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Voxtek shark week - day 2 - Shark tank !
Vox enjoying his newly built shark tank, courtesy of his moth husband ~
@voxteks-sharkweek
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Alastor, spotting Angel trying to break into the Vâs tower via window:
Alastor, appearing next to him via shadow: My, my, what are you doing my effeminate fellow?
Angel, pissed off at the Vees: Stealing Voxâs pet shark.
Alastor: Scandalous!
Alastor: Can I help?
#hazbin hotel#angel dust#hazbin hotel memes#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel incorrect quotes#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vark
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do u think this guy likes sharks
#my girlfriend asked me to draw this#idc if that version of vark might not exist anymore#stupid#hazbin redesign#hazbin hotel#hazbin art#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel fanart#hazbin vark#dj art
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Vark in Hazbin Hotel! pt2
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Hereâs more of our favorite Land Shark!
Hereâs pt1:
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Somebody was helpful at work today~
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Shoutout to @gnomowitch for this AMAZING commission of my OC, Vox, and Vark!!
Please go check out their account and support them because they make such good art!! I love this so much that I canât stop staring at it haha!! Thanks again so much!!
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#hazbin hotel#fanfic#fanfiction#hazbin hotel vox#vox x oc#vox the tv demon#vox x reader#art commisions#comission#hazbin hotel fanart#Hazbin hotel commission#vox roleplay#hazbin vark#hazbin hotel vark#vark#hazbin hotel oc#hazbinhotel#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#vox fanart#vox#the vees#hazbin art#staticwave
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Halloween art, boo!
I love the cartoon âCorpse Bride.â
(I misspelled the word "marriage")
And you can look at it!:
drawing from blueshuess
when I saw that someone also painted them in the image of the "Corpse bride", I almost squeaked
#my art#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanart#hazbin hotel valentino#hazbin hotel vox#valentino#vox#voxval#staticmoth#hazbin vark#vark
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So you downloaded the hottest dating app in hell, Vinder, but all you see is this weird fucking tv holding a shark thing??? You had to deal with enough assholes holding fish on earth too, WTF?!?
#hazbin hotel vark#vark#hazbin vark#Vox#vox hazbin#hazbin vox#voxteks sharkweek#ramble ramble ramble#my art#hazbin hotel#greens hellaverse art
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Mrrpp!
((He said intro))
Mrp mrrp!
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*Pfp and picture above made by the wonderful @littlecircus1*
((Translation: Welcome to my blog!))
Mrrp Mop mrrrrr!
((Hi, I'm mod. You can call me Sharky! I'll translate for our cutie patootie :D))
About Vark-
Hes a shark-thing
Nicknames are, Vark, V, Varky, baby shark, or thing ((He/him/they/them/thing))
He stands like 9 feet tall on his back legs
He can hop to different universes
Hes got a different form. Itâs when heâs mad.
He was created by Vox ((In this rp))
You can ask him questions about Voxtech or backstory
If he is angered he will call on a random Vox account to calm him down.
If Alastor is mentioned he will get mad and protective.
Try and hurt Vox and your asking for a death note.
About Mod
I own like- Four other blogs
Im minor. If that upsets you then sorry.
My nickname here is Sharky ((She/her but Idc what pronouns))
I'm free to answer any questions
Rules-
No hate y'all. It's not funny
Be respectful
No Nsfw
Other than that have fun!
MRRRRRRRRRRP!
Custom tags-
#Sharkie talks
((I talk))
#Mrop
((Vark talks/roleplays))
#Varks besties
((Vark rps with a partner))
Partners-
@penguinmaster9999
@traveling-monster
((Sam coming soon :3))
If you want to be a partner dm me!
Blogs I own: @vally-the-x-angel
@adeline-dust-rp
@that-one-birds-blog
@doveatheart
@vox-the-cg
NO ANONS YET :D
**Disclaimer: I do not own Vark. All credit goes to whoever created him.***
#hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox the tv demon#the vees#vox#hazbin hotel vark#hazbin vark#Vox's pet#intro post#introduction#blog intro#pinned intro#introductory post#pinned post#hey#hello#ask blog#rp#new rp#roleplay#hazbin rp#hazbin hotel rp#hazbin hotel roleplay#hazbin hotel askblog#hazbin hotel rp blog#vark the shark#vark the shark thing#Vark the Shark thing#varkthesharkthing
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Stress Toy đşđŚ (Vark get Vox stress toy to calm him down a bit, turns out he got the wrong one but Vox does show his appreciation for it) â¨enjoy Nsfw VoxValâ¨
Uncensored version is on my twitter if you wanna seeđ
https://x.com/hoot_hoot666?s=21
#hazbin hotel valentino#hazbin hotel vox#voxval#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanart#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel vees#staticmoth#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel vark#hazbin vark#vark
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Learning how to draw Varky sharky đŚ
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Heâs just a dog, nothing more, nothing less.
(Currently writing a radiostatic fan fic that includes how Vox got Vark, so Iâm going a bit bonkers about him)
#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin art#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox#radiostatic#young vox#old vox#box vox#alastor x vox#voxal#hazbin hotel vark#hazbin vark#the vees
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A little while back I promised Sad Anon I would draw some Vox and Vark being happy together in my AU ~
After the tower fell AU ~ can find a few more of the AU on my blog with that tag o7
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Vox headcanon time! đşđđŚ
Right so I've had this for a while so I might as well put this out there, cause idea is so cute to me I can't.
Okay so we all know Vark, right?
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Well here's an idea.
Well, meet Vark and Bark! (Vark obviously being the hammerhead and Bark being the other one)
I've always liked this idea of Vox being such a dog person when he was alive and the thought of him having 2 massive huskies he could cuddle when things got tough is sweet. Vox was a CEO, and instead of hiring bodyguards like a normal person he got guard dogs. 2 huskies that can rip apart someone's flesh with just a click of Vox's fingers and he loved them with all his heart.
When someone crossed him he'd just give the order, watch Vark and Bark claw and rip apart a body with a smile, gore and all and then be like "Do my babies want a treat, do my wil' babies wanna snack?" like nothing happened
Which is why when Vox died he spent his first week in hell just wondering if his sons were okay. Until a few years later when Vox is in an aquarium, 2 sharks slam up their noses against the glass to look at him and follow him pressed up against the glass wall. At first he's like 'What the fuck' but when he realises it's them and that his dogs ended up in hell with him he buys them. Not for sale? Don't care, he's the CEO of Voxtech, He'll buy the goddamn aquarium if he has to.
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And that's exactly what he did.
(PS. Alastor fucking hates Vox's baby voice, with a passion. He's like "stop talking like it can understand you it's an animal" and Vox gasps in response)
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox#hazbin hotel vark#hazbin vark#vark#Vark now has a brother#Can animals end up in hell? Cause I hope this is true#staticradio#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor
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To Sever a Loveless Bond
â˘â˘RadioDust Soulmate AUâ˘â˘
Part 21/?
First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter
Read on AO3
â˘â˘â˘
I know itâs been over a month but to make up for it this chapter is nearly 10k words and a whole lot of stuff happens. Like⌠a whole lot of stuff. Thank you again for sticking with me, yâall, you mean the world to me.
I headcanon Alastor as having had hEDS in life. Also, in our house we call Voxâs assistant Blink in fanfic because we need to call him something
CW for violence, non-consensual/forced nudity, various forms of torture, slut shaming, Vox being a creepy fuck, blood ritual stuff, electricity super fucking Alastor up in the short term
â˘â˘â˘
Alastor and pain were not, nor had they ever been, strangers to one another.
It was true, of course, that he quite enjoyed causing harm of both the physical and the emotional variety to those around him⌠and the psychological, when opportunity knocked. However, he knew pain much too intimately for such knowledge to come from base violence and chaos; it was a gift that life had begun to give him at a young age, his body plagued with a strange malady that neither his maman nor the few doctors they could afford were able to identify. It caused him pain most every moment of every day, and that, in turn, transformed the pain into something⌠else, something almost familiar and comfortable.
There even came a time that Alastor had convinced himself that pain was no longer a hindrance for him. Of course, there were different kinds of pain, but when one could never escape from it, embracing it became second nature.
The pain that jarred Alastor out of the nothingness of unconsciousness and into the wakeful dark was nothing like the pain of his life, nor like any other pain he had felt in the time since. An odd sort of tingling sensation lay across every inch of his skin, pervasive and just irritating enough to be impossible to ignore; it persisted until he tried to make any movement at all, at which point the fuzzy, staticky sensation spiked quite immediately into the pain of a thousand hot needles piercing through skin and muscle and deep into bone. His breath came in a sharp and ragged gasp as his eyes flew open, focusing on a neon-edged black abyss that stretched endlessly above him before he was forced to screw them shut again.
âYouâre getting soft, Alastor.â
That voice, always an unpleasant intruder in his everyday life when simply heard through a television speaker, was more biting than the hurt that wracked his body as it seemed to slice into his eardrums with its brusque, smug self-satisfaction. Alastor gritted his teeth, lip curling as he forced one eye open again, attempting to look around through the red lens of his monocle only to find that it had been taken off of him.
âNot very hospitable surroundings, old pal,â Alastor hissed with all the venomous sarcasm he could muster in the moment. âLosing your touch at playing host?â
âPerhaps not hospitable, but certainly appropriate.â Vox wasnât in his line of sight, and Alastor took a moment to try and figure out where the fuck, exactly, he was. He was lying flat on his back on a hard, unyielding surface, metal fastened about his wrists, his legs, and the middle of his abdomen. His clothing had been removed, and he could feel that something thin and sharp had been pushed into his flesh along most of his major muscle groups down his arms, legs, and abdomen, but he couldnât tell what it was. And his strength⌠it felt like every ounce of his control over his body and his power had been siphoned from him. âAre you feeling proud of yourself?â Vox asked.
âUsually,â Alastor said, keeping his voice flippant as his grin tightened. âAbout what, specifically?â
Alastor heard Voxâs footsteps before he saw him. The other overlord stepped up to the slab he was lashed down toâbolted to, reallyâand stared down at him with that⌠look that he got when he was (as Alastor had always put it back in the day) âthinking like a capitalistâ. It was something that was trying for cold and appraising, but was full of too much⌠greed? Hunger? Alastor didnât know what to call it, but whatever it was, there was too much for his gaze to truly be called dispassionate.
Vox was maintaining his calm, a fairly impressive feat these days. âYou actually allowed yourself to be baited. By Valentino,â the television overlord said with what sounded like every ounce of derision he possessed. âAnd you always fancied yourself above such base behavior.â
Alastor giggled as a pain stabbed his chest from the inside, like a knife shoving up through his sternum. âSays the one whoâs simply let Valentino use him as a meal ticket for the past forty years.â
âI wouldnât be laughing if I were you,â Vox snarled, a crack in that carefully-constructed image he so dutifully maintained. One of his hands hit the table beside Alastorâs head and he leaned forward to loom over the Radio Demon as Alastor turned his face away, still snickering. âYou arenât exactly in an advantageous position here, Alastor. Do you really want to push me right now?â
âOf course not,â Alastor said with a false contrition, his eyes cutting over to Vox while his face remained turned away. âThese newfangled flatscreens topple so easily. I would be absolutely mortified if I broke your face again.â
Fury passed across Voxâs screen for a moment⌠but only a moment. It calmed, quite suddenly, as he raised his other hand and extended his index finger. Alastor had only a moment to wonder what the actual fuck was happening before Vox touched one of the somethings buried in his arm.
âFUCK!!â Alastor screamed, the word torn from his lips unbidden, as a horrific jolt of unadulterated and pure agony shot through his arm, down into his fingers and up into his shoulder and neck. His hand spasmed, joints cracking and claws gouging the metal table, as his head snapped to nearly lean his ear against his shoulder. The next moment, the overwhelming sensation of active torture vanished, leaving behind a throbbing hurt and the occasional uncontrolled twitch of his fingers and shoulder.
Alastor gasped for breath against the feeling of a heavy weight on his chest, his smile widening as he focused on Voxâs face, studying him as though he were a mildly interesting test audience for a new pilot. âWhatâŚâ Alastorâs voice gave out, and his head twitched, before he managed to focus again. ��âŚthe fuck⌠did you doâŚ?â
Vox raised an eyebrow. âYouâre providing me with intensely useful metrics,â he said. âI had an idea for a new game show, but I hadnât had the chance to actually perform any meaningful tests to determine what, precisely, would be an appropriate range. After all, it has to be painful enough to be entertaining, but not so painful that the contestants will either pass out or explode too quickly.â
Alastor curled his lip. âI am not your test subject.â
âYou⌠are, actually.â Vox smiled at him, a smile that was nasty and cold and nothing like what he let most other people see. âListen. Alastor. You are the one who elected to enter into my domain. You nearly tore the damn building down. If I let you go, youâd just proceed to destroy everything you could get your hands on.â
âObviously,â Alastor hissed.
Vox ignored the interjection. âSo, clearly, I canât release you; itâs not in the companyâs best interest. And, if I have you here anyway, I may as well make use of you.â
The word brought the taste of bile into Alastorâs mouth, and he jerked against his bindings, but his body felt⌠weak. It was as though it didnât want to obey the commands of his brain. âI am going to free myself from this little contraption of yours, and the moment I do, I am going to fucking kill you.â
âIâm sure youâll try,â Vox allowed. âBut we both know that if you could kill me, you would have already done it.â He turned away, going back to whatever he had been doing out of Alastorâs line of sight. âTo answer your question, Iâve inserted silver-plated wires into your muscles. Silver is the most conductive metal, so it will be the most efficient in transferring electricity directly into your flesh. Iâm going to gauge your responses to different levels of electrical shock in different places. And you can try to break out all you like, but your nervous system and your brain arenât communicating right now, and probably wonât be until long after Iâm done here.â
Alastor found himself laughing, the sound high and weak as he struggled to breathe, as though the electric shock had flattened his lungs. âAnd you say Iâm sick.â
âYou are,â Vox said. âBut I really do have to ask. How, exactly, was it that Val got you to come here?â
Alastor snorted. âWhy so curious?â
âBecause Val is an idiot. But you were so very upset when you arrived.â Vox returned to the table and leaned his hip against it, folding his arms as he looked down at Alastor once more. âIâm sure it will interest you to know that Angel Dust is with him again.â
Alastor wasnât sure what, precisely, his face did when Vox said that. Whatever it was, though, it was clear that Vox wasnât expecting it. The television overlordâs eyes widened for a moment before narrowing, his teeth gritting visibly and his left eye spasming briefly. Alastor kept his own voice as steady as he could. âYou canât keep me here forever, Vox,â he said, his voice low. âWhen I am done with you, and when I am done with Valentino, there will not be enough of you left to even whimper in the radio chorus.â
âI canât believe youâre doing all ofâŚâ Voxâs screen glitched, and he shook it a little, clearing the image. âYouâre endangering yourself, debasing yourself, degrading yourself, and for what? A common whore?â
Alastorâs smile sharpened. âThe fact that you think heâs common shows how incomparably myopic you are, Vox.â
Years ago, Alastor had realized that he had never truly understood Voxâs mind or how it worked. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking at any given moment, and his motivations (particularly where Alastor himself was concerned) had always been downright unfathomable. That was why, Alastor supposed, he couldnât predict Voxâs movements when he suddenly held up another silver-plated wire in his clenched fist and slammed it down into Alastorâs arm, piercing straight through the little spider in the crook of his elbow.
Alastorâs scream morphed into laughter that sounded unhinged even to himself, punctuating continued shrieks of agony as electricity shuddered into his soulmate mark. Eventually, it didnât even sound like it was coming from his own mouth, his consciousness disconnecting and reconnecting as though trying to find a particularly weak station signal on an old radio.
You canât keep me here forever, Vox.
He knew that more he repeated it, the easier it would become to believe.
â˘â˘â˘
Angel stumbled across the bare tile floor and slammed into the wall across from the doorway, unable to catch himself to cushion the blow to his shoulder and the side of his head. His teeth ground together as his socked feet slowly slid across the cold ceramic, his body slipping down the wall in what felt like slow motion until he landed on his hip in an inelegant, uncomfortable slump.
He could still see the agony on Alastorâs face as he collapsed, hear the soft buzz of electricity as he twitched involuntarily, like the moment now seared into his memory had happened moments ago when, at this point, it had to have been more than four hours. When Valentino had dragged him from the studio and into the nearest room with a surface flat enough to pretend to be a bed, he had proceeded to treat Angel like a rag doll, beating him and touching him, taking out what seemed to be every frustration he had built up since the 70s on Angelâs defenseless flesh. He had once thought he could never feel more worthless and disgusting, but Valentino had proven him wrong. Angel hadnât even been aware of leaving the room, only vaguely registering that he was being dragged down the hallway before Valentino opened a nondescript door and threw him inside.
âI have given you everything you have.â
He tried not to let his pain show on his face. He really did. Even so, Angel could feel the corners of his eyes pinching with pain as he slowly opened them and looked up at Valentino, the overlord standing in the doorway, blocking it with his arms and the cape-like wings that twitched, threatening to open. Valentino would have almost looked dispassionate, were it not for the blood on his claws and spattering the front of his shirt.
Angelâs blood.
The same blood now smeared on the wall behind him, marking the path of his descent like the trail of a large and dying snail.
Angel didnât answer, and Valentino took his silence as response enough, baring his teeth and digging gouges in the doorframe. âYou were nothing before I found you,â he hissed. âNothing. And without me, you would always be nothing. After everything I have given you, this is how you repay me?â
Angel had never felt so tired in his entire life. Something deep in his mind told him that this, right here, was it. This was going to be the rest of his life. Valentino was stupid, sure, but he wasnât a complete idiot, and he must have grown his extra hands to make it easier to hold a grudge because the porn overlord had never and would never forgive what he determined to be a true betrayal. In Valentinoâs eyes, Angel had betrayed him; no amount of apologizing or flattery or cocksucking would ever be enough to lift him out of the hole he had dug himself into. It wouldnât be enough for Valentino to turn him out, of courseâno, Valentino would much rather make Angel Dustâs life an active Hell for the rest of eternityâbut it would be hanging over him for the rest of time, unless he threw himself on an exorcistâs spear during the next extermination.
Angelâs voice was flat in his own ears when he spoke. âFuck you, Val.â
Valentinoâs eye twitched behind his sunglasses. âYou will eat those words, Angel Dust,â he said. Angel thought he might leave then, but instead, he said, âHe will never love you.â
I know that.
Still, hearing it out loud, and from Valentino of all people, cut through Angelâs haze of numbness with a hot blade that seemed to slice into his core. He flinched, but he didnât say anything, and because Valentinoâs vision sucked, he didnât notice.
He also didnât stop.
âYouâre more brainless than I thought, amorcito,â Valentino said with a remarkable level of control. âTo believe that someone like you could be enough to sway the Radio Demon? Youâre gutter trash, a filthy crack whore who would sell out his own family for a dime bag. He wonât look twice at the best this shithole has to offer. What makes you think something like you could change that?â
It would have been easier to take if Valentino had been yelling, but he wasnât. No, it was that soft, mocking tone he took when he knew heâd found one of the flaws that made a crack in Angelâs psyche big enough for him to dig his claws into and pour his words in like poisonous smoke. Angel wanted to tell him to go fuck himself again, but he was so⌠tired.
Angel lowered his head. Valentino said something about not trusting him on his own while he checked on the status of the building, and then he left, closing the door behind him. Angel heard the click of the lock, the slow retreat of footsteps⌠and then nothing.
Slowly, Angel raised his head again, glancing around at where he had been left now that Valentino wasnât around to observe his mild curiosity and trepidation. It looked like one of the many, many storage rooms VoxTek had scattered around the building; very few of them had a dedicated purpose, instead serving as a place to put furniture or equipment when rooms on the floor were being cleaned or the tech was being updated or any number of other reasons you might want bulky items neatly stacked somewhere out of the way.
This particular storage room appeared to be currently in disuse, the only other thing inside (besides Angel himself) being a bare, stark white lightbulb set high in the ceiling with no visible switches to turn it off. Outside of that, he saw nothing but bare off-white walls and bare white tile, both only marred by Angelâs blood where he had smeared it along the wall and let it drip onto the floor. It was almost blinding, and Angel screwed his eyes shut, letting his head fall back with a soft thud of impact that shouldnât have hurt but sent pain shuddering all along his spine.
Now that he was alone, Angel felt nothing but pain. Cold seeped into his skin through his socks, the only clothing he had been allowedâand only because Valentino hadnât bothered to rip them offâand he shivered, wrapping his arms around his bent legs and burying his face in his knees. The mark on his leg pulsed softly, like a heartbeat, and he realized he was crying.
This is so fucking pathetic, he thought, even though he was well aware that berating himself wouldnât do shit for him or anyone else. All he wanted to do was get out of this room, find Alastor, and get both of them out of there. Heâd happily break Voxâs screen if that was what it took.
No matter how badly he wanted to do something, to do anything at all besides sit uselessly in a closet trying to stop crying, he knew it was useless because even if he did manage to find Alastor and free him and even actually stand up to Vox, Valentino could use that fucking chain to stop him. It would be trivial. It wouldnât help. It might even make Alastorâs situation worse.
Then again, youâre making a lot of assumptions. Alastor might not even still be here. How could Vox keep him? Why would he stay?
Why did he come here in the first place?
Angel sniffled, raising his head just enough to rub his eyes and listening to any sounds he could pick up coming from anywhere else in the building. Even though the power had come back on, it sounded like most of the systems werenât currently running; more than likely, a ton of fuses had blown, and it would probably take a while to fix them. Since he couldnât hear the omnipresent and overbearing electric hum that usually followed him whenever he was in this damn place, he was able to pick up the distant and muffled sound of voices somewhere below him, even more distant equipment banging and crashing as employees dealt with the aftermath of Alastorâs rampage, and a hollow sort of nothingness that came with the knowledge that he was alone and no one would be coming for him until Valentino decided to let him out.
Angelâs breath hitched in a sob and he cursed himself, pressing the heels of two hands into his eyes. âStop it,â he muttered to himself, but it did nothing to stem the burgeoning tide of tears burning as they leaked out through tightly-clamped eyelids and soaked his palms. A third hand balled into a fist and struck the wall behind him, a sensation that did nothing but increase his frustration and make him wish he had something considerably more fleshy to rip apart. âStupid,â he hissed, not even certain who he was saying it to anymore. He needed to think of something, but his mind was soâ
A cold hand wrapped around Angelâs wrist and he screamed, jerking away and striking out at the sudden intruder. His hand hit nothing but air until his knuckles collided with the wall in a sharp snap that made him gasp with pain, yanking it back and cradling it to his chest. Nothing else touched him.
âWhat the fuck?â Angel whispered, rubbing tears from his eyes to clear his vision. There was nothing else in the room, just him, that blinding lightbulb, his blood, and his shadow.
No. Not his shadow.
Angelâs eyes widened as his vision adjusted and he could actually tell what he was looking at. Alastorâs shadow was on the wall beside him, back a couple of feet as though giving him room. There was something almost apologetic in the way the dark, angular, contorted figure held its hands and the way its mouth twisted into the sort of deep and worried frown Alastorâs own face seemed incapable of wearing. As Angel lowered his arm, raised on instinct to guard his face, the shadow seemed to relax minutely and return to a shape more familiar but no less off-putting.
ââŚAlastorâŚâ Angel felt as though his heart was breaking at the same moment as the very sight of that shadow caused it to swell, two of his hands moving to the floor between his knees so he could lean forward and reach out a third hand. Angel rubbed his eyes with his fourth hand, sniffling wetly and clearing his throat. âHey, Big Guy, come back, itâs okay,â he said, the words coming out as a rough murmur.
The shadow tilted its head, in a sense, before drifting across the wall back towards Angel. It reached out towards him, then stopped, twitching sharply like it was in pain.
ââŚ!â Angel slid back over to the wall, placing his hands against the surface; as his fingers touched the blackness that formed the shadow, he felt that depthless cold again, the same that he felt every time Alastor had swept him into his own personal darkness. âWhatâs wrong?â he asked, pushing past the hurt of his ruined throat. âAre youâ is heââŚâ He wasnât sure how to ask what he meant.
The shadowâs twitching stilled, its form shifting in minute ways like it was actually catching its breath. Its face tilted down towards Angelâs hands before it moved its own arms, and as it did, Angel watched its shadowy fingers cascade across the backs of his own hands, like it was entwining their hands. The cold made him shiver, but he didnât move away; even if his fingers had gone numb, he would have stayed right where he was.
âIâm so sorry,â Angel murmured. He reached up a third hand, but didnât touch the wall. Instead, he watched his own shadow move closer until it touched Alastorâs. Instantly, as though it could feel his shadow hand like a real touch, it tilted into the touch and began practically nuzzling his shadow palm with the top of its head. Even though Angel wasnât touching the wall, he could have sworn he felt the ruffle of hair, the hard ridge of an antler, and even the soft fur of an ear against his palm and fingers. âI donât know what to do,â he confessed, watching as the shadow kept pressing its head against the silhouette of his hand. âVal locked me in here and wonât let me out until he comes back.â The shadowâs mouth twisted into a snarl, as if the very mention of Valentino had triggered some sort of rage within it. âAnd even if IâŚâ Angel shook his head, moving his fingers to make his shadow scritch the manifestationâs ear. ââŚhe wonât let me out of his sight. I know he wonât.â
At those words, Alastorâs shadow straightened, and as it removed its hands from Angelâs, it felt like he had suddenly dipped his fingers into hot water, so sudden was the return of warmth to his skin. The shadow hesitated at Angelâs surprised gasp, but it swept along the walls until it reached the door, and within moments, it had vanished through the crack at the base.
âWaitâŚ!â Angel called, but the shadow was out of sight before he even thought of getting the word out. Slowly deflating, Angel had less than a breath to wonder what he was going to do now when he heard a tiny click from the door. Angel gasped, backing away, but it didnât open. It didnât sound like anyone was out there at all, least of all Valentino and his unbridled rage.
When he heard nothing else, Angel slowly got to his feet, placing his hand on the handle and pressing down. With another little click, the door creaked open, and Angel carefully peered out into the dim hallway. There was no one else, not even the terrifying and comforting shape of Alastorâs shadow lurking in the dark. The rooms sounded completely empty, everyone who normally would have been on the floor doubtless busy with the destruction happening far below him.
Angel glanced back at the closet, then made his decision and closed it behind him, twisting the lock with his thumb. He then ran down the hall, heading for the stairwell that would take him to a back hall he could use to reach his dressing room. Valentino wouldnât check there first, second, or even third, and he had clothes in there that he could change into while he was thinking. He didnât have a lot of time and he needed to make the most of the little he did have.
Alastor was somewhere in the building, after all, and Angel wasnât going to leave him, soul contract be damned.
â˘â˘â˘
It had been a long time since the vibe (that was the right word, right?) of the hotel had felt this⌠off. The Hazbin Hotel had its problems, just like any business, and the residents sometimes had their problems, but the atmosphere wasnât usually this heavy. In fact, this was as bad as it had gotten since the evening after the last extermination.
Charlie had been yelled at for pacing, which meant she was now standing behind the front desk, watching everyone else. Niffty was still hanging out with Husk, who was doing his best to keep her occupied while they waited for any kind of news, silently validating Charlieâs own opinion that he really was a sweetheart under all of his grumpiness. Cherri was sitting with the guy apparently named Arackniss, who was also apparently Angel Dustâs brother, and Charlie would have eaten a whole pinecone for the chance to ask him just⌠so many questions if it wasnât for the fact that this was definitely not the time. Moxxie, Millie, and Loona were only a short distance from them; occasionally, it looked like the five of them were interacting a little, but for the most part were just waiting for news (and, in I.M.P.âs case, for their boss to come back).
Charlie knew how they felt. She was certain everything was fine and there was no question that contract things could take a long time, but she couldnât stand not knowing where Vaggie was. She pulled out her phone, but her girlfriend still hadnât sent her anything since the text saying Prince Stolas was looking the contract over, and that had been forever ago.
The wait was driving her insane, and Charlie was trying to come up with something that she could do to pass the time (that wouldnât end with Husk yelling at her to sit down) when the front door opened with an abrupt jerk.
Immediately, Charlie was alert, and she saw that awareness spread through the rest of the room as everyone diverted their attention to Vaggie and Blitzø as they came in, the imp shutting the door behind him. He pointed at Charlie as they approached, Charlie herself hopping over the desk and hurrying over to meet them halfway. âYour girlfriend flies like a fucking maniac,â Blitzø said, his voice winded.
Vaggie looked entirely unapologetic, and didnât even look at him as she pulled the folded contract from her pocket. Charlie clasped her hands together in front of her chest as everyone else began gathering, some at more of a distance than others. âSo? How did it go?â
âHe found a loophole,â Vaggie said, offering the contract out for Charlie to take, which she did almost on reflex. âWe just have to figure out how to get it to work.â
âHow toâ?â Charlie blinked. âWhat do you mean?â
âIâm not going to pretend I perfectly understood everything he said,â Vaggie said, glancing at Blitzø; he shrugged at her, and she turned back to Charlie. âBut in a nutshell, the contract is still active because Valentino keeps increasing the value of his soul. Because of the wording in the contract, since heâs lived here for six months, you now have the power to do that. If you change the value to less than heâs made for VoxTek, the contract will end. But I donât know how youâre supposed to do that.â
âHe didnât say?â Charlie asked.
Blitzø shook his head. âIf heâd known, he would have told us. Soul contracts arenât his bag, heâs not that kind of Goetia. Moxxie,â he added a little sharply.
Immediately, the other imp straightened. âSir?â
âYouâre good with contracts,â Blitzø said. âGo over it with the princess, see if you canât help her figure out how it works.â
âWhaâ um, yeah, sure.â Moxxie cast Blitzø an almost suspicious look, but broke away from Millie, crossing to Charlie. âIf thatâs okay with you?â
âOh, yeah, please,â Charlie said. âWe donât deal with a lot of contracts here, and when we doâ well. Alastor usually handles that,â she said a little sheepishly. It felt like every time something new cropped up this past month, she was faced with yet another thing she didnât know how to do. Shaking off the feeling, she said, âCome on, letâs go back here.â
She led Moxxie through a hallway back behind the front desk to the management office, a place that she herself rarely used; though it was officially her office, Alastor and Vaggie got a lot more use out of it than she did, tending to paperwork or restocking orders and other more tedious work while she handled the face-to-face, public relations sort of duties. Charlie hesitated, then sat at the chair behind the desk, inviting Moxxie to pull a chair over andâ âOh!â Charlie blinked. âI didnât hear you follow us.â
âThatâs my M.O.â Arackniss leaned against the closed door, one set of arms folded across his chest. He had the same expression on that heâd had ever since Charlie first saw him, one that she had a Heaven of a time trying to read. âI thought you could use someone whoâs got experience with Sinner contracts. Crimson donât usually work with those, right?â
Charlie didnât know what he meant, but apparently Moxxie did, because he stood up straighter. âHow do you know him?â he asked, his voice immediately guarded and almost hostile.
Arackniss raised an unimpressed eyebrow, holding up one hand. âCool your jets, kid,â he said. âI ainât had the dubious honor of his acquaintance, but he has⌠entered my sphere of awareness, you might say. He donât interest me, in any case.â
Moxxie was incredibly tense as he stood, watching Arackniss like he was thinking of⌠well, from what Charlie had learned after getting in on the ground level (as it were) in Hell society, it looked like Moxxie was thinking about shooting him. Instead, he said, âI didnât really deal with Sinners there, no. And the contracts we do make with Sinners these days are a lot different and donât have anything to do with souls.â
Arackniss walked over and placed two of his hands on the desk, looking at Charlie as she sat down in the office chair. âRight. So, letâs look at that contract and see exactly what it says.â
âAhâ right,â Charlie said, opening it up and smoothing over it with her hand to keep it flat against the desktop. The paper had that smooth, almost glass-like quality that paper tended to get when it was really aged; according to the date, it was more than fifty years old, by Sinner reckoning. She scanned over the words, looking for relevant passages, before her eyes lit on something likely. âAh, here we go, maybe,â she said. âIt says⌠The Contracteeââ she glanced at the beginning of the text ââwhich is Angel Dust, hereby agrees to relinquish ownership of their quintessence to the Aheydrun, which Iâm guessing is Valentino, for the purposes of manifest energy transference, defeasance of volition and percopacity and the supersedence thereof, and engagement in the vocation of indecorous dramatization in accordance with paragraph four until such time as the Contractee has repaid their determined value, the appreciation of which is subject to the Aheydrunâs discretion.â She hesitated, then looked up. âWhatâs an Aheydrun?â
Arackniss shrugged at her. Moxxie frowned. âItâs a Goetian word. It sounds archaic. I donât know it, but Iâm guessing thatâs what Vaggie and Blitzø were referring to.â
Charlie nodded. ââŚso⌠Angel signed his soul over to Valentino and gave him the promise to perform in any film asked of him, all of the power his soul acquired during the span of the contract, and signed over his free will? âŚwhy?â
âBecause he either didnât read it or didnât understand it,â Arackniss said. âDoubt most any Sinners would understand that shit, itâs intentionally worded to be confusing.â
Charlie nodded and looked down again. âThe Aheydrun can determine the value⌠and Vaggie said that I can do that now, because heâs lived here for six months?â
Moxxie shrugged. âIf thatâs what Prince Stolas said, itâs probably right.â
âOkay,â Charlie said. âHow, though?â
âThatâs the question. May I?â Arackniss asked, holding his hand out. Charlie nodded and passed it to him, and he took it, looking it over quickly. âSinner contracts ainât as ritualistic as Hellborn contracts. You know, we took the concept and⌠capitalized it, you might say. Assuminâ Valentino followed those rules, itâll be something kinda ritualistic, but more like a password of sorts.â He waved one hand, thinking, and Charlie was suddenly reminded of the way Angel flailed his arms when he was trying to process his thoughts. ââŚsay if, when Valentino first set the price, he took a piece of paper and drew some kinda symbol on it, then spoke the new value and burned the paper. From then on, heâd hafta draw the same symbol on the same kinda paper and burn it in the same kinda fire every time he reevaluates Tonyâs soul.â
Moxxie nodded. ââŚI guess that would explain why he doesnât do it very often.â He took the contract from Arackniss and started looking not at the text, but rather at the front, back, and sides of the paper itself. âI only observed Valentino twice, but thatâs all I need to know that heâs the kind to simplify things wherever possible.â
Charlie looked between them. ââŚblood?â she suggested.
Arackniss thought for a moment. ââŚit would be the most cliche, so⌠itâd make sense if he thoughtâa that first.â
âSinners really are obsessed with the idea of blood sacrifice,â Moxxie sighed. âBut itâs the easiest way to transfer energy, so that makes sense.â He tilted the contract again. âThe back of the paper is discolored, like something spilled on it. But he clearly takes good care of it. If the paper itself is enchanted, maybe he just cut himself open and bled on the contract itself.â
âWhat if weâre wrong?â Charlie asked with a frown.
âThen the contract will have blood on it. Thatâs about it.â
ââŚright. That makes sense.â She opened the drawer and pulled out the letter opener Alastor had insisted that they have for their office (which was funny because he always just opened envelopes with his claw anyway), a thin and curved knife with a simple dark wood handle and an ebony blade. Moxxie put the contract down, and Charlie placed the blade against her palm, lightly closing her fingers around it. She took a breath, andâ âWait, how much am I supposed to say his soul is worth?â
Moxxie and Arackniss exchanged looks. ââŚhow much has Angel Dust made in his career at VoxTek?â Moxxie asked. âLess than that.â
Charlie understoodâshe really did!âbut she felt her eyes misting up anyway. âBut that seems so mean,â she complained. âI donât think Angel could be bought with any amount of money, heâs priceless!â
Arackniss made a sound like he was surprised. âSweet as that is, Princess, itââ
âCharlie,â she interjected.
âOkay, sweet as that is, Charlie, him being considered priceless the problem weâre dealinâ with,â he said. âIt donât matter what you say. It ainât what you really think and itâs just breakinâ the contract. And if you lowball it, heâs gonna think itâs real fuckinâ funny.â
âYeah?â Charlie asked, then, ââŚyeah, thatâs⌠thatâs true. Okay.â She knew how sex jokes worked. Nodding once, she almost cut her hand open, before Arackniss held his hand out again. âOw! What?â Charlie asked, quickly moving her hand away as the knick on the side of her palm, which the knife split when she jumped, oozed a drop of blood that only fell on her pants because she moved back.
âIt has to be as close to what he did as possible,â Arackniss said. âThat means we need his⌠blood, or his DNA, or something, in addition to yours. If this is how he did it, he imbued it into the contract every time.â
Charlieâs nose wrinkled. âEw.â
Moxxie threw his hands up. âHow are we supposed to get that? We donât have time!â
Fighting past the thoughts that the phrase Valentinoâs DNA conjured in her head, Charlie sat up. âOh! Oh, wait, no, I know!â She scrambled up and ran to the door, opening it and calling out. âNiffty! Niffty, I need you!â
Both of the men behind her made confused mutters, but Charlie ignored them as Niffty came scampering down the hallway and slammed into Charlieâs legs. The little maid wrapped her arms around one of the princessâs calfs, staring up at her with an excited smile. âI love to be needed,â she said throatily.
Charlie chose to ignore that. âDo you want to help save Angel?â
Somehow, Nifftyâs eye grew wider. âYES.â
âThen I need a little bit of your collection,â Charlie said. âSpecifically, I need just a bit of the specimen you gathered at Consent.â
Niffty blinked once, twice, and then gasped before she started giggling. âBe right back!â she trilled, running off.
Charlie returned to her seat, Moxxie and Arackniss still staring at the door. âHer collection,â Moxxie echoed flatly. âDo I want to know what she collects?â
âBugs.â
ââŚuh-huh.â
Niffty was nothing if not efficient, running back into the office and hopping onto the desk to offer Charlie a little tuft of white and black fur. âIs this good?â
âItâs perfect. Itâs okay if I destroy it, right?â
âSure,â Niffty said. âItâs only a little bit of my sample, and besides, if nothing elseâŚâ Her face turned downright terrifying. âI can always get more.â
âThank you, Niffty,â Charlie said, thinking again how glad she was that she had so much time to adjust to the force of personality that was Niffty.
âUh-huh!â Still looking genuinely thrilled to have been helpful, Niffty hopped down, running out of the room again.
Arackniss watched her go. ââŚbugs,â he said, not looking away from the door. âSo then, whatâs that fur?â
âShe stole part of Valentinoâs ruff,â Charlie said. âItâs apparently part of his body.â
ââŚshe did that at Consent?â Arackniss asked, something that sounded almost like respect entering his voice. ââŚshe really is some woman, ainât she?â
âSheâs great,â Charlie said, squinting at the back of Aracknissâs head. She didnât have time to unpack that. Instead, she checked between them for any more interruptions, then sliced her palm open, gathering the blood in her hand and dropping the fur into it. She thought for a second, and then said, âI, Charlotte Morningstar, current Aheydrun of the Contractee named herein, have reassessed the value of the Contracteeâs soul and have determined its worth to be sixty-nine cents.â She tilted her hand, the blood trickling onto the contract before the fur tuft landed with a small, wet splat. There was a strange, undefinable sound, and then the blood began to vanish into the words of the contract themselves, even dragging the blood-soaked fur along with it. When she looked up, she noticed the other two staring at her. ââŚwhat?â
Moxxie blinked once, slowly. ââŚsixtyâŚâ He trailed off, shaking his head.
âI do understand sex jokes, yâknow, Iâm not exactly single, and I wasnât wasting his opportunity to get that printed on a shirt,â Charlie said. âSo⌠how do we know whether or not it worked?â
âIt looks like it did something, at least.â Arackniss took off his hat, then ran his hand back through the fur that made up his hair. âGuess weâll have to wait anâ see.â
âRight.â Charlie closed her hand around the cut in her palm, staring at the contract again. She was getting so tired of waiting. âCan you two do me a favor?â
The response was hesitant. âI⌠guessâŚ?â Moxxie frowned. âWill this get me beaten up?â
âNo!â Charlie said, hopping up. âNoooo no no no, itâll be fine. Just tell people I had to step out for a minute but Iâll be right back.â
âOkay,â Arackniss said. âYou didnât tell us where youâre goinâ, and we ainât gonna stop nobody who tries to follow you.â
âThatâs totally fair. Thank you,â Charlie said. âAnd⌠thank you, both of you. Seriously.â They both looked surprised, but she just grinned, offering them a wave before hurrying out of the office and down another hall to the service door.
Iâm so tired of waiting. Iâm not going to do that anymore. If you care about something, you fight for it, right? Right.
So thatâs what Iâll do.
â˘â˘â˘
It wasnât ideal, but it was better than nothing. Angel didnât keep a lot of normal clothing in his dressing room, but shorts and a tank top were better than nothing, and he pulled them on (skipping shoes, as they would be too loud) as he thought.
Vox had Alastor. Alastor was clearly in some kind of pain, judging by his shadowâs strange behavior and its disappearance. That meant Vox was probably doing something, and he wouldnât be doing something just anywhere; he had an image to maintain, after all, and the only way he would publicly torture the Radio Demon would be if he was doing it for a television show.
I know Vox better than that. He wants this to be private. Personal. Intimate, even.
Angel snuck back out of his dressing room and took off, heading for the wall and quickly scaling it to disappear into the vents. He didnât get to do this much, since he usually had eyes on him at all times, but one of the ways heâd become friends with Rocky over the years was finding opportunities to drop on the big lug out of nowhere. Angel had the building memorized, and he quickly traversed the vent system, heading up to the floor where the Vees kept their own private suites. He was familiar with Valentinoâs, but he had never been in Voxâs, and when he pivoted direction he got his very first glimpse of the place.
âOkay, justâ just stay here,â a voice said below Angel. God dammit. Voxâs assistant. Angel seriously couldnât stand the guy and his sycophantic bullshit, and he barely even remembered his name even after knowing him for thirty years. Blink? Was it Blink?
Angel peeked in to see who he was talking to, and froze, though he shouldnât have been surprised. Blink was holding his hands out placatingly and talking about how dangerous things were, while across from him sat⌠Vark. Enormous, sharp-toothed, wide-eyed Vark, Voxâs pet land hammerhead shark that had once gone everywhere at his heel until the creature grew too large to easily traverse the corridors. Now, Angel rarely thought about Varkâout of sight, out of mind, and all thatâbut of course he would be in Voxâs suite if he wasnât swimming around in the giant fish tanks that seemed to stretch the height of several floors.
Vark made a noise somewhere between a dogâs yap and the sound a shark might make if sharks made noise, and Blink backed up sharply. âNo,â Blink said firmly. âSit. Mr. Vox wants you to stay here. Heâll be back. Okay?â
Vark tilted his head, and Angel smirked. It was the same look Fat Nuggets gave when he didnât understand something, which was all the time.
Blink, like he was just satisfied that Vark was seated now, quickly hurried out of the room and locked the door behind him. Immediately, Vark stood up, then wandered to the door in a mild confusion before wandering back and then starting to meander around the room with no real destination in mind.
Angel took his eyes off the shark to, instead, look around the room as best he could from his vantage point. Voxâs room was exactly what Angel expected, all the same sorts of sleek style and dark colors accented with electric blue and red. It was clean and sterile in a way that put Angel on edge, and he knew beyond a doubt that this was not somewhere he wanted to be.
He was about to move away when something else caught his eye: a glimpse of red, so different from Voxâs that he couldnât help stopping and taking a second look.
Alastorâs coat.
Not just his coat, either, but that was the first thing he noticed: Alastorâs coat, laid out on the corner of Voxâs bed near the foot, with such care that it looked like it had been smoothed over with hands. Next to it, his shirt and pants were folded with his standing collar, bow tie, and monocle, his shoes set on the floor nearby.
It was⌠almost reverent, and that made it fucking creepy.
Angel hadnât found Alastor, but he had found his clothes, and he would think about how skeevy that was when he had even two spare minutes. There was no vent near the bed, which meant he was going to have to play this as carefully as possible, because otherwise he was losing an arm.
Carefully, Angel began unfastening the vent cover, but even with as quiet as he was being he attracted Varkâs attention. The shark swiveled and stared up at him with wide eyes, and Angel froze, staring back. There was no barking frenzy or any other noise; Vark just stared, his tail wagging back and forth slowly, looking for all the world like he was confused about how this visitor had come visiting but wasnât too fussed about it.
ââŚyou are, without a doubt, the best Vee,â Angel whispered. Vark wagged a little faster when he was spoken at.
Since there was no frenzy and it wasnât like he could just hide again and make Vark forget he was there, Angel finished and pulled the vent cover into the vent itself before leaning out. Still, Vark watched him with concentrated interest, and Angel slowly lowered himself onto a round metal table and crouching before his socks could slip.
Angel looked around quickly, his eyes falling on a bag of treats. Picking them up, he showed them to Vark. âThese yours, sweetie?â Vark perked up immediately. âThen Iâll tell you what,â he continued, keeping his voice as friendly and gentle as he could. He pointed at Alastorâs clothes. âI need those. You lemme get âem, and this whole bagâs yours. Deal?â
Vark blinked, following the line of his hand, then walked over to Alastorâs clothes. He sniffed the coat and then sneezed immediately, and Angel had to suppress a laugh; he knew he had gotten used to the Radio Demonâs intentional âstay away from meâ odor, but he couldnât imagine how it would smell to something so hypersensitive.
Vark cast Angel a look that was almost plaintive. Angel snorted. âYeah. Yeah, I need all that.â He would have sworn Vark sighed before he leaned forward and, to Angelâs shock, grabbed the sleeve of Alastorâs coat between his teeth. Angel almost told him to stop, but Vark wasnât paying attention; he tugged it off the bed, then dragged it to the table, dropping the sleeve on the surface in front of Angel and wagging.
Angel stared at him. ââŚyouâre a lot smarter than you look,â he said, pulling out a squishy meat treat that smelled like fish and tossing it gently. Vark immediately wiggled with excitement and snapped it out of the air, revealing his massive teeth and an incredibly terrifying snap of his jaw. Angelâs laugh was more nervous this time. âOh my god you got a lot of⌠mouth⌠dontcha?â He cleared his throat. âWanna get me the rest?â
It took longer than Angel would have liked, but it kept Vark happy and calm, so he stayed crouched while Vark brought him each part of Alastorâs attire in exchange for a treat until Angel had all of it gathered up and held against his torso in his third set of arms.
âThanks, Vark. Youâre a good boy,â Angel said. Vark leaned towards him, and Angel hesitated before carefully reaching out and rubbing him on the front of his head between his eyes. Vark purred, then wandered off, like he was happy to have done a good job and had officially lost interest now that he had been praised. Angel couldnât be mad about it, and he climbed back into the vent, putting the cover back in place before anyone came in.
At least something went right.
It was harder getting around with his arms full, but Angel took his time to make sure he didnât drop anything, carefully searching floors where he knew Vox did most of his work. His lack of direction and his desperation were just driving him into frustration when Angel didnât see anything or hear anything, but he felt something⌠like the air itself was being disturbed by some kind of interference.
That, he thought. He didnât know how he knew, but he did. He was sure of it.
Angel followed that strange feeling as it grew heavier, leading him to a strange room that seemed really big but only had an illuminated table and computer console right in the center. Angel assumed there was other equipment in the dark, but he couldnât see a damn thing. It didnât matter, anyway, because the interference had turned into the low sound of radio static that followed Alastor everywhere but was normally so quiet it couldnât be heard over the other ambient noises. If it wasnât for the fact that VoxTek was so silent right now, Angel never would have heard it.
Alastor was lying on his back in the center of that table, fastened down with metal shackles and either asleep or unconscious. Angel let himself out of the vent and, after ensuring there was no one around, hurried to the side of the table and assessed the situation. Alastor was bleeding from a series of thin metal rods that had been slipped into his body through incision that had been made in his muscles, the ends of those rods rigged up to wires that ran along the floor and into the console.
âAlastorâŚâ Angel breathed, but the Radio Demon didnât stir. He hadnât really expected him to. He didnât want to leave, but there didnât seem to be a way to force the shackles open, since they were actually a part of the table.
Angel started moving to the console, but stopped, one wire in particular catching his eye. The skin around it was bloodier than the others, and it looked like it hadnât been slid into an incision, but had instead been stabbed straight down into⌠into Alastorâs soul mark.
Iâm gonna fuckinâ kill you, Vox.
Grinding his teeth, Angel went to the console and racked his brain with everything he knew about passwords around the company, and namely, the ones he knew Vox had used in the past. It took a few tries, but Angel finally got the proper combination of symbols Vox favored, a couple of sets of numbers that seemed to have some meaning, and the name Clifford that popped up in Voxâs security shit a lot (whatever that meant). With a beep, he got the controls loaded, and carefully combed the menus until he found the option to release the shackles with a metallic snap and the hiss of hydraulics.
Abandoning the console, Angel ran over to the table, carefully dropping the clothes next to Alastorâs legs and leaning over the other demon. âAlastor,â he whispered urgently, reaching out and gently stroking the deerâs hair. âAlastor. Câmon, Smiles, wake up.â
Alastorâs face twitched with pain, his smile strained even while unconscious, and it took him a moment to start opening his eyes. He jerked when he saw Angel over him, probably only registering a shape, and Angel moved back a few inches and waited. Alastor looked mildly unseeing for a few moments before his eyes slowly focused. ââŚam I asleep?â
âWhy, yâfeel like youâre dreaming?â
ââŚno,â Alastor said. He meant something else. Angel didnât have time to ask.
âWe gotta go, Smiles,â Angel whispered. âI gotta get these wires outta you. Itâs gonna hurt and you need to not make noise. Okay?â
âOh, goodie,â Alastor said weakly, immediately slipping into flippant business mode when he saw that Angel seemed to be focused and hurrying. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. âQuiet⌠as a church mouse, sha⌠I promise.â
âYou ainât never been in a church,â Angel accused, leaning down to slowly begin working the wires out of his arm.
Alastor hissed. âWell, they seemed very⌠quiet from⌠the other side of⌠town, in my⌠defense.â
âPretty sure all mice squeak.â
âI⌠do not squeak.â
Angel threw down a second wire. âI got evidence that says otherwise.â
Alastor glared down at him. âYou have no such thing.
Angel smiled at him, then went back to what he was doing. âI wonât tell. Itâs my special knowledge, nobody else gets that.â
As another wire slipped out, Alastor drew a breath, then started speaking in a voice that was almost hesitant. ââŚAngelââ
âDonât,â Angel cut him off, speaking as gently as he could but not looking at his face. âDonât. Not right now. I know, we gottaâ weâll talk. I promise. But not now. Okay?â
Without looking at him, Angel couldnât know what Alastor might be thinking. But, eventually, he just said, ââŚof course. Youâre right.â
To Alastorâs credit, he did little more than hiss or grunt at the stabs of pain, and soon Angel had every wire removed except the one that had been stabbed into him. Angel moved up and laid one hand on Alastorâs chest, a second on his bicep, and a third on his wrist. âThis is gonna hurt,â he warned.
Alastor turned his head enough to look him in the eye. ââŚI know.â
That sounded loaded.
Angel wrapped his fourth had around the wire and waited for Alastorâs nod before he pulled straight up, pushing down with his other hands to both hold Alastor still and leverage himself up. Alastorâs face contorted in pain, and Angel moved his hand from the Radio Demonâs chest to his mouth, clamping down over his lips to muffle his cry. As another hand wrapped around the bleeding soul mark, Angel leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. âShh, Smiles, itâs okay. Itâs gonna be okay.â
Alastorâs breathing was labored and stuttering, and Angel could feel the hot moisture of each exhale, the scrape of Alastorâs teeth, the occasional touch of his tongueâŚ
âCome on,â Angel whispered before he could get any bright ideas. He had never seen Alastor so vulnerable, and this was absolutely not the time for anything but business. âI got your clothes. We gotta get you outta here. Can you walk?â
âOf course,â Alastor grunted, though he still needed Angel to leverage him into a sitting position. He then helped Alastor into his clothing as best he could, which ended up being slacks, shirt, suspenders, shoes, and monocle. Angel left the top two buttons of the shirt undone, and with Alastorâs current state, the collar, tie, and coat were out of the question. Alastor seemed to think the same thing, because he took them in his hands and hesitated before his face contorted in pain and they vanished into shadow.
âOkay. Come on, up,â Angel said, holding his hands out to Alastor. Slowly, the Radio Demon took them, clearly hyping himself up to stand.
âWhere the fuck do you two think youâre going?â
Fear shot through Angel, and he felt Alastor stiffen. Angel looked up, and just at the periphery of the ring of illumination around them, he sawâ
âVal,â Angel whispered.
He didnât know how to describe the look on Valentinoâs face. Angel had never seen it before. Slowly, he began to advance, his eyes on Angel. âYou really have learned how to be slippery, havenât you, amorcito? Can you imagine my surprise when I came back to your little holding cell and found you gone?â
âVal, Iââ
âAnd then,â he interrupted, âI hear that someone broke into Voxâs room and removed a few⌠items. Did you think you were being slick, Angel Dust? Did you really think you would get away with it?â
Angel held his hands up, not looking at Alastor and silently begging him to run. âVal, donâtâŚ!â
âDo not tell me what to do!â Valentino shouted. He reached one hand out, clenched his fist, yankedâŚ
âŚand nothing happened.
Angel stared at Valentino, waiting for the feeling of a chain around his throat that would drag him to the ground⌠but it never came. It took a moment for Valentino to come to the same conclusion, and he murmured, ââŚthe fuckâŚ?â before repeating the motion.
Still, nothing happened.
Valentino was in shock. Angel was in shock. What happened? Where was his chain? Where had it gone? Why couldnât he feel it?
After a breath, Angel decided it didnât matter. Instead, he put his hands on the metal table, scrambled up onto its surface, and launched himself at Valentino. He heard Alastor shout something, but he didnât look, and soon all he heard was an enraged scream as Angel dragged his claws through Valentinoâs face.
â˘â˘â˘
#my writing#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#radiodust#hazbin radiodust#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#radiodust fanfic#hazbin vox#hazbin valentino#alastorâs shadow#hazbin charlie#hazbin vaggie#helluva blitzø#helluva moxxie#hazbin arackniss#hazbin niffty#voxâs assistant#hazbin vark
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Vark in Hazbin Hotel! pt1
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Heâs just a big olâ pup and I love him!
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*One minute Jenn is alone in the tower, the next there is something in front of her. A- shark? Who knows.*
âMrp.â
((translation: Hi :D))
*happy tail swishes*
@varkthesharkthing
((Sharky: feel free not to respond))
Jenn looks down to find the little shark staring up at her. This wasnât an unfamiliar sight by any means, but the shark before her was not Jeffie.
âOh, hello,â she said sweetly. âYouâre a cutie.â
#hazbin hotel#sinner jenn#hazbin hotel oc#oc#hazbin rp#vark the shark thing#hazbin vark#hazbin hotel vark
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