#hazbin hotel ficlet

[labyrinthofsphinx]

Statistical Outliers

Part 2 of drabble. In the middle of a few things so I figured here's a bit more in the meantime.

“Vox, I want it.”

Truth be told, he hadn’t been expecting to hear from Velvette for a minute. He had only just proposed that she could promote his newest and latest set of gaming headphones, which now come equipped with specialized noise cancelation. Specialized for canceling out radio static, of course. Anyways, Velvette had turned him down flat, saying the design wasn’t ‘on brand’ for her. What the hell was her brand if not part of his?

So, her storming in with demands was not on his bingo card.

“Fascinating.” He sipped a bit more of his coffee. Too much sugar, not enough cream. Memo to himself, throw the coffee boy off the tower later if this conversation gets him too worked up.

“Vox!” Velvette slammed her hand down on his console, a move very few ever dared. Too many things could go wrong if damaged, and he couldn’t afford a Val sized tantrum in this room of all places. Coming from Vel, this was even weirder. Weird didn’t replace anger though, so he forced himself to police in his emotions.

“Yes?” He said, pulling his grin across his screen as far as he could. It made him look more friendly, he reminded himself, and not like his shark friends currently swimming about agitated.

He didn’t get to see her reaction. Instead, she brought her phone straight to his face. It was a picture from an article, written about the newly reconstructed hotel and whatnot. The smiley freak was there somehow. Vox still didn’t know how he managed to survive being sliced down the middle. The picture distorted something awful around his face and figure.

He glanced up at Velvette, tugging her phone down just a tad, enough to look her in the eyes.

“What am I looking at?” He asked, slightly confused and more irritated the longer his conversation went on. He kept smiling.

She took her phone back, zoomed in on a particular part of the picture, then put it back in his face.

“This thing, I want it.” She pointed a long, painted nail at it, as if he couldn’t make it out from the extreme zoom she pulled.

He still didn’t get it.

She tapped at a picture of one of the new residents of Alastor’s failing project, someone of no consequence that he’s never heard of. He prides himself on his knowledgebase. The internet was literally accessible from his head. He knew just about everything about anybody: their likes, their dislikes, the numbers of all their friends, accounts they had, jobs they applied for, who owned whose soul, the works. This one? A literal nobody. A ghost, if you will. What little he had on him was from surveillance tapes, showing him driving around a fancy car. Aside from that, he apparently moved into the hotel. That’s it. That’s literally all there was to him.

He just raised a brow to her, giving her that look that tells her she has to explain more than she would in a text message. She rolled her eyes, but she went on.

“It’s adorable, and I want it.”

Again, another moment he was reminded of Velvette’s age.

An adult, but not quite an adult.

Adorable? Vox didn’t really think he was an authority on adorable. He was a good judge on other things, things he prided himself on. Sexy, sure. Suggestive, why not? Beautiful, naturally.

But adorable?

The kid (he’s about ninety percent sure he was a kid) was some kind of fox. His ears were far too big for his small body, which already made him look like a mouse. His eyes were a little too large for his head. And he had a bushy tail. Well, he looked kinda fluffy everywhere. But this is Hell. Every other person was fuzzy in some way. Angel dust was a spider for crying out loud, and he was covered in fluff.

He didn’t get it. Though, that didn’t mean he couldn’t take advantage of it.

“Well, certainly, Velvette! Whatever you want…though, from what I understand, he’s holed up in-”

“I don’t care. I’ll do the stupid commercial for those headset things, but I want this first.”

Oh, well, right to the point then. Another thing he liked about Velvette, she was direct about everything. And with that said, she stormed right out like the hurricane she came in as. Honest, he has no idea what she planned to do with the kid once she had him. Turn him into a fur coat, maybe? He didn’t really care, not so long as half of Hell can’t even hear the radio bastard anymore.

A quick tap into the mainframe had his eyes peering out the camera of one of his drones. Fixated on the hotel, he picked up on a bit of conversation. It was the usual bullshit, the princess spouting off whatever silly plan she had in mind to push the rest of them towards being ‘better’. Since when was writing heartfelt letters to someone next you considered in heavenly entry?

The kid wasn’t in view, which wasn’t surprising. Despite being probably the youngest of this group, he certainly worked the longest hours. Kudos to him, Vox supposes. He knows the hours of shooting Val puts Angel through, and the kid still seems to hold the record for longest day. And if there is anything he can get behind, it’s a strong work ethic. Or maybe he sold his soul to an insomniac. Either is possible.

Just as he considered jumping through other cameras, to see if he was taking his usual route, the car rolled up to the hotel. The kid all but leapt outside, skipping his way up to everyone.

“Charlie! Charlie!” He had a high voice, like he’d not yet gone through puberty. It sounded like a language version of the triangle, constant tinging.

He was vibrating with delight, jumping in place as the rest of the hotel looked on, confused.

“I’m officially on vacation!” He chirped, explaining before anyone even posed the question. “My boss went down to Gluttony for a week, so I’ve got the time off!”

At that, the princess was beaming. She started talking so fast and so pitched that he hardly caught anything past the idea of doing a full ‘activities’ week. He can only assume it was all more half measures towards getting these dogs some manners.

“Oh! I know just how to start!” Of all people, Lucifer chimed in. If his drone flew a little more skewed, it wasn’t because of nerves. “I’ll make pancakes!”

Oh, right. The king of hell was just as much of a pansy as his daughter. He keeps forgetting that. Mostly on account of how obscenely powerful he still was.

“Hm, all that bragging about cuisine, and all you ever seem to make are dull, tasteless breaded monstrosities.” His voice made the camera twitch unnaturally. The audio sounded distorted, like the microphone had been fried. A random pop almost made him jump from his chair.

Alastor’s smile was as annoying as ever, even when he can hardly see it through the distortion. Vox could feel his fingers digging into his panel without even thinking of it. In fact, he was only aware he was doing it because the sparks flying off his fingers got some feedback from its circuits.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one to find the radio creep unbearable, because Lucifer was none too happy about that little comment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Who asked the cannibal? I keep forgetting you’re only into greasy finger food.”

Vox snorted into his hand as Alastor’s hair bristled in annoyance. Would he prefer it if he was the one who caused him to get his hackles up? Sure, but he was never going to pass up an opportunity to laugh at his expense. Knowing Alastor, the unintentional dig at his mother’s jambalaya hurt way more than the insult to his weird cannibal diet.

His smile became more strained, like he wanted to gnaw Lucifer’s throat out, but before he got tempted, the kid pepped up.

“H-how about we bake something instead?” Ears folded flat against his head, the kid turned towards Angel. “Didn’t you say you wanted to make brownies?”

Angel, as Vox knew, wasn’t thinking about the same kind of brownies that the kid was. And Angel seemed to realize this because he immediately jumped into damage control mode, all four arms waving about like he didn’t know what to do with any of them.

“I, um, yeah! Sure! Brownies! That sounds great! Just…normal brownies.”

The angel girl shot him a glare, one that Charlie politely tried to redirect.

Oh, this could’ve been its own reality show. He can see what entertainment Alastor gets out of it, even if the investment isn’t worth the payoff.

“We’re going to need to go to the store then.” Alastor’s cat pointed out. Oddly, he wasn’t holding a bottle in his hand. Usually, he was one foot in the gutter by this time of the day. “The kitchen’s been wiped out.”

“Wiped out? How?” Charlie’s girlfriend hissed.

“Bugs.” Alastor’s other pet, the creepy girl, lifted a metal stick. On it, clusters of bugs dangled, legs still twitching. Val had mentioned meeting her in a club one time. That was the same day he noticed there was a bald spot around Val’s collar.

…yeah, no need to explain why the smiley freak keeps that one around.

“That’s okay! I’ll just run down to the store and grab some groceries.” The kid added quickly, before anyone could comment on the pyre of insects currently dying a slow and painful death.

To his own interest, no one offered to go with him. No one offered to go instead of him. A quick rewind of surveillance told him that the kid was usually the one grabbing groceries on his way back from work. It was routine. The only added thing was Charlie handing over a, frankly, stupid amount of money for food. The kid quickly corrected it to an approximate amount and handed the rest back. A smart move, he supposed. People don’t rob people without money.

Of course, that assumes people would want the money, and obviously Vox wasn’t interested in pocket change.

With a flick of his hand, he brought up his secretary. She blinked as she looked up from her pad to her computer screen, quickly reworking the fins making up her hair. She was always dressed a little too much like she worked for Val, but she was good at her job and he’s yet to find a replacement. So, for now, she stays.

“Yes, Mr. Vox?” She asked, popping her lips up into a heart shaped smile.

He snapped up an image of the kid on her screen, taken from his recent watch in.

“I need you to pick this thing up for me. He’s heading to the grocers on the corner of Scarlet Drive and Butcher’s row.” He said, noting as the kid was looking for a place to park. The cameras in that part of town were much more numerous. Without Mr. Smiley making everything go haywire, he had a much better view of Velvette’s new toy.

“…any special instructions, sir?” She asked, accentuating her neck.

“Yeah, make sure he arrives without a scratch on him. I don’t deal with damaged goods.”

With that, he hung up. Back to business as usual.

It played on in the background of talk shows and newscasts. He was never truly unplugged from everything. That didn’t mean he saw everything all the time, mind you. He did, you know, have a life. But if he wanted his attention elsewhere, he could always jump to something else in the digital network. Case and point, while he was in the middle of discussing the upcoming acid rainstorm, he caught eye of some of his men grabbing the kid.

It wasn’t much of a struggle. He was probably lighter than the groceries he was carrying. He hardly had time to utter a cry before he was pushed inside the car and driven off towards Vee tower. The car was just as automated as the rest of his devices. He’s never tried it, but he’d pretty sure he could drive it if he wanted to. Not that he did because, really, who had time for that? He did notice though that once the kid was shoved in the center seat, and held by the arms on either side, he didn’t protest. His ears were pinned to his head, so it was obvious he was scared shitless. His tail was curled tight between his legs, but his eyes were trained forward, like he was preparing to charge headfirst into a train.

This probably wasn’t the first time he’s been kidnapped. Not really too surprising, considering just how weak he was. It was just interesting to see him immediately know that fighting was never going to get him out of this situation. So, he wasn’t entirely dumb, at least.

Huh, this might just be interesting after all.

He finished with his broadcast, cutting to commercial before one of the pre-recorded segments went to play. He had just enough time to grab a coffee before meeting his men over in his lobby, the one meant for employees only.

He scrolled through his feed, pushing numbers, trying to see when and how would be the best way to appeal to the masses for those new headsets of his. Hey, just because he could hypnotize them all, doesn’t mean he has to. Many of them would just sucker themselves into buying it, especially if all the rest of their friends had a pair. That was a different kind of hypnotism altogether.

Two flunkies in dark suits dipped their heads when he walked in, brutes he doesn’t remember the names of nor would bother to. He looked down from his phone only for a moment, enough to register the shock on the kid’s face as he looked up. He expected him to be afraid. No doubt Alastor would’ve been ruining his (not so) good name at the hotel. Or, if not him, then he imagines Angel didn’t have much good to say either. Not that he paid much attention to Val’s employees. Honestly, the only reason he had to deal with or hear about Angel was because Valentino literally wouldn’t stop making him a problem. And, as said, Valentino’s problems always end up Vox’s problems.

Here's the thing, the kid looked afraid still, but there was something else there as well. Something he didn’t quite make out.

He flicked his finger, and his guards dropped him down. Surprisingly, the kid didn’t try to make a run for it. He glanced around, but probably quickly decided that, yeah, there’s was no easy path out. He looked back up at Vox, waiting for him to say something he supposed. Why should he though? He doesn’t owe him anything. This was all just a means to an end, and he didn’t have time for anything else.

“I take it you’re the smart type.” His attention went back to his phone, but he could tell the kid was waiting with bated breath. “Then you’ll know to shut up and do as your told and you probably won’t end up dead.”

‘Probably’, heh, he was lying to himself now.

The kid’s eyes watered, suddenly finding something interesting about the floor. Hm, didn’t want to cry, huh? Well, Vox would bet Velvette breaks him in less than a day. Insecurity reads to her like blood does to his sharks. There will be carnage later.

Vox walked towards the elevator. The kid didn’t automatically follow behind his coat tails. That was strike one. A jolt sparked as annoyance hit him. He snapped his fingers together and pointed down by his side. If he was going to give Velvette a gift, it was just the manners in him demanding he gave it in person, one of the few carryovers from his living days.

“Here. Now.” He demanded, teeth still clenched.

That seemed like more than enough encouragement. Tail tucked between his legs, he slowly joined Vox in the elevator. With a twinge of electricity, the lift began to rise. The kid, comically, almost fell off the edge. The lack of walls around the perimeter of the circle really got to him. So much so he actually moved closer to Vox, rather than be anywhere near the edge. Amusing. It would’ve been funnier if it wasn’t so pathetic.

There was the usual ting when they arrived at Velvette’s floor, and the doors opened to the usual chaos. Models and designers running around everywhere, most of them with sweat beading down their faces as their boss literally ripped a dress in two in front of one unfortunate stylist.

“Is there not a single one of you who doesn’t have shit for brains?” She roared, tossing the fabric mess into a garbage bin as the designer nearly passed out right there. “Who’s the moron who thought that pink polka dots were ‘in’ this season?”

“Oh, Velvette!” Vox stepped out, and people got out of his way. One overlord was already one too many for these people. Though, he noted, there did seem to be an unusual amount of relief when they saw him. No doubt they thought he’d rein her in like he usually did whenever she or Val went too far off the rails. Jokes on them, he was only here to drop off his end of the bargain and go over the commercial.

She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. To say she was in a ‘bad mood’ would’ve been polite considering the purse of her lips and the blood she was currently wiping off her hands. Her attention was half on him, and half stuck to her phone.

“What the fuck you want?”

The kid had snuck up behind him, too small and insignificant to be seen from outside his shadow. The staff that did see him twisted a bit in uncertainty. Vox curled a hand behind him and shoved him forward.

“Why, just bringing you a little present! Thought it would brighten up your day!”

Everyone in the room waited for a reaction. Many of those running about slowed or outright stopped what they were doing to watch what would happen next. Velvette herself blinked as she put down her phone.

Even more surprising, the kid gulped, took a breath, and brought a hand up in a nervous wave.

“Um, h-h-hello.”

Without the warping that just naturally came from any recording, the kid sounded younger somehow. His voice was clearer, but still meek. His ears flicked forward, twitching with tension, but trying to look friendly.

Well, he could read a room. He’ll give him that.

Velvette made an unholy sound. The shriek bounced in his servos like someone was banging a pot over his head. The vibration caused his face to glitch out and, by consequence, cause the whole fucking tower to blink like broken Christmas lights. He’s pretty sure the glass cracked in places, and the employees were bleeding out their ears. The kid had grabbed his own in a vice grip.

She finally stopped, moving with incredible speed and scooping the kid up like he weighs less than nothing. She started swinging him around like he was a new puppy, bad mood entirely forgotten.

“Oh my god, he’s adorable! Even better than the video!” She ruffled through his fur, tugging lightly on his big ears, before finally putting him back on the ground…only to tug Vox down and give him a quick hug around the neck. “Vee, you’re the very best!”

He forgot for a second that he didn’t just do it for her, because it had honestly been a while since she’s been so openly and nicely affectionate with him. It took him a second to reboot.

“Yes, I know.” He said, jumping right back into it. “Hold the applause for now though. So, have you had a chance to look over the design I sent you?”

She snapped up her phone and flicked something into the data cloud.

“I fixed it up, made it more appealing. Take a look.”

He downloaded it. She altered a few cosmetic things about it. The standard design didn’t change much but…

“Um, why did you make a version with ears on it?” Half of the denizens of hell had ears, many of them bigger than these ones. True, the techno aspect to them he can get behind. Speakers and glowing lights were added to the frame, making it cooler in dimmer light. But why ears?

“Because they’re cute. And cute is ‘in’ right now.” She stated, manner of fact, before turning her attention back to her new toy.

Well, okay. He could work with this. It wasn’t entirely off brand for his more technical projects. As long as it was kept modern looking, he could look past the ‘cute’ part of it. While he’s been mulling that over, Velvette has scooped up her new prize like she just won him from a carnival game. A million and one selfies later, she turned her attention to the kid’s wardrobe.

“While the 90s are making a comeback right now, we’ve got to do something about…all of this.” She picked at his shirt like it might give her lice. “Also, a collar.”

“B-but I’m not-” He started.

Vox cleared his throat, giving the kid a warning grin.

“What did I say about the talking thing again?” He teased.

The kids sighed but, promptly, shut up.

“I’ll have the testing design ready for you tonight.” He mentioned to Velvette. He would have it sooner, but now he had to install extra lights and speakers on fake ears.

“Good, I’ll start teasing about the new product. We’ll run the commercial after I’ve ‘leaked’ it.”

And as they both knew, the commercial was a Vox problem, not a Velvette problem.

“I’ll leave you to it then!”

Good. All’s well that ends well, he guesses.

As he went to the lift, he caught one last look from the kid. There was that expression again, the one he didn’t quite understand. It almost lingered on him, even as the door closed. In the last second before Vox was left to his own devices once more, he saw the kid opening his mouth like he was about to call out after him. He didn’t though. And the doors to the lift snapped shut.

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 6/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Some other happenings while Lucifer was in Heaven.

Reminder: Read story 1 first before starting this series! It adds some context and of course, I think it's a pretty neat prequel

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

The demons in the hotel have dispersed just after their King left for Heaven. Most kept themselves busy despite being worried because, really, what can they do except wait?

Charlie said goodbye to the Sins whom were going back to their respective rings. As much as she wants to have them at the hotel with her until her dad comes back, she understands that they can't leave the other rings unattended for too long.

Beelzebub: I really wish I could stay, baby girl. But I'm just call away, okay?

Satan: All of us are, Charlie. If you want, I can have Damien visit and wait with you?

Charlie: That's okay, uncle. I wouldn't want to bother him for something like sitting around and waiting.

Satan: If you're sure, your majesty.

Charlie: I- I'm not- I'm just acting Queen.

Asmodeus: Charlie, you are no less of a Queen as your mother was just because it's not permanent yet. As long as Lucifer is not here, you are our Queen.

Mammon: Heck yeah! By the way, do you want queen shit merch? I bet we would make a ton of money with your face in every tshirt or coffee mug!

Charlie: Haha. No thank you...

Mammon: Your loss! If ya ever change your mind though-

An elbow to his gut cuts Mammon off his never-ending, and in Charlie's honest opinion, poor sales pitch.

Mammon: Fuckin bitch! No woman is as brute as you-

Another hit sends Mammon writhing on the ground that made Charlie channel all her self-control not to laugh in his face.

Belphegor: Do shut up, Mammon. You are embarrassing yourself. If you have any questions regarding your duties, you can ask any of us. Except Mammon.

The Princess (acting Queen!) of Hell is so touched by the support of her aunts and uncles that she almost teared up. If not for Vaggie's eyes that never left her, she would've ugly cried already. She tries not to let her Uncle Mammon's pained shouts of 'f-f-uck you, Bel!' ruin the moment for her.

Leviathan: Call us when your father comes back.

Charlie: Of course! Thank you all again for being here.

Leviathan bends down to give Charlie a bow.

Leviathan: Of course, our Queen.

Giving one last goodbye hugs to each of them, Charlie doesn't notice Alastor with his ears pulled back. Husk does though.

Husk: Boss?

Alastor: Yes, dear Husker?

Husk: Ya alright?

When Alastor doesn't answer, he follows the deer demon's stare in the direction of Charlie and the Sins. Husk knows that meddling with anything Alastor will just get him scolded like all the other times he tried to express concern.

He'll never admit it but he did come to care for the psycho even just a little bit. Is it Stockholm Syndrome? He's not sure.

Regardless, if something was bothering Alastor then he and Nifty would get dragged into it eventually. So tries to reach out, even if his boss don't like it. Egotistical prick.

..

Husk felt a chill ran down his spine when he catches the Sin of Envy looking directly at their direction. More specifically, at Alastor.

'What the hell?'

He hears Alastor click his tongue then disappear to fuck knows where. And when he turned back to where the Sins were, it looks like they had left.

And so did the Sin of Envy.

Angel: Huskie! I need that drink ya always make me!

Husk only hopes that whatever that was doesn't bite any of them in the ass.

Husk: Yeah yeah, I got it.

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

Alastor went straight into his room but someone was already there, sitting in his little dining set up by the bayou.

The static he lets out would've scared any other demon but this one just looked at him in exasperation like he isn't the one trespassing in someone's private bedroom- in his territory!

Alastor: Ľ̷̹͚͚͔͓̥̭͂̃̓̉ë̸̻̳́a̶̱̦̻̱̼̔̚v̶̥̗̜̎̽̈́̂̋͆̊̔e̷̤̝̰̖̞̳̗͒̌͊͜͝!̶͍̯̠̃̔͆̈́

He summons black tentacles to attack the intruder but they stop just a hairs breath away. Alastor wills them, commands them, to strike but they don't move.

Leviathan: Using my own gift to attack me? Come on, Alastor, you know better than that.

Alastor bites his lips so hard, he bleeds.

Alastor: Y̷̥͐͑͝ó̸̗̇̾ṷ̴̧̟̺̀̅̕ ̴̧̡͕̈͜ṁ̷̱̰̞̰a̴̟̟͔͋̊͌ͅy̶̠͝ ̷̘̤̬̼͛̿̊̉ǒ̵̩̉̅w̴̩̍͑̕n̴̨̪͇̿̕ͅ ̸̧̤͈̀͋͠m̵̨͑ͅy̴̦̻͔̐͒͐̉ ̵͍̱̩̐s̷̯͂̄͂ò̴̖̺̩u̵͍̣̱̯̾̂͛l̶̻̭͖̾̾̊ ̸͖̱̍͝b̷͚̳͗̔̄͝u̸͖͊̒t̶̩͑̈́̊ ̸͖͋t̴̙̔͂h̷̬̻̫̮̓͗a̵̘̋͂̏͘ẗ̴͉̍̇͜ͅ ̸͍͒͑d̸͚̥̬̣̋̉̊o̸̭̖̯̳͌e̶̻̗͍͉̓̔͑s̴̨̥̙̈́͂ ̷̧̓n̴̢̘͓͉͂̆o̵̰͕͚͌ͅt̵͍̘̄́ ̵̧̪͔̋̓͂͐g̷̹̻̹͊̀í̵̧̨̝v̵̛̛͓̞̮̿̊ͅé̸͇͇̑͒ ̴̭̱̝̞̿ẏ̴̠͚̐̐o̵̧̓͑ų̴̻̾͆ ̶̻͍̲̃t̸͕̗͖͛̌͠h̷̩͈̗̀ẻ̷͇̈́͘͘ ̵̮̝͍͆͑̚ŗ̷͇̻̖̓̂i̵̱̦̻̩͋͛g̷̻͛̃͂͘h̶̛̼̤͙̘̒̏̕t̶͓͔̮̔̊͛͛ ̶͙̑t̵̼̣͚̐̒̅ͅǒ̴̾͘͠ͅ ̴̞̏̓̊͝d̸̡̈́͜ó̸̢͎͓̉ ̴̗̥̮̳̈́̆ằ̵̲̖̜͑̇ṩ̸̡̇͠ ̴̦̮͔͊̑̋͑y̶̤̳̹̔o̶̺̍͋u̸͎̎̅͒͘ ̶͓̫͖̪̎̓͐͝p̵̥͑̓̌͑͜l̵͓͔̻̇̑e̴̺̐͋̂̃a̴̫͇̭̥̔̔š̶̞̝ḛ̸̃̊͂͘.̷̥̰̮̆͑́͝

Leviathan merely rolls his eyes and barely even flinches from the ear-piercing sounds the radio demon is emmitting.

Leviathan: Relax. I'm not here to make you do anything. But I won't stand this disrepect.

Alastor: H̸̭͈͕̾̌ơ̸̮̖̫͉̐͒̏ẇ̷̛̱̙͌̕ͅ ̶̖͕̲͖̏͌̓d̵̛͉̭̈́́̊a̵̬͇͎̽̅̐r̷̪̣͗̐͑e̶͚̯̠͇̋̎̑͝ ̷͍̫͎̒y̵̹͆̀̅̐ô̷̡̭̣̥̎̍ú̷͔̂́ ̵̡̺̯̓t̷̞̾ą̷̮̻̔̈l̴͇̲̅͌̎͛ḱ̵̡̭̜ ̷͉͂͝ơ̶̞͓͕͗͋͜f̸̮̮̻̰̂͝ ̸̡̭̏͐͆͠d̷͇̟͙̖̈̊ī̷͚̩s̸͚̰̙̝̍̔̀r̵̰̐̉e̵̲̳̜̿͐s̷̯̳̦͈̏͐̚͘p̵̜̆e̴̡͖͕̅̈́c̷̼͓͒t̴͇́̈́ ̴̮̳̗͗͛w̷̨̟͙̳̍͒h̷̡̡̗̼̏͋̄e̷̗̓̈̽n̵͔̥͛ͅ ̶̤̉̋̆y̸̪̤̬͙̿͐͝ǫ̶͓̊͝u̷͚̭̳͎̔̓͑-̶̛̗̀̌̕

The aquatic demon snaps his fingers and suddenly, Alastor feels his power leave him. He has not felt tis weak since he was human.

Leviathan: I think I'm a pretty lenient master, Alastor. I gifted you a fraction of my power and let you kill your way up. I don't even meddle in your affairs and yet you still disrespect me? I asked of you one thing since the day you came crawling to me for power: protect the Morningstars. And frankly, right now you're not doing a good enough job.

Alastor: I do not know what you expected from a mere sinner. Plus, I don't seem to recall you doing much better on that front, your Sinfulness.

Leviathan had to let out a laugh. He could admit, the demon says some pretty hilarious things sometimes. It's even cuter when he know Alastor means it.

Leviathan: Ha! You really are a cocky demon. Talking to a Sin like that? Did your darling mother not teach you anything about respecting those who are clearly above you?

Alastor: Only those who deserve it. Like Lucifer.

Alastor still can't get any semblance of strength to pull himself off the ground. He really hates having these rare meet-ups with his master.

The embodiment of Envy stands and the next second, Alastor is being pulled up by his hair, making him look directly at the Sin. He had been averting his eyes for as soon as he felt a shift in the air but the sudden contact forces him come face-to-face with the real eldritch horror.

Leviathan: Let's get one thing straight, deer. I don't care about you, but somehow you made Lucifer do. And I would do anything for Lucifer and his happiness.

The radio demon can feel the tentacles caressing his face and he wants to recoil in disgust.

Leviathan: So, the moment I find out you're just using him for your personal gain, I won't hesitate to eat you over and over and over again. You'll never know a day without pain.

Despite the threat, he can't help the words that comes out of his mouth.

Alastor: But I am.

And if he dies today, he hopes Lucifer won't be too sad.

Leviathan: What did you just say?

Rosie always did say he had a mouth that can rival Susan. Honestly, Alastor has never felt so offended.

Alastor: Did you not hear me, master? I am using him for my personal gain. But not in the way one might think. I'm using him for my happiness and... I hope one day he will come to use me for his.

His answer must have been enough because he's suddenly let go and he can feel his powers flowing back into inside him.

'Right where they belong.'

He brushes himself off like nothing happened. Looking around, it appears that nothing was damaged after the Sin's power-play.

Leviathan: I expect you to report back to me regarding any happenings with the Morningstars and the hotel.

Opening a portal to a purple sky and raging waters, Leviathan gives Alastor one last warning.

Leviathan: Don't disappoint me.

Tsk. He really hates politics.

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

Sorry for the little Alastor dialogue! But!!! Leviathan??

Color me surprised.

I am not calling him Frederick even tho I know officially, he's called Frederick von eldritch.

You telling me that youre one of the most powerful demons in Hell and you name yourself Frederick??

[adhesive-animations]

Charlie’s head shot up from her book as Angel Dust suddenly began snickering at something while scrolling on his phone.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, in a light tone of voice, trying her hardest to not be suspicious and even harder not to sound it.

She failed but Angel chose not to point it out.

“Oh, nothing. Don’t worry your pretty self about it.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes, “Angel…”

Angel sighed, “Honestly Princess, I think it’s funny, I think it might make you sad.”

Vaggie tensed, glancing over at the two, ready to quickly pull Charlie out of the conversation if needed. It was just barely noticeable but Angel caught it from the corner of his eye.

“Is it about the Hotel?”

“Nope! Just about little ol’ me.”

Charlie turned fully towards Angel.

“Is it bad? Is someone harassing you? Is it because you’re here?” Charlie began to spiral, eyes wide and slightly shiny.

Angel forced himself not to roll his eyes, knowing the dramatics were only because she cared.

“No, no, it’s just some of the comments on my latest film are kinda funny.”

Charlie did look sad at the mention of his films and the thought of how people might respond to it.

Niffty, on the other hand, climbed over the top of the couch and across Angel to try and look at the phone in his hands.

“Show me, show me, show me!”

Angel laughed, “Okay, okay!”

He scrolled back a bit, “This the one that made me laugh,” he cleared his throat and then dramatically read out, “Angel dust looks like he tastes like vanilla strawberry pocky, I want to cromch him.”

Husk rolled his eyes at Angel for the way he pitched his voice.

Angel Dust began to giggle and the others, after a moment, joined in which only served to encourage him to start reading other comments out loud as well.

The group spent the rest of afternoon laughing and taking turns dramatically reading out bizarre comments and rating both the original comment and the reader’s performance.

—-

Based on this confession from an anon on the https://www.tumblr.com/hazbinhotel-confessions blog

I hope they don’t mind that it inspired this idea in my head I just thought it was really funny

[rainbow-beanie]

Alastor: you know, I spent most of my life while alive murdering people

Angel, not the least bit surprised: did you spend all your time doing that?

Alastor: hahaha no, I had a radio show! Though unlike the one I have down here, it was just your average radio show with music and the like, and sometimes I’d even talk about current events during that time. My favorite being where I’d talk about this mysterious killer on the loose~

Angel: let me guess, it was you?

Alastor, beaming with pride: YES!! although it was kinda difficult at first talking about it from a news standpoint, since obviously I knew more about the murders that had taken place than some plain ole detective would. So i had to make sure to distance myself from the situation, and talk about it like i was just some average civilian.

Angel: wow. I’m not sure if i should be concerned or impressed. Were you ever caught?

Alastor shakes his head, his ears swaying with the movement: Nope!

[morganski-19]

How Do I Tell You?

based on the Lizzy McAlpine song (go listen to it I beg you it is so huskerdust coded)

Angel is scared. More than he has been in a long time. At least like this. A real relationship should excite him, make him happy. But he can't get over the fear that all of this is going to end.

Scared that Husk will leave him like everyone else tends to. Even though he assures that it will never happen. Or scared that Angel will be someone Husk is scared to love. Because of his past. Because of his present. The addiction that still pulls at his mind and the chain that is wrapped firmly around his soul.

Angel believes that no one could ever love him the way that he is. That's what everyone he's ever been with said. What his family would say if they really knew about him. Everyone except Molly.

But Husk doesn't talk like the rest of them. Doesn't say the mean shit that crushes Angel's spirit. Doesn't play the games. He does the exact opposite. Makes Angel feel like he might be worth something in the end.

That's the thing that makes Angel so scared. He's used to the pain. To the torment. To the abuse. He doesn't know what it's like to be happy with someone. Doesn't know a damn thing about it. It's what he's come to expect. How is he supposed to tell that to Husk? How is he supposed to tell him where it all started?

Husk is someone that Angel wants to know. Wants to know all of the things that he's never told anyone else. All the secrets and insecurities. Everything that makes Husk the man that he is. But in turn, that would make Angel want to tell him the same. And if he did, what would come of it.

Deep down, Angel is ashamed of what's happened to him. Only a few people have seen into his life, that he's let see into his life. There was still so much more that no one knew. No one needed to know.

Angel's not the person he was when he joined the hotel. When all he was doing was just working for Val. There is so much more to him that he is comfortable to be. Comfortable to share. Most of it is because of Husk. Knowing that there was a person out there who liked Angel for who he was without the contract. He couldn't say that for most people.

He wants to tell Husk. He does. Just doesn't know how. How can Angel tell him what really happened to him? How can he admit that he's been waiting for it to all go bad? How he's so used to the pain that he expects it.

How could people write love songs without them being sad? The love that Ange's experienced has only ever been sad. It's all he's known.

[voxaholic]

Vox, Velvette and "fame"

Oh you’re in luck! I went a little over for this one because I actually had a lot to say.

This is a little snippet revolving around Vox being a child actor during the golden age of Hollywood eventually turned gameshow host and Velvette being one of the very first true internet influencers.

Fame was foisted upon Vox like an unwanted hug from a least favorite relative at an age where he was much too young to understand what it meant to be under a contract that he himself had never signed. No, the real work for Vox had been making that fame his own, cutting the strings the studio and his mother had tied taunt around his limbs. True fame for Vox had been going from puppet to puppeteer.

Velvette’s initial rise to fame had meant swimming against a rushing current, carving her own path through a hostile wilderness while her useless slag of a mother served as yet another obstacle for her to overcome. Fame had been better than any drug , it had been the first million followers, her first paid sponsor, the first time a stranger recognized her on the street. Fame had been everything she’d ever wanted and more.

Their paths to fame may have differed, but on every other level they were kindred spirits. Vox had taken one look at a newly-fallen Velvette, seen the same look of ambition, determination, and just the right amount of desperation in her eyes that he’d had at her age, and knew right then she was fit to rule Hell alongside him and Val.

[l3mtea]

“I like you.” Alastor blurts out without a thought. He didn’t intend to say it out loud for the demon beside him to hear.

Nonetheless, he didn’t regret it.

The fallen looks at him, he laughs, a pretty golden blush sprinkle his cheeks.

“I already know that! Tell me something new love.”

The radio demon smiles, “What else is new? I’ve told you everything.”

“Oh I don’t know, tell me about it again.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” Alastor chuckles, his fingers intertwining with his.

And his ballad of praise and love towards the fallen fill the quiet night of the bar.

Alastor watch his beloved blush in gold, laugh at his over-the-top praise, smile brightly like a sun at the final song of his ballad: “and I love everything else about you, mon cher.”

————————————————————

An alternative fluff from a comic I’m still working on. Hope you enjoy the sweetness of Al’s endless doting and affection to Luci <33

[guronffs]

Angel Dust: Y'know, I think I got a new fetish thanks to you. Alastor: Oh, did you now? Angel: Yep, it's being treated like a high class lady from some old romance book. Alastor: Well then, *He proceeds to hold Angel's hand and kiss the top of it.* Good evening, madam. Angel: What are ya doin'? Alastor: *Kisses further up his arm* I couldn't help but notice how your eyes sparkle just as bright as the moon on a clear night. Angel: *slightly moaning* S-stop that. Alastor: *Kisses his shoulder* Perhaps we could take a stroll near the lake at night just to prove it so. Angel: Oh Al... Alastor: *Whispers in his ear* And perhaps, if we're lucky, we could... Angel: Oh god... Alastor: ... dance in the moonlight. *Angel moans loudly as his legs give in, causing him to fall on his knees.* Angel: I hate you. Alastor: *Pats his head* I love you too.

[neiveel3llson]

Not Big Enough (ficlet)

Warnings: Afab! Reader, Dacryphilia, one-shot, 'imagine fucking Vox w his own dick', ramble/ficlet, Sub! Vox, Dommy Mommy, use of 'mommy', smut

In the words of @bigfatbimbo, the power struggle with this man is real. Your first Christmas as an actual couple, he gifted you a replica of his own dick to feed his own ego and to impress people he wants recognition from.

He whispered shit into your ear like 'Can't wait to fuck you tonight', almost like he knew he was gonna be squealing 'mommy' and ruining his voice box. And that's what happened.

He was sat on the bed, the mattress soaked with spit and lube, dick impossibly hard and waterfalling milky precum against his stomach as he cried and rocked his ass against the dildo. Against his own dick.

"Awwe, is it too small, baby?~" You cooed in a sickly sweet voice, which he sobbed at, gently holding the bottom of his screen, feeling his pink saliva and tears run down your hand. It never took much to beat him down, to destroy his ego until he was sobbing and whimpering like a child who lost their toy. He'd come at a touch of your fingers on his aching dick, which is why you kept your hands on his screen.

"Momm- mmnz- mommy, need- need you- hic.." He glitched and sobbed, rocking desperately on the dick he made for you, the dick that wasn't even good enough for him.

"Selfish slut. You expect me to help you get off? How am I meant to get pleasure from that when even you can't?" You asked harshly, a complete 180 from your previous sickly sweet tone, grasping his neck with a strong grip, hearing him gargle slightly before sobbing again. You were right, you always were.

"'M sorry, mommy, I- hnzz- I'll be better next- hic- time- please, please, mommy, please-" He sobbed out desperately, throwing his head back from the grip on his neck, scrunching your shirt tightly in his clawed hands, which had already clawed up the sheets. "It's not big- gghz- enough-"

He whispers airily, slowing his rocking as he pleads for you, pleads for you to let him cum.

"Well, you asked for it.." You mumbled, reaching your hand down and quickly beginning to jack him off, moving your fists up and down at a fast pace, eating up the wet Noises almost outruling his keening. This carried on for the rest of the night, until not only the lights shut off, but he did to..

. . • ° ° • . . • ° ° •. . • ° ° •. . • ° ° •. . • ° ° • . .

AHHHSNXJWKDNFNSISJ

[labyrinthofsphinx]

Statistical Outliers

Part 5...5.5? Idk it's kinda long. Also, Val's in this one a bit. And he's a jerk, so if that's concerning just a heads up. Nothing graphic though.

“Mr. Vox? Sir?”

“Huh?” His voice crackled over the speakers rather than his vocal cords. It ended up louder than he wanted it to be. His assistant nearly jumped out of his skin. Pad in one hand and the other on his headset, he seemed to be trying to find something else to do aside from shaking in place.

“T-the morning broadcast?”

Fuck! What time was it?

Wait. Where was-?

His eyes flicked about the room. Cameras swiveled in place, scanning the immediate area. Every drone, every lens, every goddamn phone and computer camera was dragged from whatever it was supposed to be doing for the moment. In an instant, he was in in Val’s studio, Vel’s design pad, the kitchen set, the main lobby, the elevator, even his monitor room. Thousands of eyes all working with the same goal, the same hive minded command: search everywhere. And he still couldn’t find him.

He stood up way faster than he should, the blood in his body not quite catching up with the adrenalin rush. Electricity vaulted from him like it was trying to run away too. His screen was twitching from the overload.

“Where’s the kid?”

“…kid, sir?”

He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged up. Vox was not a small demon. Sure, he wasn’t Valentino’s obscene height, but he was by no means short. His assistant was dangling in air, legs kicking with panic. Vox understands why. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s fried the brains out of someone using the same pose. But, for now, he opted instead to shake him like a throw rug.

“Yes, the kid! The same fucking kid that’s been here for two days now! Where is he?”

“H-h-h-he’s with Mistress Velvette, s-s-sir.” He stammered. “S-she said had a s-show later today, b-b-but she wanted to spend s-some time with h-her gift. H-h-he should be in her room-”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t know if someone was in her room? He’s not there! So you better get those useless grunts out there and find him before I peel their souls apart-!”

At that moment, Valentino decided now would be the perfect time to barge in. Because the day was already starting out so smoothly. He stormed up the stairs like he was trying to see how many he could break on the way up. He kicked open the door with a hiss.

“Vox! What the fuck? It’s too fucking early in the morning for the high hats to be going off! You’ll burn my fucking eyes out doing that.”

In his rage, he must’ve put a little too much juice into the tower. He dropped his assistant like a rock, stood straight, and smiled. He quickly leaned down, static fizzing through his speakers.

“Your job. Go do it.”

He was out of the room before Val even walked to the couch.

“My apologies, Val. Been meaning to have that wiring looked at. It really shouldn’t be so sensitive.” He readjusted his vest and corrected his antenna. He might still look like he just woke up, but you’d never tell from his performance.

Val, for his part, just took a big drag of his cigarette, smoke curling around the ends of his mouth. It was already half puffed through. Val was a heavy smoker normally, but not usually so early. Aside from that, he had his weight shifted to the side, leaning more so than he might if he was posing. He seemed restless, for lack of a better term. That, in addition to screaming at Vox this early in the morning…yeah, no. This had nothing to do with lighting.

“Yeah, no fucking kidding! Ruined a perfectly good shoot cause the whole place was blinking like a rave! Couldn’t see a damn thing!”

Oh, boy. Here it comes. Trouble. Probably in the pink spider variety.

“Shooting this early, huh? Then I assume-”

“What are you looking for anyway?”

That shook his composure for a moment. Look, Val wasn’t stupid. Well, not in every regard. He knew better than most that the man had certain things he was a bit too scarily informed about, even for Vox. Usually this applied to his particular brand of expertise, but sometimes he does things like this. Vox doesn’t give ‘tells’ anymore. Not when he’s ‘on air’. What’s going on in his brain is purely his own machinations, and he likes it that way.

Ordinarily, no one would blink an eye at the cameras all swiveling about, especially after Alastor returned. It was expected that he was just a lot more attentive now. He had to be. How or why Val knew he was actively looking for something was concerning. Since when did he get predictable?

“Oh, that. Vel’s little pet ran off and I was just trying to-”

He stopped midsentence, a question now clawing into his head.

“…why do you care?”

Valentino doesn’t care what Vox does. This would be a ‘Vox’ problem. Since when has he ever bothered or cared whenever the issue didn’t involve him in some way?

Val’s wings twitched visibly, as if his coat gained sentience and bristled on his behalf.

“Because this little experiment of yours is becoming a problem. And I am fucking tired of cleaning up after it.”

I..he…what?

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t pretend like you didn’t hear me. I know you’ve got every audio upgrade in the world stuck in that head of yours.” He toyed with the fuzz of his collar. His heels clicked against the tile floor as he turned and took his spot on the lounge.

“Val, I’m not sure you understand. The kid is Velvette’s-”

“Yes, yes. I know. Her new stress ball. Here’s the thing. Her new toy is making my old one act out. Every day he comes in bitching about it.” Another long drag of smoke later, and Valentino was starting to puff out designs, mostly hearts. “He asked to speak to you, you know.”

One involuntary twitch later, Vox was back in default mode. Angel Dust didn’t speak to Vox. They’ve never wanted to speak to each other. His grin was sharp and tense. Red lines might be dripping down past the side of his mouth.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he’s under the impression that you might know where the kid is, since you see everything.”

There was a smile playing at the edge of Val’s face, no doubt thinking of some dark concession Angel made for even daring to ask Valentino to bring Vox into this for help. Desperate, it read to Vox as desperate. It was now, what? Three days missing? What exactly did they think would happen to the kid in three days-?

Well…kidnaping, for starters. Threatened with bodily harm, extortion, and dubious enslavement to name a few things.

“…you want me to speak with him?”

Val threw his hands up, like the surprise had just revealed itself.

“You’re so smart, Voxxy! Here’s the deal: you give the kid back to Angel, and babycakes comes back to the tower.”

“You told Angel he was here?” That would be bad on so many fronts. As he said before, he didn’t need the mess from Lucifer coming in here and demanding him back. Secondly, Velvette would not be giving up her prize without an argument…possibly a brawl. Which they did not, currently, want with the Devil.

“Nothing like that! Didn’t want the prissy princess knocking on our door after all. Angel and I just came up with an agreement. If you ‘find’ and get the kid back to him, he’s gonna come back to the studio, full time, just like it used to be. It’s a win, win, darling.”

“A ‘win, win’? It’s not a win, win if you’re losing something to gain something else, Val.” There was something here he was missing. He wasn’t used to that in his conversations with Val.

Val feigned nonchalance badly.

“It’s bad for our image to have a brat running around here.” He started, using an argument more at home on Vox’s tongue. “We got our use out of him. You got your headsets and Vel got her pictures. I say we get rid of the garbage and get back a gem of ours.”

Val…Val doesn’t like the kid. No, worse than that. There was an underlined vitriol there, small skulls hidden among smoking hearts. He hated that kid. He’s never spoken a word to him. Vox is pretty sure they’ve never even been in the same room as each other.

It felt like a small cold spike hit him at the nip of his neck. He’s not even sure why.

It could be because he didn’t think it was all that great of an exchange. They have no promises from the kid, no contract that would keep him from blabbing everything off to the others of that shitty hotel. There’d be no excuse for them not to get a royal breaking down the door for the kidnapping. It could very quicky and very easily get ugly.

There was also the fact that he didn’t want Angel back. He was less of a problem when he was gone. He wasn’t constantly in Vox’s direct vision anymore. He didn’t have to see him every single time he went down to Val’s studios. He could actually talk to Val now, without Angel having to be on his fucking arm.

The weirdest thing though was the stupid, drunk memory coming back from last night. Twelve fucking years old, and he knew Val was just going to rip him apart in front of Angel’s eyes. He’d give him over, only to pull his pistol and fire until he was satisfied. He’d do it, no hesitation. It wasn’t anything new to him, and nothing he hadn’t threatened to do to Angel’s pig before. From the drip of poison falling off the edge of his teeth, Vox could practically smell gun smoke.

“It’d be so easy.” He said, interrupting Vox’s thoughts.

There was so much venom laced in his words.

And for what?

He collected himself. He had more than enough logical arguments for why this was a very bad idea.

“Glad to see you’re taking the initiative in protecting our assets, truly, Val. But I think your missing the bigger picture here-”

The anger was more explosive than Vox expected. He felt like he just tripped on a landmine.

“I’m not missing anything! You think I don’t see what happening here?” The smoke came out like a dragon breathing fire, and even Vox had to pull slightly away. “You’d rather take Velvette’s side than mine. After everything we’ve been through!”

“I’m not taking sides.” He kept his voice even or tried to, as much as possible. Hard to do when he felt like coughing every other word. “But you should consider-”

Val rose to his full height, his wings slightly unfurling. It was mostly for show. He knew that. Valentino felt larger when his wings were fuller, which meant his ego was bruised enough to warrant it.

“Consider this! You get that brat out of here or you can sleep alone!”

Calculations jumped between wires. Thousands of different possible ways to approach this popped up in a million lines of code. One seemed better than the rest. Force the kid under contract, under Velvette’s beck and call. Send him on his way and get Angel Dust back for Val. Let everything here be their little secret. That was the best outcome, the best step forward, the best concession.

It should’ve been so simple to explain. So…why did he hesitate?

It was just a moment, a stupid, uncertain breath.

But it had been enough time for Valentino to erupt.

….

On days like these, he just stayed plugged in. He could make himself look like whatever he wanted over the TV. It’s so convenient, having lines, set, and makeup accessible with the snap of the fingers. Up all night drinking? No problem! No one can even see the bags under your eyes in cyberspace. Overworking your systems to the point of failure? Nothing a minor edit can’t fix.

Your face bashed into pieces by your pissed off scorned lover? Meh, not as if anyone can tell. Every single copy he projected looked just as spotless as he had this morning.

That didn’t change the fact that, every once in a while, glass shards, bits of his screen, fell into his actual, physical lap. While his cyber copies went over the recent sports games, his gaze drifted off to his aquarium. Inside, his sharks were viciously circling. The hammerhead had ripped another chunk out of their breakfast and was currently striving to keep it away from the tiger shark. Its success was about a fifty fifty split. The tiger stole an arm, and, in the crossfire, the fingers were ripped free. They drifted down, right past his console. The smaller baitfish darted in and out for the occasional snack.

It was another reminder of things that haven’t changed. The bigger fish eat their fill, the small have to fight for scraps. The philosophy of life didn’t change much, even when you died. Which all the more explains why it’s the old guard fighting against progress. Evolution wasn’t an idea people wanted to accept for a long time.

For a moment, he thought back to a conversation he had with Alastor, back when they were still on speaking terms. Funny enough, he’d used Vox’s own pets to poke holes in his theory. He’d mentioned that, if what scientists had said was true, then wasn’t the shark a very obvious and glaring exception to this silly little theory? They’ve had the same role since they first popped up, and practically stayed the same for millions years. Surely, if things were constantly changing, his pets would be so different compared to how they are. So, naturally, it must all be noise.

He’d always say it like that, like science and theories were nonsense children played with. As there was magic and demons and angels running about, he understood at the time why’d Alastor thought that way. The supernatural was scary, big, and intimidating in ways people just weren’t. Of course, Al had died back when the airplane was a brand-new toy and air raids where the scariest thing humans could be capable of.

Vox was alive to see the bomb drop. Alastor’s entire body count, here and on earth, made negligible in the span of seconds.

Sharks weren’t the same as they had been back when they first sprung up. Same basic function, sure, but it’s viciousness, advantages that drove change. It was better to be smarter, to diversify, to eat whatever and whenever you could. Being picky and unwilling to adapt turns you chum eventually.

He hadn’t said that at the time though. He still thought they were friends after all. Instead, he offered a different, perhaps even scarier idea. Since hell was real and humans haven’t been around all that long,  had the angels just been content to watch animals kill each other for millions of years? Whose idea was it to introduce hunger to the world?

Alastor hadn’t had an answer for him. He had pointed out the hilarity of it though, that hell was just earth before man. Just a bunch of animals eating each other.

He almost missed those weird conversations. They weren’t the kinds of things he could talk about with Valentino or Velvette. Val would tell him to have a smoke. Vel would probably respond with a meme.

His screen glitched as he accidentally brushed an exposed segment. Pain shot up and about the circuitry. It was the closest he could get nowadays to touching a bruise on his face. Though, most people don’t run the risk of accidentally cutting themselves on their faces, puffy or not.

Hm. Serves him right. He should’ve just done what he had in mind. He should’ve gotten the kid under contact day one. Then, this wouldn’t have been an issue.

The doors opened with a metallic whoosh, the tell-tale sounds of his terrified assistant putting on the floor.

“Would you put me down? I can walk, you know.”

“M-Mr. Vox, sir! I’ve found him.”

Vox’s claw dug into the chair. Yes, technically, he had asked for him to find the kid. He can’t maim him for listening to orders. But the very last thing he wanted right now, was for the source of all his recent troubles to be in his personal space.

If it wasn’t for him, his face would still be in one piece. He wouldn’t be down a brand-new screen and having to wait for literal days to get it replaced. He wouldn’t be treading the dangerous waters between his two fellow Vees. He wouldn’t be trying to figure out how to navigate this stupid secondary deal of Val’s and Angel’s. He wouldn’t have to stress about the idea of Angel being back full time.

He was on top of the fucking world not three days ago. And now…

The screens around flashed red for a moment. His assistant all but dropped the kid and fled the room. He knew all too well what all that meant.

The kid didn’t. Obviously. Because he started walking over, stilling only to observe the corpse floating about the water.

“Um…who’s that?”

“That,” He started, his voice unhinging as his frustrations kept building. “is what happens to people who waste my time.”

His fingers tapped against the metal, making a harsh, sharp sound. Current pulsed about, feeling to him like a wire about to snap and lash out of control. Small pains in his face pinched like exposed nerves, getting worse and more numerous with each passing second, but Vox’s patience was too far gone to care.

“What did he…I mean-”

“What did he do?” Vox finished. He supposed his voice was teetering a little too close to the preverbal edge, because the kid stopped walking towards him. “That there is my assistant, the one whose specific job it is to stock up on the usual necessities of Vee tower. If something is needed, he fetches it. If something is missing, he finds a replacement. And if something is broken, it’s his job to get it fixed.”

Sparks started bouncing between screens, flickering them. Some stray arcs dashed up towards the ceiling, causing havoc with the aquarium lights. Every couple of seconds, the room would get ungodly dark, illuminated only by the glow of shark teeth and his own screen peering into the abyss. He stood up from his chair.

“Well, something did get broken.” His tone still sounded friendly, on paper. “And it can’t be fixed at the moment. So, whose fault is that, hm? The man who was supposed to make sure it did get fixed…”

Volts burst about him in streaks of light. His physical form splintered into pieces, ripped apart by the power of screaming energy. As lightning, he was too fast to see, to comprehend. The thunder that followed in his wake shook the tower. In the time it took him to burst into creation there on the catwalk, the kid hadn’t even had time to take a breath.

Thousands of screens bore down on them, projecting blazing red views of Vox’s anger and the kid’s own terror from every angle conceivable. Oh, what a film it would be! It was the making of a perfect horror flick. Slasher flick, of course. The kind where no one made it out alive.

“And the stupid child that broke it in the first place!”

His red, hypnotic eye dilated in fury. Half of his body still felt like it was lightning, fighting against itself to stay in one place. The rest felt cold like ice, a sheet of hollowed flesh and metal. Oh, Tin man, did you ever have a heart to begin with?

Red dripped down from the side of his screen, as it always does when he gets himself too worked up, too enraged, too excited. His smile grew too wide for his face, teeth stuck between phases existence. All the while, the shattered sections of ruined glass contorted and bent every pixel of his face into some nightmarish creation. Like a deranged dog, his expressions flickered between a sickening sadism and malicious mania.

The kid’s hand flew up to his face, catching a scream in his throat. His pupils dilated with fear, the kind that Vox had been owed this whole time. Tears welled in his eyes and pooled at the corners of lashes.

This is the respect he should’ve had. This was how he was supposed to be treated. His name should breed dread in the soul, bring your body to quiver with horror. He was fucking Overlord Vox! If he wasn’t going to be given respect, he would take it. He-

“Are you okay?”

Something numbed just then. A million different angles, of a trembling lip, of tears streaming down his face in rivulets, of his chest heaving and unable to keep a steady breath, it was all the perfect shot right before the killer’s knife.

It was terror. It was the very definition of terrified.

It just had nothing to do with Vox. Or, rather, it was nothing Vox was doing on purpose.

“Are you hurt?” The kid’s voice cracked with strain. And, suddenly, he wasn’t standing still anymore. He quickly wiped his tears best he could and grabbed Vox by the hand. It was so gentle, like Vox was one who might shatter at any time. “Y-you need to sit. S-should I call a doctor? D-do you have any electrical tape?”

The numbness prickled like a limb that just fell asleep, nothing but nerve endings failing to send anything but signals of stinging. That’s what this was, stinging everywhere. His hand hurt to hold. He was guided back to his chair, without a single thought of input. He was too dazed to understand.

What had just happened?

The kid reached around, looking under and about the different units. He found the emergency tape, the one Vox personally stores. Almost immediately, he jumped up on the arm rest and started pulling the worst bits together. He saw him cut himself a few times, red dripping down from tiny fingertips. It streaked bright against dark fur.

Looking at it for too long flipped his stomach.

“There. I think…I think that’s the worst of it.” The kid muttered, though he’d not sure if he was talking to himself or Vox. “But we really ought to figure out how to repair it ASAP. The impact left a dent on the interior screen and that’s not something the tape can really help with. Do you, um, heal normally or..?”

“…no, I…I usually have to replace them.”

“Do you have a spare?”

How did this conversation get here?

“No, that’s…that’s what I tossed my assistant in with the sharks for. Are you seriously not afraid of me?”

The kid looked at him, shock on his face.

“What? No! You’re hurt! Like, really bad. I’m not really an expert on cybernetics or anything, but I don’t think I’d feel good or be in good mood if my face was split in half.”

A good mood? Really?

“I fed a man to my sharks.”

The kid cringed.

“Yeah, okay, granted. That’s, um, really not good.”

“But you’re not afraid of me? You do realize I was going to feed you to my sharks, right?”

He paused for a moment, scratching the fur by his cheeks. His ears fell a little at his words, but he offered up a pathetic smile, nonetheless.

“I’m not sure I’m really all that good to eat. They’d probably be choking up hairballs for a week.”

“I’m being serious.” He hissed.

“…I know but…I mean, I was afraid. A bit. But…then I saw all of that and…um…” The kid bit the inside of his lip.

Numbness gave way to an emotion Vox was much more familiar with. Now, he was just pissed off.

“You think I want your pity?” He smiled too wide, and some of tape ripped. “You, haha, you think I’d give a shit what you think? Haha, oh, kid. That’s just pathetic!”

“…why do you think that someone caring about you is pathetic?”

Oh, that one felt like a gut punch. Knocked the wind out of him and set him spiraling. The kid put more tape on the part that ripped.

“I’m sorry, by the way.” He said, all of a sudden. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

His fury was ripped from him. Every ounce of him that wanted to lash out at something, anything, to get it out of his system just vaporized and flew away. What the fuck was he doing, threatening children anyways? What was his plan here? Brutalize him? Velvette would be pissed because her toy was gone. Valentino would be pissed because his deal would fall through. His stupid hotel mates would be pissed because, you know, murder. And he’d be mad with himself because, goddamnit, he’d be stuck with mental image of beating up a defenseless child.

See this? This is why you think before you act, Vox. This is why you’re the brains of the Vees: the connective tissue, the thing keeping everything in working order, and the one responsible with making sure all this shit keeps running.

Being emotional trainwrecks was his co-workers jobs.

He waved the kid away from his face. He did pull back, and dropped down next to the chair, allowing Vox some time to collect himself before looking him in the eye again.

“Where were you this morning anyways?”

“Velvette thought it’d be funny if you couldn’t find me, so she stuck me in the oven.”

Oh, yes. Sure. Why not? Hope it was hilarious, Vel.

“Where you there the whole time?”

“She gave the impression that I wasn’t supposed to move, unless you were going to start preheating the oven.”

Yeah, that sounds like Vel. He nodded along, trying not to acknowledge his reflection, a mosaic of glass, tape, and the smallest cuts of blood.

“You know, I think a lot of these screens are the right size and make. Why not just use one of them?” He asked.

“Hm? Oh, that. Well, contrary to popular opinion, this head of mine isn’t just any old TV.” He started presenting like he would on commercial, only more tired. “I’ve had every mod and upgrade installed, the best speakers, direct wifi connectivity, complete automation of any and all Voxtek products directly from my thoughts, the works. Making a new head takes time. Lots of it. Every piece has to be specially ordered to my specifications, installed, then run through about a hundred different redundancies before I’d even consider switching over. That’s why I was so pissed off. Because now I’m stuck with this until the new one is finished, and who knows how long that will take.”

The kid’s face squinted.

“…but you don’t have to make all new circuitry. You can just rewire a new screen with the original parts.”

“…come again?”

“Whoever told you that you have to make all new parts every time a screen broke is wrong. I fix TVs all the time, old ones and new. It’s pretty simple.”

Vox knew a lot about tech. He kinda had to. But for this one, specific thing, he actually kind of required there to be another person’s opinion, since he can’t exactly install himself by himself (yet). The engineer that he relied on for so long had lot of explaining to do.

“I was under the impression that some of it was built into the framework itself.”

The kid shook his head.

“Nah, that’d be silly. That’d mean that every single TV would have to be wired differently because of size and stuff. It’s just easier to have universal screens and plugs.”

You know what? Maybe his anger wasn’t quite spent. But he’s certainly picked a better target.

“…you said you repair TVs?”

“Yeah, all the time. I like fixing things. I’m, like, the unofficial handyman back at the hotel!” He beamed in pride again.

“Isn’t it Alastor’s job to make sure things work?”

“Yeah, but Al’s idea of wiring comes from a time when DC current was still being used. I don’t know about you, but I kinda don’t trust him not to accidently burn the hotel down…again.”

He laughed. It hurt to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. That shit was funny.

When laughs turned to snickers, and he composed himself enough to finally think, he started with a deep breath.

“Do you think you could do it?”

“Do what?”

“Change out the screen.”

“On…on you face?”

“Eugh. Yes, kid. On my face.”

His nails involuntarily popped out as he scratched his neck, nerves finally getting to him. He keeps forgetting foxes could do that, extend their claws similar to cats. Honestly, he’s now wondering why he hadn’t tried threatening with them earlier. Had he even taken a swipe at his grunts? He doesn’t think so.

“I mean, mechanically, yeah. I just don’t know how that works with being your face.”

He snickered.

“Kid, I am so much more than this.” He gestured to his body. With a snap of his fingers, he cut across every screen in the place. Living electricity, part of his very being, danced between the devices. “Even if you wanted to, popping off my head isn’t gonna kill me.”

Call him a hydra. There were simply too many heads to cut off before that was ever an option.

“Cool.” Awe peppered in there as his attention kept getting pulled about. “But, um, how do I…um…remove your head?”

“Oh, that? Easy.” With a simple motion, he ripped his head off.

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10

[vii-doodles]

HazbinAutumnWeek Day 3: Trick or Treating!

Little 1k+ StaticApple / Valastor writing under the cut ✨

The three overlords and their majesty made a striking group as they strolled down the streets of Hell in their Halloween costumes, heading toward the final stop of the night: the Hazbin Hotel, where a Halloween party was waiting for them.

Valentino, dressed as Cruella with a massive black-and-white fur coat, a black dress so sleek it perfectly melted into every curve of his body and an elegant cigarette holder, had a gentle hand on Alastor’s shoulder. Alastor, perfectly in character as Lady Tremaine, wore a wine-red gown with puffy shoulders and an air of refined mischief that suited him too well. One of Val’s extra arms was looped through Alastor’s, keeping them close.

Infront them, Vox trailed along with a pumpkin-shaped basket in hand, his screen projecting fake stitches to his amused grin and wearing a black suit, perfectly representing Jack Skellington, as he watched Lucifer practically skipping ahead. Lucifer, fittingly dressed as Sally was filled with pure excitement, his face lit up with childlike glee as he bounded up the hotel's hill.

“Trick or treat!” he shouted eagerly, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. As the doors of the Hotel opened to welcome them, Lucifer couldn’t contain himself and gave a little jump, his stitched-up sleeves flapping. Charlie, who had opened the doors, squealed excited at the sight of them.

Val chuckled, squeezing Alastor’s arm gently. “Seeing the the king of hell being so... Lively... because of some candy was truly not on my bingo card for this year.” he murmured, watching Lucifer with genuine amusement.

Vox smirked, watching his lover with an affectionate glint in his eyes. He’d been the one to tell Lucifer all about trick-or-treating, a quaint human tradition that seemed like an odd fit for the ruler of Hell. But Lucifer had been all in from the start, insisting they go all out, costumes and all. And now here he was, fully immersed in the experience, delighted at every door that had handed him a handful of sweets.

Of course, for Vox, there was an added step at every stop. The moment they collected their candy, he’d casually flicker his screen, sending out subtle hypnotic waves that glazed over the minds of each demon they encountered. Couldn’t have it getting around that three of Hell’s most feared Overlords, plus Lucifer himself, were out indulging in such a cutesy and domestic activity. Maintaining their reputation took a bit of effort, after all.

Charlie stepped aside and made them follow her inside of the Hotel, her own costume an adorable mishmash of pumpkin and ghost elements. “Welcome, welcome! I’m so glad you all made it!” She beamed, clapping her hands together. “Come on in! This party’s just getting started!”

Lucifer was the first inside, his eyes darting immediately to the tables loaded with an array of Halloween-themed snacks. There were candied apples, marshmallow ghosts, and a bubbling punch bowl filled with some ominously glowing green liquid. “Oh, Vox, look at all this!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing as he took in the spread.

Vox smirked as he followed Lucifer toward the food, holding the pumpkin basket as Lucifer picked out treats with the enthusiasm of a child. “I swear,” Vox teased, leaning in close, “it’s like you’ve never seen candy before.”

Lucifer chuckled, casting Vox a sidelong glance. “It’s not really the candy,” he murmured, his voice softening with a hint of wonder. “It’s the whole experience. I never truly celebrated Halloween before... I suppose I just lost interest in human festivities after a while.” He paused, looking around the decorated room with genuine appreciation. “But tonight... it feels different. It’s… nice, having a reason to enjoy all this.”

A warm smile softened Vox’s usually sharp features. Without a word, he placed a gentle hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He could feel his own heart stirring, watching the joy on Lucifer’s face, a brightness that made him feel lighter. “Then enjoy it,” Vox said quietly, his voice filled with warmth. “I can’t imagine a better Halloween than this one, seeing you this happy.”

Charlie smiled fondly at Vox's and her father's interaction, watching them with warmth in her eyes before turning back to Valentino and Alastor, who had stepped inside hand in hand.

“So, over here’s the dance floor,” she said, leading them to a spacious area adorned with flickering jack-o’-lanterns and fake cobwebs. “And we’ve got a few different drinks set up. There’s something smoky, something sweet, and, of course, something... a little more intense.”

Alastor’s eyes lit up as he took in the carefully arranged tables, and he gave Charlie an approving nod. “My, my, you’ve outdone yourself, Miss Morningstar. Quite the spread you’ve got here. I couldn't have done it better.”

Charlie blushed, clearly thrilled at Alastor's approval. “Thanks, Alastor! And you two look fantastic. I mean, really! Cruella and Lady Tremaine?” She gave a playful smile, “Absolutely villainous. Though... I wasn't aware that you knew who they are, Al.”

Valentino chuckled, smoothing the fur on his Cruella coat. “Only the best for a night like this.” His arm remained looped with Alastors. "though I had to rather force those films onto him" he added, pulling Alastor a little closer and to Charlie's suprise, Alastor didn't even protest. With a smile on her lips she left as Vaggie called out for her.

As they made their way through the Halloween crowd, Valentino nudged Alastor with an elbow, a smirk creeping onto his face. "I gotta hand it to you, cariño,” he drawled, eyeing Alastor’s Lady Tremaine costume. “You look almost as good as me in a villain’s getup.”

Alastor chuckled, a sly smile curling on his lips as he adjusted the collar of his gown. "Almost? Darling, I'm practically the embodiment of evil elegance," he replied smoothly. "And I didn’t even need to slip into stilettos to pull it off."

Val laughed, glancing down at his own black stilettos. “Oh, you wish. These things are a statement, baby. Though I gotta admit,” he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a playful murmur, “I never thought I'd see you in something this... flamboyant.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow, pretending to be scandalized. “Why, Valentino! Are you suggesting I’m anything less than flamboyant every day?”

Val threw his head back in laughter. “Touché. Guess I forgot who I was talking to.” He glanced at Alastor, eyes gleaming. “So, when’s the next dance? I wanna see if you’re as smooth on the floor as you are with that silver tongue.”

Alastor smirked, offering his hand with a dramatic flourish. “Shall we find out, darling?”

Val took it without hesitation, the two overlords slipping seamlessly into a waltz amid the costumed chaos around them, both too proud to let the other outshine them, and both enjoying every second of it.

[bruciemilf]

You know who I’m most excited to meet in Hazbin Hotel?

God.

Would they be as spunky and raunchy and saucy as the rest of the cast? Would their speech be polished and carefully molded to plastic perfection like heaven is?

What’s their relationship with Adam? You know, Allfather of creation and all? World giver? Forger of bone and flesh? Would he be classically paternal? Is that why Adam’s such a douchebag?

Like, what if Adam DIDN’T start that way?

What if God’s treatment of EVE jumpstarted Adam’s absolute dumbassery? How can one be kind when their own maker prides itself on ruthlessness?

There’s a scene playing in my mind, quite gruesomely so, so be warned.

I’m thinking of Eve, with sweat and tears storming down her face, laid on perfectly cut grass in Eden.

She doesn’t know what’s happening to her. She just knows there’s a person being squeezed out of her. Cain, God calls it.

“What’s happening to her?!” Adam’s voice is rough, and loud, and not all that angelic for his status. He’s speaking to the sky, to a huge eye that watches and does nothing.

“Oh, that? Well, I just figured it’s been getting awfully lonely around here for you two, so I conjured this little thing! You’re welcome. “

What’s there to be thankful for? His wife roaring in pain? Squeezing his hands so tightly his fingers almost snap? Who’d look at this and want to praise it?

Adam’s voice is panicked, holding Eve tightly to his body, stroking her ashen hair and sweetening his tone as much as could,

“Shh, baby you’re doing great, it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay— fuck, — Help her!“

“Oh don’t be so dramatic! She’ll be fiiine. I made them very durable, you know. “ Women, they mean women, — women made for bleeding; Women born for taking pain, and heal from pain, and do it all over again.

That’s not power. It’s curse.

“Give her something! Anything!”

“Oh, that won’t be invented for a long time, buddy. And it won’t be available to them for even longer, — yeesh, your kin is pretty problematic if I do say so myself. But you got this! I’ll check in later. Maybe. Tell me how it goes!”

It goes bloody. The thing, — baby, — is born quietly, with an angry short of silence inside him, as if he’s waiting to eat the world whole. A part of Adam hopes he succeeds.

He doesn’t let go of Eve for days.

He just knows, above or below, with a God like that, they’re all fucked.

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

Anthony

"Angel!" Nothing, "Angel Dust!" Still no fucking response, "ANTHONY!"

"Don't call me that fucker."

"Great so you can hear me."

"What the fuck do you want?"

"You aren't going back to him."

"Leave me the fuck alone on that one Husker." He didn't even react to the Husker part,

"He's a fucked up bitch, he's fucking hurting you, you aren't going anywhere near him Anthony."

"Stop calling me that, and are you forgetting the fact that he fucking owns me?!"

"That doesn't make it any better."

"It's not like I have a choice, leave me the fuck alone Husk." Angel Dust walked straight out, ignoring any and all of the bartenders protest. Husk took a long sip of whiskey, another one who'd sold a soul without knowing what would come with it.

He'd locked himself in his room, there was nothing he could fucking do, he deserved this. He was in Hell for fucks sake he shouldn't be fucking surprised, he cried but it would never do anything, he was fucking helpless. At this point he was a living sex toy.

"One more time." He wanted to run,

"Of course." He said licking his lips. The chains, the lead, the lights. Nothing was new. He didn't feel it anymore, he couldn't fucking care anymore. Angel woke in a cold sweat, it was only a nightmare he told himself, but he knew it would happen tomorrow and every day to come after that. Another taste of those bitter lips, another day of getting used like a sex toy, what the fuck had his death come to?

He took a breath of nicotine in before throwing the cigarette out, he didn't need any more yelling today, he didn't know if he could handle it. He walked inside the hotel, sitting down at the bar.

"What's the strongest thing you got Husk?" Choosing to ignore the last conversation they had, sadly however, Husk didn't.

"We're not finished." He said in a matter of fact voice.

"Just give me something strong Husk, I don't have the energy for this."

"Later." Tears fell from his eyes,

"I- I just don't want to fucking feel right now."

"When you're in deep shit trust me being numb won't make any of your shit work out later."

"It's too much."

"Hey, listen to me Angel. We're going to get your soul back and that bitch away from you okay?"

"How?"

"You're forgetting we know the most powerful demons in Hell." They just sat in silence for a few minutes before they eventually moved on with the day, both hoping that this would be one of the last times Angel had to worry about Valentino. The one thing they had hope in.

[deadgirlwalking91]

Do you think you could write a short scenario where Lilith realizes just exactly what Lute and Adam are to each other? Or rather, what she perceives them to be? Something like

"I see you've found another replacement, Adam."

"Watch it, Witch." Adam snarled.

Even if Adam's assured Lute a million times that she's his best girl, his one and only, I could see something like that digging under Lute's skin something fierce.

Hey Anon,

I hope this is what you had in mind ❤️

Lilith drummed her long, black fingernails lazily on the varnished tabletop as she gazed out the window.

These annual meetings with her brute ex-husband were such a drag. Honestly, being subjected to the same idle pratter year after year was starting to become a real chore.

At least this time Lucifer had left her alone to deal with him. He was always so insistent on keeping their dealings strictly business. Now, with him otherwise occupied, she could at least have a little… fun.

“Did you hear me, harpy?” Adam snapped. Sighing, Lilith turned her head to face him.

Poor darling. Afterlife had not been kind to him. His once bright, wonder-filled eyes were now heavy-lidded and framed with bags. The way his face, once angular and chiseled, had filled out - not heinously, but enough - hinted at some level of overindulgence. Perhaps he feasted more often than he should, or drank himself silly most nights.

She didn’t know. She didn’t care.

“Sweetheart,” she began, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed the small woman next to him stiffening slightly. She was a plain little thing, with a harsh face and short, cropped hair that did her no favours. “You should know by now that I’m only here out of obligation. I haven’t been paying a word of attention to whatever it is you’ve been rambling on about since you opened that foul mouth of yours.”

“You always were a defiant bitch, Lil.”

“Now, now darling, must we resort to childish name-calling?” she chided, propping her hand on her chin. “Especially when we’re amongst company? I see you’ve found another replacement. Who, I might add, you’ve still not introduced me to. You always did have awful manners.”

The woman furrowed her thin brows slightly, but made no comment at Lilith’s jab.

“Shut it, witch,” Adam snarled. He jerked his head towards his companion. “This is Lute.”

“And whom might Lute be to you?”

“Lieutenant of the Exorcist Army. As if it wasn’t fucking obvious enough with the uniform.”

Now, it wasn’t Adam’s answer that made Lilith sit up a little straighter, nor was it the realisation that their meeting was soon to come to an end. No, it was the very brief wave of disappointment that flickered across Lute’s face when he introduced her as his lieutenant.

That expression told Lilith everything she needed to know.

Clasping her hands together on the table, Lilith cleared her throat before addressing Lute directly. “And how long have you been Adam’s… lieutenant, dear?”

“Many years, your Highness,” she answered dutifully. Her voice was as sharp as her face. No softness to her whatsoever.

Very different to Adam’s usual type, indeed.

“I see,” Lilith said. Her lips curled into a tiny, knowing smile as she asked, “And how long have you been fucking my ex-husband?”

Fury burned in Lute’s eyes as she opened her mouth to respond, but Adam quickly intercepted. “Don’t you dare fucking ask her shit like that, Lilith.”

It was hard to contain her smirk as she watched Adam snarl at her like a rabid dog. Still, she couldn’t help but recognise the softness that crossed his eyes as he stared at the girl.

It was something she’d felt from him, once. A very, very long time ago.

“Oh, don’t get all bent out of shape, Adam, I was just asking a simple question. Honey,” she turned to address Lute, who’s face had turned a brilliant shade of gold. “Let me offer you a little piece of advice. Woman-to-woman. Don’t put up with his disgusting behaviour. Get out while you still can.”

“With all due respect, ma’am,” Lute said, her voice thick with venom that held nothing but pure disdain for Lilith, “I don’t need you sticking your horns in affairs that are none of your business.”

Oh, dear. She was infatuated with Adam. Blindly so, it seemed. Yes, now Lilith could see the way she gazed back at him so adoringly, so lovingly, like he was the only thing in the world that mattered to her.

Stupid girl. They deserved each other.

“Very well. Suit yourself.” Lilith rose from her seat gesturing towards the door. “I believe our little meeting here is done.”

[duckie-deer-prompts]

Duckie Deer Prompt #24

Alphabet Prompt #3: Charcuterie

When Lucifer had been asked to shower before they had dinner in Alastor's room, this wasn't what he'd had in mind.

Alastor instructed him to strip down to his boxer briefs and lay on the fluffy towel that'd been spread on the table (with a hand from Alastor to steady him.) He'd then been given a pillow for under his head and knees.

"I'm all for foreplay but I thought we were having dinner." Lucifer asked.

"We are, my dear," he reassured him, before bringing out small containers of various finger foods. Without warning, he began laddling different sauces, placing crackers and arranging meats, fruits and vegetables along strategic spots on Lucifer's exposed body.

[morganski-19]

Angel gets into Heaven and Husk doesn't. When the seraphims come to pick him up, he can't leave. Not when someone is still stuck here.

Husk smiles at Angel with tears in his eyes. Knowing that this might be the last time they ever see each other. Angel might be free, but Husk isn't. Even if he was, he'd still have a long way to go to redemption. Angel was always going to be the first to leave.

They knew that, but it didn't make this any better.

"Go," he says with a strong voice. "You've earned it."

Earning it means nothing when his biggest support has to stay here. "I can't. Not without you."

Husk tries to laugh like it's all a joke, but it just comes out sad. "If you don't, you might never get another chance."

"I don't care. We'll find a way to go together if we can. Heaven will be shit without you there with me."

"No, it won't. Heaven will be all that it's chalked up to be. And you won't be missing anything, cause you won't remember me."

"You say that like it makes it better." A lump forms in Angel's throat, threatening to make him sob. "I'd rather stay a million years in Hell than a day in Heaven if that means I can still be with you."

Husk takes Angel's hands, gripping them tight. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. How can I leave when the one good thing that ever happened to me is standing right in front of me?"

For a second, Angel thinks that he might have gotten through. Broken Husk's strength to say no. Husk pulls Angel into a hug. holding him close like it's the last time. It can't be. It won't. Angel isn't leaving this.

"I love you, Angel," Husk whispers. "But I could never forgive myself if I'd let you miss the thing you've been working so hard for."

Before he realizes it, Husk pushes Angel away from him. Right into the portal. Angel tries to regain his balance, his third set of arms spawning to try and grab at something, anything.

"Husk, no," Angel yells as he falls through the portal. It closes after him.

Suddenly, Angel's mind goes blank.