#rest in fucking pieces for alastors pride

[hellsrings-radio-synz-777]

[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!

[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. 

[allastoredeer]

THAT MOMENT YOU REALIZE ALASTOR IS ACTUALLY WAY SCARIER THAN WE GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR

So, in the throes of doing world-building for my Hazbin fics and analyzing characters and how they fit into Pentagram's political system, I realized not only how powerful Alastor actually is, but how fucking scary.

Now, yes, in the grand scheme of things, Alastor is far from the most powerful person in Hell. Far from it. The Royal Family (Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie), and the Goetia are way above the Overlords. Our twinky, angsty, galaxy bird, Stolas, could 100% body Alastor. I'm sorry, Al. I love you, babe. But in terms of the hierarchal system, you and the other Overlords aren't influential to the rest of Hell, at all.

But, it's an entirely different story if we stick exclusively to the Pride Ring.

I'm not trying to do a big, essay-length analysis, that's a lot of work and I'm tired, so I'll try to make it as brief as possible.

We know three crucial things: 1) sinners aren't allowed to leave the Pride Ring, 2) they've built a semi-functional society for themselves that is exclusive to their specific ring (with a political system that they've molded just for them), and 3) sinners can't kill other sinners.

So, what we have here is a big piece of land stuffed with people who can't leave it, in a society they've built specifically for themselves, with an amassing population that is constantly growing because they have no way of dying/or killing each other. (Honestly, it's like Heaven was setting them up for an Exterminations - THOUGH I'VE ACTUALLY COME UP WITH A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT, COMPLETELY FANON BASED THEORY/WORLD BUILDING IDEA ABOUT HOW HELL HAD KEPT THE POPULATION DENSISTY CONTROLLED FOR THE MILLENIA OF COLLECTING HUMAN SOULS, HOW THE POPLUATION STILL GOT TOO LARGE AND THUS RESULTED IN THE EXTERMINATIONS, AND HOW IT WAS ROSIE WHO HAD A HUGE HAND IN IT ALL.

Anyway, back on topic, so the Overlords essentially control this Ring. We know Stolas lives in the Pride Ring (judging by the red sky we see when he's at his house), so its possible more Goetia live there too (and imps, and succubi; the Pride Ring is known for being the most diverse of the Rings), but we haven't seen any evidence of the Goetia, or any of the other Hellborn, interact or influencE Pentragram City in a political way--outside of the Goetia being above the Overlords in the hierarchal system). I headcanon that they do have some involvement in Pentagram City, as they do live there, but for the most part, the Pride Ring is left completely to the sinners and how they run things.

Lillith got involved, obviously (but she's been missing for years in the beginning of the show), Lucifer hasn't been involved for who knows how long, and Charlie obviously doesn't have a lot of sway, nor did she have any previous influence given how she's treated by the very people she rules over. Her status is known, but there's no actual respect for her or her title as the literal Princess of Hell.

The royal family may the the strongest beings in all of the 7 Rings, but outside of Lillith, it seems they had very little involvement (in Charlie's case) or interest (in Lucifer's case) in ingratiating themselves into Pentagram City.

The entire Ring is being run by the Overlords. They cannot leave it. The Pride Ring is their domain. This is their new home. This is their world.

And in this world, the Overlords are the top dogs.

So, Alastor is powerful just in the sense that he is one of the Overlords. Like them, he is essentially one of the rulers of their personal, caged-off little world. He has power and political sway. He joined the other Overlords for Carmilla's meeting, where they were going to discuss the aftermath of the Extermination and what they can do about the loss in the population (and thus, their power, given that owning souls is how they get it).

It's implied that this isn't the first time they've had meetings like this, and if they get together to discuss the best ways to recover from the Exterminations and make up for their mutual losses (literally working together when they could've all just been rivals trying to undermine the others to get more souls), who knows what else they've discussed in their efforts to keep Pentagram City running (especially considering that the best way to maintain their power IS by maintaining the city, it's people, and keeping it from falling apart at the seams. Taking care of the city is in their best interests - I use "taking care of" very, very loosely, considering this is still Hell and it's hardly the gold standard of utopia's). They're essentially a Board of Leadership with mutually shared power.

The Overlords have all the power. All the sway. In their established world, THEY are at the top of the food chain.

BUT then, you take into account that sinners can't kill each other (a rule that extends even to the Overlords), and that's when things get interesting.

In episode 4, "Masquerade" Valentino told Angel that he's "killed people for less" during the scene in the dressing room. But, in episode 2, after Valentino had torn apart one of Velvette's models, she wasn't upset in the way an Overlord would be if they lost someone under contract, especially considering that owning souls is what gives them power (and I assume that they own the souls of most, if not all, of the people they employ). She said that she can't sit and wait for "that bitch to pull herself back together," so, yeah, the implication is that sinners can literally be torn apart (even by the Overlords, who are the strongest among them) but won't die is immense. No matter what you do, a sinner will reform, or heal, or whatever, but they will come back.

So, consider, that there is only one person who's been able to kill sinners, permanently, and that person is Alastor.

Not only that, he killed Overlords.

In a realm where death is impossible, Alastor had cheated the system. And as far as we know, he's the only one who's been able to do it.

The only person I can think of who has something similar is Carmilla, but that's because she'd integrated angelic steel into her apparel. (Though, there's something to be said about her selling angelic weapons to the masses, as she is a manufacturer and distributor of them not only in Pentagram city, but all of the 7 Rings, (as Stryker had gotten his hands on a "Carmine blessing tipped rifle" to kill off Stolas, who's a Goetia), thus, sinners killing other sinners can still be possible, but that's only if they get you're hands on a weapon with angelic steel, or they're wealthy enough to buy onr, and I imagine Carmilla doesn't sell those cheap.

But Alastor didn't use angelic steel. He found a way to tear souls apart, where otherwise they were only able to be owned. Considering how terrified Husk (who is one of the most calm and collected people in the Hazbin crew; who had once been an Overlord, himself) was when AIastor threatened to do they same to him, like, that goes to show just how serious it is. He was literally full-body shaking. Ears-pinned back. Flight-fight-or freeze. Pressing himself down into the carpet.

We've never seen him like that at any other time during the show, even during the Extermination when they were all about to die.

Alastor's threat had scared him more than literally getting killed my an army of Exorcist's.

And like, yeah???? I get it????

That shit has to be terrifying. Not only for those that Alastor threatens, but for every single sinner in Pentagram City.

This random guy cheated the system, killed without any outside means, and if he can topple Overlords (the strongest and most powerful of them) almost over night, there's no saying what he can do to regular sinners. (Or what they think he can do, I have more thoughts surrounding whether Alastor would be able to tear apart a soul that is owned by someone else, but this is already getting long).

And, presumably, the only reason he stopped is because he decided to.

Like???? Do you guys understand what I'm saying???? For someone to have that kind of power??? In a system where that power SHOULD NOT be possible??? A power that gives him this massive advantage over everyone else???? That no one else can do???? And the only reason he doesn't use it is because he decides not to????

It's no wonder Alastor was so feared. Why he still is feared (by those who know of him at least LOL he has been gone for 7 years). And, like, yeah we see him be all creepy and scary during the show. We see him use his magic and grow into his demon form, and he is intimidating in that right, but I think the true horror of his character comes from this ability to kill the unkillable in a system where it never should've been possible in the first place.

That's where the true terror of the Radio Demon lies. That's where the visceral fear comes from. And it's why he's someone you wouldn't want to mess with, even for the other Overlords (especially for the other Overlords).

Like, it makes sense why he has such a massive ego. Why he thinks he can take on anyone. It's because he has. He's powerful, even by Overlord standards, and he knows it. And it makes further sense why him now being on a leash is making him unravel at the seams.

Am I making sense??? Is this all just meaningless rambling to you guys??? Idk! Idk. It's just been tumbling through my head, and it made me realize just how scary Alastor is, especially from an outside perspective.

I have SO many headcanons T.T I've done so much world-building, and I am have so much fucking fun. I feel like a kid in a sandbox. My brain hasn't stopped buzzing since this show came out.

Anyway, I'm off to outline more wips and work on the fics I'm writing. Happy Hazbin-ing to the rest of you.

[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.

[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. 

[seizethedre]

(In the Land of Gods and Monsters)

Chapter Six: Living in the Garden of Evil

The King of Hell is a real piece of work, but he's getting there. The Radio Demon is a piece of work too, but he seems much more content to stay where he is, which is fine too. Somehow, they manage.

Ten thousand years of being the supreme ruler of Hell tended to teach you a thing or two about yourself. For one, Lucifer was powerful-–like really powerful. And while the other Sins came close to that power, none of them could ever quite measure up to the fallen angel. 

Lucifer had always known his strength, of course. Even in Heaven, he knew his status and his gifts were worthy of envy, you know, if angels were capable of such feelings. Sinners certainly wanted his power, just ask any overlord out there. The occasional coup was nothing new, either, and the king had come to expect one every few centuries or so, with just enough time between them for the shockwaves of the last one to settle and the balance of powers to redistribute themselves again.

It was never anything to worry about and most ended with big, scary tough guys reduced to blubbering pools of tears as they pleaded for their afterlives. And no, he wasn’t exaggerating when he said that a sinner’s existence could be obliterated with a single bored blink of his eye.

Not that Lucifer particularly enjoyed killing sinners all willy-nilly, but he had to maintain law and order somehow, and being in Hell the options for doing so were already severely limited. So squashing bad guys it was. Did he feel bad about it? Not really. He’d never felt that same loyalty to his people that his ex-wife and daughter did, and quite frankly he’d stopped trying to force it out of himself a few thousand years ago, but he was trying. Recent events and relationships persuaded him to reconsider his stance on sinners and maybe, just maybe, he was starting to get it.

Still, you couldn’t blame the guy for wanting to flaunt his power every now and then. There was, after all, no comparison to it in the entirety of the Seven Rings. Sometimes he couldn’t help himself and no one ever said that the First Temptation was ever immune to temptations himself.

Embodiment of pride aside, Lucifer should also be recognized as the embodiment of patience. You would think that after waiting for the creation of literally everything that people would give him more credit when it came to letting the stars align and fall into place at their own pace. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case and more often than not the assumption was that the King of Hell was an impatient little snake who wanted things done his way or no way at all.

Father, you push your agenda one time and suddenly you’re labeled as a devil for the rest of forever.

And so what if today happened to be one of the few times where Lucifer wished the stars would just go off and fuck themselves, alignment be damned. There wasn’t much that got him real fired up these days and his mind had been brewing all night long, practically vibrating in his bed where he tossed and turned restlessly, anxiously waiting for darkness to creep into something light enough that would allow him to bounce off the walls without making the other residents think he was an unreasonable loon. 

After running their little taste-testing errand the other day, Alastor and Lucifer had returned to the hotel in one piece-–much to the surprise of everyone else. The former didn’t linger long enough, slipping into a pool of vaporous shadow before he could be subjected to  Angel’s remarks about how their orderly states were clearly an indication of a budding, yet taboo love affair, because why else wouldn’t there be a single scratch on either of them? Thankfully, the king didn’t have to come back at him with anything before Husk smacked the spider upside the head with an irritated ‘Quit your yapping.’ And you know what, grouchiness aside, the guy was really starting to grow on Lucifer. 

Ha-ha! Take that, yapper.

The little excursion of his had served as a perfect reminder of what Lucifer had been missing. Clearly it had been a while since he’d really gotten himself out there, really gotten to know the people he ruled. Regardless of how they wound up here, they surely couldn’t be all bad. I mean, Wilson, at least he was pretty sure lizard-man’s name was Winston, was a fucking baker for crying out loud! There’s no way a guy who cares that much about the precision of the length of his decorative chocolate shavings can be a complete asshole, right? And if Lucifer was wrong about him, who knew what else he could be wrong about. 

Okay, so maybe he owed a little bit of this change in heart to Charlie and her friends, but he couldn’t argue the fact that they were a good influence on him. The simple fact that they stuck by the hotel to defend it spoke volumes of their character and commitment to its cause. Sure they had a few screws loose, but who didn’t own here? The fact of the matter is, they were living proof that even if redemption for a sinner in Hell wasn’t possible, at least change for the  better was still on the table. See, even the embodiment of Pride himself could admit when he was wrong, and maybe this was one of those times. And maybe that was all thanks to his daughter

Charlie had always been a bit of a bleeding heart. For years, this had worried her father tremendously. Hell was no place for such a tender spirit, and he was afraid that this place and these people would eat her alive just to spit her out and stomp all over her. The older she got the more he had tried to protect her from that, even when he wasn’t around. 

When she had first called him all those months ago asking for a shot to convince Heaven to let sinners prove themselves, Lucifer shot her down immediately. Not because he didn’t trust her vision, but because he didn’t trust Heaven. For all their talk about love and forgiveness, they were notorious for maintaining the status quo, regardless of how many souls they harmed in the process. Expecting to be disappointed in Hell was a given, but to have your hopes and dreams dashed by those meant to uplift and promote them was another and the thought of her enduring that all alone just as he had all those millennia ago broke his heart.

But she’d done it. She faced the firing squad all on her own and despite their treatment she continued to fight for her righteous cause, for her people and her friends. Lucifer couldn’t take credit for that courage. Maybe at one point, perhaps almost too long ago could he say that his heart burned with that same fire, but times, circumstances, had changed and he had no choice but to change alongside them. He was proud of his little girl, and now that he was here and determined to stick by her until the very end, whatever it would turn out to be, he wanted to help as much as he could.

And who knew, maybe in doing this, in helping Charlie, he would be able to reunite himself with that version of him that got a little lost along the way.

He also couldn’t deny the fact that Alastor’s little back-handed intervention sparked some new encouragement in him, too, as much as he hated to admit it. The demon was infuriating, but he’d had a point when he said that Lucifer was worrying pointlessly over things that didn’t require it. Instead, he decided that he would channel some of that energy into something productive, and hey, wouldn’t you know it Charlie maybe your little group therapy sessions really do hold up.

 Plus, it was about time he stopped holing himself in his rooms all the damn time, it didn’t really do anyone any good and besides, he was starting to look a little pale-–ha! He figured it wouldn’t hurt the hotel’s image, or his own for that matter, to be seen around the hotel playing a more conducive role than a scary guard dog. Surely people would be more willing to come and visit if they knew their friendly neighborhood devil was around to lend a helping hand. Who knows, maybe if things turned out as well as he hoped, Charlie would put him back on the welcoming committee.

Point of the matter was, Lucifer felt he had a lot more to offer than sitting around and pulling a mean face every now and then. He wanted to contribute to the hotel in a way that was productive and lent itself to the betterment of his people. He had learned a thing or two in his long life and was sure at least some of that had to come in handy at one point or another. And if this idea of his really did work out, it could help alleviate some of the burden that Charlie shouldered day in and day out. 

So, as the barest trickle of light crept past his curtains from outside, Lucifer sprang from his bed and set off to accomplish the first-–and only-–thing on his to-do list: start an art therapy club!

With a snap of his fingers the bed was remade with fresh linens, the old ones appearing in the basement’s laundry room. Thinking about his day, he settled on a more casual outfit befitting of the more casual events he had in mind, foregoing the hat and coat he typically opted for on more glamorous occasions. He then ran his fingers through his hair, allowing just enough of  his grace to flow past his fingertips to smooth and style his bed head into something neat and presentable, befitting of the King of Hell. Grace was by far the best hair product out there, hell knows how people lived without it. If he could bottle it up and sell it, he was sure it would sell out in minutes and he’d be swimming in cash, but some tricks were better left unrevealed. 

Pep in his step, he strode down the stairs, making it down the third flight before he decided that he simply couldn’t wait any longer and opened up a portal to the front lobby. Snapping it shut behind him, he took a look around the empty room, trying to figure out where Charlie might be that morning.

After he swung by to see if she and Vaggie were setting up for this morning’s bonding exercise in the parlor, he trotted along into the kitchen for some coffee. Hey, what’s that they say about two birds and a stone?

Much to his disappointment, there was no sign of Charlie once he parted his way past the double doors. There was, however, sign of a certain deer-man, and by sign he meant the whole fucking person. 

Alastor was sitting in his usual spot at the head of the dining table, you know, the one he had refused to give up despite the literal ruler of Hell being much more worthy of it. Not that Lucifer was still bitter about that or anything. The demon was reading the morning newspaper, steaming cup of something dark and bitter in a hot pink mug. Not exactly intimidating, but who was Lucifer to judge when his own mug sported the images of several cartoon ducks. However this was the first time that he noticed there was actual writing on the mug, which he craned his neck to read.

“Does your mug say ‘Oh Deer’ on it?”

“Hm?” Alastor hums, turning the mug in his hand as though observing it for the first time. “Why yes, it would appear to say just that. Very observant, Your Majesty. I see you’ve taken my advice and invested in some cognitive exercises. I’ve always been of the opinion that reading is good for the soul and the mind.”

“Har har, you’re especially hilarious in the morning, has anyone ever told you so?”

“I have been told that I have quite the sense of humor. Who am I to argue with the masses?”

Lucifer pulled a face at his reply, just an impulse away from sticking his tongue out at the back of the sinner’s head for good measure. Eh, why not. It’s not like he could see him anyway.

“I saw that.” 

Shit . That was creepy

“You deserved it,” he sang in response, plucking his mug from its designated hook and filled it with coffee. It was still hot and warmed his hands deliciously. He took a cautious sniff and although it certainly smelled normal enough, he knew he could never be too careful.

“Did you brew the coffee this morning?”

“I don’t believe that anyone else was awake to do it.” Fair point.

“...Did you poison it?”

Alastor set the paper down with a huff, ears twitching in irritation. 

“Do you really think I would be drinking it if I had?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t actually seen you drink it since I got here.” Alastor says nothing, but raises his mug dramatically to his lips and takes a long sip, flicking his gaze pointedly in the king’s direction. Lucifer watches suspiciously for a few moments after he sets his mug back down on the table with a little clack.

“Satisfied?”

“For now. I suppose.” He takes his own careful sip and smacks his lips. His impeccable palate has never failed him before, and today it’s telling him that he’ll live to see another day. Hooray!

“I don’t know why you throw such a fuss over such trivial things. It’s not like there’s anything that I could actually harm you with in this realm.” And oh, was that irritation Lucifer was picking up on? Genuine emotion from mister Big and Bad himself? Rarely did anyone ever get anything but mockery and sarcasm out of the guy, so this morning was already shaping up to be a good one by Lucifer’s standards.

“Hm, you know if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’re a little upset that I’m always one step ahead of you. What’s the matter, deer , afraid of being outsmarted?

“Not at all, Your Majesty .” he ground out between clenched teeth. “ I would simply think that you would have more faith in your own durability, rather than throw a fit any time I’m near something you  hope to ingest. Heaven forbid the word gets out that Hell's one and only monarch is a fragile little thing. Oh my, think of the headlines!”

“Aw, Al, I didn’t realize how much you cared. No need to worry about me, though. I’m a big boy who can  handle himself, thanks.”

“I know you may find it difficult to believe, but my thoughts don’t always revolve around you. And my name is Alastor . I’d appreciate it if you could struggle to the end of it. I know that’s a lot to ask of  you these days.” That smile had curved into something mean, challenging even.

 Okay, so that’s how he wants to play, huh? Bring it on then.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, coffee long forgotten as flames licked the back of his mouth, ready to spew.

“Good morning, Alastor! How did you-–Oh! Dad, you’re here, too! Good morning!”

One of Charlie’s many gifts was her impeccable timing. Growing up, she always knew just the right moment to enter a room and  catch her parents in, erm, more compromising positions.. That was why her sudden bursting into the kitchen right as verbal fists were about to start flying came to no one’s surprise, especially her father’s. These days, it seemed that sixth sense of hers came in handy when it boiled down to preventing altercations before they escalated to property damage proportions. Crisis thoroughly averted, the flames smothered as Lucifer beamed at his little girl. Alastor spared the smaller man a twitch before resuming his study of the morning paper.

“Char-Char! How’s my little girl doing this fine morning? Slept well, I hope?” The king bounced himself into one of the barstools at the breakfast bar. He cupped his face in his hands as he leaned intently over the counter, eyes sparkling as he watched Charlie grab two mugs for coffee. 

Was he overbearing? Perhaps a little, but he couldn’t help that his sweet daughter was like a literal ray of sunshine in this dark and smelly pit he called home. She dove right into her coffee, clearly oblivious to the dangers of potential-assassination attempts, which he would definitely be speaking to her about later. She sighed, releasing a breath as she forced her shoulders to relax.

“Good coffee, Al. As always.” The demon merely hummed his acknowledgement of the compliment, not bothering with taking his eyes off of the news. She turned her attention to the angel. “I slept well, dad, thanks for asking. Thank god because I have so much to do today.” Charlie began rattling off the items on her mental to-do list, going from casual to agitated in the span of a few seconds.

“First I have to go over the final decorations for the Open House–-again, thank you so much for covering desserts, you’re a real life-saver, dad. Then there’s some laundry I promised Niffty I would help her with in the afternoon, and our yoga instructor was murdered last night so I have to figure out how to fill his time slot in the evening  and on top of that it’s my turn to cook dinner tonight and Vaggie won’t be around to help this time so it’s going to take me twice as long as it usually does. Ooh, that’s not even including the meeting I have with Aunty Bee about those new spirits for the bar and--”

“Whoa, whoa,” Lucifer interrupted, seeing no end in sight to her itinerary and only mounting levels of stress. “Pause for a second, Charlie. Breathe. There you go.” She’d gone red in the face at that point, her tail springing out from agitation and best get that under control before she started knocking things, or people, over. The princess smiled sheepishly, mumbling her apologies .

“My, that does seem like quite the list of chores you’ve got there. But, leave it to our dear Charlie to get it all done.” Lucifer scowled over his shoulder at the demon sipping casually from his mug without a single care in the world.

“Um, excuse me, Al , but  I was under the impression that you were brought on board to help run the hotel. Shouldn’t you be helping out here?”

“Hm, shouldn’t you , Your Majesty? I do recall you saying something about wanting to play a more active role in your daughter’s life. Now would be the perfect time to do just that, don’t you think so, dear?”

Alastor finally put the damn newspaper down, settling his smile first on Lucifer before swiveling it over to Charlie, who had been standing around suspiciously quiet as the two men went at it. She startled at the mention of her name, eyes going big and round as though caught in the middle of something she really didn’t want to be a part of. 

“Um, well, I-–”

“Of course I’m going to help her,” Lucifer yelled, cutting Charlie off before she could finish her thought. “In fact, we’re both  going to help you, sweetie. Isn’t that right, Al?” Try to weasel your way out of it now, bitch.

“I appreciate the offer, dad really, but I don’t want you to feel like this is something you have to do. You’re a busy guy, I get that. I’m sure Alastor has his own things to do, too. Plus,” she added quietly, “I know how easily you get overwhelmed these days. It’s okay, I can handle this.” Lucifer faltered at her words, visibly deflating and allowed his facade to fall for a split second before throwing an arm around her shoulder and grinning.

“Nonsense, Charlie! In fact, that’s exactly why I wanted to talk to you this morning. Yoga man couldn’t have picked a better time to die, ha ha!” Hm, poor choice of words maybe, but honest nonetheless. “What would you think about filling that evening slot with an art therapy session? Led by yours truly, of course.” 

Charlie seemed to mull it over as Lucifer held his wide smile, examining her face as she went through the pros and cons. On one hand, she knew that her dad didn’t exactly have a one-track mind, in fact most of the time he was the entire train station. And although she didn’t doubt his capacity for patience and empathy, a lot of sinners that came through the hotel required a more delicate hand and her dad tended to fall on the more oblivious side of the spectrum when it came to emotional cues. 

On the other hand, this could turn out to be a really good thing. For the hotel and for her dad. She knew he really was trying to change, to see these people as his own. Perhaps spending time with them while doing something that he loved was the motivation he needed to finally get him to where he needed to be. And if she was being honest, her dad was a really talented artist. For years she had wondered why he never truly divulged that part of himself with others, outside of his ducks, of course, but she’d concluded that for some reason his art was deeply personal and emotional to him. The fact that he was offering to share it with strangers all in the name of progress was monumental and she was wise enough to understand just how big of an ask this was.

“Are you sure about this dad? I don’t want you to feel pressured into taking on a challenge that you’re not ready for.” Her smile was small, but sincere, eyes shining with nothing but love and understanding. The sight was almost enough to bring tears to her father’s eyes. His daughter truly was the best. 

“Don’t worry about me, ducky. Your old man can handle it. Would I offer to do it if I wasn’t sure?”

“I suppose not,” she sniffed, brushing a finger under her eye. “Thanks, dad.”

The two embraced, Charlie crouching down a bit so Lucifer could run a gentle hand over her hair, a larger imitation of how he used to cradle her in his arms when she was little and in need of a good cuddle.

This is nice , Lucifer thought to himself. He couldn’t have asked for a better outcome to this conversation.

“What a tender moment. I hate to interrupt, but I’ll be doing so anyway. Charlie dear, don’t you worry your silly little head about dinner tonight. I would be more than glad to step in. Rosie shared the most delightful little recipe with me just the other day and this is as good an excuse as any other to try it out.” The demon blinked, all wide smile and bright eyes as the pair in front of him turned a pale green at his suggestion for supper. “I will be going the vegetarian route, rest assured!” Oh, okay, yeah that’s more like it.

“Really, Al? Aw, you guys are so sweet. You don’t know how much this means to me. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Charlie, whose tears had finally settled down, tried to smile through wobbly lips and glistening eyes. Alastor waved a hand dismissively in her direction.

Oh, don’t thank me. I think I speak for all of us when I say I’d be doing us a favor in cooking our meal knight in your place. The kitchen is practically brand new, it would be a shame to let it go up in flames so soon, hm?”

“Alastor,” the king warned.

“No dad, it’s okay. He’s right. I didn’t exactly inherit the cooking gene, did I?” And Lucifer found that he couldn’t necessarily argue with that point either.

“You just need a little more practice, that’s all,” he tried, a half-hearted grin hanging off his lips. The princess just laughed, visibly far more relaxed than she had been ten minutes ago. Good, good. 

“Well, this has been a delightful morning, you two, but I’m afraid I must be off now. Important things to do and whatnot. A hotelier’s work is never quite done, after all. Ta ta!” 

With a warp of white noise, the Radio Demon melted into the shadows at his feet, taking with him the ambient noise that had accompanied their morning encounter.

“Huh, that was weird,” Charlie said absently.

“Hm?” Lucifer inquired, raising a brow.

“Al didn’t take his staff with him. He usually never leaves without it.” She paused, seeming to consider something for a few seconds. ‘Come to think of it, he hasn’t had it out much lately either. Not in the hotel at least. It could be nothing,” she rushed to add, seeing the wary interest on the king’s face and immediately knowing that she had let her mouth run unsupervised for far too long. “I know he can pull it out of whatever pocket dimension or wherever he keeps it anytime he wants, I just thought it was odd that he doesn’t seem to be using it as much lately. I’m sure it’s nothing.” She looked around the room anxiously, eyes settling on her watch.

“Oh! Look at the time! I gotta go dad, I’m supposed to be helping Vaggie set up for trust exercises this morning. Love you, bye!” With those parting words she scurried out of the room, hands loaded up with two lukewarm mugs of coffee.

So Charlie had noticed Alastor’s odd behavior too, huh? She was far more observant than people gave her credit for, that much is true. 

Lucifer thought back to the last time he’d seen Alastor with his staff, when he was out in public galavanting around Pentagram City with the tall cannibal woman. But Charlie was right, now that he thought about it, it had been a while since he’d actually seen the demon conjure it up within the safety of the hotel, if at all. Not since he mysteriously reappeared after the hotel was rebuilt, seemingly unscathed despite squaring off with Adam.

The devil’s thoughts were racing now, branching out and spiraling in all sorts of directions, jumping to conclusions just to dismiss them and start anew. Despite the web of emotions and possibilities, the overarching truth that stood out from all of the questions and half-threaded leads was that Alastor was hiding something. Maybe even something big. And Lucifer would rather fall all over again than turn a blind eye to something that could endanger his little girl and this new life they were building together.

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[festive-unserious-fellow]

I cannot stress this enough, when I say "I think Alastor should be in the wrong in his and Vox's friend divorce" I am NOT trying to minimize Vox's actions. Like I said in my dv is dv post, Vox is a terrible person on his own. He willingly works with Val despite knowing all the shit he does and literally spies on the entire pride ring for fun, and there is no universe where that is Alastor's fault. I hate how we, as a fandom, are at a point where people assume that saying something like "I think this character got a lil fucked over by this character" equates to out right apologism. Especially considering that people who say Vox is in the wrong don't get accused of excusing Alastor's actions? Because like. Alastor sucks to. Neither of them are good people. Vox may be an enabling piece of shit, but Alastor is literally a cannibalistic serial killer who's treatment of Husk has been equated to Val's treatment of Angel on multipile occasions and is actively manipulating Charlie. They both fucking suck-

Actually no you know what? There's just overall a really weird double standard between how the fandom treats Vox(and the rest of the Vees tbh) & Alastor's actions. Like, nobody ever talks about how shit Al is to Husk, we don't talk about how he's a LITERAL SERIAL KILLER, but with Vox it's always "remember all the Vees are terrible" this or "he can't be in an abusive situation because he's a bad person" that. It's really getting on my f u c k i n g nerves. Why is Alastor, who is JUST AS BAD AS VOX, allowed to be sympathetic, but Vox isn't? And no, I don't care if Alastor has a "moral code" or whatever the fuck, because LOOK AT THE WAY HE TREATS HUSK OH MY FUCKING GOD- if the Vees aren't allowed to be sympathetic, neither is Alastor. Simple as that.

Sorry for getting heated there but IT'S FUCKING TRUE!!!!!! Idk if it's cause Alastor is a main character and Vox is an antagonist, Idk if it's cause Alastor won the dis track, Idk if it's cause Vox gets woobified too much(which, fyi, Alastor does too, also going too hard in the opposite direction isn't a good solution to that problem anyway)but it still gets on my DAMN NERVES- bitches cannot handle a morally gray situation Istg. Liking a fictional character who is a bad person does not mean you excuse their actions, thinking a character who is a bad person got screwed over by another character who is just as bad as them does not mean you excuse their actions, and somehow people are more understanding of these concepts when it comes to Alastor then they are with Vox. It's really fucking annoying.

DISCLAIMER: I am not trying to attack people who think this way. My frustration in this post is ultimately meaningless because I am but a little guy on the internet talking about made up demons. I always get nervous that ppl will see my posts and think I'm attacking them because this is the internet and people have a tendancy to get mad over this kinda thing, but I just want to make it clear THIS IS JUST ME VENTING FRUSTRATIONS I AM NOT TRYING TO ATTACK YOU PERSONALLY

[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.

[irrlicht-ghostfront]

fireworks to light the sky

Characters: Husk, Alastor, Niffty (mentioned)

Pairing: Husk/Alastor, Husk & Alastor

Summary: They were all gone. He didn’t really remember how they died, but they must’ve died in the bombings. He should’ve died too. Instead here he was, huddling behind some measly cover in a god-forsaken shack hoping he wouldn’t be found. If only the bombings would stop, then he could leave and find his way back to base - but then the noise stops and the red soldier comes in.

A/N: I decided I don’t need to write long stories anymore. If something’s short, it’s good too. So yeah, not much else to say (: TW/CW: PTSD, War mention, Death mention

@saschagemruler

____________________________________________________

They were everywhere.

He could hear them outside and all he could do was huddle inside this tiny little shack and wait for it to be over. He was alone, too. He didn’t quite remember how his team-mates died, but Husk was sure it must’ve been in the bombings.

There was no weapon in his hands.

He must’ve lost it during running away. What would his commander say? Of course, that would require him to make it out of the hot zone alive. Of course, that would require his commander to still be alive. Husk didn’t even know where he was. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what his mission was supposed to be. Had it been to simply check the village? See if there could be a tactical position? He didn’t remember. He didn’t remember.

Not that it mattered now, anyway. With the constant bombings he wasn’t able to scout out anything. The worst thing was – if he got out of here alive, they might give him a medal. He didn’t want a medal. He’s done nothing heroic this whole war.

What good would a medal do? It wouldn’t bring those back that died. Shit, it wouldn’t even honour them. It would simply remind him for the rest of his days that he was an utter and complete failure.

 Boom.

 Fuck that had been close. Were they honing in on his position? But how did they do that? He didn’t have anything. He didn’t have a radio that they could try to track. He must’ve lost that thing too, when he was running away. What a failure. What if his commander had tried to reach him, but he was such a klutz that he lost the one fucking radio they’ve had?

He pressed his head in between in knees. It’d be over soon. If he was lucky, they wouldn’t hit his shelter. If he was luckier, they would hit his shelter. He didn’t know what he was hoping for but maybe – maybe it was the latter. If he died, he didn’t have to go back. If he died, he didn’t have to face the consequences of his survival.

If he just died, it would be over. He would go home.

Home in a casket, yes, but he’d go home.

So maybe he should head outside.

And if he died, the bombings would stop. They’d never come back.

 Come to think of it...

The bombings stopped. There were no more sounds from outside. There went his foul-proof plan. But he wasn’t stupid enough to think the danger’s passed. Oh no. Now, the enemy soldiers would swarm the place to eradicate every survivor.

He needed a weapon – anything to defend himself with. It didn’t matter what it was. It was one way to die by being bombed, but being shot in the head? Or worse, being taken prisoner? What would they think? Stupid Husk got captured and would probably blabber out every secret he knew.

He clenched his jaw. No. No, that wouldn’t happen. He might be a disappointment that failed to die with his team-mates, but he would not turn into a prisoner. He’d die in dignity – as least as much as he could still muster after cowering here in fear.

Husk took a few deep breaths. He could do this. He could get out of this alive. Playing dead wasn’t an option – he wore military uniform. They’d butt his head with the rifle and that would kill him. They wouldn’t waste a bullet on a presumably dead soldier but they wouldn’t take any chances with him either. Most likely, they’d stab him with a dagger too, just to make sure he was dead.

No.

The only choice was to fight and run. There was no honour found on the battlefield.

Here, there was only death. There was no glory, no victory.

There were just dead men that would never see their home again. There were just dead civilians who did nothing wrong but to live in the wrong place.

And back home, nobody would understand.

“Thank you for your service.”

“You’ve done our country a great honour.”

“It’s an honour to meet you.”

And then there was the – the idolising. He balled his fists. There’d be all these little boys looking at soldiers and then telling their mommies that they wanted to be a soldier too. And then their mothers would encourage it and their fathers would tell them how proud they were.

There was no glory in war.

There was no pride in standing on the battlefield.

There was no courage in lying in the trenches, waiting for a shot.

There was only pain, and misery, and death.

And back home, nobody would care about that.

 There.

He heard rustling outside the door. It seemed they finally made it to this little shack. Fine. He’s made up his mind. He’d wait, and then he’d ambush them. He had no weapon, but his fists would need to do. He could do this. He trained for this.

“Husk?” Shit. Shit, how did they know his name? Did they specifically look for him? Why? He wasn’t important, he was just an ordinary soldier. Maybe he lost his dog tag. But that wouldn’t explain why they used his nickname. It didn’t matter. So, they knew he was here. Maybe they didn’t know he was in this particular house. It’d still be okay. He could still ambush them. He peeked from behind his cover. It was just one man, from the looks of it. He had something long in his hand, but Husk couldn’t quite tell what gun it was. Never mind, it needed to leave the enemy’s hand. He looked scrawny, so he’d probably be easy to overpower. Good.

“Husk, why are you hiding behind the couch?”

Shit. Shit, he’s seen him. Okay. No point in hiding anymore. Let him get just a bit closer and then attack. He could do this. He’d still feel safer if he’d at least have a knife or anything. But he could do it. He was a soldier. He wasn’t afraid.

“I didn’t know you were this bad at hide-and-seek, Husker. Is this how you keep letting Niffty win?”

Now was his chance to strike. The guy was close enough. Husk leaped from behind his hiding spot and jumped at this guy’s throat. The guy was pretty tall, but he had the advantage of being the aggressor. He could do it. Just overthrow the enemy, knock him out, take his weapon and book it. He’d find a radio somewhere, maybe even other people from his side.

He managed to knock the guy down, but his enemy was quick to grasp his wrists and turn him flat on his back. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. That didn’t go as planned. He had to fight. He had to fight. So he did. He bucked and wriggled but the guy’s grip was iron-tight. At least they were locked now. That meant the guy wouldn’t be able to use his weapon either. So he could still turn this around and win. Maybe a scare-tactic would work?

Husk looked at the guy’s face – and all he saw was red. Oh god. This guy was so red. Did he kill so many that even his hair got stained with blood? How was he to stand against such a ruthless killer? He suddenly lost all will to fight. He couldn’t expect mercy from this guy. So he bucked and wriggled again, but this time with the intent to just run. Just run anywhere he could; as far away from this guy as possible. Is this why he came alone? Was it because he didn’t need a squad to help him?

“Please just let me go, I don’t know anything, please –“

He never thought he’d resort to begging, but – he didn’t want to die. He was terrified of dying here. They’d hail him a hero if they’d ever knew about him at all and this would never end. Of course, him being alive wouldn’t change a thing, either, but – he just wanted to stay alive, alright?

He still didn’t have a family.

There were still magic tricks he wanted to learn.

There were still gambles he hadn’t taken.

There was still booze he hadn’t tried out.

Was it too much to ask for just one more day?

The enemy yelled at him. At least that’s what he thought it was. Maybe it was him; the little, pathetic soldier that would be hailed a hero after the war. He should be forgotten. He should be forgotten. He should be –

He blacked out.

 When he came to, he was being held. It felt nice. It was a bit cold, but it wasn’t overly uncomfortable. There was a hand on his head too, and that felt quite nice as well.

Husk didn’t remember what happened.

He was...

He couldn’t say.

It felt like there was some sort of fog in his head and he couldn’t clear it out.

“Husk.”

It was Alastor’s voice. Of course it was him. As terrifying that thought was, hearing his voice was soothing right now. If the Radio Demon was here, he didn’t need to worry about anything.

“Are you with me?”

What a strange question to ask. Husk closed his eyes and pressed closer to Alastor. Physical contact was so rare; he’d take every little piece of it he could get. Hearing his heart beat and feel him breathing was oddly satisfying.

“I’m always gonna be with you.”

[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!