#I might draw sir pentious

[arrowsneo]

I’ve been converted into a Hazbin hotel fan against my will /hj

[omegabenaeart]

Look at all these goddamn degenerates 😂

all art + a bonus under the cut lol

Main cast

Then a self insert, because I love me some self indulgent bullshit 👍

[peppermint-whiskers]

God's Hosts

One Messenger, and one as of yet undecided. The only ones able to look upon Elohim's face without falling apart at the seams, hear his voice without feeling like their ears might explode. The only ones whose very bodies are subject to his will

They get some great hugs and kisses out of it tho uwu

[epic-agender-dude]

It's 1 am and I'm going crazy (forgot who the original creator of the meme was-)

(the watermark is just a place holder for now I'll make a better one later on!)

[edenfire]

❤️💣 "miss cherri bomb, I love you!" 💣❤️

and here's the final two to finish off my hazbin chibi set for @hellbentcon 🥺💗💞

they will be both stickers and rainbow buttons😊💘🌸

[selineram3421]

Deer Demon Child Headcanons

Requested

Alastor & Child Reader

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ implied death, mention of blood, mention of cannibalism, weapons-gun ⚠

It was a surprise to everyone that a child wandered into the hotel.

A little deer demon.

That's you

Climbed up one of the bar stools and stared the cat man down until he finally noticed them.

"Uh..hey? Kid."

"I want juice!", you pointed at a bottle behind him that was on the shelf.

"That's not juice."

While distracting you with magic tricks and cards games, Husk called Charlie to let her know that a new guest had arrived.

The Princess ran to get to the lobby and rushed over to the bar.

"Hi! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!", Charlie sings out before noticing the little deer. "Oh."

Everyone is called into the lobby.

"Ok!", Charlie claps her hands together and introduces you to the group. "Everyone, be nice and say hi."

Later on you are asked by Vaggie and Charlie how you got to the "red place."

Mostly everyone left and it was only you three. Four.

"Before I woke up here I was with my moma.", you said while coloring your drawing. "Dad had a shiney toy in his drawer and showed it to me a lot of times. It made fun clicking noises. I wanted to play with it, so I took it out."

As you were explaining you drew out the shape of a gun.

"I wanted to show Moma but she looked scared. And when I tried to make the clicky noise it came out different. It made a bang and then Moma fell."

You drew your mother covered in red.

"I tried to wake her up but she wouldn't get up. I got sad and started crying."

You didn't notice Charlie and Vaggie looking sad.

"Then Dad came home and started screaming at me and took the toy away. And then everything went dark for a while."

Picking up your paper, you showed the girls your drawings.

"And then I woke up to the red sky!"

Charlie hugged you after and said that she'll make sure you go to Heaven.

Oof sad backstory.

Husk literally growls at Alastor everytime he mentions venison for dinner.

Alastor has joked to others that he'll eat you but stopped once he grew fond of you.

"Little fawn.", he smiles as he greets you. "Would you like gingerbread cookies?"

To be honest, everyone is worried that Alastor might kill you. But surprise, surprise! They are shocked when he takes care of you instead.

You're the favorite hotel guest.

Anyone that tries anything will be taken care of.

Charlie did a talent show day and you sang, surprising everyone with your angelic like voice.

You're a curious little deer and the hotel guests and staff find you in odd places.

Once Angel found you upsidedown behind the couch that was against the wall.

"What are ya doing back there?", he asked after pulling you out.

"Niffty said there was treasure!", you smiled.

Alastor finds it adorable that you go to him when someone you don't know/scary person is in the hotel.

Sir Pentious is told to put all of his weapons away.

Everyone dubs you as Alastor's child. Even the Radio Demon himself.

Vaggie threatens Alastor after he jokes that you'll be a cannibal like him.

Of course he'd never do that but its funny to see Vagatha's and Husker's pissed off faces.

Alastor keeps up with the human news and learns that your father went to prison. So the Radio Demon waits for the man to fall.

Art will be provided. (Later)

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Art

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @faioula16 @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

[1-victoria-1]

Alastor x Child!Doe!Reader part 3

A/n: this is part 3 of the mini series of alastor x child!doe!reader, I hope you dear readers will enjoy it like the other two parts!

It was a very special day for you today!

It was your birthday! But while being alive you never got to celebrate it because either you papa (not Al of course) or your mama would be yelling at you or at each other and just basically not caring for you.

You didn't really tell anyone when your birthday was, you thought it wasn't important because of how your parents always reacted to it, but because of how much you loved your new papa and only wanted to celebrate it with him you told him about your birthday and its experience.

It would be a lie if Alastor said that he wasn't furious at your parents, he really thought at first your mother might be better than your father but it looks like he was wrong, he felt quite bad for his little doe daughter, so he thought why not make a small birthday party for you, just with the staff and Rosie, and he might consider adding Lucifer to the list because Charlie for sure tell her father.

Anyways, today was your special little day! And alastor was more then happy to pick out yet another cute outfit for you.

Today he picked out a soft red dress with ruffles of cores and black details on it, and he placed a black bet around you to make the dress look classy and of course black flats and gave you your miniature version of his staff.

He picked you up like always as you babbled to him with excitement to celebrate your birthday with him, not knowing the little birthday party he has planned for you.

When you both went down to the lobby, the staff and the ones who were invited (only Rosie and Lucifer) they yelled cheerfully "Happy Birthday!"

You were at first confused as well you only told Alastor about your birthday but you didn't pay much mind when you started to beam happily and giggling happily, of course you got kisses on your cheek as well as happy birthday wishes, and everyone got you a present and you were curious about them as you have never gotten so many presents on your birthday.

Alastor sat you down on one of the couches in the lobby and went to get the birthday cake and when he came back everyone, including him, sang you the happy birthday song to which you were happily wiggling in your seat which was just adorable!

You blew out the candles on the cake and were allowed to open your presents! Charlie got you a new coloring book with more pages to color and new color pencils, crayons and felt-tip pens! Vaggie didn't really know what to get you so she got you a plushie about which you were supper dupper exited! Angel got you some cute necklaces (and cute earrings if you have holes in your ears for earrings!) and also some bracelets, Husk honestly also didn't know what to get you so he also got you some new drawing supplies and paper to draw on, as well as some juice boxes which he only told you about as he had played them in the bar for you to take. Sir pentious gifted you an invention of his own which wasn't really smart as he only knew how to make war weapons and armory and he gifted you a gun..yeah alastor placed that away from you till you're old enough. Your favorite auntie, Rosie, gifted you a whole new wardrobe of mini versions of the outfits each staff member and the princesses and king and even she wore daily so you were just almost exploding from happiness! And last Luci! He gifted you a duck onesie and some rubber ducks as well!

To say the least you were literally vibrating in your seat from excitement and happiness which was adorable but you needed to calm down to eat the cake which resulted in Alastor picking you up and giving you your usual juice box, it somehow magically always calmed you down.

Then you all ate the cake and celebrated your birthday, after the celebration it was already late and everyone went to sleep but not forgetting to wish you happy birthday again and going to sleep, and you of course as well had your bedtime now, and oh how you babbled alastor's ears off by how happy you were and that it was the best birthday ever!

_________________________________________

A/n: i hope you dear readers enjoyed this part as well as the other two! Sadly it is a bit shorter then the other two but i didn't know what to add to this part, but anyways i hope you enjoyed it anyways!

And credits go to this wonderful person who gave me the idea of the duck onesie from Lucifer! : @whatthefucman

Have a wonderful day and night!

[culssi]

The last one was actually really fun to see so I’ll be doing a shipping one. I’ll try and include as many ships as I know of and can.

I will just be doing hazbin on this one, I might do a batim one if anyone wants 👁👄👁

I will not include Valentino x angel and Charlie x Alastor as those make me extremely uncomfortable.

Couldn’t add anymore 🥲. I was going to do Alastor and himself as to me he is an aroace king. But that’s all I can do. Might draw winner couple 🤨 idk.

Now with vox

[knight-a3]

Hazbin Hotel Sketchbook 2: Part 16

Masterpost

Charlie trying to bond with Sir Pentious over snakes is amusing to me. Neither Hugh or Pentious are very impressed.

Notes under the cut

I'm not sure I'll ever be fully satisfied with Rosie's hat. So it'll just be different every time, I guess. I added a veil this time because it seems like a very widow thing to do, and she is something of a husband killer. I like how it looks. But it seems like a consistency nightmare. But I also don't have to animate it so I don't need worry about it. But I will anyway.

I was playing with the idea of incorporating different flowers. So I looked for ones that represented death, and experimented with that. I narrowed it down to Poppies and Wolfsbane in addition to the obvious roses. But I guess it ended up too much of a hassle.

I tried out Rosemary as well, to sorta keep to the rose theme. But I wasn't fond of it, and I don't know why it supposedly represented death.

Wolfsbane is very poisonous. Pretty straightforward.

Poppies are a symbol of death and remembrance. They're often used for Remembrance Day/Veteran's Day/Armistice Day to commemorate the end of WWI and honor those who died in wars since. Then evolved to honor all military veterans as well. It could add something about WWI to her background, since Rosie is from the 1910s (or something about opium... I guess), but mostly I liked it because Poppies have grown on the battle sites and the morbidity of beauty on a field of death fits Rosie.

I ended up not sticking with anything beyond roses. But roses are hard for me to draw simply and consistently. I just gotta stop being perfectionistic about it. I might try the poppies again sometime.

[adyophene]

I got a few people saying they wouldn't mind seeing a run down of my unfinished work and sketches! So this is gunna be just a big ol post of that and just explaining what the doodles would have ended up being!

First off is just some sketches of Alastor, Husk, a really uncanny Blitzo, and an unfinished voxhusk sketch

Left Husk was reffed off a pose that i've since lost, and right was going to be a little comic of Husk bugging Vox and then Vox bugging Husk in return. :( I don't remember what dialogue I was going to use.

Next is just some unfinished couple sketches! Some Chaggie and Angel/Sir Pentious that I might still use at some point. TuT I think Angel and Pentious could make such a hilarious couple and it kills me that I can't find almost anything for it

and this husk was just going to be a redraw of this

but with Al, Vox, Angel, and Lucifer petting him

next is one I did already post but this one here; left was going to be a short comic where Lilith comes back and is enamored with Husk while also vaguely threatening to Alastor as she is. Right is the only doodle I have so far for a comic about Husk and Charlie getting caught hiding out from the rain, and Husk trying to talk to her about her making a deal with Alastor. Ugh. I need to even just thumbnail out that comic. Its been in my mental queue for literal months!

Next up is a bunch of sketches of my own Hazbin OC, Shiv! I've never posted anything about him alone before, but he's featured in a lot of the backgrounds of my pieces! He was a carnie in voxhusk fake dating, and then a waiter in the diner piece, and ticket booth attendant in the movie theater one!

I always love putting him in just whatever job the art calls for because he is a '1980's cocaine and bourbon grindset hustlepilled business fuck'. I don't know if I will ever expand his story in artwork, but if I did I would draw something about him trying to get a Soul-Based Multilevel marketing scheme going. Shiv is short for 'Shiver' because he froze to death after drunk wandering naked into the woods while on a skiing trip. He's in hell because he made his money doing shitty business practices like scamming old people out of their money with phone scams. If he saw Mad Men he'd think it would be about him, but he'd fit better in Its Always Sunny

Lastly, I have some sketches from a comic I am literally fighting myself not to make, where Husk ends up kidnapped by a ring of criminals that smuggle sinners to other Rings of Hell. Husk would be captured to be an exotic pet for a Ostrich theme'd Goetia, but would quickly escape. The main plot would be him running into and then helping out Blitzo in return for help getting back to the Pride ring!

I would have also got to include my other OC, the little Egg lamb, Sunnysides!

Literally would have just been a huge excuse for me to draw Husk going through Situations and hanging out with the Helluva Boss cast and my OCs.

[janus-cadet]

This card is brighter than the one I usually do- might even be the most colorful of the whole deck, so far! Which- fitting. Today, let's welcome Charlie Morningstar and Vaggie, double figures for the Ten of Cups!

(Now usually, the card also have one or two more people on it; I thought about adding Pentious, but our snake should have his card soon enough. Therefore, it's just the girls.)

Explanations under the cut, as well as a poll for the next card to draw, and the rest of the Hazbin tarot cards!

Upright, the Ten of Cups embodies happiness, joy, and emotional contentment. You have created an abundance of love and happiness in your life, and you now share this love with others, expanding your heart even more. This fits Charlie and what she created with her hotel, supported by Vaggie- together, they are the start of it all. You are now surronded by your loved ones (it's a fucking happy day in hell!), with whom you share a powerful and deep connection. You support one another, and you help other to reach their highest potential- on the path to redemption! Most of all, you do it because seeing others happy is the greatest joy you could have. It's the "happy family" card by excellence, as well as a positive card for romantic relationships- you're in a blissful one, if that's what you're looking for, to the point you may believe that you ar soulmates destined to be with one another (I do love them, mh, mh). When the card appears in your reading, it's time for you to take a step back, and appreciate everything you accomplished. You went through hard time, but look at that! You can do this, now we know it, and you actually did. Follow your heart, says the card, and follow your inner sens of Good.

Reversed, the card brings more subtility. You can see the Upright reading as mostly Charlie's idealistic view on the hotel and on redemption; but with the reversed Ten of Cups come the struggles. You may feel disconnected and disengaged from your loved ones, like your estranged father and your missing mother. You try to connect, but each times, something goes wrong, and the distance between you grows. Why does he forgets everything you say? Can't he pay attention? Why is he not calling more often? Or maybe you're afraid to trust, and you're keeping some secrets close to your chest. You don't open up enough, and you create, without meaning to, a distance with others, with her. You're too rash and too impulsive, but you mean well- surely, they can see that? It may have an impact on your relationship; you need to realise that nothing is perfect, and every relationship has its ups and downs. The Ten of Cups invite you to seek out a common ground with your loved ones, and rebuild the relationship from there. Talk to your father about why, exactly, he's so reluctant to help; talk to your partner about who you are, and where you came from. Open the lines of communication and be ready to hold space for one another. Be compassionate, understanding, and respectful. The card can also mean that you're starting to doubt yourself, and what you are doing. Is it really worth it? Are you up to the task? Are you letting other people down? You have to rethink those questions. Think about what makes you happy, what you believe in, and bring back your focus to that.

And that's it for today! I'm planning to do at least three more Hazbin cards- if the fixation does not die by then. Not that it shows any sign of slowing down, oh boy- they are all so fun to draw, too!

Anyway.

And with that, Hazbin Hotel verse is the most represented fandom in my whole deck of cards, right before Doctor Who. Ah!

If you have read this far- well done. So proud of you. You win a peach cider, if you're even able to drink this abomination. And paf, the rest of the cards!

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Do you have a molly redesign?

I do!

She isn’t a fullbody or finished at all but I love her dearly. Whenever I draw her face I like to make her look really sweet until she opens her eyes and its like ⚫️w⚫️ and its like “oh! um!” Cause I love doing stuff with eyes. I want hers to be kind of creepy looking cause I mean shes a spider! But also I want her to look a bit out of place in heaven, her halo is a little crooked, her eyes are really big and don’t have much shine to them, and her general appearance is just a little off putting the way she stares and her interests. Like she was in the mafia and witnessed her brother overdose and slowly die in a coma, shes going to be kind of fucked up. Plus she has a bit of a thousand yard stare in canon anyway

I think molly being in heaven is really interesting honestly and it’s a large part of her character, like she’s very important to plot once Sir Pentious gets into heaven and we actually see more of it. Shes still her own person of course but she also serves as a way to show that some people in heaven are almost as strange as people in hell. Molly loves spiders and has an intense interest in true crime and surgical procedures, also again, she’s something that people are usually afraid of, like when you die and go to heaven most people usually aren’t like “OH MY GOD I HOPE IM A SPIDER…” but she totally was cause shes just like that.

Unlike Angel (hence why he isn’t up here) Molly was very religious and still holds a large chunk of religious trauma, however she remains faithful and is using her faith as a way to cope with her grief and stress. A large majority of her family were homophobic and transphobic so having two twins that were respectively gay and trans they didn’t take very kindly to that. Molly was just much much more closeted than Angel/Anthony. She still tried to help him with his problems but found it hard to when he was so engaged in the family business and turned to drugs instead of talking to her and we know how that ended up turning out already.

Molly never really got to transition while alive and spent the remainder of her life after Anthony died more closed off and a bit more sad than she already was. She didn’t entirely shut down but for a few years she absolutely did and eventually separated from her family and tried to pursue herself and her religion further (ie. getting a boyfriend and going to church) While Angel broke many of the 10 commandments, Molly made sure to do her best to respect them and would always pray afterwards. She did end up dying of old age and ended up in heaven, though upon arrival realising her brother was in fact not here was a detrimental blow to her mindset and sets up a bit of the point with how religion can be used both to help grief but also can be used to completely ignore grief as well as coming to terms with the fact those you care for might not always be the best people and sometimes you’re forced to leave them behind because of that.

I have not reached this point in the rewrite yet to figure out how or if Angel gets redeemed at all but I really like imagining them hugging and being shocked at how much the other has changed

[darkhymns-fic]

Disease

Husk yearns for Alastor's attention—but the feeling is overwhelmingly mutual.

That's the thing about jealousy. It's such a disease.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters/Pairing: Alastor/Husk, Vox, Angel Dust Rating: M Word Count: 7,522 Mirror: AO3 Notes: Written for Radiohusk Week, Day 4: Jealousy. This was in collaboration with @indoodlingmadness for their amazing art! (Check it out on bsky and twitter!)

--

1.

-

Half-slouched on the couch in the hotel parlor, Husk swore that the television commercial in front of him was playing on loop. But it was never the exact same, minimal differences here and there, from the background set to the changes in script. There were dozens of different recordings put out on the dot of every hour. Vox’s desperation was so palpable that he could feel it coating his tongue with its slimy texture. Watching this might as well have made his brain bubble and melt within his skull.

The thing was, there really was nothing else good on TV. 

“—And that’s why radio is archaic, boring, and absolutely worthless in today’s modern age!” Vox was holding up another weird stick drawing of the terrifying Radio Demon, somehow getting his smile just right. His desk was shiny, but rattled, the surface of it decorated in claw marks. The neon lights behind him seemed to crack and spark, pulsing in time with Vox’s breathing. Just a few commercials ago, it had been looking new and fresh. “Look at him! You wouldn’t trust that guy in an alleyway!”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the idea,” Husk spoke to the screen, taking a swig of his bottle. In that reception, he saw those antennas spark furiously from that oversized microwave for a head. Televisions were always a two-way deal down here in Hell, and even if the Overlord might have caught his sarcasm just then, he knew he wasn’t the real focus of his ire.

A small crackle that further ruined the reception of the screen. A horrible ruptured feedback that set Husk’s teeth on edge. But his discomfort didn’t match the intensity he saw in Vox’s eyes.

“Oh, Husker. You really should turn such a dreadful thing off. Think of the electricity bill!”

Alastor acted like he hadn’t been watching from afar for the past hour. Husk could tell, just from the very way his fur stood up, from that specific sensation of eyes watching from the shadows. Except, those eyes hadn’t been so directed at him either.

No, just these two Overlords staring at each other from across the room in some weird sickening obsession.

“Don’t you dare shut me off! I know where you sleep!”

“Likewise, old pal!”

When Alastor finally reappeared near the couch Husk sat on, he gave a small wave at the television screen. Another small crackle, one that seemed to make the outdated picture box overheat. Or maybe that was just Vox himself getting all hot and bothered.

Husk rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Was getting bored anyway.” He then reached for the remote that was by his side.

“WAIT I WASN’T DONE–!” Click.

Alastor sighed with a sort of euphoria. “Ah, sometimes, silence can truly be golden.”

“Really? This coming from the guy in love with his own voice.” 

It had only been a few weeks since Vox had tried to get Sir Pentious working as a spy for him, but since that plan had spectacularly failed, the Overlord took things in his own hands. Soon, nearly anything with a screen in the hotel, such as a television set, a phone, and even the fucking fridge because it was using so-called ‘smart technology,’ was filled with the guy’s obnoxious face, shouting the same obscenities over and over to get at Alastor who only passed by such performances. 

Husk was silently grateful to himself that he only moved with the times as far as flip phones and nothing beyond that. He didn’t know what he’d do if he had to wake up to Vox screaming in his ear about Alastor not paying attention to him.

And besides, the Radio Demon was paying attention to him. Even more than usual.

“Ha! Of course anything I say would have some worth, my friend.” Alastor tapped the head of his cane against his palm, sparing another glance to the now dead TV set. “But I truly don’t care what such a low brow television personality has to say about anything!”

Husk took another sip of his drink. The beer tasted more bitter than usual. “That why you didn’t mess with the cameras today?”

And why you let him see you whenever you can?

As he thought this, he let his gaze slide around the room. No, it wasn’t even just the television or the phones that Vox would spy from. A small flash of a camera lens peeked out from the torn wallpaper, another was wedged into a crevice somewhere on the mantelpiece in the parlor. All not so very subtle, not even a little bit. Charlie had wanted to get rid of them, but Alastor had insisted on leaving them in place. She wanted the hotel to be promoted, he reasoned, and now she got it!

But the real reason was because he enjoyed it. His boss liked Vox’s attention.

Husk tightened his grip on the glass bottle. Why was he even thinking about this?

“He can have his little toys if he wants, for there is nothing to hide!” Alastor said with another tinny laugh. “Perhaps he’s seeking a little redemption of his own?”

“You fucking know that’s not the reason,” Husk said, with more venom than he meant to. He couldn’t keep the words in, not with the way they burned his throat. “What do you get out of it?”

At that moment, he wondered if he revealed too much, but his boss simply chuckled before sashaying across the parlor, away from him. Suspicious-looking lights blinked above him, catching his every motion, his every step.

“I’m an entertainer, Husker! At the very least, I can put on a good show!”

“For an audience of one,” Husk countered.

“It doesn’t matter the size of the crowd. One must give it their all!”

He wanted to say something else—to shout something else. But an insistent vibration in his trousers pocket pulled away his attention. He didn’t even see where Alastor went, though likely to where the most screens were.

Husk pulled out the phone, flipped it open. He was greeted to a barrage of text messages in all caps.

[HEY!!11 WHERE’S ALASTOR?! TELL HIM 2 UNBL0CK MY NUMBR! AND 2 GET AN ACTUAL PHONE1!]

With a grimace, Husk gripped the phone until the casing cracked. 

He was so fucking sick of this.

–

Even with the dense crowd at the shaking club, Angel had been able to find Husk—who was predictably sitting right at the bar, already going through his second bottle. Not exactly a hard search.

“Sooo is there a reason ya asked me out here?” Angel said as he pulled up a chair. He was wearing a pink, feathery shawl over his shoulders, completing his outfit with rhinestone-rimmed sunglasses. He leaned over the counter, flicking up his shaded accessories with a finger. “Knew it was only a matter of time before we hit the next level, whiskers.”

Husk gave him a sideways glance, then sighed. His claws tapped against the counter, which continued to vibrate with the beat of some song he never heard of. “I just needed to get out of the hotel. It’s fucking misery.”

Angel gave a cackle, slapping Husk’s shoulder. “Circuits-for-brains getting to you? Baby, it’s way worse in person.”

“I know. I’ve met this guy plenty back then.” It was one of the downsides of being an Overlord—you had to get to know the other Overlords and what territories they held, even if you hated the other’s guts. “He’s somehow gotten worse. Didn’t think that was even possible for that egomaniac!”

Angel already had a cocktail in his hand, sex on the beach style. Husk wondered if he just pulled it out of a purse. “Been meaning to ask ya. Does he and Alastor have some sort of…whatever going on? I know Vox has always been into voyeurism but usually he sort of like, does it to everybody instead of one person.”

Husk waved away the question, scoffing. “Fuck if I should know. They used to be friends or business partners, or whatever.”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “Ohhh, so they definitely have some kinky shit going on!”

Husk didn’t really want to think about it. So what if Alastor was into what Vox was doing? So what if Husk had to see it? It didn’t matter what his boss was into—there was already a laundry list of awful things Alastor craved that turned Husk’s stomach.

And this was no different.

Before he could even think of ordering another bottle, he felt Angel take his wrist, easily slipping him off the stool. His wings spread out to keep his balance, and his tail brushed against Angel’s right leg in reflex. There was the flash of a white and gold-speckled smile before him.

“Look, sourpuss. You didn’t call me out here just so I can watch you drink yourself into a coma. I already see enough of that at the hotel.” Two more hands grasped Husk’s waist, pulling him into the dance floor. “Let’s have some fun already! Then we can get wasted later!”

“Fine, but if you step on my tail, I’m calling it off.” 

Still, Husk couldn’t help but smile a little bit, because like it or not, Angel was oddly good at cheering him up. The guy could be funny, could be charming when he wasn’t putting on his usual persona, and could take his mind off less pleasant things for at least a little while.

And besides, there were other ways to drown out his feelings besides through booze and sleep. Dancing to the club’s beat was a good start.

That is, until one is reminded.

Hours later, at some point in the night, Husk was more than a little drunk, and Angel was hanging off his shoulders, laughing at some nonsense that fell from his lips in chaotic fashion. “So that whole waterboarding thing is already out because the market is so niche, and Val’s pissed! Now we’re back to student-teacher junk, and he just tells me to look younger for it. Like bitch, I’m ageless already!”

It wasn’t even really that funny, but Husk was laughing, unable to stifle it in his chest. Angel just had a knack for telling work stories, which he’d tell even back at the hotel bar.

But he made the mistake of turning away, just for a moment. He only wanted to lean against a table, and didn’t trust his body to not fall on its ass. So he needed to use his eyes, and he happened to find something in the far off corner.

Laughing shadows, with sharp red eyes and wide smiles. One of them moved forth from a puddle of black on the floor, never minding the trash it maneuvered around—of discarded beer cans, wadded up condom wrappers, and spare change that sparkled in the club’s multicolored lights. The shadow was a small thing, a doll covered in stitches that held together its insides, with a stray green thread leading from its back.

It looked straight at Husk, tilted its head to the right. Then more, and more until the top of its horns were level with its nubby shoulder. It was mouthing something at him, its voice drowned out by the club’s music and the shouts of other sinners having the time of their afterlives.

Even so, Husk heard it. The voice pounded in his skull like a persistent beat.

Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.

And then the shadow sunk into the dirty floor, leaving nothing, not even a stain behind.

–

Nothing happened once he and Angel came back to the hotel. No acts of punishment, no pulling of the chain to make him fall to his knees. Husk expected some sort of retribution, for pissing off Alastor for ditching work.

But there were only eyes in his back as he walked back to his room, half-stumbling both from drunkenness and exhaustion—and they weren’t the eyes he expected, or even wanted right now.

In the hallway, Husk saw another camera, one that was perched in the corner. It swiveled, red light blinking. He heard the camera zoom in on him, the electricity sparking inside its metal casing.

With barely a second glance, he threw a card at it, slicing through. It bursted unceremoniously, the light on it growing dark.

Vox’s toys had always been such pieces of trash.

–

The next day, all the cameras in the hotel had disappeared.

Some had been ripped out from their placing within the walls, in the corners of rooms, or wherever else Vox had shown his ugly face on. This included anything with a screen. The television in the parlor was now unequivocally broken, the screen cracked, leaving nothing but static when one tried to turn it on. The ‘smart’ fridge was also completely wrecked, as if it had been torn apart by giant hands. (This also resulted in their food being destroyed, which Husk had to then make a shopping trip for and put it all in a good old icebox). Everyone made sure to hide their phones, but nothing Vox-related was streamed to them besides the occasional malware-infected ad or two.

Even so, Husk still felt eyes in his back. When he worked. When he chatted with others. When he slept.

He knew why. 

A sliver of a shadow that ducked away at the last moment, of burning eyes and short arms. Small bouts of laughter he could barely hear, even in the dead of night. Suddenly, there was intense focus on him. It felt like hands around his neck, keeping him in place, just short of squeezing to cut off his air.

Still, Alastor hadn’t shown up or spoken with him. Instead, the Overlord had locked himself in his radio tower, the ‘ON AIR’ sign always on, blaring in the red-drenched sky.

Yet, when he’d dare turn on the radio in his room—a so-called gift from Alastor, one of old-make, crafted from wood, so that he could contact Husk whenever necessary—and find that dreaded radio station, he couldn’t hear anything. No songs, no screams. Just dead air.

Husk would sometimes sit on his bed, within the dark, waiting. He’d flick a glance to the corners, catch another small shadow doll staring, licking its lips, stifling laughter.

“What do you want?” Husk growled out. “I know it’s fucking you. Is this some new shitty prank of yours? Or are you mad I broke one of those cameras?” A bitter taste poisoning his very insides again. “Come out then and talk to me!”

A small twist of its head, the eyes refracting red light that spilled onto the floor. Another little shake of its body, a smile stretched in a copy of its very master, before it then finally slithered away back into the shadows.

But it didn’t really leave. He could still see the smile. The red eyes. Always in the corners, watching him.

He didn’t understand Alastor’s game anymore.

And he didn’t understand just why he wasn’t hating this as much as he thought he would.

–

Another week passed. Alastor stayed locked in his radio tower. His station only played dead air and nothing else.

The shadow dolls still moved about the hotel, trailing after Husk wherever he went. Even outside, he’d see them crawl along the cracks in the sidewalks, or hang from trees, tracking his every movement. They were rarely subtle now. Always watching.

Yet, there would be nothing else. Just waiting, and waiting for something to happen. To change.

“Still keeping this up,” he once said quietly, polishing a glass at his bar, feeling those eyes again. The little creatures were sentient, and certainly had their own consciousness. But Alastor had always used them to do his bidding, whether that was fixing up a broken wall to trailing down a victim for his next show.

“Can you even see me?” Husk asked next, looking straight at one of those little dolls that was behind a rye bottle on the shelf. This one was slightly larger, with sharp teeth that looked rusted. It was salivating, staring right at him with what looked like a blank gaze. “Or do you just hear me instead?”

Vox was the one with screens, with cameras, with all the voyeuristic tendencies to spy and get every detail he could.

But just as Alastor was a good talker, he was also a good listener. A skilled eavesdropper that didn’t need visuals to get any juicy information he needed. Words and sounds were usually enough for him. Also, he had once told Husk, ‘A great auditory experience will light up the imagination far more than what a picture box could ever do.’

What could Alastor have heard down at the club on that night? There had only been a mess of noise everywhere. No way he would have been able to pick up any sort of conversation.

The doll shifted, tapped its claws against the rye bottle, clinking away at the glass. Its red gaze burned and pulsed. It started to melt away into the darkness.

Husk grabbed at its head before it could leave, wrenching it back up. A glass bottle fell to the floor, spilling out all the rye. But for once in his afterlife, there was something else far more important. 

He dug his claws against its cheeks. It was both soft and slimy at the same time—he could feel the rough fabric that was its skin, the stuffing that poked out from between its stitches. But he could feel something else, something wet and sticky, leaving his hand covered in tar.

“Alastor!” Despite the doll’s wicked teeth, he leaned in close so that nothing could be missed. “Tell me what you want!”

The doll opened its mouth, crying out, before devolving into unhinged laughter. It shook in Husk’s grip like a wriggling insect. If it was trying to say something, he couldn’t understand. Any words were swallowed up by its own laughter, high-pitched and keening.

Then, it stopped. It leaned forward, its red eyes shining bright. “Husker,” it said, its voice an awful mesh of monstrous and electrical, still sounding like it came from some sort of demonic speaker. “Just how obtuse can you be?”

Its red eyes continued to burn, growing hotter, until it engulfed its entire face. Husk felt the flames lick at his fingers, and quickly let go of the doll that had self-immolated in such quickness. It turned to ash before it could even hit the ground.

—

2.

-

Alastor hadn’t left his radio tower because there was something wrong with him.

And it isn’t what everyone would think, of course.

His claws tapped against the metal dials before him, the soundboard of his station buzzing with frequencies to broadcast throughout Pentagram City. Lately, he hadn’t had as much time for his weekly broadcasts, with special Overlord guests to serenade his listeners with their screams of agony and rage. It had been such a popular program, always premiering at 6pm on Friday nights! A perfect lead in to the weekend and truly give his listeners something vital to unwind to. But he had been busy with the hotel, and he wouldn’t give his beloved audience any lackluster performance.

Yet, even so, he would turn on the mic, and let it play absolutely nothing.

He would let it play and play. Saying nothing. Singing nothing. Screaming nothing.

Because he was too preoccupied with listening.

Familiar little steps, along with high-pitched giggling, echoed from his right. He swiftly turned his neck, the bone cracking like kindling. The acoustics of the tower made the sound vibrate, falling along the metal grates, the barred windows, and the red-lit neon sign. In the dim light, he saw one of his precious minions, climbing up the legs of his chair to perch itself on an arm rest.

They were such beautiful, vicious little creatures. Always so eager to please. Always getting him the latest gossip. Always retrieving for him the most suitable guests for his radio program. And, there were few hobbies so relaxing than crafting them himself. A cross stitch for the arms, for the neck, shaping up their little smiles to align so well with his. After all, one must be proud of their own creations.

As the doll’s red eyes started into his, which blazed like the depths of a fireplace, it played back for him something from its open mouth.

“Boss,” spoke a voice, harsh like gravel. “It’s been weeks. Why are you avoiding me?”

Then the doll shut its mouth with a sharp snap, sharp teeth grinding. It snickered, blinking up at its master while its pointed tail wagged.

Alastor considered, tapping his claws against the metal of his station. He would have to make sure his little creatures were more hidden. Husker speaking to him ruined his experience. No, he would just listen in on his dear friend go about his day, speak with the guests, and make sure he had a goodnight’s rest. Simply overseeing, as was part of his own duties as the hotelier. After all, he had to make sure his employees were doing their job.

Darling Niffty could be trusted. But, Husker, on the other hand… he always had such little motivation. He was doing the layabout a favor! He even got rid of those cameras that his friend had complained so much about. There had been no other reason he did such a thing.

None at all.

Then, the doll opened its mouth again, the red eyes pulsing like a heartbeat. Alastor felt the tremor run over his back before he could even comprehend the emotion.

“Hey, whiskers! Talking to yourself again, huh? I ain’t judging.”

Alastor’s smile tightened. That same smile tightened on the doll’s face in perfect mimicry.

That spider was such a distraction for poor, slothful Husker. Yes. That was the problem here. That was why he felt such bile in his throat. Of course. The hotel’s first guest was making Husker the worst he’s ever been.

That was the only thing that made sense.

He quickly closed the doll’s mouth with a thumb. “Enough,” he said, the hum in his mind growing louder. “Such a voice has no place here.”

Yet that accompanying sound was getting much too common lately. It was rather unpleasant to the ears.

Alastor patted the little doll on the head, watching how it leaned into his palm like a pleased cat. Such creations would never disappoint him. He half-regretted bursting one of them into flames before. A lapse in judgment, an indescribable urge to reach out and hurt. Which is not uncommon, for it was something to be nurtured. Yet, not without at least some form of control.

He had done so much listening. He hadn’t broadcasted in a while, or spoke into the mic which was rapidly gathering dust. Just the silence. Not even in the mood for an old comfort song.

There really was something wrong with him.

The doll opened its mouth again, still seeking those pets. It was a mindless action. It had only wanted more of its master’s affection. Then, that harsh and discordant sound that moved through, meshing with the low gravel that he’d come to appreciate the nuances of.

“Ya need me to take you out on the town this time? Being at this bar got you acting like an old geezer more than usual!”

“Ain’t you the one asking out this ‘old geezer’ to begin with?” 

Then, there was a laugh. From Husker.

Alastor couldn’t recall what quite happened after that. The humming had grown louder, shaking within his skull, drowning out conversation and melodies and all other comprehensible things.

He blinked. In his lap were the remnants of cloth and stuffing, along with the unraveling of green threads. Black liquid stained his clothes, dripping onto the floor from those ruined fabrics.

The hold he had on himself was so very, very delicate.

–

Alastor left the radio tower. Just for a moment or two.

It wasn’t enough to just listen anymore.

–

Maybe Husker was jumpier than usual. Still, it only served to heighten the experience.

A quick turn was never enough to catch Alastor. Swift shadows that blended with the dim hallways, with the dark corners of a room. Husker was staring into the darkness, and try as he might, he could not catch the eyes that would follow him.

The dolls, Alastor realized, were just not sufficient.

A fascinating thing about Husker was that all of his tells were shown in every part of him. It was rather amusing that he had ever thought he could keep his secrets. A flick of his ears, a swish of his tail, and the ruffling of his wings. All so telegraphic in their motions. All so easy to read. His downfall as an Overlord might as well have been foretold.

There was a soft rush of nervousness in Husker as he made his way to his room, once again looking to the corners. He even tried to still his breathing. Because after all, he knew he was being listened to.

Husker reached for his hat, slipping it from his head. His fur was ruffled, unkempt. It demanded a comb, a pair of hands to settle such wayward tufts to smoothness. His wings stretched, a loose red feather drifting to the ground, landing rather close to a certain dark corner.

But there was no movement from the dark. Husker was watching, eyes glaring yellow like twin torches.

“Feels like another camera…” he muttered underneath his breath. The end of his tail brushed the carpet. “The hell…’

There was another indescribable urge, one that nearly made Alastor leave from his place within the walls to reach out. More than just the fur, or even the luster of those wings against the soft lamplight. After all, Husker was always so entertaining to have around, and it was more than just his oh-so-sparkling personality.

Maybe a few inches closer, enough to swallow up that feather within a sea of black. Husker had turned away just then to hang his hat on a nearby rack.

But then, there was another shiver, even as Husker slipped off a suspender strap to get ready for bed. A raise of his eyebrow, another flick to the walls of his room. Husker was waiting, piercing through that darkness as much as he could. Oh, he’d always had such sharp eyes. But were they sharp enough?

A strap hung from his trousers, which was now more loosened around his waist. There was a quick flick of his right ear as he tried to pinpoint a sound. Any sound at all.

Then there it was. The dead air that lived in Alastor’s skull, now echoing across the room.

Oh, the control he had over himself was so, so tenuous.

“Wait.” Husker turned, looking towards the radio (and he took such great care of it, Alastor saw, with barely any dust or scuff marks on it) which was turned off. Then he looked around the room again. “You’re here, aren’t you? Like, actually here.”

There was a small tremor in his voice. It would have played beautifully over the radio, of that, Alastor was certain. Yet, he had to admit to himself that somehow such a sound did not translate the expression on Husker’s face. A mix of fear, revulsion, and yet a glint in his eyes. Expectant? Eager?

Husker was waiting.

And although Alastor was typically a very patient man—and one had to be, waiting hours for the perfect opportunity, the perfect moment to deliver his raison d'être—he found himself anxious. How easy it would be to move forward, to reach out and grasp at fur and feathers. It was akin to a hunger that one felt in the pit of one’s stomach, desperate to devour from the inside out.

Husker moved, just slightly, to remove the other suspender strap from his shoulder. His breathing was still rapid, just held inside his throat. Pointed ears flicked again. Every motion drawn out, like a jagged blade over skin, slowly cutting through in its sweet pain. Those golden eyes were hazy, dazed, and he opened his mouth to speak again—

Until, the most obnoxious ringtone he had ever heard broke through the silence. 

Husker seemed to jump several feet in the air, then quickly reached for his pocket, holding up his falling pants with one hand. The melody was inane, inundated with a bass beat that sounded too familiar and like another night when he had caught Husker at his worst.

“Shit! I didn’t—”

But he didn’t have time to hear Husker’s little excuses. The serenity of the moment was over. So he slipped away from the walls, revealing his shape for just a moment before he slipped underneath the closed door. Husker locked eyes with him, but that didn’t matter. He had unfinished business.

–

Out on one of the balconies of the hotel, Angel was looking down to his phone with an impatient frown. He was leaning against the railing, tapping a finger against his waist. “Ugh, did he fall asleep again?”

It was laughably easy to startle him with a simple tap on his shoulder.

“Angel! Fabulous to have caught you here! I thought I missed you!”

If there was a certain tremor in his voice, he was sure to have fully covered it up. One would need sharp ears after all, and he doubted Angel had such things, always deep within his vices to even be aware of the world around him.

Angel backed against the railing, blinking rapidly as Alastor materialized before him. “Holy fuck! You coulda knocked or something!” He breathed hard for a moment, before an odd little smirk stretched his face. “It’s after hours, smiles. Ya looking for a good time? I prefer appointments over walk-ins, so maybe I can pencil you in for a quickie on Tuesday night.”

How charming.

Alastor held his mic cane in both hands behind his back. His fingers ached slightly. Maybe he just hadn’t eaten enough.

Holding himself to the very brink, he moved to wrap a hand around Angel’s shoulders, as if he were an old pal he had run into on the way to dinner.

“Walk with me!”

“Wait, what—”

A swift change of scenery, and soon they were walking the very hotel grounds, up on this stupendous hill that was not at all very accessible-friendly. That fact had always tickled Alastor and how that limited half of the Pride Ring’s residents, but currently, he could find no humor to the situation at hand.

Angel was frozen in place, and Alastor had to dig a few claws into his fluffy shoulder before he had the inkling that he should be walking right now.

“It certainly seems you’ve been taking Charlie’s dear friendship exercises to heart! I think she would love to hear some feedback on how you’ve been using this for your personal life!”

“Uh,” Angel started, then paled when he saw Alastor’s smile as they walked further down the hill. “Well, I, uh—”

“It would seem maybe redemption is in the cards after all! A shame that not everyone can achieve such a lofty goal, and to be quite frank, ha! I still have my doubts. But who knows! You very well could prove me wrong!”

“Did…did I do something? I’m not sure I—”

“And with the addition of my faithful staff, it has helped Charlie’s wacky dream considerably! You could almost call it a handout! I’m sure that’s something you’re quite used to yourself!”

Angel was trying to subtly leave his grip but Alastor kept him in place. For he was not done talking, and he wouldn’t allow Angel to be rude.

“But when one excels, sometimes another starts to make mistakes. Or fall through the cracks as it were! It would be rather shameful if all your progress was worsening another soul’s fortune.”

“Hold on, the hell are you talking about?” At that, Angel suddenly grew an attitude. He frowned at Alastor, slightly looking down at the Radio Demon. Those gaudy shoes of his were indeed good for something. “Are you blaming me for someone else fucking up? I’ve literally just been here and at work the whole time!”

“Haha! A nice little fib, but you can’t pull the wool over these eyes! If Husker’s work performance suffers, I will have to bring my complaints to Charlie and brainstorm a solution. We wouldn’t want to disappoint her now, would we?”

So invested in his own explanations, that certainly made sense to any sane individual, he hadn’t realized he’d let slip his very reasoning for being here.

“Huh? This is about Husk?” Angel was becoming cocky, shrugging off Alastor’s hold on him, uncaring that the action was rough. “Look, I don’t know what dead cannibal carcass crawled up your ass, but if Husk had any problems with me, he’d just fucking tell me. He ain’t like you, smiles.”

Something ruptured—a sound inside his skull. The static sharpening and gouging through his insides, like a rusted ax hacking away at a leg and ruining the meat until it was a sodden mess.

It’s wrong.

Alastor shifted and turned, and made sure to look down at Angel now. Until he was like the small insect that he was, with scrawny, tepid meat on fragile bones that would barely be satisfactory as a midnight snack.

“You don’t know anything.”

Angel stared, the wind of his earlier outburst suddenly deflating him. He stepped back, crushing one of the many plants that decorated the hillside, its lavender petals mingling now with the blood-stained grass.

“W-wait a sec—”

“If you haven’t seen someone at their very lowest, you can’t claim to know them.” A small twist of his neck as he continued to look down, and then he felt that very delicate grip on his instincts start to loosen. “You will never know how it is to hold someone’s very soul in your own hands.”

Yet, before he could even think to do the unspeakable, as he had done numerous times before with no remorse, and certainly it would not start now—especially not now—a melody played through the air.

It came from his radio tower.

Feeling the grin on his face begin to shake, he turned, feeling the pulse of the airwaves beat inside his very bones. The melody came from the soft, low tones of a saxophone. How it glided through the air like honey, or like thick blood that flowed down one’s throats. It was of an old song too, the kind that would only play on his radio programs.

What a curious thing to suddenly calm his violent bout of bloodlust.

With a quick glance to Angel, who had remained frozen in fear, he then reached out a hand to him. The size of his palm could have enveloped Angel twice over, could have crushed him into paste that would take this so-called actor decades to recuperate from.

He patted Angel on the head, the way he’d do for a pet. The other flinched but didn’t dare try to run. Good.

“Let’s not do this again,” Alastor said before he left, vanishing into the dark.

–

There was a certain image that Alastor would like to keep close to him, for it was the same as when he saw Husker on that night, when the gambler would love to entertain his very own guests. After all, he was a showman at heart, a much more natural talent at it than poorly cheating at cards.

He saw it once again in his radio tower, sliding up through the grates and spotting Husker within the sound booth. The saxophone in his arms as he played a resonant melody against the mic, careful to not be too close as to cause feedback. Even without his suit, he was the very picture of that night. He said nothing at all, preferring to hear the end of the song, determined to not interrupt a performance.

But Husker was always one to be a contrarian, for before he could even finish the final verse, he stopped playing. He then removed the strap of the saxophone and threw the instrument to the side with a clatter.

Then, he turned to Alastor, gritting his sharp teeth. “Now can we finally talk?”

A twitch in his eye, but the hands on his mic cane remained calm. Collected. There was nothing wrong. There was something wrong.

Husker’s eyes were digging through him, waiting impatiently. It was so clear by the flicking of his tail and the very low growl in his throat.

Alastor shrugged. “Why, you could have just called on the phone if you wanted to talk, Husker! Or even come over for a visit! I’m only down the hallway!”

Husker paused, then deepened his frown. “Your phone doesn’t work. And I did come by. I knocked.”

“Hm. I didn’t hear anything.”

“Oh fuck off with this.” Husker stomped over to him, his claws scratching against the metal grates. The red highlighted his fur with deeper shades of ebony, lengthening the patterns of his wings. “Just what is going on with you?”

Alastor moved his gaze to the discarded instrument on the ground. To think Husker still took care of it well enough for it to emit such a soulful sound. “Why did you stop playing?” he asked suddenly.

“What? Because I’m not here to put on a show for you! Stop fucking deflecting. It’s annoying.” Husker furrowed his brows. “Did you do something?”

“What an incredibly broad question! I certainly did a little broadcasting, completed my hotel duties, sent a telegram to Charlie, and indulged in some private musings of my own.” Alastor tapped his chin with a sharp finger, definitely not feeling like he was hanging on by a very thin thread. “I also ordered some hors d’oeuvres from dear old Rosie for a light lunch. You can join me!”

“That’s not…” And then, Husker was suddenly being very hesitant, very careful. He looked up at Alastor like he was about to attempt a treacherous climb. “What happened when Angel called me? Can you tell me that?”

Oh, he used to be so good at listening.

But now, all he could hear was the dreaded hum that made his chest feel like it was caving in.

It was a natural progression, to move closer to Husker, even as his friend stepped back. Yet, isn’t this what he was asking for? He’d always been such an indecisive person! Alastor always had to put his foot down and ensure Husker would make the correct choice. The only sensible choice.

Soon enough, Husker stopped moving—the tendrils that wrapped around his legs were certainly helping him with that.

“Husker, dear!” Alastor spoke, and he could hear the odd hollowness in his tone. It lacked the usual punch of his oratory talent. The spark. The drive. This had to be rectified. “I have to confess something, if you don’t mind.”

Saying it was like ripping off a bandaid, or ripping off a limb. Neither could compare.

“It appears I might be jealous.”

His hands delicately wrapped over Husker’s neck, fingers tapping along the fur, pulling at the strap of his bowtie. Husker remained still, watching the dials in Alastor’s eyes click dangerously to the right. Slow and methodical. Inevitable.

“And jealousy can really feel like such a disease.” He leaned forward. “I need the cure.”

There was something wrong with him and the cause of it all was right in front of him.

Angel was an obnoxious pest, but if not for Husker, he would have barely given such a sinner any second thoughts. No. If not for Husker, who had dared let himself wander, get distracted, and slack on the job, he would not be feeling this way. Husker just would not behave.

And then, the very memory of Husker laughing uproariously, his deep tones traveling through Alastor’s skull alongside Angel’s voice, was so very loud. With such sounds, there was the image of his friend underneath the garish club lights, looking away to another, and it sparked another inferno in him. Furious. Outraged. HE SHOULDN’T BE FEELING THIS WAY.

His hands just stopped short of squeezing over Husker’s neck. He towered further, his fingers growing long, and his back hunched. There was only Husker in his vision and nothing else. The shadow tendrils that streamed from his back continued wrapping around Husker’s limbs, locking him from any escape. No, he was not allowed to leave. Not until he fixed this.

Not until he fixed him.

Alastor stared down at the soul before him, his very being craving something he couldn’t truly understand. The weight of his antlers were so heavy, nearly making his neck break. His control was slipping further and further away.

“See what you’ve done to me.”

He expected Husker to resist, to try to run, or even bite at his hands and earn him a mark. If he did any of those things, Alastor would have no choice. He would have to kill him. Eat him. Ensure he could never stray from his path again. Bind him further and further until it could never be undone.

That wasn’t what happened.

Husker continued to look at him, even when Alastor grew, when his body distended, when his face was a veritable nightmare. He always had a face for radio, certainly the kind that most souls could not endure for very long. There were many times Husker had turned away from him, from his carnage and his rage.

Instead, Husker craned his neck up, looking into his eyes which were nothing now but black holes that looked into the abyss. His arms shifted, slightly pulling against the tendrils that were coiled around them—but not to be free. Hands reached out to place them against Alastor’s cheeks, fingers so close to sharp teeth who knew just the right way to tear through flesh efficiently.

Husker still hadn’t turned away, even as Alastor could feel him continue to shake underneath his grip. Fear. It was fear. Except not. It was something else.

“If you need a cure, then just look at me.” A soft furrow of his eyebrows, even as Alastor’s breath moved through his fur. “You want my attention? You got it. I was trying to give it to you all this time.”

Oh. Was that true? It made little sense. Alastor said nothing, staring down at Husker who still saw him as the monster he was, yet would not move.

Then, a soft growl, and Husk’s claws pricked his cheeks. Not deep, but they drew blood. They drew his blood. Noise ruptured around them, even as Alastor remained still. Husk ignored the chaotic sound.

“But you have to do the same for me. You have to pay attention to me. No more peacocking for Vox. It drives me fucking nuts.” Another growl, one that ran down Alastor’s spine. “And you don’t have to lock yourself away just to watch me.”

And there was that same spark in his eyes that Alastor felt inside his chest. The kind that wrung at his organs and made him ache and stumble. So, Husker knew this feeling too.

Hands left Husker’s neck, only to plant themselves on the wall behind him. The slam of his palms on metal earned another shiver in Husker, from his ruffled wings to the waving of his tail.

But those claws were still on Alastor’s face, keeping him in place. Keeping him grounded.

Easy to stay a monster, but Alastor let his body shrink so that he could better press his forehead against Husker’s.

“Vox is a memory,” he said.

“A memory that keeps coming back,” Husker countered. “You play his games too much.”

“Simply to stave off boredom.” The tendrils moved to wrap around Husker’s torso. “You’re not blameless. Always slacking off.”

“You already knew I was a shitty employee. Don’t expect any different.”

“Not what I meant.”

A small ripple of unease, but Husker made him calm by pulling Alastor closer. Those claws rushed through his hair, reaching just at the base of his still heavy antlers.

“I can have friends. You never said I couldn’t. But it won’t be anything more than that.” A pause, Husker’s face so considerate. “I can take a break from it.”

Another pull, until Alastor felt Husker’s breath against his lips. “I’m just fucking tired of not being noticed, boss.”

“Dear friend, you have all my attention,” Alastor said. “So much that you won’t ever have a moment’s peace to yourself.”

Maybe he said that as a warning. To really test Husker’s dedication and loyalty. That is, until Husker kissed him hard, his teeth scratching against both his tongue and gums. It was difficult to reject such enthusiasm, such drive, such…motivation. He could only give it back, tasting the alcohol on Husker’s own tongue.

The antidote must be taken slowly and deeply after all.

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Charlie as an underdeveloped character

One thing I was genuinely dissapointed by when watching Hazbin Hotel was that they never cared to dive into Charlie's Morality more.

I feel like a lot of people can agree that Charlie felt very flat/sidelined in a show she was supposed to be the main character of and I think that that's because they ran out of Character Moments for her. Her Backstory is pretty much just infodumped at the start so there's nothing you can really explore there (except for her relationship with her parents ig but they only really brought that up and resolved it in one episode). Alastor has the mystery behind him of what his goals really are, Angel Dust has his arc about standing up to his abuser, Vaggie has her dramatic backstory reveal thing and Sir pentious gets focus as the one real guest at the hotel and with his goal to be redeemed.

Charlie really has no conflict at all, which is weird since the whole plot is that her idea is relentlessly mocked and never succeeds until the end. But she doesn't have a personal conflict. All the issues she faces come from the ignorance of the people around her who don't support her, but never from who she is. She never has to change. They try to hint at this with her being possibly invasive and not respecting boundaries in the Angel Dust and Valentino episode. But the episode doesn't focus on her and Angel as they talk it out and she realizes how she might have to change as well (from how I remember it). It focuses on Husk and Angel's relationship instead.

I feel like the easiest route they could've taken for her character was that of a moral dilemma. Charlie believes in second chances and being able to change demons and her opposite is Adam, who doesn't think demons should be redeemed and should just be killed instead. But it's never specified if Charlie truly believes everyone deserves a second chance or if there are restrictions to that. Adam sings a song in the first episode and explaines his reasoning for why he believes demons shouldn't be saved, which is that they had their chance to be good and didn't choose it and now they can't expect another one (I guess the real reason is that he's just an asshole who doesn't care but that's because Vivzepop can't write Villains so I'll just pretend like that's his real reason).

The problem is that Adam is presented as fully in the wrong and I just don't agree with that. I'm not saying he's right with killing random demons of course but the show never takes the time to consider that sometimes people go to hell because they are actually terrible and have done inexcusable things. Like yeah, someone who had an addicition or a mental health problem while they were alive obviously doesn't deserve eternal suffering without any chance for redeemability, but we know that those aren't the only people that go to hell (in the pilot it's literally confirmed that real life criminals like Jeffrey Dahmer are also down there).

The show blatanly shows us characters like Valentino who are shown to do irredeemable things and be purely evil.

My question is just if Charlie would also look at someone like Valentino and say: "Yeah they deserve to be saved and get a second chance". She obviously thinks Valentino sucks, which we see in the Episode were she meets him.

So like, what would she have done if in the second episode someone like him stood at their door and wanted to be redeemed instead of Sir Pentious. Does she draw a line? Or would she have really heard him out? Her morality with this "everybody deserves a second chance" attitude is so underexplored even though it would have been the perfect place to develop her more. If they had confronted her with an actually tough situation, where she is presented with a truly terrible person, they could've had two interesting ways to take her character.

She could've accepted the person and with that she'd have taken her role a fully 'good' saviour for the demons. Someone who is truly without judgement, or atleast believes that there is good in everyone that just has to be brought out. Which would've also given room to think about if people like that are even inherently good, if they can 'excuse' the actions of terrible people and still want to help them. This would have made her a very extreme character in her believes, but something coherent and definitive is actually something Charlie desperately needs for her characterization.

The other way would've had her reject the person and with that she would have to face the idea that maybe Adam isn't fully wrong. In that situation she would have found herself in a similar position to the Angels in heaven, where she basically is the one deciding over what's acceptable and what isn't. This could lead to her having a moral dilemma. Is she even a good person if she's deciding what's moral and what isn't? Can she just be okay with making exceptions to her idea to protect her people? Does she even want to view EVERY demon as her family? Or does she think there are some demons that maybe deserve death?

I'm just really dissapointed that the show takes such an interesting idea and such a difficult topic and then just does nothing with it. What we view as bad and good and which people we judge harder than others will always depend on social norms and the situation. It's a topic with no real right and wrong answer because there are so many things to consider. But this moral grey conflict that is literally one of the MAIN CONFLICTS in Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly underwritten, that it's not even funny.

Instead of acknowledging the difficulty of the subject Hazbin does what it does best and takes the easy route with seemingly clear right and wrong sides. This is especially stupid, since morally grey characters are supposed to be the point of the show. Like there are these demons who have done bad things and who aren't perfect, but that doesn't make them bad people. Its about revealing that a person has layers (which the writing doesn't). This is also a big point in Helluva Boss, where characters like Blitzø or Stolas who mess up repeatedly, are supposed to be shown as still having interests, aspirations, and good things to them.

The easy route which is taken constantly in both shows however makes it so that Charlie is completely in the right and anyone who criticises her is one of the evil people who try to ruin her plan, just like Adam. Who's also such a straw man for anyone who even dares to bring any objection to Charlies ideas, because everyone who does is apparently a hypocrite who just doesn't understand her and would rather side with genocide (I wonder were Vivzepop takes her inspiration from).

Charlies writing was just really dissapointing with almost never any reflection being done on her part. She doesn't have really striking moments, discussions or ideas to her in a show she's supposed to lead. That's just an issue that comes with Vivzepop never really putting as much work into her female characters, even tough they would desperately need it.

I know that only the first season is out so far, but I highly doubt thay they'll bring up a discussion like this in s2. Especially since Adam is dead now and the Angels will probably try to work more with the demons, after Sir Pentious' redemtion and the reveal of the exterminations to them. Also the Vees, Lillith and Alastor will be more of focus from what we can assume by the ending scenes.

I just don’t like that Viv can take interesting conflicts and write them to be completely one-dimensional and boring.

[lbcreations-blog]

Hihihiiii!!! Just saw that you needed more requests so I was wondering if you could do some headcanons and maybe a small drabble for Sir Pentious, Vox, and Lucifer with an S/O who gifts them their drawings as a way to show their love? If this is too much, feel free to ignore:]

🍵

Omg I love this request sm

Vox and sir pentious might be ooc (especially Vox)

Masterlist

Drawings for love

Dude, when you gave the first drawing to him, he was blushing so hard

Homeboy loves them so much

He's probably going to probably ether show it off to the others or protect it like it's his lifeline (idk I thought he'd react or whatever like that, ok)

Man will put it on his wall of his ship on the inside (duh) so he can look at it when he's working

And when you give him more man's loves you

He generally wants more he loves them so much

But do not give him too much at the same time. My man might die (again) from a blushing heart attack (hopefully that makes sense)

Bro was so confused when you first gave it to him

What are you, a child?

Once you get sad and stuff for him acting like that, he'll freak out, not wanting to make you sad in any way

He'll, then comfort you and say he likes it a lot (which he does)

Now he might ether hang it up somewhere in the tower, in pride that you love him so much that you drew smthn for him

Or he won't hang it up in a somewhat embarrassment, something down that line

But all in all, this man appreciates the drawings and finds it really cute

When you gave the first drawing to Lucifer, let me tell you this man fucking loves it, he was blushing so hard

When you give him more, this man was so happy

He is probably going to put most of them on the walls

In general, he's going to put all the drawings where he can see them

He's also going to bost about the fact that his lover gave him drawings for love

Also, since you made the drawings for him, he is going to make things for you like ducks out of love (even tho I think this man did this to you from like the start)

Well, that's it, ik it's short, but yea

Uh, bye-bye

Taglist: @fatherlesschild2 @whitewingsh @iheartpieck @i-yuki

Taglist request section

-L.B Creations

[yanderes-galore]

Ok, this might be a weird one, but what about a yandere redeemed Petentious, with a soul who just arrived in heaven?

Oh now I feel he's just even more of a sweetheart- @okchijt helped with some final thoughts near the end.

Yandere! Redeemed! Sir Pentious with Angel! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Manipulation, Jealousy, Guilt-Tripping, Dubious companionship/relationship.

By the time you meet, Sir Pentious probably has gotten a bit used to Heaven.

It's nothing like Hell, that's expected, and he misses his friends.

Although Sera and Emily have been helping him the best they can.

He isn't quite sure what to do when he meets another new soul.

A new soul in Heaven can mean two things.

You've arrived from Earth and have always been good... or you're another redeemed soul from Hell.

The second option would mean Sir Pentious could've known you... but not necessarily.

I like the idea that as an angel he's nervous yet eager to try and be... good.

When he meets you, an equally new angel, he probably even gets ecstatic about it.

He's excited at the idea of welcoming a new soul, almost similar to Emily.

Sera warns the two other angels to be careful as Sir Pentious is still under watch.

Sir Pentious listens, yet can't contain the excitement.

He's probably someone who always thrives off praise, so he wants to do good with you.

I feel Sir Pentious doesn't change a lot as an angel... yandere-wise.

He's still clingy, easily excited, and eager to please.

So, to Sera and Emily, him being excited to meet a new angel isn't too out of the ordinary.

They only have to step in when Pentious starts to overwhelm you on the first meeting.

Sir Pentious probably begs to show you around, wanting to make a new friend out of you.

As a Sinner he was rather oblivious to innuendos and seemed too... incapable of being evil.

So maybe his place really was here?

Unless someone told you he was originally a Sinner, you wouldn't believe it.

As Sir Pentious leads you around, he's radiating excitement.

Pentious seems like he'd ramble all about the machines he used to tinker with and even say he's new to the whole friend thing.

Pentious is not a dangerous yandere, whenever he tries to be, he ends up failing.

He's clingy and easily jealous, but mostly just tries to please.

Whenever you react positively to his interests, Pentious lights up.

He can't believe he's impressing a new angel such as yourself.

It's a good thing his behavior was never that intense, as angels wouldn't be able to hide intense yandere behavior (Murder, Kidnapping, Etc.)

So he's very subtle.

Sir Pentious would be very caught up in the idea of you two being close.

He seems like an obsession at first sight kind of guy.

He sees his new angel obsession and is constantly following them like a lost puppy.

He often pleads with Sera to guide you around Heaven, clearly wanting to cultivate some sort of bond with you.

It feels really weird to say... but he's just so innocent.

He's unaware he's being too touchy at times with your wings or just you in general.

If you tell him to give you space, he reluctantly does with quick apologies.

It's hard to call him a yandere at times.

That's because he's very limited in what he can do in Heaven, while also naturally being more submissive.

The most I can see him doing is manipulating you into being beside him all the time.

For example, you're both technically new angels.

Shouldn't you explore Heaven together?

Sera and Emily no doubt have to keep an eye (or a few of them) on Pentious when they realize how clingy he is.

He was a Sinner after all... perhaps they sense a certain darkness stirring within him?

Sir Pentious keeps glaring at other angels, often accidentally drawing attention to you and him.

Sera would find the snake's obsession problematic.

Imagine if she tried to separate you two in an attempt to prevent conflict.

Only for Pentious to find a way back to you, slithering around you like you belong there.

If Pentious got any more intense (unlikely) then he may genuinely be kicked from Heaven.

That would separate you both indefinitely while Sera checks you over to see if you were corrupted in any way.

This would also drive Sir Pentious insane if I'm being honest.

The good thing is, you can control him easily.

He listens to you and lives for your attention.

He won't hurt anyone (hopefully)... but he will barge in on conversations to grab your attention like normal.

Pentious probably doesn't have hypnosis anymore, but even if he did he wouldn't want to use it unless he felt he had to.

Any underhanded tactics could get him in trouble.

So, Pentious sticks with keeping close and trying to steal your attention whenever he can.

If you ignore him, he finds a way to slither back into your gaze.

It's hard to hate him or be annoyed for long as you just feel... bad?

He tries so hard to set up little hangouts, saying he does it for you.

His manipulation relies heavily on guilt.

Pentious tries to convince you his jealousy is normal, that he feels betrayed that you'd spend time with other angels than him.

Pentious would give you puppy eyes to make you stay beside him.

Please stay a bit longer...

Please allow him to treat you...

Please allow him to care for you...

Please stop paying attention to other angels...

Please, please, please, PLEASE...!

Pentious will tug at your heart strings and expect you to relent.

Since you're such a good soul, you listen.

Which ends up tying you to him.

The awful thing about Pentious as a yandere is the fact you feed into it.

You defend him, you coddle him, because you can't imagine him doing anything wrong.

Even when someone like Sera tries to reprimand him or warn you of his behavior, you defend him.

He's your first friend in Heaven so of course you would...!

You want to defend him since he tries so hard to prove himself.

He's a better person! Nothing wrong here!

You don't realize your pity and protective nature has led you into a trap until it's too late.

Pentious doesn't even mean to guilt you half the time.

He's oblivious to his toxicity.

His whole yandere behavior is unintentional.

Yet he somehow succeeds.

Pentious doesn't even have to do much to get his way.

His natural behavior ends up drawing you in...

Locking you beside him just because you can't bear the idea of saying no to him.