#constant sensory overload hell

[fandom-space-princess]

everyone who has ever had to endure orthodontic treatment deserves a zillion dollars compensation

[griffonsgrove]

Hi I saw your request for Hazbin Hotel I watched it and I'm simping for Alastor and was wondering if you could do Alastor x fem or gn reader where Alastor uses his radio static like white noise to calm down the reader when they have sensitivity overload or a panic attack or just to destress sorry if this is worded bad

Radio Static || Alastor x GN!Reader

a/n: Hiya!! This was a super sweet request to make! I myself get easily overwhelmed, especially with big groups of people, and it's comforting to finally get away from all the noise and interactions! Please enjoy this cute little oneshot! Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Wordcount: 691 Cw: minor hazbin spoilers

It had nearly been a week since Sir Pentious was welcomed into the Hazbin Hotel, by none other than the princess of hell, Charlie. She had decided to throw a small little get-together to celebrate. The princess had such an eccentric, bubbly personality, it was hard to ever say no to her. You were never one for parties, your sensitivity to the constant noise, the vibrant colors, and the chaotic atmosphere sometimes became too much to bear. It was during one of these moments that Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, noticed your distress.

You had retreated to a quiet corner, trying to find solace in the midst of the infernal commotion. Alastor, ever perceptive to the emotions swirling around him, followed you with a keen interest. Seeing the subtle signs of your discomfort, he decided to offer an unconventional remedy.

Alastor approaches you with his trademark grin, his red eyes gleaming with an unusual warmth. "Why, what seems to be the matter, my dear?" he inquired, his voice holding that dazzling charm he always seems to have. You struggled to find the words, but the overwhelmed expression on your face spoke volumes. Sensing your need for relief, Alastor's grin widened, with the wave of his hand, he quietly motions for you to follow him. "Come now, don't you worry. I have just the thing for such occasions." He abruptly turns on his heel, delving deeper into the depths of the hotel.

You’re skeptical at first, but willing to try anything at this point, you decide to follow him. He leads you down a series of hallways, the sounds of the other patrons begin to slowly fade away as you walk. He stops in front of an intricately carved door; you didn't have much time to admire the craftsmanship before he opens it. You tilt your head to the side to peer over his shoulder. It seemed to be his private den. There's a little sitting area, in front of a small fireplace, which was adorned with all sorts of knickknacks, the most notable being a large rack of antlers mounted on the wall above, but what caught you off guard completely was the other entire half of his room, it was a swamp! Literally, the wood flooring splintered off into lush grass, and numerous cypress trees can be seen looming in the distance, the trunks covered in a thick moss. 

Alastor steps to the side, politely gesturing for you to enter first. With slight hesitancy, you step inside quietly, taking note of all the framed pictures that hung on the wall.

His voice cuts through the silence "Sit, my dear. Allow me to ease your troubled mind," he motions to one of the empty padded chairs. You oblige, sitting down on the plush cushion. With the snap of his fingers, He conjures up his vintage radio, the static already emitting a soothing white noise. For a moment he fiddles with the dial, adjusting the frequency. Soft static filled the air, drowning out the overwhelming sounds from earlier. At first, it seemed odd, but as the white noise enveloped you, a surprising sense of calm washed over.

Alastor sat across from you, his eyes never leaving your face as he observed the way you slowly sank back into the padded chair. The radio static acted as a protective cocoon, shielding you from the sensory onslaught. His presence was oddly comforting, and you found yourself relaxing under the influence of the unusual but effective remedy.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence. You weren't entirely sure how much time had passed, minutes? hours?, the static acting as a barrier between you and the chaotic world. Alastor broke the silence with a soft chuckle. "Remarkable, isn't it? The power of a little radio magic."

You managed a grateful smile, genuinely appreciating the respite he provided. It was an unexpected yet strangely effective solution to your sensitivity overload. As the static continued its comforting hum, you felt a sense of gratitude toward the Radio Demon who, in his own peculiar way, had offered you a moment of peace in the midst of the Hotel’s pandemonium. You remind yourself to apologize to Charlie later for leaving the party so abruptly.

[rottenpumpkin13]

The entire soldier floor is covered in bubble wrap. How is everyone dealing with this, and long until Lazard cracks because someone is clearly conducting a social experiment, possibly on him specifically?

Sephiroth: At first: visibly irritated at the constant crisp pop-pop-pop-pop in his ears. The first pop beneath his boot was accidental. The second… was not. Now he's been stuck in popping hell for three hours. He must pop. Can't not pop. It is compulsion, addiction. It's an enriching activity. He paces the halls silent except for the rhythmic snap-snap-snap echoing with him. Has started rearranging his training routines just to maximize popping surface area. Walks up behind Genesis and just… pop. Stares at him. Walks away. It's his favorite form of microaggression. He does it solely to ruin Genesis' day.

Genesis: "Sephiroth. Please. I beg of you. ENOUGH." Has reached the end of his rope. Stuck in a nightmare of sensory overload because someone won't stop pacing like a metronome. Tries to read Loveless and gets interrupted every five seconds by a POP from across the room. Sephiroth pops in beat to the Stamp theme song now. Genesis is in hell. Last anyone saw Genesis, he had both fingers jammed in his ears, power-walking down the hall like a man fleeing divine punishment. Behind him, the divine punishment— Sephiroth— followed aggressively popping the bubble wrap.

Zack: Living his dream. "You can't get hurt if you can't get friction!" is his new battle cry. Has invented seven new stunts, 5 of which involve fire. Security camera footage surfaced of him bubble wrapping the entire floor. Now being hunted by Angeal like a war criminal. Currently hiding in the vents. He knows what he did. He is a fugitive from justice. And also Angeal.

Angeal: Has become a walking PSA. Circles the halls like a stressed mother hen in a school with sugar-addled toddlers. "Don't wrap it around your neck!" "No, that's not food—DON'T EAT IT!" "Kunsel, if I see you jump off that railing one more time—" Constantly pulling Thirds out of burrito-rolls of wrap. Has written five memos on safety protocol, none of which anyone has read. Also furious at Zack. Keeps trying to chase him, popping everywhere he goes like a stampede of popcorn, still lecturing as he vaults over desks and screams "ZACK FAIR YOU ARE GROUNDED UNTIL CHRISTMAS"

Cloud: Doesn't even know what he's doing at SOLDIER (help him). Just trying to get to the infantry barracks. Slipped, hit the floor, bounced into a wall, popped three layers of wrap, and now just refuses to walk like a normal person. Is seen crawling on his hands and knees, popping aggressively. Zack keeps dragging him into stunts. "It's safe, buddy! It's all wrap!" Cloud: "I don't want to be safe anymore. I want death."

Lazard: Has stopped going home. Sleeps under his desk. Has printed out the HR handbook and is eating pages from it. Is now muttering about how SOLDIER is a psychological experiment designed by Dr. Hollander and "they" are watching.

Kunsel: Rolling in gil after selling Zack metric tons of bubble wrap. Absolutely knew what he was enabling, did it anyway, no regrets. He's already printed business cards that say Chaos Supplier. He slipped one beneath Lazard's locked office door and heard Lazard scream and start sobbing.

[malformed-encephalon]

☆ "I'm so [insert disorder/condition]!"

Hey so can we not normalise this? We've seen so many people use this phrase/similar phrases, and i don't think some people realise how harmful they are, so feel free to reblog this to spread the word.

"Omg I'm so OCD, i hate it when things aren't organised!" You are not 'OCD'. OCD is a mental disorder that causes you to compulsively do a variety of things to a near-obsessive manner (hence the name). OCD is not just obsessively cleaning, it's much more severe (though i can't speak much of it since we don't have it, we know people with it and we're aware it's dreadful to live with). You are not 'OCD' just because you like to clean or keep things organised, you just like to keep things organised. That's it.

"Omg I'm so delusional, i have a crush on [insert fictional character]!" You're not delusional for having a crush on a fictional character. Having a crush on a fictional character is NORMAL. Delusions are not where you crush on fictional characters, it's a false belief or judgement where you strongly believe in something to be true when it can be proven to be impossible by basic facts. For example, we experience a frequent delusion where we believe someone or something will stare into our window at night if the curtains remain open and will see that we're asleep, and will then sneak into our room and do gods-know-what. Is it impossible? Yes. Do we still wholeheartedly believe in it when the delusion occurs despite the facts? Yes.

You're not delusional for having a fictional crush, you're just being a normal human being.

"Omg I'm so ADHD, i have such a bad attention span!" You're not ADHD for having a poor attention span. Poor attention spans can be caused by scrolling on social media, constant sensory overload, etcetera. Although people with ADHD tend to have poor attention spans, they have them for very different reasons than you, and ADHD has more to it than just struggling to focus sometimes. You are not ADHD for having a poor attention span.

"Omg i saw something out of the corner of my eye, I'm so schizo!" You're not schizophrenic for seeing something out of the corner of your eye, that's normal. Hallucinations can be caused by a variety of things, even down to sleep deprivation. Schizophrenia is characterised by delusions, hallucinations, paranoia and various other factors, and it is absolute hell to live with, as are all disorders. You're not schizophrenic for seeing something in the corner of your eye as a one-off experience, that's pretty normal.

Just as one small last thing, we're really sorry for not posting in quite a while. Our life is REALLY chaotic and shitty right now and we just haven't had the time nor mental space to post. (As i type this i have half finished art homework infront of us that's due tomorrow, and it's nearly midnight.) We'll try to post more often if we can, though i can't guarantee anything.

[necropathys]

I was wondering if you had any disability headcannons for the different versions of dream and nightmare? I think it'd be neat to hear your interpretations! Also you've dragged me into apple poly hell so if you'd like to add some headcannons for them too that'd be nice but you don't have too!

Hmm... I think Dream faces empathy burnout and chronic fatigue from constantly attempting to cater to and improve others’ emotional states, often to his own detriment. Though his positivity is his strength, it often leads him to push himself too hard, feeling intense guilt whenever he tries to rest. He believes any downtime could be spent working to help someone or even save Nightmare. This pressure takes a toll on his well-being, often leaving him exhausted, hyper-vigilant, and sometimes withdrawn when the weight becomes too much.

Shattered Dream experiences chronic pain, including migraines stemming from his eye and head wound, as well as persistent back pain from the added weight his spine wasn’t designed to support. Despite his mental age, he’s sometimes caught off guard by his own flexibility, still unaccustomed to his altered form. Shattered also has mild PTSD from the endless timelines he’s been forced to endure. At times, he needs a moment to ground himself, reminding himself he isn’t trapped in a past timeline or an endless loop. Repetitive patterns can trigger these memories, briefly leaving him disoriented.

SwapDream Sans is canonically blind and relies on aura vision to navigate his surroundings. Though he can squint to make out faint shapes, his sight remains hazy. The blinding light that emanates from his skull prevents him from sleeping, leaving him perpetually fatigued. This constant exhaustion can make his aura vision susceptible to sensory overload or migraines. To adapt, he has developed unique methods of navigation, such as tapping around or mentally mapping his environment.

He also suffers from chronic pain because his body cannot contain the overwhelming positivity within him, causing it to crack and fragment. Simultaneously, his body heals itself constantly and persistently, trapping him in an unending cycle of destruction and regeneration. While he cannot feel upset about the pain, that doesn't mean he isn't in agony. The relentless suffering is maddening.

I'm happy to drag you into apple poly hell. I hope you find these interesting.

[idyllic-affections]

if i am the wind, fleeting and transient, you are the steady and constant earth upon which i stand.

summary. kaedehara kazuha's older sibling is a geo-aligned mirror of himself.

trigger & content warnings. references to tomo's death and mentions of sensory overload.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, hurt/comfort. kazuha & older sibling!reader, slight beidou x reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. reader has a geo vision.

author's thoughts. this was an old draft that i decided to finish bc tbh? kazuha >>> lately i'm finishing and posting old drafts? i think it's because i'm realizing that they aren't even half as bad as i originally thought.

imagine being kazuha's geo bearing older sibling.

kaedehara kazuha is, for the most part, a gentle gale. fleeting, transient, evanescent.

kaedehara [name] is his polar opposite—they are the firm earth. lasting, enduring, permanent.

they were easily one of the raiden shogun's most vocal opposers during the vision hunt decree. how dare she treat her people with such lack of care? the people she should have loved? the people that she had once promised a dream to? where was all that love when she decided to cruelly rip her citizens' visions from them in spite of all the terrible effects such force had? where was all that love?

(even after the decree gets repealed, they would still be a little bitter. they're expected to forgive her, just like that? no. their forgiveness is a thing to be earned; hell, they may simply choose to never forgive her, and after all the pain she caused them and their brother? it would be justified. they do not care if she is an archon.)

"eternity is not complacency in a stasis-like state," they once told kazuha, "but rather, it is the endurance of a legacy for centuries to come. that is eternity."

they stayed back in inazuma, holding off the shogunate while kazuha ran away after tomo's death.

he cried when he had to part from them, but at their command, he ultimately did obey. as much as it hurt him to abandon them, not knowing if they'd somehow manage to escape on their own, he knew they would hate it if he refused to leave. so he did.

thankfully, the resistance took them in. they stayed with kokomi and gorou the majority of the time, helping them push back against the electro archon's tyranny.

kazuha definitely adores his older sibling!! he will literally never say a single bad thing about them to anyone. never. no slander will come from his lips.

when beidou first got to meet them, she was absolutely overjoyed; she can see where kazuha gets his attitude from! they also thanked her profusely for taking such good care of him when they could not. the two got on very well! kazuha was so happy to see some of his favorite people getting along <3

beidou loves them. genuinely.

she always encourages them to come on the alcor. there is always a place for them with her crew! sometimes they do take her up on her offer and they travel teyvat for a while. once their family affairs are settled, they'll start traveling full-time, occassionally returning to inazuma to visit their friends.

she also gets so excited when she knows they'll be on board—beidou likes exchanging stories with them and just... talking. she loves that.

someone had to teach kazuha how to play music on leaves, you know. it was definitely [name].

kazu and his sibling would compliment one another really well in battle. they'd be able to predict one another's next moves based on muscle twitches, changes in stance... it's like they can read each other's minds! they can't. they just know one another inside and out.

sometimes they'll cup their hands over his ears to protect him in situations where he cannot avoid a storm or similar thing that might hurt his ears. this gesture is greatly appreciated. kazuha does what he can to reciprocate that—if they're overwhelmed or overstimulated? his first priority is to get them somewhere calmer. they protect him in his moments of sensitivity, so it's only fair for him to do the same.

i like to think kazuha and his sibling sit and admire scenery together. maybe they point out shapes in the clouds. maybe they take note of interesting sounds they hear in the bushes. however the two spend their time admiring the world, it is always an enjoyable time.

i also think the two would play in the rain, as long as it isn't too heavy <3 dancing in the rain together, taking walks in the rain together... it'a comforting.

sometimes kazuha will lay his head on their lap as if he were some kind of cat, and he'll just fall asleep. a mid-afternoon nap on his older sibling.

on top of all of that, kazuha speaks his mind to his sibling, and he hopes they'll do the same. he wants them to always be honest about what they're thinking and how they're feeling.

he knows that, as the eldest, they may have had to carry heavy burdens all throughout his childhood, while he got the privilege of existing without a care in the world.

the heavy burdens will be no more.

he is old enough to help shoulder the weight, and help shoulder the weight he will.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[allwormdiet]

Insinuation 2.6

Onward and upward, right?

Good faith gestures aside, this is a good call with the mentality Taylor has. She doesn't want to put herself at risk any more than she has to with a couple of unknown villains, and her face would definitely be a risk.

Again, a really fucking cool description of Taylor's power and how it works for her. The sensory overload is a motherfucker but hey, she managed to crack that one eventually.

Enchanted by her eyes, ehh Taylor?

Little funny that Regent gets the most words in his description and most of it is about how Taylor doesn't really go for his type, sandwiched on both sides of the narration with what I assume are, in fact, her types.

Yeah, see, exactly. In order she looks at the Undersides like "hellooooo" "hey" "helloooooooo"

I know there are reads of Taylor as a lesbian but I'm gonna be real this immediately scans as bi, no I'm not automatically choosing that bc I'm also bi, leave me alone

Literally who bets against a Thinker, like c'mon now

Also interesting that Grue is described as sounding like an adult. Wonder if that just means that it's deep, or if he's trying to talk in a way that makes him sound older than he is

Fansites aside I'm somehow not shocked that Rachel would be against meeting new people

Also, interesting that she keeps thinking of the Undersiders as their cape names rather than the names provided, although it makes sense if she expects them to be somehow bogus

Oh hey the change in reference is actually diegetic, I totally missed that the first time through

Taylor you fuckin nerd ilu

I don't know why they decided to hide two thousand dollars in an Alexandria lunchbox, but I kind of love it. I'd offer all my friends thousands of dollars inside of lunch boxes if I had that kinda money, it'd be my thing

Here's the pitch, and it almost goes sailing right past Taylor bc after eighteen months of hell she doesn't believe that anyone would invite her to join their group.

I wonder how intentional this is. I don't know enough about what Lisa knows with her power to be like "she knows Taylor is desperately lonely and would probably bite down hard on any hook that came with a promise of camaraderie," but I'll admit the thought's occurred to me.

There we go, the man behind the curtain made explicit

And here we get a little bit more from everybody. Brian seems to really like putting his cards on the table with these conversations, which means he's not shy about explaining why they want Taylor on the team.

Taylor, meanwhile, still doesn't get why anyone would want her, as a person or as a cape. It has to be laid out for her.

Speaking of laying out why she's strong and terrifying,

Aww, she called Taylor honey

But also god fucking damn, good job on the overkill Taylor, you fucking rotted Lung's dick off with spider venom on your first night as a hero. This is why I'm so charmed by her, she's got this constant vacillation between "huge dork" and "idealistic hero" and "biting you biting you biting you biting you biting you" that feels like a nightmare to balance properly.

Brian trying so hard to both be the Mature One and also trying to get the other two to stop helping, poor kid

In the grand tableau of world events, I believe this is this is what's called "a historically significant occasion"

Current Thoughts

I can't wait for her to grow close to these people and then break all of their hearts for the sake of the greater good, all while I read along and also get my heart broken watching these kids hurt each other

I need to take a bit of a break, I've been reading kinda nonstop, but I might get some more in after dinner tonight. Really wanna see where this goes

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Two Nights, One Bed

Human Hotel Trip ~ Part 2 ~ 3k

Hazbin Hotel ₊⁺⋆ Charlastor ₊⁺⋆ Eventually Explicit

Part 1 ⚜️Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 ⚜️ Part 6 ⚜️ Finale

// Alastor gets overwhelmed with the sensory overload of modern day life, and there's a special celebration at the hotel booking up all the rooms...except one. //

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

The air shimmered as Charlie and Alastor stepped through the portal into a dingey alleyway. 

His eyes narrowed behind his round glasses, scanning overflowing dumpsters and scattered litter with a grimace. How pungent. 

The Princess, however, was practically vibrating with excitement. “We made it!” Her voice bounced off the brick walls. But when she turned to him, he had his smile back in place. 

“Indeed we have, my dear. Though I must say the welcome leaves something to be desired.” 

Charlie suddenly seemed to realize where they were standing only in that moment, like she hadn’t been paying attention to their environment at all. 

Alastor smirked—perhaps Angel Dust was right. He must cut a rather dapper figure,  despite being dressed down by the peanut gallery in the lobby. Still, he’d take any padding to his ego he could get. 

Though Charlie’s cotton candy pink bags might mire the effect, Alastor kept slung over his shoulder. 

“Well it’ll be better at the actually hotel then!” The blonde fumbled with her phone, pulling a map. “We just need to head this way and we’ll be on Bourbon Street!”

She rolled her suitcase, the luggage bouncing haphazardously as he followed in her wake. 

Alastor felt his heart sink when he saw what had come of his beloved Bourbon Street in the past century or so. 

Gone was the elegant promenade he remembered, replaced with a garish spectacle that assaulted every sense he had. 

Neon signs flashed from every window, turning color into cacophony. The melodious strains of jazz had been replaced with discordant ‘songs’ blaring from hidden speakers that trod all over each other. 

Then, there were the people. Alastor’s lips usually curled at being subjected to the unwashed masses—but this was ridiculous. Stumbling around in various states of undress, sloshing drinks from every size and shape of plastic contraption. 

“How, distasteful.” Alastor muttered, not realizing Charlie was standing close enough to hear him, and see how his perpetual smile strained. 

“C’mon Al,” she glanced from her blinking map up at him. “Surely you’ve seen worse in Hell?”

Alastor chuckled darkly, having dropped the filter from his voice when the stepped out into the overworld. “My dear, Hell is meant to be the cesspit of depravity and suffering.” 

They came to a stop at a cross walk with another galling flashing sign. 

“This is…” he gestured around them. “An abomination with the facade of progress.” His nose wrinkled. “And the smell! Distilled human desperation and…other excretions.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Alastor thought he saw Charlie reach to pat his arm—before she seemed to think better of it and pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry it’s not what you remember, but hey, change can be a good thing!” 

Alastor had to constantly remind himself that this human face gave away more than he was used to. 

“We shall see.” He sighed, before forcing a wider smile. 

“That’s the spirit!” The princess said brightly. 

She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and set off across the street with a face of sheer determination. 

At least Charlie was a constant. And Alastor found himself grateful that her human disguised looked so very much like her. 

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Alastor was consumed with a wave of relief the moment they stepped into the relative quiet of the hotel’s entry way. 

Just walking down the street was fraying his nerves. His senses overwhelmed with exhaust fumes, fast food, and something sickly sweet that made his nose twitch. Every step on the sidewalk felt alien under his polished shoes. Alastor wasn’t used to feeling sweat on his skin either. 

The relative quiet and calm of the breezeway was a welcome balm—but short lived. 

“Oh, this is so classy!” Charlie exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she took in the Art Deco decor.

Alastor, however, was thinking that if he still had his proper ears, they would be plastered flat to his head. People darted around them, the lobby was crowded and the demon’s eyes tracked every movement, his smile growing more strained by the second. 

The Princess’s eyes seemed to clear long enough to take in the humans all around them, prancing around in costume, heels clacking on the marble floors. 

“Wait a minute, did I bring us to the right year?” She blinked, pressing her hellphone to her chest, like she was worried the technology was out of place. 

“I assure you we are in the right time.” Alastor said from between his teeth. 

He nodded towards a group of human women sashaying past. Their feather boas trailed behind them like molting birds, rhinestones glittered flamboyantly on their dresses, and their makeup had been applied with the elegance of a trowel. 

“How can you be sure?” She stage-whispered as she stepped closer to his side.

“Because, my dear,  that is a caricature of the class of my time. A crude approximation of elegance. ” he kept his voice low but tinged with disdain. “No self-respecting lady would be caught dead looking like that.” 

“Isn’t that a tad bit judgmental.” Charlie gave huff, looking up at him. 

“You mean coming from me?” Alastor’s grin finally widened, a hint of his mischievous self returning. “Yes, it is. I may have been a scoundrel even in my day, but I was a scoundrel with impeccable taste.” 

Charlie didn’t look remotely mollified, so Alastor added, “And I can feel those infernal hand-held devices buzzing from every corner of this atrium.” 

“Oh, thank goodness.” She pulled her phone back from her chest, “Then we should be just in time to check into our room!” 

If Alastor didn’t hate every second he’d spent in the human world since they’d arrived, he might just find her squeal of delight charming. 

Just as he started to follow Charlie’s suitcase through the crowded lobby, a man in an ill-fitting suit stepped in front of the princess. 

“Hey doll, how you doin’?” He tipped his hat to Charlie with an exaggerated flourish. 

Alastor’s eye twitched. 

“Oh, uh, hello. Do you work here.” Charlie fumbled, taking a step back and bumping into her suitcase. Closer to Alastor. 

“That’s not a fedora, you moron.” He said as he leaned between the princess and the fool of a would-be-suitor. “It’s a trilby, and you’re wearing it incorrectly.” 

“You got a problem there, father time?” The human looked him up and down, and the disguised demon couldn’t help but smirk.

That was an insult in his time, and this pathetic mortal had no idea how much older Charlie was than him. 

“Al,” Charlie warned under her breath, making him take a steadying inhale through his nose. 

“Not at all, merely making an observation my good…fellow.” 

The human folded his arms, showing how truly ill-fitted his suit was, before he turned his leering attention back on charlie. “Say toots, how about you and me go out on a toot? I promise it’ll be the cat’s pajamas.” He asked, his voice a grating attempt at a transatlantic accent. Worse, he ended it with a wink. 

Rage surged in the demon’s chest. Fierce as any he’d felt when he was the one being insulted. 

Without further thought, he stepped between Charlie and her suitor, brown eyes turned burning red and his grin stretching inhumanly wide as he whispered. “I could eviscerate you in seconds, and it would be a pleasure.” 

The mortal fell back on his ass. “I gotta—gotta scram.” He stammered, fleeing with a squeak across the marble. 

The satisfaction the Radio Demon felt was delicious as it was fleeting. 

“Alastor!” Charlie hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back as he righted his face. “No threatening to kill humans while were on Earth! We agreed!” 

“My apologies dear. Old habits die hard.” 

“Promise me.” 

Alastor held his growl of frustration behind his teeth, but she put her hands on her hips with a determination clear on her face. She would wait him out. And wasn’t sure he could out-stubborn Charlie. 

An admirable quality, in any other situation. 

“Very well,” Alastor acquiesced, though his tone was petulant. “I promise.” 

“Thank you.” Charlie said brightly, with a satisfied nod. 

“Though, as a demon I surely do not count. ” He reasoned. “So when I ask you to kill me now…since I’m already in hell, after all. ” 

“This is going to be fun, don’t be so dramatic!” Charlie beamed, grabbing his arm to pull him toward the check-in desk. “Wait, who am I talking to?” 

“Drama incarnate, darling.” Alastor let out a genuine laugh at Charlie’s realization. 

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨❀⊹❀⊹

Charli’s smile faded the longer she spent haggling with the harried-looking clerk behind the counter. 

“I’m so sorry, but there’s been a mix-up with your reservation.” The woman explained, her eyes on neither of them and her fingers flying over her keyboard. “We’re hosting a Roaring Twenties Bash and we’re overbooked.” 

“What?” Charlie’s voice cracked with disappointment. “But I confirmed everything yesterday!”

Alastor remained silent beside her, his perpetual smile fixed in place, but his lips pressed tight together. She could tell he was focusing intently on not letting anything slip. 

Charlie took a breath to compose herself. “Are there any other rooms, please?” She asked, her tone gentle but pleading.

The clerk’s expression softened. “Well…I might be able to get you a room on the top floor—I’ll make sure it’s the same price.Would that work?”

“Oh, yes, that would be great!” The blonde bounced where she was leaned against the counter, her faith in just asking nicely renewed. 

“Wonderful,” the clerk said, tapping a few more buttons, before surprising the princess by setting two actual, physical keys on the countertop. “These will let you two into the honeymoon suite.”

A burst of static suddenly filled the air, drowning out the soft jazz playing in the lobby, making several humans glare at the speakers like they were causing the offense. 

Charlie winced, recognizing the source immediately. She glanced at Alastor, whose smile had become decidedly strained.

“Honeymoon suite?” The blonde squeaked, her cheeks flushing. “Are you, I mean. Surely there’s at least one other room—”

“It’s all we have available,” the clerk interrupted apologetically. “I hope that won’t be a problem?”

Charlie forced a smile like the bristling demon next to her. “No, no problem at all. Thank you so much!”

As they made their way to the elevator, Charlie whispered, “Are you okay, Al?”

“Perfectly fine,” Alastor replied, his voice tight. 

And Charlie wasn’t remotely convinced. 

The gilded elevator doors opened and it was blessedly empty as they stepped inside with their baggage. But before they could close again, and before Charlie could decide how she was going to reassure Alastor about their sleeping situation—a crowd of humans and their luggage cart pushed into the elevator. 

Alastor’s posture went rigid as they were forced carelessly into a tight corner, and Charlie’’s heart raced. She could feel the murderous intent radiating off him like hellfire.

“Hey, Al, it’s okay.” She murmured, careful to tuck her hands behind her so she didn’t reach to touch him on instinct. “Just focus on me, there are only three floors and we’re—” 

His gaze locked onto Charlie’s, just before the elevator gave a rickety jolt and a human and their luggage cart bumped hard into the demon’s back. 

Alastor stumbled forward, pressing her into the elevator’s corner, before he managed to brace his hand beside her her head. 

Charlie’s breath caught in her throat, meeting the man’s grimace with wide golden eyes. 

“My…apologies.” Alastor’s voice was strained, despite the fact that he couldn’t move—unless he used his powers. 

Charlie barely heard him over the hammering in her chest. He was towering over her in his distractingly, invitingly human face, so close she could see now that his brown skin had a dusting of freckles over his nose and under his glasses. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered, cursing the heat rising in her cheeks. 

After what felt like an eternity suspended between them, where she didn’t think either one of them were breathing, the elevator dinged. 

They exited quickly when they got to their floor, Charlie leading down the hall to their room at the very end. She fumbled with the key, acutely aware of Alastor’s silent, thrumming presence behind her. 

As the door swung open, Charlie’s eyes widened. 

Alastor stepped in behind her, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Well,” he mused, “this isn’t entirely unfortunate.”

The room was a blend of elegant Art Deco design and modern amenities. Small for a suite, but this was a historical hotel on Bourbon Street. Soft, ambient lighting cast a warm glow over the polished surfaces and rich fabrics. Charlie’s gaze was immediately drawn to the chandelier, its crystals casting intricate patterns on the walls.

“It’s beautiful!” Charlie gushed, running her hand over the plush loveseat in the suite, though her eyes watched Alastor as he moved around the room. Graceful as ever, but with a critical eye surveying every detail. 

“It is…tolerable.” He admitted. “Not near as…gaudy as I feared.” He strode to the French doors opposite the bed, pulling open the opulent, floor-length curtains with a flourish. 

Charlie’s smile waned just a touch as her eyes fell on the one, solitary, admittedly large bed. “Oh, um, about the sleeping arrangements…” she let the sentence dangle, wondering, if after that moment in the elevator. 

“Not to worry, my dear.” Alastor inerjected smoothly, without turning his attention from the swarming street below. “I will take the sofa.”

Charlie frowned, eyeing the deep green love seat. It was stylish of course, but decidedly small. “Are you sure Al? You’re pretty tall even as a human. Won’t you be uncomfortable?”

The wistful look across the Radio Demon’s face was quickly hidden as she approached him, his lips still pressed even as he kept his smile composed. 

“A gentleman would never dream of taking the bed from a lady, it simply wouldn’t do.” He chuckled, though she noticed how his voice slipped into that tinny sound. 

“Well, there’s another option.” Charlie started, biting her lip as she sat back on the end of the bed, sinking into the thick comforter just slightly. “It’s huge, I mean, we could…share?”

A soft static crackled through the air between them. 

“Well, I do believe I just felt my mother turning in her grave.” He laughed, high and harsh and distorted, his eyes turning back to the French doors, his hand resting on the curling door handles. But he never opened them. “It goes against every ounce of civility she impressed upon me in my youth. Besides,” beneathe the jovial tone, Charle thought she heard a hint of genuine discomfort. “I hardly need to sleep anyway. How fortunate!” 

“You know you’re in a human form right now. Things might be a little different.” Charlie frowned at his rigid back. The sun was starting to set outside, but not enough for her to catch the reflection of his face in the doors’ glass panes

Alastor let out a scoff a the very notion that he didn’t have perfect control over the mortal flesh he occupied. 

“Alright, I’m sorry for pushing.” Charlie wrapped her arms loosely around herself, coming up to his side to take in the view. 

Bourbon Street was bustling away below them, undaunted by the setting sun and even getting more crowded. Lights flashed, and muffled music blaired. 

“I’m sorry this isn’t quite what you expected.” Charlie voiced softly. 

Without thinking, she leaned towards Alastor, bumping against his pressed white sleeve, trying to offer some comfort before she could remember herself. 

The demon flinched at the contact, and the princess pulled back at once. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I forgot—” She stammered. 

But, to her surprise, Alastor relaxed. “It’s quite alright.” His hand stayed unmoving on the door handle, but she swore he leaned incrementally back to her. “No harm done.” He murmured, the Radio Demon’s voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Charlie stared at him, shocked by this little allowance of her being close. They were touching, actually close enough for her to feel the tension in the slender muscle of his bicep. 

She couldn’t recall Alastor ever allowing this. It felt like a sort of silent breakthrough, and she had to go with it. 

“Would you…” Charlie bit her lip, but she had to ask. “…want to look for any information about what happened to her, your mother, while we’re here?”

She expected a new wave of tension, perhaps even to lose her balance when he stepped away from her, repelled by her ‘bleeding heart.’

To Charlie’s surprise, Alastor’s posture relaxed. His gaze stayed fixed on the bustling street below. 

“No, thank you.” The man said softly. “I caused my mother enough grief in life, since the very day I was born. It would hardly do for me to disturb her after death.”

Charlie opened her mouth  once. “I’m sure you didn’t—”

“Oh, but I did” His smile took on a wry tone. “A beautiful blonde woman of wealth and status in turn-of-the-century Lousianna, becoming a mother to a…child like myself…it cost her everything but her spirit.”

Charlie’s face fell, seeing the ghost of his reflection now in the panes of glass. His medium skin, brown eyes, and dark hair. 

“I’m sorry…I can’t imagine how difficult that was.” Her heart aching for the young Alastor she’d never known. 

“Oh, we managed,” Alastor said airily. “I worked during the day, you see, and conducted my radio show,” he chuckled. “And other, extracurricular activities, at night.”

Charlie’s curiosity piqued. “What kind of work did you do?”

Alastor turned to her then, his smile stretching wide in a way that sent a shiver down the princess’s spine. “Why, I was an apprentice to the local butcher.” 

The way he said it, with such relish, made Charlie wonder if there was more to that simple statement than met the eye. 

But she didn’t dare ask, not when Alastor had shared more of himself in these few minutes than he had in all the time she’d known him in Hell.

⚜️ Part 3 ~ Room Service ⚜️

[newhologram]

Summer is sensory hell. Hot, sweat, moisture, bright, sharp, trapped, fans blowing, constant noise, need controlled heat (tea, heating pads, baths, etc) to self regulate/manage pain but if already hot then it’s torture. I always asked: Why is summer so much LOUDER? Overload.

[drawdrawjessi]

Hazbin Hotel OC Info:

Spunky

Basic Info:

As one of VoxTube’s biggest stars, Spunky has suppressed many of Hell’s views with her twisted and crass sense of humor. Little does she realize she would become a refugee at the Hazbin Hotel from that one faithful night when Heaven’s exterminators mysteriously appeared, plus she’ll reunite with a certain someone who’s 1930’s charisma and chivalry has enamored her years prior to the hotel.

Cause of Death: Firework explosion accident from internet video trend.

Age: Early to Mid 20s(Born in 1995, but died in 2016)

Sinner species: Spider (Peacock spider)

Personality: Charsimatic, has a bit of a temper, a bit dramatic, sarcastic, mischievous, masochistic, and a Tsundere(can be a total ass to people but does warm up to the people she's closer with and becomes a softy), becomes very bashful when Alastor is around (only after she comes to the hotel) 🥰

Gender: Female (Gender Non Conforming) She/Her/They

Sexuality: Gray-Asexual (Demi/Heteromantic)

Likes:

🕷Pranks

🕷Getting a rise out of people

🕷Vaping Weed

🕷Blue

🕷Brigadeiros (Brazilian BonBons)

🕷Shady (Her three-headed female Cerberus Rottweiler)

🕷Any technology that she can get her hands on to tinker and fidget

🕷️The feeling of familial love even if she acts like she doesn’t want it (thus making the Hazbin crew her found family, mostly Angel Dust being her found big brother)

🕷A certain gentleman from the ‘30s that she developes a crush on whom she doesn’t realize he’s the Urban Legend Radio Demon until at the hotel😏

Dislikes:

🕷️ Anything that will make her have sensory overload. For example: Large crowds (especially noisy ones), loud noises, tactile sensitivity, and strong smells.

🕷Her body (is dysmorphic about her weight and self-h*rm scratches/bite marks on her arms)

🕷Losing her status on Social Media/VoxTube

🕷Velvette’s constant insults

🕷Vox’s emotional and manipulative abuse

🕷️Her parents, aka the very bane of her existence who emotionally neglected her , put in child social services (allegedly due to her mother), and never came to get her throughout her foster care years.

Abilities:

- Retractable spider legs (From the back as an easy way to climb)

- Weapon Proficiency (Roman Candles/big Harley Quinn-esk mallet)

- Computer/tech building

- Computer/internet hacking

- Athleticism (Parkour)

- Shadow Manipulation (As camouflage)

- Multilingualism (Little bit Russian, mostly Brazilian Portuguese)

- Weather sensitivity

Ref sheet by @dramokin

[thisbrilliantsky]

reminds me of a conversation my mom, my sisters, and i had about whether we woulda/coulda/shoulda been in public school; my mom said she thought in hindsight my older sister mightve done better (not that she did badly but yk) in public school bc when she took co-op classes she excelled bc of her competitiveness (she and another student always had the 1st or 2nd best grades and she wanted to Beat Him); victoria probably would've been fine/the same as she just kinda did her own thing anyways, but she mightve had an especially good time with a school sports team; me however. we all agreed i wouldve been miserable AND gotten bad grades in a public school. it literally sounds like what would've been Special Hell for me as a child. seeing as i was a) painfully shy, b) excruciatingly anxious, c) had the most difficult time staying on task, and d) was chronically late/took forever to complete assignments. not to mention the constant sensory overload that would turn my brain to mush anyway. :| homeschooling is not for everyone but it certainly was the right choice for me, especially considering my mom was a v good teacher, and could strike the balance between letting me go at my own pace and keeping me on track. sometimes if it took me all day to finish something, it would just take all day. she didn't punish me for it, but i also couldn't just run off and do whatever i wanted

[starstabberzirc]

Guess I could talk about how this game came about--playing and/or watching longplays of weird Japanese shmups like Parodius, Boogie Nights, Harmful Park, Cho Aniki, Space Invaders 95, and the less-weird-but-this-boss-is-cool Musha Aleste, I got frustrated with how the soundtrack was always drowned out by constant PEW PEW PEW PEW. That's right, the aesthetic might be an amalgam of 90s gaming, but the inspiration behind the gameplay is my issues with noise overload

Then when I heard about Twinbee's two-fisted spaceship player design I thought that might be fun. But NO, it turned out to just shoot lasers with its fists, which seemed like such a waste. Why not give the little guy a nice quiet melee weapon, I thought.

And as for enemy design, shmups tend to have some pretty cool aesthetics, but I am SO SO SO bad at bullet-hell shooters; I'm gonna have puzzles and strategies and patterns, but AT NO POINT will it require pixel-perfect maneuvering. Like, I'm sorry, maybe it's just more of those sensory processing issues I mentioned a moment ago but this doesn't look fun at all to me (which is why there's a Touhou parody boss)

[eden-regained]

Ok so in late 2015 I was on this trip where I wrote the beginnings of a kind-of-but-also-not-really embarassing songfic centering around Murdoc living in this weird ass city in a distant future run by none other than a dictatorship mandated by “Feel Good Incorporated” where he’s the superhero-esque fist of justice, enforcing the laws of the “Agenda of Hedone”.

Essentially humans are forced to live in this strange state of constant sensory overload. It’s food, wine and love all day, everyday, but with a teeny-tiny twist.

Long-ass story very short, a group of people in a post-apocalyptic world a long time ago discovered they possess incredibly strong psychic abilities, however, they came at a heavy price: the more the Extrasensory Perceptionist uses their powers, the more they lose their ability to feel positive emotions. Soon, this group had finished constructing their own city far away from the pitiful remnants of civilization, it was grand and unlike anything previously built in all of human history, though in the process the group collectively exhausted all of their joy, which led them to become very powerful but also very dead inside. So, rather fittingly but also in a comically macabre way, the newborn setup for the metropolis of tomorrow was named “Melancholy Town” (where they never smiled).

Luckily for the new kings but at the unlucky expense of the people who chose to follow their new leaders, it was discovered that an ESPer could recharge back to full human emotion as long as they kept a large mass of people in their vicinity happy. Morbidly happy. If you guessed the twist by now, yeah, it’s hell on earth; through nonstop use of their powers to freeze the populus within a bubble of boundless hedonism, the immortal kings, now under the guise of Feel Good Inc have created an illusionary Perpetuum Mobile, endelssly supplying the city with anything it desires.

As one could imagine, though, this lifestyle of consuming basically nothing but magic-enhanced products aswell as permanent insomnia and total isolation from the outside world have over many generations led to sickly, short lived humans who aren’t even aware of death’s existence sooner or later clogging up the cold, dark catacombs hidden beneath the city like dead tapeworms in a fox’s bowels. Those unlucky enough to miraculously live past 40 will most likely have experienced the grim fate of complete desensitization by then, leaving them to waste away like living corpses.

In order to keep “bliss” and “””Peace””” alive, the descendants of the esper-kings are tasked with collecting the dead and disposing, silencing any possible upheaval of them on top of generally showing presence as (ironically) the ideal citizens. This is where Murdoc comes in.

Murdoc is the clone of the oldest, most powerful esper king who remains a mystery even among the inner council of Feel Good Inc as post self isolation somewhere within the city no one has seen him, not even his former comerades. Despite this fact though, even now at the age of sixteen Murdoc has barely shown any skill in his abilites, the coolest stunt he’s ever managed to pull was making a pebble levitate. Of course this pathetic ineptidude is skillfully swept under the rug, instead, to the people of Melancholy Town Murdoc is propagated as this wickedly talented God in boy’s skin. And as a small child Murdoc believed it without question.

With each passing day, though, Murdoc becomes more and more aware of what kind of fucked up bullshit he’s growing up with and one fateful night he decides to smuggle himself inside in a “garbage” truck to find out where it takes him.

Since the catacombs are pretty much filled to the brim with bones by now, the bodies are shipped to the coast to be dumped in the sea. Lucky for Murdoc, an illegally operating group of whalers conveniently comes by to rescue him.

Turns out there is an outside world, and not only that; said outside world, while not as outwardly glamourous looking as Melancholy Town has healthy, genuinely happy living everywhere. At first Murdoc is completely disturbed and wants to go home, sure, everything he’s known so far was a fat fucking lie. But at “home” he was deified! Worshipped despite his lack of talent! Luckily there’s a glimmer of hope in this new, alien world for him; his lack of talent in psychic abilites will spare him the horrors of impending ahedonia and soon, Murdoc, despite his initial selfish hesitation makes the choice to join a group of escapees, survivors and knowing outsiders to topple the regime that plagues his birthplace. If only his “ancestor” didn’t listen to his thoughts through a one-sided telepathic link...

[finitevoid]

Silver:

-from the future

-is loosely angelic in appearance and can fly. Comes from hell

-Fights with the christian powers of telekinesis. Cute! Oh wait considering next point theyre actually his muslim powers

-silver has some islamic references tied to him

-learns throughout 06 that he should save his world in the state its in and seals iblis in the future rather than continue screwing with the past. Present pilled. External change

-extroverted :). Extremely honest and open. comically incapable of deceit. Cries in 06

Shadow:

- from the past

-demonic in appearance. Comes from beyond earth in the cosmos

-Close combat

-shadow seems to have a lot of biblical allegories around him that go both ways

-He fucking hates his past post ShTH. He let that shit go hes a new hedgehog. Present pilled. Internal change

-introvert >:(. Unwilling/seemingly unable to express himself. He would never cry… (he did in shadow gens)

shadow in 06 was a healed veteran who had gone through sa2, heroes, and ShTH battling himself. this was silvers first adventure. hes volatile and clearly has a bit to unpack but not yet its iblis time. shadows also older (physically. We all know hes 50+ years old technically) than silver. they seemed to be setting something up between the two of them. I know shadow kicks silver in that one cutscene (autism convention) but i got the vibe hes rather impressed with silver following the chaos control and sees something of himself within silver. And in somewhat unshadow (shadow??? Initiating social interaction,?) like fashion actually INVITES silver to come with him to the past. he doesnt verbalize these things because hes shadow but i know he secretly really likes silver *pets shadow* (not in a ship way.). Silver on the other hand isnt thinking about shadow like that hes going through constant sensory and information overload and tends to get autistically single tracked about his goals. I HAVE TO KILL IFRIT NOW. GET OUT OF MY WAY *mugs tails* <- will flip his shit if literally anything gets in his way. A lot of responsibility for an autistic hedgehog! Shadow meanwhile is like not fully present ever so yeah hes thinking a bit

Too bad 06 bombed so bad they didnt want to touch silver let alone have silver interact with the segas pet shadow. I mean modern canon fucks with everything of course. Silver cant catch a break post 06 and is still going back to the past while shadows still crying about maria so whatever. People say shadow shouldve stayed dead after sa2 and irs like sure but i like what they did with him after. Silvers in that exact situation except not given a center role in like 3 mainline games after to develop so we get dubiously canon uwuver instead

Anways… how can we make this sora and venitas?

[caeca-iustitia]

Vincent has autism but their awareness of such a fact is minimal. Based on other diagnoses they’ve received, they mostly swept the idea of having autism under the rug; despite their mother having been diagnosed with it as a teenager and their sisters showing traits their entire lives.

For them, it manifests in a few ways. 

They cannot stand having anything touch the palm of their hand and constantly wear gloves to prevent unwanted contact with their skin. On top of this, Vincent has issues with certain textures and gets easily overwhelmed by fabric textures that they don’t like touching their skin but it is especially bad on their hands.

Loud environments are Hell on Vincent and they will go mostly, if not completely, nonverbal when confronted with an environment that they can’t freely escape from. They try their best to remain calm but the constant sensory overload is too much so they usually end up partially catatonic and wishing they were anywhere else but there. 

They usually pass this off as crippling social anxiety rather than looking any further into what could be causing such an extreme reaction.

For someone who acts so emotionless, Vincent is very empathetic. They are more than capable of understanding why someone may feel the way they do and, more often than not, will do anything they can to make that person feel better. They may not completely comprehend the exact root cause of such emotional upheaval but they will do what they can to listen and react appropriately.

Eye contact is a big no-no for Vincent as they find the simple act of looking into someone’s eyes overwhelming and stressful. While some may see it as rude, they simply cannot handle eye contact so will instead look to the persons brow or the apple of their cheek. If they are truly struggling then they will focus on their chin or look past the person entirely. 

They don’t intend to be rude but the constant need for eye-contact is nauseating.

Vincent struggles with their self-image and seeing themself in a photo, even if they can’t recognise their own face, is sickening. They think that they ruin any photo they stand for and will do anything to avoid being a part of the picture; up to and including taking it themself. This is something that often gets written off as them being anti-social.

The worst offender has always been burnout. Emotional, phyiscal and mental exhaustion to a degree that is borderline debilitating. They feel overwhelmingly hollow and like their body has reached its limit. They struggle to find the motivation to care for themself and spend hours just existing in a state between awareness and catatonia. Finding the energy, the motivation, to get up and continue their day is next to impossible and they get no enjoyment out of anything. 

For them stimming aligns closely, if not completely, with quirks that they developed from having schizophrenia. Things like tapping their foot against the back of their opposite heel, bouncing their leg when they’re sat down, tucking their nose into the collar of their cape, chewing on lollipop sticks/toothpicks/gum and fiddling with their guns. Almost all of these things, barring the chewing, were things they noticed they did when they were diagnosed with schizophrenia.

Vincent is unaware of all of this and hasn’t really felt the need to investigate their behaviour or the cause behind it. They’re satisfied with not knowing why they act the way they do and generally write it off as something to do with one of their other issues.

[arwenstardust]

At some point I will realize the reason I’m absolutely losing my mind every time I’m on my period is that it causes me to be in constant sensory overload and that’s with me using the least sensory hell option of dealing with it I have at my disposal. 🙃