#hazbin tavern

[katyakurae]

It's a little funny, you can almost call me dad! Hazbin Tavern, a DnD AU

Or your magic teacher, whatever works best.

[ventirox]

A 'Hazbin twist' on one of my favorite Theophile Steinlen posters, featuring Husk. I felt "tavern" made more sense than "tour" The red text in the halo says "Hell's Best" and the address on the bottom right SHOULD say "Pride Ring, 666 Brimstone Rd", but I absolutely do not speak French (apologies for my crappy attempt if it's incorrect lol) I tried to be as true to the original piece as possiblear

[citruswriter]

Hello and welcome to my writing blog!

I like to write. So uh, I'm gonna write. Yk, when I have the motivation. ANYWAYS-

Name: Lofi/Tavern

Age: Chrono young 20s (I'm secretly a primordial entity tho, obvi 💅)

Pronouns: They/Them, Thou/Thee, Ech/Echo, Bee/Bees & Fae/Faer

Honorifics: Vs, Sai, Mir, Miss (playfully), Ma'am (formal/if close)

Terms: Feminine, Masculine, Neutral, Nonhuman

Relationship Status: Happily Married and queerplatonically taken x2!

Extras: Multireligous, Objectum, Fictospec, Queer, etc.

Divider Credit

My Omegaverse Ranks

Fandoms get their own masterlist once I've written at least three things about them.

Used your artwork and you want me to remove it/credit you? Send me a message and lmk!

Citrus Scale: The Levels and What They Mean

Orange 🧡 - General Writings. So this would be fluff, angst, comfort, and similar.

Lime 💚 - Slight spice but not flat out nsfw. Heavy make out, sexual tension, maybe some milder things like grinding or choking.

Lemon 💛 - The filth and sin. Full blown tango. Actually nsfw. Le sex. General kinks added in as well.

Grapefruit 🩷 - A rarer ranking not often used to be alluded to darker things. Such as yandere, Stockholm Syndrome, gRape, murder, body mutilation, etc. Usually sexual or has sexual themes but not always.

Fandoms I Write For

Baldur's Gate Three

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Hazbin Hotel

Creepypasta

Hetalia

Star Wars/KotoR 2

Hogwarts

MeChat

Melanie Martinez/Crybaby

Anyways I think that's it. Send in those requests!

[skeletalsepulchre]

can i talk about one thing about hazbin hotel thats bothered me like ever since i learned about it. even before i was a professional hater i fucking. the name makes no sense to me a has-been is someone who was notable in the past but is now washed up. i guess the idea is that they were sinners but now arent, but the rehabilitation effort is whats STARTING in the series, not concluding the people arent all incredibly well-known and established people in hell. why is it called hazbin. what were they.

sorry im watching that cassidy whiskey video and she talks abt how the hotel really takes a backseat so it doesnt stick with its premise and im like. SO WHY IS IT CALLED HAZBIN WHY IS THIS WORD HEREEEEEEEE this has bothered me since i learned about it. none of them are hazbins they are is-are's. am i insane. again even back when i was interested in it in like middle school this drove me crazy. say what you will about helluva boss but theres a BOSS. a hell of a boss. i think its a clever little name right idk i dont know how well the show sticks to it but like of course a demon workplace comedy helluva boss that makes sense. BUT WHO ARE THE HAS-BEENS HERE i know the lore is like alastor named it and hes an asshole or something but these people aren't even has-beens they aren't particularly important like sure people might know of them but theyre not the overlords or something i dont think an asshole famous radio host demon would even dignify them with the title of has-been this is just like the nobody motel.

idk what id call it if it was my thing but like in theory if the hotel was really relevant maybe like Corrupt-Inn if you want something ironic or Mediocrity Motel or Little Mercies Redemption Center where everybody can be you but better or Mortification Motel that one I could see actually i kinda like that it sounds like something out of Heck (book series) or the Repenitentiary or Motel Morphoses or Morningstar Beg-and-Benison or Habromania Hotel or Hamartia Hotel or Hamshackle Hotel or Haus Mannize or Hebetude Hotel or even Heresy Hotel really like i think you could swing that given it goes against the entire philosophy of Hell or Baumes Rush Lodge or Big House Hotel (20s slang for jail im clarifying because im not sure if thatd show up in a search) or Two-Bit Tavern or Changing Chumps Reformation Center or Flimflam Resort or The Mark (as in, the target of a con) Motel

sorry i just started having fun saying shit . none of that really matters

[nerdestiwrites]

Tales of the Shadow (Hazbin Hotel Pirate AU)

The taste of salt wasn’t something that Charlie would ever be able to get out of her mouth it seemed, even after being on land for a few days after making port. Everything had a salty taste to it, bread, meat, ale, or whatever was being passed off as ale in the small fishing port. It either was that she’d forever have the salt of the sea in her mouth for the rest of time or that salt was the only seasoning that the people of the port knew how to use. Perhaps it was a mixture of both or perhaps it was all in her head. Either way, she’d learn to live with it, and hope that the next time they docked somewhere would prove it one way or another. 

Walking had gotten easier, she hadn’t fallen since the first day off the ship, even with her boots getting stuck in the muddy streets and nearly getting ripped off twice now. She’d only had to grab onto Vaggie twice for support, and once did Vaggie have to push her out of the way from a carriage nearly running her over. 

It had been a better day, the best out of the three that they’d spent docked. No one had tried to rob them or proposition them in any way, and most even stopped cursing them out when Charlie would try to talk to them. She couldn’t say it was all luck or the locals starting to like the two of them, a lot of it was thanks to Vaggie. She’d stopped the would-be thieves the first day, and on Charlie's behalf, only took a finger from each to teach them each a lesson. Vaggie would’ve preferred killing them but Charlie reminded her that wasn’t what they were there for. They needed people to want to come with them.

Charlie stopped in front of a tavern that they hadn’t ventured into yet and peered inside. The door was open, or rather, hanging off one of the hinges and the activity of the day had left the piece of wood pushed aside for easy in-and-out access to the place. Laughter, shouting, a crash of glass, and another loud shout covered the music playing from the poor bard on the lute in the corner. A bottle flew past her head and out into the street. It was as good of a place to find a crew as any. 

She stepped inside, took in a deep breath, and immediately made a face at the smell of the place, nearly doubled over. How it smelt a million times worse inside the building, just over the threshold of the doorway, she wasn’t entirely sure, but the smell was pungent. Vaggie took a step in after and placed a hand on her back, giving a warm half smile, “You okay?” She asked.

Charlie nodded, forced a smile as she attempted to breathe as little as possible while inside the tavern, and stood straight again. She adjusted the hat on her head and cleared her throat. “Right, should we split up again? That sorta worked yesterday. We at least got people to talk with us-”

“Absolutely no more splitting up in places like these. Did you forget how yesterday ended?” Vaggie interrupted as she led the others toward the bar. Best to get a drink before they start harassing the customers of the establishment. She was hoping they wouldn’t get kicked out, again, like they had been from every other tavern in the small fishing village. Vaggie was honestly surprised there were so many, and that they didn’t talk amongst one another and just had her and Charlie's faces plastered outside yet with a DO NOT SERVE written on top of the paper.

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad! The guy seemed like he genuinely wanted to join!” Charlie sighed, the optimism still shining through. This had to work, they needed a crew willing to go on this journey with them. Surely there’d be people who wanted to. 

Vaggie laughed at that and shook her head as she handed a mug of ale over to the blonde and placed a few silver pieces down on the bartop for the barkeep. She sipped the liquid, it was a poor attempt at ale, but it’d do the intended purpose of getting one drunk. “I keep telling you, the promise of treasure is much more enticing than just the promise of adventure.”

Charlie looked into the mug, spun the contents of it around slightly, and sipped it. She gagged at the taste and the mug was placed down on the bar as she shook her head. “But I don’t know if there will be treasure. It’s- We’re- I don’t want to lie!”

“It’s not lying per se, it's avoiding the unknown truth! There could be treasure.” She pointed out as she let a smile on her face at the other's reaction to the taste of the drink, “Besides, who knows how long it’ll actually take to find it? There’s bound to be some sort of gain between now and then.”

“Well, I guess that’s true.” Charlie huffed once. Then she felt a pat on her shoulder that caused her to look up at the other woman and she smiled, nodding once. “Okay, I guess we’ll try it that way… and if we don’t find any treasure along the way, it’s not like they’re not gonna get paid. I do want it to be worth their efforts.”

Vaggie gave another pat to the other's shoulder and nodded, downing the rest of her glass and grabbing onto the full one that had been placed down, replacing it with the now empty mug. “Right, well, if we don’t find anyone in this fishing town, there’s another one three days down the coast. After that, we’ll have to turn around and head north and try there.”

Charlie looked over at the patrons of the tavern, eyes scouring to try and find someone, anyone who she might get to join their crew. While she and Vaggie could sail the ship up and down the coastline easily, as long as the weather permitted, anything out on the open ocean needed a full crew. Even if the person didn’t know how to sail, they could teach them. Just extra hands.

“Or we could always tell them what it is you’re actually looking for.” Vaggie offered and that earned her a gentle hit against her arm, causing some of the ale to splash out of the mug and onto the wooden floor below, adding to the already sticky layer.

Charlie leaned back against the bar and ran both hands over her face. “I’m pretty sure that would mean fewer people would want to join our crew Vaggie! We can’t just tell them that we’re searching for the Shadow ship! Most people think that it’s just a myth and those who don’t are terrified of it.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a myth. Your dad went missing years ago searching for it?” The mug of ale was placed down and instead, Vaggie grabbed onto Charlie's hands and pulled them from the blonde's face, squeezing them. “And you say you’re certain he’s still out there somewhere. Some people just want to be known as the person to find it. Some might believe the myth of whoever finds the Shadow ship becomes the captain of the Shadow itself.. That’s plenty enough to entice some people.”

Charlie stared into Vaggies eye as she took in a deep breath to help ground herself, squeezing both of the other woman's hands. She opened her mouth to say something but a different voice cut her off. 

“I do apologize but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation just now.” A tall man stood in front of the two women, and Charlie couldn’t remember seeing him inside the tavern or how he approached without either one of them noticing. “But, the topic of the Shadow ship has been an interest of mine for quite some time.”

The man was well dressed, especially for the place they all stood in. Vaggie was immediately suspicious of him, her hands let go of Charlie and one rested on the hilt of her sword, lax but ready to react in an instant if needed. The ears on top of his head flicked once, almost in response to her actions, which caused her to stand straighter as well. 

Charlie, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice either action and she stood up off the bar with a newfound excitement in her eyes. “Yes! We’ve been trying to get a crew together to go after it, find it!”

As Vaggie stared at and studied the man in front of them, the more she began to recognize him. She placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder gently to try and lead her back and away, to get her to leave the tavern entirely if possible, as her other hand now tightened on the hilt of her sword. Charlie didn’t take the hint and instead took a step forward, putting her own hand out for the man to shake. “I’m Charlie, this is Vaggie, my sailing master and first mate!”

“Alastor, a pleasure to meet the both of you.” He took Charlie's hand into his own, brought it up to his lips, and pressed a polite kiss to her knuckles.

Charlie smiled at the action and once her hand was released, she grabbed onto Vaggies, pulling it away from the hilt of her sword. Alastor kept his gaze at both their faces, both hands returning to the top of the cane as he nodded and spoke up once more. “If you have the space for three, I have two…friends… that would be joining me if you would have us.”

“Yes! Of course, we do!” The blonde said immediately, much to Vaggies dismay. 

Alastors smile widened, “Brilliant! I promise that all of us will be a great deal of help on the ship, Niffty will ensure no rodents or vermin of the like survive past the first day of sailing, and Husker is a rather fine bartender and is a rather grand navigator.”

“Charlie I really think-” Vaggie started but was interrupted by the blonde.

“Okay! We were planning on leaving in two days. Tomorrow I can give you a tour of the ship, we can get all of your stuff moved onto the ship and figure out a real plan on where we’ll be heading next!” 

Alastor nodded as he bowed slightly. “We’ll meet tomorrow then, at noon?” He suggested. 

Charlie nodded. “Noon is perfect.”

With just as quickly and silently as the tall man had arrived, he left without another word. Vaggie let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding the entire time and grabbed onto both of Charlie's arms, turning the blonde to face her. Charlie’s lips turned upwards into a wide smile, she jumped up and down a few times as she grabbed onto Vaggies shoulders to try and keep herself from freaking out too much. “Someone actually wanted to join us!”

Vaggie watched her jump. She didn’t want to ruin the excitement that the blonde held and didn’t want to cause the other to worry but she was concerned about the new crew members that Charlie had just hired on.

“You do know who that was, right Charlie?” She asked.

That caused Charlie to have a look of confusion cross her face and she shook her head. “No? Who was that?”

“That was Alastor Altruist, one of the most feared Pirate Lords.” Vaggies voice lowered to a whisper, careful not to let anyone around them hear her words.

It was like the air was ripped from the building and like everything had gone silent. “Oh.”

꒷꒦︶꒦꒷✧꒷꒦︶꒦꒷

The sun shined down and waves gently crashed against the ship's hull. Despite the nice weather and clear skies, the air was thick with nervousness and anxiety. Charlie couldn’t exactly go back on her invitation to the pirate lord Alastor onto her ship, on the adventure. They needed to help, and if he knew as much as he said he knew about the Shadow ship, then his help would greatly improve their chances of actually finding it. Vaggie had promised that if he even seemed like he had any ulterior motives she’d kill him, that was the only way he’d be allowed on the ship, so Charlie agreed to it.

The fishing village had long since started its day, a new ship had arrived with different supplies and trading goods and was already being filled with new cargo to be traded with wherever it made port next. Fishermen had been out and back twice already in search, hauling back different quantities of fish with varying qualities. 

Charlie paced back and forth on the ship, her hat on top of her head and she took in a few breaths. It was going to be fine. Alastor the pirate lord hadn’t been heard from in years, everyone had assumed he had died, his ship sunk, and that was the end of it. Yet there he had been, asking for a spot on her ship. This meant that he was missing his ship somehow, so something must’ve happened. Was he going to try and steal her ship? Once they were out on the open sea, was he going to cause a mutiny, throw her and Vaggie overboard? He hadn’t given that impression but she had been just excited that anyone was interested in joining.

That was why she was always so thankful that Vaggie was by her side. Without her, Charlie was certain she would’ve gotten into infinitely more trouble and misunderstandings that she wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to get out of. As she thought of the conversation from last night, she now could see that Vaggie had tried doing the same there as well but Charlie hadn’t listened or paid any attention to it. Now they needed to deal with the subsequent outcome, whether that be good or bad.

Focusing on the good, Alastar truly was interested in the Ship as well, and truly just wanted to help her find it. He might not understand that the only reason she was after the ship was because of her father, but still, he had offered not only his help but the help of two more people as well. He was allowed to have his own interests in the Ship, two people with a common interest could get a lot done.

Now with the man being not only just a pirate but a pirate lord could hold problems on its own. Especially if they ran into the Royal Navy. Her father hadn’t been the Crown's most favorite person, though he never told her why, and he had always been on the run from the Royal Navy himself until he settled down on the small island she grew up on. Luckily for her, no one knew who she was, just someone interested in the ocean myths, searching for her father. No ties to the navy or pirates alike, or at least, she didn’t have ties. With Alastor joining her crew, ties were created. Perhaps if they ran into the royal navy she could convince them that he had turned over a new leaf, that he was no longer a pirate. Wishful thinking.

If they ran into other pirates, Alastors' reputation might be helpful. He would know what to say to make them not attack or to leave them alone. Or they might see him and just decide not to mess with them entirely, which would be the preferred option. The actual preferred option would be not running into any pirates and being left alone entirely while on the adventure but she doubted that would be the case. They needed to be prepared for any and all scenarios possible. 

Which was why Vaggie had insisted on having weapons on board, for protection against pirates and the navy alike, just in case she had said. Cannons, guns, gunpowder, swords, and knives alike. Charlie had been practicing her sword fighting with Vaggie every morning for an hour before they went on with their day and she was getting pretty good if she had been honest with herself. That or Vaggie was going easy on her.

“Heya toots!” A voice called out over the crash of waves that caught Charlie out of her thoughts and she stopped pacing. She looked out to the docks and noticed someone she didn’t recognize standing there waiting to be granted access to the ship. “Heard you were lookin for some hands, lucky for you I got four and I’m really good at usin ‘em!”

Charlie blinked a few times and watched as the man held up his four arms and flashed a toothy grin, the sun glinting off a golden tooth. She immediately smiled back and waved at him to board the ship. “You want to join my crew?”

“Been lookin for a way out of this small village for a while!” He walked up the board onto the deck and stuck one of his arms out for the blonde to shake. “I’m Angel, nice to meetcha!”

“Charlie! Nice to meet you!” She shook his hand with enthusiasm and nodded. “You’re just in time, we’re leaving tomorrow morning!”

“Sooner the better,” Angel said as he looked around the ship, his lower set of arms and hands rested on his hips. As he looked out over the small fishing village, he cleared his throat and pointed down at the docks, “Know them?”

Charlie looked back down at the docks and smiled brighter as she saw Alastor standing there with a catman standing on his left and a much smaller woman with one eye standing on his right. “Alastor! Welcome aboard!”

Alastor walked up onto the ship first followed by the two others. None of them seemed to be carrying any bags or personal items at all and Charlie wondered if Alastor had changed his mind. Showing up might have been just a polite thing to do, to tell her in person that he had changed his mind and the three of them wouldn’t be joining. It wouldn’t be the best news but Vaggie would feel relief and at least they had one person joining it seemed.

She felt nervous, more so now that there was a practical stranger standing on the deck as well. Would Angel recognize Alastor? Would he care that Alastor was a pirate? Would he change his mind about joining? “Charlie, this is Husker and Niffty, the friends I was telling you about last night.” Alastor introduced them. 

Niffty smiled brightly up at Charlie and stepped forward, studying her closely before her eyes began scouring the deck for any movement. Husk grunted once as he lifted a bottle up to his lips, taking a sip from it as he fluffed his wings out a bit. It was clear he wasn’t a fan of the bright sunny day as one of his wings extended slightly to try and block the sun rays from his face. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both!” She said before stepping to the side and allowing more access onto the deck of the ship. She motioned for Angel to take a step forward and gave an encouraging smile. “This is Angel, he said he’s interested in joining us as well! Angel, this is Alastor, Niffty, and Husker!”

Alastor looked over at the stranger, the smile never leaving his face as he looked the other over once before nodding. “Pleasure to meet you as well, I am happy to hear that this little crew is growing. By the end of the week the ship will be filled to the brim I am sure. Shall we begin the tour of the ship?”

[xalygatorx]

"Loser, Baby" - [an Unbound crack!fic]

Summary: Astarion is on a half-hearted prowl through Baldur’s Gate for someone to take back to his “boss.” An emotional interaction with a bard just done with her set at the Blushing Mermaid gives him a new perspective.

Warnings: contains Unbound main story spoilers; language; brief mentions of Astarion’s sexual abuse; a goofy comfort/hurt; born of Hazbin Hotel brainrot; Áine is one helluva bard; they’re not together in this one; they’re also both a little drunk; Astarion almost gets drugged (mirrors the show scene); this is going to be caricature-ish but cute; Astarion POV; he's a bit OOC, at least for how I usually write him; a modernized Faerûn AU; lightly proofread

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This obviously isn’t part of the main Unbound story. But I had feelings and needed them out.

I highly recommend checking out the song and the linked scene if you're not already familiar. (Or if you are. It's a banger regardless.)

S/O to @velcyrptr for sending me "Poison" from Hazbin when it reminded them of Astarion. :') That eventually led to this, for better or for worse.

Inspiration: “Loser, Baby” on Spotify; show scene on YouTube

Even when the phone in his pocket wasn’t buzzing off the hook with text after call after voicemail after text, he could feel it. Quick, chirpy phantom shakes all from the monster who owned him. The sire who’d made him. The man who used him.

Astarion adjusted in his seat in the Blushing Mermaid to displace the device in his pocket, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. Even when he didn’t have the infernal thing pressed between his pants and his thigh, that sensation would still creep up. If he was lucky, it was only that one.

“We borin’ ya, sweetheart?”

That jarred him back to his mission. As if he could forget it in the first place. It was the same one every night, after all. Be Cazador’s little takeout delivery boy and bring him something scrumptious to eat, all costs dashed. Astarion speculatively scraped a glance over the men still lingering with him in the booth—none of these would win him points from that bastard, these were all late-night leftover trash. Unfortunately for him, the handful of potential targets he’d eyed on arrival were long gone. He was off his game tonight.

Blood was blood though and he’d suffer worse if he showed up empty-handed. “Impossible, handsome,” he cooed, plucking his empty martini glass off the table. “I’m just a li’l low on juice… Mind getting me a refill, Daddy?” 

He already had the orc next to him sorted for kinks, it was just a matter of talking him off into the dark and doing what was needed to get him back to his master before sun-up. Astarion was already dreading the trek back—it was a bit of a walk from here to the castle and he was still a bit battered from the night before. Not that there were any better alternatives.

Astarion’s butter-smooth voice did just as it always had and teased a hungry smirk from the orc that snatched up his empty glass. Under the table, the orc’s hand that was pressed against Astarion’s thigh swept up and palmed just as hungrily at his groin. Astarion swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat, wrenching his tense features into a coy grin up at the man’s retreating figure.    

It figured he would only get a moment of reprieve before he was sandwiched back in by the same orc returning with his drink. The night’s entertainment had wrapped up about twenty minutes ago and pickings were slim for patrons still lingering inside the tavern. 

“There you go, sugar,” the orc sneered, pressing the glass into Astarion’s hand. It was a little much when he could’ve just set it on the table, Astarion thought, but he supposed maybe it was a hint that the guy wanted to get out of there soon. He supposed he was just putting off the inevitable at this point, so he might as well—

“Honey, he dosed your drink.”

Astarion paused in raising the rosy pink martini to his lips, glancing up toward the new but oddly familiar voice that had risen above the men’s grumbling, gritty murmurs. A gorgeous drow—no, half-drow—woman stood near the table, her chestnut stare slanted down at him and the glass in his hand with some measure of concern. Why hadn’t he noticed her in all the scoping out he’d done throughout the place tonight?

An instrument case almost as big as she was hung strapped across her body, which was when he realized where he’d recognized her voice from. She’d been performing all night. Apparently, the bard now lingering like a self-ordained guardian angel hadn’t ducked out after her set was done.

The table shook as the orc stood up to tower over her. Something lurched in Astarion’s chest at the idea that she was about to get hurt on his behalf. No, wait, he hadn’t asked her to. This was her fault for interfering! So why did he feel the urge to run interference? 

The orc glared down at her, dwarfing her without even trying. “The fuck did you just say, bitch?”

The bard glanced up at him and, to Astarion’s inexplicable horror, she just sniffed in the orc’s direction. Gods, she was going to get herself killed! 

Suddenly a smirk found its way to her lips. “I said—,” she began before snatching the martini from Astarion’s hand and dumping it up into the orc’s dumbly slack jaw, catching that hanging mandible with the heel of her other hand and shoving it upward to force him to swallow, “Honey, you dosed your drink.”

Whatever it was that he’d put in that martini was potent, Astarion realized as the orc choked initially, a gob of slobber flopping onto the bard’s hand, and then immediately went to the floor. His friends lurched out of the other side of the booth, one turning tail before they could get banned for whatever fight was about to break out and the other going to see if his now-convulsing comrade was going to survive his own concoction. 

Astarion’s body shot back to life when he felt a hand wrap around his elbow and tug him out of the booth. Wide red eyes shot up to the bard the hand belonged to, something brewing in his chest when he realized he’d been saved but lost his quarry in the process. Anger and gratitude. Terror and relief. They were outside by the time he’d made enough sense of it to say anything.

Down on the city street curb adjacent to the tavern, Astarion violently shoved her hand from his arm. “What the fuck?!” he shouted at her, too confused to even try to swing this in favor of still having prey to take back to Cazador. His guard was down. She’d saved him, but why? What did she want with him?

The bard blinked at her wide doe-eyes at him, her own confusion manifesting. “...What? What the fuck, me?” she asked, pointing at herself as she tried to read his reaction. “I just saved your ass back there, that’s what!”

“I didn’t ask you to!” Astarion retorted, the outpour of emotions not entirely her fault. So much he’d crushed down and shelved was bubbling up. He was wowed by his own brokenness in that moment—that kindness was more triggering to him than being beaten and violated now. “You think I’m stupid? That I don’t know when someone drugs my drink?!”

Her jaw dropped slightly. “What, were you just going to drink it anyway?!” she demanded, shocked and on the edge of a hysterical laugh. “You just let people drug you?!”

“It’s not like I ask for it!” Astarion shouted, his jaw clenching when tears beaded at the corners of his eyes. No matter what he did to try and pull his proverbial mask back up with all his years of prowess, nothing was working now. He was crumbling under the weight of someone looking at him and seeing him. She had no idea what he’d been through. What he would go through the moment he got back. “And you have no right to judge me!”

Astarion rounded on his heel and started to stalk away from her, running his hands against his eyes. The phantom vibrations from his phone were back and tracing the black fabric of his skinny jeans. Or maybe his phone actually was blowing up this time. He couldn’t bring himself to check.

“I’m not judging you, but gods! You’ve been here the last four times I’ve performed and I’ve seen the same bullshit every time, sweetie!”

His eyes narrowed and a snarl crept up his throat. “Stalking much?” he barked over his shoulder.

The bard laughed. “You’re hard to miss, I’ll give you that,” she said, keeping pace a short distance behind him. Why was she following him? “Now are you good? You’re not too drunk to find your way home, are you?”

“Oh fuck off,” Astarion snapped. “You just gonna tail me all night and treat me like a fuckin’ kid?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t treat you like a fuckin’ kid if you seemed to give a shit about yourself.” That made Astarion’s spine go ramrod-straight with indignance. But she wasn’t done. “Just cut the act, you know y—”

“IT’S NOT AN ACT!”

Astarion had whirled on her and stopped in his tracks, his lips curled in a scowl and the tears that had formerly been beading now full-on streaks down his face. The bard stopped too, her eyes widening when she took in his expression and the way his voice cracked. 

The dam was broken and Astarion kept talking, filling the space between him and this somehow consequential stranger. “It’s who I need to be. And this?” He gestured a wide arm toward the neon-lined city street made more luminescent by remnants of the night’s rainfall. “This is my escape! Where I can forget about it all and how much I hate…” 

His voice cracked again, realizing what he was going to say halfway through saying it with brutal honesty. “...everything. A place where I can get drunk and not think about how much it all hurts. And maybe if I can ruin myself enough in the process, if I end up broken…” Astarion drew in a shuddering breath, hot tears pouring from his eyes as he slumped down to sit on the curb. “Maybe then I won’t be his favorite toy anymore. And…maybe he’ll let me go.”

Astarion could feel the bard’s eyes on him and it made him want to be sick right into the street with every other drunk’s sick from the night. He was just another spot of filth on the heart of Faerûn. If he didn’t remind himself, Cazador would. He always did. 

The vampire spawn waited to hear the bard’s retort, her receding footsteps when she gave up on trying to get to him, whatever it was that would come next. He didn’t expect her to sit down on the nasty bit of pavement with him. He cast his gaze away from her as she found a seat a few feet away from him, giving him space. The action that could’ve been seen as compassionate made him want to throttle her. 

She sighed. “I was a paladin once, you know.”

Well, that was unexpected. Astarion glanced her way and their eyes met. She smiled and gave him a small shrug. “Yeah, I know,” she said in response to his surprised expression, only reminding him yet again how unmasked he was in his current emotional state. “And, um… Well, I guess it was nice to have the power that came with it, but an oath like that ties you to some shithouse people. Whatever’s keeping you where you are… When you’re dealing in these sorts of things, the stakes are pretty high.”

She took a deep breath and sighed it out through her nose as if to clear her head, her gaze becoming distant as memories procured it. “So I know what it’s like to regret the choices made and…,” she paused, her brow scrunching as she measured her words. “...and to know you can’t take any of it back.”

Her gaze dropped to the pavement and so did Astarion’s as the silence stretched between them, only occasionally interrupted by the bustling of nightlife back up toward the tavern they’d left behind. Had his head not still been partially angled toward her, he may not have caught the moment she glanced at him again and smiled in his periphery. It was his only clue as to what might be coming as a few conjured piano notes peppered the air between them.

Astarion groaned inwardly. Fucking bards.

“So things look bad, and your back's against the wall,” she sang silkenly, her voice a balm to the musty city air. “Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and turned his face toward the ground as she rose back to her feet and began pacing a lazy circle around him. He studied the puddle around his shoes just to ignore her, the rippling surface devoid of any reflection as ever. He heard the door to the flophouse behind them open as someone stumbled out. 

Undeterred, the bard continued singing. “You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall,” he heard what sounded like an umbrella pop open behind him and he glanced back just in time to see her shielding him from the wayward flophouse patron’s spew. Her nose wrinkled as she shook the sick off and watched the patron stumble into the nearby alley. It was like the universe was buckling to being part of her little musical number. As if his night couldn’t get any worse. “Can't face the world sober and dope-less…”

The peppering of piano notes swirled around them, a faint glowing outline forming around her instrument case as she invoked her magic. For what? A pep talk? To make him “feel better”? As if that’d solve anything for him! Even if some part of his aching soul ached to hear anything close to a reassurance. Even shallow praise would do just fine.

Astarion glanced away, continuing to feign that he was ignoring her little performance for his dignity’s sake, assuming he had any left. “You've lost your way, you think your life is wrecked,” she crooned. Ugh, here it comes, Astarion thought, halfway between gearing up to tell her to shove it and accept whatever cliche inspiration she felt like giving him.

“Well, let me just say you're correct~!”

He was so shocked that his thoughts tumbled free of his lips this time as he glanced up to find the strange bard bending down to look at him face-to-face. “Wait, what?”

She gave him a cheeky smile, twirling her finger in the air like she was going to boop his nose. “You're a…,” and then she flicked him in it instead, “...loser, baby, a loser, goddamn baby! You're a fucked-up little whiny bitch—”

“Hey!”

Her eyes grew unexpectedly tender as she kept going. “You're a loser, just like me.”

Astarion scoffed. “Thanks, asshole.”

Still undeterred, the bard shimmied in a cutely choreographed strut, using the tattered umbrella she’d shielded him with as a baton like she was in some classical dance number. What the fuck was with this chick? “You're a screws-loose boozer, an only one-star reviews-er, you're a power-bottom at rock bottom!” She glanced over her shoulder and winked at him. “But you got company.”

“This supposed to make me feel better?” Astarion groused, refusing to even look slightly amused at her subversion of his expectations. He’d realized by this point that she wasn’t insulting him, but instead commiserating with him. Which he still found a bit insulting.

“There was a time I thought that no one could relate,” she sang with a silly grin on her face. Even so, her eyes still held some pain when she opened them. How was she just moseying through that? “To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged. But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight~! We're all livin' in the same shit sandwich.”

She’d settled herself down right next to him this time, glancing up at him expectantly with that pretty smile lingering on her lips. Astarion grumbled something about being a sucker for a pretty face and half-heartedly found himself singing back, wrapped in the glow of her magic. “I sold my soul to a psychopathic freak,” he said in a singsongy voice, gesturing toward the looming outline of the Szarr castle in the distance.

The bard’s mouth curved in a lopsided grin at his indulging her and hopped back up. From thin air, an image of a rolled projector screen appeared and she hooked her fingertip through the pull cord. “Ha-ha!” she laughed in time with the melody, pulling down the screen and gesturing to a portrait of Ketheric Thorm emblazoned on the inside. “And you think that makes you unique~? Get outta here, man!”

Before he could blink, she’d snapped the screen shut and the image had disappeared, that same hand now tugging him to his feet and into a dance. “We're both losers, baby! We're losers, it's okay to be a…?”

Experimentally, Astarion suggested, “Undead, dick-suckin' ho?”

The bard giggled. “Baby, that's fine by me.”

Her amusement was admittedly infectious and he finally sighed with a watery smile and shook his head as he vogued along to her song in his own way. “I'm a loser, honey, a schmoozer and a dummy,” he rolled his eyes as he allowed, “but at least I know I'm not alone!”

“You're a loser,” she sang, her eyes alight at his mood shifting and positively sparkling when he joined her on the next line. “Just like me!” Her excitement took the form of magically conjured neon signs mirroring the lyrics appearing around them as their own personal backdrops.

He had to admit there was something freeing to this sort of self-depreciation. It wasn’t the toxic, abusive angle he was used to, it just felt almost funny now, even if it wouldn’t at all later. For this singular moment, on this empty street with this pain-in-the-ass bard, nothing else existed. 

Astarion smirked as little magic raindrops mirroring the neon signs around them began to drop down and the bard popped the umbrella open again as if to shield them both from the conjured “downpour.” He slanted a teasing smile at her. “You're a loser, baby.”

She grinned back, shrugging in acceptance. “A loser, but just maybe if we,” she sang, tilting her head toward his as she scooted closer. Astarion chuckled and joined in again in agreement with what she’d not yet said, “Eat shit together, things will end up differently.”

With a wild twirl, she shot back to her feet and he followed her like they were attached at the hip, catching her in his arms for one more dance as she rounded them out. “It's time to lose your self-loathin',” she lilted, letting him lead their impromptu ballroom dance down the line of the dirty sidewalk. “Excuse yourself, let hope in, baby! Play your card, be who you are~!”

In unison, both a little breathless and laughing, they sang softly and just to each other, “A loser, just like me…” 

Astarion had sunk her into a dip at the end of their number, admiring her up close before he leaned back and let her up, not quite yet ready to let go of her hands if she was willing to let him keep them a moment longer. “I’m Astarion, by the way. What’s your name?”

The strange sort of bard gave him a warm smile that took the edge off the chilly night. “Áine.”

A/N: I'm sorry, Hazbin has ruined my life and consumed my thoughts. I'll be back to Unbound soon(ish).

[hismercytomyjustice]

Y'all, I am about to throw hands with Volo.

I spent...way too much time googling locations in Waterdeep and finally broke down and bought Volo's Waterdeep Enchiridion for the sake of my sanity.

Surely the "Visitor's Guide to the City of Splendors" would include helpful info like a list of taverns.

Surely.

NOPE. IT MOST CERTAINLY DOES NOT.

Yeah, it hints at a few and don't get me wrong, I'm hype to see the other info about Waterdeep because of two future chapters I wanna write that are gonna be set there.

BUT. I am sorely tempted to stop writing and go kick his ass in BG3 out of spite.

Alas, I must exercise self-control, BUT HE'S IN MY CAMP IN GAME AND HE BETTER HOPE I FORGIVE HIM BEFORE I LOG BACK IN.

Sidenote, I'm on my actual laptop instead of doing EVERYTHING ON MY PHONE LIKE A PSYCHOPATH and god it's so much easier and faster. I wrote that whole ass 8k Hazbin fic on my phone. I've written and edited a significant portion of THIS fic on my phone. All because it creates less hurdles for my executive function and helps trick my brain into accepting my writing doesn't have to be perfect (*gasp*) because phone writing is fake writing (don't tell my brain otherwise).

The most consistently I ever wrote in my life was when I worked as a bank teller and had a little notebook I'd whip out between customers. Having Google Docs on my phone is pretty damn close to that. I can be in the doc and typing happily away before my brain derails me with OCD spirals like "this is terrible, you should give up" or "why do you think anyone would ever want to read something like this" or "you're never going to finish this."

I spent literal YEARS convinced I was never going to write again because of said OCD spirals (definitely didn't realize that recently *borderline hysterical laughter*) and executive dysfunction. I cannot tell you how fucking nice it is to finally be writing regularly again and to have been at it for months now. I didn't think this would ever happen again. It makes me a little emotional.

But yeah, Volo your days are fucking numbered you Shakespeare-lookin'-ass-bitch.

(No ill will intended to the folks who actually wrote the book. I’m just being a deranged silly goose.)

[lady-of-the-upside-down]

Thinking about a hypothetical friendship between Hadestown!Orppheus and Alive!Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Context: The musical Hadestown is an adaptation of Orpheus and Eurydice set in the 1930s. The demon Alastor from Hazbin Hotel was a fictional New Orleans hunter and killer who died in 1933.

In this AU, I’m imagining it as that both the Underworld and Hell exist. The reason Hades bribes souls to go to the Underworld is because most souls now go to Hell(or Heaven).

Headcanons for their friendship:

- I can imagine they’ve been friends since childhood, being from the same school.

- The two sit next to each other at the back of the classroom, both quiet kids who don’t really pay attention to the teachers.

- The two basically have polar opposite divine gifts: Orpheus has the gift of divine music from the Greek Muses that makes the world feel alive, while Alastor has a dark shadow following him, influencing him to be a ruthless hunter, and later a killer.

- One time at elementary, Orpheus walks to the schoolyard only to see Alastor beside some severed worms, split into two. “Al, don’t do that! You’ll hurt them!”

- They would help the other with each other’s homework. Alastor getting help from Orpheus in more creative subjects while Orpheus getting help form Alastor in the more technical ones.

- Alastor grew up with the radio constantly on at home, which is why he speaks with a transatlantic accent despite never having been in a movie.

- Even if their life outlooks are at odds with each other, they remain friends. Alastor vows to spare Orpheus in exchange of this friendship.

- Alastor grew up to be a local radio host, while Orpheus became a performer at his Uncle Hermes’ tavern. The two found it amusing that they would up in some kind of performing career.

Might make a part 2 to this later on, and even fanart.

[phisaya]

theme songs for your muse.

STANDARD THEME - The Tavern - Minute Of Islands OST (sorry I couldn’t find it on youtube sadface)

BATTLE THEME - Limoncello Theme: Inscryption OST (He’s not taking you seriously)

BOSS BATTLE THEME - War Season - Lisa: The Painful OST (He’s taking you seriously)

EMOTION THEME - Guts - Susumu Hirasawa (I mean come on. IT WORKS. IT WORKS!!)

Tagged by: @arachn0philia​

Tagging: @nemxricultrix​, @diadxrling​, @avispatr​, @a-hazbin-spider​

[stagefullofentertainment]

Songs for Hazbin Hotel Characters (Playlist Series) PART 1

Starting a new series which I will try to update once in a while! Isn’t this exciting? Basically, the idea was to take various songs/music from different artists and those who were used in various pieces of media. Then I shall try to match the best ones to the beloved characters. Might be off but hey, we’re having fun!

Part one is supposed to be quite special, right? Well, what can be more special than an animated movie series that shaped a lot of people? Indeed, we’re talking about Shrek. Okay, 1 and 2 were the OG’s but third had some laughs and fourth was actually nice. So, I’ll be ranking Hazbin crew based on how much they would enjoy Shrek series, plus – a song that would be up to their alley.

ANGEL

This man would love Shrek series so much! You cannot prove otherwise! It would be right up his humor type – funny, yet sometimes suggestive. Guys, can you imagine him with Fairy Godmother’s red dress? Or rocking Prince Charming’s look? Actually, give me a sexy man – boy chauffeur Kyle! Well, at least can Angel be my fairy godmother? That would be fun. You know what, he’ll get two songs!

This is his morning routine song. Or when he needs to give someone a makeover.

This just screams to me about how cool Angel really is. Turf war must song!

Favourite character – Doris. A literal icon. Also, he would kin Snow White.

CHARLIE

Upon first time viewing Shrek series, she would find it so fun! In my humble opinion, she would quote or try to incorporate its life lessons into her “How to Get to Heaven” course. Charlie would happily rewatch it time and time again.

Is this song not about her journey to save a princess, I mean, to save sinners’ souls?

Favourite character – all of them! Just one? How about Donkey? He’s funny!

VAGGIE

The only person who saw Shrek in her live life. I feel like Vaggie would be chill about Shrek. Not a huge fan but still loves it. She would feel so nostalgic while watching the series. Vaggie would enjoy seeing others’ reactions while viewing the films – jokes, twists, music, everything! The only new movie would be “Puss in Boots: The Last wish” which would be incredibly endearing to her.

This song is just silly enough to be one of her favourites. Vaggie’s and Charlie’s new song!

Favourite character – Fiona. Fighter princess who takes no shit from anyone.

NIFFTY

She would not find Shrek in top of her favourites. I think she would like it only for the romance plot lines. Also, princesses and Far Far Away parts would make her really happy. Humor would be a hit or miss, except for some jokes. She would think that all the animals are really cute, especially Puss in Boots!

She would vibe to this song, I already feel it!

Favourite character – Prince Charming. She knows that he’s a jerk and everything but she’s gotta admit, that Charming makes her hotter than July.

HUSK

He would only watch Shrek for “the sake of the kids”. Shrek wouldn’t be his cup of tea, I believe. Although! Husk would love slapstick comedy. Also, all the “Poison Apple” tavern scenes and fighting segments.

His kin song, you have to agree.

Favourite character – Shrek. You would think that it is a basic answer but his actions are the most understandable to Husk. Loneliness besties.

ALASTOR

He would not like Shrek. Like, at all. Just not his taste. He promised to watch all 4 films to Charlie but nothing more – no shorts, no “Puss in Boots”. Alastor only enjoyed the second one for a little bit, mostly for the Fairy Godmother’s scheme.

If he must choose a song, let it be this one. Least annoying.

Favourite character – Fairy Godmother. The best villain and the best musical number.

That’s my takes and the end of part 1. Hope you had fun reading it and revisited some nostalgic songs! I for sure will be holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night!

[katyakurae]

Are you ready to visit the Hazbin Tavern? A DnD AU

Random facts under the cut~

Race: Aasimar, Lathander's son.

Class: Paladin, oathbreaker. In his free time, multiclasses to artificer.

Alignement: chaotic neutral.

Goal: Protect Charlie at all means... and doesn't let Alastor mess with his sanity. It's going... poorly

The same day he broke his oath, he also fell and lost his wings. It was the same day he married Lilith.

They had a relationship and lived together in Menzoberranzan for a while, but Lucifer couldn't stand drow's way of living and choose to leave with Charlie. Lilith, more focused on the Underdark politic's kinda allowed them to escape. They weren't exactly prisoners but... yknow, drows.

That makes two times he lost his home, he may have some trauma with that.

Even when his relationship with Lilith didn't end on bad terms, he did not wear his ring anymore.

But... he wears a ring. With a green detail. Who does this belong to?

Doesn't really like the Underdark races... neither the ones from the surface. But he has grown fond of Charlie's friends. One (that he also hates a lot) in particular.

Yes, he looks kinda decadent. Yes, he can smite every being in his way without batting an eye.

Alastor and him are trying to teach Charlie to control her magic. It's not working. They argue about it all the time. They argue about everything all the time. They could even argue while kissing (already happened, Charlie saw it.)

Previous character: Vaggie

Next character: Alastor

[vylad243]

Nine Fandom People to get to know!

Hi! Thank you to @murkycran for tagging me!

● Three ships you enjoy/like

I enjoy Prime Sonadow (Prime Sonic x Shadow), Stucky! (Steve x Bucky), and Wikierrorshipping (Lance x Cynthia)

● Three ships you enjoy from your current fandom(s)

I like Radiostatic, Huskerdust, and Charlie x Vaggie (I don't know their ship name)

● First ship you shipped

I do not know! Probably Sonic x Amy, though, because Sonic was what I grew up on. I played the shit out of it when I was a kid, but truthfully, I have no idea. Maybe Kai x Skylor from Ninjago?

● Last song you heard

Empire from Monster High Boo York, Boo York

● Favourite childhood book

Survivors! My sisters were all warrior cat girls, but I was more interested in dogs, so my mom and dad bought me the first Survivors book

● What are you currently reading

Way too much. Uhhhh I'm ready a fnaf fic called (Re)building the Future. But I'm also reading a handful of Hazbin fics

● Currently watching

Nothing, but like 30 mins ago, I was listening to some DND campaign horror stories by a YouTuber named Crispy's Tavern (first time watching them)

● Currently consuming

Cream Cheese icing... by the spoonful

● Currently craving

Cream Cheese icing, I guess? I'm not really craving anything, but no sane person would eat icing like that unless they're craving it. Chicken wraps would be pretty good right now. Or subway rice. Their rice is so good

@gwenbrightly @beesinaskirt @wolfer-rj @wildflowerwoodsworld @chiquitafresa @nightmarearian and anyone else because I don't really know who else to @ who hasn't been @-ed before :')

[iholli]

Drew my Hazbin oc a few days ago! She was made by a friend on Discord for a running cheese joke and it’s just stuck, I love her

[maribabyart]

Do you have any Demon Martha headcanons? How do you think her reunion with Mrs. Mayberry (The teacher who paid for her assassination) in hell would go?

 OK YES I HAVE HEADCANONS FOR THIS HERE WE GO --

MARTHA HEADCANONS <3

So, I’m gonna start with her before she died so I can fully get into why every part of her is the way she is as a demon.

Martha is light skinned Latina woman with family coming from Venezuela. Her mother has a much darker skin tone than her, but her father is far more light-skinned, where she gets her complexion from. While she was raised in America, her parents were immigrants. She was born at home, and she didn’t get a birth certificate until she was four, the year before she started schooling.

She has three older brothers. They were very rambunctious with Martha as a child, pulling pranks on her/with her, taking her hunting, etc.

She was raised out on a farm in the middle of a forested area in Kentucky. They raised cattle, sheep, chickens, and horses. Martha’s main job on the farm was to groom/ride horses and feed chickens.

She learned her sharp-shooter skills in a more intense version of something like 4H unique to her area. She was fantastic with a bow and arrow, and even better with her firearms.

Cannibalism was normalized in Martha’s life from a young age. She knew that it must be kept secret from the outside world, and that it wasn’t accepted. However, it wasn’t something she found to be horrid.

Her family -- and their close friends -- came from a long lineage of Satanic cultists that practiced cannibalism to purge any bit of, “soul” remaining in the corpses of their sacrifices. Due to this, Martha had evolved to be able to be immune to the ill side effects of cannibalism, along with the ability to not feel repulsed by the idea of eating human meat.

Her favorite part of the body growing up was the brain, and it still is to this day. She loves the frontal lobe slathered in spices and hot sauce.

She began her cultish killings at age fourteen, when she officially joined the cult of her family’s descent -- Compañerismo de la Fruta Prohibida (Fellowship of the Forbidden Fruit, a refrence to their following of Lucifer)

Martha didn’t love Raphael Peterson, or, “Ralphie”. She was married of to him at age sixteen, when she became a, “Woman” in the cult’s eyes. They were both meant to appear as an ideal couple so that people wouldn’t suspect them, as their parents before them have.

Ralph and Martha always saw each other as friends with benefits.

They moved to Dayton, Tennessee to start their family when they turned eighteen.

In Nashville, Martha started singing to music her husband played in Taverns. Think Dolly Parton style music. She sounded a lot like that.

Their first child was born when Martha was eighteen: Their daughter, Jolene Peterson. Two years later, they had their son, Beau Peterson.

Martha was always really involved with her kids’ school activities, and she was always volunteering to work events, and her kids were in every activity they could be.

She used her physical attractiveness to seduce and kill men.

While sex favorable, Martha is on the aspec -- greysexual (sexual pleasure is irrelevant to her, and she only engages in it to appease her partner generally. She only finds sexual attraction in people while in the act.) Because of this fact, Martha only has affairs for the sake of gaining trust to bring the men home so they can be killed and eaten.

When Martha was shot, the community villainized Mrs. Mayberry because the town darling, Martha Jane Nunez Robles-Peterson, would NEVER cheat, right? The situation was misread: Martha was just talking to Jarold Mayberry that night about t-ball-related things, right? He WAS the the little league captain for her 6-year-old-son’s league, wasn’t he?

Martha was gifted millions by the community, and people were insanely supportive of her. They wanted the sweet Martha they, “knew” to get better soon. They loved her so -- such a darling woman!

Her music became more well known, and soon, Martha was all over TV. Her big musical break came from when she auditioned for American Idol and made it. Her sob-story propelled her, and she eventually won.

Martha was a hero to everyone around her -- surviving a traumatic event that was uncalled for, while also being so damn chipper and kind.

Hell, did you guys see the background in one of those scenes?! Martha was canonly proclaimed a SAINT! People loved her that much.

She used the public trust to lure in more victims and never be suspected.

Martha was 28 when she died. Ralphie was 28 as well. Jolene was 10, and Beau was 8.

Ralphie managed to survive the explosion, albeit he was completely paralyzed, and the two children went to heaven. Ralphie repented during his last month alive, and confessed to his crimes. He was sent to heaven as well.

Martha and the children were declared to have died in a bear attack, as Compañerismo de la Fruta Prohibida covered up their true demise with ease.

People were heart broken -- Martha’s music was used in sad collages on Youtube, Tik Toks had Martha’s face in them for memorials.

No one ever realized her crimes.

Now! As a demon....

In hell, Martha picked up the alias Hero -- it’s what she was in life, right? I’ll be calling her Hero from now on.

Hero is both different and similar to how she was when she was alive. She’s still the got her kind-hearted, southern mama vibe going for her: She tends to be able to fit into any demonic crowd well, either by attractiveness or by sheer, overwhelming allure -- she’s a very magnetic personality.

As far as powers go, Hero’s are mostly related to firearms. She’s acquired these powers through deal making and soul dealing, as most demons do. Her charming aura very quickly lure people into thinking she’s naive or really just being honest with them.

Her nails can peel back to allow her to shoot from, “finger guns”. Each finger is a different gun, besides her middle and index fingers. They are both shotguns. Together, they make a double barrel shotgun.

When in full demonic form, Hero’s bandages become sentient. They peel away from her wound, revealing a minigun like weapon in the hole in her head. This can rapid fire while the bandages can grab onto things or hoist Hero up. She can make this last for five minutes -- ten at the longest -- before she gives out to sheer exhaustion and needs to eat demon meat to replenish herself.

Within her first week in hell, she was known to be powerful. Not quite an overlord, but powerful enough to hang around overlords. 

She hit overlord status three months later, during the terf war seen in Hazbin Hotel’s pilot: She took several areas of land, and was seen to have several lesser demons flocking to be on her good side.

Hero used her land to build up a bar and grill that serves strictly demon meat and blood, where demons can play music and dance. It’s like a fucked up country dinner. It’s an insanely popular addition to Cannibal Colony, where she lives.

The place is called La Cocina de la Calle Kuru (The Kuru Street Kitchen)

Hero REALLY wants to get her hands on exterminator tools, but she’s not really a fan of black market deals -- it’s too “trashy” for her.

Hero knows Alastor pretty well, as he’s came in for meat and to watch the music. They’ve had pretty decent conversations while she was on break, seeing as they were both influential  southern, cannibalistic serial killers. It’s a running gag between them where they jokingly talk about who was more iconic -- “I bet I took out more belles in a lifetime than you could in your entire afterlife!” “Well hon, at least I could eat the brains without gettin’ Kuru!”

She talks to Rosie a lot about business, and has met Niffty and Mimzy before. (Al hooked a bitch up with some friends lmao)

She REALLY likes Mimzy. She reminds her of Ralphie, and they became super fast friends. 

Vox and Hero have a confusing sort of friendship, as neither really wants to be seen with the other -- In his case, because she’s much lower on the overlord spectrum than him, and in her case, because she’s no stranger to Alastor and Vox’s hatred for one another. However, she often finds herself consoling Vox on sleepless nights after closing up the bar, trying to convince him that Valentino is NOT worth his time. Beyond that and him occasionally paying her back in tech at random hours of the morning, they don’t talk often.

Hero LOVES dancing! Like, a lot.

She’s seen Charlie’s ad for the Happy Hotel. Her and Mimzy watched it, and they both thought it was the stupidest damn thing they’d ever seen. However, Hero said she was happy Charlie got up there, because she was just, “Cute as a button, that lil’ sweatpea was!”

Hero’s best friends are Mimzy and an unnamed demon who specializes in black market, extermination tool selling (the one seen in in Addict -- Cherri Bomb’s former lover).

These two people, and these two people alone, can call her “Martha”

Hero cooks whenever she’s stressed. She also adores sewing and binging soap operas and reality shows on Voxflix.

Hero’s Instagram would be, “HeroicMelodies” in reference to her music career and name.

Hero gets hit on A LOT, and she despises it. She doesn’t need to seduce people anymore to get away with murder, and she doesn’t want to. She dresses the way she does because she LIKES that clothing. People can fuck off.

The reason Hero is white and pink is to show how innocent she looks. Her pitch-black eyes show her dark soul.

Hero sings in Spanish to herself when cleaning up.

Sometimes, Hero and Rosie spend holidays going around with ground demon meat to throw to the hell crows and other critters. They find it peaceful.

Hero, shockingly, holds no hatred for I.M.P., and commonly jokes about how the I.M.P.’s, “Did her a favor” by sending her somewhere she can actually be her. She has no idea who called for the hit, though. 

Hero finds Blitzo’s Instagram posts being poorly spelled to be, “Damn near precious”.

She thinks he’s a teenager, and probably would think it less adorable if she knew he was a grown man with a grown kid.

Hero doesn’t care about Mrs. Mayberry at all. Like, at all. She honestly assumes the woman is in heaven. She knew Mayberry wasn’t bad -- she probably wouldn’t care if she was in hell, though. Oh well. Sucks to suck, bitch.

Husk frequents La Cocina de la Calle Kuru to drink and engage in the gambling scene. Hero finds him trashy, but can’t say she hates him. She finds him funny as hell, and enjoys the business. Just not someone she’d personally hang out with.

[bad-hellaverse-ideas]

Hazbin Hotel but it’s a 1700s Tavern

[sirsharp-a]

OKAY SO  FOR  THE  HAZBIN  VERSE:

-- lyes are a subset, albeit an incredibly rare one  ( the reason I’m saying rare is not because i want my character to be ‘special’ or anything but because, in the future, I do wanna try and make lyes somewhat of an open specie so that people can make lye characters, kind of like how people make imp-sonas and whatever - as of now, i’d consider edgar the ‘only’ one knocking around )  of demons that populate Hell.  

-- one of their main powers is associated with one of their canon properties, that being that they are harbingers of misfortune.  The more powerful a lye is, the more havoc they can wreak.  A pretty powerless lye could cause minor problems like traffic jams and whatnot, while powerful ones could cause things like natural disasters and even death.

--  edgar has  CAPITALISED  on his abilities to some extent!  ever the savvy businessman, he’s sort of opened up shop for people to make deals with him, in which he asks for something and he will grant them an act of misfortune for a designated target in response.  i like to think he’s sort of like I.M.P in that he has access to the surface world  ( though i have yet to decide how yet, i know it’s plausible because even a few imps have access to the surface world because of their circumstances so yeah, it would be just as easy to come up with something plausible for edgar too--  if he even needs a reason, given the next point i’m about to mention-- )

--  edgar is an overlord!  his particular brand of power is to do with misfortune and chaotic energy.  he is NOT a harbinger of death exclusively but some do associate him with that.  i’m not going to enforce this on anybody in terms of ‘oh, your character would absolutely know edgar!’ but, in my canon at least, he’s relatively well-known and respected.

-- edgar is well-known in the alcohol business.  this is because in his canon, he a) originates from an agricultural utopia and b) runs a tavern.  i think it’s fair to keep the strahvern, given that edgar is millions of years old ( when combining his surface-world life with his life in Hell ) and has had time to do a lot of different things during his time down there.

--  thanks to help from @lilithianqueen, i’ve been able to kinda collect some thoughts and compile a bunch of things.  i’d be curious to know peoples’ opinions on this, because the last thing i want is for anybody to feel like i’m imposing on canon or anything.  it’s quite hard for me to settle on things because there isn’t much canon to adhere to at the moment.  but yeah, i wouldn’t want to step on any toes, and i won’t be flinging edgar into loudmouthed scenarios or anything like that!