#rest in fucking pieces for Alastors pride

[hellsrings-radio-synz-777]

[hazbinshusk]

husk x afab!reader. when the weather in pride turns suddenly antarctic, the residents of the hotel are left shivering and scrambling for better heating. you and husk however decide to sequester yourselves in your room, sharing personal space for the sake of body heat out of the prying eyes of your friends. and, well, can anyone blame you when things get a little... physical?

my dear @jazziesanura requested some cold weather cuddlefucking, and while I'm sweating to death down in aus, I'm more than happy to indulge my mutuals :) 2.3k.

featuring: a lot of fluff and smut, penetrative sex, alcohol.

“Oh, before I forget; I’ve got to call my ex later,”  you say idly, crossing the bedroom with two heavy-bottomed glasses of whiskey in hand. Husk quirks an eyebrow up at you curiously, a soft mrrp escaping him. He’s sitting with his back against the headboard, his hat resting on top of the lamp on your bedside table. “We’re getting back together.”

Husk’s brow furrows even as he accepts one of the glasses from you, claws making a quiet tink against it. “What?”

You smile, nodding towards the ice-sheened window. “Because Hell has officially frozen over.”

Husk snorts a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Cute.”

“Thank you,” you reply perkily, taking a sip of your drink. You can’t taste the notes of ‘green apple and caramel’ the bottle had boasted, but it was still better than the acetone-tasting crap Husk usually drank. It burns in your throat but unfortunately does little to actually warm you. The sudden temperature shift from the usually balmy days of Hell to what was basically Antarctic had the whole Hotel on lockdown while Charlie desperately shivered her way through trying to source extra heating outside the fireplace in the lobby. You were pretty sure Alastor had one in his quarters too, but he wasn’t going to volunteer it to the other residents, so most of them were gathered downstairs. Aside from the radio demon, you were pretty sure only you and Husk were the only ones who’d opted to stay upstairs. “I thought so.”

“’s a low bar, doll,” Husk tells you, finishing his drink and setting the glass aside. He holds a paw out to you invitingly and you take it readily, climbing across the mattress to settle in his lap. You straddle his thighs, your hand guiding his paw to your waist before sliding up his arm to take his shoulder. In open defiance of the cold – or maybe because his fur is just that thick – the only sartorial nod Husk has made to the change in the weather is a thick, bottle-green scarf wrapped around his neck. “Everythin’ you do is cute.”

“Fuck, you’re a charmer,” you sigh, and you giggle as Husk bumps his nose affectionately against yours. You rub your fingers through the fur at the back of his head, teasing at the base of his ear. “And a liar.”

“Degenerate piece of shit like me? A liar?” Husk’s voice is muffled slightly as he brushes his lips over the corner of your jaw. You smile as his whiskers tickle at the side of your throat. “Who would’a thought it?”

“Hush, you,” you admonish lightly, cupping his cheeks in your hands and tilting his face up to better meet your eye. Husk’s expression is soft, amused and affectionate in a way that might just be reserved for you when no one else can see. You smooth your thumbs over his cheeks gently. “Keep talking crap about my favourite bartender and I will have to kick your ass.”

“Shudder the thought,” Husk smirks, letting you bring his face up to meet yours in a kiss. One paw squeezes your waist, the other finding your thigh beneath the robe you have wrapped securely around yourself, and a contented little trill sounds against your lips as he lets the kiss linger. You brush your lips again in a few more brief, gentle kisses before you pull away again.

“Speaking of shuddering…” you feel a shiver wrack through you as the cold winds of outside seem to find a new crack in the walls to slip through. The chill of it seems to wrap itself around your very bones, and you huddle closer to the cat petulantly. In response, Husk smiles sympathetically, leaning up to nuzzle his face into the curve of your neck. He bumps his forehead against the underside of your jaw and rubs it there in a very catlike gesture you know he’d deny if you mentioned it. You hum as the cold touch of his nose skims across your collarbone. “Since when can Hell even get cold?”

Husk sighs. “Rarely happens. This is the… third time? Since I’ve been down here. Blows over in a few days, and we’re back to roastin’ all nice and crispy the way the Big Man intended.”

When a shudder runs through you again you groan in annoyance, and Husk smirks, opening his arms and wings up to you. “C’mere, you big baby.”

“Not a baby,” you pout childishly, but lean into all the same. Husk chuckles as you wrap your arms around his middle and bury your frozen fingers in the warm fur of his back, jerking away from your touch when you find his skin beneath it. You giggle, nuzzling your face into his collarbone and inhaling the warm-spice and whiskey scent of him.

“Not a baby,” he agrees, kissing the top of your head. “Jus’ a bit of a bellyacher.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Husk laughs, the sound rich and soft in your ear, and he curls his wings more tightly around you to better envelop you in his own warmth.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You lose track of time, wrapped up in Husk’s arms, lulled into near sleep by the softness of his fur, the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. A quiet purr is rolling through him, and when your legs begin to cramp from kneeling over his lap for so long, Husk gently rearranges the two of you so you’re laying side by side under the blankets, your face once more buried in his chest so you can feel the purr against your cheek.

Husk strokes careful claws slowly through your hair and down your back, his muzzle tucked against the crown of your head. He still struggles to understand what exactly you see in an old, washed-up addict like him, but it’s moments like this when he can swear, he almost feels as though the weight of that infernal, invisible chain around his throat isn’t quite there anymore.

The bartender trails his paw lower, smoothing over your hip and down to where your robe has ridden up over your thigh. His claws tickle at the sensitive skin there, and you hum a groan sleepily into his chest. Husk smiles to himself, the expression catching when he feels your own hand trail down his stomach to hook your fingers in the waistband of his pants.

“Careful, sweetness.” he rumbles into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “You know what you’re doin’ there?”

“Think I remember how it goes,” you mumble into his fur, fumbling briefly with the button fastening his slacks closed. “’Sides… you started it.”

“Did I now?” Husk’s eyes flutter closed and you feel him exhale heavily against your hair as you slip your hand into his pants and cup your palm against his cock. He’d be almost ashamed to admit that he’s half-hard already, if you weren’t apparently so eager despite the cold. His paw tightens reflexively on your thigh at your touch. “Oh, doll… thank fuck your hands are warm.”

You giggle into his chest, squeezing him teasingly and thrilling at the way his shudders in response. You feel his cock twitch, and you wrap your fingers around it, letting your fingertips trail teasingly over the head of it. Husk groans, low in the back of his throat. “Suddenly all this fur isn’t such a bad thing, is it?”

“Wouldn’t push it that fa—ah…” Husk breaks off with a light moan as you begin to stroke him, squeezing at the base of his cock. He exhales a smile against your hair, nosing at your hairline until you tilt your head back and let him brush his lips against your forehead. “Cheeky thing you are…”

“Husk…” you murmur, tilting your head back further, stretching up to dust kisses over the underside of his chin. “Touch me.”

Husk smiles, bumping his nose against yours. “Finally someone in this fuckin’ place gives me somethin’ I wanna do.”

You laugh as he brings his lips to yours, his kiss sweet and his lips deliciously warm as he echoes you with a muffled laugh of his own. His claws glide up your thigh to caress the curve of your ass, squeezing the muscle appreciatively. You smile into his kiss, quickening your hand slightly, teasing your thumb over the head of his cock. Husk’s teeth catch your bottom lip, and the brief flare of pain thrills you.

“Go slow, baby,” he whispers, kissing your cheek, the bridge of your nose. “I wanna savour it.”

Cheeks pink with the cold and with his words, you nod, eager in a way that Husk almost finds innocent. It charms him, and when you hook your thigh up over his hip he wraps a possessive paw around it. When you push the underwear you wear under your robe aside and guide his cock to slide up against you, Husk kisses you again, groaning into your mouth as he flicks just warm, how wet you are for him already. You whimper as you feel the length of him slide against your clit, the barbs of his cock rising as he reaches full arousal. They tickle at the nerves there; a texture that makes your eyes roll back behind their lids as your excitement grows.

Husk cups your cheek, brushing his lips over yours again before pulling back. He watches your face intently as he presses the head of his cock into you, pupils blown wide as he watches your lips part in a soundless gasp at the feel of him slowly, slowly filling you. You hand finds purchase on his shoulder as though you’re anchoring yourself to him, to the way he feels moving into you, and Husk moves to kiss your forehead again, murmuring so quietly with his lips pressed to your skin that you can’t make out all the words.

“That’s it… feels… fuck…” his claws ghost against the side of your throat. “…good girl for me… that’s it, baby…”

Husk fucks you so, so slowly, each press of his hips into your accompanied by a soft sigh that fans across the top of your face and makes your lashes flutter. You run your fingers through the fur of his chest, reach up to carefully unwind the scarf that’s still wrapped around his neck. Husk lets you toss it aside, smiles as you replace where it rested against the side of his neck with your palm. You rub your fingers through the fur there, down to the massage the nape of his neck and between his shoulders. Husk kisses you again and you let the touch linger, your other hand – the one of the arm trapped beneath you – finds his paw and wraps your fingers around it. The bartender squeezes your hand back, kissing the spot between your brows tenderly.

“Husk…” you breathe his name into his neck, voice catching as he adjusts the angle of his hips. “Fuck…”

Every slide of his cock stretches you wonderfully, every drag of those barbs against your flesh sending sparks up through your spine to curl inside your belly. Husk keeps growling low, chanting your name like some kind of benediction as you squeeze around him. You hook your leg higher on his hip, pressing yourself closer, and you let out a curse, high-pitched and breathy, as it brings him deeper into you.

The heat of Husk’s body, his breath, his cock inside you, is such a contrast to the chill still clinging to your cheeks, and you nuzzle further into his chest as Husk fucks you, nice and slow and agonizingly deep, bottoming out inside you with every thrust. His claws tighten where they clutch at your waist, sliding around to squeeze at your ass, and you gasp into his fur as the move encourages you to stretch wider for him.

“Fuck, baby…” Husk groans into your hairline, voice muted as though he doesn’t want to break the space between you. “Fuck, you feel so good… feel so fuckin’… Christ, you’re gorgeous…”

That tone of voice, those words, they never fail to make you flush, and you tilt your head back and press a kiss to his chin. Husk meets your eye, ghosting a paw up over your side to brush hair away from your face, and he kisses you again.

This kiss lingers all the way through until your orgasm rocks through you, your breath catching in a quiet, shaky moan. Husk watches your face with an almost enraptured look on his, the softest of smiles pulling at the edge of his lips as you shudder in his embrace. He dusts kisses over your face, ghosting his lips over your cheeks, your brow, your nose and always back to your lips as he chases his own release. And when you tease your nails through the fur over his hip he lets out a moan of his own and spill himself into you with one more long, deep thrust.

“So good for me…” he croons, nosing at your temple until you meet his lips again breathlessly. When he breaks the kiss, he doesn’t pull away, speaking softly against your lips. “Love you, sweetness.”

You smile, squeezing the hand he still has wrapped in yours. Husk returns the expression, catching your other hand and lifting it to his face, pressing a kiss to the back of your fingers. Your voice catches a little when you whisper back:

“I love you, too.”

[hazelfoureyes]

Fuck Joke Around and Find Out (Part 2)

Part 1

Everyone say thank you to @dontfuckbutimfab for requesting this sequel with their donation! It very literally would have never happened otherwise bbs! f you enjoy this story (and can afford it) I still ask you donate and let the event organizers (like @fraugwinska ) know you did so we can keep track 💖 even 5$ is a lot, ya know?

A grey ace clueless reader thinks she finally knows what’s going on (narrator: she does not) when Alastor propositions they explore her interest by way of tormenting a stalker of his with some personal broadcasting she agrees… to help a friend, ya know?

A Piece of Cake

「Warnings/Promises:Ace Alastor x Ace AFAB reader, thigh fucking, voyeurism real or imagined, metaphors galore, not a food fetish I stg guys, grey ace, vaginal fingering, making out, smut divider」

smut begins when you see this divider

MDNI OR I STG YOULL BE LOCKED OUTTA THE HOTEL 🔐 🫵🏼🏨

You wished you’d been drinking. It’d have dampened the embarrassment of the situation. You’d never gone into those kinds of interactions with Alastor … raw. Alcohol had always been the lubricant that let you play without any guards up. 

It would be cruel and unfair to call it naïveté that you followed Alastor to his radio tower. It’d be accurate though to call you an idiot for not having noticed the shift in your friendship since the couch incident. Or realized how obvious you were being about your own concerns.

A movie night seemed cute when Charlie suggested it, but soon you and Alastor found yourself in common awkward situation. Charlie leaned into Vaggie’s side, lips bruising the curve of her ear. Husk’s hands wandered over to Angel’s thighs, thrown over his lap intimately. Niffty…Well Niffty couldn’t sit still long enough for an entire movie so she came and went with bursts of energy. 

When people paired up, even if already decidedly in pairs, it left you and Alastor in that uncomfortable position of being unlikely fifth and sixth wheels. 

So he recommended leaving, and you happily followed his lead. 

Alastor sat in his chair, small and wooden and swiveling side to side to his amusement, and you leaned against the desk of his studio. You’d never actually entered the tower before. No one had that you knew of. Taking in as much detail as you could you noticed equipment seemed more modern than you’d realized. Perhaps the 1920s wasn’t that long ago after all. 

“You turn all of this on and your voice carries across the ring?” You asked, gesturing casually with your open palm to the large metal boxes with dials and knobs and glass bulb lights. 

“It amplifies my signal, yes. Not an inch of the pride ring can hide from my broadcast.” His everpresent smile seemed a bit more smug as he said it. “Untethered to Vox’s power grid, there's nothing between me and my adoring listeners!”

You could only nod. Adoring wasn’t the word most would use, but you thought it was funny he saw it that way. 

With the room so silent, the air so still, you could hear a sigh and his clothes rustle as he leaned onto the desk with his elbows. Looking up to you from the side, his smile tugged to the left. 

“Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding my touch.”

You choked on your own saliva, eliciting a howl of laughter from Alastor. “Oh, now that’s a telling reaction! You know, normally you are very comfortable with me. I dare say you’ve rested your head on my shoulder at least twice. You’ve set your feet on my lap many times during morning readings. You never jump like the others when I come up behind you, brushing against your back. Until recently.” Alastor and his chair moved a little closer to your side, your eyes facing away and out the window. You knew it was important to hear what he was saying, but your mind was reeling trying to summon an excuse for your change. 

“Sooo, why now, when I touch you,” his elbow slid out to push into your thigh, your knees knocking together in a jerk reaction, “do you seem so skittish?”

Alastor could hear your heart pounding in your chest. The rush of blood to your neck and cheeks could be seen even in the red and hazy light of hell. 

Why?

You opened your mouth to lie, his hand coming to grip the side of the table between your thighs, “I’ll know if you’re being truthful, doll.”

Now with a very dry tongue and a small bit of sweat across your brow, you let your head hang low.

The truth then. 

“Last time,” You didn’t see Alastor’s eyes widen in excitement as you began to speak. Surely you would say something deeply uncomfortable for you and that was always a little fun for him. “I really liked kissing. It wasn’t just playing around for me, so, I thought it’d be,” this was going to sound presumptuous, “misleading to get into that situation again.”

Large red and black ears turned inward and down as his back straightened at the confession.

“I’d never kissed like that before. I always thought kissing led to touching which led to sex. An unavoidable series of events. So I avoid kissing. Well, avoided it. I didn’t think I’d get so into it.” Before then, you’d only ever mimed making out and being dramatically horny with Alastor. Maybe a mouth on your neck, or your hands in his hair, but never anything more. But it happened so naturally, the alcohol letting you get more caught in the nice sensations than in the lack of desire to do much more. If he wanted to mock the others again, in the safety of your shared disinterest, you couldn’t be sure you’d keep from reaching out for more. Once it started, it was good. 

So it was best to not start, atleast not with him. It felt like breaking an unspoken agreement between you both. A silent ‘don’t take this seriously’ between breaths. “I probably shouldn’t joke like that anymore, since for you it’s just messing around and making fun of others.”

Alastor was a little taken aback. He liked kissing very much, and getting his unsuspecting friend worked up was entertaining. And you’d seemed to be enjoying his company when you were shaking beneath him. Was that so wrong? His head cocked to the side. “Was that your first kiss then?”

“First like that. Like, with–,” you grimaced, “tongues.” His chortle cut you a little, “It felt good! All of it. But, so does listening to music and, and,” you searched the ceiling for help, “eating cake.” You frowned as soon as you had said it. Cake? But it was hard to say it without being crude. All your needs were met. Of all the avenues of feeling good, why exert the effort into anything different. 

Alastor hummed, “Shocking to hear you’d never had more than a peck.”

“Well, that stuff always leads to more.”

He tutted, “That’s a little naive of you to say. And sometimes more can be nice. If the mood strikes. If the right partner is near. With intention and a little effort…” His fingers flattened against their place on the desk, long nails coming to barely make contact with your inner thigh. You didn’t notice, to his slight annoyance, “Why do you think you solely decide how far my …” a devious look crossed his face, “playing goes? When I want to stop?”

Talks of kissing and touching always led to the assumed inevitability of sex for people, you thought. Was Alastor thinly speaking about it too? 

How far….it stuck between your ears like a stray hair in your mouth. You weren’t experienced enough to know the distance between A and B, just that kissing was where it began and full penetration was where it ended. Right? Was he….offering a short trip between the two, you wondered. 

Your silence weighed his ears down further. “Though, if the idea of me touching you like I did, or more, is something you detest, I can respect that.” You groaned, did you have to close the door on everything? Was there no grey space you could live in now and then? You hadn’t had time to think about this before the conversation was already starting around you. 

“I’m not a fan of sweets but on certain occasions I can enjoy a piece of cake. I know not everyone feels the same. I only went as far as I did because I thought we were of like minds in that aspect.” He added and you could tell by the tone he was also finishing the topic on his part. Alastor thought the safety net of your mutual disinterest in sex as a need provided could allow him to drop his walls a bit and relax more than usual. Knowing neither of you were going into the interaction expecting it to lead to sex let him enjoy things like heavy petting without concern. In truth he’d avoided comfortable touches like kissing quite a long time ago by then for the same reasons you had. His ears struggled to right themselves again under the weight of the idea he’d misunderstood. 

But he wasn’t one to show his sincere disappointment. The hand between your parted legs left and he sat back in his chair with a creak. Without meeting your desperate and confused stare, he began adjusting his bowtie and straightening his jacket. Alastor leaned back with a cross of his legs and tossed his microphone from the left hand to the right. The look in your eyes was akin to a turning sea. It was visible to him that you were struggling with articulating what you wanted. And that was almost as fun as your little quivers when he pressed you down onto his lap before. 

He wasn’t one to break another’s boundaries unjustly, but he reveled in watching someone come undone from his actions. Until you were clear in what you wanted and didn’t want, he was going to enjoy making you panic over it. 

“I like cake.” It sounded stupider outloud than it did in your head. You felt stupider when his characteristic Ha! followed. 

“Is this conversation easier for you if we discuss this in terms of food, then?”

You nodded eagerly. For the love of Lucifer, yes, please. 

A wicked grin spread from cheek to cheek as Alastor twirled his staff, “Do you have an appetite, dear?”

With another whine your head fell back now from its place hanging between your inward turned shoulders, “Not– usually, no. But we were already there, and you….” your hands came to hide your face, why did you say food?? “Made me…have a little sweet tooth. If someone puts a little piece of cake in my hands, ya know…why not, I guess. Just a couple bites even.” You were actually talking about cake at that point, but a flicker of the singular lamp on the table caught your eye and reminded you the conversation was not about desserts.

“Would you like me to test your mood? I can stop when you’re full.” Alastor bit back his own noise, the statement doing something to him he hadn’t anticipated. 

Your knees pulled up to your chest as you curled into a ball atop his desk, “But why? We just…start doing stuff? And go from there?” 

Hadn’t you fled the common area to avoid similar things?

Or had you left to just not be on display like before?

Alastor’s red eyes looked around the room, your form standing out in the otherwise dank setting. You needed a why? That was fair. He could manage that. Your reactions inspired a very gentle cruelty in him that he wanted to indulge. He could put in the effort of manufacturing a situation that let him do so. A reason to make you gasp like a fish out of water by putting you in situations that very much took you out of your element. 

“Would you like to help me with something then? I have a stalker of sorts who’d be dismayed to hear something illicit.” From your sitting fetal position you heard him stand, a small sound of a metallic click following. “I could just huff and puff into my microphone, but it’d be more effective to make him think I’m spending some quality time with a paramore.”

Tentatively, you dropped your legs. “You want to broadcast our sounds?”

“Just to him. Don’t worry.” His charm was rolling off of his tall frame, dark eyes and yellow teeth not dampening it an ounce. “What do you say? I won’t go any further than you see fit.” He saw your eyes flit around in consideration, “You’re just helping out a friend bully a creep.”

Well, when he put it like that. As soon as you let yourself meet his gaze, he turned on a switch without breaking eye contact with you and the broadcast equipment lit up with a soft green glow. 

Your body relaxed. No pressure, just letting yourself get carried away again for a bit for the sake of helping Alastor in his usual job as tormentor. That seemed normal to you. That seemed understandable. 

Humming, Alastor closed the distance between you and handed his staff over, “Hold this between your legs, will you dear?” It was cold, you could feel it through the fabric of your pants as your thighs held it in place. He waved his fingers to show they were free before setting his palms down on either side of you on the desk. “May I?” His face inched closer to yours, coming to stop with his nose a few inches from yours. He saw your complexion darken again, a rush of blood to your face. “Just a kiss between friends. A little swipe of naughty fingers through the icing.”

You’d never be able to see a cake in a normal light again. 

When his lips reached yours your eyes fluttered shut, you knew it was polite to close them. It was just as he had said; a peck. A little kiss, chaste and gentle. A second, a little firmer. A third, lips pressing into yours strong enough you had to reciprocate with a nudging of your lips into his to keep from falling back. Your shoulders relaxed. The pacing was good for you. 

Each parting made the tiniest sound. 

“A lick.” You heard his voice float from the radio on the table to your right, just beside the closed door. You noticed the lock had been turned. The click you’d heard earlier. But you couldn’t dwell on that for long,  immediately following the ring of his voice you felt his mouth open as he parted and returned with a soft tongue swiping across the seam of your lips. His head turned to let him get closer, and you followed suit in the other direction. 

Already your mind was floating aimlessly in your skull as his tongue pressed in and licked at your own shy muscle before retreating again. You braved a peek just to see him looking back at you, heavy and hooded eyes seemingly waiting for yours. His smirk could be felt against your skin for the briefest moment before his tongue was pushing against yours. 

You liked kissing. You’d be happy to do this for hours if your lips could maintain feeling long enough. 

One of his hands found your waist and slid behind your back. The action reminded you that you had arms and hands of your own. This part was easy, you’d played it before. Nails scratched down his scalp through his undercut like you’d done before. Like you’d seen others do in movies and open spaces.  Alastor’s deep moan in response shook your throat and made you whine. 

More sounds. That was the goal. With knitted brows you disengaged slightly and bit his bottom lip. You gave it a tug as you pulled away, only daring to meet his stare once you’d let go. There it was, the current of good feelings that swept you up once you actually got in the water. Quickly it took you out at the ankles and soon you found yourself floating with the rapidly moving events to whatever end they dumped you out at. First it was your mind going soft but now as you found the resolve to look directly into his eyes your entire self was atop the stream. 

You didn’t recognize the look he gave then. A flash of black, a spin of his pupils nearly missed by you. Had the room gotten darker? 

“What’s that face?” You asked quietly, the space between your lips so small. 

“Hunger.” Was the response, his hand jerking you closer to him. Your ass was now slightly off the edge. 

How dare you be so brave as to bite the overlord. How very dare you be so quick a learner. 

He watched your throat as you gulped at the reply. You’d been a hiding little ball-of-sinner just a moment ago but now you seemed so comfortable in his arms. Was that from your friendship or had you already grown accustomed to this kind of kissing, he wondered. 

His free hand gripped your face and turned it to the left, his breath soon blanketing your right neck and shoulder. Warm and wet, his tongue slid up from collarbone to jaw. The air quickly cooled the saliva left behind and made you shudder.

That was better, Alastor thought. Your little shakes pleased him. They excited him in the way he wanted now. 

Renewed kisses, his mouth hot and open leaving a trail back down your neck. When his nose brushed against the shell of your ear you remembered Vaggie’s shy smile when Charlie kissed her there. You knew how she felt now, able to decipher that soft expression it gave her. It tickled but a little bit of electricity sparked down from your belly button to your center.

Any ideas of softness were banished when his body made contact with yours. For a moment, the microphone staff slid between your legs before his right hand caught it and pulled it free. In it’s place his own hips slotted between your knees and pressed into your core. You drew in a quick breath as you felt his erection settle against you. 

He rolled his hips and huffed a breathy laugh at your body jumping from the friction. This felt like fucking, you thought. Surely. 

Another move into you, the pressure of his cock even through so many layers was taking away your breath. The blood pounding in your ears was partly nerves for every unknown second coming but largely from the rush of his scent. You’d turned your head forward again and looked down to see where you were connected now. Unlike the kisses, he wasn’t pulling away. His hair tickled your cheek as he began to nip and suck at the skin just above your collarbone. He smelled like peat moss and sea salt. And… and… you took a deep breath in through your nose; a faint scent of magnolia.

Odd, there were no magnolia trees in hell.

“Smelling me? That’s … new.” His grin widened against your body, your little sniff paired with the heat roiling up from your chest making him snicker. Your body reacted so honestly and with so little shame. 

He made you choke on your retort by sliding your ass further off the desk, your tailbone taking the brunt of your weight. His left hand supported you as he held you tighter against him.

“I think you’re being too quiet. He’s not hearing you well…,” Alastor pressed his lips into your ear as he said it. From head to center Alastor was monopolizing your senses. The staff was momentarily set down beside you, your eyes following it.

You noticed as it clinked on the table that none of the needles seemed to turn or move on the various gadgets supposedly broadcasting your interaction. But you did hear a faint noise from the radio. 

“Ah,” you hadn’t meant to say it out loud, as it was just a sound of clarity hitting you. He wasn’t broadcasting anything to anyone. It was looping through his personal radio.

Your head whipped back to him, your nose hitting his as he leaned down. His left hand was on the button of your jeans.

“A taste?” A question that was nearly more breath than words as Alastor said it.

You looked from him to his hand and back up.

“For your stalker?” You asked.

He grinned and you were sure he knew. With a rise of his brows he seemed to answer positively. 

Every point of contact was a new place you found yourself unraveling. Another?

You nodded, biting your lip as he popped the button open and wedged his hand between your panties and your skin.

Before you could focus on the fact you hadn’t expected him to go straight to skin on skin you were shimmying your hips and leaning back on a palm to give better access. 

Hot fingers slid roughly against your folds before one pressed forward and swiped up. For the briefest moment he dipped into you. Your body jerked forward at the intrusion.

The exploratory finger returned and pressed in. Concerns of balance flew away as your hands shot to his shoulders and gripped. You needed some nonverbal way to express how you felt. There was already so much humming in your veins that couldn’t be communicated any other way. You expected the obvious, an in and out motion. But instead he crooked his finger and pressed against something that gave a little to the pressure. Your breath hitched, it wasn’t fast or hard but the repeated action had an exponential reaction. The pleasure was building upon itself. 

And then he stopped.

Alastor was watching you pant and stare nearly unblinkingly at his arm and despite the growing fog of his arousal he stopped.

When the repeated stroking of your spongy g-spot ended the growing pleasure faded away. You wanted it back. 

Despite your dry lips you stretched your spine and kissed him, immediately licking at his lips for permission to enter. Kissing started it, kissing could revive it.

Tongues pressed together, slipping over each other as your kisses became sloppy. Kissing wasn’t sexual in nature, nor could you call the relatively gross sounding concept inherently romantic. Yet, with your nails digging into his coat and hips grinding down onto his hand, the feeling of his tongue behind your teeth was making you clench around his finger for more.

He gave as your pussy was begging, the petting deep within you starting again. With a gasp your kiss broke, your forehead coming to rest on his cheek as you honed in on the feeling of Alastor moving between your legs.

With a shrug of his shoulders he began slinking off his coat. Hurriedly you helped, not knowing what that meant but trusting it would lead to more of the same. You pulled the coat down both shoulders and only after one arm was free did it dawn on you both he’d have to remove his hand from your pants to fully take off the coat.

Alastor sighed through his nose at the sensation of his erection straining against his pants. Your upset sounds at the loss of his hand didn’t help the twitching. Reluctantly, he completely removed himself from your body.

He dropped the coat back on the chair and returned to your open arms, up and waiting for him. 

You both moved together, mouths reconnected as he crashed back into you. His hand was rushed, panties folding and catching at first on his nails before he managed to get past the barrier and return to your heat. 

Alastor’s mouth opened to swallow your first moan. His eyes downcast and focused on your lips.

“Don’t waste your pretty voice.” He whispered, bringing the microphone back to rest against your cheek as a second finger pushed into you. 

You felt full, but it didn’t hurt. The stretch at your entrance was uncomfortable but only sharpened the pleasure. 

His mouth returned to your neck when you let your head fall back. Eyes closed you could feel the rest of your body melt away. You existed only where his body met yours.

The microphone against your face was cool to the touch and grounded you a little back to your surroundings. 

“You,” you choked out, “you said he was your stalker. Your noises—,” you tore one of your hands from his shoulders and reached down between you both. “He’d want those.”  Your hand slid down the impression of his cock and held softly onto the round flesh at the base. “Husk did this to Angel once —- it seems so low but…” Alastor’s face was hidden by his bangs but when you gently squeezed and rubbed at his balls and the base of his cock his shoulders trembled. “Does it feel good?” When he lifted his head to kiss you again you moved the microphone to his mouth, “Tell him.”

Your boldness affected you both but in different ways. You avoided direct eye contact and Alastor hissed against a moan. He had been hoping to see you as overwhelmed and meek as before, but this turn of attitude was making equally strong waves through his resolve. How far could he take it? How far would your comfort allow it?

When your fingers slowly crept up his length his hiss filtered through static before an airy moan popped over the speaker of the radio.

His fingers quickened their sweet assault against your g-spot as your own hand began what was becoming a mock jerking off.

Every second seemed to loosen Alastor’s snarky facade. His smile was wavering as he cut into his bottom lip with the force of his sharpened teeth pressing into them. Groans and sighs littered the space between you both as neither of you could worry any longer about hiding how good your hands felt on each other.

Alastor tested the waters of his next step, fingers pulling out and spreading the slick from your dripping entrance. From hole to clit his hand moved with ease.

“Now, a bite?” His head pushed the microphone you gripped onto for dear life with one hand out of his way. “Just….” He took a moment to slow his breathing, your hand stilling to help, “a little more. I promise to not… I won’t be a glutton.”

You didn’t know what a bite meant, and he watched your wide eyes search his face for understanding.

“Just a nibble.” His chest heaved as he waited. 

The weight on the first word comforted you. That precious understanding of what was in jest was translating into what was too far. 

You nodded, the slight fear of the unknown in your eyes endearing you to him. Most fear he gave was something short lived, as was its bearer. But watching you trust him to guide you through that dark new place despite being scared of the uncharted territory stirred something in his chest. 

He could just eat you up. If you’d let him. 

“Take off all of this, and turn around.”

He pulled away, gesturing at your pants and panties. When you hesitated he grinned, the lamp going dark with a snap of his glistening fingers. Just the soft green glow of the assumedly unnecessary equipment and the red light of Pentagram City lit you now. 

You stood and began to lower your pants, “Niffty isn’t lurking somewhere is she?”

Alastor only laughed, the dim yellow backlight of the radio wavering with the frequency.

Naked from the waist down, you felt your arousal quickly waning. This was more than anyone outside of a doctor’s office had seen of you. But the extinguished lamplight helped.

“Oh! Yeah,” you’d forgotten the second half of his request. Turning around you stood stock still as you listened to his pants rustle behind you. Soon the heat of his body was against yours again. You tried to measure his size by the feel of it pressed into your ass and lower back. The height difference was making it difficult but you knew he was more than you’d seen in the few videos Angel shared of his work.

“Bend over and put your hands on the table.”

Just a nibble. was your internal mantra as you did as you were told.

“Cross your legs at the knee.”

That wasn’t … that was new. It was all new but that was truly unexpected. He stepped back, the skin cooling from the sudden loss.

You could hear the wet sounds of something happening behind you before feeling the heat floating off his body again despite him not quite touching you. But he was close, and it had your heart stuttering in your chest.

A bite. 

His cock slid between your thighs, swollen head catching on your clitoral head as he bottomed out. His balls were firm against the back of your legs as he stilled.  His breath shuddered above you. 

The staff had been forgotten, leaning against the desk to your side. 

It finally dawned on you that you were the cake in this meal, and you were fine with it as he began to thrust. Every pass was constant slippery contact with your clit, his head passing over twice for an added jolt each time.

This was a bite, you had to wonder how it’d feel if you let him devour you. The idea was becoming more and more agreeable with every slap of his body into yours. 

His own leaking precum mixed with what you assumed to be spit and made him glide with ease. There was that mounting feeling again, the build up of pressure. The table wasn’t cutting it anymore, flat palms didn’t let you expend the wild bouts of energy bouncing beneath the skin.

You reached tentatively for the staff and pulled it in front of you, perpendicular to your embarrassing position. Both hands around the long black handle, you tightened.

Alastor seemed determined to run every centimeter of his length between your thighs, pulling his cock out entirely before popping it back in.

His grunts were still soft, nothing bestial about it despite how much like animals you felt you acted. 

When your arms gave up and you let your cheek rest against the table, the new angle changed Alastor’s position.

A yelp, not of pain but excited shock, burst out of your open mouth as his head caught on your entrance before slipping back out.

You hadn’t wanted to go further than whatever this was, but every time his thick head threatened to fully penetrate you wished it’d just force its way in. 

Closing your mouth to keep from drooling onto his precious desk, you found your sounds didn’t stop. His grunts and groans accented with your own high pitched noises quickly filled the once silent room.

Tighter and tighter your core twisted. You wanted to ask him to go faster, and as if he was already in your mind a hard thrust knocked your head into a piece of equipment. The obscene sound of his balls smacking into the backs of your thighs grew in intensity as his pace changed. Alastor’s rutting was shortened now, a staccato as he kept his shaft buried against your lower lips. He only moved enough to keep his head entering and exiting the other side.

The hands on your hips had gone largely unnoticed until then, but the pain of his nails now digging into you opened your mind to the other sensations.

The ache in your thighs, the pins and needles in your feet, the dull ache in your head where you hit the metal. 

The stinging of raw skin being hit again and again with every return of his hips.

You didn’t jump when Alastor’s head came to rest atop of yours, his ragged breaths huffed into your cheeks and his typically pin straight hair curling with sweat as it stuck to your face.

The rhythm slowed, and you felt his cock twitching against you before you noticed the warmth spreading with each strong spurt. Strategy or luck, you fleetingly considered, Alastor came mostly into your folds than on the desk. 

It wasn’t luck though. He fought the instinct to cum deep, as in this case it’d just dirty his work station. And it’d be wasteful, as he felt sure he’d been successful in arousing your hunger.

You let your hips go slack, him slipping out from your thighs, before his firm hands pulled you up again.

“Full?” His tone was laced with mockery as his lips mouthed it into your ear.

When his hips began to move again and spread his seed like lube you could only keen for more.

“Needy.” He whispered as he focused his movements to bully your clit.

“That’s-,” you ground out, “How are you so good at this?” The question came out rushed and lacking distinction between the words. Deja Vu. 

He tutted, “I’m also a skilled pianist, but I don’t often find the desire to play. Should I speak of this in terms of musical instruments now or can we call an ace an ace?”

A wanton moan tumbled out of you. “S’not the expression. Spades.”

“What’s that now?” He dealt a particularly harsh thrust and slowed to a stop.

Shaking your head no, you tried to squeeze your thighs tighter.

When he didn’t move, you shook your hips a little. 

It was desperate, and Alastor loved it.

“Let’s call an ace an ace, fine, please —,” it ached, somewhere deep in your guts there was a frustrating desire for something. 

“Say it plainly.”

“I want more. I want you to keep going. Keep moving.”

“See, was that so hard?” He practically sang it.

Alastor waited for you to wet your lips to reply before beginning again, knocking the breath out of your lungs. If he remembered correctly, a steady pace always did the trick. With his own annoying fog of arousal lifted it was easy to focus on you. When he hit an angle that made you spasm and twist your hands around his microphone staff, he held you still in place and fucked your thighs with even speed.

You found your breaths shortening with each escalation of tension, each notch bringing you closer and closer to something you were uncomfortably in need of. You’d do or say nearly anything in that moment to reach that peak but you’d dissect that vulnerability later. 

A restrained scream let him know you were almost there, to not let up.

And then you tensed, body shaking from toes to shoulders, your legs twisted and he felt the squeeze as your own base instincts made you rock back onto his cock.

The wave hit, but as you kept your slow grinding you found aftershocks spiking through your body. From that same aching place in you there now we're hills of overwhelming pleasure spreading out until it bounced off your fingertips and echoed across your nerves. 

Only when you felt your muscles whining over the (just moments ago) deafening orgasm did you stop and let your body once again fall slack onto the table. Your lower half slid down until your knees found the floor and your head rested against the edge of the desk.

The room was silent beyond your pants, his soft chuckle, and the low static of an empty station playing on the radio.

After several moments to collect yourselves, Alastor broke the quiet, “What did you call it? A sweet tooth?”

You turned to sit on your ass and look up at him. He leaned down and offered both his hands to help you up.

Your legs were wobbly, so you clung to his forearm. “Yeah.”

“I’ll have to remember that.” You watched as he leaned over and turned off the broadcasting equipment, casting the room in relative darkness. When he offered you your pants and panties, kindly retrieving them from the floor for you, you chuckled softly.

“Still pretending your machines were doing anything?” Your panties stuck to your skin, making you grimace. The entire thing was pleasurable, that was a fact you couldn’t argue. But now that you were clear from the siren call of touch, you felt entirely disconnected from the experience. The mental image of being bent over the table with your pants at your ankles was mortifying and the fact you would have agreed to anything he asked if it meant he kept fucking you in whatever way that could have be called… cake was better, maybe. Easier. Less messy even if you ate it with your hands. 

Though if he asked, and if the friendly and playful kisses got carried away again… You noticed Alastor was staring at you in the dark, ears straight into the air as faint red light bounced off of them. 

“Who's pretending? Assuming he was home, Vox heard the whole thing from his stupid little AM/FM radio by his bed.” The glow of his eyes brightened.

You dropped your pants. “Vox?” Alastor hummed in reply. “The stalker was Vox? Of the Vees?” you slumped into his chair, hands sliding down your cheeks and pulling your skin with it so the pink of your bottom eyelids peaked out, “I thought you were joking.”

“Joking? I never joke, you should have figured that out by now.” He patted your head and picked up his staff, “Though…it was funny, wasn’t it?”

The embarrassment and shock quickly faded as your body gave up on the more difficult feelings, already too tired to carry them, and your only reply with a slightly unhinged laugh. 

“I knew I could make you laugh.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk  , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  @fizzled-phoenix   , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl  @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[a-hazbin-reader]

Can I please request a Vox x Female Childish Reader just like the meme that goes...

Random Imp: Hey! Some dude is jumping going off to the bungee swing backwards!

Vox who was currently talking to the other 2 V's: Hah, What an idiot

Female Reader: I'M GOING OFF THE BUNGEE SWING BACKWARDS!!!

Vox: Oh no...THAT'S MY IDIOT!!!

I'm up for any ask that gives Vox a headache

Vox X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None?? I think?? Cartoonish scenarios??

Description: ☝️⬆️

You are so goofy and childish and it's one of the reasons Vox actually fell in love with you

It's so refreshing to have someone who's always looking for fun things to do in Hell instead of being miserable or scared

When he first met you, he assumed you were just stupid, watching you run from a group of hungry cannibals while calling it tag

Almost considered leaving you to your fate but something about the way you squealed in excitement as they caught up to you made his heart flip

So he reluctantly saves you and you've become a thorn in his side ever since

A thorn that he's come to love and look forward to seeing every day, often wishing he could just blow off work to spend time with you

Literally does everything you want to do, even at the price of his own pride, that's how whipped Vox is for you

You wanna play the floor is lava?? He's jumping on the nearest piece of furniture and trying to knock you off your perch

You're playing hide and seek?? Fine! Vox is roping in the other V's and he's literally tearing apart everything to find your ass

How tf did you get INSIDE the couch!?!?!

He's in a meeting with the other overlords and you suddenly start a game of Duck Duck Goose, picking him as the goose???

You bet your ass Vox is chasing after you like you owe him money, the others just watching in bewilderment

You start a pillow fight?? He's going to start a pillow WAR

He wants to fucking WIN

Literally adores your childish nature but won't admit it to anyone, no matter how obvious it is

On the other hand...

You fucking stress him out sometimes, getting yourself into the strangest situations

Vox once caught you playing hopscotch with Alastor, winner gets to keep your soul

WHY DID YOU AGREE TO THAT

Relax Voxie~ I won anyways~

You get yourself into a game of musical chairs with a humongous dinosaur demon??

Vox is still having nightmares of you being squashed by that gigantic ass 😒

One of the worst things you've ever done to him is video call him while you're about to do a bungee jump

He was stuck discussing business with the other V's when you suddenly appear on his phone, immediately cheering him up

What could his cute Y/N want now~?

"Hey Voxie~! I'm about to jump off this bridge and do a flip! I want you to watch me!!"

"You're gonna WHAT!?"

Nearly short circuits right then and there, his screen glitching out from the sudden wave of stress

He zaps your way the moment he sees that you're jumping, grabbing the bungee rope and pulling you up with his own two hands

Vox ignores all your whining and pouting over him spoiling your fun, pulling you into his arms and shaking from the adrenaline rush

You are just so confused, you were only having fun...it's his fault for being so busy all the time that you get bored

He's still trying to get his breathing back to normal when he suddenly touches foreheads with you

He squishes your cheeks together and gives you a tired look

"You...are not leaving our bedroom for the rest of the week..."

"Voxie!! That's no fair!!"

I hope this is what you wanted!! I had so much fun writing it!

[libraryraccoon]

Write of a raccoon like a actual raccoon ending up in hell and terrorizing every citizen in hell, and finding some roadroller and it becomes even worse demons homes aren’t only being trashed and torn into pieces and some how Hazbin Hotel is still standing ( it’s because of Nifty scaring them off some how ) The hotel business starts off booming. Sinners rejoice your redemption is far from the ever so crazy Raccoon! Wait till the Duck comes in… >:)

Gender : Raccoon

Pronouns : They/them

Message from Raccoon : That give me idea for a Raccoon!Reader meeting IMP..

General Headcanon

You were a good thief, really good.

But one day, you were betrayed.

You were robbing the world's largest bank, but your partner in crime, Timothy, betrayed you by shooting you.

You didn't really understand why, you never had an explanation, but you suspect that he was working with the Police in secret.

Anyway, you're dead.

Welcome to Hell ! And you're… a raccoon ?

No, like, a real raccoon. The little thing that digs through trash cans.

Holy shit.

Vox was broadcasting his usual show, when he had to interrupt it because there was a turf war led by a raccoon ?

He never thought he would see a real raccoon in Hell, and he never thought he would have to broadcast about them because the raccoon was fighting to be the Overlord of one of the territories.

He could see in the background Angel Dust walking away from the raccoon after seeing them lunge at the face of a snake demon.

Vox quietly wondered if this was all a dream or if he should really be going to Overlord meetings with a raccoon.

Spoiler : he had to.

You injected fear into all the beings of Hell after that, causing chaos.

No one said anything about it, they watched you steal their stuff and their trash but they said nothing.

When Alastor returned, he was NOT expecting to see a raccoon in the Overlords meeting room. Even less so for Carmilla to introduce the said raccoon as the new Overlord.

He made a 404 error.

Alastor saw how everyone else was suspicious or afraid of you, he was wondering who the hell this raccoon is.

You found Alastor interesting.

In the sense that you loved all the chaos he created, so you joined him.

He brought you to the Hotel, wondering what entertainment you would do.

He don't regret it.

You were doing a lot of damage, yes, but it was fun.

One day you drank alcohol at Husk's bar (you stole the bottle when he wasn't watching), and you ended up getting drunk.

Have you ever seen a demon raccoon drunk ? Because the Hazbin Crew did it.

You have fought everyone and destroyed everything you saw.

You were throwing yourself at people's faces like a fucking cat throwing itself at curtains.

It took Vaggie and Charlie spiking you with 16 tranquilizers before you calmed down.

Result of the damage of the hotel : a kitchen destroyed, a living room destroyed, the hall the hotel destroyed, some walls destroyed, the face of Angel Dust and Husk being injured by your claws, Alastor's trench coat in ruins.

And that was just the damage caused to the Hotel, let's not even talk about the rest of Hell..

Lucifer met you when you were in Wrath…

How the hell a sinner found a way to go in the circles other than pride is a mystery without answers.

He asked you, but you just looked at him with completely blank and terrifying eyes. You spoke, but he didn't understand what you were saying, didn't understand the raccoon.

He doesn't even know if you answer or if you were making fun of him.

You have become attached to Lucifer. More precisely his ducks.

Lucifer made a raccoon duck and gave it to you, it's your most precious object since.

Someone must be watching you 24/7 to ensure Hell's survival.

Did I mention the edits about you and the fact that you are a meme in the 7 circles of Hell ?

You hated bald people because Timothy was bald. That's why you attacked Valentino as soon as you saw him.

You 🤝 Niffty = being Valentino's worst nightmares.

Hell wasn't ready for your alliance with Niffty.

Neither was heaven.

Niffty stabbed Adam, you finished him.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hoping that this isn't weird but IMAGINE Vox having everything, fame, money, power, but he loses the one thing he treasures the most on extermination day– his family. Like imagine if Vox and his pregnant wife had this hugee argument before extermination day causing her to storm out of the tower, but he didn't chase her cause it was just probably the hormones and she'd come back. But she didn't manage to come back in time. So Vox had to wait in the tower cause he couldn't go out and pray that she was okay. After the extermination, he of course went ballistic trying to find her, jumping from camera to camera until he found her corpse in some random dark alley. What would be the aftermath? I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD I JUST CRAVEE ANGST ‼️‼️😭

A/N — I rewrote this a total of four times 😭 I hope this satisfies your need for angst, my lovely anon. This is the one my sister finally approved for everyone to see. Poor kid hates reading my fanfic and she's been subjected to being my conscience while I wrote this. I had to bribe her with coffee and a 20 piece nugget from McDonald's to get her to read more than a paragraph 😭

Fade To Black

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, Fem!Reader, loss of wife + child, Vox in denial, got kinda dark with the implications at the end(?), Alastor is mentioned a few times. Guys, I'm literally so sorry

Word Count: 1.2K

“You're not listening to me!” You reiterated for what felt like the billionth time, your gaze momentarily darting to the small curve of your stomach where one of your hands rested securely, the other on your hip.

Vox sighed, exasperated. “Listen, Doll, I'm hearing what you're saying and—”

“—That's exactly the problem! You're hearing what I'm saying but you're not actually listening to me, Vox! For Hell's sake, step away from your work and weird obsession with the Radio Demon for two seconds and focus on what's important!” 

The words felt like knives as you spoke them, each one spearing the air of the penthouse. The room fell silent. The other vees were no stranger to the arguments that broke out, hell, they were a part of most of them. . . But not this one. . . Vox stiffened and squared his shoulders. 

“My work is important. My work is what allows us to live the afterlife we do.” He said, his tone firm, almost condescending. 

“And what about your obsession, huh? Watching the rinky-dink hotel cameras in your office after hours for a glimpse of that antlered little freak who doesn't give a shit about you — when you should be home, here, with me?” 

You waited for an answer, yet Vox only stared at you. It was painfully clear that he didn't know what to say. “Lucifer's tits — fuck you!” You hissed, throwing your hands up in the air, showing just how done you were with all of this.

The next moment, you were turning on your heel and storming out of the room. 

Vox only scoffed and dropped onto the couch, watching as you walked away. Hormones. He thought to himself. It had to be.

He'd never seen you so worked up about his late nights at the office. Never seen you so angry when referencing Alastor, who had once been a good friend and mentor to you. 

Hormones. It was the only logical explanation, right?

He let you go, knowing you needed your space. . . Knowing you'd come home once you cleared your head and had just enough patience to once again approach the topic with a semi-level head, likely once the extermination was over.

You knew the moment you cleared the doors of the tower that you had likely overreacted. The hot, dry air of Hell against your skin seemed to bring the realization to the forefront of your mind. 

Yet it was pride and stubbornness that kept you from turning back to the tower, rather storming through the desolate back alleyways, a metaphorical thundercloud looming over your head.

Vox hadn't followed you, and you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of going back. You loved him, and you knew he loved you too — as shocking as it was that the two of you found genuine love in Hell.

As much as you loved him, he infuriated you, even more so now that you were carrying his child. . . 

The carnage of Extermination Day met your ears and your steps faltered, drawing you to a stop as your instincts then screamed at you to go home. To go where it was safe. 

Safe. 

Safe at Vox's side. At home. . .

How could you have forgotten what day it was? The anger. It had to have been the reason for your lapse in memory. . . So you began heading back towards the tower. 

Pride and stubbornness be damned.

Sticking to the shadows, you ventured forward towards the net of safety that you so desperately needed.

So close, yet so far.

Too far. 

It'd been too long. 

You'd been gone too long. 

The moment Extermination Day had been declared finished, Vox was out looking for you. Every camera on every street he could possibly reach. 

Every sinner he found dead and dying in the streets, he hoped he wouldn't see your face. Your beautiful face. . . The thought alone made something twist in his gut like a double edged blade — fear, he recognized. 

Pure unbridled fear. 

Fear of losing you. Fear of losing the two most important beings in his entire afterlife. 

He searched for what seemed like forever, until he caught a glimpse of you in an alleyway, almost entirely hidden from view. He easily recognized your clothes you had been wearing that day and your hair — oh, how he loved that hair. 

Relief flooded him as he rushed towards you, though it disappeared, his heart plummeting as he dropped to his knees.

“Hey, Doll, wake up. . . It's okay, it's over.” He said, his voice shaky as his hands came up to either side of your face. 

“You did good. . . You played dead so you could survive. They're gone now — you can open your eyes, Doll. . . Please open your eyes. . .” He begged softly, his touch and voice becoming more frantic.

“No, no, no, open your eyes for me, okay? I know you're mad at me, Doll, I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . .” He pulled your body closer to his, clutching you close. One hand held the back of your head to his chest, the other trailed down to your stomach. 

Too many emotions clawed at him as he begged you to wake up, to give up the charade. . . He made promises to make it up to you. He'd spend more time at home with you. He'd give up on his obsession with Alastor. He'd do it. He would do it for you. . . 

But it was too late. . . The blood that soaked your clothes and his was a chilling reminder. . . The all powerful TV Demon choked out a sob as your skin turned cold beneath his hands. 

His world stopped spinning, the axis snapping and floating off into the abyss as he held you close. . . He wasn't used to feeling your skin cold. He was used to the warmth, the life, the light that came from you. 

He couldn't feel you. 

And it killed him. 

He couldn't breathe. His chest ached. Nothing in all of Hell mattered more than you. More than the child that had been created out of love and the use of a loophole within Hell's complex laws of nature. 

And now it had been ripped away from him. He hated himself. He was angry. 

It felt as if the light and warmth had been sucked out of his universe, leaving nothing but cold darkness that seeped into his very soul, gnawing at him, tearing him apart from the inside out. 

He could hardly remember his afterlife before you. Now, facing a reality where he'd have to live in an afterlife without you. . . It consumed him in all the wrong ways. . . 

He wanted you back. 

He needed you back. 

Yet the darkness that gnawed and clawed at his entire being, the absence of you — your light that was supposed to guide him through this perpetual landscape of flame and rot for all eternity. . . The shadows remained like a constant reminder, a plague of its own, slowly eating away at him at every opportunity. 

Without your light, he was nothing. 

Without your laugh, he was nothing. 

Without your attitude, he was nothing. 

Without your warmth, he was nothing.

Nothing more than a shell of the overlord he used to be. . . And when the shadows clawed at his mind like a beast seeking a debt to be paid, he let them win. 

He let it all fade to black. 

[mischievously-royalty]

HEYYYYY BITCH (Not like this Lucifer...)

Lucifer: So, Charlie told me I should try to, uh, 'socialize' more? She told I should post daily... Whatever that means.

Gabe: As for me, I'm just a silly lil' freak hanging around here, trying to have some fun while role-playing as Lucifer! I also post some art from time to time, nothing too big since Idk how to draw properlh

Wha— Role-what??

ANYWAY! You may call me Gabe! (What do you mean by role-playing??) Short for Gabriel and nope, I'm definitely not the archangel Gabriel. (Hey! Answer me!) I'm more like the devil on your shoulder who at every moment has a mental breakdown and questions whether everything we know is true or if it is all just a lie told by the others so that we could participate in something bigger...

AAAAAND he went spiraling, again. Guess I'm gonna have to finish this, huh? *grabs the script* Alright uh, blah blah blah, 'I go by he/they pronous', 'I like cats', DUCKS ARE WAYYYY BETTER! Alright and the last thing is...

Uhhhh, 'ask me questions'? Yeah, that's it.

Have a greaaaaaat day, my dear lil' kittens! (Ducks are still better! And since when you came back??)

Oh! I almost forgot!

Here is the people I have some fun rolepays with! (I added how Luci would adress the others. They're the parts in orange.)

Alastor a.k.a " my deerest " : @bloodiedbuck (rest in piece, voxtechsmells)

Charlie and Belladonna a.k.a " my precious daughter and MY BEAUTIFUL GRANDAUGHTER!! " : @certified-autistic and @belladonna-morningstar

Alice a.k.a " the sweetest girlie I ever met! " : @alice-angel-of-the-stage

KeeKee a.k.a " MY LITTLE LADY💖✨ " : @the-hazbin-key

Raven a.k.a " my beautiful stepaughter " : @ravennightoftheradio

Star a.k.a " my little star daughter " : @starfire-morningstar

Lucifer and Alastor: @ask-radioapple

Vaggie a.k.a " Precious daughter-in-law " : @hazbinsprotectorxxx

Husk a.k.a " Nice bartender " : @husksaysno

Angel Dust a.k.a " Big Spider-Man from adult films " : @ask-angel-dust-w

Lilith a.k.a " Rosie's wife " : @queensaskblog

Nifty a.k.a " Adam's biggest nightmare " : @nifftyyyyy

Louis a.k.a " my elegant fella! " : @luci-the-kitty

Allie a.k.a " my prideful fella! " : @cursedcatastor

Zestial a.k.a " THE GREATEST OVERLORD IN THE FUCKING HELL! " " GABE, WHAT THE FUCK- " : @ask-zestial

Carmilla Carmine a.k.a " the Overlord responsible for angelic thingies " : @theweaponsoverlord

Shea a.k.a " a nice friend of mine " : @asksheablog

Asmodeus a.k.a " Ozzie " : @ask-asmodeous-and-fizz

Beelzebub a.k.a " Bee " : @ask-the-queen-beelzebub

Vortex a.k.a " Bee's boyfriend " : @ask-vortex-the-hellhound

Fizzarolli a.k.a " Fizz " : @ask-fizzy-jester

Velvette a.k.a " Barbie Doll " : @queen-of-vees

Valentino a.k.a " FILHA DA PUTA, CORNO, VAGABUNDO, NASCEU NO LIXO- " " GABE CALM DOWN- " : @mothmandarling

Adam a.k.a " wifeless." : @adamforthewin

Sir Pentious a.k.a " Sir Pênis. " " GABE DON'T- " : @sirpentious-presious

Cherri Bomb a.k.a " Explosion girl " : @thecherribomb & @cherrylovesbombs

AND HERE IS MY FAMILY!

Hoppy a.k.a " Apple Pie " : @hophopscotch

Ayuda a.k.a " Apple Pie's wife and amazing daughter in law! " : @shortmomma1993

Jax a.k.a " grandson I had no idea I had but ok- " : @ask-jax-things

[alice-after-dark]

Hm... It slightly grinds my gears that, however much I absolutely love radiostatic, people seem to think that someone can only be so obsessed like vox if they were rejected/had romantic/sexual feelings, and that Alastor/Vox's split has entirely to do with Vox's having a one sided crush and Alastor being uncomfortable with it?

Like, I love radiostatic, don't get me wrong, so of course I do understand the appeal of vox's having a pathetic crush or obsession with Alastor. But what I mean is that, there is some evidence that they were partners for a long time, and built an understanding and friendship off that. And they're both overlords. I just don't think Alastor would be shy about relationships at all, he would understand it as a way to manipulate people that maybe he himself is not inclined to. And so if anything, the reason that they split could have a lot to do with existing problems in their friendship and changing power dynamics, if anything. But none of these are confirmed, we don't even have confirmation that vox was in love with alastor, so it is a little weird that almost everyone agrees the problem was the unreciprocated crush.

Tl;dr friendships can break for reasons other than unreciprocated romantic feelings, and people can be obsessed for reasons besides love/rejection. Ok but all that said, I actually enjoy most of the content so LOL.

Also I heard that the idea of carmilla and zestial being the most powerful comes from a piece of either semi-canon or discarded canon interview where they ranked 2nd and 1st of the overlords respectively, and vox ranked 3rd, but idk how accurate that is (I highly doubt it's authenticity)

Holy long ask!

*cracks knuckles*

Starting at the end cause that's the easiest to address ngl, but yeah I doubt it's authenticity too. Huge Vox fan here and even I would not rank him fucking THIRD in power. Dude is strong, but I don't think he's that strong.

On the rest, nah I totally get you. I absolutely adore RadioStatic (have you been on my blog? lol), but I'm not personally big on the whole unreciprocated crush angle. I personally think Vox's anger and obsession come from Alastor's (real? perceived?) betrayal of their friendship in some capacity. He saw Alastor as someone he could trust and had that trust broken in some way. At least, that's how things would come across from his side of it. I personally think they're both at fault and letting their pride get in the way of actually talking it out and dealing with their issues.

While the crush thing is totally a viable situation, I think there are some far more interesting ones out there. Like...the idea that they had a strong enough friendship for Alastor to allow a clear photo of him to be taken with Vox and yet he was so put off by a crush that it completely destroyed it? Doesn't sit well with me, no thanks. And yeah, I can see Vox being hurt, maybe a little pissy, but if he truly cared for Alastor as much as the fandom seems to think he does, then again, it doesn't entirely make sense that he would let his crush ruin it. Yeah, he absolutely seems to want revenge on Alastor, but I don't think it has to do with a crush.

[inkykeiji]

Girl please stop writing alastor, if I cum again I'm gonna throw up 😭❤️ you're too good at writing himmmmm I think the way you characterise him is *exactly* the way I imagine him to be... he definitely makes you undress at night too, he sits there with a mug in his hand, watching you strip, he makes a fucked up ritual for everything. He probably bathes you himself while tending to your stitches cuz why would he ever let you do that? You won't do it right, not the way *he* does it....

OH OH OH and I've been meaning to ask you for the longest while: is the cut he gives reader during "make a mess of me" the one that tends to in the short piece where reader ripped open her stitches while wearing white?

I hope you feel better soon, and I hope this month's period is easier on you ❤️

AHAHAHA oh my gosh anon!!! ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞ you’re so sweet aaaah thank you so much, that is SUCH a huge compliment!!! i really love writing alastor and exploring him as a character, i find him super fascinating and rly fun to write!! <33

omggg you are absolutely right, he 100% turns your undressing + bedtime routine into some sort of sacrament he controls; after he’s brushed your teeth and washed your face and tended to your hair, he picks out your pjs, watches with that smug satisfaction as you pull off the outfit he assembled for you this morning and slip on the cute lil nightie he’s selected for tonight. there’s a certain type of pride glimmering in his eyes, barely dimmed by the steam curling up from his tea; something sharp and bright that flares with each of your obedient actions, something that glows with the potency of such powerful ownership. and then, when you are finally finished and ready to curl up in the fluffy lil bed that sits in the corner of his room right next to his writing desk, he allows you to kneel at his feet, chin resting on his thigh as slim fingers tenderly unfasten that precious collar, still weighted around your neck <3

oh, of course! tending to your wounds—his wounds—happens to be his favourite ritual; well, right behind gifting you those injuries, that is. he always forces you into the clawfoot tub, even if you don’t necessarily need a bath; always makes sure the water is just a hint too hot, so he can devour that adorable little wince the moment the water stings your skin; and always cleanses your body head-to-toe, paying special attention to the gashes and bites and scratches he’s etched into your flesh—new and old. he revels in the sweet little gasps he pulls from your throat when he presses a touch too hard, the precious little hisses spit from between clenched teeth when he grinds soap into a fresh cut, murmuring out in that syrupy tone, oh, does that hurt, sweetheart? <3

ah good question!!! it is not the same wound, no (though u could read/interpret it that way, if you want to!), in my mind they were two completely separate incidents hehe c: aw thank u so much! uGH i spent most of today in bed writhing in pain >.<

[jessilynallendilla]

Huskerdust HuskerXAngel Dust

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The House Edge (M 128,313)  SERIES 

Life's never been kind to Angel. It's chewed him up and spat him out again, over and over and over. And, sure, maybe some of the shit he's gone through's his own damn fault---it must be, given where he's ended up. Fate cast her die and decided he's doomed to fail or whatever. It's fine. He's accepted it. Made the most of it, or tried to. And it's sure gotten him somewhere. He's the most famous porn star in all of Hell, working for the illustrious Porn Overlord, Valentino. Until fate decides to fuck with him some more and throws a wrench into the monotony of Angel's afterlife through a chance meeting with the one and only Gambling Demon himself. All at once, Angel finds himself clutching something he thought he'd lost a long time ago: hope. 

Card Tricks   (EX) 

Angel didn't expect to wake up one day and suddenly be owned by Hell's infamous Gambling Overlord. Like, what the hell?! But....maybe this is a good thing. A new start. Right? 

Play Me Like Roulette (M) 

Angel didn’t do politics. That was a well-known fact. But there was one famous demon he did know. The Gambling Demon. Husker, one of the most feared beings in the Pride ring, the owner of the most feared establishment in Hell - The Suits of Hell Casino. People said once you joined his game, your life was like a house of cards; one smooth blow and everything collapsed. They said as soon as you set foot in the building, you were already losing. After Valentino suggests a trip to the most notorious casino in the Gambling District, Angel is already expecting a shitshow but when he finds himself on the Gambling Demon’s leash, he’s hesitant to accept that Husker is really that okay of an overlord. Angel finds himself drowning in a mess of new coworkers, confusing expectations and going cold-turkey out of nowhere. Will things ever feel okay? And was it really a coincidence that Valentino chose Husker’s casino of all places? 

Letting Hope In  (M)  SERIES 

Husk is self destructing and in a last ditch effort to find something with meaning, he plays bartender in his casino. Then he meets Angel Dust, the biggest pornstar in Hell, and now he has something to look forward to tomorrow. Maybe these two losers can find some heaven in hell. 

Pieces Of Paper We Hold  (EX) 

Ever since he became Valentino’s toy boy, Angel Dust hasn't gotten a single break—and it's taken a turn for the worse since the battle against Heaven's Exorcists left the Overlord elite reeling, and the three Vees thirsty for more power that they can now seize. As Alastor's obedient pet, Husk's afterlife has been an absolute bitch thus far, and the powerlessness brought on by his shackles makes it hard to breathe most days. Things did get a bit better as the two of them started to grow closer, and Angel decided to slow down with his addiction. But the small refuge that they are for each other falls apart like a house on cards after Angel throws caution to the wind to save a young sinner from Valentino's smoke and mirrors. Now Valentino is hell-bent on making Angel Dust's afterlife even worse for him, and Husk knows that he can't leave Angel to fend for himself for the rest of his forever. No matter how high a cost Alastor's help might come at, the only way out might be through, and if there's something to be said about these two losers is that they won't go down without a fight. 

King Of Spades  (M 133,357) 

Husker, known as the Gambling Overlord, caught the attention of Hell by rapidly amassing power, souls, riches, and territory. His casino, The Cat's Den, became a hub of vice and despair, where sinners gambled away their souls in a chaotic environment. Despite his carefree and indulgent lifestyle, Husker rose to prominence, significantly expanding his influence and wealth over a decade. Initially underestimated, Husker proved his potential by transforming from a small-time overlord into a formidable powerhouse in Hell. 

Lucky Charm   (T) 

Husk gets thrown into the past and decides he is going to do things right this time. That meant keeping his title and soul and making sure a few others keep their souls as well. He may be too sober to get through it, but he was going to fucking try.  

A Gamble A Deal A Promise  (M) 

Angel was a toy, a prop, a thing to be used. But somehow it was still a shock when Valentino used him as leverage at Hell's only casino. What's even more shocking is when the Gambling Demon offers him a job that doesn't involve hours on his knees. Seems a little too good to be true, but what else does Angel have going for him? It might be worth giving this Husk guy a shot. 

My Kingdom For The Soul Of An Angel  (EX  76,650) 

"I'll have someone show you t'your room." 

"My room?" 

Husk nodded. "Everyone on staff gets a room, unless they want to share. But, I figure, with everything about Valentino, you'd like your own space." 

"I... just thought you'd want me in your room?" 

"Why the hell would I want you in my room?" Husk asked, brows pinched. 

" 'Cause... you own me?" 

"I own everyone here; my bed's only 'bout big enough f'r me." 

High Stakes  (EX 57,471) 

Husk, the Gambling Demon, wins Angel’s contract in a poker game and subsequently becomes Angel’s new boss. Angel did not think Hell could get any worse, but it just fucking did. 

People Surprise You  (M) 

Husk wins Angel's soul from Valentino. Now what does an overlord, who recently rediscovered his own humanity, do with a gun-toting ex-pornstar? 

New Overlord  (M) 

The sudden and mysterious disappearance of souls became the hottest topic in the city, along with the death of the Infamous Overlord, Valentino. Or where Angel Dust became Overlord and stumbled upon with Gambling Overlord who may seem to know him before. 

The Union We’re (Definitely Not) Chosen For  (M) 

When Don Henroin lost himself to the exterminator angels, Arakniss took it upon himself to lead the Family as the right heir to the Mafia. The death of the Don means the Family weakens. They need someone to stand with them and make them powerful. Someone untouchable. The opportunity shows itself in the form of the Gambling Overlord. Arakniss planned it upon himself to marry off his youngest sister and Anthony's twin, Molly, to the Gambling Overlord, in exchange of power. After all, the strongest, unbreakable contract that should exist would be a marriage contract— Arakniss and the famiglia is settled under the wing of the cat demon. He failed to account that Anthony would be eavesdropping on his meeting with the Overlord. 

A Little Closer To The Edge  (EX) 

Angel helps a cornered demon without knowing who he is. What comes after, will change their lives forever. 

Corrupt Husk And His Sugar Baby Angel  (EX) 

One shots of a Corrupt Overlord Husk who is allied to the Vees for winning the soul of the radio demon, Alastor. He is much more open about his want for a particular pornstar in Val's possession, Angel dust. They can't help but gravitate towards each other and soon Angel spends more time with Husk who feeds into his brat behavior and getting what he wants. 

Facing Down The King Of Cards  (G 48,134) SERIES 

After Vox tried and failed to win a specific soul from the new Gambling Overlord, it's up to Valentino to finish the game. But it's up to Angel to play his cards right. 

Mia Famiglia  (M  41,016) SERIES   

Arackniss blinked dumbly, watching a heavy, golden chain form tightly around his neck, the Gambling Overlord’s smirk sharp and cunning. Well shit. This’ll be really hard to explain to Anthony. Or. In which Arackniss loses his soul to Husk, one of the strongest overlords this side of the pentagram and a direct rival of Angel Dust, the overlord leader of La Famiglia. Niss doesn’t doubt Angel’s willingness to help (blood runs thicker than water, after all), but Husk seemed more than content in keeping the grey-furred arachnid. If only to spite the other overlord. 

Luck And Whispers  (M) 

The Radio Demon served as an unspoken ally. His appearances in Husk's casinos brought a mix of peril and delight, depending on who was the audience and who was the prey. So, when Alastor unexpectedly visited Husk's office and presented the contract involving Angel Dust, the notorious Angel of Death in recent years, Husk found himself compelled to agree. What initially appeared to be a promising deal unraveled into the resurfacing of memories that both Husk and Angel thought were buried and forgotten. 

Call Your Bluff   (EX) 

Val may be a fucking monster, but he’s a monster that Angel knows. He’s a monster that Angel understands. Angel isn’t stupid; he made the choice to sign with Valentino because he was the only overlord that made sense for Angel’s lifestyle — for what Angel wanted out of Hell. But now you’re tellin’ him that his soul is owed to some random fucking jackass who swindled Val in a game of cards? How can that be fair? How can that be something that’s just allowed to happen? (In which, Angel's contract is acquired by a new overlord — Hell's very own Gambling Demon, and they both get more from the relationship than either of them bargained for.) 

I Don’t Want The World But I’ll Take This City  (M) 

“You’re a real mess, you know that?” 

“Wow. Fuck you.” 

“What’s your problem, anyway?” Husk snaps. “I get you away from that shitty boss of yours and I’m the bad guy?” 

And oh, Angel wants to shoot this guy in the face right now. Seriously? 

“My knight in shinin’ fuckin’ armor,” Angel says with a roll of his eyes. “Is that how it is? You wanna play pretty princess in the tower with me? I didn’t need your help. I didn’t ask to be saved.” 

Too Sweet For Me  (M) 

“Then why’d you take the bet for my soul? Why else would you want me for, other than for my body?” 

“To be honest with you, I just wanted that motherfucker out of my casino. I would’ve taken that bet if it were any other soul. You ain’t special, darling.” Angel was still coming to terms with the fact that he was now a free soul. It just seemed so surreal, and it was all because the Overlord who’d won his soul had absolutely no interest in owning it. 

Love In Bonds  (EX) 

Angel didn’t know what to make of Overlord Husker. The man won his soul, handed him a new contract which seemed too good to be true compared to his previous master. He didn’t trust it but he was stuck in Hell and sometimes you had to enjoy a good thing while it lasts. Husk was weird, his business partners and friends were even weirder but the longer he was around them the more he began to like them. But as Angel had learnt very early in death good things come to an end and Valentino isn’t willing to let him go so easily. Another Overlord Husk wins Angel’s soul from Valentino but this one they dive straight into a relationship. Dubious at best because Angel doesn’t really have a say in staying with Husk but Husk treats him right so it’s about as healthy a relationship as you can get in Hell. 

You’re So Good To Me  (EX) 

The first time Angel Dust fell in love, he wound up dead. The second time, he lost his soul. So why he went and did it yet again is anyone's guess. 

My Atlantis  (EX  46,153)  

When Angel gets off to a bad start with a certain cat demon in a run-down bar, he doesn't expect to ever see the stranger again. But when Valentino insists on having the Vees partake in a game with the gambling overlord himself (and is about as good at poker as you'd expect him to be), Angel's soul is signed over to the very same demon. Husk shows Angel that he's worth more than his value to others. 

Wicked Old Soul   (M  200,131) SERIES 

“Val- I-I don’t understand. What’s going on?” He reached for Val in desperation, trying to make sense of what was happening but his mind felt fuzzy and he couldn’t decipher the situation. 

Val grabbed his hand and pulled Angel close to him. He exhaled pink smoke into his face and Angel felt himself relax into Val’s grip. Val used another hand to grab Angel’s chin tightly, claws digging in but not enough to break his skin. 

“You’re not my problem anymore,” Val whispered into his ear. “I have no use for addict trash like you.” OR When Val loses Angel to the gambling overlord but makes sure Angel believes he simply didn't want him anymore. Angel is left devastated and unsure of what his new life and master will be like. 

The Biggest Gamble Is To Overlook The Consequences   (M) 

“I have an idea. Why don’t we decide over a game? You can even pick if you’d like.”  A real original idea. Husk just about stops himself from rolling his eyes into the back of his skull. Instead he huffs out a laugh. Reaches for the bottle again. “You really think that’s a good idea?” Valentino isn’t the first Demon to challenge Husk to a gamble, and he won’t be the last, but there is true stupidity in challenging the Gambling Demon to a game of cards. And of course Valentino, just like everyone that has come before him, is planning to cheat. He wants a deal between his three and Husk too badly to let it all slip through his fingers, so he’ll do everything in his power to tip the game in his favour. Or: Valentino gambles with Angel’s soul contract. Angel gets the better end of the deal. 

The Golden Rule  (M 4,270)  SERIES 

Husk is really good at hedging his bets, and he's even better at winning. Or Two years ago, Husk won Angel's soul in a poker game with Valentino. That was the easy part. The hard part is convincing himself that he's not falling in love. 

Someone You Can Bet On  EX 

After decades of abuse under Valentino, Angel forms a plan to escape. It all rides on convincing the famous gambling overlord, Husk, to make a bet for Angel's soul. Husk knows appearances are everything as an overlord, so he conceals his true self behind his legendary poker face. When he meets Angel, he realizes he’s not the only one hiding behind a mask. Husk agrees to save Angel from Valentino's clutches, but a regular soul contract just won’t do. Instead, Husk binds Angel's soul to him in demonic matrimony, convincing himself that a fake relationship will be good for publicity and keep his reputation intact. Angel is pleased with his new arrangement, and his new husband, but Husk is determined to keep it as a business deal. His troubled past and morality quickly begin to clash with his desires, and Angel is nothing if not persistent in his pursuit of something more. As Angel breaks down the walls of Husk's past to help him heal, and Husk stitches up Angel’s wounds, their bond begins to strengthen. Will it be enough to help them fend off the enemies that wish to sabotage their happy ending? 

See You Next Tuesday  EX 

Angel doesn’t really mind his job as a hooker, he provides a service and people pay him - work is work, but if a well-hung millionaire wants to whisk him away to live in a mansion well… there are worse ways to live. 

[the-nexus]

This is why he had feared falling in love, even in his human days. One begins to care about another person far beyond reason and fathom, to the point any inkling of SADNESS made him feel insane with the need to make all the pain go away. Worse, notably, that he is the cause of Lulu's pain this time, all because he's fighting, and LOSING so many of his own battles against a woman who had once loved Lucifer, too.

He'd lashed out, and it had pissed her off. Part of him didn't regret doing so, if only because the sheer look of RAGE upon her visage had been so worth it in the moment. Even if she'd hurt Lulu beyond reason ( and, cursed gods, he despised her for that, too ), an intense emotion like LOVE didn't just up and cease to exist. He hadn't outright told her he and Lucifer were married--- no, he's not SO foolishly petty that he would endanger their bond like that, but to know both Charlie AND Lucifer were on his side? That wound wasn't healing up and closing anytime soon.

" I did not ask for your help, Lulu. I don't want or need it, you see. " Gently, he takes Lucifer's hand from where it had gripped the tight, glowing chain, and pulls it to his lips to plant a chaste kiss atop it. Thereafter, though, he pulls away, letting Lucifer's hand go. " Besides, what do I look like having my husband fight all my battles for me, hm? Why, all of hell would start to believe I've lost my touch! No, no, you KNOW we can't have that! "

That part was very much true; he's LUCKY his defeat against Adam hadn't been broadcasted to all of hell, and that he'd managed to slink away before the rest of the hotel caught a glimpse at how poor off he'd been afterwards. Of course Lucifer's help would shift the pieces into his favor, but... it's messy enough as is, and as much as Alastor LOVES messes, this one is one he'd prefer to keep as contained as possible.

" Rest assured though, my darling, I am fine! This chain causes me no pain, I am free to leave and return as much as I please again--- it is but an UGLY statement, and nothing more! Now, I'm simply ravenous! Shall we have lunch? Dinner? I don't even know what time it is, but food sounds GREAT right about now! "

@radiodaemon

Having his hands drawn from the chain and tenderly kissed warmed his heart, but to be told his help was neither wanted or needed made his stomach sink once again. As Alastor continued, he realized the other was right to want to fight alone, but it didn't bother him any less. As a loving, married couple, were they not supposed to work together? Was this not something they could fight side by side?

Still, Alastor was a known, very powerful Overlord of Hell and his own reputation was on the line. Should Lucifer fight every battle of his, others in the King's realm would see him as unfit to be an Overlord and incapable of handling his own.

He buried his face in his Doe's chest, arms encircling his waist as he inhaled the other's scent he'd been deprived of the entire week. At least he returned to Lucifer alive and in one piece. He couldn't deny he'd been utterly terrified something had happened to him. He couldn't be blamed after their last extended parting.

"I understand how you feel, but I still hate knowing you're fighting by yourself." Hands firmly snatched Alastor's coat by the collar and Lucifer pulled himself up to wrap his legs around his husband's waist. "I'll let you keep fighting to uphold your reputation as someone to to be fucked with, as is your wish, but you have to promise me one thing...." Claws combed through his beloved's two-toned locks. "If you're facing a fight you know you can't win, you WILL call for me. I'm not going lose you a second time, you hear?"

Lucifer drew Alastor in to let their foreheads touch. "Never again. Please. Promise me this." He knew Alastor's pride and stubbornness. They were qualities he found both admirable as well as irritating. Sometimes it was hard to get through those features of his, but he loved his demon for them all the same.

Alastor's desire for food made Lucifer sigh, yet a smile curved his lips. "It's evening, so dinner it is. What're you feeling up for, hm? Your options aren't limited to just this ring of Hell, by the way," he murmured, nuzzling his face into the other's neck.

[finned-fish]

The commentary is actually just “I’m aroace and sex+romace-repulsed and I would rather put a gun to my head and pull the trigger myself than ever see them so much as stand next to each other ever again, but I’m on iOS (so I can’t use browser extensions to get rid of those posts for me), and this website is un fucking navigable if you don’t want to see the popular ships in your fandom of choice. Tumblr’s base filters don’t do SHIT if every post under one tag you want to see is also tagged with another you have blocked.”

I am not kidding even a little bit when I say I have blocked over 200 different blogs over this (mostly radioapple and radiostatic). I have a list. I haven’t found one singular fucking person who is 1.) still active at all, 2.) still posts about Hazbin, 3.) isn’t actually 12 years old, and 4.) has never made/reblogged ship posts with alastor, selfship or otherwise. I’m really not a fan of any ship to be honest, I’d never see any of them if I had a choice. All of it makes me wildly uncomfortable. But if I genuinely can’t find anyone who doesn’t ship Alastor with someone else, there is no fucking shot I’m gonna find anyone who doesn’t ship any of them.

Fandom is, by definition, not made to include me, and “good representation” won’t suddenly make that untrue. But god dammit, I am so, so, so sick of being a fucking spectator all the goddamn time. I don’t feel included in larger society, I don’t feel included in LGBTQ+ conversations/events (and a lot of them are just flat out unsafe for me because of how sexual they are), I don’t feel included in niche internet communities, and I don’t even get to feel included in conversations about a character that’s supposed to be like me, with other people who are as close to me as I could possibly ever get (because most radioapple shippers are ALSO AROACE.) There isn’t a single place on this god forsaken rock that’s made to accomodate me other than spaces for actual children, and I guess I just hoped I could have one fucking guy I could still at least somewhat enjoy like everyone else if he was aroace too, at least stand in the corner with my one guy and pretend for a second that I belong here. But instead, I come out of #alastor feeling significantly worse than when I went in, and I have actually cried real tears more than once over this. There is no solution, because no amount of searching and filtering and blocking will bring into existence a community that just does not exist.

Other people get to feel seen, included, and heard with Alastor’s representation. They get to find a community of people who are like them, and show their relationships that don’t get any representation. Even if they are niche, they get to find those communities where they feel included and normal. I got to learn that that feeling of being alone in a room will never go away no matter how hard I try to be like everyone else. I will always be intruding in on a conversation I have no right being a part of, always a spectator watching everyone else get to experience what I want so fucking badly, and know in my heart of hearts simply does not exist for me. And I guess I just got my hopes up that all I needed was one character, one piece of media I could latch onto, that I’d find people through that eventually, and I’m starting to realize that that still just isn’t true. No amount of representation will make me a place in fandom, or pride, or the world as a whole, because I am that incompatible with the rest of the world. That’s what I’ve gotten out of Alastor.

So forgive me for being a little upset about it.

Okay, I understand all of this. Feeling alienated absolutely fucking sucks and is something I go through frequently. I get it. Completely. I act out because of it sometimes.

Doesn't justify antagonizing an innocent artist though. It is not their problem to fix. Get out of their inbox. @inuxi makes incredible beautiful art of characters they enjoy. It's really as simple as that. Whether an artist wants to appeal to a certain community or not is a personal choice that should be respected.

There are so many aroace artist communities. I've interacted with aroace artist communities. There are accommodative communities around. Saying you belong nowhere at all is a lie. It's easy to get overwhelmed by the majority, I've been there, but just take a step back for a moment.

I wish you the best of luck, man, I really do. Finding a community where you belong is something you ARE entitled to. Antagonizing an artist for art you don't like is NOT.

[burning-fcols]

「 ☆ 」 Oh he is going to do it.

With every passing breath, tension in the air grows. Practically buzzing in his own skin, Lucifer watches those troublesome tendrils trail their way up Alastor's body. An attempt at escape if Lucifer ever saw one, the fallen angel simply WAITING for when it'll actually be necessary to grab the other. Part of him hopes it won't come to that. Silently pleads that Alastor will get through the shock without aid of fleeing the scene. Lucifer doesn't want to have to drag him back into it. To force him to endure a situation he clearly doesn't want to be in.

❛ Please don't run... Please don't make me stop you. ❜

Of course, when has his pleading ever changed anything?

❝ Fuck— ❞ Lucifer breathes as soon as Alastor starts to slip away, acting on a burst of panic impulse. Faster than the blink it takes for the deer to try and flee, hands abruptly GRAB Alastor's arm. Claws digging into the limb in fear, he is suddenly yanked backward through the portal. Hurled across the room with dizzying strength— one might be surprised considering Lucifer's stature, if they weren't aware of his position in Hell —in a mirror of what CAUSED this situation. Albeit, Alastor lands on the bed with more force than Lucifer had.

Spinning on his heel to face the other man, a trembling fist is clenched at his side while the other hand points an accusatory finger. ❝ You are NOT abandoning us! ❞ Shocked by his snarled outburst— words echoing with a demonic growl, the ❛ King of Hell ❜ briefly igniting within the normally harmless-appearing fallen angel —wide eyes blink back scalding tears ( flood of red changing back to a soft yellow ) droplets sliding down his pale face to land on the floor with audible sizzles. Weakly stumbling back a step, hands fidget in front of himself, the Hellfire in his eyes having dimmed to an ashamed smoldering.

❝ I... I mean— you... I know that— ... I... I'm not... This isn't— ❞ So unlike his earlier command shout, words stutter out helplessly. No direction found within them aside from a fumbling need to take back what was already spoken. To hide how completely terrifying it is to think of ruining another life. TWO if he counts the child at risk of being stuck with only him to depend on. He hadn't meant for this to happen... but that hardly makes a difference. Whether he likes it or not, Alastor's world is forever changed. Lucifer can't let him run away from this responsibility.

He can't do that to their child... It hurts too much to be rejected by those who were meant to love you.

❝ Look. I know this isn't what you wanted... ❞ Lucifer tries again, dimmed gaze lowering to the side. Hands slowly rest on his stomach, shoulders hunching as the man who had hurled Alastor across the room now appears powerless. ❝ But— It's happening. And I can't let you run from it. I— I'm sorry. ❞ Head bowing, eyes shut as shaking hands clutch at his shirt. Feeling utterly pathetic, pride shattering to pieces in front of one of the LAST people he wanted it to, Lucifer forces himself to continue. Figuring he owes that much to Alastor and their unborn child. ❝ You can hate me. That's fine. I get it. I'm used to it. ❞

Lucifer may be doomed to abandonment by those he grows to... care about ( however begrudging and CONFUSING it may be ) but he doesn't need to damn yet another innocent soul to such a fate.

❝ But whoever THIS turns out to be... ❞ Glossy eyes reluctantly open, Lucifer gazing down at his stomach with an open fear, ❝ They're going to need you, Alastor. ❞ Even more than Lucifer does. 「 ☆ 」

Oh, he was going to do it, those shadows crawling up his body just a bit quicker with each second that passed. It's almost comical, how stiff Alastor becomes, as if he were a cartoon character, animated by a hand not his own. Eyes flick down to the golden glow, it twisting his stomach with a pleasant warmth at the memory of how sweet it had tasted on his tongue. He'd been thinking about it near endlessly since that first swipe of his tongue against Lucifer pale skin as it slowly bled into a bruise, he wouldn't be surprised if it was like a drug, with how much he felt addicted to the holy substance after only a brief indulgence.

A step forwards for Lucifer, a step backwards for Alastor, shadows climbing further up his torso, wrapping about the still sensitive skin of an angelic wound scared over to bring a quiet hiss from his lips. He would have died without Lucifer's help, there was no question of it.

Alastor couldn't even say why he wanted to run, not truly. If he really sat down and thought about it, it was almost funny. Him, a mortal soul damned by the holy hands of Heaven, helping create a spawn with the king of hell himself. The fallen angel, so very misconstrued by those who still walked on earth. He found it made him angry, how wrong they were about the man, how they cursed his name. He hated how little he could do about it, and hated that he cared so much even more.

If this was true --it was, he knew that it was, no doubt thanks to the animal instructs that so liked to run his unlife-- then...wasn't it what he wanted? Power, prestige, safety; he was the father to what would be royalty, for whatever that was worth in a place like this. The child would no doubt be powerful, something reliant on him, easy to control-

No, no he couldn't. Can't. He is not fit to parent a child. He's killed people, eaten them, if he were to be anything like his father-

He hadn't even realized he was sinking into the shadows until the lobby came into his view, Alastor making to stumble out of a portal, but he knew he wouldn't get very far.

[thatsaltybobcat]

Jealous Type (part 2)

Relationship: Charlie x Alastor

Rating: Explicit (gets very spicy)

D-did you hear something?” Charlie breathed, lifting her head up from resting her forehead against Alastor’s. Fingertips loosening from the soft tufts of his ears as she started to turn her gaze towards the entrance to the kitchen. 

Alastor placed his hand against Charlie’s rosy cheek, tilting her chin up so their gazes locked. Captivating her with his fiery gaze as a wave of his fingertips turned up the volume on his staff as a new song faded in. “Nothing besides the music and your heartbeat, my dear.” Alastor chimed, glancing towards the swinging double doors. Sensitive ears picking up Vaggie’s clumsy paces as she raced back down the hall towards the lobby. 

“We’re all alone, no chaperone~”

“I just could’ve sworn I heard somONE- mm” Charlie squeaked as Alastor closed his lips against her neck again, nipping raw marks against her porcelain skin. Clawed fingers tracing down her sides in feather-like touches as he reached down between them.

“Can get our number,”

“The world’s in slumber,”

“I can assure you, my darling,” He purred. Seamlessly undoing the button on her slacks. Unraveling her legs from around his thin waist as he peeled the fabric from her thighs and down passed her ankles. Discarding them with a poof of magic, sending them folded neatly against one of the clean work tables. “That we are completely alone.”

 “Let’s misbehave~”

Vaggie could barely see through her tears as she stormed through the lobby, nearly running over Nifty- who barely dodge away at the last moment- and sending the mop bucket the small demon had been using spilling all over the hardwood floor. “Oh no!!” The small cyclops shrieked as she ran to grab paper towels from the maid closet, carrying on about manners or something that Vaggie didn’t give a damn about listening to. 

“Woah Woah dollface! Where’s the fire?” Angel exclaimed, moving one of his arms to stop Vaggie just in front of the bar. Pausing momentarily to read Vaggie’s face, even though her splotchy face and the tear-stained eye was an easy read. “Oh, marone why the long face? Ya conversation with blondie couldn’t have gone that bad!”

Vaggie visually flinched at the mere mention of Charlie, furiously rubbing her face as she made an attempt to move past the spider demon. “Th-there was n-NO conversation! M-move!” Vaggie hissed, not look up at Angel Dust when he sidestepped to block her path, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“Soooo… if there wasn’t any conversation… what’s with this?” He asked, motioning to her trembling frame and tear-stained features. “Because this makes me think that something did happen.” With one hand on his hip, two more crossed over his chest, awaiting an answer.

“F-fuera de mi camINO- MOVE!” Vaggie yelled, shoving the taller demon forward so he stumbled and struggled to maintain his balance. Ignoring the slew of curses that erupted from Angel Dust as she stormed passed him and out the front doors of the hotel.

“There's something wild about you, child,”

Alastor took a firm grip on Charlie’s bare hips, yanking the demoness down to meet with him, sheathing her around his length with a low grunt of satisfaction. Which only grew into a guttural growl when she let out a surprised gasp against his shoulder at the sudden intrusion. The breathy tone shrilling into an airy exclamation of her partner’s name.  

“A-Alastor!”

“That's so contagious,”

“Let's be outrageous,”

Lips parted, mouth agape as her hands dug into the fabric of Alastor’s dress shirt, elongating claws tearing through to carves recesses into his skin. Only relishing in the pain, the Radio Demon egged her on with another sharp buck of his hips. “There we are darling, don’t think you need to act ladylike on my behalf.” His antlers started to branch out over his head as another harsh thrust, holding her still as she started to squirm against him, fighting for more friction as her legs tightened around his narrow waist. “I want to hear that beautiful voice of yours scream for me.”

“Let’s misbehave~”

“What’s got her taco all in a twist?” Angel Dust muttered as he folded his arms over his chest, staring at the half-open entrance as he walked back to the bar. “She said they didn’t even have a conversation!” Sitting back down on the barstool with a huff. 

“So she’s must’ve seen something that she didn’t like too much..” Husker mumbled passively, using a long claw to pick at a crusted pieces off the inside of a tall glass. Not really caring about the situation unfolding in front of him as he popped open another bottle of booze, pouring Angel Dust a cup before helping himself straight from the bottle. Watching Nifty scamper back into the lobby with towels to mop up the extra water, continuing to grumble to herself.

“Yeah, I s’pose... Wonder what she saw though..” Angel Dust sighed, taking the glass from the countertop and downed it in one gulp. “Had to be… pretty upsetting whatever it was.” 

“Yep… Whatever it was… Involved Charlie or something.” Husk continued, popping the cork back on the bottle before putting it back on the shelf like he hadn’t just taken a swig. Going back to playing with one of the dirty glasses. 

“And that strawberry pimp… who were alone together before,” Angel included, setting the glass back down before glancing down the hall towards the kitchen. Humming in contemplation as he brought a hand up to scratch his chin in confusion. 

The two sat in silence for several minutes, lost in thought as each mulled over what could’ve possibly sent Vaggie heading for the hills? Maybe Charlie didn’t want to talk to her and sent her away… Maybe Alastor said something that upset her… maybe she-

“Sounds like she walked in on the two of them in the middle of having sex..” Nifty interjected, glancing up from her mopping just long enough to watch the two men snap there gazes to her in shock. Nifty only shrugged at the two of them “what else could it have been?” And went back to her mopping, leaving the other demons in stunned silence.

…

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

“When Adam won Eve's hand, He wouldn't stand for teasin',”

“A-Alastor! D-don’t stoP-” Charlie cried, arching her back against the cool metal backsplash of the kitchen, each rhythmic thrust pushed her higher up the wall. Only to have her lover yank her back down with a harsh tug from his grip on her hips, keeping her body flush to his and holding on tight with every feverish grind. Fireworks fizzled up her spine and exploded in the back of her head every time Alastor managed to graze against a spot deep within her, sending all her senses spinning. 

Gripping onto his tattered shirt like her only lifeline. The only coherent thought that she had was his name, and even then it came out in breathless gasps and slurred utterances. Pleasure clouding her mind as all she was able to focus on was sweet release, burying the bridge of her nose into the crook of his neck, gasping out a desperate plea for him to finish within her.

“He didn't care about”

“Those apples out of season!”

There were very few things that got to Alastor, he always managed to keep his composure in even the most hectic occasions. And he always prided himself in that. Yet, here he was, upon hearing her request in such a desperate and needy tone. The feeling of her body writing against his, begging to finish Her hands, the way her nails scratched at his skin, the sheer want and desire that seeped from every inch of her body. It was enough to make even the most stoic man unravel, and the Radio Demon was no exception. Lurching forward and holding the demoness as close as he could, he felt his entire being shudder from his release. Each spasm earning a low hiss to slip past his fangs. 

“They say the Spring,”

“Means just one thing to little lovebirds;”

Charlie couldn’t hold back the cry that past her lips, letting it fade into Alastors breath as she rode out her own release. Keeping her face hidden against his neck as she tried to steady her breathing, only ragged gasps blustering out as she felt his warmth release deep within her core. All she could do was cling to him, arms tight around his chest as her body started to finally settle.

“We're not above birds,”

“Let’s Misbehave~”

[ilikepjo24]

"Where's he been? Who gives a shit!"

Vox you've literally got no idea, Alastor's DYING for someone to ask lmao he's such an attention whore, I can't!

[correlance]

I can practically hear Alastor saying "grr" under his breath here.