#saunteredintohell

[the-smallest-star]

@saunteredintohell

Astor: Hear me out...Let me eat the imp

"No."

[voxiiferous]

📖 Lackadaisy

**| Despite it having been all over my dash when it released, I've not actually seen it yet! But the character page on their website is great and conceptually right up my alley. On vibes alone I have to go Modecai Heller or Serafine Savoy!

[nohalosinhell-archive]

saunteredintohell asked:

A breadstick for Arackniss

He is going to look Pierre dead in the eyes when he accepts the breadstick. “Thank you.”

[hellcab]

⍤ : What does your muse’s voice sound like? Is it light? High pitched? Scratchy? Deep? 

{{ Scratchy could describe it. Though, gasoline on vinyl could also describe it. He used to sound good, almost choir worthy. Tobacco and absinthe corroded his good vocals. }}

[singthesongsofsin]

Leans gently against Hellaina's shoulder, hoping to take a cuddly nap. (Also ☆ because you're one of my favorite blogs too)

💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡 @saunteredintohell

Hellaina looks over at the pressure on her shoulder, smiling slightly, and shifting in her seat so it's slightly more comfortable for both of them.

She looks back at her laptop, half a dozen tabs open on the screen, and returns to the never-ending emails.

[radi0activesmile]

Please tell me anonymously or not why you follow me. I could use some positive messages

saunteredintohell said:

A+ Alastor 🥺

Thank you!!  🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺

[a-hazbin-spider]

✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏

Raptor you are perfection keep being you, you funky little turkey!

OI HEY HEY-

Hhhhhhhhhgshsj hey guess what you’re very much loved by me and I would kill for you! You better know you’re a swell and very cool little scamp!

[hellizens-a]

@saunteredintohell: Why do I love this for Husk so much? XD

It’s a glorious headcanon.

Let the cat show his affection the best way he knows how: killing small mammals and plopping them at the Radio Demon’s feet...or in his lap.

[get-dusted]

Skrunkle, hype, friendo

I'm glad I am both scrunkle and friendo, yeah there's a bit of hype there, but I just go off the energy I see and get overexcited. :D

[furby-organist]

Happy birthmas!!!!

// THANKS!!!!!!

[the-smallest-star]

@shadowofthehost "Do I win?"

"Am I just-... really easy or something?"

[voxiiferous]

⇷⇷⇷

Send “⇷” to view a memory from my muse’s past life. | @saunteredintohell

I. Circa 1996.

He should get up, it's the first solid thought he's had since Val left. Stormed out. His screen isn't broken this time, which is more than can be said for their last break up. Four years ago their breakups had numbered in the single digits-- less than 5, and the number of times Valentino had broken his screen had been the same. Now... both were slowly ticking up, faster and faster with each year.

He had been good at math-- liked graphs, and if he had bothered to put this on a line, it would be fucking exponential. Val is always os apologetic after each time though, dates, and kind words, and promises he won't do it again.

He's in his bath, sort of. It's one of those fancy glass showers, where there's no edges, just a wall. He's half dressed, and had gotten... is distracted the right word when there hadn't been anything aside from his own energy failure. There's a puddle surrounding the drain, and he watches as a single drop coalesces on the tap and drops. It's a hollow sound, as it splashes against the metal or the water below the drain proper.

As he watches, another drop collects, and he watches, transfixed as it gathers itself together, growing heavy on the rim but not dropping either. When will the surface tension break, when will gravity win?

It's uncomfortable, he's uncomfortable. The small of his back is dry, but he knows when he moves, and his shoulders shift from where they're pressed against the shower wall, won't be.

It was late when Val left, and he's been staring at the tap now for... he has no idea. His alarm clock is in his bedroom, and the bathroom door is blocking it from view. The bathroom lights don't help anything, they're always the same.

He's not even tired so much as empty, like he should have expected this. He'd begun noticing these moments more and more: wake up, go to work, go on a date and come back just to do it all again.

It's fine, it's fine. He's sure that once he starts work on their new project-- streaming, as some of their newest hires have talked about as the newest turn in human media-- that the boredom will fade away, and he and Valentino will be back to how they were.

The second drop falls.

II. Circa 1940.

It's just past midnight and the bar is quiet. Vincent is gently swaying to the music, and the table closest to him has a lesbian couple that's laughing at him.

"Aren't you fancy, Vince? New job, new medium." He's only been with the television for a few months, but he'd gotten to be on screen for the firs time today instead of running around backstage, adjusting camera angles and making sure that the news they were reporting is accurate.

He laughs, and the man he's dancing with twirls him lazily. "You know me, Tessa, always on the cutting edge of news."

She nods, and her hand with the cigarette in it follows along with it. "Mmm, don't remind me. There was the tape fiasco last year."

The man... Alton? Ashton? Alvin? Something like that, it had been hard to tell over the music, spins him again. He's nice enough-- a good partner, and has been happy enough to buy Vincent a couple of drinks over the course of the night. They won't go home together, because he seems half dead on his feet, and mostly here for a good time. The song fades to a close, and he dips Vincent, helping him back to his feet, and they both sit at the table.

Tessa's date, leans against her, and narrows her eyes conspiratorially. "So now that you're big on camera, what are the chances you'll get to meet Vivien Leigh?" And then she pauses for a moment, thinking. "Well I guess for you, you'd rather Robert Taylor."

"Well as they're Hollywood actors, the odds aren't in my favour."

Half an hour later, as they're all leaving, Alton(?) throws an arm over his shoulders. "If you ever want to see more of me, I'll be here most night." Vincent nods, and kisses his cheek, waving as he turns away to head back to his apartment. Maybe if he's careful... he can have both career and love.

He's flipping through the newspaper in the break room a week later, when he stops. 'Gay Bar Raided-- 15 Patrons Arrested.' He holds his breath as he reads, no names, but it's the same bar he'd been at just days ago. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. That could have been him.

It's not safe, he can't. He can't take that risk. All it would take is one bad night and there's his life gone. he closes the newspaper, making sure to fold it along the creases, partially to steady his own hands.

Disregard love for power, for fame. He'd been a fool to think he could ever be careful enough to have, to go at all. He straightens against the counter, and puts on a smile. Show time.

III. Circa 1921.

Their house is at the end of the street, and the gutter cuts across the front of the yard. It's the boundary Mama sets for him to play outside most days. He can go anywhere in the yard, or up the tree-- all of which she encourages, because it keeps him out of his room, tucked up with his little wind-up toys, and books. More like a child.

Right now, he's sitting under the shade of the tree, array of bits and pieces set out on the thin shelf afforded by the cement divider. Little twigs, leaves, long blades of grass. Anything to make boats. Two sit beside him already, with small flowers on both. Even if they can make it to the end, it won't matter if they sink-- the flowers are there as a test. If they get wet, the design fails.

He holds his tongue between his teeth in concentration, as he gently threads a piece of grass around a few twigs to tie it off into a makeshift raft. It's one of those, long thick blades that Jesse from school can make whistle, and refuses to teach anyone else to do, but right now its rigging, and it doesn't matter if he can make it whistle or not.

He looks up as a figure comes to stand by him, casting his project in an extra layer of shade. His father. He sits down beside Vincent, and smiles at him. He waves back, pushing up his glasses. "What are you working on?" His father asks. It's the most lucid that Vincent thinks he's ever seen him, he's talking, smiling, out of the house instead of staring at things that no one else can see.

He picks up the boats, and shows his father. "Leaf boats. I'm gonna race them to see which ones works best."

"...And the flowers?"

"People. If they get wet then the people would die and it's a bad boat."

His father blinks, and then laughs, ruffling his hair. "How can I help?"

When the sun is beginning to set, and all the boats have long since been dashed against the gutters and the rocks, petal-men lost to the rapids, his father teaches him to whistle with grass.

That night, his mother tucks him into bed, "Did you have a good day?"

He nods, shuffling further under the blankets, as she leans to press a kiss to his forehead. "I'm glad," She says and stands. "Sleep well,"

It's a good day-- the best day really. Mostly because it was the only day.

[mischiefandnightmares]

New follower! saunteredintohell

@saunteredintohell​

Fey was perched on a tree, resting after a long day of causing mischief and havoc. It was a cool night and the cold air made her pixie like wings twitch. The sprite let out a sight before looking up to the night sky, for some reason star gazing always seemed to calm her down. But her attention was drawn to something on the ground below.

[sinnerzforsaintz]

PSA/Rules/Basics

-Mutuals only

-I am selective with my interactions but I don't mind if you approach. I accept OCs (I have a ton of my own I love and adore) but again, I am going to be selective about my interactions. Unless we're mutuals, I will not be doing threads with you.

-I run a 18+ NSFW blog (Minors PLEASE respect my boundaries, I understand you might be comfortable but I am not)

-I do not write full on smut because I don't feel like it. Doesn't mean my muses aren't horny bastards and I will gladly talk it out with you if you message me but overall, I won't write it out. Fade to black is where it's at my dudes! (I don't mind if you want to go off and be wild about them fucking in my DMs cause I don't mind talkin it out but writing it is just not my bag.)

-Do not bring me your drama, hate, problem with another rper or message me unless we are mutuals. I don't even want to see a call out post because that's just not something I'm into. (People don't change if there's a damn witch hunt after them for some stupidly petty shit)

-If I do not follow you from my main saunteredintohell, you are welcome to send in anons and asks but I will not be doing threads with you/responding to you if you try to make it a thread

-I do not do MAs or interact with fan children of any kind.

-I don't do crossovers (Hellaverse only)

-I use homo/phobic language in my writing because I do rp as characters who are and I don't shy away from letting them be absolutely garbage. (Please keep in mind I am not my muse, I will tag things if asked but most threads I don't tag because I don't expect anyone to read them outside the people I am interacting with.)

-I am highly selective with Alastor and Angel Dust

-If my muse isn't involved in a verse you have going with another person, I expect to be informed about it before it is dumped on me. Everyone gets their own verse here I expect the same unless otherwise stated or requested or I allow my muses within that verse by commenting on the situation

-I do not write anything to do with suic*de and r*pe. I may have Valentino as a muse but he is supposed to be an NPC (he has a mind of his own) so his abuse is strictly for Vox (even then Vox don't really consider it abuse because he's just as trash)

Will be updated as I go!

Muse List

Arackniss--- Husk--- Vox--- Henroin--- St Peter--- Archangel Micheal--- Voxbot(a silly Vox shaped Fizzbot)

Valentino NPC for Vox(Strictly asks only/will show up in threads occasionally)

[hazbinbargainbin]

@saunteredintohell​ Astor kicks

Slowly, without so much as breaking eye contact, Alastor slowly lowers himself into a crouch. From there, into a sit, and that a lay. He brings his hands to his chest and tops the whole thing off by closing his eyes.

He’s dead, Jim  Astor. Are you proud of yourself?

[shadowofthehost]

//Gentle reminder that I am mutuals only. If I'm not following you from saunteredintohell I am not going to respond to reblogs