Don’t push him too far, but don’t let him take advantage of you either. That’s a direct order. Now, off you go, we have plenty of nights to burn the midnight oil on.” Lucifer tutted before turning his chair, his own version of dismissal as you quietly left the study.

Your steps were aimless but seemed impossibly loud in the massive corridors of the hotel. Pale blue lighting drifting through the glass windows. As if it was a true moon outside instead of an endless haze of neon in the Pentagram below.  What would the fireflies look like here? Like some bastardized version of the one’s from Earth, perhaps emitting fire balls instead of a soft glow.  Fireflies dancing over the low tides of some forgotten lake as the early morning fog rolled in soon to be burned away by the rising sun.

“Oh, I know that look. Means it's time for a drink.” A hoarse voice broke you from your thoughts as you sheepishly ducked your head at the knowing words. It was almost embarrassing for Sinners to be caught lost in their memories from before, much to remember them in such vivid details. For many, regardless of age, their memories would come for them in their dreams. Sinners were meant to be punished, dreams ripping apart by the seams into their worst nightmares.  Or callous reminders of their sins amplified by tenfold to send them bolting upright in their beds.

“Afraid that won’t help me much tonight. Today was a bit..excessive” You admitted softly as Husk snorted at your shoddy attempt of downplaying the chaos of the day. The cat demon’s wings ruffled as the pregnant pause filled the space. You could only imagine the questions that were burning to be asked. Ones that you would loath to answer without a bit of sleep.

“So, how did-”

“How many broads do you take on midnight strolls, Whiskers. Hurting my feelings here. I am only a bit late..” 

Your luck may have been changing as Angel’s arrival easily caught Husk’s attention. Or more so, Angel demanded it as he stood behind the shorter demon with a knowing look. A moonlight stroll? You quickly covered your faint laugh with your hand as Husk’s gaze narrowed displeased. 

“A mere accident. Enjoy your night.” You mused as the pair exchanged a quick glance. It seemed they were just as eager to escape the conversation as you were.  The faintest notes of jazz punctured the silence as Husk rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Course, he is still in a prickly mood..” Husk growled 

Alastor and jazz was like watching the aftermath of a storm. Sometimes it was gentle lull ushering away dark clouds and foul weather. Other times it was the preamble to things to come as the restless notes went on into the early hours of the morning. 

“Ah, he’ll get over it if someone puts him-” Angel teased with a wink as you could feel your face begin to burn like a coal over the open fire.

“Have a good night.” Your words cut over the suggestive tone, perhaps too abruptly as the pair's laughter echoed after your footsteps. As if running away from the mere implication wouldn’t let your mind dance over the words. Your nails dug into the skin of your palms as you could almost taste the burn of rye. The ghostly touch on the back of your neck as you ran your hand over your face. As if that would wipe away the memories starting to prickle in the back of your mind. 

“Fuck.” You hissed as you realized your distracted steps had led you even closer to the source of the sound. Like the luring lull of a siren as there was a quiet rumble of a trumpet that sent goosebumps over your skin. All that was missing was the sweet scent of tobacco and low rumble of conversation. You startled backward onto the floor as the door slammed open at the crescendo of the song.

“Well, this is a surprise, do come in.” Alastor muttered as you silently cursed any entity for putting you in this position. Your dress slid up to above your knees, revealing the torn and ripped stockings beneath it as you hastily smoothed it back down. Alastor’s head tilting as he follows your hands up to your murderous expression before smiling that smug infuriating smile. 

“A leopard can’t change its spots. An intriguing idea isn’t it?” Alastor mused as he lazily waved to the free chair next to the fireplace. The nostalgic force barreled through your skull as your nails sank into the soft fabric of the arm rest. Everything about the room did. The pale tone of greens of the wallpaper, its edges fraying with its deceiving quality. The gentle crackle of the fire tinted by the low notes of jazz. Even the curious restless tap of Alastor’s fingers as he waited to hear your retort. 

“It can if the spots are painted on by another..” You huffed as you forced yourself to not fidget under his keen gaze. Like he was wanting to peel you open like a bit of wrapping paper over a shoddy gift. 

“But what sort of paints would the King of Hell use?” 

“Ones that I bought. I refuse to compromise on that.” 

“Well, even paint begins to fade. Funny how that happens.”

“Perhaps I should use ink instead. That continues to stain.”

The words were barbed and pointed as neither side was willing to back down. Did he really think you all but threw yourself at Lucifer’s feet without a second thought? Clinging to the nearest chance to pull yourself out from torment and torture. For the minute of peace in exchange for blistered fingers and reddened palms. 

“I am surprised you can’t see the stain on your hands. Seems like it was all over earlier.” Alastor quipped as you looked down at your hands. Still covered by the linen gloves as if that could conceal the blood on them. The dark sticky residue that once shown crimson, now tainted every single stroke of your pen.

“There are far worse reminders of our mistakes.” You nudged one side of your face, forcing it into a half smile as Alastor blinked once, but said nothing. You weren’t that blind to the fact that he was holding his cards close to the chest. Not willing to let the smallest risk of letting himself slip like he did before in the ruins of the radio station.

“Now let’s not dwell on the past.” Alastor proposed as you snorted at the clear diversion. There was a quick rattle of tea cups and the gentle floral notes of chamomile tea waiting to be poured within a blink of the eye. The hot liquid tasted slightly metallic on your tongue as you queried a brow but said nothing.  The faint chime of the cup hitting the saucer was all too loud in the room.

“You seem..better.” Hesitation in your voice as if cautiously approaching an injured animal. A single slow blink of Alastor’s eyes was a silent warning. Yet you couldn’t help but brooch the topic. 

“I am right as rain, my dear. Why wouldn’t I be?” Alastor hummed as you clicked your tongue in disapproval. Lying, he was lying to you. As if you weren’t the one that stumbled upon his little fit days prior. The obvious injuries inflicted on him by otherworldly forces, the faint twitch in his left arm when your gaze settled on it.

Now it was like falling back into familiar motions as your feet moved on their own accord to kneel next down to his chair. Your fingers diligently undoing the cuffed sleeve with a single snap of a button. Sharp nails curled under your chin forcing your focus from the fabric to Alastor. Less than impressed as you could feel your heartbeat thud a little bit faster from the malevolence of his ridgid form.

“Don’t act like a child.” You snipped as Alastor’s glare could have burnt into your soul. Well, if it still existed as you defiantly rolled up the fabric with a small hiss under your breath. Tendon and viscera was feebly trying to keep itself together by Alastor’s will. If infection ever existed in Hell, it would have to look like this at least it didn’t smell like rot.

“Pleased with yourself?” Alastor snapped coldly before pulling his arm away with a defiant snap of the button cuff. It was a mere glance but he was acting like you had proposed the idea of amputating the limb entirely. Now it was becoming nostalgic as a slow smirk spread across your lips as you leaned down closer to him. Your hands splayed comfortably over the top of the chair. There was a twitch in Alastor’s smile as you could all but see the same memories begin to play out.

“Still stubborn?”

“Always.” Alastor teased as his fingers sprawled over the length of your throat. Feeling your pulse underneath it. He was cheating in this little game of wills as a low hiss curled in your throat as his smile widened daring you to make the next move.

Any and all tension fled the room like a dog with its tail between its legs as the room’s door slammed open. A wide eyed and jittery Lucifer all but barged in without a single hint of volume regulation. A weary looking paperboy skittered after him with a blocky paper in its hand bearing the single word.

‘Sorry.’

“Cancel all my appointments tomorrow and fetch the coffee. I need to-”

Lucifer’s eyes went as a smirk slid over his snake-like features. His expression the picture of innocence as if he didn’t barge into the intimate moment. Hands tucked into his suit pockets as he slammed the final nail in the coffin for any chance of redemption. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Smug, amused notes that made you want to crawl into a hole and be buried alive.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Your answer came first in a rushed hiss as you quickly stood up to grab the troublesome rabbit by its ears as it frantically scribbled on its scrap of paper to explain the situation. That it had attempted to lead away your boss, but he just got this odd look when he heard the jazz. Please watch the ears. The excuses made your grip all the tighter as the little creature squealed in protest as it was thrown out into the hallway. 

While Alastor’s ‘No’ was far less pleased as the Devil was taking insurmountable delight in the situation. He smoothed out the rumpled edge of the sleeve with little ceremony as Lucifer seemed almost impatient for his next words. It was difficult to cover your laughter as the words never came, only the clatter of china and a loud sip of tea. 

“Now, before I fetch that coffee. What is the issue?” You huffed as you snapped your fingers together allowing your quill the float aimlessly around you. Lucifer spun on his heel before grabbing you by the wrist with a bright smile

“I want to redecorate my office. It’s looking a bit..drab. That means measuring, shopping and all the other joys of furnishing. Now let’s hop to it. We only have a few hours till morning, moonlight is wasting away as we speak. Since I wasn’t interrupting anything..” Lucifer declared as he wrapped his arm around your waist, all but ushering you from the room without a single second to spare.

You made sure to burn the coffee and watched with immense pleasure in seeing him choke it down.

[awakentheeldritchabomination]

First off, I wanna say that I mean no disrespect to the artists who worked on Hazbin Hotel. It’s just that I’ve been seeing people make redesigns of Hazbin characters, and though I don’t usually participate in stuff like this (it seems fun, and you are all incredibly talented. I just feel kinda bad tinkering with someone else’s work like this), the show made me frustrated, and frustrated induced brain-vomit started sloshing around in my skull so noisily that it’s been keeping me up. And, well, I had to get it out somehow.

So…here ya go, I guess. It’s nothing crazy or new. It’s just a few disgustingly rough ideas for this very specific version of Charlie that I kept seeing in my head. They’re far from polished or anything, and they’re definitely missing some key details because I’ve been hyper-fixating on trying to get the face right lol. I might make a full body illustration later, but I have commitment issues so who knows how far this’ll go. That is to say, don’t expect any more of this or the other characters unless 1) my brain decides to torment me with more literal demons or 2) I, by some miracle, become a more productive person. Plus, Tumblr’s a new thing for me, and I don’t know what I’m doing with this yet other than posting art and then disappearing for years. Seriously, you have no idea. It’s a wonder that I posted for a second time.

Anyway, the direction of this design is pretty obvious. I went with the lamb/goat motif because I liked the idea of inverted/parallel symbolism. I was toying with a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” concept where they appear to be a lamb in this form but actually shift into a more wolf-like dragon sorta thing when prompted. Their wardrobe is supposed to be an extension of the innocent lamb deception as the ruffles and looseness are meant to be kinda reminiscent of fluff while communicating a sense of privilege (a white untainted by the grit of Hell… something that probably wouldn’t last long). I was also inspired by white goth and catholic goth aesthetics (I blame Ethel Cain) as well as those insanely beautiful ball-jointed dolls. I don’t know if I captured that well (to be honest, the more I look at those digital renditions, the more I hate them). I considered adding a pair of spectacles coz I thought it was cute lol, and because I thought it could be a way for them to try and seem more human.

If I were doing a rewrite (which I have ideas for, but I should probably focus on my actual original characters instead) then:

1. They would be agender and androgynous (I’d go the Good Omens route and make most angels/non-human entities largely genderless as gender is a human construction, one that most angels wouldn’t really concern themselves with)

2. They would be kinda elitist and naive but still sweet

3. Their intentions would not be entirely insincere, but they would not be acting without selfish goals

4. They would be an eldritch abomination

5. There would be possible exploration of their role as an antichrist as well as basically being a tool of war for their papa’s self-gratification

6. Their pops would suck

7. More horror

8. Like, it wouldn’t not be funny…but horror’s my genre so….

9. They would not suck at fighting, but death is traumatizing and so is being the cause of it (squeamish)

10. That being said, could make friends with Death??

And that’s all I feel like writing. Hopefully I update this lol

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Overture ~

A Harmony of Haunted Hearts ~ Bonus Scene ~ 3.1k

Hazbin Hotel/Phantom of the Opera AU ₊⁺⋆ Charlastor (eventual Chaggistor) ₊⁺⋆ Explicit

//This is a little excerpt of my Phantom of the Opera inspired throuple romantasy, updating weekly on Ao3. You can read the first chapter now...but this is the good stuff now hehe//

-----{--(@

Princess Charlotte Morningstar stumbled over the threshold and into the safe haven of her bed chambers. 

She ducked, gathering the skirts of her ballgown out of her way. Her long blonde hair fell loose and tumbled over her shoulders as she slipped into her shadow-drenched bedroom. 

She stilled as she caught sight of herself in the ornate, floor-length mirror that had been a constant part of the Morningstar Castle—ever since she could remember. 

Charlie stared at her disheveled appearance—her hair undone from the intricate style Niffty had crafted and her cheeks flushed a brilliant pink. 

She looked a mess. And she was glad no one else in the kingdom would see her in such a state. 

The heavy door of her bed chambers slammed shut. 

 Charlie watched as it move on its own in the looking glass, cutting off the shimmering light from the marble hall and the raucous sounds of the ongoing celebration downstairs. 

She spun, her back pressed against the polished surface of the mirror, goosebumps prickling over her bare neck and shoulders. 

As a shadow stretched along under her door, unaffected by the long gothic windows and the moonlight from the Realm of Hell’s red sky. 

“I know you’re here.” Charlie breathed. Her voice giving a little tremble. Her eyes darting around the room, eyeing every bit of shade. “You can come out now.” 

For a long moment, where Charlie could only hear the sound of her own pulse thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings in her ears, there was nothing but silence. 

Until a familiar chill ran down her spine. Her eyes darted to the inky darkness collecting under the door, seeping into her room, until they gathered up into a tall and lithe shadow of a man. 

Charlie’s breath caught in her throat as he finally spoke. 

“My dear,” came that smooth, static-tinged voice. “You know, I’m always here.”

The umbra clung to Alastor as he took a measured step towards her with the grace of a killer. 

A shaft of moonlight pierced through the high windows, finally illuminating the demon that had been mythologized into the monster. Bathing the Radio Demon in an ethereal glow. 

The phantom of Morningstar Castle was a vision of dark elegance. 

Alastor stood out in stark black among the other masquerade outfits with their flashing colors. Like the living embodiment of his shadows. Other than the striking scarlet coat with its delicate layer of dark lace. 

“Al,” Charlie felt a tug at the corner of her lips, though she still gripped to the mirror’s gilded edges. “I wasn’t sure you’d follow me.”

“Now, Princess,” Alastor’s voice purred, rich with amusement and unmuffled by the smiling, fanged mask that covered the lower half of his face. “As if I would ever stray far from you. Perish the thought.”

Charlie bit her bottom lip as he drew nearer. 

She would be missed from the party, and she was torn between her duty as Lucifer’s only child…and the dark desires Alastor stoked within her. 

Another step towards her, so slow that her heartbeat grew painful in her chest. 

He was doing this on purpose, he always was. 

“You seem conflicted, my dear,” Alastor observed, now mere feet away. “Having second thoughts?”

 “Never.” Charlie shook her head, blonde curls bouncing.

The shadows around Alastor’s form pulsed with demonic energy. She blinked, and he was gone. Vanished right before her eyes. 

Charlie called his name as she pushed herself up from the looking glass behind her, staring around the shadows of the room, waiting for him to make another dramatic entrance—as if one just wasn’t enough for him. 

“Do you always have to be so theatrical?” She huffed, despite the shivers of anticipation building along her skin. 

“Yes, darling, remember who you are speaking to.” His voice answered from nowhere and everywhere, like it was coming from the very stones of the castle. She felt a presence right behind her. Charlie barely had time to turn, as Alastor materialized from the mirror. 

Charlie gasped as arms wrapped fully around her. His chest pressed flush against her back, the cool black porcelain of his masked pushed against her ear. 

His heated breath spilled through the mess between the golden fangs—a delicious contrast that had her trembling in his arms. 

“This show has only just begun.” 

Alastor twirled the Princess towards her mirror, making her grab the frame to steady herself. 

Charlie stared at their reflections in the polished glass. Her rumpled white dress and tousled blonde curls were another gorgeous contrast to his perfectly composed silk and satin.

His eyes gleamed bright and scarlet above his smiling mask. 

“Al…” she began, but the whine caught in her throat. Desire quickly drowning the nagging voice of caution in the back of her mind. 

“Darling…” he whispered back, already overwhelming her senses with his pure proximity, let alone his purr. “Now, where were we…before those angels downstairs so rudely interrupted?” 

His chuckle was filled with dark promises that made Charlie’s thighs press together. 

Just as she felt something sliding its way up her ankles.

In the mirror’s reflection, she saw the shadows—his shadows gathering around the golden hem of her ballgown, delving under her skirts, and caressing up along her thighs. 

“Angel Dust—” 

Alastor’s hand pressed against her chest, pushing her back into his own, his black and red claws a vicious sight against the delicate bodice of her gown and the fragile skin of her throat. 

“—will kill you, if you rip this dress like you ripped my breeches.” Charlie tried to warn, but even in her own ears it came out like a desperate keen. His shadow tentacle had found what they were seeking—and were already stoking the heat between her legs. Nuzzling their way through her folds and gathering her arousal. 

All the chiffon and silk of Angel’s creation had been no match for Alastor’s wandering, tenebrous touch. Let alone her undergarments. 

Not in the ballroom, and certainly not in the Princess’s bedroom. 

“He can try to kill me all he likes,” Alastor chuckled, his breath spilling back over Charlie’s collar bones as his scarlet nails scratched lightly at her skin. “Many a man has tried and failed. ” 

She pressed back into his hold, soaking in that damn cocky confidence Alastor exuded. Wanting him to consume her. Charlie could hear the smirk on his lips as his shadowy tentacle finally, finally slipped back inside her. 

A gasp was pulled from her lips. But his eye gleamed a a dazzling ruby in the dark over her shoulder as she clutched to his arms. Another dark appendage flicked teasingly slow at her clit. 

Charlie writhed in Alastor’s hold. 

He already had her so damn worked up, why bother teasing now? Didn’t he already have her?

“Why so silent?” He purred at her ear, his arms tightening their hold around her torso. “If you’d kept this quiet before, we could have finished playing downstairs.” 

Charlie’s head bowed under the ministrations of the two tentacles under her skirt, her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she trembled in his arms. It felt so good. Being so…possessed by him like this. 

“Those dancing fools in your court never would have—”

“Alastor.” His name on her lips was tinged with protest. 

 She didn’t want to think about the visitors from the Kingdom of Heaven or the Goetia and their schemings. Charlie didn’t want to think at all. 

“Ah, should I help you focus on the present, dearest?”

Before Charlie could snark back an answer at Alastor, she felt another tendril of darkness slide up her legs, slick and cool against the gooseflesh erupting along her thighs. The tip pressed deftly against her furled ring of muscle, thinning before it slid into her ass. 

The Princess let out a sound of sheer bliss as her body bowed forward into the mirror. 

Alastor’s eyes were a radiant glow in the dark, glinting with an unholy hunger and pride as he watched her brace her hands on the mirror and give herself over to the feeling of being so utterly owned by the Radio Demon. The thrill he dragged from her with every push and pull of his shadows. 

Charlie was vaguely aware of fingers coming to clasp around her wrists, moving her bracing hands off of the looking glass, and onto the heavier ornate frame. 

“That’s a good girl,” Alastor praised her, nearly making her tumble over the edge then and there. 

She was his. He was hers. And nothing could change that. 

Alastor’s long fingered hand curled under Charlie’s chin, lifting her head up sharply. “Look at your face in the mirror.” He commanded her, voice low and seductive in her ear. 

Her eyes flew open, meeting her own completely debauched reflection. Charlie could see her own bitten lips, her cheeks flushed, and her gaze hazy with all he was doing to her. 

“How beautiful you are, ” Alastor praised in a purr. “Like a Princess—thoroughly ravished by her shadow demon.”

Charlie couldn’t deny it. There’s something about being taken by Alastor like this, about being completely at his mercy, that made her feel more alive than anything else. 

“You belong to me, as I do to you.” 

She leaned back against him, giving herself over to him. She trusted him, trusted him to take care of her, to protect her, and to give her the pleasure she craved. 

His hands pressed hers into the frame of the mirror, his fingers long and wicked and threaded through her pale grasp. 

As his shadows lifted her skirts before the mirror. Baring Charlie and what his dark powers were doing to her before his gaze. His scarlet eyes left a burning trail along every inch of exposed flesh, like she could feel their caress. The demon’s body shuddered against her back. 

Charlie gasped out Alastor’s name as he tightened his grip around her, plunging his shadows deeper into her—until she was lost in the feeling of him. And the bliss he drew from her with a sigh. 

-----{--(@

“Al…please.” Charlie whined as he shifted, wrapping his arms around her middle as his shadows stilled, just keeping herself upright against the mirror. 

“So impatient, little love?” Alastor’s heated breath tutted through his mask and tickled against her ear. “Please what?”

Charlie reached behind herself in the mirror, her fingers finding the fangs…and the lips of the smiling mask that Alastor wore. 

His body froze against her back. 

“A creature as beautiful as you should never see something so hideous.” Alastor murmured, his voice low and rougher than she was used to hearing it. “You do not know what you are asking for.”

“That’s all I ask of you.” Charlie asked in her softest and sweetest voice as her fingers curled into the edges of the porcelain. “To know all of you.” 

His breaths hesitated at her neck, but she knew Alastor was considering. Because even she knew that the Radio Demon had trouble resisting the Princess. He would do anything for her. 

“Please,” she said again, her voice a little stronger. “I want to feel your lips on mine again.” 

Alastor shivered behind her. 

And the deepest darkness fell over Charlie’s eyes. 

But she knew she’d won, as she always did, when she heard the clasps of the mask come undone at her ear. He’d wrapped one of his shadowy tentacles around her eyes, but still, he’d given in to her, as he always did. 

Even if he acquiesced with a growl. 

Then Alastor’s lips were on her neck, the edge of his razor-sharp teeth against her skin. His lips gentle as ever along her neck. 

Charlie couldn’t see him. He hadn’t allowed that yet, but she could feel him. She reached for him blindly, her fingers brushing his cheek. 

He flinched at her touch. 

His skin was rougher than Charlie expected, like old wounds marred his face near the hard line of his teeth. 

“Why would you want to know the face of a monster?” 

He asked, his voice low and husky. His breath fanned against her ear, sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through her veins.

 There was hesitation on Alastor’s breath, but Charlie didn’t care that he was disfigured. 

“Because you’re the man I love,” she replied, her voice steady and sure. “And I want to kiss every inch of you.”

She threw her arms around his sharp shoulders and kissed him, anyway.

Passion and possession. 

The softness of her lips against scars she could feel carved into his face, and what she thought were stitches criss-crossing his mouth. 

She pulled him closer, pressing her lips to his and tasting the dark sweetness that was uniquely Alastor. Charlie kissed him harder until she felt Alastor groan. And his fingers tangled into her blonde hair. 

His body pressed hers back into the cool glass of the mirror, his long-fingered hands roaming her body with a new fervor. As she felt his dark powers lifting the skirts of her ballgown. 

“Please Alastor.” Charlie murmured against his lips, tugging at the lapels of his coat and feeling the texture of the lace under her palms. “Haven’t you kept me waiting long enough?”

A dark chuckle rumbled out of his throat. “I suppose that I have.” 

Alastor needed no further encouragement.

Charlie felt it in her stomach the instant his shadows lifted her up from the marble floor of her bedroom, peeling back the miles of rich fabric, thrilling her as he exposed her to the cool night air of the room. 

“Darling girl.” Alastor purred, his lips against her cheek, his growl in her ear as his body pressed against hers. “How could I ever deny you anything?”

The tip of his cock was just brushing, teasingly, agonizingly against her slick entrance. Charlie groaned out her impatience, trying to pull him forward by the lace of his coat.

 “So impatient.” Alastor chided in that teasing tone of his. 

Her brows wrinkled against the dark tendril still covering her eyes, opening her mouth to verbalize her protest—when he finally slid inside of her with a slow, deliberate thrust. 

Filling her completely, claiming her as his own. 

He pinned her back to the mirror as his body moved into hers, and she tried to meet his every movement. Her fingers buried in the scarlet red hair, kissing lips she could not see. But, she could feel everything. Every thrust of his cock, the way his perfectly tailored clothes stretched over taught muscles, the way his shadows moved over her body, playing her like an instrument under his capable hands. 

And the way that Alastor’s lips moved with hers as he whispered his sweet and sinister praises into her skin. 

In that blessed, blissful moment, he was hers, and she was only his. And nothing else mattered.

 No Kingdoms of Heaven and Hell. 

No angels and demons ready to war just outside their door. 

No other man trying to steal her hand away. 

Charlie let her head fall back, thudding against the mirror as she clenched down on Alastor’s cock in purest pleasure. Clutching to him as he filled her with a rough, harmonic hum into her ear. 

Alastor’s thin lips pressed tender kisses along her face and neck as their panting breaths mingled and slowed. 

Slowly, he pulled from her, pulling away, and the Princess felt the pang of loss the moment she was empty. 

Charlie cupped his face to his, knowing what would come before he uncovered her eyes, and trying to prolonge the moment for as long as Alastor would allow. The Princess got one last kiss against her Radio Demon’s scarred lips, before he set her back on her feet. 

And she heard his mask slide back into place. 

Charlie blinked as the darkness fell from her eyes. Even her dimly lit chambers seemed bright compared to his dark powers. 

“Al,” Charlie sighed, content but with a bittersweet tinge as the mask was back in place.

Alastor’s burning red eyes had calmed, and his hands seemed fixated on fixing her dress. Smoothing her skirts and adjusting her bodice. 

Though, when she reached for him, he let her fingers slide through his hair. And didn’t flinch away from her hand being so close to his mask. 

“Alastor.” Charlie nudged him gently. 

“They’ll be missing you from the party.” He murmured, his attention on lacing up her corset properly, though he never pulled them too tightly. 

Charlie’s eyes went wide with shock, looking around at herself, before finally taking a second to look in the mirror. 

She was a mess. Her hair was fallen from its curls and she was now sporting several love bites across her pale skin. Charlie put her hands on her hips, looking over her shoulder at the tall, dark, and still perfectly composed scarlet tinged figure. 

“You’re not seriously going to make me go back out there.” 

And she heard a chuckle from his throat. 

“You know well I could hardly make you do anything.” Alastor drew a hand through his hair, his ears flattening for a moment. “I shall send word to Husker that you’ve fallen ill for the night, shall I?”

Charlie’s scowl was replaced with a smile. “You shall. And if I’m feeling so faint, you should take me to bed.” 

His head turned sharply towards her before he gave a roll of his scarlet eyes. 

The Radio Demon inclined his head and gave a bow. “If my lady commands it.” 

Charlie was caught up in a fit of giggles as shadows swept her up into Alastor’s arms, his low chuckles joining her laugh as his tentacles parted the crimson curtains around her bed. 

Alastor deposited Charlie tenderly in the middle of her plush pile of pillows and comforters, kneeling beside her as he sank into the bed. 

“Won’t you stay?” 

Charlie asked him, grabbing for the front of his suit. 

She saw the hesitation in his eyes even as the mask gleamed its everpresent smile. 

“Princess…” He began, in that tone that told her he was trying to reason with her, that already brought the pout to her royal lips. “There are…esteemed guests in the castle tonight. I should keep an eye out.” 

“Tell me you do not have a shadowy eye on every angel that steps over the threshold of Morningstar castle.” Charlie grinned. 

And Alastor sighed. “Very well, you win.” 

“I always do.” The Princess smirked, settling against him. Happy to have her Radio Demon at her side for one more night. 

-------{--(@

A Harmony of Haunted Hearts is a romantasy inspired by the Phantom of the Opera…with a happy, throuple ever after ending~

You can find it updating weekly on Ao3. 

[fizziepopangel]

A Fizziepop Take: Let's talk about what we know about Husk…. And what we need to know

Ok, so I think the title says it all, so let's get right into it!

Much like most of the Hazbin fans out there, I have been listening to the songs from the show on repeat since the release of each one… But “Loser Baby” got me thinking today… We know next to nothing about most of the characters still, which isn’t a huge issue as of now since we know there will be a season 2 so we have plenty of time to (hopefully) learn more about each character and their individual back stories… But “Loser Baby” made me think about one of the characters I think we really need more lore for: Husk.

So we all know the basics: Husk is a former gambling addict turned sinner demon who died sometime in the 1970s and has taken on the appearance of a cat/avian hybrid who ended up selling his soul to the radio demon, causing him to work as the bartender and concierge at the Hazbin hotel. We can see most of this in the pilot episode (despite it not being canon anymore, it still gives us the basics of his story, and not much changes within this aspect), however, we learn from the show that Husk was actually an overlord once prior to being put on a leash by Alastor after a gambling deal gone very wrong on his end….

Now, fast forward to season 1 of Hazbin Hotel, and we see a very different version of what Husk once was. Gone are the days of his nice clothes and clean, polished look that we see in the flashback; instead the man we’re introduced to behind the bar is scruffier, underdressed by comparison, and seems to be far more jaded than the younger version we see in his little flashback.I think everyone caught the somewhat drastic change in appearance since I saw a post about how we need more Husk lore and pointing out how much different the man looks, and I did comment on it, bringing ups some pretty good points (I think), but something hit me like a train tonight as “Loser Baby” blasts through my headphones: ‘How powerful is Husk now?’

Hear me out on this, because we know that since he is owned now and obviously terrified of the man who owns his soul, he definitely isn’t all that powerful…. But I don’t think he’s completely powerless either since he says it himself in his duet with Angel. Husk specifically says “I sold my soul to save my power…”, which implies that while he lost his overlord status and the souls he owned himself, Husk didn’t lose his power, at least not completely. And we know that he can fight and isn’t really opposed to violence since he stops the demon in that bar from drugging Angel’s drink, leading to a larger fight, and since he fights to defend the hotel. We also see the playing cards he uses as weapons…. So the question begs: How powerful was the King of Hearts (someone headcanoned that he was called that as an overlord and I wholeheartedly believe that now) and how powerful is Husk now? How much power would the radio demon allow him to keep, and what does his contract detail that allows him to maintain any power and still keep him scared shitless of Alastor? If Husk did in fact sell his soul to Alastor to save his power, does that mean that he does more for the feared radio demon than just sling booze? While we do see Alastor fight Sir Pentious… or rather, we see Alastor absolutely destroy Sir Pentious in a fight early in the season for his own personally amusement, I personally wouldn’t put it past Alastor to use Husk and other demons who have ended up indebted to him to take care of the fights like this or other smaller fights that he may deem too petty to take care of himself. It could also be a sort of power move for him in a way as he’s showing those indebted to him how little their souls now matter to him and how disposable they’ve become, which would also serve as a reminder to the other souls contracted to him that they are liable to suffer the same fate if they screw up, which I think could explain why Husk was so fearful of Alastor’s threat after making his jab about Alastor being owned by another himself… I definitely believe it’s a possibility, and possibly a pretty good one.

I personally love the theories, headcanons, and questions floating around the fandom right now and I cannot wait to see what Vivzie has planned for season 2 because I think that despite the rushed timeline of the first season was amazing in its storytelling and I think that now knowing that it was well received, she can go into more background for all the amazing characters she’s created. And personally I hope she adds more of Husk’s lore and backstory, and yes, I am definitely biased sinceI have blatantly said on my page that I do favor him, but I think his story will be a really good one and seeing more of it would really add more depth to his redemption arc.

[the-apple-of-her-eye-au]

An extract from the Halloween Ball chapter, including Lucille and Alice dancing like no one was watching.

Alice noticed that the ballroom floor was empty, everyone was filtered around the edges of the room, either on the precipice of the dancefloor or lingering to the walls like ornate flowers. The string quartet was playing a tune Alice was familiar with and she smirked subtly as she spotted Miss Bloom having an aneurysm over no one dancing. Well, she could easily remedy that.

Clearing her throat, she offered a hand towards Lucille. "Madam, might I have this dance?"

Lucille's cheeks burned with longing. You couldn't tell behind her mask, it left her mouth uncovered but everything else was hidden by the white of the mask, two horns poking through her golden locks. Alice's was red, coming down to her nose, two antlers and two ears, the tips painted brown.

Lucille's eyes softened as she took a hold of Alice's hand and just as Alice promised, she whisked her away to the dancefloor. Lucille put a hand on her shoulder whilst Alice put her hand on the bottom of Lucille's back. The two were aware that people were watching but they found that their anxiety had dwindled and the whole universe could be watching but they would never know. They were too caught up in the beauty of each other's eyes.

"The stars have never shined so brightly than they do tonight."

Lucille had been taught to dance from a young age, it was proper for a young lady to do so. Alice had been educated by her mother, a lady at heart. Her name had been Elise and she had been the most beautiful woman in creation, or at least Alice believed that until she had seen every part of Lucille Morningstar.

She had seen her polished skin, void of any marks or blemishes. God had perfected his craft when making her.

Alice was vaguely aware that there were whispers as they danced along the floor, each step precise and their eyes never wavered from each other. She found that, for once, she cared not for idle gossip and chit chat. This was far more important.

Others followed their lead and couples began to join in, love swirling around the room. Couples that were fighting ceased, those who thought they had fallen out of love could barely keep their hands off each other, and those who had been too afraid to say their feelings found the courage to do so.

[phoenixblack89]

Not gonna lie

Hazbin Hotel thoughts below so no spoilers for those who ain't seen it yet.

I fucking loved the first 4 episode of Hazbin!

Angel and Husk are just amazing!

I did have my reservations about the show because the original voice actors weren't returning (Gabriel especially, loved his version of Alastor) and was a tad worried they would change a lot from the original pilot *cough* cherry bomb is missing *cough*

But so far the animation is of course very clean and polished as is expected from full time professionals. And the storyline is drawing me in. The new characters are piquing my interest too especially Camilla. She's got such an awesome look and her voice is powerful in her diet with Vaggie. Vaggie's voice gets a wee bit drowned out in that song, maybe it'll be better in other songs?

Alastor and Vox's rivalry is gonna be so much fun to see played out more.

The songs are interesting to say the least. Some are very ear worm like - poison for sure, loser too.

Some just feel like they needed more powerful vocals as I already mentioned. Some I just didn't quite get but may on more repeated viewings.

[nymphith3690]

Hazbin Hotel Fanfic

An excerpt from a longer WIP

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor Centric. Not Beta-Read.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Orleans and Hell weren’t so different, actually. Hell was hot, humid, unbearable, perhaps, to a lesser demon.

Alastor had, ah, special training in such situations. Of course, it wasn’t completely the same. The nip of a Louisiana winter, snapping to a freeze overnight and then back to seventy the next day, was a trial upon itself.

The closer you got to the center of hell, or, in this case, where the ring of pride dared to almost cross the ring of wrath, the hotter, the more humid it became.

The more memories of home began to surface.

The more you started to regret the trek.

An understandable deterrent for most sinners.

Alastor stood in front of the unassuming metal gate. Unlike the majority of fences in pentagram city, where they had large spikes on the ends for deter nets, this one was smooth, polished, black steel.

The gate was open, welcoming, but the wafts of hazy, disillusioned air sifting through the divide was anything but.

Oh well, Alastor was never one to allow discomfort to keep him from his errands, and a troublesome chore this one was, indeed.

The overlord stepped through the gate, smiling brightly through the sudden burst in humidity. It was like stepping inside to the greenhouse Rosie built, which, to be completely candid, was an apt description.

This was, after all, the only complete garden in hell.

“Hello?” He stepped further on the property. “Anyone there?”

As Alastor stepped further into the garden, the more the harsh red gravel beneath his feet turned into crinkled brown grass. The sky of pride washed everything, from the already maroon roses to the white lillies in red.

In the distance, he could hear a stream, or, at the very least, moving water. Not so dissimilar to that of a slow river, but there was also a faint noise that was just barely noticeable. The water was moving erratically, oddly, as if some-

Ah. As if someone were swimming inside it.

“I don’t like to be kept waiting, you know,” he called out, walking slowly towards the sound of the stream. “I have a radio show to begin in about an hour! Time ticks ever more.”

A moment, two.

Alastor felt his eye twitch, his smile stretching even more.

How dare she-

“-you come into my garden,” a voice hissed, a whisper that did nothing to hide the rage. “And have the audacity-“

A vine launched itself forward, out of a nearby rose bush, and pierced itself against the other wall of greenery. Thorned leaves, dripping with a viscous yellow liquid, hung just a bit above the tip of Alastor’s nose.

Interesting.

“The audacity,” the demon seethed, an extended hand appearing from the edge of the hedge, towards the direction of where Alastor had assumed the stream was. “The nerve-“

“Well, dear, I can assure you that I would not be this far from Pentagram City if it was not warranted. Now, could you please remove your vine and step out, we can have a chat.”

The demon didn’t speak, the hand shaking minutely as the vines retracted, slithering along the grasses and towards the other demon. More vines joined the first, wrapping together and cooking like snakes in the bayou.

Finally, after nearly a minute, the demon strapped out. Alastor stared upon the grey skin of the humanoid. Most of the skin was covered by a floor length beige dress, the bottom stained by red mug, with sleeves down to the wrists.

The demon had long, dark brown hair that fell in ringlets around her face, and it was at that moment that Alastor realized the rumors were true, and the guardian of the Garden of Eden, protected by the overlord Zestial, was not even an demon at all.

Light radiated off of the woman’s flared wings, pointed and stretched, giving wind of her obvious stress.

“Ah, hello, Eve. My name is-“

“I know who you are. What do you want, Radio Demon?” She hissed.

Alastor began to take a step forward, but the coiled vines at the angel’s feet tensed again, waiting to strike.

“No need for all of that, dear, I am here to simply talk.”

“I don’t talk with demons-“

“-isn’t the definition of a demon a soul who is tormented by hell? And if you’re here,” he drawled. “Then you, miss Eve, are one of us.”

The vines lunged forward, thorns poised to strike. Alastor side stepped the attack, but they curved as they passed, causing his eyes to narrow.

Well that is a slight annoyance.

Alastor snapped, and his shadow lunged forward, cutting through the vines and stopping the flimsy attack.

Eve looked on, dismayed, her fists balled at her sides, and her wings flapped once, twice, just enough to throw herself up in the air- out of reach.

“You-“

“- I am an Angel! I am Eve, first woman, the wife of Adam-“

Tsk tsk.

“-Adam traded you for her- Isn’t that why you’re down here anyway? Damned to remember your sins by being cursed to this garden?” Alastor held up his hand, a tad peeved over being interrupted so much by the Angel. Her grief and obvious terror was not enough of a reason to be rude.

“And even then, it’s only been for the past, what, seven years? So, Miss Eve, it begs the question what in Lucifer’s name happened to curse you down here, and why she is up there.”

“I say all of this, dear, because it has become apparent we have a common enemy!”

“…Adam?”

“I have no use to talk of a dead man, Miss Eve. No, I am referring to Lillith.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

Welp. Should I continue it? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

[rubra-wav]

Is this blog going to become another one that's gone inactive due to loss of hyperfixation? I really hope not because I love it :(

Nope. I'm not going anywhere, dw 🙏

Without getting too far into it, i've just been dealing with a growing pile of bs IRL that's been making me. Well. Not feel good /lh

I'm also chronically ill and that's particularly been absolutely buttfucking me the past few days due to temperature changes + the stress from the former 👎

Skill issue, I know /j

My hyperfixation iron is still burning hot and I'm definitely not going anywhere. I'm just dead asf rn 💀

There's a lot to come dw. I'm just trying to revive myself

Also, although I'm not taking reqs for full posts/polished writings, y'all are absolutely still welcome to just generally talk to me about Hazbin, i.e., send your own headcanons, ask questions, stuff like that. I love when people interact w me outside of just requesting stuff

[oddlyhale]

So thoughts on hazbin so far? What would you change and critique of the show? Hope you are doing wonderful.

Well truth be told, I'm not a fan of constant profanity. Sure I know it's based in hell and every devil and demon is bound to be volatile, but I'm not a fan of shows that use too much profanity. Makes me think of South Park, which I'm also not a fan of. I know Viv is a big fan of SP and other shows like it, which is probably why I'm not digging HH as much as I hoped, but I can eventually ignore it.

But I'm really bummed out that Vaggie's entire character feels tied to Charlie, and that the only thing she has going for her is Charlie. I know she owes Charlie quite a lot for saving her from the streets, but I hope they keep expanding on her character more and not leave her as a lost puppy, because I think Vaggie's got incredible potential to be the best. I've been a huge fan of Vaggie for years and I'm still waiting for any development.

Regardless, I think the relationship between Charlie and Vaggie is so sweet and special. I love that Charlie is a very understanding girlfriend to Vaggie, even if she may come off airheaded. Vaggie has a big heart even if her exterior feels cold. The writing may need work but I do believe they're doing their best with characterizing.

The pacing is very fast. Like, I didn't think we'd be seeing Heaven so soon because I had thought it would be like pulling teeth to set foot up there, but no, we're just there. Even seeing Vaggie there, despite being an ex-angel, was very weird. The show's trying to pump out so much lore that it really should've been slowed down. I'm kinda worried we won't have much to work with in season two.

The animation is kinda janky to me. I know it's all hand-drawn and it's not going to be the most polished thing we'd ever see, but the way characters move takes me out of the moments. It's like you can see the frames rather than seeing smooth transitions.

But these are just merely complaints. I do like the show, but I'd say the pacing could certainly be its Achilles heel. I may love Hazbin Hotel but I'm not going to keep criticisms to myself just because it has a special place in my heart.

[rainbowpandas23]

Blow Me For Luck-

*Hazbin Hotel. Angel and Husk have date night at a casino. They flirt and gamble. Gay ensues. This is the setup and if y'all want more then the second part will be E for extra spicy*

The casino was packed, bustling with demons all looking to win big or screw someone else over; a typical night in any of Hell's casinos. Angel leaned against the beautiful polished bar, smoking a cigarette while waiting on the bar tender to finish mixing his Cosmo and pouring Husk’s regular- a whiskey sour, neat.

He looked across the crowded casino hall and saw the throng of sinners at the craps table surrounding his boyfriend. Husker was usually a poker player (which Angel found both attractive and hilariously on-brand thanks to the pattern on the cat demon's wings) but when they came to this gambling house for tonight's date night, Husk made a beeline straight for the dice. And, boy, was he on a roll…some pun intended.

Husk knew when to bet on Pass or Don't Pass like it was second nature. Everyone was flocking to his table to throw chips down and cheer him on. His come-out rolls were frequently 7’s and 11’s but every so often he would place other bets around the table to spice things up and rake in more dough.

Angel smiled to himself as he took a final drag off his cigarette, smashed it in the ashtray and plucked the two glasses of liquor off the counter to head back to his lover. It was fun to watch Husk on a hot streak. It was even more fun being his arm candy and feeling like the most powerful couple in the room. Heads turned and the crowd parted as Angel slinked forward in his short, tight dress.

“Here ya go, baby.” Angel pressed his chest to Husk's back and draped two of his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders as he returned to the table, setting the whiskey sour on a coaster. “Just how ya like it.”

The spider demon kissed Husker on the cheek, feeling everyone around eyeing them with envy and/or approval. Not quite the same type of high as hard drugs, of course, but definitely a high that Angel enjoyed basking in.

Husk snaked one arm around Angel's waist and pulled him close.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Husk smirked at Angel Dust, mirth in his eyes from win after win. “I needed a stiff drink. This table is fucking crazy!” The cheers kicked up at that comment, everyone hooting, hollering and throwing down more chips before Husk rolled again.

Husk leaned up to whisper to Angel while the crowd was distracted by the revelry.

“Welcome back, my beautiful corno portafortuna. What took you so fuckin’ long?”

Angel Dust felt a warm blush spread across his cheeks. The “lucky horn" nickname was a new one (and, if Angel was being honest, a very smooth one at that). Clearly Husk was riding a high of his own if he felt confident enough to drop sweet-nothings in Italian while out in public.

“Tha line was long, bello. But now I'm back an’ I’m ready to watch you win…big." Angel stroked Husk's chest and looked down at the stack of chips in front of them. He did a quick mental tally of the winnings-good so far- but knew Husky was just getting started.

More bets were placed, more dice were rolled. People swore, cheered and laughed around them. About an hour in and Husk had more than doubled his starting cash amount, despite a few sour rolls. But…it was about time for Angel and Husk to head back to the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie had let them borrow the limo for their date on the condition that the boys be home before midnight.

*Like fuckin’ Cinderella* Angel thought, looking at his phone. A little past 11….they could play for a little while longer but Angel would be double-damned if he wasted an opportunity to fuck in the back of Charlie's limo. It would piss Vaggie off to no end knowing that him and Husk had a kinky time in Charlie's lux family car, ESPECIALLY if they made sure to leave it pristine afterwards. She couldn't get him in trouble if there was no proof, after all. All he had to do was pull Husk away from the craps table and get him in the mood.

One was definitely easier than the other, in Angel's experience.

“How're ya feeling, Husky? What do ya say we call it a night? Maybe take our fun back to the hotel?” Angel crooned, leaning his arms against the table and pressing them together to accentuate his chest floof. Husk, like many others, was a sucker for Angel's fluffy figure.

“Huh?” Husk looked over to Angel, seemingly about to protest, but the spider gave him a coy smile and a few bats of his long eyelashes. That stopped the older man in his tracks and he took a moment to think before responding with a happily defeated sigh. “Okay, Angie. But one more roll before we go? I feel it in my fuckin’ bones…this is the big one!”

Angel expected about as much.

“Fine, I'll take that deal! One more roll, then we cash your big, fat winnings and get outta here.” Angel let his voice drip with seduction to make sure Husker knew that he wasn't gonna get a chance to roll again after this last one. The spider had plans, after all.

Husk grinned, gathered all his chips and turned to the stickman.

“All in. Horn high snake eyes.”

Angel's jaw dropped. Not only was Husk going all in, but he was doing so on the bet with the shittiest probability of winning. The demons around the table exploded in reactions and clamored to place their own bets in response.

“Holy shit Husky! Honey, are ya sure?”

“Of course I'm sure, mi corno portafortuna,” Husk picked up the dice, rolled them between his paws and then held them out on his palm in front of Angel. “Now give Daddy a blow for luck.”

Angel was taken aback. Husker's current confidence was completely different than his normal curmudgeonly self. Normally Husk would rather chew on glass than admit to a single soul that he and Angel enjoyed some Daddy kink every now and again. Not to mention the blatant innuendo in front of a large group of strangers. It was surreal, but at the same time incredibly hot to see.

This was gonna be fun.

“Anything for you, Daddy.” Angel leaned down and blew a steady stream of air onto the two red dice. Then he turned, grabbed Husk's face and gave him a hard, deep kiss.

“And if you win, I'll blow you too.” Angel murmured as he pulled away, smiling to show a glint of his gold tooth.

Husker grinned a sharp, almost feral, grin in response to Angel's promise. He looked fierce, determined and borderline unhinged- he was truly a different demon while riding the high of his vices.

He shook the dice in his hand once, then let them fly across the table. The crowd went dead quiet as the little red cubes bounced around, tension in the air. They came to a stop on the felt covered table.

Snake eyes! Everyone surrounding the table shouted in excitement, impressed by the cat beating the very small odds.

“Fuck! YES!” Husk slammed the last of his drink in celebration.

“OHIMIGOD HOLY SHIT HUSKY!” Angel hugged Husk from behind with all four of his arms, jumping and beaming with joy.

They collected their chips immediately and brought them to the cash out counter, getting several large stacks of bills in return. Angel clung to Husk's arm as they walked, trying to hurry him out the door and into the limousine as fast as possible. After seeing Husk act so intense and confident, Angel was yearning to give his boyfriend what he promised.

And after that, well…Angel Dust had no doubt that he was gonna get lucky too.

[ravenwolfie97]

2020 Art Summary

Yep, it’s 2021 already. 2020 is finally over. It felt like it lasted forever, and it felt like the end would never come, but here we are. Crazy how the time flew by.

I felt like I didn’t get much art done this year because of Current World Event, but I made a lot more than I thought I did. Even some of my new favorite pieces came out of this year, so I think that’s worth celebrating and looking back upon!

I was insanely productive during the first month of 2020, and looking back I was surprised at all the stuff I did, but then I remembered that that winter season was actually one of the best times of my life! I started being more socially involved, and I think my newfound drive at the time translated into all the art I pumped out this month. This is just a small fraction of what I made in January, but I only have so much space. Quite a few complex pieces in both style exploration and polishing my own style.

Apparently February was a rather intimate month. Things began to slow down in terms of my own art here, with me spending more time in social settings and school work ramping up, I didn’t have as much time to coop up in my room to draw. I did wanna do something for a friend’s Valentine’s Day OC art challenge, so I drew my lovey-dovey couple from Dance of 1000 Words havin’ a dance. Nothing actually came of that challenge, but it was fun to do regardless.

One of the things I was most proud of in the winter season was making more friends, and one of the closest friends I made was completely coincidental. I met a person named Kiri on the bus one night I decided to volunteer somewhere by myself, and we ended up chatting and getting along. They quickly told me their tumblr username, and I shot them a message immediately after they left. A couple days later, we met up for brunch, and we started becoming really close friends and creative partners!

Not much else happened in March cuz that’s when Current World Event started becoming an issue, but Kiri and I still kept in close touch and we randomly started developing a concept for a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Galar Edition. These are a handful of characters we thought up, with Skipper the Scorbunny and Dross the Dreepy as the main characters, Morgrem as the main antagonist, and some shopkeepers such as those of the Greedent Bank and the Indeedee General Store. This was also my first time drawing all of these Galar Pokemon (except Scorbunny, but I also made Skipper a bit more unique than a regular Scorbunny).

Lots of events happened this month. First of all, Steven Universe Future ended, one of my favorite and most influential shows was no longer continuing. I had to do something as tribute, both as a send-off to one of the greatest cartoons in the world and as a cathartic release for my feelings towards it.

A while later, I got the opportunity to start playing an MMO in beta called Fer.al, by the same people who made Animal Jam, which coincidentally I had also beta tested for back in the day. I ended up getting really attached to my first character, a Senri I named Sasha, and though I’ve made more characters than them since, they’re still my absolute favorite. Though I haven’t touched the game in a few months, I was really engrossed for a long time and enjoyed playing through the beta and early access phases.

At the end of the month, some friends of mine invited to a roleplay group with some mutuals, and we all played characters in a crime syndicate. Just a bunch of ragtag thieves and criminals who ended up together in order to protect an artifact called the Crown of Thieves, which was essentially a flag to be taken by other groups to prove that they are the best thieves in the land. My character was based heavily on my sona (if it wasn’t obvious) and was also influenced by Cloud Strife, since the FFVII Remake had just come out and I was super into watching the cutscenes at the time. My character’s (code)name is Valkyrie, and they are a mercenary, going between multiple different employers to carry out whatever duties they need to do. They have a more complicated backstory, but presently they were recently hired by recommendation of their friend Shark (played by @shmoots-universe​ who is also My friend now ily maya) who works with a group called the Court Cards who are currently in possession of the Crown of Thieves. Valk never really had a place to call home, but staying with this group of people had to be the closest they could get to that feeling. They still sleep with a knife under their pillow because of trust issue but that’s okay.

Okay, so technically these examples started in April, but I continued making content with them in May, and the month was just pretty void of art in general, so here I am addressing them.

There were two main things I worked on this month: a Steven Universe AU of my own and the whole #sixfanarts thing that kicked off around then. Let’s start with the fanart bits. I did two and a half of them (six in April and nine in May), and it was so much fun to be able to draw stuff I don’t normally do! My personal favorites are shown here: Blake Belladonna from RWBY, Roll from Megaman, Yuki Konno from Sword Art Online, and Link from The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. The other thing I’d been planning for a while was a Steven Universe AU, probably to cope with the show being over but also because I was inspired by a lot of those SU AU artists I started following at the time. I won’t share the details here because it’s gonna have its own blog at some point, but the example I’ve shown here is of a comic I made loosely in order to introduce a divergence in the plot of the story as well as introduce a character unique to my AU. It was a lot of fun figuring out how to draw the characters and get a feel for the style.

As the year progressed, my amount of art I made per month began to dwindle, this time mostly because school was kicking my ass especially hard with finals. However, I took what time I had to get some backburner pieces finished, like the Tigerlily picture which I sketched out a couple months back, and the Gunvolt picture which I started working on SIX YEARS AGO. I don’t quite know why I got the urge to work on it again after so long, but it was nice to finally realize. The other drawing for DOTS was done in the dead of night but I was really happy with how it came out.

Despite only having two summer classes left of school, this month was really rough because they demanded a lot of my time and attention. I did not have the gumption to do anything digital, so I stuck to my sketchbook to get out what I felt like getting out.

My friends and I did a stream of the game Helltaker, and I really enjoyed the concept, so in following my friends I made my own Helltaker demon OC named Raksha the Ravenous Demon (it’s a pun but also got mythical insp). I also got super into Hazbin Hotel at this point, mostly because the Addict music video dropped and I couldn’t get enough of it, so I doodled Angel Dust cuz I felt like it. The other drawing I did was actually a free commission I gave a friend of mine as a prize for a trivia game show I ran back in June. He along with a couple other friends got some free drawings from me for getting the top three scores, and this one in particular was fun because of how interesting it was. He wanted me to draw a video game reviewer called the Irate Gamer from a specific moment, and I decided to go ham and just make it as dramatic as possible.

University classes finally wrapped up and right after that I was in the process of moving out of my apartment and getting adjusted to living with my parents again. I did a couple of agg.io drawing sessions with my friends from the Court Cards group as well as a new Dungeons and Dragons homebrew group I had joined. I drew some more of Valkyrie and came up with a design for my DND character Qakuqtuq (or Kai for short). He is monkey grandpa and I love him.

My main focus was on finishing a polished piece for my friend Cake, whose birthday was in the upcoming month. I wanted it to be as amazing as possible, so I put a lot of time into getting more detailed and making them look good. In addition to that, I did a few TOME doodles just for fun. The creature on the bottom was for this month’s art challenge on my Discord server where we made original TOMERPG monsters, and I created Hundylow, a Crystal-element monster based on the Grindylow from English folklore.

This month was a lot more productive than the past few had been. I tried to do a 31-day art challenge called Creatober but failed to get past the third prompt because I was still swamped with other work. I’m still happy with what little I did, including the piece with my characters Kyle and Guarudan from DSWD.

I don’t remember how, but I also suddenly rediscovered an old Flipnote Hatena series called Tales of LostClan, a Warriors fan series that I would say was the most obscure thing I’ve ever been super invested in. It was what got me into the actual Warriors books, and I liked it so much I redrew the animations into a comic... twice. Didn’t get nearly as far the second time but clearly my love for this little fanfiction had not waned after nearly a decade. I felt like drawing a book cover/movie poster for the series, just to get it out there and see how much I’ve improved over all that time.

Also I felt like making a vampiresona just before Halloween because I never dress up for Halloween in art (or real life anymore, for that matter), and I wanted to do something like that for once. It was short-lived but I really liked the design!

The focus of this month was definitely on Pokemon stuff. As per usual I contributed to the current Gotta Draw ‘Em All collab, and I was tasked to draw Regieleki. It was really fun to figure out how to make it stand out and look like it was made of electricity.

I also committed a lot of my spare time to my Fakemon Gym Leaders, as I had been working on bringing them to life in the past year or so now. As of this post, I’ve finished rendering their full body poses and gym badges, but I’m still working on completing all eight VS portraits, the first half of which are shown here.

I... didn’t draw anything this month, actually. What I’m showing here was worked on in the last few days but has actually been in progress for a couple of months, and I just finished it earlier today, in 2021. But I needed to show something off, and it’s also about time I mentioned it.

Back in October, I kept seeing people rave about this game called Genshin Impact, and I was interested but not so much as to start playing it... until my friends started playing and I was like “fuck it, let’s download it”. Since that day, I have been super immersed and in love with this game, to the point I came up with my own canon based on my gameplay experiences. This also included the creation of an original player character: Astra, the non-binary Traveller. And now, I’ve finally drawn them and brought them to life.

It has been one hell of a year. I had some of the highest highs and lowest lows in 2020, lots of changes, and I have now officially moved onto the next chapter of my life now that my time at university is finally over. I’m very excited for what 2021 has to offer, and I’m going to go forward with great ambition.