#me when i get my hands on you motherfucker

[vyxenisl0st]

ׂ╰┈➤𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚

Alastor x reader

🀥 Summary: You despised the TV Demon—the sound of his voice, his face, and especially his incessant news channel. But what happens when he finally says something worth listening to?

🀥Warnings: fem!reader, name or pronouns not used, slight angst, vulgar language, threats

🀥Word count: 722

ﾟ･:,｡★＼(^-^)♪ありがと♪( ^-^)/★,｡･:･ﾟ

“Top of the hour, and we’re discussing—”

You considered yourself a calm, patient demon. But hell, his voice? It was like nails on a chalkboard, every syllable scraping your nerves raw.

“Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice—”

You sighed, sinking deeper into the plush chair as the masseuse’s hands pressed against your back. For all the torment Hell had to offer, the spas in the Pleasure District were one of its rare luxuries. Still, even the quiet hum of the district couldn’t drown out Vox’s droning.

“So, the Radio Demon is back in town—”

Your eyes snapped open. The voice that grated so terribly was now saying something useful. Pushing the masseuse’s hands aside, you sat up, the silk robe brushing against your legs as you turned to the screen. God, you hated Vox’s face more than his voice, but for once, he wasn’t just background noise.

“But the demon is a coward!”

In a blink, your robe transformed into something more appropriate—or as close to “appropriate” as one could get in Hell. You didn’t have time to waste.

“Alyssa!”

A sheepish sinner came skittering into view. “Y-yes, my lady?”

The echo of your footsteps cut through the spa’s tranquil stillness. “The spa is open for sinners again. I’m leaving.”

Alyssa hesitated but scrambled after you. “Yes, of course! Uh… where exactly are you going?”

It was rare for you to leave your district, the most pleasant part of Hell by far. But as your fingers brushed the silver band on your finger, your expression darkened.

“To see my husband.”

It didn't take long to figure out where Alastor was hiding-er, residing. The flashing HAZBIN HOTEL sign practically shouted his name. And the commercial?

A slap in the face.

"Rehabilitation for sinners," you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes. What a load of crap.

You approached the towering doors, your fists clenched at your sides. What would you say to him? What could you possibly say after seven years of silence? You knocked once. Twice. Muffled voices floated from the other side of the door, making your irritation grow. When it finally opened, your heart skipped a beat - well, it would have, if it was beating.

There he was: Alastor. The Radio Demon. Your husband.

Your fist shot out before your mind could even process it, connecting with his face with a sickening crack. He flew into the wall, a dumbfounded expression plastered on his face. Without hesitation, you stalked toward him and grabbed him by the collar, your voice roaring through the hotel.

"You motherfucker. Not only do you disappear without a word, but you come back after seven years, and I find out from the fucking TV Demon?" You seethed, your grip tightening.

"You have five seconds to explain yourself before I dismember you and scatter your parts across all of Hell."

Before you could finish your threat, a sharp, cold blade pressed against your neck. You whirled around, fury igniting at the sight of a girl-her eye marked with an X-holding a spear. "Do you mind?" You snarled, stepping back slightly. "We're having a moment here."

She pressed the blade harder.

"Who are you?" Her gaze flicked over to Alastor. "And why are you just standing there? You're more than capable of defending yourself."

Alastor laughed—a low, amused chuckle that made your skin crawl. Slowly, he rose to his feet.

"How touching," he said, brushing off his suit. "To see you defending me. But don't worry, my dear. This is just how my wife likes to greet me."

Author’s note: I decided to turn my silly little scenarios into fanfics. It’s my first time writing for Hazbin Hotel so be nice. And let me know if you want me to make a second part.

[etirabys]

the author of this slaughterhouse book I'm reading their coworkers agree the job where you semi-kill a semi-immobilized cow with a bolt through its head is the most traumatizing one

Back in the chutes, Fernando asks, “Why you out there doing that? You want to be the knocker?” When I say maybe, he responds, “No, you don’t want to do that. I don’t want to do that. Nobody wants to do that. You’ll have bad dreams.” ... When I tell Tyler I shot three animals with the knocking gun the day before, he urges me to stop. “Man, that will mess you up. Knockers have to see a psychologist or a psychiatrist or whatever they’re called every three months.” “Really? Why?” “Because, man, that’s killing,” he says; “that shit will fuck you up for real.”

but honestly, of the various roles the author tries out, the one that sounds most traumatizing on paper is the one where the cows are mobile, you're ushering them along a passageway, and you could do it without an electric prod except this is slightly slower and your coworkers will get mad at you and pressure you to do the crueler thing. I feel like that would twist me up inside worse

Without the electric prods, the momentum of the line of animals is sufficient to move the cattle through the opening in the slaughterhouse wall into the knocking box, but not at the pace that the chute workers want. When shocked, the animals jump into the box, moving the line more quickly and reducing the probability of an animal’s balking and holding up the line behind it. Once, when the line moves too slowly for Fernando’s liking, he sprints up the walkway from the squeeze pen, grabs the plastic paddle out of my hand, and shoves the electric prod into it. “You motherfucking pussy!” he yells. "Do your job and use the fucking hotshot!”

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Hey FA I know you like Jaune a lot so is it weird that their might be possible parallels between him and Ironwood? I mean you don't loose limbs without a reason and James gave away what is possibly thousands in lien in the form of Yang's Arm. We know Jaune himself is incredibly caring through the mountains of small scenes of comforting weiss, pyrrha, ruby, the milfs, etc. They also broke, James with the Atlas Shitshow and Jaune having his RUSTED experience. Thoughts?

James being a good person has never been a question to me, I royally hate anyone who assumes he's a bad person. Like dude is in the only Military in all of their world, had 40% of the political power and all it's military in Atlas.

If James was a bad guy he could've put a real effort into taking over Remnant. Literally the only reason James broke was because he was trying to reconnect the world's communications while a new terrorist group where attacking his efforts (Fucking Happy Huntresses)

And then learned RWBY had been lying to him, then back stabbed him... All while he was having to overly on his semblance Mettle which legitimately turns him less humane mentally.

Like No Shit He Would Turn Bad! But Not Evil! Never Evil, James was trying to save Remnant and then when he couldn't because he got fucked over by Team Mary Sue he tried to at least save who he could.

Like James personality from what we've glimpse is literally like my grandpa who was Airforce. But without the moments of levity or time to unwind.

Let's be clear I like Ozpin and all but I can conceive and write a evil one, I cannot write a bad James.

Also side note I loved Qrow until Vol 8 where he turns on Ironwood when Clover Death is on his and Tyrian's hands. Likw motherfucker you've known Ironwood probably since your Beacon Days! What The Actual Fuck Was Wrong With You That You Weren't Able To Recognize How Fucked In The Head James Was When You Saw Him Again!

MOTHERFUCKER HUGGED YOU, THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN THE REDDIST OF FLAGS TO GET HIM HELP!!!

[countlessrealities]

Blitzo let out a non-committal sound in response to the other's defensive comeback. He was ready to recognise that picking a new name was legit, especially since he himself had just pointed out how your past on Earth mattered nothing in Hell.

On the other hand, though, it also confirmed that the sinner was really shit at nicknames and aliases.

That last thought caused him to quietly snort in amusement to himself, but he refrained from reiterating the concept out loud. He was wittier than that, or at least he liked to think that he could be.

Besides, his attention was quickly stolen away from what Lobo muttered next. He should listen to "Ballroom Blitz"? So they were talking about music. Human music, most likely, but it was still something he enjoyed in general.

"What kind of sound are we talkin'? 'Cause I like my music hard, if you get what I mean. No pussy slow and soft lullabies for this guy." He stabbed his chest with his thumb as he spoke those words. "I dunno much about Earth music, but I can get my hands on some shit, if you tell me what I need to look for."

He could have easily broken into a music store the next time they were working a job. And to hell with his own rule of not wasting time on things that weren't the target. If Moxxie wanted to protest about him being a hypocrite, he would have told the weapon specialist where to shove his complaints.

"A serial killer with his own cooking show? Ha! Now, that's a funny one." Yet, somehow, it sounded like something that made a lot of sense. "Is it the kind of show where the special guests end up being the secret ingredient or somethin'? I've seen a few around, and Satan, I can see why that crap is popular."

He found it extremely cringe, but also hilarious. He and Millie had binged a few, back when they used to hang out after work regularly.

"But yeah, I agree on that. Goin' after the big stars when they aren't even payin' you ain't worth it. That's why I make sure to know in advance what kind of motherfucker I'm huntin' down. The riskier, the higher the price."

And, of course, there were also the bonuses he demanded in certain case. Going to the human world was always a hazard and that alone demanded a reward. Plus, they were just damn good at what they did and talent should pay.

"That chick doesn't ring any bells either, so...yeah, she probably failed at whatever she tried to do. Or just died again. So much worse for her." A shrug. "Sounds like you were good at the wrong kind of science. I had a couple of clients who carried on their career down here...but it was all stuff that could be used to make drugs or weapons. Or shit you can sell to normal folks."

People still needed food and wanted technology they could use, even in Hell.

"But I'll bite. What's your specialty? I bet it ain't chemistry, if you ended up as the repair guy."

"I had a real name when I was alive," Lobo defended shortly. "I'm just dead now - there's no point in using it." And that man was already dead anyway... the physical translation was just the final nail in that coffin. Not even work felt the same after what happened.

Lobo wondered if the imp ever listened to Earth music. He couldn't imagine it, but at least Ghost or E Nomine or something had to appeal to him... right? Or was he being short-sighted in thinking that? The imp didn't seem the type to actually serve a Sin, but Lobo didn't know what he did for a day job. Other than that he was good at killing, apparently.

"You should listen to the Ballroom Blitz," he murmured lowly. "It's... good." He didn't know how to sell music to someone anymore - that's all he could come up with.

God, this was going to be a long drive. Public transportation took a longer, sure, but trying to speak awkwardly to another person was not something Lobo was looking forward to. He floated the idea of pretending to sleep, but he didn't want to give the other the idea of betraying him.

He was a little surprised at the question. "Why would I go after Dahmer?" he asked. "Jeffery has a cooking show - the demons love him," Lobo said like it was obvious. "If he gets killed, there's going to be rabid fans seeking revenge. I don't need that sort of shit on my tail." Hah! Tail. Because he had one now.

"I used to be a respected scientist before I died. Now, I'm just some guy with a repair shop. As for the serial killers... functionally, there are some that are worse than others. Elizabeth Bathory for instance... even she was more prolific than Kemper. But you're right - I haven't heard of her down here. She was a queen up top, you know? But down here? Who the Hell knows what happened to her. You're right - exterminations sometimes wipe out the worst before they can even start from scratch all over again."

This brought him back to his mother. She was probably exterminated long before Lobo showed up. Good riddance.

[madame-mongoose]

This model is so fucking cool I bet I could tear him apart with my bare hands. I bet it would be easy

[yellowistheraddest]

people on internet say use references when drawing, and im tired of being stubborn for no reason this is the end of yellow as you knew me

[stabbyfoxandrew]

every time my dad does anything he has to do it in the most annoying and loudest way possible. and honestly i'm not sure if he means to or he's just really goddamn stupid but it's really really grating. and i'm suffering the werewolf curse rn so i'm ready to die

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

watching fandaniel go is wild because he is just [vestibular stims] [vestibular stims] [vestibular stims] [vestibular stims] and yeah man that's a mood

[bloodcoveredgf]

in my prophet era

[talentforlying]

one of these days i'm going to write up all that i've changed from azzarello's bullshit era and the one (1) piece i've kept from milligan (and also changed) and the only thing currently stopping me is that it is going to be so, so inside-baseball incomprehensible. and i almost never want to go reading/screencapping azzarello and milligan to add references but i Want to add references.

canon is goop, just know that we continue to ride the bus down "hellblazer ended at #250 and looks like swiss cheese before that" street.

[vanweezer]

being extroverted must be awesome imagine feeling nothing after telling someone "wow youre REALLY quiet". im going to talk less around you now 🫶

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

hate how im now at a point where im legit like kicking my legs and grinning like an idiot over fictional characters SEND HELP

[derpu-doodles]

(pats the top of his head) this guy can fit So Much Sadness in him

whoops I popped off in the tags

[waywardsalt]

hopefully the last bitter post i make abt totk, but i had this realization abt it

(starting with the disclaimer that this is very much based on what I personally value in video games, on my feelings towards totk, this is subjective unless I start getting into objective things)

this was going to be a longer post but i am exhausted and i don't know how to really word this, but; totk feels like a world built almost exclusively on doylist explanations. it does not feel like a natural place, it does not feel like a time that takes place a few years after botw, it does not feel like a story that happens because events happened in this world; it feels like a video game location created for player entertainment, the whip-lash inducing shift from sheikah tech focus to zonai exists literally because the devs wanted to give the players shiny new toys while the old sheikah stuff doesn't take up any space, the story is clearly an afterthought compared to gameplay and an excuse to give the player more little things to play with, the worldbuilding has little thought put into it past new ways for the player to have fun and do new things, any and all references to past games (even to fucking botw) are very shallow callbacks that either make no sense in context or are just stupid little winks to those who aren't new to the game, while much of the extremely awkward inconsistencies with botw are there because they wanted to cater to new people.

this story doesn't build on botw's story, it rolls back and stampedes over some ideas from that game, it's a squeal for the sake of giving people these characters and this world again with some tweaks and fliers, the musical references to divine beasts and champions mean absolutely nothing in context and are only there as hollow references in lieu of using any new and relevant leitmotifs, characters that are flat on the surface and downright confusing and nonsensical and marinated in old stale tropes if you look any deeper, the villain being ganondorf specifically does not matter in context because nothing unique to ganondorf the character is ever explicitly important and he was just put in because he's the popular zelda villain, the references are hollow and carry no meaning in the greater scheme of things, the story itself ends by returning to the way everything was when the game started because oh we can't have our precious well-known ip important characters be permanently disabled or forever altered in a meaningful way.

it's so painfully... all there because it's a fictional work created for an audience seeking fun. it's so obviously like that because it was created with the goal of fixing things from a previous title and adding new things without any regard for narrative cohesion or good worldbuilding.

as someone who enjoys games with stories best when really taking into consideration and delving into the depths of that story, totk just unravels in front of my eyes when i try to do that, and it just feels insulting at how obviously ultrahand exists literally so the player can pull off dumbass g-mod dogshit while any story explanation for why that power exists at all is either flimsy as hell or straight-up not there.

[orcgirlcock]

i wish someone could make me breakfast :(

[existentialcrisisetcetera]

Hope you’re doing alright, feel better soon

who the fuck are you and how do you know whats been going on