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SINNERS STARTED CALLING HIM …

– ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ

a cacophony of Hellish sounds ( would you like to add your own to the mix ? ), a soul who knows how to take charge of his own fate – an independent, semi-selective, 18+ role-play blog for Alastor from Hazbin Hotel. penned with love by GB !

carrd

promo created by @/arachnaemboss !!

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moved to @hellhosted !

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moved to @hellhosted !

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moved to @hellhosted !

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moved to @hellhosted !

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SINNERS STARTED CALLING HIM …

– ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ

a cacophony of Hellish sounds ( would you like to add your own to the mix ? ), a soul who knows how to take charge of his own fate – an independent, semi-selective, 18+ role-play blog for Alastor from Hazbin Hotel. penned with love by GB !

carrd

promo created by @/arachnaemboss !!

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I made a post, it told me it couldn't post it, so then I made a different post, and it just put through the post I made 20 minutes ago that it said wouldn't go through

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I lied about seeing you there they exploded me again

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MOVED to @hellhosted !!

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[ officially remaking soon. nabbed a new url—will update when I'm done fixing it up !! ]

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[ my plan is to come back after Christmas bc i plan on getting a new laptop, my old one is broken and it was making rp difficult. if people are still interested great and if ur not thats so okay too ]

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at least if i'm not productive writing i can be productive with art

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— Alastor will be attending Ozzie's Haunted Bash, donning a bloody chef outfit. He'll be carrying around a platter with a dome covering it for the duration of the evening — careful, you might not like what you find upon lifting the lid ! He's matching with Niffty ( @gctchell ), who will be his Zombie waitress !

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❝ . . . ❞

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It's likely not what most would be thinking of in a moment like this but Alastor had never claimed to be an ordinary experience – his mind wanders to how strange a sensation it is to kiss a face so flat. He'd always been something on the side of fascinated by Vox; it was his odd look that had drawn him toward him in the first place, that bulky television set he'd donned in place of a head so terribly bizarre. Amongst all these sinners, he'd yet to meet another like him.

He may not look the same these days but he was not any less peculiar. Alastor had, admittedly, always wanted to know how he worked – to see his insides, pull him apart piece by piece, see what was organic, what was not. What made a picture box tick ? Did they each share a heart, or would there be none to find ?

Alas, it would be such a shame to break his favorite toy. So, this would do. Exploration by mouth was interesting enough. Corporeal lips to bite and pull blood from, a tongue, teeth . . .

He pants into the minimal space between their faces as they briefly separate, lips curling into a teeth-bared grin at the way his name is breathed from Vox's barely parted lips.

The desperation is . . . something. Cute certainly isn't the word for it. Flattering ? Pathetic ? A pitchy noise of surprise catches in his throat as claws find themselves embedded in his hips, wrenching himself from Vox's mouth to lave a tongue at his throat.

Where he meanly bites down until he tastes the copper tang of blood filling his mouth.

The dry mockery is met with a little scoff, a distracted and dismissive sound. Under different circumstances, that sort of jab would have started a round of bickering, with Vox pointing out how Alastor's jokes and humour in general are even shittier than his most of the time. It's just who they are, how they normally ate with each other. Nothing is given up without a fight between them.

However, there's nothing normal about what's happening right now. The Radio Demon could have insulted him in any way, stuck his claws into any of his metaphorical wounds as deep as they can go, and he would have hardly noticed. Nothing of what came out of his rival's mouth can matter more than his current actions.

The way he's adjusting his body to allow Vox closer. Those hands holding his screen, without malice or ill intentions. How their frequencies mix, tuning in on each other, intertwining as if they were meant to belong on the same wavelength. The teasing tickling of electricity causing playful shivers to run along his limbs.

How can his drunk mind fear rejection when he's being so eagerly welcomed in?

Oh, my silly little picture box.

The Media Demon finds himself smirking more wildly at the admonition, barely holding back a chuckle at the pet name. He's so much more than a "walking picture box" nowadays, but on one thing the other Overlord is right, even if Vox would sooner gut himself with angelic steel than admit it.

He is Alastor's, whether he likes it or not, whether his rival wants him or not. He has been for years, and it has never changed. It's as set in stone as their eternal damnation.

Each and every of his thoughts glitches and freezes, scrambled by the tidal wave of static that crashes into them when their mouths meet once more. His fans whirl faster, electricity rushes more quickly along his cables, and all that's left is the Radio Demon. His touch, his taste, his warmth. The thrumming of his electromagnetic waves.

In the blink of an eye, Vox is lost, and j honestly wishes to never be found again, if it means that they can stay there, like this, forevermore.

"...Oh, ҉A҉҉L҉҉A҉҉S҉҉T҉҉O҉҉R҉," he mumbles without even realising it, the moment the break away, just barely, to catch a breath.

Had he been in a sounder mind, he would have been grateful for how his lips seek out his rival's immediately after, preventing him from saying more, from voicing things he would have regretted dearly. Maybe he will be, later. For now, he just dives back into the hungry kiss, shamelessly desperate, hands squeezing the other's hips as he presses their bodies as close as they can physically get.

Even in his intoxicated state, he knows better than to get too excited, even if the sight of those antlers stretching out and the distortion of that voice have ignited a little spark in his guts. A guy can dream, can't he? And he is definitely going to have plenty of dreams and day dreams about this for weeks to no end.

The temptation to say something is strong, but he holds it back. Alastor is so sure he has this in the bag and he's hellbent on proving him wrong. So he'll do what he said, keep kissing and tasting him over and over, until the Radio Demon forces them to separate. Or, at least, tries to.

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[ ♡ this for a small very Itty bitty tiny starter ]

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regrets regrets regrets