#radio demon hazbin hotel

[redvexillum]

Alastor: No need to fret, my dear! I have a plan.

Y/N: As long as it doesn't involve murdering or brutally butchering them, I'm open to hearing it.

Alastor: ...

Y/N: ...

Alastor: Well, I suppose you should start fretting.

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[karola25]

[chaoticace2005]

The Radio Demon? No.

The RADio Demon

The REDio Demon

The (nearly) DEADio Demon

The DADio Demon

The BADio Demon

The LADio Demon

The MADio Demon

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Imagine asking Alastor to glow in the dark because you can't find your way to the bathroom at night 🤣🤣🤣

You tripping on a root: "Ouch... Alastor...?"

Alastor (half asleep): "Mmmm?"

You: "I can't see... And I need the toilet badly... Can you... Do the thing please...?"

Alastor sighs, but opens his eyes, a rush of power making his eyes glow red and the rest of himself glows green, illuminating the room.

You: "Thanks..."

Alastor: "You're welcome Dear... Now hurry up."

You go to scuttle off.

You: "Oh and Al?"

Alastor's smile strains, You can see his glowing teeth.

Alastor: "Yes Dearest?"

You: "Love you."

Alastor's eyes and smile softens.

Alastor: "I love you too, my Heart, do please hurry up... I'm awake now and you're in need of punishment it seems."

You giggle and hurry along, You love disturbing his nights like that... It's why you always drink a litre of water before bedtime.

A/N: Yes Alastor is now a nightlight 🤣

[sugoi-writes]

Scent Kink - Featuring Alastor x GN! Reader

A/N: HEAVILY inspired (and partially written for) @hazelfoureyes... UNO VERSE, DEER! I hope this is alright, as I feel you do him SOOO much more justice. Your thirsts have made me cave in. I will need to go to confessional after this one.

Includes: scent kink (Alastor has it for reader), GN! Reader, some implications, mentions of violence/carnal desires, and of course, some m*sturbation. Yippee~

Honest to Satan, it took him by surprise. Rarely was Alastor motivated by anything "innate" or "carnal" (past his violent urges against ne'er-do-wells). That is... until you came into the picture.

Alastor's always had a great nose: all the better to spot bad meat with! ...But now? Now he can't help the way he drifts and looks your way. Now, he has to hide the perk in his ears and the subtle nostril twitches and flails. Now, he often stands closer to you when engaged in group activities. Hell, the seat to his right will always be reserved for you. Anything to get closer and catch just a momentary, minute whiff to take in your scent...

When you arrive back to the hotel, he's at the door, helping to take your coat. It's always on the coat rack by the door when you need it most... but when you weren't paying attention? Alastor had it all to himself.

There had even been times where Niffty was doing laundry, and he had half the mind to volunteer to help... it'd much less suspicious of him to handle your things this way, right? But alas, that was maybe a touch obvious... and Alastor is not known for his charity.

When you're fresh from a shower and coming down for dinner, he always seemed out-of-sorts. Little did you know that the Radio Demon was sad that your natural scent was muted by flowery, excessive fragrance. No, he much preferred seeing you worked up, disheveled, maybe even a bit... unkempt? A normally tidy, avoidant, do-NOT-touch-me man was reduced to this? It unnerved him to no end; his blood was boiling.

He had his normal mask, that damned smile, working overtime. Anything to distact you from his eye twitching. Anything so you wouldn't notice how he shifted his weight next to you. He would curse himself, his back straightening and even arching when you leaned over him on the couch, straining to grab the TV remote. He made grand, almost cartoonishly bold gestures now... just so you would miss how much he needed to adjust himself around you. How much his eyes would dialate when you were close to him, for any reason...

But the more he tried to hide it... the more craved it; the more he needed the real deal.

---

You were adjusting yourself after a recent scuffle, loan sharks having come looking for Mimzy again... You winced, clutching your side from a harsh blow you received. You would definitely need some help taking care of that...

You could barely make it two steps before Alastor has you by the wrist, pulling your arm taunt. You panic, wriggling and squirming as Alastor's eyes roamed over you. You had a delectable little nick on your cheek, weeping blood. Alastor leans down, breath ghosting your cheek as you shuddered. You felt a jolt of electricity race up your spine as he spoke:

"Dear, you should really be more careful...," a thumb grazes your flushed flesh, before his taloned digit is licked clean. You found yourself struggling to swallow the lump in your throat as a toothy, sultry grin is sent your way.

"You're getting sloppy...~"

You can't help but notice how obsessively attentive he was. How he managed to pull you inside, and forced you to sit on his bed. He asked you to strip down to the basics, and tended to your wounds, no matter how little. You could hear every time that Alastor's breath shook and hitched, absolutely enthralled by you. You were in his sights, in his hands, and you invaded his sense of smell.... he was so close, yet he felt miles away...

The only way he didn't have you was with his tongue, lapping at your sweet, sweet sweat... Maybe, he would consider licking a little lower... did you taste as good as you smelled?

He would inhale deeply as he spied fresh blood or helped remove old clothing/bandages. This routine of yours would continue, even as your wounds became more manageable.

One would assume he was concentrating when he held his breath... but NO. He was memorizing this. He would remember this map-out of your musk and body like the back of his hand... He felt like a mut in heat with how hungrily he regarded you.

You had missed the way that Alastor's eyes gleamed when he offered to wash your dirty, bloodied clothing for you. Embarrassed but appreciative, you took him up on his offer. As he gave you one of his blouses as a temporary cover up, sending you on your way... Alastor locked the door, practically salivating.

Never had he been brought to his knees so quickly, doubled over and panting. Never had he practically torn his pants off, seams frayed and barely hanging on.

He frantically fisted his cock, pumping hard and fast as his precum glided down his warm, agitated tip. The desperate mewls and blissful sighes that escaped with every pant was almost musical, bouncing off the walls of his room in a grotesque cacophany. The staticy filter cloaking his voice had vanished, leaving him nothing but a bare, hungry, frenzied sinner.

As he balled up your shirt, inhaling sharply, he fumbled through curses and praises... You. You. You. This was your fault.

And even as his mind demanded more, his body sought its release, making a mess of his hand and the carpet. He grimaced at the warm fluids, realizing he'd have to deal with that sooner, rather than later. Alastor would fall back onto his haunches, shirt still gripped tightly in his left hand. Shakily, he held it up to his face again, nuzzling into it as he took in more of your musk. His own had started to cling to the shirt, his sweat and drool starting to dampen your smell.

You were driving him to madness. To his dismay, he realized that this would not be enough... not anymore.

He let his hands fall lazily in front of him, cock still throbbing absentmindedly.

First, a quick wash and preening. Then... he'd be looking for you to answer for his desires.

[onehelluvahotel]

A what now?? O.o

[cryptidghostgirl]

Rhapsody (Alastor x Gn!Cursed!Reader) Master List

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor and Y/n have been taking down the overlords of Hell together for years but Y/n has had a secret and Alastor knows it. They each go their separate ways because of this but what happens when years later their paths intersect once again. Loosely inspired by Raine and Eda in The Owl House.

Warnings: ANGST. Will edit as more appear.

Status: Ongoing

Part One -> Rhapsody

Part Two -> Ritornello

Part Three -> Rapture

Part Four -> Requiem (coming soon)

A/N this series might end up with more parts than I have planned.

[alastor-simp]

THIS ALASTOR ANIMATIC IS TOP TIER! OMG!!!

Credit to the amazing animator biskies_☆ on youtube

[spirit-doll]

[redvexillum]

Dedicated to my fluff-loving friend, Ms. 🍑. I'm getting whiplash. The last four days were probably the darkest and smuttiest writing I've done - and today, it's ...fluff to the max. I stuffed all the fluff in my mouth. I want this story to be so fluffy that I become fluffy.

 A smile was said to be worth a thousand words, a silent language that could light up the room, soothe others, or even hide the darkest of truths.  

But what did it mean if you couldn’t smile? If every time you tried, your lips refused to cooperate, did that make you worthless? 

All your life, people said the same thing: “Just smile, honey.” And when you didn’t, they assumed you were upset, angry, or just a frigid bitch. 

But that wasn’t it. It was never that simple. You weren't upset, at least not in the way they thought.  

So, you started practising, standing in front of the mirror day by day, willing yourself to smile. You’d stretch your lips upwards, trying to mould them into something that looked natural. But the face that stared back at you was wrong.  

It didn’t look like you.  

The curve of your lips felt forced, your eyes not lighting up the way they were supposed to. The reflection almost mocked you with its emptiness, the smile looking more like a grimace, a mask of something false.   

And you hated it.  

You hated how fake it felt, how alien it looked. It didn’t bring you any joy, just a hollow, bitter taste.  

If a smile was truly worth a thousand words, then maybe yours was worth nothing at all. 

Alastor had spent months trying to coax a smile out of you. When you first arrived at the hotel, your lips were a perfect, unyielding line, your eyes flat and devoid of any spark. At first, he paid you no mind. The hotel was bustling, full of fresh souls seeking redemption, and he had no shortage of entertainment.  

The “Princess’ Redemption Program,” as much as it irked him, was thriving. There were countless other residents, and yet...you stood out, your lack of expression gnawing at him more than he’d care to admit.  

He didn’t like you – not at first. While others laughed and grinned, you remained stone-faced, and it irritated him. You befriended everyone in the hotel, navigating its chaos with grace, but never once did your lips so much as twitch into a smile. And that irked him more. 

Eventually, something in him shifted. Perhaps it was the challenge you presented, or maybe he had eternity to burn. Either way, he decided he was going to make you smile. Once, just once, and then he’d be on his merry way.  

So, he tried everything. At first, you merely raised an eyebrow, curious but silent as he suddenly began spending more time with you. Yet, you never complained. Instead, you listened, offering no reaction other than attentive silence.  

He’d tell jokes, ones that normally left him in stitches, but you’d sit there, unblinking, lips still pressed into that same stubborn line.  

Then, he tried pranks. He’d tap your shoulder and watch you startle when he appeared behind you, his laughter echoing down the halls. Every time, the same trick, the same reaction – but never a smile. Only a flicker of surprise before you carried on, as if nothing had happened.  

“Knock, knock!” He said one day, his voice lifting to its usual jovial pitch, eyes gleaming with mischief.  

You tilted your head, blinking innocently at him. “Who’s there?” 

“Boo,” he said, leaning closer, the tension in the air thickening with his creeping grin.  

“Boo, who?” 

His neck tilted, cracking unnaturally to the side as his microphone staff crackled with a sharp burst of static. “Oh, don’t cry now, dear! You’ll really have something to weep about once the fun begins!” His smile stretched wide, cutting into his cheeks as the ominous word settled into the space between you.  

But you stared back, unfazed. “That joke is pretty on-brand with you,” you said in the same soft monotone, nodding slightly before continuing on your way as if nothing had happened.  

Alastor’s left eye twitched as he watched you walk away, completely unfazed. He had told you674 jokes. Six hundred and seventy-four. And not once had you cracked a smile. It couldn’t be that his jokes weren’t funny – that would be an outrageous, preposterous impossibility! 

No, it had to be you.  

No matter how many jokes fell flat, Alastor wasn’t deterred. When punchlines didn’t work, he decided to escalate – physical humour.  

One afternoon, while you were quietly reading in the hotel library, he summoned a shadow tendril with the flick of his hand. It slithered across the floor silently until it reached your side, then gently wiggled under your arm.  

A soft, startled yelp escaped you, a sound so unexpectedly cute that it nearly startled him. You looked down at the mischievous tendril, now waving back at you in playfulness. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment creeping up your neck as your eyes flicked toward Alastor, trying to understand what just happened.  

And Alastor? He blinked, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he realized something new about himself. There was something oddly...endearing about the sound you made. It reminded him of a small, startled puppy, and he couldn’t help but want to hear it again.  

But why? 

Why did he suddenly crave that pathetic little noise? He almost wanted to scold himself for it, but the curiosity was far stronger.  

A booming laugh erupted from him instead, loud and dramatic as always, masking the strange and unfamiliar sensation bubbling in his chest. His heart – what was left of it – beat harder, faster. Palpitations? After death? How bizarre.

Over time, however, things changed in subtle ways. He noticed how easily you fit into his life, sliding into his routine with an almost unnerving grace. Somehow, without ever asking, you convinced him to join you for breakfast each morning. While you quietly nibbled on toast with jam or a simple egg, Alastor would indulge in more ...exotic fare – perhaps a raw deer carcass or the seared flesh of a particularly deserving sinner. Yet, your expression never wavered. No grimace. No disgust.  

There was something oddly comforting about your presence at the breakfast table, the quiet companionship as the two of you sat together. Alastor hadn’t realized how much he missed that – true companionship – since arriving in Hell. Surrounded by chaos and destruction, he hadn’t noticed the absence of something so simple, so human.  

He didn’t mind the morning with you. In fact, he began to look forward to them.  

Days blurred into weeks, and then months. Despite the time you spent together, Alastor had still never seen you smile. Occasionally, he thought he caught the faintest hint of something – a softening in your eyes, perhaps, when you glanced his way – but it never quite reached your lips. At this point, he figured he was smiling enough for both of you.  

Then, something strange happened. He stopped obsessing over making you smile. Somewhere along the line, it ceased being a game or a challenge. He just...stopped. And as for what he was doing with you now? He wasn’t entirely sure.  

He found himself becoming more involved in your daily life, his presence intertwining with your routine. He shared more meals with you. He strolled beside you through town, spinning tales of his past, both in life and in Hell, as you listened with quiet, patient attention.  

And now, here he was, sitting next to you in the library, the two of you reading in comfortable silence, side by side.  

Your arms barely touched, but when you turned a page and the lightest brush of your arm grazed his, Alastor found himself leaning ever so slightly toward you. The movement was so subtle, so imperceptible, that even he wasn’t sure why he did it.  

But he didn’t pull away.  

“ROOOWRRR!” A ghastly yowl echoed through the halls, followed by a chorus of scream – most notably, Charlie’s. Her frantic voice rang out, sharp and panicked.  

“ALASTOR!” Charlie’s scream tore down the hall, urgent and distressed.  

You jolted in place as you instinctively turned to Alastor. Confusion and a flicker of fear danced across your face. Without thinking, Alastor’s hand reached out, patting your arm in what should have been a casual gesture.  

Yet, it felt different – this was the first time he’d touched you in an attempt to comfort. His eyes flickered down to where his hand rested against your skin, realizing the weight of the act. Suddenly, he pulled back as if he had been burned, his fingers tingling from the contact.  

Clearing his throat, he straightened up, trying to cover his uncharacteristic slip with a wide, winning smile. “Ah, it’s nothing to worry your silly head about, darling! Just...that thing again. Visits every three years, though it’s a bit early this time,” he said, his tone light as he brushed imaginary lint off his sleeves, his movements slow and deliberate.  

“That...thing?” You tilted your head, your wide eyes full of innocent curiosity and a touch of lingering uncertainty. Your shoulders hunched in slightly, unconsciously trying to make yourself smaller, to shrink away from whatever chaos awaited in the lobby.  

Alastor’s gaze softened, and an unfamiliar urge tugged at him. He wanted to rub your back in reassurance, to ease the tension in your frame. He had hugged Rosie, hugged Mimzy – so surely, hugging you wouldn’t be any different.  

Yet as his eyes traced the delicate line of your figure, he froze. His heart thudded in his chest, the heat crawling up from his core to his cheeks, unbidden and unfamiliar. The feeling, strange and sudden, made his left eye twitch.Heartburn? Now, of all times?

“It’s nothing, darling,” Alastor assured, folding his hands neatly behind his back, masking the odd sensation that threatened to rise. “You might as well come and see for yourself – it's quite the hideous little thing,” he added with a smirk, trying to inject a bit of humour.  

Curiosity lit up your face, your lips parting in a soft gasp, eyes gleaming. “A hideous little thing?” you asked, your voice gentle as you picked up your pace to walk beside him.  

He couldn’t help but notice that each of his strides required you to take two steps to keep up. Without much of a thought, he slowed his pace until you matched him easily. “Yes, hideous and annoying. I’ve repeatedly told everyone not to feed it, yet here we are,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing in mild distaste as you approached the source of the chaos.  

When you reached the lobby, your eyes widened in pure awe. There, bouncing off the walls with a guttural yowl, was a red-furred four-legged creature the size of a cat. Its eyes were comically pointed outward, each one staring in opposite directions, and the tufts of black tipped fur on its ears bore an uncanny resemblance to Alastor’s own. To top it off, the creature sported a monocle on its left eye – just like Alastor’s.  

“Alastor!” Vaggie’s voice cut through the air as she stood in the centre of the room, sweating and pointing an accusatory finger at the beast. “Deal with Catastor!” 

Your eyes darted to Alastor. “Catastor?” you repeated, the name settling on your lips as you tried to suppress the amusement creeping into your voice.  

Alastor sighed, his grin never faltering. “Yes, Catastor. Don’t ask,” he muttered, casting the creature a look of pure disdain. He turned his attention to Vaggie, his grin tightening as his eyes narrowed. “I’ve told you many times, that thing looks nothing like me,” he spat, thrusting the head of his staff toward the red-furred creature now lazily stretching its body and wiggling around the room, seemingly oblivious to the chaos it had caused.  

“Really?” you mused, stepping forward, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “It does look a bit like you,” you teased, inching closer to the bizarre creature.  

Alastor’s gaze darted to you, and his voice lowered, an edge of warning in his tone. “Careful, darling. That thing has a taste for sinners,” he muttered, grimacing. “Considering, it always manages to sneak into my stockpile of them.” 

The beast, as if sensing the conversation was about it, suddenly lunged in your direction. Alastor’s eyes widened in horror. His heart leapt into his throat as he instinctively reached out, but before he could summon even a flicker of his power to protect you, you had already acted.  

With surprising grace, your hands slid under the creature’s armpits, effortlessly catching it mid-lunge. You cradled it as though it were nothing more than a stray kitten. “Hello again,” you cooed softly, your voice calm, eyes brightening with a gentle warmth as you tilted your head in amusement. 

The room was a mess – the lights still swayed from the beast’s earlier rampage, and a bit of the floorboard lay shattered and torn across the space. Everyone’s hair was in disarray, save for Alastor and you.  

Offering an apologetic smile, you looked around. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, glancing at the others. “I didn’t know we weren’t supposed to feed him.” 

Alastor blinked, too stunned to respond. You held the creature against your chest, your fingers tenderly petting its head, and to his utter disbelief, the beast – this monstrous, chaotic thing – melted in your hands. Its lower half sagged like goo, limp and boneless, as you held it up by its torso.  

A burst of laughter slipped from your lips, light and full of joy. “Silly boy,” you murmured, playfully bopping the creature’s nose. Then, you looked up at Alastor, your eyes curved in a gentle, delighted line, and your smile – radiant and bright – struck him like a punch to the gut. “I promise I’ll take care of him properly, so he doesn’t cause any more trouble. Could he stay?” 

“Absolutely-” Alastor began, his voice rising in protest, but the words caught in his throat. His gaze was glued to your lips, curved in that dazzling smile. He hadn’t even noticed the creature snuggling closer to your chest, its purrs filling the air like a mocking reminder of its victory. That hideous, absurd thing had succeeded where he had failed for months.  

Before he could fully voice his objection, Angel Dust’s voice broke through the moment. “Wait - you’ve been feeding it?” Angel coughed, climbing out from beneath the rubble, dusting himself off. “And that thing didn’t try to eat you?” 

Vaggie, eyes narrowed, stomped her foot in frustration. “How do you know it tries to eat people, Angel? Did you feed it too?” 

Angel shrugged, glancing at her sheepishly. “Maybe...” 

Alastor’s eye twitched, irritation surging through him. Months – months of trying to get you to smile, and now, here you were, beaming because of that disgusting creature. He clenched his jaw, attempting to suppress the growing wave of annoyance.  

Vaggie shot a glare toward Charlie, groaning in exasperation. “No...don’t tell me. Have all of you been feeding Catastor after Alastor explicitly told us not to?” 

Alastor gritted his teeth, the growing resentment gnawing at him. The fact that the creature’s name had been twisted to mimic his own was an insult he could barely stand. He opened his mouth, ready to snap with a biting retort, but before he could, you stepped in front of him.  

The beast had fully stretched, wrapping its long, serpentine torso around your neck like a scarf, purring contentedly as it nuzzled into you. Alastor’s eyes flickered between the creature and your smiling face, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to shift.  

That smile – your smile – he'd been chasing it for so long. And now that it was here, he wasn’t sure what to do with the flutter of emotions tangled up inside him.  

“Alastor, if he causes any trouble, I’ll-” you faltered, eyes scanning the floor, searching for words before meeting his gaze. “I’ll deal with the consequences. So, c-could you give him a chance? I promise I’ll take good care of him, we-we'll stay out of trouble!” Your voice wavered, eyes pleading, as your once hopeful smile slowly began to shrink.  

Alastor’s eyes flicked to the red-furred beast lounging lazily around your neck. The creature had been nothing but a nuisance, sneaking into his stock of food and leaving foul messes all over his bayou. The obvious answer was no. It was so clear in his mind – he could already see himself punting the cat-like creature far across the pentagram, dusting his hands of the whole ordeal.  

But as your smile withered, and your eyes searched his, slowly realizing the inevitable refusal, something tugged at his chest. That sinking look in your eyes...it ate away at him.  

The obvious answer was no.  

But instead... 

“I swear,” he began, his tone sharp, deliberate. “If that thing causes any hint of trouble in my room, particularly, I’m going to eat that cat.” He enunciated each word, his grin widening as he flashed his sharp teeth, shooting a glare at the foul creature. In response, the creature mockingly stuck its tongue out at him, which only further soured his mood.  

What surprised him was how your face lit up – how your eyes widened, shimmering with joy, and how your once solemn expression now blossomed into something so bright it seemed to light up the entire room. You grabbed his hands in your excitement, shaking them up and down with a bubbling laughter that filled the air like music.  

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” you exclaimed, laughter spilling from your lips like sunshine.  

Alastor stood frozen, utterly stunned. He stared at you, his grinning mask forced on as he took in the sight of your laughter, the warmth of your smile. It was as if something inside him had cracked open – he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to see you like this, to hear that laughter, to witness the unfiltered joy in your face.  

His heart pounded against his rib cage, thrumming in his ears like a chaotic rhythm, and for a moment, he was paralyzed by the strange, unfamiliar sensation washing over him.  

How had you managed to convince him to take care of that beast? That thing would undoubtedly invade every corner of your life... and, by extension, his.  

He couldn’t understand it.  

Was he ill? Dying? 

But then you called his name, your voice soft, sweet, still laced with that bright smile that now adorned your face as if it always belonged there. And in that instant, he knew. With dawning horror, he realized what was happening.  

His tongue felt heavy, his chest unbearably tight, and his left eye twitched erratically. He took a giant step backward, trying to ground himself, then another, and another, until he melted into the shadows, disappearing without a word.  

Alastor realized, with a deep, unsettling dread, that he fancied you.  

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[karola25]

[chaoticace2005]

Vox’s Rivalry with Alastor: Need for Control

The whole thing with Vox is control. He’s the embodiment of modern technology and surveillance. The privacy issues we face? In Hell that’s all Vox. And when you think of it like that his whole rivalry with Alastor makes so much sense on a logical level.

Things Vox Controls:

-The public: constant surveillance, brainwashing, and further control over media content they consume. He doesn’t just control what people watch but he watches people.

-This partners (to a degree): we see this with how he interacts with Valentino. He isn’t the one in CHARGE, but the thing with Valentino is he tends to be very explosive, and Vox is able to direct the blast in a direction that won’t harm him (offers to bring up employees for Val to kill so he won’t make a public display about Angel)

-Himself: We see how he puts so much energy on to be publicity ready and have a smile on his face. Talking very much like a businessman or politician. He acts completely different in front of camera.

Even his smile. Both Vox and Alastor use smiling as a mechanism to hide their true selves. But with Alastor it works as a way to keep people guessing, to inspire a level of fear oftentimes.

Vox isn’t like that. He puts on a fake, plastic smile. Alastor tries to make himself off putting on purpose, Vox doesn’t. He does it to keep them complacent. Alastor smiles so people won’t figure him out. Vox smiles so people trust him enough not to try.

We see that the second Alastor is brought up that smile vanishes. His self control is gone. Throughout the song we see him lose more control over his public persona, getting more visibly angry, while at the same time the public turns more to Alastor. Meanwhile Alastor also butters his partners up and publicly announces to the world that “no, Vox can’t control me. Trust me, he tried.”

Every single thing Vox controls is threatened when Alastor is involved. Vox has no way to control him.

-Methods he uses on the public? Surveillance and media? Won’t work because Alastor can’t be captured on camera well and hates modern technology. Brainwashing the public? Won’t work if they’re paying more attention to Alastor than him.

-His partners? Alastor declined his partnership and is willing to poke at the relationship between the Vees. All the Vees carry some weight in the relationship, but Alastor could make Vox seem obsolete. He’s able to control their public perception, yes- but one of them could easily go rogue and blow that to bits.

-Himself? Demolished. Gone. He has a public breakdown. He glitches out. Fully cries at the end of the song. Maybe it’s the fear of what Alastor could do, maybe it’s their past, maybe it’s Vox’s weird hate boner, maybe it’s unrequited feelings. Who knows. All logic and control goes out the window when Alastor is involved.

And the thing Alastor seems very much the same. He hates being under someone’s leash. He needs to be in control. When he’s reminded he’s not he lashes out. The first time we really see their masks break is when they’re reminded of the fact there is someone out there that is a threat to the control the have. The “What did you say?” they both do before lashing out.

I’m interested in seeing how they’ll interact in the future. Because they really do seem like two sides of the same coin. The only difference is we know who Vox is afraid of, we don’t fully know who Alastor is of yet. They need power over others, but more than that they need power over themselves. (Alastor being controlled by whatever the deal he made was. While Vox is controlled by his emotions towards Alastor. And both being controlled by their fear.)

( @gabrielsbubblegumbitch I’m curious on your thoughts? I’ve read some of your analyses 1’s would love feedback.)

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Some more smol fluff.

You and Alastor sitting together in a chair by the fire both reading the same book together, your legs draped over Alastor's lap, he notices your eyes beginning to droop, and your head thunks heavily onto his shoulder.

Alastor starts reading out loud for you, your mind and body lulled by his lovely tones and animated reading habits.

You nuzzle his chest and his smile softens, he kisses the top of your head fondly breaking his reading rhythm and you stir slightly.

You: "Love you." Mumbling.

Alastor's hand stills and he closes the book. He eyes widening.

Alastor: "Say that again."

You are still half asleep and not really registering your surroundings or what just happened, not the frantic nervous energy of the deer demon under you.

You: "Mmm, love you, woaaa."

You gasp as you're suddenly scooped up, your eyes finding open as his mouth crashed against yours feverishly.

Startled but nonetheless enthusiastic you respond, your tongue meeting his as the world spins and your suddenly down on a plush mattress, pinned under his lithe, toned body, he peppers your mouth and face with kisses.

Finally Alastor sits back on his haunches looking at your flushed state and puffy lips.

Alastor: "Say it again, Dear?"

This time he's more earnest, insecure.

You have woken more fully now, body still tired and Alastor joins you his body weighing you down heavily, nose brushing yours.

You: "I-I love you Alastor."

Alastor kisses you languidly again in response.

Alastor: "I love you too."

[sugoi-writes]

I feel like Alastor would never walk in while you're indecent/in disarray physically... he knows how to knock, afterall... BUT--

I can see Alastor playing things off well enough. He's a gentleman, so he avoids eye contact. You feel his coat drapping over your shoulders as he rambles about something.

An incoming meeting, the next group activity, or simply what he had for breakfast that day. Mundane things that can absolutely wait... but he's such a Chatty Cathy! If Rosie isn't around or too busy, then you simply MUST hear him out about his struggles. Your clothing be damned, it's simply TOO important.

Much like with Charlie, he sits or lays directly across your bed, like a tween girl at a sleep over, his feet kicking in the air. He's relaxed. His eyes are half lidded. Your room may as well be his second bedroom. He doesn't mind making himself at home even while you're frantically trying to cover yourself or throwing things his way.

A classic case of "Hello dear, I was meaning to ask you about-- yes, I'm aware that you're undressed, why are you screaming? *covers you in his jacket* AHEM. Anyway--"

---

However, if you're closer than friends...

Alastor lets himself in, unprompted. Usually via shadow. Unlike before, eye contact is intentionally made, lest you get the idea his eyes are wondering. And if you relax enough, you may actually catch them doing so. He'd help himself to your closet, picking something out for you to wear.

"Oh Heavens, no, you are not going out like that! Here, why don't you try this instead? Red is positively RADIANT on you!"

Alastor would tut and force you to do little poses and spins, shifting you through multiple outfits until he's satisfied. But, of course, if you put your foot down, he won't stop you. That just means that tearing it OFF of you will be much more satisfying.

Alastor will, more than likely, forget why he entered in the first place. Or, better yet, he may not even have a reason to! He just wants to be near you, or he wants to kill time before he has to be productive. You are his one and only source of rest and relaxation. You help his brain disconnect with the world, and help him let his hair down (metaphorically).

Though Rosie and others are more than capable of helping him pass the time, he'd like to spend it with you, especially if your own time is limited. And, if you have no where to be... he may just find a way for you to keep your clothes off a little longer.

Don't mind him if there's a lingering touch here, or if your laces are tied a little too loose... he can't help himself. He'd much rather see you with nothing at all. For your sake, you better hope he isn't feeling too frisky... Because once something comes off by his hands... it make be hard or straight up impossible to be worn again.

[onehelluvahotel]

A legit, real life picture of me watching the Hazbin Finale, thinking this motherfucker had DIED 🙃🙃🙃

[PHOTO ID: a screenshot from the finale of Hazbin Hotel Finale showing the radio demon, Alastor, looking off towards the camera and gripping his head, his red eyes wide and a worried/scared smile on his face.]

[micoz-field-of-dreamz]

heres. alastor with poc features i hope i did him right

if theres anything i should change lmk :]