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hazbinshusk · 11 months ago

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This one is so interesting! A kiss out of spite for Husk? 👀✨

oh, love, it took me a few to figure out where I was going with this, but I love it lol. between my laptop being an asshole and life kind of sucking, I'm just so happy to finally have this finished :)

prompt #41: a kiss out of spite.

“Ooh! And we can set up a flower arranging class over there…” Charlie points towards the far end of the hotel lobby excitedly, and you hurriedly circle the same place on the floor plan on your clipboard and mark it with a flower.

You almost trip over your own feet as she suddenly changes direction, clasping her hands together excitedly. Alastor, walking beside you with his hands tucked demurely behind his back, notices your slip with an irritatingly condescending smirk. He takes Charlie’s rerouting in stride, watching her go with the same blandly indulgent expression as a father pretending to care about their toddler’s half-gibberish rambling.

“…And over there we can host a seminar on building healthy relationships!” the princess declares, clasping her hands together and bouncing happily on her heels. Ahead of you, Vaggie is working on hanging a banner that declare the Hazbin Hotel a ‘Home for Happy Hearts!’, the flap of her wings rustling through the plants Niffty had just finished watering below her. “What d’you think?”

You scrawl the words ‘healthy seminar’ on the floorplan before looking up to meet her expectant expression. Valentine’s Day is coming up, and Charlie had recently come up with the idea to host a weekend-long event to promote building healthy connections among Sinners.

Choosing your words carefully, you give her a small, encouraging smile. “It sounds great, Charlie, I just… I don’t know if flowers and a seminar is enough to compete with the Vees.”

Every year since Valentino had claimed the title of Overlord, he’d been throwing annual fuck-fests here in Pride – an easy cash grab for him and his partners – that were supposed to emulate the bacchanalias of the Lust Ring. Mostly, it was just one big, weekend-long orgy with questionable rules about consent and overpriced merchandise.

Charlie deflates slightly. “Really?”

You shrug a shoulder apologetically. The three of you make your way towards the bar, where Husk is polishing a glass. Upon seeing the change in your trajectory, he reaches for the bottle of rye he keeps for Alastor with a sigh.

“I just… Valentine’s Day has such a… specific vibe here in Hell. I don’t think the whole sexless group lessons on communicating is going to draw the crowds you think it will when there’s a straight up orgy happening a few blocks away.”

You take a seat at the bar, color rising in your cheeks as Husk's eyes flicker up to meet yours just as you mention the orgy. You clear your throat, missing the small smile that touches Husk's face. He turns away from the three of you when he catches him, replacing the rye on the shelf, lest Alastor notice his reaction.

Forcing yourself back to the conversation at hand, you continue, "Especially since we won't even have the draw of Hell's hottest porn star to bring people in on the day."

Angel was of course contractually obliged to help host the depravity for the Vees; he’d reluctantly left a few hours ago to go and shoot the promo pieces for the event.

“Oh.” Charlie pouts, and you immediately feel worse about voicing your concerns. Her brow furrows for a moment as she considers what you’ve said, before she breaks in to a grin. “Oh! I know! We need to film another advertisement for the hotel!”

Husk deflates slightly at the idea, setting a glass in front of you. You hadn't even noticed him making you a drink. When you smile at him by way of thanks, he shrugs a shoulder, that smile reappearing. This time, you return it.

"I don't know if that..."

"We can get some decorations up and everyone can dress up," Charlie continues, and Alastor is swirling his drink idly, looking annoyingly entertained by your inability to get your point across. "And maybe if we get some of our single residents and staff to appear in the ad..."

She gives you and Husk a pointed, hopeful look, and he holds up his hands immediately, ears falling back against his skull. "Leave me outta it, Princess. I ain't got any interest in bein' paraded around like some kinda show pony. 'sides, you might need to find someone a little younger if you wanna actually get people through the door."

"Awww," Charlie coos, and Husk rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

"This ain't self-pity, Princess." he continues. And he genuinely sounds as though he means it. Resigned, maybe, but not self-pitying. "'m bein' realistic."

"I'm afraid my old friend Husker is right, my dear," Alastor pipes up, rolling his cane between his fingers in a show of idleness. "As much as he may have mastered the art of pouring a half-decent cocktail, he hasn't the same... finesse when it comes to seduction."

Husk glowers, and you can't help yourself. "And how would you know?"

Alastor's smile twitches wider as his tone turns to one of faux-pity. "Oh, dear girl, I have known our bartender a long time. And even before he came into my employ, I think you'll find-"

"Al." Husk interjects sullenly. "I think they get the point."

"-that he didn't have too much luck in romance." The radio demon's grin takes on a wicked tilt. "Long-term, anyway. Hm, Husker?"

The bartender grunts noncommittedly, color staining his muzzle.

Charlie's still pouting sympathetically, and you swear it's making it worse for Husk. Hell, you kind of wish you could just get up and leave to spare him the audience, but somehow that feels worse - like you'd be judging him somehow. Sure, you don't know much about Husk's past, but as curious as you are, you're positive this isn't how the bartender wants his issues aired to any of you.

"I'm sure that's not true, Husk," Charlie says, and she makes move to reach out to touch his hand for a moment before reconsidering. "I'm... uh, I'm sure you could still-"

"Please don't." You have to stop yourself from smiling at Husk - he just sound so fucking done.

"Yes, Charlie..." Alastor continues smugly. He is really starting to piss you off. "We'd hate to embarrass our dear bartender any more, would we? If he's a little over the hill, it's all the-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake-" you roll your eyes, leaning over the bar and grabbing ahold of Husk's suspender. He manages a surprised flush and wide eyes before you crush your lips against his.

The kiss is abrupt and has a rough edge to it that makes your stomach swirl, but Husk relaxes into it after a moment, his paw coming up to cover the hand you have wrapped around his suspender. The other touches your cheek gently, claws sliding through the hair behind your ear. His tongue teases against your bottom lip for a moment before he remembers himself and pulls away. Still, you swear you hear the first low thrum of a purr rolling through his chest before you separate.

Both of you are blushing deeply and you snatch your hand away as you set yourself back on the stool. Charlie is staring at the two of you with hearts in her eyes and a slack jaw, and you swallow back the way your heart is in your throat to turn to Alastor.

"I don't know, Al. Seems like Husk still knows what he's doing to me." you shrug, desperately feigning detachment. You turn to Charlie. "I don't know if another ad is the way to go, but I'm sure we can think of something. Maybe you can get Alastor to talk about it on his broadcast. Maybe he could even use that famous voice of his to host events on the day."

Alastor's ever-present smile twitches, his eyes narrowing as Charlie gasps excitedly. Standing, you meet Husk's eye again. There's amusement in his gaze, and still-lingering shock. And something else that makes your heart dance against your ribcage. Forcing yourself to remain calm, you wink at him.

Husk smiles in return.

Oh, this was totally worth pissing off the radio demon.

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

#hazbin hotel #husk #hazbin husk x reader #husk x reader #husk fic #my fic #husk x you #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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liveontelevision · 1 year ago

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R and R | Lucifer X OC!Reader

Another! Tadaaa

If i'm being totally honest, i was Stoned out of my mind when i wrote this, so i can't guarantee it's top shelf, but here ya go.

TW: some mentions of self-harm, suicide, but mostly fluff and suggestive stuff

Enjoy ;)

♡♡♡

You stumbled upon the renovated hotel directly after arriving in hell. It was a dark and confusing night, but you hadn't had the easiest life anyway. Barely getting by day to day, with a history of depression and self-harm, sometimes your only solution to your problems was to keep walking forward. So you did just that, leading you to a fantastical hotel that seemed to be giving away free rooms.

You entered the lobby, covered in dirt, blood, and whatever else was on the streets of hell. You worked as a waitress, and on an especially rough day, your break time was spent taking your own life. And here you are, in a pink and white striped, vintage uniform dress. Along with a little apron, that still had written orders on it in your pocket.

Looking an absolute mess, Charlie immediately took you in and fixed you up before rambling about the redemption aspect.

It was a miracle that you stumbled upon the clean and comfortable rooms available. It wasn't anything that fancy, but after being on the streets until your end, this was heaven.

After appreciating a significant amount of pampering, a hot shower, comfortable clean clothes, and a cushy bed, you were introduced to the rest of the hotel residents. Everyone seemed lovely, some.. interesting.. personalities, but nothing you weren't too intimidated by. Except for Alastor. The tall, shadowy figure put you entirely on edge, and you hated to admit that you were actually afraid of him.

Moving on -

You've been a resident at the hotel for 6 months! They did say redemption would take a while, but at this point, it was becoming hard to believe.. Still, in reality, why would you leave? You created a chosen family that can't be compared to your living family in any aspect. Not to mention the slightest crush on the king of hell himself.

It was something you were ignoring for weeks, but his humor and caring nature was too hard to ignore. The fact is, you start noticing little things when you develop feelings. How his eyes sparkled when he looks at Charlie, and fiddled with his ring when he became anxious, and how his hair get's messier when he seems stressed. You assume that he doesnt really take care of himself when theres too much on his plate.. it almost made your heart ache just thinking about it.

You also notice how he unconsciously flinches at the slightest touch, even to Charlie. From the sounds of it, he hadn't been this active and social for years, so physical contact had to have been sparce.

It was just because he was working on things.. yeah, important things!

Of course, its your anniversary of arriving at the hotel, so you were welcomed into the lobby that night with banners, balloons, some sloppy cookies, the works; everyone was there to celebrate your progress. The night consisted of a heart-felt speech from charlie, some disturbing accessories gifted to you by niffty, and a lot of drinking. Lucifer was prone to getting lost in a conversation, especially with you. And even moreso after a few rounds of whiskey. Very late into the night, you finally noticed how everyone had gone to their rooms, leaving you and Lucifer in a passionate conversation about whatever important project he was currently working on.

You found yourself facing him entirely, your knees brushed against his side with every roll of your barstool. You were too intoxicated to notice his small reactions to it. Occasionally, it would cause him to stutter or make him lose his focus. You were rudely dissociating while he talked, noticing his hair was slightly messy. It must have been another long day.. A small piece of hair fell into his face, but he didn't do much about it, continously blowing it out of his eyesight and combing his fingers back through his hair. It was all you were able to focus on while he spoke, almost to an annoying extent. You let out a sigh and simply brush the hair out of his eyes during one of his stories. You leaned back and propped your elbow on the bar, waiting for him to continue on after he stopped talking for some reason. It finally clicked that you may have overstepped his boundaries. He was blinking his widened eyes, just a slight blush across his cheeks. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands.

"Oh! Oh- Lucifer i'm sorry i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything I just-" you rambled an apology out before he snaps out of his fazed state. He quickly calms you down;

" Nope! No-ho-hope you are great. Fine! You're fine, it's fine.." his drunken babbles dug his grave. He groaned and laid his heads in his hands for a moment.

"Just.. i've been alone for so long, you know? I always get a little nervous when people do that.. type of thing..." He leaned up, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

For some reason, your only thought process was to try to calm his nerves any way possible.

" S-sooo.. do you want, like, a massage or something?" That bold comment was never something you'd say to royalty, even to ones you've become close with. Lucifer's eyes grew even wider as he stuttered nonsense.

You slap your forehead, "Fuck! Lucifer, i'm drunk i swear.. i'm sorry. If you manage to remember this night after blacking out, do me a favor and forget this whole thing, okay?" You rambled.

".. Yes."

It took you a moment to process what you just heard. You looked over to him, his shoulders were tensed as his hands clenched fists onto his thighs. He was looking away, biting the inside of his mouth, possibly to stop him from saying anything else. You blinked, a small smile spread across your face, just seeing this powerful demon acting all embarrassed.

"Okay. Sure, yeah! I mean.. if you're comfortable, i.. i don't mind doing it." You responded. There was no reason to debate this, playing it off as a bold response. Lucifer gulped, his face only getting hotter with every word.

He takes a few deep breaths," Fuck it.. Listen, I trust you." He smiled at you, the kind of smile that made your heart melt. You try to switch the topic as the two of you moved up to his room, simply to avoid the dreaded awkward silence. You got into another friendly conversation about something unimportant, that will have been forgetten in a matter of hours.

You've been in his workshop once or twice. It seemed like he kept the doors locked often, probably nervous about anyone seeing the mess that was inside. It wasn't too bad this night. He did have to swipe a few rubber ducks off the couch, so there was a place to sit, though. Lucifer plopped on the couch, his back stretched heavily as his head leaned over the back of the head rest. He rubbed his shoulder in this relaxed position, seemingly stressed just by being in a place he associated with work. That didn't stop you from taking a mental photo of him in this state. He wore a white shirt, decorated with puffed sleeves that were rolled to his elbows, and a small ruffle coming from the neck line. He crossed his legs in his regular heeled boots and began to explain some work he was struggling with. He brushed his hair back into place again, looking to you as he did and noticing you were still standing. He cocked his head before silently slapping the cushion next to him.

" So.. how we gonna do this?" He tries to play off the suddenly intimate moment with a jokingly flirty voice.

"Ah! Right, well.. you could - face this way, and i'll just -" you quickly sat with your legs underneath you and take a hold of his shoulders, moving his body to have his back face you.

"Ookay. So.. um, tell me if this is.. uncomfortable, okay?" You decided to set that boundary for him, and he nodded in response. He looked down slightly, revealing his neck to you, already relaxing his shoulders.

Your hands hesitated for a moment just reaching out to him. Finally making contact, you noticed a familiar little flinch, making you pull away immediately.

"Sorry! Sorry, go ahead.. uh- please.." he muttered. You nod and try again, your hands touching his shoulders much slower than before. He slouches his back towards you, letting out a satisfying sigh just a few moments later.

You moved your massaging hands from his shoulders to his shoulder blades, then to his middle back, then slightly lower. As you focused on specific areas that simply felt harder to dig into, you occasionally ran your fingers up and down his spine. He shuddered every time, making you do it just for the reaction at certain points.

You brushed another spot near his side, that made him flinch. It took both of you by surprise, being simply one of those spots on your body that make you jump. He let out a sudden hic, turning his head back to you. Your eye contact felt long overdue. The couch wasn't very large, his actions left him just a few inches away from your face. You hold your breath, worried that he'd hear how fast your heart was beating. You take the sudden interruption as a chance to make a suggestion.

"Can I.. can i do your- uhm..." You pointed to his chest, implying what you were too nervous to say. He almost stopped to think for a moment before shifting his position to face you directly. You let out your breath and looked at the nervous demon in front of you. His face was rosey pink, his eyes half lidded. You take out another quick breath before reaching back up to his shoulders. You dug into his shoulder and collarbone area, nervous to go any lower. Your thumbs traced the divots of his collarbone as your fingers reached up across his neck momentarily. He melted into every movement, his body moving with the direction of your hands, his eyes finally resting shut.

You got as lost in it as he did, the massage suddenly turning into your hands lightly tracing over his features. You could tell he only needed the slightest comforting touch to relax. Your fingers traced down the center of his chest, then made circular motions over his abdomen, then back up, tracing across his arms and squeezing his palms lightly. He flexed his wrists as if he was about to hold your hand in his. You were embarrassed to admit how excited that madd you for a moment. While running your hands near his sides, you accidentally reach into his partially untucked blouse. You both gasp and pull away, giving each other the same wide-eyed face. Lucifer was first to break eye contact. He looked at your hands for a moment before letting out a brave breath and unbuttoning his shirt from the front. You cover your eyes and stammered out.

"Woah-woah! It was an accident you don't have to do this if you-"

"Oh! Shit! Ah-hah.. i'd.. i mean, i wouldnt mind... if .. you.. wouldn't?" He bashfully replied, covering his previously unbottoned chest.

"No, i don't mind.." Your responses were becoming more confident, uncovering your face. You almost smile at him but become too flustered watching him remove his shirt. He let his top sit at his waist, simply pulling the shirt off his shoulders. His skin was like porcelain, smooth and white, and surprisingly cold to the touch. Your hands pressed on his chest, attempting to heat him up with your warm hands. Either you pushed too hard, or he expected something different, but Lucifer follows your hands and lets you essientally push him back to lay on his forearms. You can't handle it. He looked so amazing in this position. You both mentally decided that it was best to just not question this increasingly intimidate moment.

You resume running your hands across his chest, noticing his breath changing. After just a couple minutes, he was putty in your hands. His forearms were shaking and gripping the edge of the couch, ready to give out. Then he finally gave in, making him drop his back to the cushion of the couch. You followed his movements as the position slowly shifted, and your knee moved in between his legs, trying to keep up with his slouching torso. He's breathing heavily from his lips, his face a tomato red, while he can barely keep his eyes open. You enjoyed his reaction too much to ruin this moment, but god, you were desperate to be closer to him. You swirled your palms down his torso and abdomen, tracing his v lines until you lightly grazed the hem of his pants.

You stop yourself, pulling your hands away and keeping them close to you, hoping to hide your heaving chest until you calmed down. It takes him a minute to tune back in, looking up at you with concern and slight disappointment. His eyes darted around for a moment before sitting up and breaking the silence.

"You.. uh.. you want to stop? You've done more than enough, trust me, Way more than.. I.. erm.. fuck it. If you're not up to it, it's okay.. but-" he stopped his mumbling, to slowly pull out his 3 sets of wings. To comfortably adjust their size, he had to essentially curl them in your direction. Being as large as they were, they were nearly encasing the two of you together. You shrink back, curiousity hitting you before he could properly ask. You ran your hand across his feathers, simply intrigued by their color and softness. He let out a soft yelp, making you pull back again. Again, you two give eachother a wide eyed stare, not sure how to follow up that kind of reaction. At this point, you finally let out a snort and started to laugh. It was quick to lighten the mood, as he joined you.

"Keep going." He smiled at you, a beautiful sparkle in his red eyes, as he reached out to take one of your hands. He took that hand and gave its palm a small kiss.

"Ooh~ i'm honored, your highness." You teased. He responded with wiggling his eyebrows and sending a joking smirk in your direction, hoping that would conseal his excitement to your words.

It didn't, really.

You gently take your hand from his, and continue running your fingers across his feathers. They flinch at any contact but still folded into your hand with a longing to be held. His flirtatious demeanor immediately folded, letting out another sigh. He became a bit vocal this time, letting out low hums every now and then. And sometimes, he would attempt to hold his eyes open just to look at you. He wasn't sure if you could tell, being too concentrated in your work, but he didn't care. He loved the view. His breath became heavier again, but with the close proximity and his wings keeping you two close, the area became very heated.

You send a puff of air close to his feathers, letting out a small chuckle at his sudden shock. The laughter between the two of you slowly dissolving into sweet smiles. The light was slightly dampened by the coverage of his wings, yet you were still able to see his shifting eyes. He leans towards you, breathing slowly. In response, you place your hands back on his chest, causing him to sit back up a bit. He almost looked upset for a moment, being stopped from moving towards you. You gather the courage before moving in closer, your legs nearly overlapping each other at this point. You lean in just a few inches away and shut your eyes, allowing him to finally make the decision to meet your lips together.

The teasingly long tension from this intimacy seemingly burst. Lucifer's wings pull back, tucking back behind him. He breathes heavily into your lips, his head swaying in the direction of yours, still melting into your touch. To keep him from completely collapsing, you keep your hands firmly on his chest. His arms tenderly grab yours, just needing something, anything, to anchor himself. You pull away after a while, allowing him to catch his breath.

Even in this winded, flustered state, you could both tell this is something he's needed for a long time. It was a long night, following every desire that he was too embarrassed to ask for and loving every moment of it. It felt so good to give this sweetheart something he didn't realize he needed; something he deserves. You end up leaning your back on the couch arm, his back flush to your chest. Your fingers were running through his hair slowly, providing a very satisfying scalp massage. The warmth coming from you body, and him unknowingly using your chest as a pillow was more than enough to lull him to sleep. You couldn't remember if he was awake at the time, but you continued to plant a small kiss on the top of his head before falling asleep right underneath him.

---

You sit up quickly from your sleep, immediately wincing at the light coming from the workshops' windows. After taking a moment to get used to your throbbing head, you finally took in your surroundings and then the flood of memories of the night before hit. Your eyes went wide, and you groaned into your hands. Despite this reaction, you were so glad that you remembered last night. You finally notice a blanket over you and a large duck plush underneath your head, which made you smile until realizing Lucifer was gone. Your chest dropped, immediately thinking of what you could have done to make him leave you here, alone.

"Feeling like shit, my love? 'Cause i sure am!" His voice comes from the door, in an entirely joking tone. You quickly turn to see him, letting out a sigh of relief. The king of hell made you fucking pancakes. He wear a little apron protecting the same shirt he wore the night before, and placed your plate at a nearby table. You hobble off the couch, groaning from the stiffness of your body. Lucifer was quick to pull out your chair, and push it back in once you were seated, the table set with a variety of fruits, the tall stack of pancakes, a small glass of water, and a large mug of coffee. Clearly, that was what you went for first. The drink shot you awake, noticing the freshness of the ingredients and its preporation. You take in a large fork-ful of hotcakes and let out a stereotypical hum.

"You're amazing, Lucifer." You mumble out of your pancake-filled cheeks. He places his hand on yours, simply smiling at you from the side of the table.

"Thank you, darling. I really needed that.. like Really needed that." He huffs out, becoming embarrassed again. He didnt even stutter holding on to your hand. You finish off your food, having some light conversation that came easy to the two of you after last night.

Alastor's broadcast chimed through a nearby radio, "Hellish morning, residents! ~ I'm sure you all had a restful sleep after your nightly activities! Your planned activities for today include ... "

Alastors voice quietly fills the room, announcing some of the exercises Charlie had planned for today. His phrasing made you nervous, as if he knew what you were up to. It also gave you an uncomfortable flashback to a high school P.A. system.

" I should get going then, right? Busy... trying to be redeemed.. and stuff. You know." You slide out of your chair, letting out a nervous chuckle, not seeing his strange reaction to you mentioning redemption. As if he were scared to lose you to heaven. Before you have a chance to look back at him, Lucifer is wrapped around your waist. He shifts to stand into the embrace, as close as he could be. He leaves a hand on the small of you back, and the other on the back of your neck, his clawed fingers entangled in your hair. It takes you a minute to hold him back, just from the shock, but you held him tight, closing your eyes and nuzzling your nose into his hair. That's when you notice how lovely he smelled.. probably an apple scented shampoo. -And how he never flinched to your touch after that night.

♡♡♡

I left this one pretty suggestive, because i haven't really written smut before. I might rewrite this if anyone's interested in it going that route tho!

#hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin

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baldval · 1 year ago

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More Husk please! I loved the one you did. My heart was like 😚❤️‍🔥

It's common knowledge that some cats don't like water. Mine actually does though, haha 😆

So maybe somehow Husk got wet and is all grumpy because of it. (Maybe Niffty set something on fire and caused the sprinklers to go off, idk) so reader helps dry him off and is being all soft and sweet and he can't keep his feelings to himself anymore?

Ughhh I love this purrfect man so much ♡

DANG!₊˚⊹♡

characters: husk x gn!reader

wc: 861

warnings: cursing, making out

a/n: idk if i like this but here it is

"For fuck's sake." Husk was mad. Very mad.

You had decided to bake something for the group, some simple chocolate chip cookies. You were following a recipe you had found online, and everything was going great, until you confused Farenheit with Celsius. That lead to, not only the cookies being burnt, but the smoke also activated the sprinkles in the kitchen.

Coincidentally, Husk had just entered the kitchen to look for a snack.

So now Husk is wet, and he hates being wet.

You felt terribly sorry, apologising a million times as Husk kept telling you it was okay, but you could tell he was angry, even if he tried to hide it to not hurt your feelings.

So you offered to help him dry up, taking him to the bathroom and caressing his body with a towel. However, his fur seemed to be hyper-absorbant since that didn't really seem to help and Husk kept being annoyed at his current state.

He closed his eyes and sighed, your fingers lifted his chin up so you could start using the towel to dry up his face. He groaned.

"Sorry" you mumbled "I'm almost done."

His eyelids opened slowly, finding you close to him, his dark eyes fixed on yours, you noticed he started studying your face, growing ashamed of the fact you were ashamed.

"Really though, it's okay" You looked away from him as he spoke. "I really don't mind."

"Except you do." You took a step back, away from him, unaware of the fact Husk wanted you to be closer not further. "I can feel it."

"I mean- yes I was a bit annoyed..." you turned your gaze towards the floor, when he realised this, he held your chin, forcing you to look at him. "but, it's okay. It will be a funny story." You smiled at him and he chuckled. "How do you even confuse Farenheit with Celsius?" You laughed. "I really don't know. I guess I never bake." "I'll have to teach you then."

"Oh, I would love that."

A silence filled the room, yet not uncomfortable. The towel was now laying on a table while you both stared at eachother, smiling.

Husk's eyes moved towards your lips, it seemed as if he was almost analysing them.

You noticed this. "Do you like my lips or why are you staring?" You teased, he immediately stopped staring and you could see how his cheeks where gradually getting redder. "I'm joking, don't worry." "Yes." You looked at him confused. "I do like them." It was your turn to blush as he got up and closer to you, a finger of his over your lip. "They're quite pretty." Your body went stiff, realising what was going on: dim lighting, silence, being the closest to one another you had ever been.

Oh, and also, Husk had just confessed he liked your lips, whatever that meant.

Dark eyes wandered over your mouth, following his thumb as it now slid to the other side. Hesitantly, he moved even closer until his lips hovered over yours. The anticipation that filled the room made sure to cut off both your breathing and his. But then, Husk closed the distance between your mouths, hidden feelings bursting out into the open. Husk’s kiss was soft, and you made sure to reciprocate slowly, easing into the unknown sensation of kissing him.

When the kiss stopped he remained still. Your shaky hands slid up his torso, fingertips grasping his fur to keep him in place for as long as the sweet burning sensation sat on your guts. You weren't sure of what came over yourself, maybe it was the curiosity of having him as more than a friend. Maybe it was the thoughts that had constantly whispered at the back of your head how attractive you thought he was, the thoughts you had made sure to ignore and so you never acted on them. Maybe it was the thrill of crumbling his aloof and distant demeanor in between your hands.

Maybe it had been all of those things together, but you slightly and eagerly nudged your nose against his. And so he kissed you again, with a deep sigh of surrender and his hands roaming up your thighs. The sounds of kissing filled the kitchen, your tongue sliding across his tongue, his hungry mouth now fighting against your, your hands moving towards his neck. His fingers squeezed your skin, a breathy exhale left your throat almost becoming a soft whine.

“What…” the cat-like bartender tried to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed like his brain for once wasn’t cooperating.

“I…” you cleared your throat, blinking a couple of times “I don’t know.”

He swallowed, trying to find words once again.

“Listen, I…”

“It’s okay” nervously you tightened your grip on the back of his neck, now anxious of letting him go “we don’t have to talk about this today or tomorrow. We can just… forget it happened.”

“We can just let it be… for tonight.”

“Yeah” you pulled him close again, his body relaxed as he followed your movement and searched for your lips once more.

“Yeah, just for tonight…”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #husk x reader #husk hazbin hotel headcanon #cursed cat alastor #hazbin hotel husk #husk #husk x you #husk headcanons

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crackrodent · 10 months ago

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Niffty's Rampage

Husk sat at the bar reading the morning paper while Niffty repeatedly stabbed him in the leg. He felt the plastic tip press against his furry skin as the rest of the knife retracted back into the handle. Despite the smooth point on top it still hurts to have your leg stabbed ten times a second for an hour straight. He tuned out the tiny chaos gremlin while plotting how to kill the jackass who gave her the knife. He could never though. Quiet plotting. Therapeutic purposes only. Then it stopped. A small hand could still be felt on his calf so he looked down.

“Hi Husker,” Niffty said skittering away to find her next victim.

Vaggie was still sleeping, although not as peacefully since Charlie climbed out of bed an hour ago. She tossed herself onto her stomach in hopes of getting another fifteen minutes tops. Her head now snuggled into Charlie’s pillow. She was at peace.

Niffty slowly crept up on her prey until she pounced onto Vaggie’s back and started stabbing her right between the currently concealed wings.

The soldier reacted on instinct and flung the tiny sinner across the room while reaching for her angelic spear. The blade was at Niffty’s neck before Vaggie even had time to identify the intruder. Niffty looked up at the Exorcist with tears in her eye. The two one-eyed women stared at each other for a moment until Niffty’s small frame started to shake and Vaggie lowered the weapon.

“Niffty, don’t be an asshole and wake people up like that. You could have been a whole mess if I didn’t catch myself.” Vaggie walked away to the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

A softly crying Niffty walked into the hall and started walking back to the bar to get Husker. She couldn’t even see Baxter until they collided.

“Niffty, what's wrong?” Baxter took her hand and helped her up.

“Vaggie.”

Baxter thought for a moment, carefully choosing his words, “What happened right before Vaggie made you cry?” Baxter pulled her into a hug.

With the new vantage point, despite her really liking the feel of her head on his shoulder, she knew what she had to do. She nuzzled her head into his neck before moving her lips up to his ear and borderline seductively whispering, “This,” and promptly stabbing him between the shoulder blades.

Baxter let out a sigh and gave her one more tight squeeze before releasing the hug.

“Niffty when you stab people they don’t usually like it.”

Niffty looked up at Baxter with an almost curious expression, “But you said you liked whe-” Baxter cut her off to speak to the demon behind her.

“Good morning mister radio demon! I was just leaving!” He said before turning and running away.

Niffty looked at Alastor for a moment before deciding kneecaps would be the best target. Unfortunately, Al’s shadow warned him of the oncoming attack. A tentacle swooped her up and held her a fair distance from him but at eye level.

“Niffty, no.” Was all he said before putting her back down. She was still mostly upset so took off back to her Husker.

Husk stood cleaning the whiskey classes, Niffty standing on the bar stabbing him in the head. It wasn’t therapeutic anymore. He was gonna fucking kill him. He could imagine grabbing a real knife and just going ham.

“Niffty, I am going to set a two-minute timer and you are going to not stab me again until it goes off.” Niffty sat down on the counter and picked up Husk’s half-full bottle of booze and proceeded to dump it down the sink while looking him straight in the face.

“Niff!” Husk cried watching his drink go down the drain. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?!” He regretted it immediately when Niffty dropped her knife and sat down on the counter. “Niff?”

“I miss him,” Niffty explained. “When is he coming back home?”

“Who Niffty?” Husk asked right before the answer became obvious.

“Hey Whiskers, make it strong will ya?” Angel said before the tiny menace jumped on him and started stabbing him with the plastic knife over and over.

Husk watched as Angel laughed and rolled around. Egging Niffty on with fake overdramatic screams whenever he could catch a breath. Using one arm at a time to pretend to try and free himself allowing Niffty plenty of time to target that arm before switching to the next arm.

Maybe he didn’t want to kill him. Maybe he just needs to take the knife with him to work from now on. Whether or not Niffty is still attached to it when he does, is not his problem. Might be Valentino’s though.

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pannman · 4 months ago

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ACE ALASTOR WEEK DAY 1 MULTIVERSE MONDAY

Alastor x Peridot Platonic

Bare in mind this my first crossover fic I've ever done

Cw: Steven Universe characters in the not so pg environment of hazbin hotel, Angel Dust being suggestive and inappropriate as always, Alastor being a jerk

It had been one week. One week since Peridot's invention "the crossover device" has sent them to hell. Her, Steven and Amethyst. Now Peridot at first was filled with absolute glee that her invention worked but once she discovered she could not get them back the only thing she cared about was going home to Lapis and the barn and her plants. And Hell was definitely not the pg earth she was used to

They ran into trouble every which way. Until they discovered a flyer for the Hazbin Hotel. Steven so cleverly suggested that these people might be able to help. So the three of them made their way to visit the princess of hell. She was nice. Odd for a demon. But Steven really seemed to like her. Amethyst became fast friends with Husk and Angel Dust. Peridot didn't care for either of them. One was a drunk and one was a deviant. But no one could be worse than that red haired clod with antlers known as Alastor.

Peridot absolutely despised the way he got within her personal bubble almost immediately. She informed him of the discomfort it caused. And ever since then he went out of his way to push her boundaries... and her buttons. He frequently made jokes about her height. "My my I never thought I'd meet someone even shorter than Niffty" he teased. Niffty was his own personal pearl. Doing all the chores and doing it maniacal pride. As unhinged as she was, she wasn't half bad. Alastor was significantly worse. Alastor even ended up picking Peridot up like a toddler when she couldn't reach something. That infuriated her. He seemed to get some sort of sick amusement in her anger.

One week had went by and she was still no closer to getting them home and she was still dealing with that infernal demonic clod. Although she frequently took breaks to engage in the hotel's activities. At first she didn't want to but Steven convinced her to give them a try. Now she looked foward to it despite not being too fond of the other residents

Today was different though. Charlie and Steven had conspired together. It was a match made in... well, hell. They decided that today's activities would be a treasure hunt around the hotel and everyone would have a partner. Peridot hoped and prayed it was Amethyst or Steven. But she knew she wasn't so lucky. This was a set up from the very start

They paired her up with Alastor. Forced to work with her most despised enemy in hell. She only went through with it because Steven and Charlie's puppy dog eyes combined were impossible to resist. So there she was wondering about the hotel working with that smartly dressed dapper deer clod

"Alright! The sooner we beat this treasure hunt, the sooner we can go our separate ways." Peridot said. Alastor tilted his head at an unnatural angle still smiling unsettlingly. "Why? You don't like me? You don't enjoy my presence?" He spoke in a taunting tone that made it clear he knew the answer but Peridot still preferred be blunt about it. "Not particularly. No."

Alastor was not the least bit offended. "Well, that's too bad. I quite enjoy yours. Your little angry outbursts are quite adorable. Like a little Itty bitty chihuahua." He teased. "I AM NOT A CHIHUAHUA!!!" Peridot stomped her foot in fury. Alastor simply laughed.

Peridot growled up at him. "You will not laugh at me you clod!" He only laughed harder. Peridot grinded her teeth in anger. Suddenly they heard Angel's voice behind. "Why don't you two get a room huh? You can cut the sexual tension with a knife" Peridot then turned her unbridled anger at the spider. "WE ARE NOT A COUPLE!!! YOU MUST BE BLIND BECAUSE ANYONE CAN SEE THAT I CANNOT STAND THIS ANNOYING JERK AND HE IS SIMPLY A BIG BULLY WHO PICKS ON THOSE HE FINDS INFERIOR!!!" She screamed in almost a whole rant

Angel only pressed more. "Only people absolutely obsessed with each other would let each other live rent free in their heads for this long" he pointed. Peridot didn't understand that all she was doing was egging him on. "THE ONLY REASON HE LIVES RENT FREE IS BECAUSE HE NEVER PAYS HIS RENT AND AND I CANT GET HIM TO LEAVE!!!" She stomped her foot in protest but suddenly Alastor motioned for her to stop. "Leave this to me" Peridot looked up to see radio dials in his eyes as his antlers grew larger. She had never seen anything like it

"Perhaps I should remind you of who you are taunting. Because I assure its been a while since I got to let off some steam" his voice became more staticky at the end. He grew even taller and even more horrific. Angel's smug grin faded and he quickly submitted. "Whoa! I-I was just kidding!" He said. Alastor looked him dead in the eyes. "I suggest you run off before I change my mind" and with that Angel went to go find his partner and left them alone

Peridot suddenly forgot she hated him. "That was amazing! You really showed him what for!!!" Alastor smiled and dusted off his shoulder like it was nothing. "It's no big deal. Sometimes it takes a little something to put sinners back in their place. Besides he knows I'm not fond of him talking that way" Alastor replied. "Yeah he's a bit much. I don't know why Amethyst likes him so much. I mean I'm way better than him" said Peridot. "Oh! Do you fancy Amethyst?" Alastor asked

"What!?! No! Amethyst is just my friend. I dont... I don't think I've ever fancied anybody. I don't really think I'm capable of feeling that way" she admitted. Alastors sinister grin suddenly softened a bit. "I thought I was the only one...." Peridot crossed her arms in defense. "Your-you're just making fun of me again... right?" She hadn't really seen much evidence to trust Alastor in the past. But it sounded like he meant it.

"No, I'm fully serious. I've often felt revolted by the thought of carnal desires and lewd activities. Even the thought of holding hands with someone makes me feel great disdain. I never wanted anything like that despite everyone around me wanting it desperately" Peridot never thought someone could describe what she felt so perfectly. He continued "it makes me feel as if-" she finished his sentence. "Something is wrong with me..." They stared at each other for a long time.

Peridot finally decided she didn't hate Alastor. "I'm sorry for calling you an annoying jerk" she said. Alastor responded with a wave of his hand. "No, no. You were right I was going out of my way to harass you. But it was only because I like you in my own way. I find you funny and entertaining. I quite enjoy your personality and antics. But I am the one who owes you an apology. Though do not tell Charlie I ever apologized for anything." He said.

Peridot smiled up at her new friend. "Your secrets safe with me" Alastor gave her a sincere smile in return. "Now if you're ready I think I may have figured out this riddle" Peridot jumped for joy. "You did?!?" Alastor chuckled "yes, in fact I figured it out hours ago" Peridot simply laughed. "Oh Alastor! You card!"

Now that they were on good terms they won the treasure hunt in record time, they won a prize and they had a newfound friendship to go with it. And even though Peridot will still do anything to get them home again maybe... just maybe while they're stuck here it wouldn't be so bad after all. She definitely was much more comfortable now that she had a friend too

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thedeerman · 1 year ago

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RadioApple Fic:

Do You Want To Know?

Ch4: Notice

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

TW for descriptions of PTSD symptoms.

Niffty wasn’t someone that paid a whole lot of attention to the dynamics between the individual members of the hotel. She scurried around sweeping floors and stabbing bugs most of the day, but always seemed to notice when something seemed amiss with Alastor. How could she not, with how long they've been bound together? She can’t pretend to know quite how his mind works, but when there’s a shift in his moods, it isn’t missed by the little angel killer.

And between Niffty’s keen eye and Shadow’s worried glances, she knew something was wrong. It wasn’t often that the two interacted directly, but they had their own way of communication, a lot like the way an old couple does. Looks, glares, shrugs. Glances when no one else is looking. Not even Alastor seemed to know of the odd relationship Niffty and Shadow shared.

And so it shouldn’t be surprising that Niffty started spending a little more time bug hunting in the general vicinity of the tall, red demon. And maybe doing a little bit more eavesdropping than usual. After all, she might be the only soul in the hotel that could go unnoticed by the radio demon. And what she started noticing was that Alastor and the bad boy king were fighting less and looking at each other more. It started a week or two after the new hotel was put together, and slowly, ever so slowly, it started looking like something else was starting to form. Not hatred, not quite a rivalry even. Niffty couldn’t place it. The little maid shrugged and went back the task at hand: stabbing little bugs and running about the building.

The morning started out like every other recent one for Lucifer. Open eyes, remember where he is, think of his daughter, think of Alastor. That last part was actually getting ridiculous, thank you very much. Coffee time, he thinks to himself as he rolls out of bed. And then, unexpectedly, I miss sharing my bed with someone. He shakes his head. His loneliness really can’t rear its ugly head this early in the day. As he stretches and yawns, he struggles to remember if he was scheduled to be doing something today. Charlie will let me know, he thinks. Snapping his fingers, he changes from his comfy apple patterned pajamas into his usual outfit and glances at himself in the mirror. He decides that maybe today he’ll shake it up a bit, but can’t quite decide on how. He almost gives up, but then has an idea. With a wave of his hand, his plain black bowtie transforms into one that's a deep blood red with black accents. He looks at himself in the mirror again and acknowledges that in all likeliness, no one will notice the change. But he smiles, thinking that it was nice just to change something for himself for once, not to look a certain way for someone else.

As Lucifer gets ready to leave his room, he remembers the envelope on his desk. He looks at it for a moment and thoughts of its recipient flood his mind. He rolls his eyes at himself and stuffs the letter in his pocket. Lifting his hand to open a portal downstairs, he paused. Maybe… I should walk. He thinks. Maybe I’ll run into… His thoughts immediately screech to a halt as there’s a knock on his door. He panics for a moment, wondering if his rogue thoughts really could summon the bastard. But then he hears “Dad! Are you up?” and relaxes. “One second honey!” he responds, taking one last look in the mirror before heading to the door.

Charlie’s surprise visit only took a moment, as she quickly explained that something important had come up and the morning meeting was canceled. Before Lucifer could respond to this, Charlie held out an envelope and piece of paper. “It’s your letter for the day, and the prompt for the next one. I already talked to the person who had your name, so I figured I could deliver it before I’m off! Oh! And do you have yours? I can make sure it gets to you know who on my way out!” Charlie’s smile always put Lucifer at ease, even with the mention of the demon that was always clouding his thoughts. He strode over to his desk to grab the letter he wrote and happily handed her his envelope for the day. “Oh! One last thing before I go- Please don’t forget to check the chore board for the day!” Ah yes, the chore board. Whenever Charlie was going to be out of the hotel for the day, she made sure to fill out a whiteboard with everyone’s tasks. He nodded, still smiling. “Of course. Anything for you, duckling.” With that, Charlie smiled and turned to go off and do whatever else it was she needed to get done before leaving.

Lucifer’s curiosity got the best of him and before he could even get back to his desk, he was tearing open the letter. Dropping the envelope on the floor next to the first one, he sat and read the letter.

“Name one thing that you’re curious about in regards to your person.”

One thing I am curious about is your absence throughout the day. Aside from scheduled meetings and chores, you almost always seem to be missing.

Lucifer’s face drops a bit. Could it be Husk? No, he didn’t seem like the type to make it so obvious, but then again… The fallen angel sat at his desk pondering for several minutes and thought about his recent interactions with the bartender. Remembering his drink. Listening to his woes. Those golden eyes drilling into his soul… Lucifer shook his head. I suppose it doesn’t really matter much either way. Then he looked at the paper for his next letter. His next letter to… Alastor… He’d spent the past couple of weeks doing everything in his power to avoid the radio demon, both physically and mentally. Thinking about him always led to unpleasant thoughts and feelings, so he would just shove it down and out of his mind whenever possible. But when he was forced to acknowledge the guy, there was just no denying his magnetic energy.

He looked at the paper in front of him. The new prompt reads “Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.” The devil groans. There are tons of things about Alastor that interest him. Everything from how he talks to how he slinks through the shadows to his talent on the piano that he’s only very briefly experienced but would honestly like to again and- UGH. Come on, Lucifer. This isn’t that hard. After a few more moments of being lost in his endless thoughts, he decides that this can wait until later. He remembered Charlie’s instruction to check the white board downstairs and opened up his portal, this time deciding for sure against walking, and stepped into the lobby.

Alastor’s night was long and restless. Images of his battle with Adam flashed in his mind one after another, and sitting in the dark and quiet of his room made it so much worse. There were no external stimuli to focus on to keep himself grounded. Instead, despite his best attempts, every time he closed his eyes, he saw Adam’s masked face again. The carelessness of his fighting style. That guitar/ax monstrosity. The blinding light that broke his staff, rendering him defenseless. The swing of the holy weapon that tore through his very being, sending him flying against a wall. Those terrible bright golden wings looming over his damaged body as he melted away into the shadows in his last effort to survive. That laugh. The buffoon’s last words before nearly taking Alastor out of existence may have just been a shitty remark, but for a terrifying moment, radio really was almost dead.

In the early morning hours, the restless demon decided sleep wasn’t worth the effort anymore and got out of bed. His never-failing smile was feeling a bit more strained than it should. He picked up his microphone staff, clutching it in his hands, again remembering the sensation of light tearing through the middle of it. The radio demon closed his eyes for a moment before putting a happy demon face on and snapping his fingers to change into his usual outfit. With that he melted into shadow and made his way down to the kitchen, where a certain mug desperately needed to be filled with hot, bitter, beautiful caffeine.

Before he can get there, however, he hears movement coming from the meeting room. He peers past the doorway to see that Charlie is scribbling names and chores on a board in a hurry. Alastor raised an eyebrow as he considered whether or not he should disturb the girl in the middle of her task, but then remembered his reason for heading to the kitchen to begin with. He continued down the hallway, this time walking instead of traveling through the shadows. After last night, he needed something to wake him up.

And something certainly did. It wasn’t the coffee, or the flurry of demons coming and going as they got breakfast or prepared for their day. It wasn’t the princess, first asking for his envelope from the day prior- to which he reached into a small portal to grab it from his desk- or even the second time she spoke to him a while later when she was on her way out and handed him the newly acquired envelope from his anonymous writer. At the time, he placed the envelope, and new prompt paper, into his coat pocket to bother with later on. But no, it was none of these small events that woke him up. It was an even smaller one. It was when he decided to check his assigned duty for the day. His eyes grew wide and his smile grew tense as he read the board two, three, four, five times just to make sure that he understood what he was seeing.

Unfortunately, his sleepless eyes were not deceiving him. The task itself wasn’t awful- Clearing out a room that had been being used as storage for various things and then redesigning the room in a new layout. The details were left in a folder pinned to the board with a magnet. Simple. Easy. A ONE person job. But no, of course dear Charlotte wouldn’t want any of them taking on too big of a project on their own… Alastor sighed. He may as well accept that the outlook of his day was not great. He took the folder containing the plans for the new room and his third mug of coffee to the lobby, where he waited for his majesty to arrive.

It wasn’t terribly long before the king made his appearance, opening a hole in the fabric of Hell and stepping through it into the hotel lobby. The radio demon watched, silently, as the king started towards the meeting room and the chore board. When he came back moments later, the king’s eyes scanned the lounge area until they landed on the radio demon. Waiting for him. Alastor noticed that the king’s demeanor seemed flustered all of a sudden, and tilted his head to a degree that wouldn’t have been possible were he alive. Lucifer sighed and slumped his shoulders (in acceptance?), as he started walking towards Alastor perched on his favorite chair.

Time to put on a show, the demon thinks to himself. His smile grew and his eyes widened as he made eye contact with the short king himself. Before he could stand, Lucifer held his hand out. Alastor glanced at his open palm and then back up at the angel standing before him. His glowing yellow eyes seem to pierce through his soul for just a moment before Lucifer finally says, “The folder?” Alastor blinks. Lucifer sighs and continues. “The folder with the plans that Charlie left? Mind if I take a moment to look it over?” Alastor blinked once more, feeling completely frozen. He expected the fallen angel to demand that he hand over the instructions and storm off to do the task himself, or at least give the sinner some sort of jab about his involvement being too much, or something, anything- “Uh, hello..?” Alastor is ripped from his thoughts as Lucifer speaks up again. “Why of course, your majesty!” The demon stands up, enjoying how much the king of hell himself had to tilt his head back just to look up at him. Alastor loved looking down at the king. Figuratively and literally.

After supplying Lucifer with the folder of notes, the radio demon started walking towards the room in question. The devil didn’t follow immediately, first looking over the papers left to them by his daughter. Eventually, Lucifer catches up and starts talking. Alastor struggled to keep his face from showing his disinterest in the words coming from the fallen angel’s mouth, and yet his mind fails to wander the way it usually does when he’s ignoring someone. His attention stays firmly in the present, on the voice of the angel walking beside him. The words meant nothing, but his voice was-

“Hey, are you even listening?” Alastor feels his ears perk up a bit at the angel’s tone. “Yes, of course, sire. How could I ever fail to acknowledge the royalty walking beside me? You have my full attention!” His response was heavily coated in sarcasm, but it wasn’t a lie. He was paying attention to Lucifer. Just not to the words coming from his mouth. Either way, he was listening more closely now after being called out. “So, as I was saying,” the king continued, “Charlie wants the hotel staff’s stuff on the third floor, in that room next to the elevator, so we should probably do that part first. The new guests are going to have to keep their things to what they can fit in their room so we can have this space open before we remodel.” He continued listing off the steps to finishing the task as smoothly as possible while Alastor continued walking in silence beside him.

Lucifer wasn’t exactly thrilled at being partnered up with the radio demon for this little task, but the faster they got it done, the faster Lucifer could stop forcing himself to keep his eyes off of one of the most interesting beings in the building. Why was that so hard? They worked without speaking at first, but Lucifer couldn’t get his mind off of today’s writing prompt. 'Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.' First of all, it hasn’t gone unnoticed that these prompts are phrased really weird. 'Your Person?' Who says that? Alastor was far from what the angel would call “his person.” Lucifer’s cheeks warm just a tad as he shakes the thoughts from his head. Secondly, he didn’t want to be interested in this guy, not one bit. And yet…

In the middle of his wandering thoughts, he noticed a slight movement from the corner of his eye. When he looked, what looked back was Alastor’s shadow. Lucifer scanned the room. Alastor himself had left a few moments ago, but his odd shadow thing remained. It smiled, and although it was creepy just like Alastor’s, it was also… Warm? Friendly? Lucifer had to admit, the ability to pick up on the intentions and emotions of beings around him was always useful when it came up. He couldn’t read most souls very easily, but for some reason this shadow was expressive enough to make itself clear, even without speaking or moving. Lucifer cocked his head just a bit and opened his mouth to say something, but before any words could come, the shadow frowned and fled out of the open door. In an instant, Lucifer was left alone in the room again. But now, his curiosity about the odd thing that followed Alastor around was at the forefront of his mind as he worked to sort through boxes of stored items. I’ve already mentioned his shadow, so maybe it wouldn’t be super weird to put that in today’s letter too…

Lucifer’s mind continued to wander further and further as he stood in the mostly empty room, briefly contemplating how to proceed with the task he was given. There were only a few things left that had to be removed from the room, so he used his magic to start gathering them up to move them. It was only after a floating box broke under the weight of whatever was in it that he realized, too late, that not all of the boxes were exactly… sturdy. He rolled his eyes and started gathering up the miscellaneous things that ended up on the floor. He was nearly done cleaning up his mess when something from the broken box caught his eye. A…radio? I wonder if it belongs to Alastor… It was an older style, round on top and made of shiny reddish wood that felt beautifully smooth when Lucifer picked the object up. He flipped it around a few times to make sure nothing on it seemed damaged and went to place it back with the other objects from the box.

Of course, before he could get there, Alastor comes back into the room. Lucifer freezes momentarily, looking rapidly between the demon in the doorway and the radio in his hands. Shit shit shit “Uhh… It fell from a box, but it seems okay, uh, is- um, is it yours?” The demon didn't move at first, only his eyes fell down to the radio in the fallen angel’s hands. After a brutal second of nothing, Alastor speaks. “Well, it was mine, but it seems to have found a new owner.” Lucifer’s mouth falls open but fails to produce any words. The radio demon continues, “I have plenty of them, of course. I’d noticed that you’ve never mentioned my radio show, so I suppose you’ve been unable to listen, hmm?” Lucifer is still in shock. He’s definitely blushing. Why? Don’t ask him, he sure as fuck doesn’t know. But what he does know is that Alastor, Radio Demon Alastor, the batshit crazy asshole that seems to hate Lucifer with a passion, just offered him a gift. And not just any gift, a beautiful old fashioned radio, so he could listen to…

“Shall we move on to the next phase of this little project?” Alastor asks, as if he didn’t just shatter Lucifer’s understanding of him as a person. Why would he give him something, without asking anything in return… “No.” Lucifer frowns a bit at the radio in his hands. “You wouldn’t give me this without expecting something back.” The demon’s eyes opened a bit wider at the accusation. “What is it that you want from me?” Lucifer demands.

Alastor slowly steps into the room, towards Lucifer, never breaking eye contact. The angel does everything in his power not to step backwards, to hold his ground. This is going to end in another argument… At least another week in group therapy if I can’t keep my cool. He stands there, unmoving, until Alastor is only inches away. Please don’t turn this into a thing… Face to face, the two stared at each other for a very long moment. Too long of a moment. Just as Lucifer began to consider fleeing through a quick portal back to his room just to escape the sudden tension, Alastor put a small piece of paper in Lucifer’s hand, careful not to touch him directly. The demon never broke eye contact, not until he quickly turned and left the room.

Lucifer was left awestruck at what just happened. The whole exchange couldn’t have lasted longer than a minute, and yet it felt like it had been a full hour since picking up the old wooden radio. Breaking from his trance, he remembered to look at the paper in his hand. It was a… business card? In a delicate cursive font, it read “Tune in every evening at 4:30 for a broadcast with style” Under that was a number. A radio channel. It took a moment to sink in that this was one of the cards Alastor handed out to some of the guests as an invitation to tune in to his evening broadcast. He’s… Inviting me to listen to his show…? Lucifer wasn’t sure he would be interested in whatever it was Alastor considered to be a “broadcast with style,” but if he took the radio, it was an unspoken deal. He would be expected to listen at least once. He looked down at the device’s shiny surface, thinking of where in his room he could set it. Sighing, he accepted that this might not be a terrible thing. Hopefully it’ll at least help with these damn letters.

It’s some hours later when Alastor retires to his tower to prepare for the evening’s broadcast. He didn’t host a live talk show every night, more often than not his broadcasts were of his preferred music. Tonight, he was planning on throwing on some jazz tunes. Who didn’t like jazz? More importantly, he was also planning on leaving the tower during his show. He couldn’t help it, his curiosity had gotten the best of him. He had to know.

Earlier, when Alastor walked into the room he and Lucifer were tasked with organizing, he caught the fallen angel holding an old radio, looking over it with care, and the radio demon had an idea. His smile became manic, his eyes sharp. He slowly, menacingly, tried to back the startled king into a corner. But the angel would not budge. He trembled the tiniest bit, holding the radio close to his chest, his eyes widening as he waited for Alastor’s next move. The demon absolutely relished the look on Lucifer’s face. It wasn’t fear, no. That tremble was in… anticipation? Anticipation of what, he wondered? Another spat? Alastor didn’t have the energy today. Besides, he had much bigger ideas…

And now, at 4:45 in the evening, the first step of that plan was put into motion. He slipped through the halls in the shadows, thankfully not seen by anyone on the way. As he reached the other end of the hotel, he pondered what the best option was to go about this. He wanted to be discreet, he only needed to know if Lucifer had taken the bait. The demon sent his shadow ahead, into the king’s room.

Alastor made his way back to his own side of the building after getting the piece of information he needed. He didn’t bother snooping around this time, he’d wait for Lucifer to be out for that. His smile widened as he walked down the long hall back to his tower. He wondered how many terrible things he could put on the air right now, things that would rattle the king, make him wish he had never set foot here. No… Alastor thought. Wouldn’t be worth the effort… Just need to have patience. But right alongside the thoughts of how to get under Lucifer’s skin, how to make the king squirm under his gaze, there was another thought lingering. A thought that just kept repeating itself, over and over and over again. But unlike the more recent times these intruding thoughts had happened, this wasn’t one of fear or panic or death. It was two simple words. Words that meant nothing. Words he shouldn’t even bother acknowledging. But his mind was far from under his control, and the radio demon’s smile slightly fell into a look of annoyance as he allowed the thought to be heard. He’s listening.

Back in his tower, he decided to turn his attention to the letter in his pocket. He had completely forgotten about it in his exhausted early morning state. Alastor removed the letter in the same fashion that he did the day before, once again burning the envelope into a pile of ash as he watched. Opening the folded letter, he read the words on the paper before him.

“Name one thing that you’re curious about in regards to your person”

Alastor,

One thing I’m curious about is your shadow. Is it a part of you? Its own being? Does it make its own choices? Does it have a name?

The demon’s face doesn’t give away his irritation, but the shadow notices nonetheless. It looks over his shoulder, reading the letter. Alastor brushes the entity aside, giving it a clear warning glare. The shadow frowned and settled on the floor, unwilling to further upset its master. Why would anyone be curious about this…thing? It was a tool. No more, no less. Of course it doesn't have a name. Alastor paused, imagining all of his possessions being named. His microphone? Coat? Coffee mug? Ah yes, perhaps they ALL deserve a title! The demon chuckled to himself at the thought. The questions in the letter do make Alastor think for a moment, however. The shadow wasn’t him, but it wasn’t not him. And it did make some choices without direct orders. Maybe it was a tad more than a tool. Perhaps it was more like an extra limb that sometimes had a mind of its own. Yes, that was more accurate.

After deciding on that, Alastor turns to the day’s letter prompt. It reads, “Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.” His eyes close for a moment. This shouldn’t be entirely difficult. It would be easy to throw a couple of insults in there as well for good measure. The demon calmly listened to the jazz song playing on his show, glad for some quality music as background noise. He spent several minutes there, leaning back in his desk chair with his eyes closed. He was tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep. He sat there, without a single violent thought, thinking of the angel living on the other side of the hotel. Alastor let his mind wander farther than usual. He let his mind wander towards Lucifer.

His power. His potential. His sudden, (previously absent) dedication to the hotel and his daughter. Ah, yes. That’s a good one for the letter, the demon thought. What else? His likely struggle with being tall enough to ride any of the rollercoasters at his flashy little theme park? Ha, he’s just so small! The demon laughed to himself quietly, thinking of his many ‘short king’ jokes. Such a tiny thing. And without that ridiculous hat it’s even more noticeable. He thought for a moment about being so close to the king earlier today, when he tried to intimidate him into backing away and failed. The way the angel had to arch his neck just to look up at him, their absolutely ridiculous height difference making it impossible for the demon not to look down at him. It was amusing, that’s for sure. But as Alastor’s mind continues to wander, he wonders how else he could manage to get close enough to the tiny king to get to look down on him like that again…

Alastor’s eyes shot wide open. He wanted to hit himself. What the fuck? He could attempt to lie to himself, say that his desire was a simple manifestation of his need to be the most dominant energy in the room. And in some ways, it was. But there was more. More that Alastor just could not figure out. Why was he planning to be around him again? He needed to get this letter done and over with and move on with his evening.

“Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.”

Alastor sighs as he gives in to his frustration and starts writing whatever he can come up with.

On the other side of the hotel, Lucifer fought with the very same piece of paper, barely managing to put the thing together before bed. He attempted to do it earlier while listening to some music, but… Let’s be fair, Alastor’s radio show was distracting! It was… surprisingly nice. Lucifer kept waiting for the calming music to stop and the strange, demonic talk show to start, but it never did. Instead, he slowly drifted to sleep only 30 minutes in.

Lucifer awoke later that night, having missed dinner by at least an hour. He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, reaching for the radio now playing nothing but static. After turning it off, he once again remembered that he hadn’t yet completed his daughter’s assignment. Turning to the empty page again, he begins to write.

Chapter five below!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #fanfic #mine #do you want to know

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zaebeecee · 1 year ago

Text

To Sever a Loveless Bond

••RadioDust Soulmate AU••

Part 20/?

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

•••

Well, this took longer than intended. Y’all have no idea how much I love all of you and how grateful I am for your patience.

CW: implied cannibalism, electrocution, more Valentino-typical physical abuse, Stolas talking legal talk

•••

“The fuck you mean, he’s gone?”

“I mean he’s gone.” Niffty shrugged at Cherri, not sure exactly how else she should have phrased it. Cherri and Husk were both staring down at her, clearly riding the emotional high that had been building during their (inevitable) fight, and Niffty thought they both looked like they’d had a rug pulled out from underneath them. It would have been pretty funny if Niffty wasn’t feeling so concerned about Alastor. “I went to his room and he isn’t there.”

“Who’s gone?” a man’s voice called from above them. Niffty looked up to the balcony, where those two married imps were looking down at them with concern.

“Alastor, apparently,” Cherri called back.

“Alastor’s gone?” Arackniss called, from the other side of the lobby.

“For fuck’s sake, yes, Alastor is not in the building!” Husk said in a loud voice that was as close as he ever got to yelling. Niffty watched both Millie and Moxxie look back behind them as Charlie, way down the second floor hallway, yelled something muffled that Niffty couldn’t understand (but was probably a question asking if Alastor was gone).

Everyone gathered in the bar area, Charlie descending the stairs two at a time in a little leaping run that was one of the few goat-like quirks she ever showed. Once she reached the bar, Charlie held her hands out, palms down, and looked around at all of them. “What happened?”

Immediately, Cherri and Husk looked at Niffty, and everyone followed their lead. She blinked a couple of times, not used to having this level of undivided attention from people. “…uhm. Well, I— Cherri said I should keep an eye on Alastor,” she said, pointing at the other sinner.

“Yeah, to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid!” Cherri said, before turning to the princess. “Blitzø and Vaggie went to take Angie’s contract to that prince. I thought it would be a good idea to make sure Alastor didn’t fuck anything up.”

“He wouldn’t—” Charlie began, almost like a reflex, before she amended, “We don’t know he’s… doing anything he shouldn’t be doing. He could be… y’know…” She trailed off under the weight of Husk’s withering stare, clearing her throat instead. “Niffty, how do you know he’s gone? Did you see him leave?”

“No,” Niffty said. “But I know he isn’t here.” She looked pointedly at Husk, who abruptly glanced away from her. “Right?”

“…” Husk closed his eyes, sighing. “…she’s right.”

Charlie looked between the two of them, her expression torn. “…okay. Okay, I’ll trust the two of you. So… if he isn’t here, where is he?”

“He’s probably goin’ to VoxTek,” Arackniss said from his perch on the corner of the bar.

Almost immediately, Charlie did a double-take, like she hadn’t even realized he was there. “…what?”

Arackniss frowned at her, folding two of his arms on his bent knees (how he was able to make crouching in a suit look badass, Niffty couldn’t understand). “When I was gettin’ Tony’s contract outta Valentino’s office, Valentino came in, mutterin’ some shit about Alastor. I dunno what he was doin’, but he got somethin’ outta his desk and made some kinda remark about darin’ the Radio Demon to ignore him now. I figure he did somethin’ to bait the guy into goin’ out there.”

Cherri looked at him. “So the fuck do we do?”

“I don’t think none of us are in a position to stop an angry overlord from pickin’ a fight with three other overlords, exceptin’ the princess here,” Arackniss allowed, nodding towards Charlie.

“That would… not be a good idea,” Charlie said, twisting her fingers together nervously. “Plus, I’m not actually allowed to interfere with overlord disputes until they start getting out of hand. Alastor has every right to fight the Vees if that’s what he wants to do, it’s how the overlord system works.”

“So we can’t do anything?” Niffty asked, staring up at Charlie and feeling the distress mounting inside her at the idea of not being able to help Alastor.

Almost immediately, Charlie knelt down and placed her hands on Niffty’s shoulders. “Hey hey hey,” she said in a soothing voice. “It’s okay, Niffty, I promise we’ll think of something.”

“We need t’ wait for Blitzø t’ get back,” Millie said, looking at Moxxie. “It… it won’t take that long for Prince Stolas t’ find a loophole, will it?”

“If there is a loophole,” Moxxie said, a little pessimistically, before he added, “Of course, if Valentino wrote it himself, I don’t think that will be a problem. He seems pretty…”

“Stupid?” Arackniss supplied dryly.

“Yeah, basically.”

“If he got one of the other two to write it for him, it’ll be a bigger problem,” Husk said. “But Valentino’s vain and an idiot, I wouldn’t be surprised if his pride didn’t let him.”

Niffty sniffled, rubbing her hand underneath her nose. Read the room, Noriko. “What do we do if Prince Stolas doesn’t find anything?”

“Then we’ll figure something else out,” Charlie promised. “We aren’t just going to leave Alastor and Angel on their own. Okay?”

Niffty didn’t feel any better, but she nodded anyway. “…okay.”

As they all split off to discuss whatever their next moves were, Husk looked down at her, his frown softer than it had been. “…hey, Niff. Wanna reorganize the bar supplies?”

Niffty stared up at him, blinking. “…you never let me behind the bar.”

“Yeah, for good reason.” When he stopped there and didn’t withdraw the question, Niffty nodded hesitantly, and he waved her back. “Okay. Come on, before I change my mind.”

Niffty almost smiled as she scampered back behind the bar, ready to take Husk’s absolutely nonsensical organizational system and make it reasonable. It wasn’t a perfect distraction, but it was something, at least. And at this point, she was grateful for anything.

•••

Hell had an extremely complicated caste system, when you tried to figure out how power was distributed and what territories and domains in this place actually were. Back when Vaggie had been an exorcist, learning the intricacies of Hell’s hierarchy, she had it emphasized to her time and again that no one besides sinners were to be harmed. Because of this, she had been given only cursory information on the Hellborn that dwelt outside of the Pride ring; she knew the names of the Princes and their domains, of course, as well as what the Goetia were and the names of a few key members of their nobility. Outside of that, she had been taught very little, and as her time in Hell had been mostly devoted to doing what she could to keep Charlie out of trouble, she felt no more prepared for meeting a Goetian prince than she would have when she first arrived in this place.

Prince Stolas, Vaggie knew, was the only notable child of King Paimon and kept watch over the movements of stars and planets as his domain. It was a prophetic position, some said, or at least as close to prophetic as anything could possibly be; that kind of power made Vaggie nervous.

Blitzø didn’t seem to have that same problem.

“How do you know a Goetian prince again?”

“It’s a long fucking story,” Blitzø said unhelpfully, his eyes on the high stone wall that surrounded the property of the manor house that sat a short distance outside of Pentagram City.

“But he’s a friend of yours,” Vaggie guessed, one eyebrow raised as she watched the imp begin scaling the wall.

Blitzø made a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a grunt of effort. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Uh-huh. Why aren’t we going through the gate?”

“Because,” Blitzø said, grabbing onto the top of the wall, “I am an imp, you are a nobody, and we are not supposed to be trespassing on Goetian royal grounds in the middle of the night. Besides, he’s in the middle of a divorce and his harpy of a wife might be keeping tabs on the building and I don’t wanna deal with the bullshit drama that’d follow if that’s the case.” He hauled himself up, crouching on the stone. “It’s fine, this is how I alw—shit…!” The last word came out as a squeak as he lost his balance, toppled over the wall, and landed in what sounded like some plants.

Vaggie sighed, then crouched and leaped up, landing on the top of the wall. She looked down at where Blitzø was gracelessly detangling himself from a plant that looked suspiciously like it was either trying to cuddle him or eat him. “Need help?”

“I am a very capable young woman.”

“Wonderful.” She jumped down, landing silently on the grass and waiting for him to roll out of the foliage. While he uttered a long string of curses, most of which Vaggie had never heard before, she examined the house. It was so… weird, how much even Hellborn architecture looked like shit that she could have easily seen in life. Demon or not, even she could tell this guy was absolutely loaded.

But I guess it wouldn’t be Hell if it didn’t have rich people.

Blitzø stumbled up next to her, brushing soil off of his coat. “Okay, all good. See that balcony?” he asked, pointing up and drawing her eye to a large stone platform jutting out of the wall, beyond which she could see two open doors that led into a dark room.

“…we’re not breaking into his bedroom, are we?” Vaggie asked as they darted across the lawn as quietly as they could.

“No, of course not,” Blitzø said, taking hold of the trellis and grinning at her. “The door’s open, we’re just walking in.”

Vaggie resisted the urge to groan as the imp began scaling the trellis with impressive speed. “I see why your employees always seem so pissed at you,” she hissed before she began following him up.

The bedroom beyond the balcony, while dark, looked… grand, but kind of gloomy. Vaggie thought it looked like a place you’d hole yourself up in during a bout of depression, naturally just making the depression worse. Blitzø crossed the balcony to the open doors, leaning in and knocking on the wood door frame a couple of times. “Stolas,” he hissed, knocking again. “Hey. Stols. Are you awake?”

Stols? Vaggie thought with a frown. He’s given a Goetian prince a nickname but claims they’re not friends?

From the bed, she heard a quiet groan, followed by a soft muttering, and finally a shriek as four glowing red eyes opened. “Oh my stars!!”

“Whoa!” Blitzø came a couple of steps into the room, holding his hands out. “Whoa, whoa, chill, Stolas, it’s just me!”

“Bl… Blitzy…?” a smooth and somewhat foppish tenor asked curiously, almost disbelievingly. Blitzy?? The lamps flared to life at once, and Vaggie winced, shielding her eye from the sudden light. When she opened it again, she saw an extremely tall, owl-like demon tying a silk robe closed and smoothing down the feathers on top of his head. “Whatever are you doing here? It… it isn’t—”

“It isn’t about that,” Blitzø said before Vaggie learned whatever ‘it’ was. “…oh, right. Stolas, this is Vaggie, Princess Charlie’s girlfriend or whatever.”

“Oh!” Stolas was now staring at her, his eyes wide. “I— I see— hello,” he said, brimming with awkwardness. Vaggie just nodded, feeling that awkwardness herself. “So… um… if it— if it isn’t…” He cleared his throat, then straightened himself into what seemed an attempt at a more dignified posture, the effect somewhat ruined by his robe and still-ruffled feathers. “What is it, then? It must be important, if you would come out here in the middle of the night.”

There was a lot hiding in that sentence, but Vaggie could only feel the weight of the implications; she didn’t understand the tension in the room, or why Blitzø was showing the first signs of caution that she had seen from him. His head was tilted down just slightly, though he maintained eye contact, and his tail sharply lashed behind him in quick and agitated, but brief, movements. “I need to ask you to… do something for me,” Blitzø said, after what sounded like a lot of thought.

“Of course,” Stolas said, surprise flickering across his face for a moment.

“You’re good with contracts, right?” Blitzø asked. “Fizz told me you helped Ozzie out when he had that kidnapping incident.”

Stolas stared at him for a long moment, and Vaggie thought he looked surprised… or, perhaps, like he was processing something. “…I… did provide assistance to Lord Asmodeus, yes. You require help with a contract?”

Blitzø didn’t address the obvious question—namely, why are you referring to the Prince of Lust so casually—and instead pulled out Angel’s contract from inside his coat. “I need to know if there’s a loophole in this.”

Stolas took it carefully, but he didn’t open it right away. Instead, he said, “…both of you, come with me.” He then turned, walking to the door and out of the room without bothering to make sure they were following.

Vaggie caught the way Blitzø rolled his eyes, a movement so quick she wasn’t even sure he was aware of doing it, as they both followed the Goetian prince out the door and down the hallway. The whole place felt so hollow and cold, lacking a sense of warmth that Vaggie believed was the most important thing to making a place a home. It didn’t help that all of the portraits had been covered with white cloths, as well as what looked like statuary and other decor.

Blitzø seemed to notice that, as well, and it appeared to be unusual enough for him to comment on it. “…what’s up with the fabric?”

“Hm? Oh,” Stolas said, his voice flippant and disinterested. “The household is relocating to another building.”

“…you’re moving?” Blitzø asked, surprised.

“I suppose you could call it that,” Stolas said. “This place is, after all, still technically the property of my father. With Stella gone, there is no one to object, and since Via has reached her own age of majority, it shouldn’t interfere with her affairs either.”

“…ah,” Blitzø said, like he wasn’t sure what else to say. He did, however, whisper to Vaggie, “I don’t blame him, Paimon’s a dick.” Vaggie bit down on her tongue to stifle a surprised snort of amusement, but Stolas didn’t appear to be listening anyway.

They followed him through a set of double doors and into something like a library with a planetarium model set into a recess in the ceiling, hanging low enough to dominate the upper half of the room’s visual real estate. Stolas went to the desk and sat, opening up the contract and beginning to give it a cursory once-over. It wasn’t long before he spoke again. “…ah, Blitzy, darling?”

“Mm,” Blitzø answered, his back to them as he looked around the room.

“Would you care to tell me why, precisely, it is that you are in possession of Angel Dust’s soul contract with the Vees?”

“Long story,” Blitzø said. “And I’ll explain when I have more time, but long story short, I promised the Radio Demon that I’d get you to look at it for some kind of loophole in exchange for him not eating my entrails while alive.”

Stolas opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and he just stared at Blitzø’s back. When the imp didn’t continue, Vaggie spoke, drawing the prince’s attention. “Angel’s been… kidnapped isn’t really the right word,” she said. “But he’s being held at VoxTek, and that’s a really big problem for Alastor for reasons I don’t feel prepared to go into. Plus, he’s… y’know. He’s our friend. We were hoping that you might be able to find a way to get his contract… broken, or invalidated, or something so that Valentino can’t force him to stay there anymore.”

Stolas’s expression softened a little. “…I see.” He turned to the contract again, frowning faintly. “This contract is quite old. Decades. That’s… highly unusual, for a sinner soul contract.”

Vaggie raised an eyebrow. “…is it?” she asked. “I thought making a contract for your soul was usually permanent.”

“If a living human makes a deal with one of the less scrupled Hellborn, that isn’t uncommon,” Stolas said. “But all overlords in Pentagram City hold soul contracts. Typically, they’re comparable to indentured service; a sinner contracts their soul to an overlord in exchange for a benefit for the duration of the contract, and in exchange, the overlord becomes the sinner’s… employer, you could say. Normally, the overlord will either set a length of time or a monetary value, and the contract will be over when either the allotted time has passed or the sinner has repaid the set value.”

Vaggie frowned. “…what does Angel’s contract say?”

“Well… according to this, the value of his soul is… open for reevaluation,” Stolas said. “Which suggests that the price could be modified an indefinite number of times to prevent the contract from ending.”

Vaggie’s frown deepened. “…that doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s quite an unfair contingency,” Stolas agreed. He then sighed. “You two should make yourselves comfortable. You may look at any of the books I have if you would like, but it might take me a while to locate a weak point in this text.”

“Thank you,” Vaggie said, turning away and pulling out her phone. She fired off a quick text to Charlie, letting her know that Stolas was looking for a loophole, and then wandered over to the bookshelf for want of something else to do.

It had already been a long night, and it didn’t look like it would be over any time soon.

•••

When the alarm first flared to life, Angel was asleep.

It wasn’t a sound sleep by any means. It wasn’t restful, and it certainly wasn’t peaceful. How he had managed to drift off, he wasn’t precisely sure, but his dreams were strange and obtuse and filled with odd symbolism that left him with no specific memories, only an aching sense of cold dread as he was jarred into wakefulness. For a long moment, he had no idea where he was; his first thought was his own bed, with some bizarre siren going off somewhere in the hotel, and his second thought was that he was in— someone else’s.

But the first one didn’t feel right, and even in his hazy state, he knew the second was no longer possible.

The vague scent of smoke and static burn in the air, coupled with the electric blue accent lighting cutting through the darkness, immediately set Angel right. I’m in VoxTek. But he had known that, of course, because that was where he was always going to be now. At least he had been left to his slumber on the couch, a small mercy that he was more than willing to embrace at this point.

The alarm blared again, and Angel looked up, finally fully registering what it meant; something was attacking the building. “What the fuck…?” Far below, he heard the sounds of breaking glass and screaming, and it was getting steadily closer, like whatever was happening was climbing throughout the station.

Angel didn’t hesitate. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t stay put or go seek somewhere safe, but he vaulted off the couch and bolted from the room in nothing but the sweater he had been allowed to stave off the chill. The sounds were still below him, so he headed for the stairwell, jumping down a flight at a time until it sounded close enough that he headed through the doors into the hall and down towards one of the filming studios. Angel shoved his way inside and into the huge, darkened room, dodging equipment until he reached the center and looking around quickly.

Apparently, he had come into the main newsroom, Katie Killjoy’s very particular set preferences still in place from the filming likely done earlier that evening. There was no one there now, of course, but the room was set up for the next morning, cameras still in place and sound equipment ready to be fired up. But there was nothing else, no sign of anything that was causing that much noise and panic throughout the building. It was so close, though, so Angel knew it couldn’t be far. He saw the doors on the other side of the studio, and had just started moving when he heard a loud and heavy thud against the wall.

Angel gasped, staggering backwards as whatever it was crashed against the wall again, then again, cracks appearing and plaster raining down until the entire thing broke. Angel watched a large, spindly hand reach out and grab the broken edge of the wall, sharp claws digging gouges as the hand tightened its grip and leveraged the rest of the body inside.

It was something Angel had only seen once, when Mimzy had led her loan sharks to the hotel; but back then, Alastor had only grown as large as he felt he needed to, and he had been somewhat jubilant in his violence. But the figure that clawed its way into the studio was much larger, and so, so very angry.

“…Alastor…” Angel whispered, watching as the monstrous and savage form of the Radio Demon dragged itself out of the wall and swept a camera out of its way with an impatient hand. If he stood up to his full height, his antlers would have dug into the studio’s ceiling, said antlers grown sharp and tangled like an angry bramble plant. Blood dripped from his teeth and down his chin, staining his claws and spattered all over his face and coat. His eyes looked at once sharp and completely unfocused, radio dials twitching and flicking madly against the deep black of his sclera. Angel knew that Alastor could have killed him without a thought, but that wasn’t on his mind as he ran forward. “Alastor!!”

Instantly, that giant and terrifying face swiveled on a too-flexible neck to stare at him, eyes unblinking and furious grin stretched wide enough to show rows of brilliant green stitching at the corners. He didn’t immediately strike, however, dropping onto his hands and knees as Angel approached. An animalistic noise, something between a growl and a hiss, was the only sound he made as he lowered his head to stare at the spider demon.

If Angel was sane, he would have run. Alastor was one of the most dangerous entities in the entire Pride ring, an overlord infamous for the simple rumor of devouring other overlords. But Angel knew he couldn’t have possibly been sane, because he didn’t stop until he collapsed onto his own knees right in front of the Radio Demon, breathing hard from exertion and the still-present panic waking up to the blaring alarm had caused. Alastor’s growl was a low rumble deep in his chest that felt like it shook the studio floor, and Angel slowly looked up, staring into those terrifying eyes as their dials shivered in preparation to start spinning again.

Angel was good at not letting himself think, and that was what he did as he raised two of his hands and cupped Alastor’s monstrous face as best he could. “Alastor,” he whispered, his eyes filling with tears. The Radio Demon’s skin felt oddly cold to the touch. “You weren’t supposed to come here.”

Alastor didn’t speak. Angel wasn’t positive he even could in his current state. His only answer was another growl, but even as the sound rumbled through the studio… slowly, gently, he leaned his head into Angel’s hand. His breath was labored and smelled like he might have eaten half of the employees downstairs, but Angel couldn’t make himself care. Tears fell freely as he stroked Alastor’s cheek, the growl turning into something closer to a purr.

Angel wanted to ask Alastor what the fuck he was doing there, what he was planning, what he was thinking, but he didn’t get the chance. Before he could open his mouth, he felt something familiar and hot and sharp around his throat just before his body was violently yanked backwards with a jerk hard enough to lift him entirely off the ground before he hit the concrete and began sliding across it as he was dragged. Immediately, the very little calm Alastor had found was gone, and he screamed, rearing up onto his feet again and flexing his claws.

Angel smelled Valentino before he felt him, the overlord seizing his hair and yanking him upwards without releasing his chain. “That worked better than I could have hoped,” Valentino said quietly, and he sounded much too smug and way too calm for someone who had the full attention of a furious Radio Demon. But Valentino didn’t run. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself.

Alastor began charging across the studio, knocking cameras and lights out of his way, sparks flying through the dark and casting brief, deep shadows across his face. Angel gasped sharply as Alastor reached out towards them, but he stopped, another scream escaping him… but this one was a shriek of pain. Beneath it, Angel heard the loud buzz of electricity and the hiss of burning flesh, and he saw flashes of electric blue light backlighting the Radio Demon in enormous flickering bursts. So strong was the surge that the sounds of electric thrumming throughout the building, always present at VoxTek, cut out with a dying whir as the entire building lost power. Angel screamed as best he could with the shackle still limiting his air intake, but he couldn’t do more than struggle against Valentino’s hold as Alastor collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud and the occasional bright spark of lingering static. Slowly, he began shrinking again, his body resuming its usual size and shape without his consciousness to maintain his shift. The emergency lights along the floors flickered and then came to life, casting their eerie blue glow across the scattered and ruined film equipment.

“Well,” Valentino said into the sudden empty silence, one that felt heavy and oppressive with the lack of any electronic noises at all around them. “That was certainly exciting.”

Footsteps echoed off the studio walls, and Angel tore his eyes from Alastor’s unresponsive form to the only source of illumination in the entire room besides the emergency lights. Vox’s face looked… passive, but annoyed, a sure sign that he was containing unbridled rage while in a public part of the building out of sheer force of habit. Behind him, Angel heard a soft and irritated murmur before a cell phone flashlight came on, Velvette following along behind him and casting around to examine the damage. “Good job on that, boys,” she observed. “So chuffed you decided to piss off the Radio Demon, we had far too much of the building intact for my liking.”

Vox didn’t look at her; his focus seemed split entirely between Alastor and Valentino. Between the glow from his face and from the floor lights, Angel could make out his arm as he reached up and flexed his hand, thick and heavy electrical cables pulling free from Alastor’s body with a sharp jerk that sent blood arcing through the air in their wake. Angel realized that must have been how Vox knocked him out; Alastor had been so enraged he hadn’t even noticed that Vox was there until the massive black cords had buried themselves into his flesh to deliver VoxTek’s entire electrical supply straight into him.

“Val,” Vox said, his voice clearly struggling to maintain its control. “What. The fuck. Did you do?”

Valentino didn’t seem bothered by Vox’s obvious rage. He released Angel’s hair, but not his chain, and the spider collapsed to the floor at Valentino’s feet as that chain kept him anchored in place. “Exactly what you wouldn’t,” he said easily. “And it worked, didn’t it? Something finally encouraged Alastor to enter VoxTek.”

Vox’s facial graphics glitched briefly as his lip curled. “We wanted him to come here,” he said, before he gestured around sharply with one thrown out hand. “We didn’t want him fucking destroying everything! We’re lucky the goddamn building didn’t collapse on top of us, Val!”

“You got what you wanted,” Valentino said with an odd air of coldness that Angel wasn’t used to hearing him use with Vox. “And look, he’s incapacitated and my pet is in one piece. Looks like we both win, doesn’t it?”

Vox looked at him, his left eye twitching a couple of times. “…you cannot comprehend how badly I want to kill you right now.”

“But you won’t,” Valentino said, yanking Angel back to his feet. “You never do.”

“Wait,” Angel pleaded, as Valentino grabbed him by the upper arm. “What are you going to do to him?!”

Vox looked at Angel as though only just registering his presence. “That isn’t your concern.”

“Fuck you!” Angel yelled, yanking against Valentino’s grip ineffectually. “I won’t let you hurt him!!”

Vox actually smirked. “I don’t think either of you are in any condition to dictate anything.”

“Alastor!!”

Valentino’s grip tightened and he pulled, throwing Angel across the room away from Alastor. He landed on his back with a sharp cry, cracking one eye open and shoving himself backwards as Valentino advanced on him. “I have been so incredibly lenient with you, amorcito,” he snarled. “But it seems you didn’t learn anything from your last punishment. I think it’s time to rectify that.”

Valentino struck him across the face so hard his lip split and his vision blurred, Angel hitting the concrete floor again. He could just see Vox using cables to lift Alastor’s body from the floor before Valentino filled his vision again, grabbing him and hauling him up, and Angel wondered if he was ever going to see Alastor again.

He wondered if he was going to see anything at all after Valentino was done with him.

•••

Vaggie had a very bad feeling.

When she had been alive, she’d tried to chalk up those bad feelings to simple Catholicism-induced superstition, always treating them like nothing even when she was well aware that ignoring those feelings always led to something terrible happening. Since dying, however, she had learned that those feelings… they weren’t something to ignore.

She had them in Hell not infrequently, of course, since… well. It was Hell. But she still knew that, even in a place like this, she couldn’t just ignore it.

Concentrating on Stolas’s book collection, fascinating as it was, proved more and more impossible as time crawled on. Vaggie turned to pacing and checking her phone at a rate of roughly twice per minute, knowing that wouldn’t help anything or make things go faster but unable to stop herself. She felt like she was about to go insane when Stolas’s voice finally broke the silence. “Miss Vaggie, was it?”

Vaggie’s head shot up and she pivoted on her heel, approaching the desk. “Yeah. Yes,” she corrected, reminding herself that she needed to be polite here no matter how impatient she was feeling.

Stolas didn’t look at her, his eyes still on the contract. “You said Angel Dust is a friend of yours, so I trust you know him quite well. You are a resident at the Hazbin Hotel, correct?” Vaggie made an affirmative noise. “And I remember hearing that Angel Dust, too, moved into that place. Your… resident celebrity.”

“Yeah,” Vaggie said with a frown. “Why?”

“How long has he lived there?”

“I… guess about… nine months, now?” Vaggie guessed. The change in the extermination schedule had thrown off everyone’s perception of time.

“And how long has it been since he was taken back to VoxTek?” Stolas asked.

“Less than two days.”

Stolas nodded, then turned the contract, pointing to part of it… particularly a word that Vaggie didn’t know. “Much of this contract contains some extremely archaic language,” Stolas said. “It seems as though, in a bid to make it as iron-clad as possible, Valentino pulled from old Goetian tradition rather than simply relying on sinner terminology.”

“What does that mean?” Vaggie asked, wishing (not for the first time) that she hadn’t dropped out of high school to work when she was a teenager.

“It means that this contract is non-standard, but this clause here is the relevant portion,” Stolas said. “The intention of this clause is that the one who holds Angel Dust’s soul contract, or Valentino himself, is the only one who can set the value of his soul. It also grants him sole right to change that value whenever he wishes. But the phrasing…” Stolas tapped the word Vaggie didn’t recognize. “This word here, aheydrun, doesn’t have a modern Hellish direct translation, but the closest approximation is ‘keeper’. However, an aheydrun is one who holds and controls a residence; its use in contracts is that it granted power, ultimately, to the master of the house in question. During the time Angel Dust lived at VoxTek, provided he resided within Valentino’s quarters, that would make Valentino the aheydrun as specified by the contract.”

Vaggie stared at him. “…but Angel is at VoxTek again.”

Stolas shook his head. “Irrelevant,” he said. “According to Goetian legal tradition, once the contracted soul has lived under a different master of the house for a period of seven black moons, the contracted power of aheydrun passes to them.”

Blitzø, who apparently had snuck up when Vaggie wasn’t looking, put his chin on Stolas’s desk. “What’s that mean in one dollar words, Stolas?”

“A black moon is another phrase for a new moon, which happens once per lunar cycle,” Stolas said. “It means that, per Angel Dust’s contract, if he has lived in the Hazbin Hotel for seven months or more, the power to determine the value of his soul has already passed from Valentino to Charlotte Morningstar. The fact that he’s no longer at the hotel won’t affect this for another seven months.”

Vaggie stared at him. “…but… but if that were true, wouldn’t… wouldn’t it already be broken? The contract, I mean.”

“If Princess Charlotte has not reevaluated his soul, no, it will have remained at whatever Valentino’s last determination was.”

Vaggie looked from Stolas to the contract. “…you mean… if Charlie says that the worth of Angel’s soul is lower than the amount of money he’s made for VoxTek through his movies…”

“The contract will end immediately.”

“…I have to go,” Vaggie said. “Can I—”

“Of course,” Stolas said, offering the contract out to her.

Vaggie reached out, but didn’t take it immediately, instead clasping Stolas’s hand in both of hers the way she had seen Charlie do to other people before. “Thank you so much,” she said to the surprised Goetia. “I have no idea how Charlie’s going to want to repay you for this, but she will. Thank you.”

“Oh, she doesn’t…!” Stolas began, but Vaggie wasn’t listening, taking the contract and bolting out of the room. She heard Blitzø yell something after her, but didn’t slow down, taking the same path back the way they had come.

She ran out onto the balcony just as Blitzø caught up with her. “Fuck, you are fast!” he complained.

“That’s nothing compared to what you’re about to see.” She looked at him. “I have to move quickly. You coming?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Then get on my back.”

“What—”

“Now, Blitzø, I don’t have time!”

The imp scrambled up onto her back; he wasn’t all that much shorter than her, being as tall as he was, but he was so light she barely felt it. “Okay, now what?”

“Now, we move,” Vaggie said. She crouched, and she barely registered Blitzø’s cry of surprise as her wings unfurled from her back and she ran for the balcony railing. She jumped, landed briefly on the stone, and launched herself up into the air.

Don’t do anything else stupid, Alastor, she thought. It isn’t just Angel. I’m doing this for you, too.

Not that she would ever say any of that to either, of course. Some lines just didn’t need crossing.

•••

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nerdysleepybunny · 11 months ago

Note

Could you do a Hazbin Hotel fic where Alastor and Lucifer are furious at each other and they get into a big fight that everyone witnesses, and Alastor says something that hit hard for Luci and he goes back into his room or something, (just away from him). Charlie gets furious at Al and sends him to apologise, and Idk, Luci could be pushing Al and his apology away or something, and somehow, Al is still hurt from the fight with Adam, and there could be some fluff and all, a little angst. But absolutley NO smut or anything like that. ^^

I hope its okay for your limitations. And I hope you write it. Absolutely no rush or hate if you can't or don't want to. <3

APOLOGIES THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO! I hope it was worth the wait friend <3

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Fandom(s): Hazbin Hotel Character(s): Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie (ft. Husk, Angel, Vaggie, Niffty) Reader: None TW: Arguing, mention of alcohol Style: Short story

Summary: Lucifer and Alastor get into an argument about how Lucifer isn't a very good father anymore. Afterwards, Charlie forces Alastor to apologize.

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Angel Dust was tipsy, but sober enough to speak coherently. He was venting his frustrations to Husk, talking about how awful his day at work was. Husk listened quietly, his full attention on the spider, until he felt a familiar sense of dread. Husk could always sense Alastor before actually seeing him.

"Angel, Husk." Alastor greeted with his usual terrifying grin. Angel only waved him off, too much in his feels to flirt with him like he usually did. "Hey, boss." Husk muttered before quickly pouring Alastor his usual glass of whiskey. The sooner he pleased Alastor, the sooner he could be alone with Angel again; the way he liked it.

Once the overlord retreived his drink, he walked with satisfaction towards the lounge area, drowning out Husk and Angel's conversation starting back up. It was hard to focus on their silly troubles when his eyes caught onto Lucifer, who was sitting in Alastor's usual seat and conversing with Charlie and Vaggie.

"Ahem!" Alastor announces himself and interrupts the conversation, his smile turning more malicious towards Lucifer. "I believe you're in my seat." Lucifer immediately gets defensive. Charlie sees where this is going, but doesn't get a chance to intervene. "Your seat? This is my hotel! I can sit wherever I please." Alastor laughed. "Actually, this hotel belongs to Charlie and I! Isn't that right, dear?"

"Um... well-" Charlie tried, but was once again interrupted. "This hotel was built by my daughter, with my permission and last name." Lucifer was attempting to remain professional, but Alastor managed to get under his skin like no other. "And who helped physically build the hotel? Who kept the place safe and running smoothly?" Niffty, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, responded to Alastor's rhetorical question while sweeping along the floor. "Alastor did!" The tiny maid giggled and ran off after receiving a glare from Vaggie.

"And who is Charlie's father?!" "Well, it may as well be me with how absent you are!"

"But I'm back now! I'm trying!"

"But is it enough...?"

That question broke Lucifer. Was he enough? He looked at Charlie, his beautiful daughter. With friends and a partner by her side, and an entire business she's made almost entirely without him. Maybe Alastor was right, and nothing would even change if he left again. So he did.

Charlie stared in shock as Lucifer retreated upstairs, likely towards his own tower. Vaggie, arms crossed, was giving Alastor a dirty look that he completely ignored. "Nice going, puto." Charlie placed a hand on her lover's arm to calm her down before standing. "Alastor, you seriously shouldn't have done that..."

Alastor, being the selfish man he is, just hummed and took a seat on his chair. He took a sip of his whiskey before replying. "Well, it certainly got him out of my chair."

Charlie couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was Alastor truly this arrgogant (yes he is, my sweet naive princess)?! She quickly realized that she wasn't going to get through to him with her kind demeanor, so she put her foot down. "Alastor... as the princess of Hell, it is completely unacceptable for you to insult my father. Go apologize to him, now."

Alastor's smile faltered slightly, not used to being ordered around by Charlie of all people. But seeing her serious face and Vaggie's shocked yet proud look, he knew he had no choice if he wanted to stay on the princess' good side. With a sigh, he stood and placed down his whiskey. "Very well!" He then vanished in a puff of dark shadows, teleporting himself inside Lucifer's bedroom, the man in question angrily making a duck of Alastor before setting it ablaze.

"My, my... what a peculier way to spend your time!" Alastor commented almost mockingly as he looked around at all the ducks. Lucifer had to hold back from shifting to his demonic form out of anger. "You don't have permission to be inside my bedroom. Get out." He commanded, and Alastor almost would've been scared if it wasn't for the king's short stature. He teleported once again, now right next to Lucifer so he could place his arm on top of the angel's head. "No need for all that! I simply came to apologize for my rude words. How about we get a meal to make up for everything?"

"Apologize...?" Lucifer angrily took a step away from Alastor, not trusting him in the slightest. But food did sound good. And if his apology was sincere (which it wasn't), then maybe they could finally end all the fighting and bickering. "Fine." "Wonderful!"

If only Lucifer knew that Alastor meant Cannibal Town... (he's traumatized)

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

#bun writes #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel vaggie #alastor x lucifer #alastor vs lucifer

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hismercytomyjustice · 8 months ago

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Happy Wednesday-eve, chums! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Time for a snippet from Chapter Thirteen of my kid!Alastor Hazbin Hotel fic, The Signal that Beckons.

Preview below! Hope you enjoy!

—

Alastor slowly came to, blinking owlishly. It took him a moment to realize he was lying on the ground, something soft cushioning his head.

Why was he lying on the ground?

He’d made it back to his rooms, hadn’t he? Had he collapsed upon reaching them?

No. This floor wasn’t the hardwood he was accustomed to. Which meant he must have collapsed somewhere else.

He could have sworn he’d made it back to his rooms. Admittedly, he wasn’t at his best…

Alastor’s hand reflexively moved to the wound on his chest, but he felt no pain.

How much time had passed? Had he already managed to heal himself?

That seemed…unlikely, given the angelic nature of the wound.

He forced himself up into a seated position, head swimming and vision alarmingly blurry. Had he hit his head …?

He glanced down at himself, eyes narrowing when he realized he was no longer in his ruined clothes. His gloves were now fully black and he only vaguely recognized the white button up and red waistcoat he wore now.

His coat and microphone were nowhere to be found.

If Niffty hadn’t already ended that worthless bastard’s life, killing Adam and broadcasting his screams would have been the next item on his to-do list.

He lifted his head, hazarding a look around the unfamiliar room. Unfortunately he could only make out the general shape of anything further than a few feet away. It didn’t help that everything looked an absolute mess from what he could discern.

Where was his monocle?

He tried closing his right eye, his bad eye, but the improvement was almost negligible.

He called on his shadow, sucking in a sharp breath when he realized he couldn’t sense it. He immediately tried his other powers but nothing happened. His chest tightened and it took more effort than he would have liked to try to remain calm.

What the fuck had Adam done to him?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin alastor #kid!alastor #the radio demon #age regression #Alastor pov #sneak peek #the signal that beckons #my fics

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foreverfangirlsblog · 1 year ago

Text

Intentions (Husk x Reader)

Summary:

What happens when the reader has to sit on Husks lap during their car ride home after a night out a several drinks.

Notes:

Word count: 536 Just a short blurb I couldn’t get my mind off of

You and the gang all crammed into the car after a long night out. Charlie of course volunteered to be the designated driver, Vaggie sat in the front with her in the passenger seat. The rest of you all had to file in, 2 to a seat. Cherri sat on Sir Pentious, Niffty sat on Angel, and you sat on Husk.

You slide on top of Husks lap awkwardly. You could immediately feel his member on your ass through his pants. ‘Shit’ you cursed to yourself. You both adjusted yourselfs, you shifted your weight a bit and he moved his leg to be able to close the door.

“Alright let’s hurry up and go” Cherri said irritated as soon as Husk’s door closed.

“Everyone has their seat belts on?” Charlie asked as she looked at everyone in her rearview mirror.

“Are you kidding me?! How are we supposed to-“ Angel started to complain before Vaggie interrupted him with a glare. “Alright alright” he conceded.

After you managed to put on your seat belt, with Husks help, you found yourself much closer to Husk than before. Instead of sitting forward your body was now tightly pressed against his. Your back on his firm and built torso.

“Okay let’s get going”

As Angel and Cherri fought over who gets to pick the music you couldn’t help but focus on something else, or rather someone else’s hand placement. Husk’s left handle was fondling your ribcage, just under your breast. His left hand on the middle of your inner thigh. ‘Stop stop stop, it’s innocent. Where else would he place his hands?’ you thought scolding yourself.

Just then you felt his hands move, no inch upwards. His right hand that was previously on the middle of your inner thigh was now higher, almost under your skirt. You weren’t wearing leggings, it was just the skirt and your underwear, so the feeling of his soft hand on your bare skin was driving you crazy. You tried to distract yourself by touching his left hands with yours, but it just made him fondle you more.

Husk started complaining about the song choice, Cherri put on a Miley Cyrus song. Meanwhile he started playing with the hem on your skirt. ‘How the hell is he acting like nothings happening’ you thought. Surely you aren’t imaging this…..sure you’re drunk, but this has to be a move on his part…right? ‘No I’m just reading into this’ you thought to yourself. ‘He’s just as drunk as I am, it’s nothing’

You tried to relax and join the conversation but notice his hand moving once again, higher up your thigh now under your skirt. You threw your head back and rested it on his shoulder, he took this as a sign to continue and now was fingering the edge of your panties. “What are you doing?” You whispered in his ear.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked in a low sultry voice.

“No” you whispered softly

“Then shh” he said in your ear.

You were conflicted on whether or not you never wanted this car ride to end, or if you wanted to get back to the hotel asap to escalate things further.

#hazbin hotel #husk one shot #husk x reader #husk/reader #hazbin hotel husk #husker hazbin hotel #husker x reader

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fanficsfreeideas · 7 months ago

Text

Crimson Deer

Chapter 19

Unbeknownst to them, Crimson and Moxxie stood silently in the doorway, having overheard everything. Moxxie’s gaze darted nervously between the scene before him and his father beside him. What he saw on his dad’s face stopped him cold. It was unlike anything Moxxie had ever seen from him. His usually stony, gruff demeanor had been replaced by a storm of emotions that seemed entirely foreign to Crimson. Rage simmered just beneath the surface of his expression, a feral glint in his eyes.

But there was more—an undercurrent of sorrow, raw and unguarded, and something so foreign it made Moxxie’s breath hitch: anguish. Crimson’s voice, when it came, was rough, quiet, and deliberate. “Moxxie. What you just heard... you’ll forget about it.” Moxxie blinked, startled. “Dad, I—” He hesitated. “I don’t think that’s something I can forget.”

“I’m ordering you to forget it,” Crimson said, his tone sharp. But the edge wavered ever so slightly, revealing the turmoil underneath. Moxxie’s mouth opened as if to argue, but he stopped himself. A flicker of uncertainty passed through him as he studied his father’s face. For once, there was no hostility in Crimson’s words—just desperation and something frighteningly close to vulnerability. “Yes, sir,” Moxxie murmured at last, his voice subdued. He turned and walked away, his expression conflicted, leaving Crimson alone in the doorway.

Crimson remained standing in the doorway, his gaze locked on Alastor and Niffty. The weight of Alastor’s confession replayed in his mind, the brutal imagery igniting a fire deep within him. His jaw tightened as he pulled out his phone, his fingers moving deliberately across the screen.

"Mammon, I need the file on Niffty. Names of who killed her when she was alive. All of them. I’ll handle the rest. I’ll do ten favors for you."

It was a bold request, but Crimson knew Mammon. Their strange, transactional relationship had spanned over 26 years. Back when Crimson was just a kid, Mammon had started with small demands—sweets, trinkets, petty indulgences. Over time, those requests had grown more elaborate, more twisted, just as Mammon's involvement in Crimson’s life had deepened.

Mammon’s reply came almost immediately, his childish nature clear even through the text. “I get to be the sinfather of every one of your and Cinnamon Roll’s kids. Firstborn gets my name. And I get to show them off. They’ll be my heirs.”

Crimson blinked at the message, his face expressionless despite the sheer ridiculousness of it. After everything he’d seen and done, this should have shocked him, but it didn’t. If anything, it was typical Mammon being Mammon. Crimson sighed, shaking his head with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. Typing back, he replied: “Fine. But the firstborn’s middle name can be Mammon. Only the middle name. And I don’t think you can make half-sinners and imps your heirs, Mammon.”

Mammon’s response was instant, brimming with glee. “Deal. Now get to making me some mini cinnamon rolls. And ‘sour,’ don’t tell a Sin what they can and can’t do. If I say they’re heirs, they’re heirs.”

Crimson couldn’t help the faint chuckle as a smile formed on his lips as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. It wasn’t worth arguing with Mammon—not about something like this. If the King of Greed wanted to entertain his delusions of legacy, Crimson wasn’t going to waste his breath protesting.

His focus shifted back to Alastor and Niffty, a faint flicker of determination in his eyes. Whatever it took, he’d protect them. They were his now, and he wasn’t about to let anyone—or anything—stand in his way.

Mammon lounged back in his throne room, the light bouncing off the glittering piles of gold, jewels, and treasures surrounding him. His grin, wicked as always, stretched wide as he read Crimson’s text. The glow from his phone illuminated his eyes, making them gleam with greed and excitement. He chuckled softly, tapping his foot against the leg of his throne, his anticipation almost palpable.

Beside him, Fizzarolli twirled a set of juggling pins with effortless grace, but the tense look on his face suggested he knew something was coming—and whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good. He glanced at Mammon, whose manic energy was starting to grow. Fizz arched an eyebrow. “What’s got you grinning like that, boss?”

Mammon waved his phone triumphantly, his eyes gleaming with a devilish joy. “Sour-face Crimson’s gonna make me some mini cinnamon rolls with his cinnamon roll maker. All I have to do is get him the file on Stabber’s death. And get this—he’s giving me ten favors for it!” He paused, his grin growing even wider. “Ten, Fizz! That’s gotta be a new record.”

Fizz paused mid-juggle, the juggling pin slipping from his hands and hitting the floor with a loud clatter. His face went pale as he processed Mammon’s words. “Wait… you mean to tell me Crimson’s going to—”

Mammon cut him off, his laughter filling the air. “Damn right! Me! Uncle Mam! Hellfather to the cutest little fawnimps in all of Hell!” His voice dropped into a mocking sing-song as he added, “And Sour-face turn into an immortal—just like his sinner boyfriend.”

Fizz froze, the sight of Mammon’s manic excitement making his stomach churn. His hands shot to his mouth as he whispered, “Crimson’s… seriously going to be doing this?” Mammon leaned forward, practically vibrating with glee. “Hell yeah, he is! And guess who’s gonna teach those mini cinnamon rolls all the best tricks of the trade? Yours truly.” He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Little imps with cinnamon roll DNA? I bet some of them even have antlers like the deer. Can you imagine fizz?”

Fizz couldn’t hide his dread, but he managed to squeeze out a weak chuckle. “Y-yeah, boss. That’s… uh, great news. Really great. all of Greed sure is lucky.” I’m happy for you. His voice cracked, betraying his discomfort.

Mammon, oblivious to the sarcasm, beamed proudly. “Great? No, it’s fantastic! I’m gonna be the best hellfather Hell’s ever seen. And when that first fawnimp pops out? I’m throwing a party like no other! A baby shower, the likes of which Hell has never seen! We’ll invite everyone—well, everyone worth inviting. Not Lucifer, of course. Fuck him.”

He snapped his fingers suddenly, his eyes lighting up with inspiration. “And baby announcements! With themed tiny jester hats and maybe custom gold pacifiers. Oh! Fizz!” Fizz blinked, his nervous thoughts interrupted. “Yeah, boss?”

Mammon grabbed a notebook from a nearby pile of treasure, furiously sketching designs. “Get these to my tailors ASAP,” he demanded, tossing the paper toward Fizz, who barely managed to catch it in time. The sketches were of tiny outfits styled like Mammon’s extravagant wardrobe—everything from gold-embroidered jackets to impractical accessories. Fizz looked down at the paper, trying not to burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity of it. Baby tuxedos? Really, Mammon?

Mammon leaned back in his throne, crossing his legs with an air of satisfaction. “Only the best for my mini cinnamon rolls. And don’t forget the gold bibs. Nothing but top-notch for my heirs.” Fizz sighed and tucked the sketches away, trying to keep his composure. “Got it, boss.”

Mammon continued on with his plans, muttering excitedly about personalized baby blankets, an extra security detail, and his dream of throwing the most elaborate first birthday party Hell had ever seen. “Those fawnimps,” he declared confidently, “are gonna be the best-protected demons in all of Greed. No one messes with what’s mine.”

Fizz watched him in silence, trying to process everything. Mammon’s manic energy was undeniable, but there was something else beneath the surface. For all the bravado and chaos, Mammon’s enthusiasm didn’t seem like a performance. It felt real. Too real. Fizz frowned, voice soft. “Boss… do you actually… care about being a hellfather for those fawnimps?”

Mammon froze mid-sentence, his glowing eyes narrowing at Fizz. The room seemed to grow still as Mammon shifted his posture, his usual cocky grin faltering for a split second. Then, in a low voice, Mammon spoke, his tone unexpectedly serious. “Care? Of course I care! They’re my hell kids.” He leaned forward, his gaze intense. “And when I care about something, Fizzarolli… I make damn sure no one can take it away from me.”

Fizz swallowed hard, his unease growing as the weight of Mammon’s words sank in. Mammon wasn’t just playing some greedy game. He was invested. Mammon clapped his hands suddenly, the moment of vulnerability gone in an instant as he returned to his usual energetic self. “Right! Let’s get this show on the road! I’ve got parties to plan, and—oh! Should I send a gift basket to Sour and Cinnamon Roll? Fizz, remind me to send a gift basket.”

Fizz gave a weak laugh, still processing Mammon’s overwhelming enthusiasm. “Boss, you need to wait for Crimson to—uh—actually, you know, knock Alastor up first.” He hoped that would slow his boss down, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t. Mammon froze, his eyes widening in sudden realization. “Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that part for a second.” He paused, his grin returning with a mischievous gleam. “You know, Fizz, it cracks me up how you imps can impregnate sinners. I’m the only Sin who figured it out. And you all think I don’t know how you do it.”

Fizz’s eyes widened, his mind racing to shut down whatever Mammon was about to say. But Mammon was already on a roll, the excitement evident in his voice. “Pleasing them ‘til you just have to ask them to have your kids… Truly amazing. And the sinners end up so content they only want to please their lover. Meanwhile, the imp turns immortal, always with their sinner lover forever. It's kind of beautiful, really but creepy with the stepford wife after effect on the sinners.” Mammon sighed, clearly lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to his plans.

“Well, no matter! Let’s talk about matching family outfits, Fizz!” He clapped his hands excitedly. “A whole damn matching family collection! Little fawnimps along with Niffty dressed just like me, with Alastor looking all cute. And don’t forget the mini version of Sour’s dour suit for laughs. We’ll have family pictures! I want them walking around Hell showing everyone who’s got the cutest, most fashionable Hellkids.”

Fizz blinked, trying to process everything at once. “Boss, don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself? Crimson hasn’t even... uh... started the process yet.” Mammon’s grin faltered for just a second before bouncing back with renewed vigor. “Details, details! By tomorrow, Crimson will have impregnated Alastor. Fizz, I told you, I know everything.” He shot Fizz a pointed glare, as if daring him to question it.

Fizz rubbed his temple, barely able to keep up with the whirlwind of Mammon’s plans. He couldn’t believe that the one Sin who wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed had figured out this secret better than anyone else. Mammon leaned forward, his grin sharpening into something dangerous, his voice dropping low. “It will go my way, Fizz. You know why? Because it’s me. The King of Greed. Everything I touch turns into pure, golden opportunity. If there’s a snag? I’ll smooth it out. No one gets in my way.” His eyes narrowed. “Fizz, don’t forget my rule about imps dating sinners.” Fizz sighed, the exhaustion seeping in. “Don’t date ugly ones, because you don’t want to see ugly half imps running around your ring…”

Mammon’s laughter erupted in the throne room, rich and full of delight. Fizz, however, was too tired to join in. As he turned to leave, Mammon’s voice called out after him, unrelenting in his demands. “Fizz! Write this down: I need matching shoes for the mini cinnamon rolls! They can’t be running around barefoot like peasants!” Fizz groaned inwardly, glancing down at the absurd sketches still clutched in his hands. “Matching shoes, matching clothes, gold pacifiers, family pictures… Hell, what’s next? A full-blown parade? A family statue?”

Mammon’s booming voice came from behind him, enthusiastic as ever. “Fizz! That’s genius! Write that down too!” Fizz’s pace quickened, but not fast enough to escape the whirlwind of Mammon’s constant demands. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll write it down. This is my life now,” he muttered under his breath. As Mammon’s laughter echoed from behind, Fizz couldn’t help but shake his head in resignation. Whatever this was, it was clear that Mammon was all in. His enthusiasm was genuine, and that fact alone scared Fizz more than anything else.

The last thing Fizz wanted was Mammon getting involved in his own love life someday—he wasn’t sure if he’d survive the over-the-top, chaotic plans his boss would inevitably create for him. But for now, Fizz had a job to do. And it involved a lot of ridiculous sketches, absurd baby clothes, and fulfilling whatever other wild ideas Mammon could come up with. Before Fizz could even step outside, he received a text from Mammon. It demanded that he find out if Niffty had a Hellfather; if not, Mammon was claiming it for himself. Fizz couldn't contain his frustration and let out a loud scream of "FUCK!"

Crimson knocked softly on the wall, his voice carrying an unfamiliar gentleness. “I’m home, deer,” he said, stepping into the room. “I’m sorry for what happened. But I heard Mammon —” Before he could finish, Alastor gently moved Niffty aside and surged forward, throwing himself into Crimson’s arms. The sudden embrace caught Crimson off guard, but he recovered quickly. Wrapping his arms around Alastor, he held him tightly, feeling the weight of Alastor’s sorrow pressing against him. Alastor buried his face in the crook of his neck, seeking solace in the warmth of his touch.

“I’m here,” Crimson murmured, his voice low and soothing. He could feel the tension in Alastor’s body, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he held him even closer, offering the only comfort he knew how. His large, steady hands caressed Alastor’s back, grounding him, keeping him present. Loona, who had pick up the sleeping Niffty, paused at the tender sight before her. Her eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at her lips. She hadn’t seen Crimson like this before. She always knew him as the gruff, no-nonsense figure, a being who never let anyone close enough to see the cracks in his hardened demeanor.

But now, as she observed him with Alastor, she saw something different—a side of Crimson she never thought would emerge. The care he had for Alastor, the gentle way he held him, was something she hadn't expected. Loona exhaled softly and turned to leave, not wanting to intrude. “Come on, Niffty,” she whispered to the still-sleeping sinner child in her arms. “Let’s head to Crimson place for now.” Crimson gave her a faint, silent nod of thanks, his attention never straying from Alastor. Loona stepped quietly out of the room, glancing back over her shoulder once, a small shake of her head at the unexpected softness she had witnessed. To her, it was a reminder that there was far more to Crimson than met the eye.

When the room was empty, and only the two of them remained, Crimson rested his chin lightly against Alastor’s head. The weight of Alastor’s body pressed against him, but Crimson didn’t mind. He welcomed it. He would carry the weight of the world if it meant keeping Alastor safe—if it meant keeping his family safe. “I’ve got you,” Crimson murmured, his voice steady but laced with a quiet intensity. His heart was heavy with the knowledge he had learn today. His grip tightened around Alastor, a silent promise in the action. A promise that no one would take him away, no one would touch what was his. If anyone dared to harm Alastor, to pull him from Crimson’s side, they would feel the full extent of his wrath. He would make sure of it.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #crimsondeer #helluva boss crimson #hellava boss

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vaggietheangel · 2 years ago

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Chaggie week day six:Party at the hotel 🎂🎉

Vaggie was busy rushing around the hotel. Everything needed to be perfect for when she got back! She and Angel would be back from her spa trip any munite now.

Vaggie walked up to Alastor in the kitchen. "How's the food coming along?" She asked the radio demon.

"The princess's dinner is finished, I'm just preparing some treats now." Alastor spoke in a chipper tone. As he was heating the creme brúlee.

"Wait- we agreed on cupcakes. Charlie's a sweet tooth she wants chocolate cupcakes!" Vaggie rubbed the side of her temples.

Vaggie took a deep breath in. "Whatever, as long as you promise that's steak and not some poor bastard you found on the street." Vaggie walked off.

She turned to Husk. "How are the games coming along?" She asked with a smile. It lifted her mood to see that someone was making an effort.

"Good, got some poker set up. The pricness is almost as good as the fellas I play with." Husk spoke as he lit a cigar.

She heard the sound of music full of swearing blaring outside. Angel and Charlie were back! Vaggie rushed to her room at the speed of Niffty to grab Charlie's present.

As soon as Charlie entered the hotel, she gasped at the party decorations she saw before her.

"Oh my gosh! This is AMAZING!" The blonde squealed. She wrapped her arms around her girlfriend. Nuzzling thier noses together.

"What's that?" Charlie asked as she pointed to the box in Vaggie's hand.

Charlie took the gift box from her girlfriends hand and shook it.

"No! Be gentle." Vaggie covered her mouth with her hand's.

Charlie raised an eyebrow and lifted the lid from the box. She let out a high-pitched squeale as she saw the little puppy sitting inside.

"Oh my goodness, hi baby! Oh, you're such a cutie! Oh, what a little sweetie!" She spoke in a baby voice as she picked up the pup and let him lick her face.

"Vaggie, thank you so much! He's just the sweetest little doggo I've ever seen!" The princess spoke with a sparkel in her eye's.

"Your welcome, hon. I think Benjamin likes you." Vaggie chuckled.

"Awwwww i like you too, Benjamin!" Charlie cooed as the puppy licked her nose.

"The fuck kinda name is that for a dog?" Husk grumbled.

"Well, that's the name he was given at the animal shelter. You can change it if you want Charlie." Vaggie suggested.

"I think Benjamin suits this little gentleman very well!" Charlie cuddled the puppy close to her.

"Alright, enough of the cutsey shit. Where's the booze?" Angel teased as he walked past the two love birds. Joining Husk at the bar and immediately flirting with him.

Vaggie rolled her eye at Angle's typical behaviour. "We have some games you might like." Vaggie spoke as she walked over to the poker table with her girlfriend.

Somehow, Charlie managed to win every game that Husk wasn't playing in. Which caused Angel to go red in the face with anger. He was ridiculously competitive.

Benjamin crawled on the table and walked across to Angel. He nibbled on the cards which caused the spider man to giggle.

"Awwww, you're such a lil tiny boy." He spoke as he picked up the puppy.

Husk watched as the puppy licked his boyfriend's face. "Yeah, I'm not kissing you until you take a bath."

"Yay! I won again!" Charlie cheered.

"I think it's time we celebrate your victory with some cupcakes." Vaggie suggested.

"I think you mean creme brúlee my dear." Alastor spoke as he set his cards down.

"No, I knew you'd do something stupid. So I got Niffty to bake some cupcakes last night." Vaggie smirked as she opened the box of rainbow cupcakes.

"They're so pretty, Vaggie! Not as pretty as you, but they're really nice." Charlie giggled.

She looked her girlfriend deep into her one eye. "Thank you sweetheart, today has been a lot of fun."

Vaggie leaned in for a little peck on the lips. "Solo lo mejor para mi princesa".

#Vaggie #hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #Charlie Morningstar #Charlie hazbin hotel #chaggie #chaggie week #chaggie week 2023 #husk #Angel dust #Alastor #Niffty

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aquarius-stories-and-story-ideas · 5 years ago

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(Got this short story idea from @radiodemonstatic. On their blog, Alastor is going through a sort of 'season'. To put it simply, he's wanting to get it on (I was so tempted to word that differently. 😂). Before anyone asks, Charlie and Vaggie aren't together in this short story. This is a Vaggie x Alastor story and I don't want Vaggie cheating on Charlie. Our little muffin princess is too sweet to be cheated on.

Also, this takes place in an au I've created. To sum it up, it doesn't take place in hell and all that. Everyone is still a criminal and everything. They're still alive and in a pocket dimension called Infernis. Everyone is technically called a dark mystic, but people also call them demons because of how despicable they are. Other than that almost everything else stays the same.

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I hope everyone enjoys this little short story.)

Vaggie sighed in boredom as she scrolled through social media on her phone. There wasn't much to do today. Then again, there wasn't much to do around the Happy Hotel, to begin with since Angel is the only guest.

So, here she was. Sitting at the stupid bar with Husk, who was drinking as usual. While she still hated the fact that alcohol was in the hotel, she let it be. Besides, Charlie seemed to think it was a great idea.

When she got to a post featuring an imp she stopped and looked at it. It was another post from that guy who owned some hit-man business. She couldn't remember what the name of his business was right now. But, he always would gush about his adopted daughter and how wonderful his employees are. If it weren't for the fact that he operated such a gross business, she'd think he was sweet.

As she continued to surf the web she noticed Charlie plop down on the seat next to her. She drummed her fingers on her thigh nervously and glanced at the moth-like girl every so often. After a bit, Vaggie spoke up. "Spill. What's bothering you."

With that said the princess turned to face her and immediately spilled what was on her mind. "It's Alastor! He's been acting super weird lately. I tried talking to him, but he won't budge. He's been getting pale, his radio static has been increasing, and his antlers are growing! If it were just his antlers I wouldn't think something was wrong. But, I know there is! Not to mention he's been avoiding us and hasn't been eating. That's not like him at all! Everyone knows he's a foodie. I think he's sick!"

Vaggie looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Alastor get sick? I suppose that's a possibility. But, are you sure it's that? He could be going through a rough patch in his work or something. I've noticed his antlers sometimes grow when he gets angry. Maybe one of his deals backfired on him and he's pissy about it."

Charlie shook her head. "No. It's not that. If it was that he wouldn't be acting this way. Dad once told me he's seen deals backfire on deal makers before. They tend to go ballistic or something along those lines. I don't think he'd act this way if that happened to him. Maybe you could try talking to him."

This caused her to blink in surprise. "Me? Why ask me to talk to that shit lord? Whatever is bothering him is none of our business. If he doesn't want to talk about it then we shouldn't bother him. Besides, if anyone should talk to him it's Niffty and Husk."

"Like hell, I would. Same goes for Niffty." Said Husk. "I'd leave him alone if I were you."

"But, what if something is wrong with him." Countered Charlie. "We're his friends and he's a member of the Happy Hotel. We must help him if he's suffering." She turned back to Vaggie. "Maybe you can get him to tell you what's wrong with him." She gave her puppy dog eyes. "Talk to him. Pretty please with sugar on top."

Said girl stared at her before sighing heavily. "Fine. I'll talk to the ass-hole. Don't expect me to get far, though."

Charlie beamed. "Great!" She grabbed Vaggie, pulling her out of her seat, and began pushing her towards the stairs. "What are you waiting for? Get going!"

"Wait! You want me to talk to him now?!"

"Of course. The sooner, the better."

Taking into consideration Charlie's stubborn attitude, Vaggie knew it was pointless to protest and put her phone away. "Alright. Alright. I'll talk to him. Just don't expect me to find out what's going on."

With that said Charlie stopped pushing her and Vaggie trotted up the stairs to find Alastor. Honesty, why was Charlie so insistent on finding out what was wrong with him? He didn't want to talk about it. It seems this was one of the times the princess was sticking her nose in something she didn't need to.

But, honestly, Vaggie was worried about him too. She would never admit it, but she was. Just like she would never admit she fancied him as well. It was rare a boy caught her eye. So, it was always a big deal to her if one did.

She crossed her arms as her thoughts went to the Radio Demon. From the moment she saw him and the way he spoke to her as she pointed her spear at him she knew there was something about him. While she didn't appreciate him pushing her around like a rag doll and smacking her bottom, she still found herself drawn to him and wanted him to notice her.

Vaggie stopped and let out a humorless laugh. The chances of him noticing her were well below zero. He was a powerful overlord and she was a nobody who happens to be best friends with the crowned princess. Not to mention he's made it painfully obvious he could care less about her. Their first meeting was a prime example. There was no way-

A harsh sneeze nearby broke her out of her thoughts and made her jump. That caught her completely off guard. Not to mention she thought she was alone. Who was that?

She peeked around the corner to see a familiar red-clad man turn the corner on the other side of the hallway. There was no mistaking it. It was Alastor. Without waiting another second Vaggie scurried down the hallway and turned to catch up with Alastor.

However, he was nowhere to be found. He wasn't even in the hallway behind her. If he was walking, then he wouldn't have made his way down the hallway that fast. If he ran then she would've heard him.

"Shit lord must've teleported." She muttered to herself. "He makes everything difficult, doesn't he?"

As she turned around she was met with the sight of Alastor’s shadow on the wall. It was staring at her as if it was trying to read her soul. She nervously fidgeted under its piercing gaze. After a moment she decided to try to speak to it. "Um. You wouldn't happen to know where Alastor is and what's bothering him, would you?"

All the shadow did was stare at her for a few more seconds before disappearing. Vaggie sighed. Figures. Now she had to go back to hunting him down. With how big the hotel was, it was going to be a challenge. But, how hard was it going to be to find the Radio Demon? After all, he was hard to miss. It shouldn't be too much of a hassle to find him, right?

Wrong! Oh so wrong. Vaggie scoured the hotel bottom to top and there was no sign of him! The moth-like girl was covered in a thin layer of sweat and fuming. She's spent all late afternoon and early evening looking for him with no luck. She was beginning to wonder if he was in the hotel in the first place.

With nowhere else to look she made her way back to the first floor, determined to find out where he was. As she passed by the library she noticed the light was on. Huh. The only person who would be in there at this late hour was Charlie. Might as well tell her she couldn't find Alastor.

She opened the door and began speaking. "Hey, Charlie. I couldn't find Alastor. I don't think he's-"

She stopped herself when she saw that it wasn't Charlie occupying the room. What she saw took her by surprise. There, laying on the couch asleep with an open book on his chest, was Alastor.

This was something Vaggie thought she would never see. The Radio Demon sleeping. While she knew he had to sleep, she never thought she would see him in such a vulnerable state. Let alone be in the same room as him when that happened.

Deciding to push her luck, she quietly walked up to him. His head rested on the armrest, probably so his antlers wouldn't poke the couch, and the radio static that usually sounded around him was almost muted.

He looked so beautiful and peaceful as he slept. A light blush formed on her cheeks as she admired him. To see him in such a beautiful and vulnerable state was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If she didn't think it would wake him up, she would've snapped a picture of him with her phone.

Lightly shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she focused on her original task. Finding out what was wrong with him. She didn't want to wake him up, so she decided to see if he was running a fever. He did look pale. So, might as well see if Charlie was right thinking he's sick.

As carefully as she could be, she gently placed the back of her hand on his forehead. Upon feeling his temperature she removed her hand and her eyebrows scrunched up in concern.

"He's burning up." She muttered to herself. "Charlie was right."

Well, she couldn't just leave him there knowing he was running a fever. If he wouldn't take care of himself then she would! First things first, get him more comfortable.

She carefully picked up the book that was laying on him and placed it on a small table that was next to the couch. With that done she gently lifted his head and placed a pillow she had found on a chair under his head. She even took off his monocle and placed it in the breast pocket of his jacket. Now that he looked more comfortable, it was time she brought his fever down.

The moth-like girl scurried out of the library and all but ran into the kitchen, almost running into Angel Dust in the process. She immediately grabbed a bowl, threw some ice in it, and began filling it with cold water.

As she waited for the bowl to fill up Angel walked up to her. "What's got you in a tizzy? Did something happen?"

Her eye twitched in annoyance. "It's nothing for you to worry about. I've got everything covered."

"Does it have to do with Smiles? Charlie said you were looking for him. Come on, spill. What's up?"

All Vaggie did was huff as she shut off the water. "I've already told you it's none of your concern."

With the bowl of ice water ready she grabbed a tray and placed it on it. After that she snagged two clean washcloths they kept in the kitchen. One to use to bring down the fever and the other just in case she needed it.

After a brief moment of thinking, she snagged a glass, dropped some ice cubes in it, and filled it with the water they had in the water filter. She even put a straw in it. As she worked Angel watched her with a raised eyebrow. "Is he sick?"

When Vaggie didn't say anything a knowing smile broke out on his face. "He is, isn't he? I can help out too. Give me a few minutes to squeeze into my nurses uniform. He'll be feeling better in no time with me around."

Angel jumped when Vaggie slammed the glass of ice water onto the tray. She gave him a stern look and marched right up to him. "Listen to me. The last thing Alastor needs is you bugging him. All you're going to do is stress him out and that's one of the last things he needs right now. What he needs is proper love, care, and attention. Peace and quiet is something he desperately needs as well. So, shut up, leave him alone, and let me take care of him."

Angel listened to her and raised an eyebrow while smirking. "Proper love?"

Vaggies eyes widened in shock and her face turned bright red. Shit! She didn't even realize she said that! She almost sputtered something but decided against it. She grabbed the tray with a huff and pushed past him. Before she exited the kitchen she glanced at him. "I mean it, Angel. Stay away from him right now and let me take care of him."

Before he could respond Vaggie left. She quickly made her way back to the library and quieted her steps as to not wake him. She placed the tray on the table and looked at him. His fever wasn't going to go down all the way if he had on all those layers.

As carefully as she could, she began unbuttoning his suit jacket. As she did that her eyes were trained on his beautiful face. When that was done she unbuttoned his waistcoat. When he stirred for a moment she froze. Upon him settling back down, she finished undoing the last buttons. She decided to leave his dress shirt and bowtie alone so he wouldn't think she was trying to take advantage of him. Covering him with a blanket crossed her mind, but all that would do is make him warm and more heat was the last thing he needed.

She spread out his jacket and waistcoat so more heat could escape. With that done, she took one of the washcloths and dipped it in the ice water bowl. After squeezing out the excess water she folded it and gently placed it on his forehead. While Alastor stirred once again, he didn't wake up.

Vaggie took her chances and gently placed a hand on his soft red locks. His hair was so soft and silky. The feeling made her smile. "Don't worry, hun." She softly said. "I'm here now and I'm going to take care of you. You have nothing to worry about."

She blinked in surprise when he leaned into her touch. Alastor, a man who despises being touched, was actually leaning into hers in his sleep! A blush formed on her cheeks and she smiled a bit more. The feeling of butterflies formed in her stomach. She was so glad it was just the two of them in the room.

As gently, and carefully, as she could she placed a light kiss on his cheek. While her lips barely touched his hot skin, she still watched him in case she unintentionally woke him up. When he didn't she grinned as her blush increased.

After a moment she pulled her hand away and snagged the book he was reading. With nothing else to do right now, she might as well read to pass the time. She'd check on him in a few minutes.

After a short while, Vaggie got up and felt of his washcloth. It was already warm. She gently took it off and re-wet it. As she squeezed the extra water out and placed it back on his forehead Alastors eyes fluttered open. He shifted a bit before his sights fell on her. "Vaggie? What are you doing?"

She gave him a soft smile. "I'm bringing your fever down. Don't worry, I'm right here. You just lay there and relax."

He blinked owlishly at her before sitting up and taking off the washcloth. "As much as I appreciate your concern, I can assure you I'm fine. I'm not sick if that's what you were thinking."

Before he could make a move to stand up Vaggie popped in front of him. A stern look was on her face. "Oh, no you don't. You lay right back down and let me tend to you. You're burning up and need to rest."

He reached up to adjust his monocle. "Darling, I assure you I'm-"

He cut himself off when he didn't feel it. Blinking in surprise, he looked down at himself to see his jacket and waistcoat undone and his monocle in the breast pocket of his jacket. A tinge of red spread across his face and his grip on the couch tightened. "Vaggie. Mind explaining to me why I'm half-dressed?"

"I unbuttoned them so more heat could escape. Your fever isn't going to come down if you have on that many layers."

His smile tightened and his grip on the couch grew. His voice was strained as he spoke. "I would appreciate it if you left. I don't want to be around anyone right now."

She gave him a look that clearly said she wouldn't. "Alastor, I'm not going to leave you. Stop being stupid and stubborn and let me help you. You're sick and it's obvious you're not going to take care of yourself. So, I'm going to do that for you."

She leaned in and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Now, please lay back-"

She was cut off when Alastor suddenly grabbed her. Before she knew it, he slammed her onto the couch and got on his hands and knees above her. He pinned her hands down above her head and his smile was reaching its limits. Even his radio static increased.

She was about to say something when she saw the look on his face. It was predatory. He was looking at her as if she was prey. This caused her to shut up and break out in a cold sweat as fear coursed through her.

He let go of one of her hands and gently ran his now free hand down her cheek. "My dear Vaggie, how beautiful you look." He then grabbed her face. "How divine you smell as well."

Vaggie said nothing and stayed perfectly still as she stared up at him with panic-filled eyes. As he leaned in closer to her, she thought he was going to eat her. But, as he got closer it looked like he was going to kiss her instead.

Her entire face turned bright red and her heart started pounding. He was going to kiss her. Alastor, the Radio Demon and the man she fancied, was going to kiss her!

However, right before his lips touched hers he pulled away. He avoided eye contact as he got off of her. He picked up the wet washcloth that had fallen onto the floor and placed it on the tray. As he spoke he kept his back to her. "I can assure you I'm not sick, my dear. For your safety, and everyone else's, please leave me alone."

With that said Alastor left the library. After a moment Vaggie sat up and stared at the closed doors. Her face was still red and her heart continued to pound. What just happened? Not only did he almost kiss her, but the way he was acting wasn't like him at all. What in blue blazes was going on with him?

#hazbin hotel #vaggastor #vaggie x alastor #short story #if anyone wants to make fan art of this they can #a comic is good too #just tag me on it please #I had a lot of fun writing this #especially the fluffy/mushy parts #I love fluff

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midnight-hotel · 5 years ago

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Scenario of how would Alastor react to his crush singing Tape Five - Bad Boy Good Man? (I really like this song!) Like, they're happily singing and stop immediately when they saw Alastor just watching them. Is it ok? Good luck on your new blog :3

A maid of the Happy Hotel, that is all you really were around these parts. You weren’t anyone special, not very powerful and hardly worth a second glance. You were attractive, no doubt about that, but so were a lot of others down in hell, so it hardly made you different from anyone else walking down the street. It was with this knowledge that you found comfort in being able to roam around Hell without too much trouble. There was no reason for any demon to go out of their way to give you trouble- most of the time. The most attention you received these days was within the Happy Hotel, better known around hell as the Hazbin Hotel. A cruel name, started by the Radio Demon himself, but continued on by the citizens of hell, even after he changed the sign back to how it was supposed to be.

As a maid, you were busy almost every day, cleaning up messes made by the few patrons the hotel now had, or simply dusting rooms that weren’t currently in use. It was a drag doing the same thing every day, but at the same time, you found an odd sense of peace in the routine you had developed. You would hook your small speaker to your belt and connect your phone to the device to listen to music as you worked. People like Husk and Angel complained every now and then at first, but as you refused to stop, everyone came to accept that they’ll be bound to hear some music whenever you were nearby. It was a fantastic way to locating you within the hotel, that’s for sure. An excellent cover to sneak up on you too, many getting away with scaring the life out of you whenever you’re cleaning. Well- scare the hell out of you maybe? Life and hell both don’t sound right but you get the idea.

A soft cough rattled your chest as you inhaled some dust, lowering your head to prevent yourself from inhaling anymore too easily. You allowed yourself to cough a few times, trying to clear your throat of the unfortunate irritation and momentarily blocking your hearing off from the music coming from the speaker resting on your hip. Your lungs ached for a moment as you let out a slightly harsher cough, before you righted yourself and took in a breath to make up for what you had lost during your little fit.

“Damn old hotel. There’s too much dust- too much to clean- probably gonna give me some weird ass condition or disease,” you huffed, pressing the back of your hand to your lips to cover another short cough.

It was as you finally gained some kind of relief from the uncomfortable sensation in your throat, that you focused back on your music, the song you had previously been humming, slowly came to an end. The soft melody towards the end stopped bouncing off the walls of the hotel room you were cleaning before the room itself was filled with nothing but your soft breaths, unsteady from your moment of wheeziness. It was in that silence, as you stood straight and raised your duster once more, that the next song on your shuffled playlist came on, a familiar tune filled the air that sent a rush of excitement through your veins. You liked- no- you loved this song. This song never failed to bring a smile to your face and a swing to your hips. You could never sit still when the beat met your ears, simply ordering you to cave and bend to its will.

You dropped a hand down to the little speaker attached to your belt and turned it right up, the music bouncing off the walls before the first verse pelted from the small device. At first, you simply swayed your hips as you hummed along, continuing to work away, dusting off the bedside tables and the curtains before putting your duster away and pulling the sheets off the bed so you could replace them. You were expecting a guest in this room soon apparently. Couldn’t have them sleeping on a bed covered in dust and who knows what else. You’re pretty sure you saw Angel come into this room at some stage for whatever reason so you were sure not even Lucifer wanted to know what could be on those sheets.

Old sheets thrown out into the hallway, in your trolly, and new ones sitting on the chest that was stationed down at the end of the bed, a plush cushion protecting its wooden surface from any threats to it’s shiny finish. You grabbed the fitted sheet and began to make the bed, the lyrics beginning to spill from your lips.

“Bebop sliding down my back, never alone when I hit the sack. Swings a thing with a ringa-ding-ding, I get wings when I sing – Ragtime reason and rhyme, I’m the reason you’re divine. Rhumba mambo Latin samba.” You knew the lyrics like the back of your hand, not needing to pay attention to the singer, just the tune itself. “I’m a bad boy…” you would continue to sing, sliding the remaining corner of the sheet over the mattress before spinning back over to the pile of bedding left on the chest, picking up the next sheet to set it on the mattress.

With your attention so lost in the music, the lyrics and your movements, of course you didn’t notice the tall figure standing in the doorway, watching your every move like a predator watching its prey. He had been with Charlie, discussing ideas for the hotel while sipping at some coffee in the kitchen. His red eyes were focused on the blonde sitting across from him, who was happily explaining one of her bright ideas to him and clearly subconsciously tapping her fingers against the tabletop. At first it was completely mindless, just tapping, but once he had started talking, his sharp ears caught onto a pattern in the tapping that had suddenly appeared. At first, he figured she had some sort of song stuck in her head, maybe one she had come up with herself, but then he heard the music.

His ears perked up at the music that had suddenly become louder, clearly coming from upstairs. It was swing, he recognised it instantly, but the song itself was foreign to him. It wasn’t surprising he didn’t recognise it; he did die a very long time ago. He knew exactly who was playing it too. It had to have been you. You were the only one who paraded around with your music playing aloud.

“Do excuse me my dear, I have just remembered there is something I must do,” he excused himself from Charlie, finishing the last mouthful of his coffee before standing and leaving the kitchen. He rounded the corner and then vanished into the shadows, reappearing upstairs to find not only the music, but now your lovely voice that had suddenly joined the tune coming from the device usually attached to your hip. And now here he was, standing in the doorway of an unused hotel room, watching as you swayed your hips from side to side and sung along to the song, he could only raise a brow at. An interesting choice of music indeed, but catchy, nonetheless.

You twirled around, giggling softly to yourself as you reached out and grabbed a pillowcase to snuggly wrap around one of the plush pillows. Watching as your skirt flared out around you as you spun and listening to that innocent giggle, Alastor hadn’t realised that his usually intimidating smile had softened, his cold hard warming- all because of you. The demon was besotted with you, completely and utterly so and it was such an unfamiliar feeling to the overlord that he didn’t now what to do with that feeling. Millions of demons overpopulated the depts of hell and no one but you managed to make his heart do things it rarely did even when he was alive. Had he ever felt this way in the past? Was there a southern bell in his past that made his heart swell with warmth and adoration like you have since meeting mere months ago? No- he doubted it, because this feeling was far too foreign to him. Foreign, but not completely unknown.

Lost in his own thoughts, just like you were lost in your own little world, he didn’t notice you turn around to grab something from your trolley, finally noticing him and letting out a squeal of surprise and embarrassment. Just how long had he been standing there? He snapped to attention- though to you it just looked as if your reaction made his smile widen.

“Alastor, don’t sneak up on me like that,” you scolded, turning your music down, the song coming to an end as you did. You took in a deep breath, brushing down your skirt before gazing back up at him, figuring he had a reason for suddenly appearing before you. You could only hope he had only just arrived and hadn’t seen you singing and dancing for more than a couple seconds.

“My apologies darling, but I couldn’t help but become curious over the stunning voice coming from upstairs,” Alastor claimed in his usual charming way, of course smiling down at you as he always did. “To find it was you singing though, my dear- you’re quite the canary if I do say so myself!”

You flushed lightly at his compliment, embarrassed at the confirmation that he had indeed heard her singing, but flattered all the same.

“Thank you, Al, that’s very kind of you to say,” you thanked him, biting your lip lightly and looking down at the floor for a moment. Has the carpet always been this stained? This would surely drive Niffty insane.

“I was going to ask if you would happen to be free for a dance, though unfortunately, that sing you had there has unfortunately come to an end,” he hummed, faking disappointment, but there was no way he didn’t have something up his sleeve.

“If it’s all the same to you however, darling, perhaps we could settle for another song instead.” Offering a gloved hand to you, swing music played seemed to play out of nowhere and your own quite music was now nowhere to be heard. Letting out a soft laugh, and brushing yourself down one more time, you accepted his hand, being pulled in close almost instantly.

“I suppose I could spare the time for a dance.”

#bad boy good man #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader

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