#alastor: I live to take over hell haha

[danveration]

Wherever you go, I won't be far to follow

Parings: Creepy!Vox x GN!reader

Summary: Vox is obsessed with you and he uses his VoxTek to stalk you

Word count: 1437

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, one mention of Vox getting a hard-on, Vox being delusional, jealousy, k*lling, Vox jerking off

A/N: First time writing for Vox!! I got this idea from some amazing person on discord:’) I immediately went insane w the idea and had to write it up

“I can’t get them out of my HEAD!” He yells angrily, banging his fists on the table.

Valentino and Velvet have noticed his behaviour towards you and tried to talk sense into him.

“They’re nothing special, Vox! Just another sinner. Get over them.”

“You tell us to not ruin our reputation but look at you. You’re a mess.”

“Maybe just.. go talk to them? Instead of being a fucking creep.”

Vox doesn’t listen. He wants to know what you’re doing 24/7 and who you’re doing it with. He has cameras set up everywhere. In your room, bathroom, hotel (as you’re currently living at the hazbin hotel), the street lights. Absolutely everywhere. He doesn’t want to meet you just yet, not until he learns everything about you so he can charm you off your feet.

You don’t even know him. You’ve heard of him through hell, yes. But you’ve never actually seen him face to face. Alastor has told you all that he isn’t anything to worry about, in which you believe him. Apparently he owns all the electronics in hell or something like that? You’ve seen posters of him and you think it’s kinda neat how he has a full on tv head as a face. But other than that, you never gave much thought to him.

———————————————————————

Today was just another day. You woke up, took a shower, went downstairs to have breakfast, and hung out at the hotel. Nothing of which you thought anything of, it’s just a normal boring day.

But Vox on the other hand thought differently. He thought everything you did was the most exciting, interesting thing ever.

“Oh! Fuck fuck fuck, they’re waking up.” He says, getting closer to one of the MANY tv screens he has in this room.

He looks at you in awe, touching the tv screen gently.

“So fucking cute when they’re waking up. Look at them, my god.” He whispers.

He watches you as you get out of bed, yawning. Watches you get undressed, and into the shower.

“Such a perfect body. I’d treat you so right. Better than anyone else could.” He says as he watches you wash yourself. He feels himself get a hard-on, but ignores it. He needs to have all his attention on you.

Watching you shower, learning your routine and what product you use, he stores all the information in one of his computer folders.

After you get out, he watches you choose what clothing to wear.

“Aww, that’s my favourite top on you.” He says in awe.

Then, you go downstairs to eat and hangout with your fellow hotel members.

Vox knows all your favourite foods and least favourite foods, to when you come over to live with him one day. He wants everything to be perfect. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

“You’re gonna haaavee..” He starts while you’re picking out what to eat.

“Fruit with cereal!” He shouts just as you pick it up.

“HAHA! Fucking knew it.” He says.

After you eat, he watches you interact with people.

He hates it. Hates when you talk to other people. What if they get too close to you? What if you like them more than him? So many thoughts cross his mind.

“Oh don’t you dare talk to-“ He starts while you’re walking up to Alastor.

You start talking to Alastor about something and Vox’s eye twitches.

He remains keeping his cool, but inside he wants to march over there and take you away. But he can’t do that, can he? That would be a horrible first impression! Even though he’s sure you’d fall for him in no time, he can’t risk it.

Right now, you’re sitting on a chair, scrolling through your phone.

Of course, Vox has hacked your phone too. He has another tv in which he can see exactly what you see.

He’s intently watching you play Angry Birds, when an ad comes up. Not just any ad, but a VoxTek ad.

You’re intrigued because this is the “Vox” you’ve heard of. You click it and Vox almost falls over.

“OH MY GOD. YOU-“ He scrambles to get as close as possible to the screen.

You start scrolling through the VoxTek website. It seems pretty cool, honestly. There’s a lot of “Trust us.” quotes, which you find kinda suspicious. But nonetheless, you’ve been wanting a new laptop since yours broke a while back. Why not give it a go?

You find a good priced laptop that actually seems like it’ll work really well, so you decided to buy it online.

Vox’s eyes widen.

“YOU- I-“ He stares in shock. You bought something from HIS website. You KNOW about him, it’s confirmed now.

He has the great idea to hand-deliver you the laptop. That’s a great first impression isn’t it?

He jumps up and goes to put on his best outfit. Making sure he looks 11/10. He cleans his screen, puts a mint in his mouth, and walks to the room where they keep all their product, finding the one you ordered.

He looks to his right, seeing the one you ordered, but then he looks down and sees one that’s 10x the money you paid for that one, and it’s their BEST laptop. It has so many features that he knows you’ll use. It’s their most high end product. He’s gotta give you that one instead. You deserve it.

He picks it up and puts it into a box, sealing it and putting a nice red bow on it. He kisses it and walks out.

“Vox? Where are you going? You’re looking quite fancy.” Valentino stops him as he’s about to walk out of the building.

“Oh nowhere!” Vox answers as he walks out. He doesn’t want Val to give him a hard time about this.

Val looks in question, but just walks off.

As Vox is walking to the hotel, he’s rehearsing his lines.

“Ah! Y/n. Hello there, I’m here to give you your laptop.” He mumbles. “No that sounds so fucking.. Hi, Y/n! Here’s your laptop.”

He mumbles a bunch of fraises when finally, he arrives on the doorstep.

He adjusts his bow tie and takes a deep breathe, knocking on the door.

You perk up at a knock on the door, you’re the only one at the hotel right now, other than Niffty. You go to answer it, wondering who it’ll be.

As you open the door, Vox’s heart stops.

It’s.. Vox? That tv guy! That’s weird, you literally just ordered a laptop from his site about 20 minutes ago.

He’s staring at you, mouth open.

“Uh.. hello?” You say with a questionable tone.

“Oh! Oh, shit. Hi! I’m here to hand deliver you that laptop you ordered.” He chuckles. “Well, actuallyyy, I got you a better one.” He whispers that last part.

You’re very confused. Do they hand deliver every laptop that someone buys?

“Oh um.. thank you! Thanks a lot.” You say, reaching out to take the box.

“Oh of course!” He says with a smile, handing it over to you.

“Do you like the bow? I picked it out just for you, Y/n.” He says.

You feel a weird sensation in your stomach when he says your name. How’d he..? I guess you have to put your name in the website when you order it. So that’s probably how he knows your name!

“Oh yeah! It’s.. a great bow.” You chuckle awkwardly.

You stand their in silence as he’s looking at you, seemingly so to be admiring you.

He realizes this is probably weird for you and takes a step back.

“Well! Haha. It was nice to meet you.” He says with a smile, sticking out his hand for you to shake.

Adjusting the box to hold it with one hand, you take your other one and shake his hand. As you do, you feel an electric shock.

“S-sorry about that.” He says, pulling his hand away.

“Oh it’s alright, don’t worry!” You answer, finding it kinda interesting.

Vox’s internal monologue is screaming. He just TOUCHED your hand. He’s never washing this hand. Ever.

He doesn’t want to leave but he knows he overstayed his welcome. It doesn’t matter though, he will see you again soon. There will be more meetings, more and more and more until you beg to see him.

“Cya, Y/n!” He waves at you, walking away with a satisfied smile.

“Bye!” You say, walking inside.

He goes home and jerks off to the hand you touched, moaning your name and cumming all over himself.

He’s got it bad for you.

[babyfoxflower]

hi! making a request for alastor x f!reader! maybe where alastor has a nasty jealous side and takes it out on reader????? in a good way of course 👀 just a bit of an idea!

Ooooooo! I love this idea!

Jealousy

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Jealous & Possessive Alastor, Groping, Scratching, Biting, Blood Drinking, Oral (Fem! Receiving), P in V Sex, Cervix Fucking, Creampie, Also a little fluff at the end because I couldn’t help myself

“Well, well, well, looks like someone has a death wish, touching what’s mine,” Alastor’s tone was menacing as he narrowed his eyes at the man who had just briefly brushed against you.

His scleras were turning from red to black, and you knew what that meant. He was about to murder this man. He’s always like this but it gets worse when he drinks. When another man even just glances at you, he becomes a feral animal.

“Alastor, my love, it was just an accident,” you said trying to calm your overly jealous boyfriend.

“Haha, accident? I saw the way this wretch was looking at you from across the bar and now he has the gall to dare to come near you, the Radio Demon’s lady…” Alastor’s antlers were now growing, and you knew that you had to get him out of here before things escalated further.

The man was frozen where he stood.

You took Alastor by the face, “Come on, honey, let’s go home,” you gently whispered into his big fluffy ears, “let’s go home and you can do whatever you want to me, claim me as your own.”

Alastor looked at you and grinned largely and then he turned back to the man who was shaking in his boots, “You get to live this time. But if I ever see again, I’ll fucking tear your soul apart and broadcast your misery for all of Hell to hear. Hahahaha.”

You took Alastor by the hand and led him out of the bar.

All the way back to the hotel, Alastor wouldn’t stop groping you. He squeezed your ass and your tits, and kept kissing up and down your neck. You just let him though because you preferred him like this to when he was slaughtering someone. Plus if you were being honest, it was turning you on and you could feel your panties getting soaked by the minute.

Once you got back to your room, Alastor ripped your dress off of you and pushed you onto the bed. “Tell me, my dear, who do you belong to?”

“You, Alastor. I’m all yours.”

“That’s right, very good,” he said as he cut off your bra with his claws.

He removed his gloves to get a better feel of your mounds, he massaged them with his palms. You let out a little mew.

“Heh, I guess it feels good then?”

You nodded.

“But, I know my darling. I know you prefer pain with your pleasure,” he said before lightly digging his sharp claws into the tops of your breasts over the scars from the previous times.

“Fuck! It stings so good,” you cried out.

He chuckled darkly, before dragging them down to just before your nipples as he knew you had places that you didn’t like to scratched. He pulled his claws out of your tits and watched the beautiful blood start rolling down.

“Looks delicious,” Alastor licked his lips.

He ran his tongue across your chest, lapping up your oh so yummy blood. The sweet taste of iron filled his mouth and he moan profusely. You, yourself couldn’t help but moan and groan. You bucked your hips and rubbed your clothed cunt against his pants tent.

“Could that other man make you feel this good?” He asked.

You shook your head, “No, no only you can make me feel like this, baby!”

“You’re being so good tonight, my pretty pet. Saying all the right things. Letting me have my way with you. That deserves a reward, wouldn’t you agree?”

Before you could answer him, he was already kissing his way down to your belly and from there that special place between your legs. He tore off your panties with his mouth, “Look at that, so wet already, are we?”

You felt that familiar sting as he dragged his claws up your inner thighs. You threw your head back as you enjoyed every last bit of the pleasurable pain that raising through you, sending tingles up your spine. He planted a gentle kiss on your clit, knowing that it would drive you mad.

“Please, Alastor!” You begged.

“Please, what, my dear?”

“Give me oral pleasure, please!”

“Well, you did say the magic word.”

He started off with little kitten licks but that soon turned to long strokes up and down your labia. The lewd wet sounds mixed with your lovely moans filled the room.

Alastor began rubbing circles into your bud of nerves while still keeping his other hand gripped tightly on your thigh. He teased your entrance for what seemed like ages before finally shoving his long inhuman tongue into your weeping puss.

He reached it deep inside of you until he reached that spot. He started spelling the alphabet over it again and again with his tongue until you saw stars. You screamed out as toes curled and you came undone all over his face. He drank up all the juices that poured out of you.

“Tastier than venison and jambalaya combined,” he hissed.

Quickly, he removed his clothing and made you touch your knees to your chest as his forehead touched yours. He eased his thick member that was already dripping precum inside of you. Once your walls adjusted, he started pounding in and out of your cunt. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each hard thrust.

He moaned your name before kissing you passionately. Your lips moved in sync with each others, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste yourself. You could feel yourself coming undone again.

“Bite down on me, darling,” he said exposing the crook of his neck to you.

You obeyed and bit down as hard as could, the sweet taste of iron now filled your mouth.

“Ah! Fuck! It feels so good!” He huffed into your ear.

Your walls clenched down on him as you had your second orgasm. Your eyes rolled back this time and you went momentarily deaf.

His thrusts got faster as he was reaching his climax as well. Soon he went cross eyed and cried out your name as his thick seed filled you up.

Alastor collapsed on top of you. Both of you were panting and drenched in sweat. Once both you came down from your collective highs, you held him as he laid his head on your chest. You stroked his hair and his ears, he looked up at you and smiled softly. His genuine smile.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Alastor.”

You two eventually fell asleep and next morning, he already had your favorite breakfast ready for you.

[rain0tes]

Hi hi love your hacker reader a bit too much it's great!! What would be their reaction to sir pentious trying to join the hotel? And the little eggbois once he starts staying there for real?

Hacker!reader's reaction to Sir Pentious trying to join the hotel.

Hacker!reader actually comes in after the heaven vs. hell battle, when Pentious has already been redeemed. This is an alternate scenario where you've been in the hotel a few weeks before Pentious makes an appearance.

Warnings: mature language and jokes, mentions of violence (although nothing too explicit), all the obvious hazbin stuff

You've been at the Hazbin Hotel for a few weeks. Although not fully convinced by the idea of redemption, having a roof over your head while easing into your new life (or afterlife) was nice.

You find a friend in most of the other wayward souls in the hotel, especially Charlie, who was more than excited when you show up.

The actual story starts when Pentious comes crashing into the hotel the first time. Literally.

You were having tea with Alastor out on the balcony when you feel the ground below yourself shake.

"Show yourself, Alastor."

That earns the radio demon a side eye from you, which he only shrugs at.

You see the others go outside in your peripheral, wanting to check out what the commotion was about. You shrug and head down as well, actually using the stairs since not everyone can just warp through shadows.

You stand beside Alastor, squinting at the giant blimp as they conversed.

"When I've slain you, the almighty Vee's will finally acknowledge me as their equal."

"Ooh! Wait, who are the Vee's?"

"Aren't they that tacky trio with the crap network security?"

"They're no one important."

One beating later, Pentious is on the ground after Alastor has decimated his war-blimp...thing.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience."

"Thank...you...for letting your guard down! Haha!"

Pentious rips off a part of Alastors suit, causing you to physically wince.

"Ah, you shouldn't have done that."

You can't help but chuckle when you see him get sent flying.

"Looks like team rockets blasting off again."

You expected that to be the last time you'll be seeing of him (at least in a while), but it seems that fate has other plans when someone comes knocking on the hotels doors only six hours later.

Vaggie was the one to answer, and he almost got skewered upon sight. Charlie seemed excited that he showed up, tho, and somehow you're not surprised.

"Are you fucking nuts? This chump was trying to kill us like, literally six hours ago?"

"Yeah, exactly, are you seriously gonna let this pathetic loser live with us?"

They did, IN FACT, let the boyfailure in the hotel. You weren't too happy about it, and neither was angeldust (bonding through a common enemy).

You can't help but feel that something was odd about him, sensing an electrical device on him that was certainly not a phone. You remained quiet for the time being, if only to please Charlie by playing along with her activities (even if they did make you cringe just a tiny little bit).

You watch him slither sometime in the middle of the night, prompting you to follow him as you take a sip out of a monster energy can.

"A camera? Wow, that's pretty cheap. Certainly doesn't help my already low expectations of the Vee's"

Yeah, you caught him in the act when he was placing the camera. Angeldust already behind you, confronting Pentious while you pick up the device.

You take a screwdriver out of your pocket, disabling the thing but not damaging it, all while the two fight beside you.

Pentious immediately calls for backup once he's been outed to Vaggie and Charlie, only for Vox to laugh in his face.

"If they don't kill you, go ahead and do it yourself you miserable failure."

You immediately snatch the smartwatch. He may be right, Pentious certainly was a failure. But you've already decided that you're the only one who gets to insult him.

"Listen here, you musty little bitch. You either shut the fuck up or I do it for you."

He's tearing up as you throw the meanest sentences he's ever heard to Vox. Some of them even sound poetic to some degree.

"Two thousand years of constant human evolution only to make some simple minded cunt."

Immediately refers to you as his best friend after this. You waged war on an overlord of hell for him. There's no take backsies.

For once, there's someone in the hotel who's not actively looking out for you, but you're the one looking out for him instead.

You two would share ideas ALL the time.

One thing you'd accomplish together is making a clone of you. He made the android, you made the A.I it would run on.

"Would it technically be mastur-"

"Don't you dare continue that sentence."

The main difference is that the Vee's know who you are in this one. Actively waging war against them instead of remaining anonymous. All because you've decided that the weird boyloser snake is actually kind of endearing.

I might make another part to this one where the reader participates in the hell vs heaven battle.

(masterlist)

[thesupernaturalhouse]

Chalrie louder: are you hurt!?

Vaggie: walking into the hotel after having an existential crisis, and looking like it

Chalrie grabbing vaggies shoulders: oh my heaven- vaggie!! Vaggie what happened!? Are you okay!?

Chalrie grumbling: Alastor was being very uncooperative and disappeared before I could yet anything out of him....

Chalrie louder: are you hurt!?

Vaggie:....yes.....wait- no.....sorry, start over? Maybe uh...breath? A little?

Charlie takes in a deep breath and lets it out: are you hurt....

Aka, does she have to kill somebody

Vaggie:....no, no im-im fine just.....need a very long nap....seriously I am exhausted

Chalrie: oh- oh of course!! Just sleep or? Do you wnat dinner? You came back really late

Vaggie:....did i??

Charlie:.....yeah, it's uh....7pm

Vaggie:....oh

Vaggie:....fuck

Charlie: haha, yeah really late, I was debating going out to look for you myself so I was trying to find Al and then went 'oh fuck that' and was about to leave and uh, you came in

Vaggie: yeah, sounds like something that'd happen here, tell me about it later I'm goign to bed

Charlie: oh- right yeah....yeah you aren't walking up those stairs

Vaggie: wha-

Charlie: just casually picks her up

Vaggie: Charlie!-

.

.

.

3 hours later

Charlie just staring at a sleeping vaggie: I've never had you pass out so fast

Pokes her with her tail softly: maybe I should let Al take you out again....at least then you wouldn't be getting up at 3am to do a gaurd route

Charlie poking stops:.....actually, no, nevermind, really bad idea

She did not need him trying to hurt vaggie. He might be 'representing' this hotel, but she wouldn't trust him with their lives.

......she probably shouldn't have told alastor about vaggie being an overlord in the first place now that she thinks about it.....yeah, that...that wasn't a good idea

In her defense, it was a slip of the tounge, and she thought he would've known....then again he was gone for 7 years, and was also an overlord kil......

Okay....yeah....really bad idea, she'd apologize later

Charlie: note to self; don't leave Alastor alone with Vaggie.....or drill the fear of true hell into him

Nonetheless, if he didn't hurt her this time, he probably wouldn't try anything....at least while she was around, he better not

Seriously.

She'd fucking maul him if he tried to hurt Vaggie

Part 6 | Part 7(finale and here!)

[prince-liest]

since you acknowledged vox and valentino as a uh. less than healthy relationship (lol) several times (going feral over what vox was implying in that latest 666 fic), do you think there's ever the chance of alastor feeling... probably not protective haha but maybe possessive over vox the next time he's a little banged up? alternatively, how else do you think alastor would react if whatever they were getting up to is halted by vox nursing some kind of injury from one of his and val's fights? - ✨

I think it really depends on how Vox presents the situation, to be honest! They, uh, bang each other up a lot themselves, hahaha, and Alastor doesn't really register it as problematic. A lot of writing 666 is balancing the idea that these guys are living an existence where the a real life normal-meter really can't accurately be applied, and also maintaining that they still do have personal boundaries and lines that might be crossed.

A reminder of some (but not all) of the fucked up things that Vox and Alastor have done to each other over the course of 666:

One murder attempt that Vox didn't draw a line in the sand over

Vox got annoyed and slapped Alastor across the face hard enough to knock him down, with no warning or prelude, in a sexual context

Vox slammed Alastor's skull into the ground, out of anger, several times until he was dazed and bleeding

Alastor literally tried to eat a chunk of Vox's shoulder, most likely resulting in the reverse of the scenario you're describing: Vox having to take it easier with Val because he has a gaping shoulder wound courtesy of Alastor and can't lift his arm

About three dozen bucketfuls of severely under-negotiated and sometimes not-at-all negotiated edgeplay (as in, not safe-sane-consensual) kink from both ends, including but not limited to: choking (via hands and via dick), fearplay, deliberate boundary-crossing wrt touch, hypnosis, painplay, bloodplay, wounding, and gaslighting for the purpose of humiliation

Like, Vox asking "I want to make sure I didn't cross any boundaries!" in the second 666 fic does not in any way absolve him of having deliberately crossed about thirty of them immediately prior, and the fact that Alastor enjoyed it is mostly just because Alastor is also fucked up. Some people seemed quite surprised at Alastor crossing so many boundaries in the wireplay fic compared to all the shit Vox had pulled prior to that point, and I think it's because he, unlike Vox, didn't pay lip service to it, though they both do about the same amount of actual "keeping an eye on things".

Them caring about each other does not mean that their concept of "boundaries" or even "okay things to do to another person in an intimate setting or otherwise" aren't very, very colored by them being demonic overlords who live in hell and haven't so much as waved 'hello' to a single healthy intimate relationship in the past hundred years.

Vox having to take a breather because he has some kind of injury from Val is, unless he's actively making a 'this is fucked up and I'm opening up to be vulnerable and unhappy about it' kind of deal about it, is not really going to ping on Alastor's radar as a problem.

And Vox isn't going to make that kind of deal about it because that isn't how he sees his relationship with Valentino. Yes, Val often treats Vox in abusive ways in 666. That is also colored by both of them being demonic overlords who live in hell, and Vox treats certain aspects of it as frustrating and upsetting (and often takes that out on Valentino - hence the frequent off-again-on-again nature of their relationship), but he doesn't actually, like, see their relationship the way that we do.

He loves Val. Val loves him. To him, the rest is either normal overlord behavior or their own damage, and they've found a balance where the general response to a shitty happening is, "Eh, we've worked through worse."

TL;DR: Valentino, Vox, and Alastor all need to have "DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!" stapled across their foreheads. To paraphrase Bay: They're in hell. The insane acts of violence are basically a love language at this point.

[urfavlarry]

So you have any hcs for Carmilla and her daughters?

hope this was what you had in mind!! enjoy<3

warnings: mentions of death, bad grammar

———————— general hcs ————————

to be honest a lot of people say that carmilla was a sinner but her daughters were hell born but i think other wise!

I think their family were apart of some mafia gang in italy and provided people with weapons (illegally ofc) and they just got unexpectadly jumped ome day, Carmilla protectinf her daughters until her last breath.

I strongly believe Carmilla was the first to die that day since she protected her daughters, trying to buy them time to escape, sadly they just weren’t so lucky and died just a few minutes after their mothers death. I think Carmilla swore to protect them in hell since she couldn’t do that in the living world and made her way up to the Overlord status, making the chance of people not messing with her family more likely.

I 100% think they have family game night and no one can change my mind. Though a lot of swearing most likely happens that night (obviously from Carmilla, her daughters just snickering at their mother’s tantrums.) But I believe Carmilla shows this side of her to her daughters only, keeping her composure in front of others to not seem weak.

I think Carmilla would be the type of mom that if you got her she would just say something like “Is it broken? Are you dying? No? Okay, well you’re fine stop being a baby.” LMAO

But she of course is caring and would tend to her daughter’s wounds but she acts like a strict mother, scolding and mumbling swears under her breath. But they know deep down that she loves them a lot.

I really think her daughters would cause mischief when they were alive. They would go around and steal and pick pocket tourists and mess up the old ladies laundry from next door, getting chased with a broom soon after that.

Overall i think their relationship is super sweet and that they just have the most normal one in the series haha (except for Charlie and Vaggie)

—————— Some reader insert hcs ——————

I think that Carmilla would find reader after an extermination, badly injured and she would just be like “Your coming home with me”

Her daughters would totally take you in as their sibling right away and would include you in everything. Making sure you always got some attention and make sure nobody messes with you.

You would 100% gossip with them and prank your mom together, having to run for your lives and pray she doesn’t beat what ever life is left in your dead bodies.

Carmilla wouls take you to meetings like her daughters, introducing you and warning the Overlords (Vox, Valentino) to not touch you if they value their souls. And I just see how Alastor sends you funny (and creepy) faces during the meetings and you just chuckle at the old Overlord.

I think Carmilla would try to teach you ballet, wanting to bond with you over something and gives you a proud look and hug when you manage to do a hard trick she has been teaching you for some time.

In general you guys would just be a family of chaos!

[kodamaghost00]

30 Alastor Headcanons

———————————————————

[Disclaimer!!]

This is for entertaining purposes only,so if you don’t enjoy these things just scroll past please!This post will contain: Sfw, Fluff, Romance!

It’s also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys! You are a new Resident at the Hazbin hotel in these scenarios.

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

The first day you checked in the Hazbin Hotel he came up to you. “Hello Dear! And what does a sinner like you do here?” You just look down with a frown on your face. He pulls your chin up to look at him “Smile dear! You’re never fully dressed without one!”

He never makes the first move. He patently waits till someone approaches him just to turn them down.

The first time you saw him eat lunch you were… disturbed to say the least. You knew that cannibals are common in hell but you never saw one in person.

You were a long fan of Alastor. You listened to his broadcasts long before you met him in person. You were also super sad when he went missing for 7 years.

Alastor walks around hell knowing that no one’s going to challenge him. So he hums sweet melodies to himself while walking around.

He loves to dance with you while listening to jazz music.

After he lost Mimzy he had basically no friends at all that he knew from the living realm. Not that it matters to him but you feel sad somehow.

He drinks wine mixed with blood. Only sometimes though since he begins to ramble when he’s drunk. “Have you listened to my RADIO broadcast before dear??”

He was suspicious of you when you first entered. He didn’t know if you truly wanted to be here. You might cause trouble to him.

He has a bunch of scars on his body due to his fights back in the day.

He is an excellent cook. He sometimes prepares breakfast for the people in the hotel.

Charlie is such a cutie. She’ll go up to you and ask if you and alastor are doing well. And if you’d say “no” she’ll try to cheer you up.

He loves taking you out to fancy dinners around the town. No one interrupts your little dates. “Are you enjoying it, dear?”

Sometimes when you’re overwhelmed with everything he comes into your room and puts up some relaxing jazz. “Care to dance with me my love?” You nod and begin to dance.

He lets you touch his ears occasionally. You can tell they’re well maintained by the fluffiness. You even asked if you can see his tail. He allowed it after a long discussion.

Husk and niffty get along with you super well. You began talking to them, trying to get more out of them about Alastor. Husk would tell you about his past if it was appropriate.

When you asked him if he’s sad about not having any friends he just laughed. “Haha! Dear you know I’m better off without them.” He smiles brightly.

He sings under the shower. Mostly old jazz songs.

Cats>>>> Dogs. Mostly related to his past but he’s over all a cat person.

He wouldn’t understand the new terms for the sexual agenda, even though Charlie tried to explain it to him multiple times.

He and Rosie are best friends since forever. He also promotes her shop every now and then.

He’s super old fashioned so he’d call you “Dear” or “My love”.

He actually cares about the reputation and safety of the hotel.

He is a mamas boy. He treats woman super nicely since his mom raised him to be a gentleman.

Him and Zestial were fighting buddies back in the early days of hell. He calls Zestial old just to piss him off.

He likes being the small spoon while cuddling.

He punched Susan once after she called his staff tacky and useless. She truly is an old bitch.

He used to live in cannibal town near Rosie. They would go out and talk about everything.

Rosie was the one to show him how to style his hair. She also did his makeup once and since then he never tried a new style.

He defends you every time someone is mean to you. “Huh? Oh… I shouldn’t have killed them? Well! It’s done now so there’s no going back!”

———————————————————

MASTERLIST

Thank you all for reading! Alastor has been my favorite Hazbin character since 2019. The moment I laid my eyes on him I couldn’t resist but love that fellow! I hope you enjoyed the little headcanons. Have a great day/Night!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

[littlebluentebook]

Alastor x Reader pt.6

A/N Oh my goodness! I didn't expect the story to get this much attention! Im going to do some sort of second story where Alastor and the reader are in hell. If theres no objections I'll also feature some helluva boss characters (just to advance the plot!)

I am very sorry for not updating! I went out of town, nearly broke my hip, got sick, and started a new job all in the last 2 weeks. I should be able to post once every three days now :)

Thank you to everyone reading the story! I love sharing my ideas and feel free to reach out if there are any stories you want to see!

TW-Animal Blood(?)

Chapter 7

You woke up in Alastor's arms. It wasn't on purpose! You both had agreed to split the bed, pride getting in the others way. Apparently, somewhere in the night you each reached for the other. Not minding the extra warmth, you fell back asleep. There was no point in moving away; you liked him, he was comfy, and kept you warm. The second time you woke up, the sun was bright and the bed was empty. Worried you checked the clock to make sure you hadn't overslept to open the shop. You had forty five minutes to get the store open. Not as much time as you would have liked, but also not anything too out of your range.

"Ah! My sleeping beauty, glad you're now awake!" a voice said from the doorway. Alastor? You thought he had left. "Come now! I have made us breakfast."

Alastor could cook. Breakfast tasted like it was picked up from a five star restaurant on the more expensive side of town. Over breakfast he told you that he was unable to leave such a beautiful person alone and you needed the rest from the previous night. He actually didn't leave you at all that day.

He sat talking with you in your shop keeping well mannered company. Alastor would never admit it, but he absolutely loved listening to you talk. He spent so much time talking on the radio it was nice to finally be listening to others. He never really cared for sewing but asked you questions about how you did certain things and complimenting your stitch work. He also would assist you while you worked; measuring, flipping things right side outing grabbing fabric as needed. He liked feeling useful to you and watching you work on something you were passionate about.

:Thank you so much for your help today Allie."

"Allie?" He tilted his head like a puppy hearing 'no' for the first time.

"Yeah! Like a nickname," you beamed at him. Alastor mulled the name over in his head before deciding it was okay when it rolled off your tongue and into his ears. No one else could ever be allowed to call him Allie aside from you.

"Hmmmm. Alright" He was at a loss for a nickname truly just wanting to call you his. "Why don't we go and fetch ourselves dinner. I know the most exquisite place!"

"that would be lovely!" Your demeanor was much calmer than your racing thoughts. First, Alastor had stayed the night and made breakfast. Secondly he spent the entire day with you. And now he wanted to take you to dinner! You felt like a romance character from the books you had read and heard stories of.

He had helped you close the shop, took your arm in his (it was the only way you two ever walked together) and he led the way to the restaurant.

It was a nice place with candles and flowers on the table. There was a live band playing softly to entertain guests as they dined.

Alastor was sweet and kind with you, he made excellent recommendations about what drinks to try and meals to order. You both split a cake together for dessert. The night was wonderful, absolutely perfect! The only thing that there you off was the way in which Alastor ordered his steak.

"Alastor!" you had whisper-yelled "that cow is so undercooked I can still hear it moo-ing in the fields. Do we need to have the waiter take it back for just a moment longer?"

"Haha oh no darling! I just enjoy my cut of meat like this. It holds so much more flavor!" You gave him a quizzical look swearing you had just seen blood dark as your wine pool on the plate.

When your night had come to an end, Alastor had walked you home and kissed your cheek. It had left you red and blushing thinking about it as you slept.

The next morning you had awoken ready to start your chores. You folded the blanket and pajamas that Alastor had borrowed and cleared a drawer for the items to reside in. Today you had a new activity you hadn't done in years.

You walked down the stairs leading to your shop and to the circular display table at the center of your shop. Grabbing the wilted flowers and vase you got to work and put them in your oven to dry them out. You loved keeping gifts, flowers were beautiful but difficult to keep but you made it work.

The entire day you were all that was on Alastor mind. He simply could not get enough of you despite spending the entire day together before. He was talking to his mother about the feeling and how he had never experienced it, unsure of what to do he was searching for advice. His mother was not helping the situation, she merely laughed at him. "Oh Al, why don't'cha go onna date together and court the poor thing!" What if you didn't like him back? What if he made a total fool of himself. His mother could sense his worries, "well whoever can put up with ya for a full day definelty doesn't not like you." She pinched his cheeks and went back to cooking for the both of them

[fandomworld9728]

The Life of the Morningstars - Chapter 9:

"Charlie!"

"Hey dad- oh!" She couldn't help the laugh that was squeezed out of her as her father hugged her.

Picking his big girl up while hugging her, Lucifer smiled up at her. She was so grown... "It's so good to see you."

Giggling down at him, she got back on her feet. He sure was stronger than he looked. When was the last time she had seen him use that strength? "It's good to see you too, dad. And welcome to The Hazbin Hotel." A proud smile graced Charlie's face as she showed him the nicely decorated lobby along with her group of friends. She was so grateful for all the work they had put into putting this together.

Before Lucifer could go explore, he was distracted by his precious little kitty coming to greet him. He couldn't resist showing her some love. "Hello Keekee. It's been a while since I last seen you. Oh! Razzle. Dazzle. Look how much you haven't grown. Still fun sized! Are you taking care of my wittle girl? You better be."

This? This was the King of Hell? This small, easily distracted, goofball? Alastor couldn't believe this. He expected much more from the all the rumors he heard about the royals. Suffice it to say, he was not impressed. 

"Wow... this place looks- uh... uh huh..." Lucifer was having a hard time coming up with something nice to say about the hotel. It was worn down and interestingly decorated. But this was Charlie's space, and he didn't want to be rude. Not his style but it wasn't his house, so he wasn't gonna complain. "It's got a lot of character. Oh! What in the unholy hell is that?!"

"Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?"

"And you are?"

"Alastor." Appearing behind the king, the radio demon was already amused by his reactions. The expressions he made; how quick he was to turn around when he appeared behind using his shadow. This was going to be fun. "Pleasure to be meeting you, sire, quite a pleasure. It's nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life."

Did this guy just shake his cane then wipe his hand off after? Lucifer made a mental note to ask Charlie about that later. Who was this Alastor guy anyways? Turning to Charlie for answers, he didn't get a chance to ask anything before the sinner continued.

"I am the host of the hotel. You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast." 

God. Everything about this guy screamed overconfident alpha! Honestly, he had heard about the broadcast. Him and Charlie stumbled upon it once when she still lived with him and decided they liked it well enough to have it play as background noise to make the palace feel less empty. But against his better judgement, his instincts had him lashing out. "Nope! I guess that's why Charlie called it the Hazbin Hotel, ah ha-ha."

"Hahaha, it was actually my idea."

"Haha! Well, it's not very clever!"

"Haha! Fuck you."

"Okay!" Stepping in, the princess separated the two before things could escalate. When was the last time she had seen her dad like that? It didn't make- oh no. "Uh... Alastor. Are you wearing any scent patches?"

"Hm? No. Should I be?"

"Charlie, it's okay. Scents don't usually bother me much. If you guys are fine with his scent being out it's not a big deal." Lucifer knew that his own scent could be overpowering, especially since it had soured over the years, so he made sure to wear them to the hotel. Slowly let the people there get used to his scent instead of hitting them all at once with it. He learned his lesson from last time. 

"Oh. O-Okay. If you're sure. Just let me know if any scents bother you and we can see about how to adjust you to them."

"Sounds good, kiddo." This was honestly going better then he thought it would. Aside from that bastard alpha. Though... it was kind of fun being able to spat with someone like that. Because of his second gender and status as King of Hell, most people either coddled him or feared him. It was a nice change of pace. Not to mention how nice he smells- oh fuck. No. Nononono!

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[nokingsonlyfooles]

Hahaha. So. Uh. *rocking back and forth like I'm waiting outside the principal's office* Yeeeah. Finish the queue and plug the thing, and I'm reblogging this one to plug it because... I have made a poor decision. But I explain too much, so first off:

I write this. I broke my website to fix it, and it's not quite fixed but it's legible. I think someone's reading or rereading right now, but I am super obscure and looking for more!

Known readers: 3 (hi!) 1st Goalpost: 10?

Known Supporters: I'm set up on Ko-fi but I'm not asking for money until I post more stuff!! 1st Goalpost: 5?

And let me tell you about my maladaptive coping skills...

So, I've learned to dissociate like a boss (no details, just accept that this happened to me for reasons!) and I like to tell myself stories. Not just like daydreams, I wanna get the language down and edit and everything. And, ya know, now that I'm older, with better writing shit that nobody will take away from me, I often write this stuff down. Tin Soldier has provided an outlet for that. I usually stick to it, and now Soldier On fills that niche pretty well...

But, oh no, I had to phrase the impossible (because it would be apocalyptic or boring) crossover fic, above, as a plot problem. And I've been having a very stressful week (eye shit and doctor shit) and I became trapped at a restaurant with the US news playing muted in the background while I ate. To paraphrase Alastor: Haha, so many bombings!

So, yeah, I solved it. I figured out how to get David situated at the Hazbin Hotel without getting him killed (and/or ruling Hell from a radio broadcast). And could I just go "OK, cool" and leave it alone like I should? NO!

I do not have the social skills to be active in fan spaces, folks. I read and shut up, when I read at all. Because I'm not going to be invested enough to know why the fandom has decided this is fanon and this isn't and I will cross lines I don't even see. And I'm too old to be running around on the internet, pissing in people's Wheaties over something I like. And, although David dates to 2017 and I am staying true to the skills he had at the time (plus the Compelling Voice, which is standard for his current situation), it sure as hell LOOKS like I made up a Mary Sue just to drag Alastor. And he does! Boy, does he!

Some folks say the Muses inspire. Stephen King says it's little elves who live in your keyboard. I say SATAN HIMSELF crawled into my ear and whispered, "You know, Barnaby is in hiding and Alastor is a perfect replacement goldfish. They're both aromantic and you know David needs (and hates) boundaries like that!" And I could not refute this!

I should embrace it. I should be shameless. I should say, "I am now involved in writing a verbal chess match between two incredibly skilled opponents, one of whom has just stuffed the other into a maid outfit, and the other of whom is still wearing said maid outfit while trying to maintain every scrap of dignity and dominance available - and Alastor is winning! Alastor in a maid outfit is winning! I can't believe it!" But I can't because I think it makes me sound like a clueless dork. (Well, the spouse hears me, I trust him.)

I have a file titled "I should NOT be writing this!" and I'm still writing it. I usually finish that stuff - I have files with titles like "Anything to Keep the Anxiety Down!" but it's all my own characters so I don't feel as bad about it. My stress levels are still through the roof (feeling hopeless about lack of ability to maintain focus on fine details, and sensory overload from unfortunate food) and I'll probably keep writing this one, like I keep eating a Cup Noodle even when I know it's real bad for me and I need fruits and veggies. I need to write the NDA dealing with the spy and completing their escape. I'm gonna write my OC sparring with a certified Tumblr sexyman until my neurons fall out from brain scurvy.

But will I show it to anyone other than my long-suffering spouse? I dunno. If you actually know David, you'll probably die laughing, but that's only a couple people. Everyone else'll be like "lol why u so angry?" And I wanna sit 'em all down and explain at length, "No! I'm not angry! I'm having fun! They're PERFECT for each other! I want them to experience CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT together! I HAVE THEMES TO EXPLORE!" I'm actually, finally getting one of David's three backstories written out! I'm gonna try my hand at writing original lyrics to instrumental ragtime - potentially creating music that would not get smacked with the copyright stick if I wanted to record or perform it! But these do not seem like the words of an author honing their craft, I just sound unhinged.

I'd be having way more fun if I really were unhinged, but I don't like to hurt people or even annoy them, ya know? I'm out looking for approval on the internet and that's precarious as fuck. I'm not cool. I can't just hold my head up and do whatever I want. You people will eat me. (Waaay more like Alastor than David in that way.)

But I'm writing it. I don't feel good about it. I'll probably get over myself and put it up somewhere eventually, even if it's just another Author Egg at the site. Alastor is IN the maid outfit and we'll see if David gets him to mop the floor. And it's got themes and poignancy and shit because apparently I can't help myself.

It's practice if nothing else but goddamn look at all these paragraphs over how conflicted I feel.

tl;dr? I'M SO GOOD AT ANXIETY, EVEN MY COPING MECHANISMS GIVE ME ANXIETY!

Oh God. David Heard There's Room Service In Hell!!

Once again, I am testing my drawing ability by NOT doing any of the MANY illustrations I need, but I would've been sad if I couldn't finish an illustration. And look! I made it! I CAN DRAW! (And collage, obvs not my suitcase or BG, but all Public Domain)!! Well, my stylus needs a new battery, BUT, IN THEORY, I CAN DRAW! It's low res like all my test images, and I don't think I'm gonna put Vivziepop out of business anytime soon, but I'm fond of it.

That's why I'm so sad that it'll NEVER EVER HAPPEN. As a storyteller (albeit an obscure one) let me elucidate...

Strictly in terms of narrative viability, David hails from an incompatible universe. For an Invisible, he's middling. The Compelling Voice he's so fond of seems to be standard-issue, he's just more of an asshole about using it. In Tin Soldier and Soldier On, he's not all that hard to beat. Some people even have a natural immunity! He's only a threat in the first place because nobody knows what he can do.

But the minute he rolls up to the Hazbin Hotel, not only does nobody know what he can do, nobody has that natural immunity, and it would be hard as hell (haha) to beat him with their combat-friendly magic system. David isn't doing that Capcom-esque "freeze the enemy for a few seconds while they're looking at it" hypnosis. He's issuing unbreakable commands. If you're not deaf, the only way to beat him is to forget what he said. And that seems like it would be difficult, if not impossible, for most of the cast. Alastor certainly won't stoop to inflicting head trauma or hypnosis or amnesiac-levels of liquor on himself.

And that MIGHT not be a problem, except as soon as Dave meets Al he's gonna go from zero to nemesis in about three seconds flat. "Hmm, let's see. Neat freak, carefully-curated personality, perma-smile, never a moment's weakness... That's a pathetic little traumatized man-baby and I'm going to pull him out of his shell if I need to use a crab fork!" And, canonically, Alastor is also willing to make enemies that quickly. David has a sense of humour and no sense of self preservation, combat tentacles and veiled threats ain't gonna do it. Round one, David's gonna mop the floor with the Radio Demon.

...And by that, I mean he'd stuff Alastor into one of Niffty's frilliest little outfits and literally make him mop the floor, and even Charlie encouraging him to be a better person wouldn't get him to quit. Also, he'd be ignoring her and bending over backwards to get Angel's attention.

"Oh, listen. The man is over one hundred years old with zero interest in one-night stands or whirlwind romances. Prohibition isn't a thing anymore, drinking and dancing just doesn't cut it. Give him a chance to develop a fetish for something a little bit taboo..."

"I̸̠̤̐̄̄ ̸͕̝͙̌A̸̪̅M̴̭̰̙̎̓ ̶͓̻̐̉L̷̹͕̍I̷̯͗T̷̫̄Ȩ̶̾̋R̴̝̥͒A̷͔̩͋̃̕Ļ̵͗͜L̶̘̈́Y̵͇̓͗̂ ̴̼̪̘͠Ā̷̠̽̆ ̶͍͓̊̉C̷̣͕̺͆̃͝A̵͙̾̅N̶̥̬̮̄N̴̤̯̬̒̉̚I̴̩̜̍B̷͈̪̩̄À̴̝̦L̶̪͂͛͗!̶̟̆"

"That's not a fun night out. It's barely even a meal, what with the garbage they're feeding people these days. I imagine everyone tastes like a fucking 'Cool Ranch Dorito.'" [while making quote marks with both hands] "Isn't he from Louisiana? They invented spicy! Tell me, my deer fellow, is the cross-dressing and domination lighting up any dials?"

"Ì̴̗ ̶̧̫͓͋W̵͜͝Í̸̗͋L̴͔͆̊̌L̴̨̜͚͂ ̸͈̤́Ḱ̵̳̩͜Í̷̘̾L̶̨̫̬̉͋̌Ļ̵̱̗͐͊ ̴̧̣͊̄̈́Y̴̛͖̺͓̓̐O̶̢̦̍̀U̷̠̞͇̎ ̷̨̛̮̭I̷̙̜̽N̸̘̣͙̆ ̵̞͑͝Y̷̰̭̽O̷̟̘̹̓Ủ̶̢̏R̷͉͑̄̀ ̷̧̧̤̎Ŝ̶̱͈̃L̵̰͋Ȅ̸̜̗̙̊̍E̷͇̦̒P̷͈̝̅̆͌.̴̡͈̅͑̓͜"

"My good man, I have unlimited access to drugs and a fun new activity, WHY WOULD I SLEEP? What shall we try next? Do you have any drugs, Angel? Oh, of course you do! Do you think he's more of an upper or a downer person? I think a few muscle relaxants might loosen up that permanent rictus of social anxiety, but God only knows. You must be smoking a crate of cigarettes a day! Do you even brush? Your teeth, I mean. Do you suppose those lovely people at Lourdes make a mouthwash...?"

And Charlie would say, clasping her little hands, "Okay! What if we make some popcorn and talk about our childhood traumas? Yaaaay!"

But David would, inevitably, pass out. Most likely after binging and doing untold damage with Angel. And Alastor would kill him... And that's where we have the biggest fucking plot problem of all. Alastor's go-to method of disposal is tearing people to pieces while broadcasting it on the radio. And it seems like their screaming continues for quite some time, perhaps eternally.

I have expressed this in song form, because I have a weird brain and I couldn't resist.

Wait, wait, nevermind the eternal torment. Can these little hellions hear me? Test, test, is this thing on? Pardon me, could you quiet down a bit? I have a few things I’d like to… Will you stop screaming? Ugh. EVERYBODY SHUT UP AND LISTEN RIGHT NOW! That’s better. I have a little message for my executive producer. Well! I say! Colour me startled, you fulfilled your vow Think you’ve won? But I’ve barely begun! I’m always looking for new fans to wow Can you hear me NOW? [aside] Will you screamers sing backup if I command it? Can I get a little harmony? (We… can’t help ourselves?) I am eternal, and guess who’s just boosted my signal So I can reach all of you lovely new people? (We can’t help ourselves!) It’s your own Radio Demon! What was he thinking? (We can’t help ourselves!) What was he drinking? Ha! His dial must be twisted! Now I’m serenading the damned for my infinite span All according to plan! Am I a madman or a genius? I’m a pianist! Take that, FCC I’m a wonder, your saviour Please excuse my rude behaviour, (but the demon sure done fucked up!) Think he did me a favour? Silence my vocals? A failure! I’m louder and I’m certainly braver So crank the signal to the noise, and enjoy my compelling voice It’s nice to have all these new toys, (but our deer friend is annoyed) A Spirit of Radio beats a demon blow for blow This Invisible is crackling on the air! Well, one does like to believe Though you’re stuck, I’m almost free! That’s what you think! Your weak signal can’t compare Though you’ve had a little fun Your broadcast is done, and it’s time for your payback I’m in control Too bad you atomized my soul! … Not this attention-starved, brandy-addled, overgrown twink Guilty! What could be more absurd? A plagiarist bird Tweety-pie can’t even sing, his theft is pitchy You call that bitchy? I’m afraid that’s not entertainment! You're looking for a new twist? Then let’s remix the arrangement! Is Al as stiff as he projects? What sorts of kinks do you suspect? I’ve seen lacy details with my very eyes! He lies! And if I Tiked a Tok or two Well, there’s nothing he can do! A V̷̰͖̉̂͝İ̶̙D̵̛̻̮̙͛̕E̴̼̱̕Ŏ̷͆ͅ?̷̗͎̞̏̅! If I did, you can’t delete it That's the truth! When I find you in here, Ÿ̴͕̚Õ̸̠̝̕Ů̵̩̹Ŕ̸͔ ̸̬̋̂̔͜T̸̮̙͌̕Ő̵͔͕̑̄R̵̩̣̅͌̌͜M̷̝̹̾̏Ĕ̶̦͕̟Ň̶̮͊Ṱ̷̲̈̔̈ ̵̡̹̟̑Ẅ̷̝́͝I̷͉͋ͅL̴͎̞̎L̶̯͓͑ ̵̬͐͐͝Ḅ̸͚̬̅Ẹ̴̎̿͠ ̴̻͉̲̐̈́͠N̵̖̟̤͑̽E̴͙͎͘V̸̡͕̦̾̕Ė̵̝͈̀Ŕ̴̺-̸̡̱̇̾̉E̴̠̣̊̐̋Ń̵͔̬̝̑D̴̡̬͙̓İ̴͔͋͊N̸̞̙͐̒Ĝ̷̼̺̐͆.̸̤̭́̐̅.̸̰̓͝.̷̤̬̌ #MaidioDemon is trending! Y̴̼̿͆O̶̟͇͊̏͜Ǔ̸͈ ̴̨̫͘I̷̡͓̜̍̈́̽N̸̜̩̉̄͝S̵͚͈̭̅̓Ĩ̸̢̯͇͘Ṗ̶̩̭̦I̴̱͑D̷̨͖̚ͅ,̴̥͕̌̈̾ ̸̛̳̈́Ṭ̶̢̠͒Ė̸̱̼̕C̸̙̥̈́H̵͓̠̔̀N̷̖͝Ǒ̶̬Ć̶͔̃͘Ř̶͙͍͠Ä̴̟́̊T̴̳̉̊͜I̶̞̓͝C̵̢̨̲͐̇̎.̵̼̏͋.̷͎̆ͅ.̸̘̜̒ Darling, please, you’re lost in static One thing’s clear! You must be wishing that you took the L, you poor deer Say farewell. I’m very grateful that you gave me Hell Oh, this will be swell! [Vivziepop, distantly:] Fuck!

"Stayed Gone" is a patter song and I can't keep up with it as I read it, but I think the lyrical parts scan, at least. A-heh. Please excuse my hubris, but it's doubtful anyone will see this.

Of course, I would never torment someone with arguably GNC-phobic revenge porn, but that guy IS NOT ME. Your only hope for dealing with David is if Vaggie decides he's more of a threat than an amusement and straight up kills him, and that's not a plot, that's a cul-de-sac. So this little not-a-fic is all you'll get from me about this unsustainable situation.

...Alright, I might put Alastor in a maid outfit if anyone cares, but I really should be illustrating. I have precisely 13 to do before I can post more story! Unless I decide to post it anyway!

All apologies to Vivziepop, whom I've name-checked as one of a few creators I'd sell out or saw off my leg to work with. But - although I am tempting fate - prrrobably no one will see this. I'm just doin' a little practice and amusing myself.

Right, Tumblr?

[missblissy]

Glad you're back!! Miss you! I see about your post, can I have some modern AU maybe of Human! Alastor x reader going to an aquarium? Maybe a cute date? Haha thx amazing to have you again

(( QwQ/ It's good to be back! And I would be honored to do that. I had a lot of fun with this. I hope you enjoy!!))

It was hinted with salt filling the air. Misty and warm, the summer sea winds rolled off the coast and into your hair. The Long Island sound was picture perfect, just as you remember in your childhood dreams. You were staying in a quaint little town your familly use to visiting summer after summer when you were a child. And it was the perfect place for you to bring yourself on a long over due vacation. Work had been too much to handle this past year, and now you could spend the next week relaxing on the soft sandy coastal beaches of Long Island. 

However today you had plans to take the ferry across the sound to the aquarium. Sure... you were going by yourself but... So what. You didn’t particularly have many friends, nor a partner in your life. But so what? You were an introvert natrually and a social gathering over five people where never your thing. 

You had just made it to the ferry docks. As always, you were fifteen minutes early. You couldn’t bear to be late, especially since you considered “on-time” to be late. You were sitting on a public bench facing the sound. Dozens of other people have started to gather around the same place as you. You were just about to take one of your favorite books out of our bag when someone approached you.

“Do you mind if I sit?” You saw a man standing before you. He had a pleasant smile. A soft one that just barely met his eyes. You took one second too long to peer at him.

“Uh-...” You tore your gaze from his soft brown hair and to his polished shoes. They were out of style yet he somehow managed to pull it off, “Yea-.. I mean no...! Help yourself.” You tried to return his smile but you were far more awkward about it. This man had some strange sense of fashion. He looked oddly in place, however, he seemed like he was trying to live in a time long since past. 

“Are you waiting for the ferry too?” He asked, making simple conversation to fill the void of silence. 

You glanced at him quickly a second time and made a nervous little laugh. His dark complexion matched his brown eyes hidden behind perfectly circular glasses, “Oh... yes.” You remember you had your ticket in your hand, “It shouldn't be much longer until it arrives,” 

The stranger nodded his head slowly, “Have you ever been on a ferry before?” You nodded your head to his question, “Ah, first time for me. They don’t have ferries where I’m from.” He said with a cool expression.

He seemed chatty for a stranger. Most of the time when strangers tried talking to you, you’d brush them off. But this man was lucky that you thought he was rather... stunning in the looks department. That, and he seemed rather harmless as of right now. So you indulged in his conversation, “Where are you from?” You asked. 

The man paused only slightly then turned himself to face you. He held out his left hand for you to take. You were hesitant but you still reached out, “Alastor,” He said, “I’m from New Orleans. I’m guessing you’re a local?” You wouldn’t have ever guessed that, he didn’t have any kind of southern twang or drawl to his tone.

You shooked his hand but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little at his question, “No, no,” You waved your hand a little, “Uh- aha... I’m (Y/N). And I’m not from here, but my family and I use to come here all the time for summer vacations.”

“Well, it’s certainly a lovely place to visit. I’m here for business though so I can’t say I’ve gotten the real experience of it all yet. Today was my day off, however, and I thought I’d go see this aquarium one of my friends keeps telling me to go to. She’s rather annoying about it, truly, spoiled even and quite the nagging little thing. But she is my friend after all and I’d rather not deal with the consequences of not listening to her.” 

There was a moment there went you felt your heart stop for a minute, “That’s... really ironic.” You said slowly.

“Oh? You have a bossy friend too?” He jested with a smile. 

You laughed for a second then shook your head, “No, I mean that it’s ironic that you’re going to the aquarium,” You paused for a second then reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. You showed Alastor and said, “I’m going too.” 

He peered at the e-ticket on your phone, the pushed his glasses up on his nose with a deep laugh, “What a small world!” He laughed, then laughed some more, “How truly ironic indeed!” Then without a second to waste, he faced you once again then asked, “Would you like to go together?”

The question startled you. You didn’t expect that. He was very bold, wasn’t he? You had only just met and he was asking to spend probably what would be the rest of the day with you. You were flustered suddenly, then you were tongue-tied, lastly, you cracked your voice as you answered, “S-Sure! Yea- um--....” You felt your cheeks turn a little pink, “Sorry. It’s just... That was unexpected.” Just as you said that the loud horn of the ferry screamed as it pulled into the docks. 

Alastor stood up while smiling down to you, “Life wouldn’t be life if what you expected happened all the time.” 

He then held out his hand, offering to help you up from the bench. You took a moment, sitting there and taking everything in for what it was. Alastor stood before you, looking as though he was some kind of mathematician, or professor, now that you got a good look at him. His red tie was tucked behind a brown sweater vest that stopped just shy of his belt. His hand was offered to you, while the wind dusted his brown hair around in the breeze. And that smile on his face, it was soft yet firm enough to show that he was pleased to help you up. 

So you decided then... why the hell not? He was right, life wouldn’t be the same if it was exactly like what you expected. You took Alastor’s hand and pulled yourself to your feet. The two of you chatted while boarding the ferry, and then stood beside each other while leaning along the guard rails of the top deck.

The both of you talked about all kinds of things. You found out that Alastor was some kind of internet personality, not really. He had a podcast he ran and owned with some friends of his. It was apparently very popular and well known, though not that well known because you’ve never heard of it before. And to say that didn’t hurt Alastor’s ego a little would have been a lie. Apparently, Alastor also had a strong taste for liquor, because at one point he went to the ferry’s indoor bar and came back with two rum on the rocks.

You told him it was only noon, to which he replied, “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” And laughed before taking a sip of his drink. You decided to have the one he got you and told yourself it’d only be one which Alastor stayed true to. He didn’t wander off for another drink once he finished the one he had. There was another point that you learned that Alastor had the habit of ignoring his phone, to the instance where he got annoyed with it and turned it off. It seemed he only wanted to focus on talking to you and listening to what you had to say.

Alastor and you talked the whole ferry ride, which was just under an hour long. And when you docked, you both walked side by side down the three and a half blocks to the aquarium. It wasn’t a massive place, but it was a good size with a decent amount of animals. You originally came here with the idea of looking for inspiration within sea life. For you were an author, after all, writing stories for a living came with its ups and downs. For instance, right now, your much-needed vacation wasn’t really a vacation. The current book you were working on took place in late century seaside town, much like this one. And you had run into the worse possible writer’s block you’ve ever been in. 

As you and Alastor had finished passing the entry gates and showing your tickets, you wondered why Alastor would want to come here with you. Maybe because he realized how terribly awkward it would be if you continued to cross paths all day. You also thought about how you wouldn't be able to focus on working with him around now. You also didn’t really want to out yourself, or your current story. 

But that would soon be unavoidable. You and Alastor had just made it to the open exhibits of the aquarium. You had stopped on an old wooden bridge to briefly look out at a beautiful koi pond. Alastor leaned over slightly while resting his arms on the bridge railing. He had a soft smile that was barely on his lips, “This one oddly reminds me of home,” He sighed. 

You learned along the railing as well, looking over the swampy like pond. It lily pads all over, with a dark green water filled with dead trees and moss. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear the bullfrogs chirping away. Seeing it gave your a sudden surge of inspiration. Something about it made you get several ideas for your book. You couldn’t let them slip away, so you reached into your bag and grabbed your notebook.

While you became lost in your own world, scribbling down idea after idea, Alastor quietly watched you. It wasn’t in a way that you noticed, because he’d only take a side glance here or there. But after a moment or so, he finally asked, “Forgot something to add to your grocery list?” 

It was meant to be a joke but it went right over your head (Mush to Alastor’s dismay).

“O-oh..” You then laughed weakly, “No... It’s for a story I’m working on.” 

Alastor turned to face you slightly while still leaning on the rail, “Oh, like an author?”

You took a dry swallow then glanced away and shrugged, “Yea,” You didn’t want to egg him on. But of course, he asked anyways. 

“Are you published?” He seemed genuinely interested. Yet there was a reason you wanted to avoid it. Oftentimes when you told people about your books, the general reception wasn't that good. There was a reason you wrote under a pen name. 

However, Alastor wasn’t from around here, and you weren’t on New York Time’s Best Selling List yet, and probably never would be. So there was a chance he wouldn’t know or ever heard of your books. 

So you took the chance and said, “Yeah. I’m the author of Sea Rise.”

“Oooh,” Shit. “That book series about the pirates?” Dammit. 

You felt your cheeks burn as you took in a deep breath and nodded your head, “You’ve heard of them?” You wouldn’t look at him though. You just kept your gaze on some turtle resting on a log. 

“Yeah, never read them,” He gave a slight chuckle, “But the girl I work with-”

“You said her name is Charlie, right?”

“Yes- Well, she reads ‘em. She’s a big fan. I’m under the assumption that it’s about fictional pirates?” 

You took in a small breath then sighed, “Pretty much. It’s... not that amazing or anything. It’s okay.” You noticed that Alastor pushed off the rail and started to walk again, but slower this time.

“Tell me about it.” His words surprised you enough to look at him with a shocked expression. He laughed at you while giving a small wave of his hand, “Only if you want to. I’m sure you can’t talk much about spoilers.”

You blinked, then let out a shaky laugh, “I-I don’t know. It’s... A long story. This is for my fourth installation.”

He hummed with a slight chuckle, “Well it’s a good thing there is a snack bar over there.” He pointed to one not that far away, “And plenty of places to sit too.” 

There was something that flickered around in your chest. You felt butterflies you always wrote about in your stories. You peered at Alastor finding it hard to stare at his face. You glanced up from his shoes and got caught in that tilt in his smirk. Heat ran to your cheeks and spread across your nose, you gave a sharp nod of your head then awkwardly stuttered out, “O-okay!” With maybe a little too much excitement. Who knew that today, of all days... You’d run into someone like him. 

[radiovisual]

(( quick, post the introspective baby thoughts before all the mutuals wake up--

(( honestly like... im gonna try not to get Into it bc this post is abt my Alastor, but to preface, i just gotta say. The way fandom usually tends to approach the concept of canon characters having Babies has always Severely weirded me out, and i only recently figured out Why, and how exactly to put it into words.

(( its by no means a bad thing--its just fictional fun, i know!--but the portrayal of pregnancy and surprise children always being a very "oh no, look at this pregnancy test! Im PrEgNaNt, this is a travesty! I HAVE to keep it though, because everyone else wants me to so we can have a little tiny version of me to dote on a get into shenanigans about heehee haha!" Is... frustrating. To say the least.

(( and its... important to me, that You all know that when i talk about my alastor having kids, or wanting kids, that that's not the way I look at it. Thats not at all the way i envision it, or look at it. In another case of me being Classic Lil Old Me, a lot of these feelings i give Alastor are me projecting my own experiences with the topic on him, and me taking the opportunity to live them vicariously.

(( Alastor looked up to his mother, and by extension, his aunts and grandmother so, so much. Growing up he saw them all go through a lot of hardship, and still doing what they could to take care of their children, to keep them happy and safe, and to help them feel free and boundless--like they could go out in the world and do anything they could dream of. And he also saw mothers who clearly weren't ready to be mothers. Women who resented their children, and often only coasted by giving them the bare minimum, or were downright cruel to them. These experiences in his childhood were very formative for him as a person, and they sculpted his feelings on the prospect of having children quite a bit--in having seen both the best and the worse, he made the conscious choice that when he had children one day (never if--always w h e n), he would take these lessons he learned from watching others, and that he would use them to do his damndest to give his child the best, happiest childhood possible.

(( the main reason he never got around to it was because he was so apprehensive around men--particularly the ones stemmed from how his father was. His primary source of information on how fathers were was in his own--a man who was inexplicably possessive, volatile, and unforgiving, who expected to have total control over the lives of both the mother and child at all times, regardless of marital, living, or financial status. He expected everything to belong to him simply by virtue of having added a single ingredient to the family pot. And while they were less drastic or important in his formation of these feelings, Alastor noticed a watered down version of this mentality in pretty much every adult man he met in his entire life--and it didnt sit well with him in the slightest.

(( an overbearing, abusive father who refuses to back off would throw a major wrench in his plans to give his child a worry-free life, as you can imagine. As would financial troubles--though he would admit, choosing to pursue a career over family was moreso an excuse to keep his mind of his father anxieties--and the fact that he was just too nervous to try to find a solution to that problem.

(( and then he died. And he never got the chance to go through with any of his plans. That lost opportunity, that grief over wasting his chance, was another othe the puzzle pieces in the collage of grievances the spurred his explosive reaction to arriving in hell, and the destruction and ruin that followed.

(( he doesn't know it, but because ive decided to go through with making him half hellborn, ive also decided that he does have the potential to get pregnant still--just to sooth my own aching heart. Even if it never happens on this blog, just the potential being there makes me happy. And should be ever find out--he'd be very happy too. And far more eager to actually pursue that wish of his, likely without much thought to how being in Hell will complicate matters and make his goal that much harder to achieve.

((If it happened, whether or not hed regret it would depend quite a bit on the specifics of the situation--but that regret would always be for failing to think it through, and forcing his innocent child to live a life condemned without any way out. Not for realizing he didnt really want children. He's spent his whole life thinking about it. Hed never expect it to be easy, and he believes that fact is important to the experience--and perhaps indeed even the point. That he should be able to handle all of the bad things, so that his child wont be the one suffering through them.

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Habushu

Hey remember when @hiss-and-vinegar came over this weekend to hang out in a room and get drunk with Alastor? Yeah well things got unexpectedly fluffy. They really are doing an enemies-to-friends speedrun.

If the read more doesn't work then I'm sorry but it's not my fault because tumblr did it.

Sir Pentious

Pentious actually ISN'T drunk when he arrives, thank goodness. He slithers in like he owns the place, as one does. Tucked under an arm is an enormous picnic basket, and he's looking very proud of himself.

Alastor

"Right on time!" Alastor says that like they'd actually scheduled a time. He doesn't have an offering of food, but he does have a bottle of bourbon. He half offers it with an apologetic shrug and says, "If you'd warned me sooner that you were bringing food, I would have whipped something up too." Maybe next time.

He twirls a key ring with a single room key around a finger. "Shall we?"

Sir Pentious

Oh nooo dont' tell him that, Alastor. Now he's giving you the MOST smug face that he can muster.

"OH, DEAR, ALASTOR!!! WERE YOU CAUGHT OFF GUARD BY ME??? I SHALL CHERISH THIS VICTORY."

He is. Kidding? He slithers forward, and takes the bottle, before handing off the Very Heavy picnic basket to the stickbug Alastor.

"IF YOU ARE SSSSTILL HUNGRY AFTER THISSS, THEN WE COULD WHIP UP SSSOMETHING TOGETHER, BUT I DOUBT WE WILL HAVE TO."

Alastor

Joke's on Sir Pentious, maybe Alastor likes the smug face. Maybe he wanted Sir Pentious to be smug.

"Perhaps next time you'd cherish homemade snacks a little more?" The stickbug is stronger than his toothpick arms would suggest, but his eyebrows still shoot up a little at the weight of the basket. He supposes extra food WOULD be superfluous, wouldn't it? But he hefts it gamely and gestures toward the stairs. "Second floor, first door on the right."

His hopes soar at the thought of cooking with Sir Pentious. He can probably feign hunger. His stomach's nigh on bottomless.

Sir Pentious

Pentious' tongue flicks at the display of strength. Alastor didn't have the heft of a snake to rely on, so it was indeed impressive.

"I CHERISH THEM ALL THE SSSAME, AFTER ALL, I PREPARED ALMOST EVERYTHING WITHIN THAT PIC-A-NIC BASKET. YOU WILL SURELY BE DAZZLED BY MY TANTALIZING TREATSSS, MY FRIEND."

BOY this snake is in a REALLY GOOD MOOD!!! He begins the ascent up the stairs, zig zagging as snakes must. He knows Vaggie said she was avoiding the lobby, but he hoped to give a little frilly talon wave. Oh well. Door located!

Alastor

"Did you!" He tries to balance the basket on a hip so he can free a hand for opening it as he walks, finds it too heavy for that, and calls up a shadow to help support its weight instead. He's impatient and eager to find out what Sir Pentious's cooking is like.

He and the shadow trail slightly behind Sir Pentious as he tries to dig into the basket, humming distractedly along with his own background music as he does.

Sir Pentious

Inside the basket is...... OH IT'S LOCKED. IT'S ACTUALLY GOT A LOCKING MECHANISM.

Rest in peace, Alastor. No peeksies.

"YESS! APPARENTLY, EVERYONE ISSS ALWAYSSS SSURPRISED TO FIND OUT I CAN COOK. I LIVED BY MYSSSSELF FOR QUITE SSSOME TIME, YOU KNOW."

Alastor

Alastor has the sneaking suspicion that Sir Pentious knows him just a little too well. He tries to think of a way to open the basket, comes up with three, tries to think of a way that DOESN'T involve returning a broken basket to Sir Pentious, and by then they're in the room so it's a moot point.

"You have egg servants," he points out, dropping the basket on the coffee table. "But, point taken! Do I get to see the fruits of your labors now?" He taps a claw on the basket lid.

Sir Pentious

"I HAVE EGG SHAPED SERVANTSS, YESS."

He gives him a look, "BUT THEY ARE NOT VERY GOOD AT WHAT THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO. WORKING WITHOUT SOULS DOESS THAT."

Pentious slithers over to a nearby seat, sitting down on it and coiling his tail up to be out of the way. He can see Alastor being all eager, so he decides to milk that.

"WHY??? ARE YOU GOING TO LOSE YOUR MIND WONDERING WHAT LIESSSS WITHIN, ALASSSSTOR?"

Alastor

"You know, I just might!" He knows full well that the more eagerness he expresses, the more likely Sir Pentious will be to drag out the big reveal for his own sadistic entertainment. But Alastor isn't exactly dying of starvation, and he'd like to see Sir Pentious enjoying himself—so sure, he'll play along a little bit. It isn't like Sir Pentious is going to leave without showing off his food.

The nearest seat to the coffee table is a couch—it's a sizeable hotel room suite, with not just bedroom furniture but also a desk, office chair, armchair in a corner, and then of course the couch and coffee table. Alastor momentarily wavers over whether he should pull over one of the other two chairs, then decides to let his id win this one and plops down on the couch next to Sir Pentious. "I've been wondering since I saw you were bringing something!" he said cheerily. "Why, wondering what you're bringing is half the reason I didn't bring anything myself! I was trying to guess what might compliment your offerings without knowing what they were going to be."

Sir Pentious

Pentious, an enormous King Cobra Demon decorated in eyes looks down at this stick bug, his tongue flicking as he listens to the eager chatter of that frequency mingled voice. Alastor seemed in high spirits, too.... And while Pentious was still upset over what the Radio Demon of his own HELL had done, he could relax here... To a degree.

It was nice, in its own way, to be able to exist next to him again.

"A WISE DECISION," Penny begins, clicking his talons together, "AFTER ALL, OUR ABILITIES ARE INCOMPARABLE! YOUR BOLOGNESE WOULD NOT PAIR WELL WITH MY MODE OF PREPARATION, BUT I DIGRESS."

He slips his sleeve up, revealing a gadget strapped to his wrist. Upon pressing it, the basket pops open. Voila!

Inside, a bottle of brandy mixed with lemonade ("HOT TODDIE" has been scribbled onto a label), a bottle of Japanese spirits with a dead viper inside, a tea kettle, and then also an assortment of sandwiches made with salted meat and fish. Crumpets, jam filled biscuits, and also a plate or two of thinly sliced meat. One does what one can in Hell, and he obtained his ingredients in the Hotel.

Alastor

Alastor immediately pulls the basket over, and is almost just as immediately disappointed. Oh, sandwiches. Sandwiches and charcuterie. Sure, it was food preparation, but it wasn't what Alastor would call cooking.

But it's certainly serviceable. Alastor has gotten his own hopes raised too high, expecting to be wowed—this was about the level of his own Sir Pentious's culinary talents, after all. And who is he to turn down the simple pleasures of unadorned meat? "You know my tastes," he says wryly, snagging a slice. He quickly devours it and then gets to work eagerly pulling goods out of the basket.

He pauses at the bottle of snake booze, his dead heart jolting in his chest. After a moment, he murmurs, "You really know my tastes," and sets it firmly on his side of the coffee table. "Quite a spread! If it wasn't for the booze, I'd think we're having a proper tea party, here." Maybe tea parties do have booze? Alastor doesn't know, he doesn't exactly attend many.

Sir Pentious

All the while that Alastor is looking the items over, Pentious is leaning over to watch, his talons fidgeting nervously. He very clearly cares about the other's opinion, evidently from the look on the snake's face. His brow creased, the corner of his lips pulled down into an inquisitive frown. He was a picky eater, and texture played such an enormous role in what he could and couldn't eat... This followed into the things he'd prepare for himself. It was no wonder he was so thin.

"I PREPARED SSSIMILAR FARE ON MY OUTING WITH VALERA ON THE FIN-DE-SEMAINE PRIOR." AND HE WILL NOT TALK ANYMORE ABOUT WHAT WENT DOWN DURING THAT PICNIC. RIGHT IN FRONT OF THOSE INNOCENT SANDWICHES.

"THE HOT TODDIE WAS WELL RECEIVED! BUT THE HABUSHU ISS NEW. I AM EAGER TO TRY IT! I WONDER IF YOU'LL BE BITTEN BY THE SSSNAKE? HAHA!"

Alastor

"And she has exquisite taste," Alastor says, resisting the urge to cast a pointed glance at Sir Pentious himself. Oh, he knows how sensitive Sir Pentious is to the approval or disapproval of the people he's trying to impress—that's consistent across universes, too. Sir Pentious is not going to hear a word of disappointment and is not going to see anything but a smile.

"Ha—ha-boo-shoe?" That's a new one. "I'm already more than familiar with snake bites," he says, tilting his head to pointedly stretch his neck. He grabs up one of the fish sandwiches and asks, "Have you never gotten any snake alcohol before, then?"

Sir Pentious

Pentious grins devilishly at the reminder of their previous visitation, his fangs in full view. If you want an encore, just ask, Alastor ~

But he leans back on the sofa, waving a hand, "NO, NEVER. PEOPLE DO NOT SSSSEND ME GIFTSSSS. I NEVER HAD A CHANCE TO TAKE A BOAT TO JAPAN, ALTHOUGH I REALLY WANTED TO. THINGS OF JAPONAISE ORIGIN WERE COVETED DURING MY TIME!"

He gestures to the Habushu. "ALTHOUGH IF THERE WERE SSSNAKE ALCOHOL IN LONDON TOWN, NO, I NEVER RECEIVED ANY."

Alastor

Sir Pentious is going to have to tell him he can ask or else he's going to think it's kinda weird. Because he does want an encore.

He makes a mental note about the gift issue. "Oh, is it from Japan?" Alastor gives it another look. Huh. Well, what does he know about Japanese snakes from any other? "I think the kind I came across was Thai. Well—technically it was Hellish, but based on a Thai recipe, I mean."

Sir Pentious

His shoulders bounce as he laughs, snickering behind a hand.

"A HELLISH SERPENT SSSTUFFED INTO A BOTTLE?"

He looks delighted, "WHY, I WASS AN ALCOHOLIC! THAT'SS CLOSE ENOUGH! HHHAAAAA HA HAAAAA!"

DARK HUMOR!

Alastor

Alastor blinks in surprise. "Were you." He gives the bottle an uncomfortable glance, then forces his gaze away. "Ha! I had a decade like that! I've never seen a radio in a bottle, though."

SYMPATHIZING THROUGH DARK HUMOR!

"I suppose in place of a radio you could squeeze in one of those little wireless headphones that are supposed to go up your ear canal," Alastor says, with a slight sneer of distaste. "But I doubt it would do much for the flavor."

Sir Pentious

He grins wide at the shared understanding. WOW THESE OLD MEN. Pentious drags the tips of his claws across his lips, carefully.

"OH, I DON'T KNOW! IF YOU BROKE THEM JUSST RIGHT, MAYBE YOU'D FIND THE TASTE SHOCKING! IT WOULD SSSSPARK A NEW FLAVOR!"

Booooo.

"I HAVE NEVER WORN EAR PIECESSSSS, I DO NOT HAVE EARSSSS LIKE A HUMAN ANYMORE. AND BESIDESSS, I MUCH PREFER THE SSSSOUND THROUGH A GRAMOPHONE. I HAD ACCESS TO ONE OF THE VERY FIRSSST MODELSSS, YOU KNOW! "

Alastor

He's relieved when the conversation moves on without further questions. "Ha! A real jolt to the senses! If nothing else, it would probably improve the ear pieces."

Alastor's eyes light up. (More, anyway.) "Did you?" he asks with relish. "I shouldn't be surprised, early adopter that you are! I just didn't realize they were around in the 1880s. I heard my first in the aughts. I still prefer records myself! Not that I mind headphones, but..." He flicks an ear. "They don't make many models for me, either." A wan smile. "But then it's not a terribly high priority when you can do this." He briefly cranks the volume up on his disembodied background music before letting it settle down to a murmur again.

Sir Pentious

He leans on his hands, upon his coil and. EXCEPTIONALLY close to that grinning radio man. Tongue flick.

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE SSSO VERY ENVIOUSSS. IN 1887, EMILE BERLINER CREATED A PROTOTYPE OF WHAT YOU KNOW AS THE GRAMOPHONE!! AND...."

Demonic hungry beast-like grin.

"I THREATENED HIM FOR IT. HE GAVE IT TO ME. I HAD THE ORIGINAL, CRANK OPERATED MODEL!! SSSSUCH INGENUITY. SSSSUCH SSSTYLE."

A frown, "IT'SSSS TOO BAD I DIED THE NEXT YEAR, BUT THESE THINGSSSS HAPPEN."

Alastor

Alastor doesn't budge an inch back as Sir Pentious closes in, focusing the entirety of his attention on that wonderfully wicked grin. His eyes open more and grin stretches wide enough that it threatens to rip his face in two; his studio audience applauds at the conclusion of the story, all parties thoroughly amused. "You—are—RIGHT!" Alastor prods Sir Pentious's chest underneath his eye. "I am envious of you! The prototype, no less! There's being ON the cutting edge, and then there's being the one to sharpen the knife."

Alastor flashes back to where he'd been a year before he died—too bad, indeed—and shrugs. "There's something to be said for dying while king of the hill. No slow descent from the peak into the valley of the shadow of death." The words are still as chipper as he can make them but even to himself his tone rings somewhat hollow. He still misses those years he lost. Half his life unlived.

Sir Pentious

Oh, yes! Listen to that applause. Pentious leans back, placing his claws under his chin as he basks in the praise given to him. What a wonderful feeling, being adored! He purrrrrs, in that Cobra-Snarling Kind of Way. "YESS, NO SSLOW DESCENT AT ALL. I DIED IN AN AIRSHIP EXPLOSION!"

Alastor

"A—an airship explosion!" Alastor played back a couple of soundbites from the Hindenburg disaster broadcast—"it's a terrific crash, ladies and gentlemen"—"oh, the humanity!"—he couldn't help himself. "Well, talk about going out with a bang! Ha! What in the world managed to bring down an airship in 1888?"

Sir Pentious

Oh man, he has no idea what the hell Alastor just played, but it gets an inquisitive look out of the snake anyway. Pentious waves a hand dismissively, and leans over to pick up the bottle of Brandy+Lemonade.

"ENGINE CAUGHT. I WAS TOO HASTY WITH MY PREPARATIONSSS THAT DAY, OR ONE OF MY LABORERS HAD A MISHAP. REGARDLESS, HERE I AM! ALTHOUGH, IT'SSSS RATHER FUNNY... IT DID NOT FEEL LIKE MUCH OF ANYTHING. I RECALL THE HEAT, THE WAY MY SSSKIN WAS TEARING FROM MY LIMBSSSS, BUT THEN BEFORE I COULD THINK TO SSSCREAM, I WAS FLYING MY SHIP THROUGH THE BLOODIED SSSSKIES OF HELL. IT'SSS THE SAME ONE, YOU KNOW. MY AIRSHIP."

Even if he's had to rebuild it.

Alastor

Just a clip of one of the best tragedies Alastor died too soon to enjoy. He lives (so to speak) for opportunities to buy black market broadcast recordings of devastating news in the living world.

So he'd brought HIMSELF down—isn't that typical of most of Sir Pentious's losses? Alastor has to fight the urge to laugh; Sir Pentious wouldn't appreciate the humor.

But this is fast to be hearing about Sir Pentious's death. Especially in such depth. Alastor wonders if he's always this free with the details of his demise, or if Alastor is riding on the legacy of whatever intimacy his alternate had enjoyed with Sir Pentious. Or if Sir Pentious is trying to push through to intimacy as fast as possible before THIS alliance falls through, too.

Because that, Alastor is aware, is certainly what he himself is about to do. "Mine didn't feel like much either. The injuries before the killing blow, sure—but the last one? Just a quick pop on my forehead, and suddenly I'm backstage at a circus with an imp telling me to get out!" He huffs. This is the second time he's told a Sir Pentious about his death. The last time, it took fifteen years—and came less than a day before Alastor permanently broke off their alliance. "But—you brought your entire airship to Hell with you? That's rare! Very rare." And, if Sir Pentious's version of Hell operates on the same principles as Alastor's, means the airship is an extension of his soul. Alastor wonders if Sir Pentious himself knows that—he's run into far too many sinners who don't.

Sir Pentious

It was a toss up of reasons. Pentious found it easier to joke about his own demise, as long as it was him telling the story. It gave him a bit more control over the outcome, and even if he were to end up laughed at, he still chose to tell the tale. But why share it with Alastor? Well... He felt good, lately. It was a peculiar feeling--the snake had a habit of oversharing anyway, and sometimes he didn't catch himself quickly enough. But Alastor wanted to be friends, and, friends are the sort of people who overshare information, right?

At least, that was the impression the Inventor got from online interaction. You couldn't call yourself a friend without having shared strangely private matters of your own life. It was kind of a comfort slip... but as long as attention wasn't brought to the fact he was so open about it, Pentious wouldn't become defensive. He didn't know the ins and outs of friendship, didn't know what this kind of contract allowed or forbid. Maybe he had made an enormous mistake, sharing that much information... but now Alastor was telling him about his own death.

Pentious smirked, that greyish, reddish tongue slipping out between his lips as he listened in variable silence--he made a lot of noise just existing, but as Valera had described, he was like a white noise machine. Once the topic returned to him, Pentious looked a lot more comfortable, "YESSS, I DID! I'VE REBUILT HER UP TWICE NOW... THREE TIMESSS, SSOON TO BE. IT TAKESSS TIME. I HAVE TO BE IN THE RIGHT..." His eyes glance about, and his hood raises, "NEVER MIND ABOUT THAT. LET USSS HAVE A DRINK, SHALL WE, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

Alastor ponders over the missing end of that sentence. Right state of mind? Right mood? He feels like it has to be something like that—and if so, that suggests the ship IS a part of him, if its physical condition is dependent on Sir Pentious's inner condition.

But for now, he'll never mind about that. "Of course! That's what we came for!" He locates a glass and holds it out to be filled from Sir Pentious's bottle.

Sir Pentious

Pentious pours him a glass, careful to not spill it as he does... and then, he pours a glass for himself. The liquid is warm, which was the best way to enjoy this kind of beverage. He lifts his glass to Alastor's, "TO WHAT DO WE CHEERS TO, CHUM?"

Alastor

Chum, what a word. It sounds so... chummy. He considers the question, tossing out several options that are either too sentimental or too impersonal, and taps his glass to Sir Pentious's with, "To your not having to rebuild that blimp a fourth time for a good long while, how about that?" To Sir Pentious's health, both internal and external.

Sir Pentious

Oh ho! Now that's a good toast!

He clinks his glass elegantly against the others.

"YES, RATHER SO! HERE ISS TO THAT ENDEAVOR, HAHAAA!" Aaand he takes a big gulp. Burns all the way down, with a dance of sweet and sour on the tongue.

Alastor

Alastor also takes a deep swig—chokes, swallows hard, and coughs static. "S—sorry." Cough. He wrinkles his nose as he tries not to let the rest of his face twist. "Sweeter than I was expecting." He'd heard "hot toddy" and unthinkingly assumed it was made the same way he'd make one for a sore throat—with whiskey and the absolute minimum amount of honey he could get away with.

Sir Pentious

OH!! WHAT A REACTION! Pentious LAUGHS openly, his hood lifting up!!!

"NYA HA HAAA! LOOK AT YOU-- I FORGOT, YOU DO NOT LIKE THIS KIND OF THING!! NYA HA HAAA!"

Alastor

Alastor sticks out the tip of his tongue—ick—then grabs another sandwich to cover up the taste. (He has to grope a couple of times before his hand lands on one—his eyes are on Sir Pentious as he laughs, not on the coffee table.) He devours a couple of bites before he says, "If you 'forget' again, I'm going to start assuming you're doing it on purpose."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious couldn't look ANY more smug than he already does, and he leans closer to that Sour Faced Deer--even if he was still smiling, Pentious knew he definitely was caught off guard. Small victories. "OH, THAT ISSSS A DISSSSTINCT POSSSSSIBILITY."

Alastor

"I'm going to have my guard up next time," Alastor warns. He takes another small sip from the glass to see whether the sweetness is less shocking when he knows it's coming.

It is—but he's still not going to call it enjoyable.

Sir Pentious

You drink for enjoyment? Pentious prefers to drink to eradicate sensation. He takes a sandwich for himself, as well as a napkin, and leans back to start eating it. Yum yum. The sandwiches are missing their crusts, and the bread is very soft.

Alastor

He's tried to break that habit.

Alastor's not complaining; the less bread, the easier to enjoy the meat by itself. Alastor leans over to try to peer at the sandwich fillings and see if there are any flavors he hasn't tried yet, and grabs another. "So, hot toddy aside—were THESE chosen with my tastes in mind?" He takes a bite and, experimentally, grabs up one of the meat cuts to add on. "Because if they were, I'm flattered."

Sir Pentious

Pentious thinks, a moment, and he shakes his head.

"NO, I DIDN'T REALLY MAKE ANY OF THISSS WITH YOU IN MIND. I JUST WANTED TO BRING SNACKSSS AND BOOZE, SO WE COULD GET "HAMMERED". HAAAHAA!! THISSS ISSS SSTANDARD PICNIC FARE OF MY TIME, ALASSSTOR. YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN MISERABLE. NOT A RADIO IN SSSSIGHT. I WONDER IF YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN THE OPERA DEMON."

Alastor

"Well, lucky our tastes line up!" He lifts his glass again—cheers to that—and takes another sip. "... Mostly."

He doesn't have to contemplate the question long. "Probably!" It's something he's actually thought about—in death, being the Radio Demon has felt so correct that he has to wonder if he still would have been the Radio Demon had he died a century earlier, his powers lying latent until the radio receivers to react to them had been invented. Or maybe it was impossible for his soul to have been created until the technology he needed was ready. "I was trying to make it on Broadway before the radio came around. A generation before that, it probably WOULD have been opera. What about you, if you'd been born too early? I expect you would have had to start the Industrial Revolution all by yourself."

Sir Pentious

He snickers, grinning REALLY close to Alastor's head.

"AND YOU KNOW, I WOULD HAVE DONE SO!" He takes another gulp. There's no gentle sips here, "I HAVE AN EYE FOR INVENTION! I COULD NEVER SSSSIT BY AND LET OTHERSSS GET THINGSSSS SSTARTED WITHOUT ME. NO MATTER THE ERA, SHOULD I HAVE BEEN BORN INTO IT, I WOULD HAVE REVOLUTIONIZED IT!!!"

Alastor

Well, don't be shy, Sir Pentious, there's still a couple inches of empty air there.

He's getting tired of gentle sips himself. He opens his bottle of bourbon, drowns what's left of his hot toddy, and takes a deep gulp of the new concoction. Much better. "Oh, I have no doubt! That's what you're made for! You're still doing it now, even!" Alastor sure didn't see anyone else running around with rail guns like the one Sir Pentious has just cooked up.

Sir Pentious

Oooh, a straight swig from the bottle, eh? Pentious flicks his tongue, looking it over, before he puts his glass down and reaches for Alastor's bourbon, "COME NOW, DON'T BE sssSTINGY."

Alastor

"What, do you need to burn out the taste of honey, too?" He passes over the bottle then flops back against the couch cushion, enjoying the familiar burn down his throat.

Sir Pentious

"HARDER TO GET DRUNK OFF OF SOMETHING SSSSO SSWEET." ACtually, it's easier, but he doesn't like the sticky taste of honey so much.

Pentious fills up his glass near to the brim, which means there'd still be a hint of lemon and honey, but not quite as bad. He then takes a direct swig from the bottle and passes it back with a cackle.

Alastor

"Definitely not as enjoyable! I prefer to taste exactly how drunk I'm going to get off my drink." And if that means occasionally feeling like he's drinking paint thinner, so be it.

He takes the bottle back, almost takes a swig, stops, stares at the lip of the bottle as he thinks extremely hard about the implications, and then swigs with even more gusto.

Sir Pentious

Pentious leans over to grab his glass, and sits back slowly, as to not jostle the thing. Several big gulps, you can hear it noisily! OHH that burns. He purrrrrsss, and brings the glass down on the coffee table. Looking even more giddy by the moment.

"YOU KNOW, WE SHOULDN'T GET OURSELVESSSSS TOO DONE IN BY THE BRANDY... THERE ISSS SSSTILL THE SSNAKE BITE THERE."

He gestures to the Habushu, "UNLESSsss YOU HAVE ANOTHER BITE IN MIND!" Pentious, you already made this joke.

Alastor

There's a crackle like two stations trying to interfere with each other and brief garbled voices over Alastor's background music. Okay, all right, Alastor's got just enough booze in him to take the edge off his common sense. And Sir Pentious wouldn't have brought it up twice if he wasn't serious, right? "Are you offering?"

Sir Pentious

Hhhmmmm. He looks over at Alastor, wincing at the sound of crackling radio stations... He taps his grit teeth with a talon, thinking it over, "LET ME HAVE ANOTHER DRINK BEFORE I DECIDE!" Because that's always smart. He takes the bottle back so he can pour himself another glass-- but whatever. He'll just take a gulp or two from the bottle. He sucks in air! Feels great, and also horrible at the same time.

Alastor

Is that a drink to work up his nerve, or a drink to put off a distasteful task? "Up to you," Alastor says, as if it doesn't make the slightest difference to him. He takes up the bottle of habushu—HIS next drink is certainly going to be of the "liquid courage" variety—opens it up, and tastes it a little more cautiously than he did the hot toddy.

Sir Pentious

Unfortunately, Pentious had neither decision on his mind. He was just wanting to drink more--he watched Alastor taste the Habushu... He'd be greeted with a spicy, though definitely Strong taste. The smell was as if cinnamon were dipped into paint thinner. Excellent? The Snake outside of the bottle, wearing a blinking top hat, leans closer to Alastor, somewhat towering over him menacingly, his hood out.

"OR SHOULD WE SAVE THE BITE FOR LASsssT??? I DO NOT WANT TO CUT OUR MEETING SHORT."

Alastor

Tastes good to Alastor. Weird, but good. He drinks a little more.

And suddenly he's being loomed over.

He thinks he's starting to develop a little bit of a taste for being loomed over. Not many people have the courage to attempt a loom on the Radio Demon—and most of those people are boring as hell. A looming Sir Pentious, however, is a promise of an exquisitely interesting afternoon, often in the form of mass carnage and flattened city blocks. (And he looks handsome from this angle, to boot. Very imperious. Very sure of himself.)

"Oh! I can handle a little blood loss and keep going, don't you worry!" He pats Sir Pentious's shoulder reassuringly. "But you're right! Dessert comes after the meal."

Sir Pentious

Pentious only feels comfortable when he can loom over his enemies! Perks of being so long. And he may not have his airship, he's still very big in general. His eyes squint at the shoulder pat, but he sits back, pulling more of his tail up onto the couch. Pleasant rattling sound. While Alastor caresses that bottle, Pentious is going to fetch a few jam filled biscuits out of the basket and munch on them.

He really does look happier, these days. Like his color is more saturated.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious is leaning away, then Alastor is going to... maybe... lean toward. Keep that distance consistent and all. That's a good idea. (The alcohol is definitely kicking in.)

He elbows Sir Pentious and offers the bottle. "The snake booze is pretty good! Makes me regret not trying the other bottle I got. We oughta try the Thai variety some time, you know, for comparison purposes."

Sir Pentious

His neck does a weird accordion thing, but only briefly. Exaggerated movements, though not intentionally, his head swivels a little as he looks Alastor over. Taking the bottle now, and peeking at the viper inside. His tongue flicks and he grins.

"WANTING TO DRINK WITH ME AGAIN IN THE FUTURE, ALASSSTOR? YOUR LADY FRIEND WILL BECOME QUITE ANNOYED WITH OUR VISITSSSS."

Alastor

"Well, sure, the first couple times have gone well enough." There are a confused few seconds during which Alastor tries to figure out which of his lady friends Sir Pentious thinks would be jealous of these meetings; he can't think of anything to say in response except, "You're not worried yours will get annoyed?" And then he figures it out. "Oh—I wouldn't call Vaggie a FRIEND. Coworker at best. Anyway, we could go over to your side of things."

Sir Pentious

Valera always encourages these sorts of meetings, so he's not worried in the least in this case.

The mention of having their visits over on his side makes him think about his own Alastor, and the conversation he had with Valera... Pentious' expression grows a little dark, a red glow seeping into his eyes as he thinks on it.

Alastor

Alastor's watching Sir Pentious closely enough to notice that. He weighs his curiosity against his desire to see Sir Pentious in a good mood, decides that this friendship has been short-lived enough that not maintaining a good mood could ruin his chances completely, and he says, "Vaggie will get used to our spending time over here. Anyway, I don't know what she could do about it!"

Sir Pentious

He's startled out of his own brief intensity, and he leans back on the sofa, resting his head more on Alastor's side.

"MY PLACE COULD WORK, HOWEVER, THERE WOULD BE ANOTHER ONE OF YOU WATCHING USSS, AND CURRENTLY, I AM NOT LOOKING TO SSSSPEND ANY SSSSUCH TIME WHERE HE COULD BE WATCHING ME IN A JOVIAL SSSSTATE."

Alastor

Ah. "Think he'll try to ruin the mood? Maybe kidnap me in the middle and switch us out?" He laughs at the thought, then leans forward to grab—what's left?—another few pieces of meat.

Sir Pentious

That gets a LAUGH out of the old serpent, and he rests his head on his palm, grinning down at Alastor.

"I DOUBT HE'D WANT TO SSSPEND ANY LENGTH OF TIME WITH ME! BESIDESSS, HE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO RESSSIST CALLING ME SIR HAROLD. I WOULD KNOW THE DIFFERENCE IN AN INSSSTANT."

Alastor

"Harold." One corner of his mouth twists. Of all the names to settle on. "You know, I don't get why he wouldn't want to! I don't know why he—well—" He stopped, stumbling over his words as he realized he wasn't exactly heading toward neutral territory. "What it is he... doesn't see in you...r company." Smooth work, Mr. Professional Radio Host. Incredibly subtle.

Sir Pentious

The repeating of the name CLEARLY irritates Pentious, his glare fixating on the other with a snappy hiss sfx. But then he watches Alastor, of all Demons, stumble awkwardly through that mess of a sentence, and he raises a broooow. Huhwha.

Sir Pentious straightens up, polishing his claws on his suit, "YESSS, WELL, CLEARLY, HE IS AFRAID OF BEING SHOWN UP! ONE CANNOT SSSIMPLY BE IN MY PRESENCE WITHOUT THAT HAPPENING! I KNOW HE FEARS SSSSOME ASPECT OF ME, OTHERWISE, WHY WOULD HE BE SSSTAYING AWAY?"

Easier to tell himself that-- it was definitely more likely that Alastor just didn't give two shits about Pentious, and he knew that to be true, too.

His focus is back on the Stickbug.

"BUT YOU KNOW, YOU CLEARLY HAVE A FEW POINTSSSSsss ON HIM! AFTER ALL, YOU CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ME!"

Alastor

Can't get enough of me. He is going to sit forward and he is going to pick up a sandwich and he is going to chew on it a bit and he is definitely not buying time while he screams in his head, and there are certainly not very very quiet terrified howls buried beneath the background music.

Finally, he says, as though he never paused, "Well, OF COURSE! What more interesting company could one keep than a man determined to conquer Hell and capable of independently producing the all the firepower he needs to accomplish that task?! If my duplicate is AFRAID of you, then he must have ambitions I don't! And if he ISN'T afraid, then..." He gropes around for an explanation, then lamely concludes, "then... I guess he's just stupid."

Because he genuinely, genuinely doesn't know what it is that his alternate isn't seeing. He's sifted through enough parallel dimensions and met enough versions of himself to conclude that his sentiments are quite probably unique, and he doesn't know why. He isn't so different from his mirror selves; nor are most of the duplicate serpents he's seen so different from his own. And yet he's the only Radio Demon who's got thorns wrapped between his ribs like this. Why him? What are the other lucky Alastors missing?

Sir Pentious

Pentious is too tipsy to consider the sounds he's hearing in the background music, just watching Alastor idly.

What a way to end that thought! The Cobra laughs, and he holds the bottle of habushu up, beaming with enjoyment. Thoroughly, THOROUGHLY entertained. "I WILL DRINK TO THAT, ALASTOR. HE IS JUST STUPID, INDEED!" And he takes a swig, clearly not bothered by the viper inside. Then again, Cobras do eat smaller snakes primarily. The taste has more kick to it, and he offers it to this rideerculous man.

Alastor

Oh! Success! What a relief. Alastor accepts the bottle—who needs glasses, next time they should start out by passing bottles back and forth, he's loving this—and drinks deeply from it.

Sir Pentious

Don't swallow the snake, Alastor.

Pentious was definitely getting pretty hammered at this rate, though. At least ten minutes later, he's kind of... on the floor, but his tail is up on the couch, as he streeetches and hums to himself. He just looks so relaxed.

Alastor

And as long as they're getting comfortable, Alastor's going to take the opportunity to flop across the couch—and across as much as Sir Pentious's tail as he can get away with. If he DOESN'T swallow the snake, it's not going to be for a lack of trying. He's got the bottle upside-down and his tongue in the bottle, trying to coax the coiled-up corpse toward the opening so he can bite down. It's probably not going to be nearly as delicious as he imagines, but right now he's primarily thinking of the satisfying crunch of the skull.

Sir Pentious

Apparently Pentious doesn't mind Alastor lying on him--either he's too drunk to properly feel it, or he is too drunk to care. Or, the forbidden third option... he doesn't actually mind all that much. It would be hard to tell in this state. He purrs.........

"YOU KNOW, ALASSTOR, I HAVE BEEN 'STRAIGHT UP' MISERABLE FOR THE PASSST ONE HUNDRED YEARSSS! GIVE OR TAKE A DECADE OR SO. WHEN I DIED, I WASS OPTIMISSSTIC IN SSSOME WAYSSS THAT I COULD, WELL, MAKE IT WORK. AND THEN I MET YOU IN THE FORTY YEARSS AFTER THAT, AND IT WASS--WELL IT WASN'T YOU, YOU. BUT WE ALL KNOW HOW THAT WENT!"

He imitates the sound of a blimp crashing and exploding.

"AND, AFTER THAT, I THINK A PART OF ME FINALLY DIED! I HATED EVERYONE, EVERYTHING. I DOUBLED DOWN MY EFFORTSSSsss, AND FIXATED ON MY DESIRESSSsss, BUT I WAS COMPLETELY ALONE! EVEN AFTER HAVING THE EGGSSSSssss CREATED, THEY WERE A POOR SSSUBSSTITUTE FOR CONTACT."

Alastor

There is an actual audible record scratch as the background music finally shuts up. "Oh."

His pleasant buzz has quite abruptly shifted into nausea. He reaches past Sir Pentious to unsteadily set the bottle of Habushu on the coffee table, snake uneaten.

Sir Pentious

"AND YET...!" He continues, "I HAVE BEEN HAPPY FOR THE FIRST TIME IN DECADES.... BECAUSE OF VALERA! SHE ENTERED MY LIFE AND NOW I HAVE DRIVE ONCE MORE... SSSHE EVEN MANAGED TO CONVINCE ME TO GIVE YOU A CHANCE, ALASSSTOR...!"

He's beaming, pressing his hands to his cheeks as he rubs them. Oh no, he's so in love.

"I WENT FROM A BITTER, LONELY, HATEFUL MAN TO HAVING A FRIEND, AND...! A WONDERFUL WOMAN IN MY UNLIFE...!"

Alastor

Alastor stares at the ceiling as his nausea finds a way to twist into horrible new shapes. It should have been him. It could have been—if not for his own goddamn, stupid...

He rubs his face (still smiling? good) and then sits up to try to move from the couch to the floor—wow that's a lot of snake down there. He turns and tries to lift his legs over Sir Pentious's body to swing off the couch, loses his coordination, and falls off the couch to land on his ass on the floor with his legs flung across Sir Pentious's tail. He flings an arm around Sir Pentious's shoulders and declares, "And it shouldn't have taken you HALF that long to get all that—and more! Why, you should never have lost it in the first place." He leans closer to Sir Pentious and says insistently, "But you have it now, and I am TRULY glad that you do." And he is. As much as he desperately, furiously wishes all that could have come from him—he's proven quite conclusively that he's not at all equipped to offer it, so better that Sir Pentious found someone who is. "And you don't know how honored I am to have been given a second chance to be a part of it. Goodness knows I don't deserve it, ha!"

Sir Pentious

The sudden THUD of Alastor falling on the floor definitely startles Pentious enough to open up his hood--but soon he's got the deer next to his head with that arm around his shoulders, and Sir Pentious can't help the little smile that accompanies that. Friend.

"WELL, ALASSSTOR, DO ANY OF US DESERVE SSSssECOND CHANCES?" He was PRETTY drunk, just listen to that slurred speech. "BECAUSE THISSSS IS HELL, I THINK NOT! BUT.... FRANKLY, MY FRIEND, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN! WE'VE BEEN DOWN HERE LONG ENOUGH, LET'Ssss GET sssssSOMETHING OUT OF IT!"

And he bumps his head affectionately against Alastor's. Bonk. Probably better not to mention this to him when he's sober.

Alastor

If head-bonking is on the table now, then so is sustained head contact. It's like a bonk that doesn't end. He tilts his head sideways against Sir Pentious's, they're making contact, no take-backs.

"No, no, of course we don't deserve second chances." He laughs ruefully. "But there's the thing: if you don't deserve a second chance, usually that means nobody's going to GIVE you any! Which makes it all the more—all the more... Well, YOU DID! You said just a bit ago that you WERE optimistic—if you ask me—not that you asked me, but I'm telling you anyway—you still are."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious' tongue sticks out in the most ridiculous way as he practically beams. What a smile. It's like a large C trying to take over his entire face.

"OHH, DON'T INssssSULT ME~" he waves a hand.... "OPTIMISSSTIC.... SSUCH A FAR FETCHED IDEA! AND YET.... IT DOESN'T ALL FEEL SSSO POINTLESS, NOW."

He purrrrrrs. It's a cobra sound, deep and raspy, but the growling is curled enough to sound content. It's not a friendly sound if you're used to cats, but at least he wasn't about to bite.

"ARE YOU OPTIMISSSTIC, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

Pressed as close to Sir Pentious as he is, Alastor can practically feel him smiling without having to turn and look at it. He can DEFINITELY feel that raspy purr—even as calm as Sir Pentious is, there's an edge of something dangerous to the sound. (It reminds him of fangs sinking into his throat.) Alastor is sure the reason he feels a little light-headed is because of the alcohol.

"It's not an insult!" Alastor lays his free hand dramatically on his chest as if he's offended at the mere suggestion; then pauses and amends himself: "It would be an insult toward anyone else. But YOU wear it well!" He pauses again and amends himself again: "Wore it well. Anyway—no. I'm not. Not sure if I ever was one, but I'm even less of one now."

Sir Pentious

Alastor often talked so much, most of his commentary or idle prattle was just background noise.

Sir Pentious looks to the other--but since their heads are together, it's more like a nuzzle. Nuzzle nuzzle........

"AND WHAT WOULD HELP YOU BECOME MORE OPTIMISSSTIC? YOU'VE ALWAYSSSS BEEN A MYSSSTERY TO ME, ALASTOR."

Alastor

Ah, every radio host's greatest fear: to be switched on and left ignored in the corner, nothing but idle noise for a busy listener to hear but tune out.

Alastor 100% mistakes the gesture for a nuzzle and returns it eagerly. How did he get this lucky this fast?

"I—huh." He doesn't think "you" would make a very good answer. "Optimism is hard to come by in Hell."

Sir Pentious

Luckily, Sir Pentious is too hammered to question it, although he does make a face.

"DID.... YOU CHANGE YOUR HAIR?"

Yep. He's only just noticed now.

Alastor

He's too hammered to realize Sir Pentious really should have noticed sooner. "Oh! Yes!" He leans away slightly so he can turn toward Sir Pentious and point at his hair. (He's not letting go of Sir Pentious's shoulders, though.) "This is how I usually—well, I guess I can't say 'usually' anymore—how I used to wear it! How I prefer it. Do you like it?"

Sir Pentious

He has to focus his eyes a little, giving him a once over..... Hmmmmm.

"I'M NOT USED TO IT, THE RED SUITS YOU MUCH BETTER!" Or rather, Sir Pentious prefers it, "THIS STYLE DOES MAKE YOU LOOK YOUNGER...."

Alastor

His ears droop slightly, but it doesn't touch his tone as he says, "Well—don't you worry, I'm sure the red will be back soon enough! I never can manage to maintain this look." He wonders if "younger" is good or bad.

Sir Pentious

"WELL IT ISN'T BAD, I JUST DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE WITH IT. WE ONLY MET IN DEATH." Sir Pentious attempts to clarify, his tail slithering off the couch and.... FLOPPING on top of Alastor's body. Trapped.

Alastor

Trapped... or embraced??

"Fair enough. I'm not going to pretend I didn't act differently back when I looked like this than I do now!" He leans a little more heavily on Sir Pentious for a moment, "And I suppose I'd have to adjust if you showed up one day with a curtain of black hair instead of a hood."

He drops his free hand on top of Sir Pentious's tail. NOW who's trapped? "... Do you miss your body?"

Sir Pentious

Oh yes, definitely, it is Sir Pentious who is trapped. A prisoner of the deer.

The question gives him pause, and he thinks... Does he remember it well? Does he miss it?

"NO. NOT PARTICULARLY. I WAS A THIN, FRAIL SORT OF MAN. UNREMARKABLE. AT LEAST UNTIL I FINALLY BEGAN MY TERRORIZING OF LONDON, THAT IS."

He grins, "DANDY SUITSSS AND WHAT NOT. BUT, I SAY, I'M MUCH MORE RECOGNIZABLE LIKE THIS. I HAVE MORE PRESENCE THAN EVER BEFORE. LEGS ARE A HASSLE."

Maybe he can't waltz anymore, but it's not like he ever enjoyed those fancy parties.

Alastor

"Isn't everyone unremarkable until they find something to start terrorizing?" Alastor doesn't find many people remarkable, anyway. "Snakeskin suits you. I've SEEN pictures of you—other you—but I'm sure if I was asked to try to describe what you'd looked like, I'd describe you as a cobra first and then try to explain what's different."

Sir Pentious

"OH, HAVE YOU SEEN PICTURES OF ME?" Big. Big pupils. They're huge like kitten eyes as he looks at Alastor.

"RIGHT, BECAUSE OF YOUR HISTORY WITH THE SERPENT OF YOUR HELL..."

He flops his head back down, "FOR A MOMENT, I THOUGHT YOU'D HEARD OF ME FROM THE LIVING WORLD, BUT, AMERICANS LIKELY DON'T CONCERN THEMSELVES MUCH WITH THE ENGLISH ANYMORE."

Alastor

Oh, hold on, give Alastor a moment to stare into those eyes. Okay. He's good.

"Sure, I'd heard of you in the living world! Why, we covered you in history class! Early films showed who the top bad guy was by giving him long black hair."

Sir Pentious

what. WHAT

In a FLASH, Sir Pentious pinned Alastor to the floor, face mere inches from his.

"YOU'VE HEARD OF ME?? YOU WERE TAUGHT OF ME?? I MADE SSSSSOME KIND OF AN IMPACT???!!! DETAILSSSSS, MAN!"

Alastor

"I—sure, of course you made an impact! You invented air combat a generation before anyone else figured out how to get off the ground, how could you NOT make an impact?" How could HE think he hadn't made an impact?

Sir Pentious

He's. Staring.

Alastor

Alastor's staring back. He's really digging all this soulful eye contact.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious had just found out, after decades, that he'd ACTUALLY made an impact--nobody had ever known who he was, even soon after his death.

Apparently the Jack the Ripper murders were far more enticing than Pentious blowing up the Savoy.

Alastor

Sir Pentious is still staring. Alastor should probably give him a little more than that to go on. "They named an entire chapter in our history textbook after you. 'The Serpentine Decade.' Between Reconstruction and the Gilded... Do... do people not know who you are in your version of things?"

Sir Pentious

Oh no.

He's known? In a different variation of the world?

Pentious sits back, staring wide eyed into the middle distance...

"EVERY TIME I INQUIRED, NO ONE... NO ONE KNEW WHO I WAS. IT WAS AS IF MY DEEDS WERE COMPLETELY UNHEARD OF."

Alastor

Alastor watches his face closely, trying to figure out what he's thinking. Considering Alastor's own vision is a little blurry at the moment, he can't quite make it out. "Well—rest assured, as long as you're over here, there will be no one who's died in over a hundred years who doesn't know your name."

Probably a hyperbole—surely SOMEONE hadn't been taught their history properly—but certainly Sir Pentious himself was unlikely to run into anybody who didn't know.

Whether they still took him seriously after a few years dead and watching the reigning overlords sneer at the old supervillain's airships was quite another question, but Sir Pentious didn't need to know that.

Sir Pentious

He places his talons together, scratching at his gloves. Oh... This was such an amazing situation.

As long as he's here, EVERYONE knows who he is, historically speaking. But. Well.

Not the same Sir Pentious. The serpent suddenly felt envy flare inside of him, but he shook his head. No, no. Dwell on that later......

...... He looks back at Alastor, "WAIT. AREN'T YOU AMERICAN? WHY WERE YOU STUDYING ME?"

While his father was an immigrant, it didn't really make sense to him that that would do it.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious has to ask, then his history really IS different. Alastor fears that this little cross-dimensional compare-and-contrast is going to leave Sir Pentious not with the lesson "I'm remembered somewhere," but "a different version of me was more successful than I am." In the back of his mind, Alastor starts figuring out what he'll say if that happens.

"Over here, you decided to hop overseas before beginning your rampage. You were the absolute bane of the east coast. You made a far bigger impact on us than you did on England."

Sir Pentious

Well, that answers that! He smirks, looking devilish. "NYA HA HAAAAAAA! DID I FLY OVER? CAUGHT YOU ALL BY SSSSURPRISE, DID I? HOW ENTERTAINING! YOU KNOW, I SHOULD HAVE MOVED TO AMERICA WHEN MY WIFE LEFT ME... A NEW SSTART WOULD HAVE DONE ME SSOME GOOD."

He stares kind of. Hollowly at his hands. Instead, he'd lost several years of his life to addiction and insanity. And any chance of meeting his son.

"I WANTED TO BE RECOGNIZED--I KNEW I WAS BRILLIANT, BUT THOSE BASSSTARDSSSS REFUSED TO SSSEE IT. I MADE THEM SSSEE JUSST WHAT I WAS CAPABLE OF, EVEN IF IT COSSSST ME EVERYTHING."

Alastor

Alastor's not sure when his own Sir Pentious's wife left him—maybe it HAD been before he started his rampage? Certainly a wife had never been mentioned in any of the biographical materials Alastor had seen on Sir Pentious.

"I don't see how anyone could refuse to see it now," Alastor says dryly. "Unless it's out of sheer, stubborn spite! But if so, that says more about THEM than you, doesn't it?"

Sir Pentious

He lies down directly on Alastor. Yep. Crushing him.

"YES, BUT THEY ARE VERY LOUD, AND I AM TIRED....."

Alastor

Oh. Oh this is... this sure is something that only happened once, right before Alastor ruined everything.

Not this time. This time he's getting it right.

He slides his arms around Sir Pentious's back and holds him tight. "I'm louder." A dozen voices buzz like locusts under Alastor's words.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious' eyes widened, but... He didn't sit up in an offended rage. Instead, he processed what was going on slowly....

He was being embraced by his old friend. Alastor, from a version of events that seemed better off. The old inventor didn't move, but he didn't hiss either. He just breathed deeply.

"I KNOW YOU ARE, MY FRIEND."

Alastor

My friend. Alastor can hardly believe how good that feels to hear. To have this heavy weight on him, proving that this is all real. He lets his eyes slide shut, taking the rare opportunity to bask in the tactile sensations. "So if you ever need someone to drown them out... you know the frequencies you can reach me on, pal."

[ckret2]

So I’ve got a Spotify playlist consisting of the compiled contents of 81 different Alastor-centric playlists, like I just copied the contents of every single playlist I could find with no cultivation, no filtering, and no censoring. The one limitation I put was no duplicates of the same song—although multiple versions of the same song off different albums was allowed.

And since then I’ve been listening to this all-packed-together playlist on shuffle. It’s brought up several comments/questions. Highlights include:

- To every single person that includes a romance song with lines like “baby you’re my angel” or the like: are you a Radiodust shipper actually referring to Angel, or are you a Charlastor shipper referring to Charlie’s “fallen angel” heritage?

- One of you included an entire creepypasta story about the devil talking a man into killing his ex-wife and her lover as part of a 500-step-long plan to conceive the Antichrist and I’m not quite sure why it was on an Alastor playlist but I appreciate the characterization of the devil in it. I guess a creepypasta is kind of a radioplay of sorts? Maybe more Alastor playlists should just have random radioplays mixed in.

- To the person who included half a Kidz Bop album on their Alastor playlist: I’m not judging, I just wanna know why. I want to understand. I really want to understand.

- I respect all you people that included song covers by Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox and I understand where you’re coming from, but like, if you’re not familiar with music genres from before 1990, I suggest you look up which genre a given PMJ cover is trying to emulate, because if you’re stuffing PMJ covers on a playlist specifically to make them “sound like” Alastor’s era or because you’re going for “songs Alastor would like because they sound like what he’s used to,” then a PMJ cover that makes a 1990s song sound like a 1970s song isn’t quite in the right neighborhood.

- There are different philosophies that go into making a character playlist. Some go “the genre has to fit the character’s era and/or personal tastes, whether or not the lyrics do.” Some go “the lyrics have to fit the character, genre be damned.” Some go “these songs were big/popular when I was into this character so that’s what I associated with them.” Some go “these songs are really out there for the canon character but fit my headcanons.” Some people may have totally different criteria I haven’t even thought of! Anyway the point is: when you mix over eighty playlists together, you get every single playlist-making philosophy mixed together, and it’s an exciting experience to listen to.

- And on that note: every single genre on the planet is on this playlist. We’ve got Britney Spears, we’ve got Vocaloid, we’ve got Thomas Sanders (we’ve got a LOT of Thomas Sanders), we’ve got My Chemical Romance, Two Steps from Hell, Barry Manilow, Oingo Boingo, Within Temptation, Madonna, Kesha, Hans Zimmer, ... we’ve got the poppiest pop, emo, metal, electronic, folk, rap, rock, movie soundtracks, TV soundtracks, classical, disco, country, KPop, Carrie Underwood, every single decade for the last 150 years... and I’m deliberately leaving out all the jazz, swing, electroswing, and musicals, because those are a given for Alastor. Obviously those ones dominate the playlist but it’s amazing how much variety there is outside them.

- I’m frankly amazed by how much of this playlist is Thomas Sanders and Bendy and the Ink Machine. Like. It’s a notable quantity.

- That said, actually the playlist doesn’t quite include every single genre. Like, for example: I can tell y’all want to lean into Alastor’s New Orleanian/Louisianan/Creole roots from how many songs I’ve seen that include words like voodoo, Creole, New Orleans, bayou, uhhhh The Princess & the Frog, etc... And yet aside from a few New Orleanian jazz artists so far I have crossed paths with very little Louisianan music compared to, say... Undertale songs. So here. Start with some Cajun, try some Mardi Gras songs, I’m not totally sure how much of this playlist is “actually from Louisiana” and how much is “other people making songs that they think are Louisianan” but try this one anyway, and once you’ve oriented yourself a bit dig in here. I wanna see ten Alastor playlists with one song that includes “Zydeco” in the title or album name, stat. Sure, we know Alastor’s all jazz and swing and musicals, but I sure don’t listen to only three genres, you probably don’t listen to only three genres, and Mr. Radio Guy Whose Public Title Includes The Word “Radio” Who Likes Bursting Spontaneously Into Musical Numbers probably listens to more genres than you and me combined, and those genres probably started with what was local & accessible & common around where he grew up.

- Then again I haven’t listened to this whole playlist yet, sometimes I put it on shuffle and sometimes I put it in alphabetical order to try to slowly work through it from top to bottom (I’ve made it mostly through the C’s) so maybe y’all hid the Cajun & Creole music down in the D’s. But lemme say this: while randomly shuffling through the playlist, I’ve randomly run into multiple Irish drinking songs & shanties, and randomly run into zero zydeco, so like from those of you who follow the “music that sounds like what the character listens to” philosophy of playlist-making, non-jazz Louisianan music could use a lil more representation. If there’s room for twenty-six Billie Eilish songs there’s room for one BeauSoleil song. (I’m partial to “L’ouragon,” but you do you)

- Somewhere in this massive mixed playlist there are three parody medleys of Disney songs rewritten to be like “here are grimdark edgy lyrics about all of the terrible real-world things happening to the cultures depicted in these Disney movies!” and like, okay, I can see why that merits inclusion in an Alastor playlist, his big moment in the pilot was “take an optimistic song worthy of a Disney princess and rewrite it with grimdark edgy lyrics,” but those three songs still annoy the hell out of me because the specific way they frame the concept of their songs is that Disney movies/songs are “full of lies” and these songs reveal the lies. And then it’s things like... “Aladdin got captured and interrogated by the CIA,” which is definitely a thing that happened to a character living in an ambiguous time period that predates the existence of the United States, much less the CIA, much less the CIA’s meddling in the middle east, by several centuries. Disney was definitely lying about the reality of Aladdin’s day-to-day existence by not depicting American imperialism that predates America. Or “the characters in The Princess & the Frog have to deal with the fallout of Hurricane Katrina,” like, yeah, Disney sure is pulling the wool over our eyes by dishonestly denying the devastating consequences the 2005 hurricane had on 1920s New Orleans. Listen the lyrics are clever and all the things they discuss are real salient social issues but it still drives me nuts that the songs are framed like they’re revealing “lies” being told when half of the movies are taking place in (fantasy versions of!) time periods or locations where the issues they’re discussing didn’t apply, if they’d just framed that one line differently— Okay, okay, I’m finished, I’m done, I’ve got it out of my system

- Every single love song makes me go “are you imagining this song with a ship (and if so which ship) or do you just think Alastor would be into this song?” The question goes double for songs from the 20s/30s, because the odds that they added it to their playlist just because they think Alastor would like the song increases.

- On the other hand, if whoever added “A Formidable Marinade” isn’t a Charlastor shipper I will eat my hat. Also nice work on the gory cannibalism sex song.

- Every once in a while I’ll run into a song that makes me go, now how the heck did you end up on an Alastor playlist? Does this song line up with someone’s very specific headcanons and/or fanfic plot? Do they think Alastor would like this song? Did they happen to like the song and like Alastor at the same time and so they associate them with each other? Examples: “I Got You (I Feel Good)”, “iRobot” (is it the emotionlessness of being post-death?? do they headcanon that he’s got radio hardware replacing his guts?? is it a post-breakup ship song??), “Greensleves”, “Barbra Streisand” (the song, not the singer), “Jolene,” “The Last Steampunk Waltz,” “Seven Nights in Eire,” “Cruel Angel’s Thesis,” and the person who included half a Kidz Bop album, please, I just wanna talk—

- Every time I hear a song that includes the words “hell,” “sinner,” “smile,” or “radio,” I go, “Haha. Nice.”

- An incomplete list of songs that amused me for how on point they are: “Hotel California” (how often do you have a fandom where “Hotel California” is actually very blatantly fitting without having to twist through an extended & convoluted metaphorical interpretation?), “The Hunting Song,” “The Axeman’s Jazz,” and “Time Again”

- I sort of hate whoever put “Circus” by Britney Spears in their playlist and made me realize that lyrically it’s a perfect Alastor song because it is.

- *scrolls past six versions of “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows”* Haha. Nice.

- *scrolls past five versions of “It Don’t Mean A Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing)”* Haha. Nice.

- *scrolls past a song from Bambi* Haha. Nice.

- *scrolls past five versions of “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile”* Haha. Nice.

- *scrolls past eleven versions of “Sing Sing Sing”* Haha. Nice.

- What’s with those of y’all putting steampunk songs in Alastor playlists? Listen, listen: steampunk vibes are for Sir Pentious. Swing vibes are for Alastor. Don’t cross the streams. Take your steampunk songs and make Sir Pentious playlists with them. He could use more playlists.

- The playlist includes 39 songs that include “smile” somewhere in the title.

[sevensstories]

I Thought I Knew You Chapter 2: Contraband

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Angel Dust, Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Husker, Niffty, Cherri Bomb, Fat Nuggetz Ships: Radiodust slowburn Updates: Maybe every Thursday depending on my schedule Warnings: Alcohol mention, drug mention, mature content, mature language

Chapter 1: House Arrest Chapter 2: Contraband You Are Here Chapter 3: Day 1 Chapter 4: Day 2

Read it on AO3, or just read under the cut!

Alastor was a sadist.

That was something he could never deny. One of his favorite pastimes here in hell was watching lesser demons struggle through their miserable lives. Truth be told, that was one of the only reasons he signed up for the hotel in the first place. So he could entertain himself with the sight of Hell’s lowliest continuously trying to better themselves, only to fail miserably and fall into the pits of despair time and time again. It was quality entertainment at it’s finest.

However, when the tables were turned, that was an entirely different story. He did not appreciate feelings of fear or discomfort, and nothing made his ever-present smile falter more than the thought of himself displaying such weakness to another demon. Luckily for him, he was terrifying enough that anyone testing him was an extremely rare occurrence. Unless, of course, that anyone was a harlot named Angel Dust. 

Alastor had to admit, part of him was impressed by Angel Dust’s lack of preservation instinct. Most demons took one glance at him and turned tail. Angel Dust, on the other hand, had offered to suck his… well. What exactly he had offered was not of importance. What was important was that looking him dead (haha, dead) in the eyes and suggesting such services took either incredible courage or stupidity. From what he knew about Angel Dust, he would have to assume it was the latter. Regardless of the cause, the end result was the same. Angel Dust flustered Alastor, and Alastor hated it . So, when the opportunity arose to make Angel Dust squirm, Alastor jumped at the chance to return the favor.

Posing as Angel Dust’s warden should, if nothing else, prove to be an interesting way to pass the time. He was sure to catch the other demon doing something he shouldn’t, and he would delight in the opportunity to spoil whatever contraband fun he could. Angel Dust had pushed him too far for too long,  now it was Alastor’s pleasure to return the favor.

Speaking of his new duties, he did believe now was the prime opportunity for what would soon become a routine room search.  Charlie had given Angel Dust the afternoon as one last sweet taste of freedom (Supervised, of course, and at Alastor’s suggestion. Nothing was crueler than showing him exactly what he would be missing for the next month), so his room would be uninhabited for the next couple of hours. This was the perfect time for Alastor to get better acquainted with Angel Dust’s room and all of its potential hiding places. 

Humming a gentle tune, Alastor made his way to the room in question. He only hesitated for a moment before opening the door. He would be lying if he said part of him wasn’t troubled with what he would potentially find. Alastor had no doubt Angel Dust had a hidden stash of alcohol and his beloved drugs, but that wasn’t what concerned him. There was one thing Alastor was sure Angel Dust had to have hidden away and, as much as Alastor would much rather ignore it, he couldn’t very well let him go on keeping it. Confiscating his, ahem, toys , would hit far harder than any missing substances. Although Alastor would never go on looking for such things of his own accord, watching Angel Dust agonize over their loss would be more than worth it.

He glanced around, taking in the room around him. He had never come here before, and he wrinkled his nose a bit when he was reminded why. It was very pink , the color making up the majority of the decor with both black and white accents. The bed was in the shape of a heart, because of course it was, with silk sheets and incredibly plush, fluffy pillows. A soft, light pink rug rested near the foot of the bed, large enough to cover the center of the room. A television was pressed back onto the far wall, along with a small dresser. A bookcase sat near the bed along with a nightstand with a small, pink lamp. The dimmed lights of the room set a suggestive tone that made Alastor scoff, and the entirety of the place smelled very much like the night clubs he so adamantly refused to set foot in. Overall, Alastor could safely say it was exactly what he had been expecting, save for two small details. The tidiness of the room and the fact that the bookcase was definitely not empty, and he had a hard time believing Angel Dust actually read . He ventured closer, peering at the titles out of curiosity. What was it that the other demon enjoyed from the literary arts?

Oh.

Alastor’s smile faltered for just a moment before he turned away. Those were not, in fact, books, but rather his very extensive collection of his own… films . He vaguely remembered Charlie mentioning letting him keep them, as they were something he made rather than indulged in, and of course he would keep them front and center. How tacky. 

Doing his best to put the films out of his mind, he continued to explore the small room. Now, if he were a certain sex-obsessed demon, where would he keep his stash? There were no obvious hiding places, not unless Angel Dust was simple enough to hide things under his bed.

...Alastor decided to check under the bed. 

He bent down and pulled up the bed skirt, mentally preparing himself for anything he may find. He was surprised to find absolutely nothing.

“Hm. Maybe not so simple after all.” He let the skirt fall before he straightened up, glancing around the rest of the room. Where else to check? He peeked in the drawers of the dresser next, pleasantly surprised with what he found. Although there were a few more risque lingerie items, the majority of the casual wear looked to be more for comfort and less for style. Oversized, soft sweaters, loose shorts, clothing he never would have thought Angel Dust found appealing. He peeked under the clothes and felt around the drawers, checking for hidden items and false bottoms. Surprisingly enough, he found nothing. Alastor pursed his lips as he scanned the rest of the room, arms tucked behind his back as he took slow steps around the perimeter. If he were Angel Dust, where would he-- 

A soft creak underneath his foot caught his attention. That was odd, the floorboards of the hotel rarely made a sound. He looked down, brows furrowed. The floor had creaked from under the rug. The perfect cover for if someone had wrenched up one of the floorboards and wanted to hide it. His grin widened as he knelt and shoved the rug aside, quickly spotting the one board that was up slightly higher than the rest. Pulling it back took little to no effort on his part, and he was greeted by the sight of a rather extensive stash of bottles of liquor and several bags of white powder.

“There we go!” His giddy tone betrayed his delight. “Now, I knew you were struggling, dear Angel Dust, but my my if you don’t keep enough to truly indulge .”

He wasted no time emptying the crevice, making sure nothing remained before he put everything else back the way he found it. There, that was one less thing Angel Dust could abuse during his house arrest. Although, Alastor couldn’t help but notice that there was something missing. Angel Dust specialized in one thing, and Alastor was well aware that he had an assortment of tools. He had mentioned his fondness for them on a number of occasions, much to Alastor’s disgust. If he hadn’t put all of his contraband in one place, where else could he have possibly hid them?

Alastor had to admit, Angel Dust was more clever than he had expected.

He spent the next few minutes searching the rest of the room, looking everywhere from behind the television to the insides of the bed posts. When his search proved fruitless, he was left frustrated and at a loss. Alastor knew Angel Dust had ties with the mafia during his former life, and that that meant he probably was no stranger to finding wonderful hiding places, but this was absolutely ridiculous. Angel Dust was definitely not one of the craftier demons in hell, and Alastor would be damned if he was outsmarted by a drug addicted, sex obsessed harlot.

He scanned the room one last time with a sigh. He had searched everything . Maybe he had been mistaken in his assumption. Maybe Angel Dust hadn’t managed to keep his beloved “toys”. Maybe the only thing he had kept from his former life as a pornography star was the collection of films that lined his bookcase.

Alastor’s eyes widened. The bookcase . He had been so eager to avoid it that he hadn’t bothered to examine it for possible hiding places. He hesitated for only a moment before he dared venture over, inspecting the thing far closer than he ever would have liked. Nothing out of the ordinary on the surface, just rows of films that Alastor would much rather had not been there. He considered a moment before he pulled them off the shelf one by one, opening the case and inspecting it before closing it and putting it back in its place. Well, he certainly wasn’t hiding anything inside of the cases, which meant Alastor had exposed himself to those graphic covers for nothing. There were parts of Angel Dust he would have been happy living the entirety of his afterlife without seeing, and he would really have rathered it had stayed that way. Oh well.

He leaned to look at the back of the bookcase, eyes running over it to spot and irregularities. He was highly disappointed to find none. It was clearly an ordinary bookcase, much to his disappointment. He supposed confiscating the drugs would have to do. He gave the bookcase one last glance over before heading out, but something made him stop. The bookcase was fairly wide from front to back, that much was clear from examining the sides.Then why, pray tell, were the shelves so shallow? There was hardly room for even the films to fit, the disc cases pushed nearly to the very front edge. He paused before stepping closer to the shelf, bringing up a hesitant hand to knock on the back wall. He was rewarded with a soft, hollow sound.

Alastor’s grin widened with the discovery, his eyes glinting deviously. He had to admit, a false back was crafty, more clever than anything he would have expected Angel Dust to come up with. Once he cleared the shelves of films, he was able to see just how seamless the set-up was. Nearly flawless, save for the back of the shelf not lining up with the back of the case. Really, it was brilliant, but not brilliant enough. He removed the false back, revealing rows of instruments that could only have one purpose. Alastor sighed and materialized a bag into his hand. Although he would rather not touch any of these, especially while knowing where exactly they had been, it would be more than worth it when Angel Dust found them all missing. 

Alastor just hoped that he was around to hear his cries of anguish at the discovery.

-xxx-

Angel Dust made his way back to his room, Fat Nuggetz cradled in his arms. If this was going to be the last time he was going outside for a while, it was only fair that his pet got to go too. He doubted anyone would be willing to walk them, and they needed the not-so-fresh air as much as he did. He stepped into his room and sat Nuggetz down with a sigh. “Alright, Nugz, guess this starts now…”

Angel Dust stopped and tensed. Something was wrong. 

He scanned the room, looking for anything that may have caught his attention. Was it just him, or was the rug just slightly off? His eyes widened. Oh, oh no, not the rug. Angel Dust didn’t hesitate to kneel and rip the rug up, eyes darting to the floor board he had pried up when he first moved in. It came up easier than usual and he was greeted with the sight of an empty cavity. He sat there in shock for a moment before he felt rage begin to bubble up in his stomach. Vaggie and Charlie had both been out with him, so this left only one culprit.

“My drugs! That son of a bitch!” He snarled, gripping the floorboard tight enough to crack it. “Nuggetz, I swear to fuck, when I find that dial-eyed bastard I’m gonna rip him to pieces!” 

Of course, when Angel Dust took a moment to consider, it was very clear that there was nothing he could do to Alastor for this. Even if Alastor wasn’t powerful enough to make challenging him impossible, there was no way to confront him without admitting he had the stash in the first place. It was the perfect crime, and it really pissed Angel Dust off. He took a deep breath to calm himself so he could think. Okay, so Alastor had taken his drugs and alcohol, and withdrawal was probably going to be a bitch. But at least there was one thing he hadn’t found. His eyes wandered over to his bookcase, his personal collection perfectly in place. Just as he had left it.

“At least I get to keep somethin’ ,” he murmured to himself as he stood and walked over to the shelves. With practiced hands he took out the false back, not even disturbing the DVD cases that rested in front of it. However, his smile was quick to fade when he discovered that this too was empty. “No, no no no no no , how?!” He ripped off the backs of the other shelves, desperate to find something that remained. He threw the boards down on the floor with a cry when his search proved fruitless.

“ALASTOR, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, I’LL KILL YOU!”

-xxx-

“ALASTOR, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, I’LL KILL YOU!”

Alastor glanced up from his book as Angel Dust’s voice echoed through the empty hotel hallways, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Ah yes, there were the cries he had been waiting for.

[angelfire115]

The one who fell part 5

Alice slightly shifted in her waitress dress, she felt a bit nervous walking out to serve people, even if she was suppose to fake it. She grabbed a tray, a note pad for taking orders then left to the open bar. She looked around to see everyone chatting and drinking. She looked to the corner to see the two men waiting, those were the targets for Angels prank, she had been informed that their names were Burtly and Brock and they were known as the Bastion brothers. They sold drugs and weapons to any buyers and were not to be trifled with since they knew how to fight and how to use all kinds of weapons. Angel made a plan to have Alice pretend to be a waitress and serve them, then at the right moment, "accidentally" spill the drinks on them. They'll have no choice then to go and clean up, once they left, that's when Angel and Alice steal the weapons and explosives and run for it.

Alice has worked as a waitress before at a small cafe while she was at college. However, this was a bar filled with demons, things would probably work differently here. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to calm herself before. When she thought her nerves had died down, she walked towards them. She was eyed by some customers, all of which were men, hungrily staring her down like she was a snack. When she made it to the two men, she put on her best smile and presented herself like she'd worked there for a million years. Alice: "Hello boys, may I take your order?". The two men stared at her intently, not saying a word until after looking at her up and down. She stood there, wating patiently like a normal waitress but her mind screamed and her body was tense.

Burtly: "Yeah, I'll have a pint of beer and some fries, no sauce". Brock: "And I'll have the same but with ketchup for my fries". Alice relaxed and wrote down their orders, still acting as professional as possible. Alice: "Okay, anything else?". Both the boys shook their heads and she headed off to place in the orders. Lucky for her, the other waitresses that were here were quickly disposed of by Angel who is somehow good at knocking people out and the people of the back in the kitchen had no clue nor did they ever leave the kitchen until closing time. She placed in the order and it went through. Not to seem too suspicious, she continued to play as waitress and went to serve other customers, after 30 minutes, the order for the two targets were done and she picked them up to serve.

Now this was the difficult part, she'd have to fake falling down and get both boys dirty so they'd both leave. How she would do that, she had no clue. She looked over to the little window that Angel was watching from and he gave her a thumbs up and a big smile. She shyly smiled back, not feeling as confident. While she was distracted however, she tripped on another mans foot and the food went flying. The two boys who were the targets got instantly drenched in beer and fries with sauce. The person Alice tripped over, got up and angrily started to yell at the girl. Telling her to watch her step and such. As he yelled, the two boys got up to face him, they were peeved that not only were their meals in ruins, that they had been caught under it. Burtly: "Hey, were you the reason this girl tripped over?". The man looked up at him, not intimidated by his size and yelled a yes in his face. Burtly slammed his fist in his hand as his face contorted angrily while his sharp teeth started to show.

Burtly: "Because of you, my meals been ruined and so has my drink, you should apologize". Both Burtly and Brock stared at the demon, their eyes glowing red. The person backed up a little but didn't give up. Yelled at them that they didn't want to mess with them. Within seconds, Burtly knocked the man to the other side of the dining area, slamming into other people while food was flying everywhere. Everyone in the entire bar started fighting, people shouting and breaking things, while fists and weapons were flung around. Alice didn't know what to do, she crawled backwards towards the wall, watching the mixture of demons brawling eachother. She would have stayed there till it ended if not for Angel coming in and grabbing her. He gave her some weapons and explosions to carry while he carried some as well and they both took off, out the door and onto the streets.

After running for a while, they found an empty alleyway and stopped to catch their breath. They both looked at each other, not believing what happened. They both suddenly broke out into fits of laughter. The entire situation was terrifying and hilarious. Angel dust: "Wow, that was f***ing amazing, how the f*** did we get out of there?". Alice, still laughing tried to talk as well. Alice: "I don't know, hehehe, I've never done that before, even when I was home". After a few seconds of calming down their laughs, Angel noticed what Alice said. Angel: "Really?". Alice: "Yeah, never in my life did I think I'd end up in hell and be doing this, it's so funny". Angel dust: "Eh, well that's what happens when ya sin, you end up in this dump". Alices laughter slowly rose up again as she thought about it. Alice: "The thing is though, I never commited a sin, I didn't even die, I'm somehow still alive, well I guess that's what happens when you step on a drawn pentagram surrounded by strange items, hahahahahaha".

Angels eyes went wide after hearing this, what in the world did she just say? Alice realized that her big mouth just told Angel the biggest secret she's had since she had gotten here. She looked to see Angels expression written in disbelief. Alice: "Well, what I mean is...I uuum, the thing is I...". She stuttered trying to find the right words but she couldn't, it was out in the open. She had hopped the first person she would tell would be Charlie but guess not. She sighed in annoyance, realising there was no point in hiding it. Alice: "Okay, if I tell you the truth, can you not tell anyone else, please?". Angel nodded slowly, his expression still surprised. Alice inhaled and told the story, about the creepy people and the pentagram on the ground and when she was engulfed by flames and then sent to hell. She also told him the story of when she first met Alastor.

Angel didn't say a word till Alice finished but was still shocked over the whole thing. Angel dust: "Holy sh**, haha haha haha, that's hilarious". Angel continued laughing pretty loudly making Alice pout. Alice: "Come on Angel, it's not that funny". Angel snickered while trying to calm his laughter. Angel dust: "It is kinda funny". Before they could speak more, the silhouette of the Bastion brothers showed up at the end of the alley. Brock: "There they are". Both Alice and Angel ran for it down the rest of the alley. Running past people, jumping over fences and etc. They ended at a split off that went to two different directions. Angel dust: "Alright, you go that way, I'll go this way". Alice: "Wait, we're splitting up". Angel dust: "It's the only way we'll lose them, I'll meet ya back at the hotel, good luck toots and don't lose any of the gear". Alice watched as Angel disappeared from her sight. Hearing footsteps, she had no choice but to run the other way. She went down every ally she could go down, not caring where she was going, as long as she didn't die. This situation reminded her of when she was chased by Alastor. That memory wasn't comforting in the least as she felt her heart beating faster and her pace becoming quicker.

To make it worse, when she turned a corner, she ended up at a dead end. She didn't know what to do. She tried to turn around but sadly, one of the brothers was there. It was the bigger one, Burtly, he didn't look happy. She backed up to the back of the wall. Her heart racing even faster. Her life flashing before her eyes. Her parents, her family and friend's. The times she had in the living world raced through her head like a movie. Burtly: "Gotcha, you really think you could run forever, hey you b****". As he got closer, tears started to well in her eyes. Her mind racing uncontrolabley. Apparently her pathetic state made him laugh as he approached. He raised his arm up ready to attack. She knew with one swipe, he could kill her in seconds. She closed her eyes to ready herself and then.... Nothing happened. She opened her eyes to see him not moving in inch but his face contorted in pain. His stomach bursted open, covering her in his blood and insides. As the body fell to its side, she was surprised to find who was behind him. It was Alastor, he looked at the body with an amused and dark smile then back to Alice who was star struck over what she just witnessed.

He slowly approached her, holding out his hand like nothing happened. He held a handkerchief so she could clean herself but she didn't move. Alastor: "Hello there Alice, it looked like you were in a bit of a pickle so I had to intervene, I hope thats okay". As the blood dripped from her face, she couldn't move or speak, she was too much in shock to really do anything. Alastor stood looking at her unsure on why she was so silent. Alastor: "Ali-". In that very moment, Alice collapsed and passed out... Again. Meanwhile over to Angel dust, he had made it to the streets after only a few minutes of weaving through the ally. Happy to see the light, he looked back, not seeing a sight or hearing a sound from either of the Bastion brothers. When he looked back, he was shocked to find Vaggie standing before him with an angry scowl forming on her face. Angel dust: "Oh uh, hey Vags, what up?". Vaggie didn't say anything but still looked furious which meant Angel was in trouble. Vaggie: "Where, is, Alice?". Her voice echoed in rage which Angel knew too well. Angel dust: "Well we kind of split up and-". Vaggie: "YOU WHAT??!!". Her loud voice echoed as everyone around them turned their heads to them both, staring as if they were crazy people. Vaggie inhaled deeply, trying to calm her nerves and she held her forehead with her fingers. Vaggie: "Which way did she go?". Angel pointed back at the ally, meaning she went the opposite direction. Charlie: "Vaggie? I thought I heard you and Angel? What are you both doing here?". Charlie had appeared out of nowhere, she heard Vaggie yelling and came to investigate. She surprised them both as well. Once Charlie saw the weapons Angel was carrying, it was obvious something bad happened. She sighed in annoyance and almost dropped her load of shopping she had.

Charlie: "What did you do this time Angel?". Angel looked at Charlie, offended. Angel dust: "What makes you think I did anything?". Both Charlie and Vaggie looked at Charlie, there eyebrows perked. Angel slouched down, admitting defeat. Angel dust: "Okay, fine, I was bored and so was Alice so we went to prank some guys that stole from me and we ended up stealing their weapons but they found out and followed us so we split up to lose them better". Charlie looked stunned, she couldn't believe a word he said. Charlie: "Are you serious Angel?". Angel dust: "Come on, she'll be fine, she was awesome when she pretended to be a waitress and caused a fight to happen with everyone in the bar. It was hilarious". This made them worry more, she would definitely be in trouble if either of them caught her.