#Radio Killer {Vox}

[seven-circlllxs]

Into the Pit {Muse Masterlist}

NOTE: Muses may use neopronouns, but writing partners may default to he/she/they/it terms if they find those easier to use!

NOTE 2: Muses are heavily influenced by headcanons, some of which are listed in their bios!

Alastor - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Asexual Aromantic

Name: Alastor

Nicknames: Al, The Radio Demon, Bambi [Do not use this unless you want to endure bodily harm : ) ]

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 38 at death (Died 1933)

Birthday: September 19th (Virgo)

Height: 7'0"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Presents Male

Pronouns: He/Him, It/Its, Static/Staticself, Radio/Radioself, Deer/Deerself, Loa/Loaself, Veve/Veveself

Sexuality: Asexual Aromantic

Occupation: Overlord of Hell, Charitable Patron of the Happy Hotel, Broadcaster

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Alastor has always been a bit of a mystery to the other Overlords in hell, and nearly every sinner has a story explaining his arrival and the source of his immense power.

Not one of them has come even halfway close to the truth.

When he was alive, he tried and failed several times to secure a job as a radio announcer in his home city of New Orleans. It was in the damp, boggy woods of the Louisiana bayou where Alastor first made a connection with his dark patron, a Loa draped and encumbered by rusting bloodied chains, whose empty eyes yearned for gore and carnage and fixed themselves, burning, onto the man’s very soul. Alastor summoned Bakulu with the fresh blood of a black rooster, and for his offering was rewarded with a position live on air. But of course, one measly offering would not be enough to satiate his dark patron, nor would it have been enough to fulfill Alastor’s own desires. He graduated to goat’s blood, and one by one, the hosts of the city’s most well-known radio shows began to disappear, leaving the publics’ ears eagerly tuned in to him.

And it still wasn’t enough. Bakulu, it seemed, was most pleased by larger offerings, and Alastor soon found himself quite comfortable with a hunter’s rifle pressed snug into his shoulder, a deer (or, preferably, a more bipedal target) caught between his crosshairs. His little hunts were quite the form of stress relief, and the earth drank his sacrifices greedily. It didn't hurt that cleaning the bodies and leaving the blood and bones afforded Alastor with top quality meat at the price of a box of bullets.

But humans are full of error. And errors leave humans prone to accidents. When Alastor was caught and killed by a hunter and his dogs, his own blood served as his final offering to the dark Loa. His spirit was entwined with some of Bakulu’s wretched power, allowing him to manifest in Hell absolutely alive with vodou magic. And gifting him with endless airways waiting to be bathed in the blood of his victims.

Currently, Alastor is amusing himself by keeping a watchful eye over the Princess of Hell's passion project, waiting for her well-intentioned attempt at rehabilitating sinners to implode on itself. His tendency to observe the struggles and failures of others as entertainment stems from his tendency to sensationalize reality, although in Hell, reality doesn't need too much embellishment to be engaging.

Andrealphus - Genderqueer (AMAB) - Homosexual Panromantic

Name: Andrealphus

Nicknames: Andre, Alphie

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: A beauty never reveals her age, darling~. [About 40]

Birthday: January 29th (Aquarius)

Height: 10'0"

Gender: Genderqueer (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Bird/Birdself, Ice/Iceself

Sexuality: Homosexual Panromantic

Occupation: Grand Marquis of Envy

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Hatched and raised by a family with a very powerful standing within the hierarchy of the House Goetia, Andrealphus has always been an instigator. As a very young chick, he was inquisitive and observant, traits he has carried with him into adulthood. When his little sister Stella was hatched, Andrealphus was quickly forced into the role of the dutiful big brother, much to his annoyance. His sister wasn't his baby, she was his sister, it was dumb that he had to make sure she was alright all the time instead of having fun. It was then he began to orchestrate games that only he knew he was playing, games where the consequences left him out of trouble and left Stella looking like an overly rambunctious nuisance. Or at least, that was what was supposed to happen. Instead, his parents shamed him for not being able to "control his sister's fits," not as if they could either even if they'd tried.

When Andrealphus was about twelve years old, his ten-year-old baby sister was betrothed to King Paimon's owl son, Prince Stolas. Stella was not at all subtle about her resentment of the arrangement, but it left a bitter, seething feeling in Andrealphus' heart. Why was it that Stella kept getting things handed to her easily? He was the first-born heir to their Goetia lineage, he was the one with his name in grimoires, why did she get a shortcut to love when she didn't even want it? After Stella had finished angrily crumpling the photo of the owl prince up and abandoned it in the trash, Andrealphus took the token for his own. This "Stolas," he deserved better than a screeching loon like his sister. He deserved proper royalty. Someone who had a grand purpose, like.. Himself.

When not silently plotting to shift any given circumstance into his favor, Andrealphus enjoys spreading and sharing gossip about anyone and everyone. Secrets are a valuable currency, and Andre knows just how to entice someone into sharing what they've heard.

Arackniss - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Asexual Demiromantic

Name: Arackniss

Nicknames: Nissy, Niss

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 45 at Death (Died 1952)

Birthday: December 31st (Capricorn)

Height: 3'8"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Presents Masculine

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, It/Its, Spider/Spiderself, Shot/Shotself

Sexuality: Asexual Demiromantic

Occupation: [Pending]

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

As the eldest son of a ruthless mafioso, Arackniss grew up with a lot of pressure saddled square across his shoulders. His father expected nothing less than devotion and perfection, and anything short of perfection received physical discipline at minimum. His quick wit, quicker trigger finger, and venomous tongue all formed out of a need to survive being berated, beaten, or otherwise eviscerated by his father or the men who worked for him. He became a caretaker to his younger twin siblings once they needed more mobile supervision, and resented the fact that he had been labeled as their de-facto caretaker when they weren't with their mom. Caretaking and child-raising was for the broads, and it didn't take a genius to understand what his father was implying by making him the babysitter.

When Arackniss died, it was in a shootout instigated by his little brother with a rival family. He died protecting his family, and that was what mattered. Not that he was 45 years old, not that he was days away from being the don's right hand, not that he had his purpose taken away by his goddamn brother!

He fell into Hell alone and spiteful, and once his father finally passed, he reunited with him, and committed the sinner's name of Henroin to his memory. That was who was in charge now, and Arackniss fell eagerly into line, into what he knew, into what kept him safe.

Not that he particularly likes being under his father's thumb again..

Asmodeus - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Omnisexual Demiromantic

Name: Asmodeus

Nicknames: Oz, Ozzie, Dee, Big Daddy (from Fizzy usually)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 5,000+

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; celebrates on February 14th

Height: 46'3" at his tallest, 8'-ish when in his civilian form and/or shrunken to fit into smaller spaces

Gender: Gender Apathetic (Intersex) - Presents Masc or Masc-Androgyne

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Lust/Lustself, Sin/Sinself

Sexuality: Omnisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Herald King of Lust, Club-Owner, Sex Toy Manufacturer/Designer

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

As one of the Seven Deadly Sins, Asmodeus has always been a very passionate and driven being, while also adding a certain amount of his own flair to each of his projects. Before being formally cast out from Heaven, he was sent by God to test Tobias' faith in Him. While on Earth, he grew smitten with Sarah, the intended bride of Tobias, and possessed her first seven husbands on their wedding nights to be intimate with her. He showered her in lust and want, before leaving her to rest and stopping her husbands' hearts (not intentionally, of course, but being possessed by an angel isn't the most stabilizing of experiences-), leaving their lifeless bodies to be discovered in the morning. He attempted to possess Tobias in the same way, but Tobias had been given the help of the Archangel Raphael, and finally, Asmodeus was cast out and into Hell, to join his fallen siblings.

Upon his arrival in Hell, Lucifer assigned him to the Fifth Lowest Ring, allowing him to craft it into whatever he wished it to be. Lust began as a simple den of consensual depravity, but, over time, Ozzie began to lean into Lucifer's "Seven Ring Circus" blueprint, what with Mammon being the Clown of Greed and Bee-lze acting as the Aerial and Animal acts both in one, and began to present himself as more of a sexual magician, for lack of a better term. He developed toys, founded clubs for his citizens to explore one another's forms, and began performing in his own lounge.

In the current day, Ozzie is a charismatic, charming Sin, who encourages the free exploration of lust between any and all consenting parties. He's not above a little scheming to make sure things play out the way he feels they are supposed to, and is fiercely protective of those he cares about.

Barbie Wire - Gender Apathetic (AFAB) - Demisexual Aromantic

Name: Barbie Wire

Nicknames: Barb, BB

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 36 (Can match with any Blitzø)

Birthday: April 3rd (Aries)

Height: 5'10"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AFAB) - Presents Femme or Femme-Androgyne

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, Imp/Impself, Cirque/Cirqueself

Sexuality: Demisexual Aromantic (to her knowledge)

Occupation: Drug-Runner, Contortionist

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Barbie Wire and her twin brother Blitzø were born into a traveling circus family ringmastered and run by their father, Cash Buckzo. Both implings were very close with their mother, Tilla, and Barbie in particular served as Tilla's shadow for the longest time. Her and her twin brother learned and performed under their father's less-than-watchful eye, and quickly became favorites of their audience with their synchronized trapeze routines and tandem juggling acts. The twins were soon joined by another impling, their new pseudo-sibling, Fizzarolli, and the three of them took alternating turns in Cash's temperamental, money-driven spotlight.

Circus life served Barbie and her brothers well until Fizz's 18th birthday. That was when everything went to shit. Fizz had managed to secure a spot in Mammon's Big totally Non-Exploitative Clown Pageant Competition, which had brought the circus down into the Greed Ring for a limited performance after the contest. Barbie and Fizz had been paired off by Cash for a partner act after Blitzø routinely fumbled the clubs used for the juggling aerial act's rehearsal. There was no way they were going to allow Blitzø to juggle the clubs while on fire, as they were supposed to be. During Fizz's party, disaster struck.

Blitzø, as the circus would soon discover, had gone off to practice the routine on his own, complete with fire, desperate to prove to his father that he was worth being paid any attention to. And he'd dropped the clubs. Again.

Barbie was stranded in the tent with her mother as the fire consumed the entire circus grounds, up until her mother shoved her, choking, out of the blaze and into the open smoky air. There was only screams, only panic, only vibrant green flames that glittered with emerald violence.

After the fire, Barbie did the only thing she could think of to do; she ran. Her brother had killed their mom, had burned their family alive, had destroyed everything she loved, and so, she ran. She ran headfirst into addiction, into alcohol, desperate to spark any sort of joyful sensation, fuck, any sensation at all, and eventually found herself strung out on H-8. Blitzø re-entered her life by force after a near-fatal overdose, checking her into rehab while she was comatose and recovering in the hospital with a note simply saying Sorry. : (

A bitter, snippy, and guarded woman, Barbie Wire is not too keen on friends, and not too eager to reconnect with her remaining family. She misses Fizzarolli, but doesn't trust how close he is with not one but two of the Deadly Sins. He's doing well for himself, and that's what she cares about most.

Baxter - Transmasc (AFAB) - Asexual Demiromantic

Name: Baxter

Nicknames: Bax, Baxxy

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 19 at Death (Died 1913)

Birthday: [to be updated]

Height: 4'2"

Gender: Transmasc (AFAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Lure/Lureself, Fish/Fishself

Sexuality: Demisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Aspiring mad inventor

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

[Bio Pending]

Boris - Genderqueer (AMAB) - Omnisexual Demiromantic

Name: Boris

Nicknames: Bory, Ouro, Oura (pronounced Aura)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 32 at Death (Died 1978)

Birthday: [to be updated]

Height: 7'3"

Gender: Genderqueer (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, It/Its, Hiss/Hiss-self

Sexuality: Omnisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Sex Worker

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

[Bio Pending]

Charlie Morningstar - Genderflux (AFAB) - Sapphic Femmesexual

Name: Charlotte Morningstar

Nicknames: Charlie, Lottie, Starshine

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 36

Birthday: June 27th (Cancer)

Height: 6'1"

Gender: Genderflux (AFAB) - Presents Femme or Femme-Androgyne

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, Fall/Fallself, Sparkle/Sparkleself, Rain/Rainself

Sexuality: Sapphic Femmesexual

Occupation: Princess of Hell, Heiress of Sin, Owner/Operator of the Happy Hotel

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

As Princess of Hell and Heir to the Throne of Sin, Charlie Morningstar has always tried to see the good in every demon around her. She wants nothing more than to guarantee the safety and happiness of all of her people, stretching from Pride all the way down into Sloth. Her cheerful disposition and optimistic outlook on life is refreshing to some and incredibly annoying to others, and it is very hard for her to understand where that line gets crossed. She also struggles with non-verbal social cues, and can’t stand being talked down to.

Cherri Bomb - Demigirl (AFAB) - Polysexual Panromantic

Name: Cherri Bomb

Nicknames: Cherri, Bomb-Pop

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 27 at Death (Died 1989)

Birthday: December 13th (Sagittarius)

Height: 5’8”

Gender: Demigirl (AFAB) - Presents Femme

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, Fuse/Fuseself

Sexuality: Polysexual Panromantic

Occupation: Freelance Arsonist

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Cherri is one of Pentagram City's biggest and loudest party girls. Her high energy lifestyle and tendency to cause carnage got her entangled with Vox, who uses her destruction as a means to make her into a viral sensation. It was through her interactions with the TV Overlord that she met and befriended Angel Dust, and the two became all but glued at the hip to one another.

Despite her inclination towards random acts of pyrotechnic violence, Cherri does have a more calm and caring side to her. Her number one priority is making sure herself and those she calls her friends are safe and well taken care of, even if it means blowing up some of the Vees' public property as a distraction. While she has yet to actually check into the Happy Hotel, she is very supportive of Angel in his attempts to make it through yet another rehab program.

Cherri is a very physically affectionate person, and if she likes you, you'll know it. She tends to lean on people she likes, drapes her arms around people's shoulders, and shows other such displays of closeness when she's comfortable.

Collin - Transmasc (AFAB) - Bicurious Demiromantic Asexual

Name: Collin

Nicknames: Collie, Collie-Flower

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 20

Birthday: April 19th (Aries-Taurus Cusp)

Height: 1'7"

Gender: Transmasc (AFAB) - Presents Masc

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Cherub/Cherubself

Sexuality: Bicurious Demiromantic Asexual

Occupation: Ex-C.H.E.R.U.B. Employee, Current Occupation Unknown

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Collin is a kind-hearted, generous, albeit timid cherub (ex-cherub now) who wants nothing more than to help souls in need. He is a very physically affectionate and nuzzly person, and struggles with a stutter when overwhelmed or nervous.

(More TBA on him, he’s not fully fleshed out but I’m very excited to get him solid!)

Emily - Agender (AFAB) - Asexual Omniromantic

Name: Emily

Nicknames: Em, Emmy, E, Mimi

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Physically 26, Actually 3,000+

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; celebrates [pending]

Height: 6'1"

Gender: Agender (AFAB) - Presents Feminine

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, We/Us, Divine/Divineself, Joy/Joyself, Seraph/Seraphself

Sexuality: Asexual Omniromantic

Occupation: High Seraphim of Heaven

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

[Bio Pending]

Glam - Cisgender (AFAB) - Asexual Aromantic

Name: Glam (Glamantha)

Nicknames: Glammy, Glimglam, Clam/Clammy (do NOT use this unless you're Glitz)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 22

Birthday: August 8th (Leo)

Height: 6'3"

Gender: Cisgender (AFAB) - Presents Femme

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, Mirror/Mirrorself, Eel/Eelself

Sexuality: Asexual Aromantic (unless established otherwise)

Occupation: Half of Mammon's New Brand Babies, Aerial Artist, Performer

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterlist Pending]

Glamantha, or Glam as she prefers to be called, is a vicious competitive spirit and a cool, controlled, and clever woman. She is incredibly talented, and prides herself on being one of the best performers in Hell. Alongside of her sister Glitz, she constructs and performs acrobatic routines, clown tricks, and has a huge passion for aerial silks.

As a succubus hybrid, one would anticipate Glam to be hypersexual and desire as much intimacy as possible. One would be wrong. Glam is repulsed by the concept of physical intimacy between herself and other people, and only performs sexual acts in order to feed her succubus needs or to market herself and her sister as more stereotypical "Sexy Twins." To her knowledge, she is aromantic; when asked, she simply explains that nobody has ever had enough cash to love her right.

Glam is very outwardly collected, to balance out her sister's manic and hyperactive nature. She rarely smiles, and does not enjoy the sound of her own laughter. Her preferred emotions to display are apathy and judgement; being bitchy makes people more eager to try and please her.

Husk - Cisgender (AMAB) - Pansexual Aromantic

Name: Husk

Nicknames: Husker, Husky, Spades, Aces

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 75 at Death (Died 1972)

Birthday: November 1st (Scorpio)

Height: 5'8"

Gender: Cisgender (AMAB) - Presents Masc

Pronouns: He/Him, Deal/Dealself, Bet/Betself

Sexuality: Pansexual Aromantic (to his knowledge)

Occupation: Bartender at the Happy Hotel

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Husk is a generally apathetic soul, having lost faith in the ability of any one person to be good after witnessing atrocities during war. Upon arriving in Hell, Husk eagerly resumed in his gambling habits, finding himself winning the only thing that wayward sinners had to bet; their souls. Husk took up residence in one of Hell's many casinos and quickly found himself in a position of massive power.

Power which got to his head and inflated his already top-heavy ego. His games became sloppier, and he slowly began to lose more and more of the accidental influence he had acquired. After years of losses and decline, he was befriended and trapped by Alastor, who won his soul in Husk's last gamble as an Overlord, and now serves him in a state of strange voodoo debt/friendship/whatever you want to call it.

Husk is naturally a very protective person, and often uses his few friendships to rationalize going through the motions of a day. He has always been more inclined to stay undetected; it's easier to swindle people out of their minds and money when you're keeping a low profile.

Husk has a passion for magic tricks, specifically card-based magic. He also has a soft spot for music, although he does not generally like to sing outside of his own room.

Loona - Ferusgender Azurgirl (AFAB) - Panflux Asexual Demiromantic

Name: Loona

Nicknames: Loonie, Loonie-Toonie, Loony-Tune, LooLoo, Woona, Wooloo, Loon (Ask before using nicknames unless you want to be bitten OR are Blitzø)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 22

Birthday: August 12th (Leo)

Height: 7'2"

Gender: Ferusgender Azurgirl (AFAB) - Presents Femme

Pronouns: She/Her, Woof/Woofself, Wolf/Wolfself, Hound/Houndself, Bitch/Bitchself

Sexuality: Panflux Asexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Receptionist at I.M.P.

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Loona was born to a mother who did not want her and an absent father. Instead of taking the effort to drop her off at the pound in the Pride Ring, Loona's mother left her unwanted pup in a dumpster and simply walked away, reasoning that there were plenty of hungry wrath-coons who would take care of her. She was instead rescued by a strange imp who heard her whimpering and resolved to take her in and at least give her a bath. Loona served as his daughter until she reached the age of 4 and ran away as a form of rebellion after a heated argument over why he'd taken her favorite toy from her. Back on the street, Loona was caught by Hound-Patrol officers and registered into the Hellhound Shelter System.

Loona remained in the Shelter System until the age of 17, just barely 18, passed from home to home, the memories of her caretaker fading at the edges into a hazy reddish blur. Had she ever had a real home? Had she ever been more than just a glorified pet? Maybe the Shelter staff were right about her, maybe she was too violent, too aggressive. Maybe she'd just be a washed up nobody until she died.

Until she was found, finally, by a face she thought she'd imagined. Blitzø, now armed with the proper adoption papers, brought Loona back home with him a few months before her 18th birthday, and has continued to live with Blitzø in a sort of strange father-daughter-but-also-roommates setup. Her surly attitude and harsh exterior keep her safe from strangers, but those who truly know her understand that she is a very passionate and caring individual, if she deems you worth caring about.

Lucifer Morningstar - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Omnisexual Omniromantic

Name: Lucifer Morningstar

Nicknames: Luci, Lu-Lu, Starfire, Duckie (by romantic partners only)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Physically 40, Actually 5,000+

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; celebrates on September 29th

Height: 5'2”

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Sin/Sinself, Damned/Damnedself

Sexuality: Omnisexual Omniromantic

Occupation: Herald King of Pride/Ringmaster of Hell

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Lucifer is, at his core, nothing if but a dramatic bitch. Having been God's favorite, and being subsequently cast out of Heaven for voicing his opinions and quote unquote stubborn beliefs, he knows the power of words and the power of self-image. Luckily for him, he is a wonderful wordsmith and stands firm to his image as the Herald King of Pride and the Grand Ringmaster of all of Hell, presenting and projecting himself as a cocky, confident leader with a taste for dad jokes.

As a father, Lucifer has tried his best to support his daughter, Charlie, and often fears that he's raising his princess wrong due to who raised him. He is a devoted husband to his lovely Lilith, although the two are in a mutually agreed upon open polyamorous relationship; as long as they tell one another who they are seeing, they may find joy in the company of whoever else they wish.

As a sibling figure to the other Sins, Lucifer has the perilous position of balancing the Sins' viewpoints into some semblance of a functional system. He loves them all as family, even if they get on his nerves sometimes when they make stupid decisions, like copying his amusement park in a ring where he could never take proper legal action, Mammon.

Lute - Agender (Female Presenting) - Asexual Aromantic

Name: Lute

Nicknames: Lieutenant

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Technically Ageless, Presents Early Thirties

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; does not celebrate

Height: 7'2"

Gender: Agender (Female Presenting)

Pronouns: She/Her, Arch/Archself, It/Its

Sexuality: Asexual Aromantic

Occupation: Head Exorcist/Exterminator of Heaven, Assistant to Adam

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Lute is Heaven's champion of holy retribution, and serves God and Adam with a twisted righteousness. She has been Adam's second hand ever since Adam was made a higher divine power in Heaven, and was initially crafted with the purpose of serving him in whatever means he chose. However, her true talent became clear when she was first assigned as a soldier to expel sinners from passing through the Gates. When Heaven received news that Hell was facing overpopulation crisis, Lute was among the first to volunteer herself as an Exorcist; an angel who would go down into the sinful abyss and cull as many sinners as was possible in a day.

Since establishing the yearly Extermination Day, Lute has climbed through Heaven's ranks and settled comfortably into the position of Holy Lieutenant.

Moxxie - Cisgender (AMAB) - Bisexual Polycurious Panromantic

Name: Moxxie Knolastname

Nicknames: Moxx, Ox, Moxmox

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 31

Birthday: May 20th (Taurus-Gemini Cusp)

Height: 4'11"

Gender: Cisgender (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, Imp/Impself

Sexuality: Bisexual Polycurious Panomantic

Occupation: Hitman/Assassin for I.M.P.

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Moxxie is, first and foremost, a lover. Not to say that he can't also be a fighter, he can, and often is. Born into a powerful crime family in the Greed Ring's cleverly named Notamafiatown, Moxxie Knolastname was poised from birth to succeed his father, Crimson Knolastname, and take over as the don of the Knolastname crime empire. Unfortunately for Crimson, Moxxie's mother provided him with nothing but gentle kindness, and attempted to show the young imp the value of empathy.

When Moxxie's mother disappeared, Crimson blamed it on Moxxie for being too soft and unable to hold his own well enough. This pushed Moxxie even further from his father and created a void in Moxxie's life of stable, reliable female figures. During a trip to the Wrath Ring, meant to show the now teenaged Moxxie how to extort property out of what his father called "back-assward horse-fuckers," Moxxie encountered a strong, stunning imp who could very easily turn his little twiggy body into an accordion if she chose. She introduced herself as Mildred, and Moxxie felt his blood turn to butterflies just hearing her voice. He made sure to memorize the address of the farm they'd stopped at before they were chased off the property by Millie's siblings, and the two began a relationship as secret pen pals.

A few weeks before Moxxie was promoted into Crimson's second-in-command, his father discovered his stash of mushy love letters while snooping around his belongings for any stray money. Moxxie was forbidden from contacting Millie, and Moxxie was made to watch in frozen horror as his father tossed each letter one by one into the fireplace. Alone and distraught, Moxxie found himself once again without any sort of figure to give him unconditional safety and love. This led him into a fast, lustful, and passionately sloppy relationship with Chaz, a loan-shark demon who was technically one of his subordinates. The relationship between the two lasted until Chaz abandoned Moxxie to be caught by the police.

Once he escaped from prison with the help of his cell-mate, Blitz, Moxxie retreated to the Wrath Ring and sought shelter at Millie's address. Her parents nearly shot him on sight, but Millie managed to talk her father down and herded the bedraggled ex-mafioso into the safety of her arms. The two migrated to Imp City in the Pride Ring once Moxxie was mentally stable enough for a change in scenery, and the two were married not soon after.

Travis - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Pansexual Demiromantic

Name: Travis

Nicknames: Trav, Travvy, Schnukums (from Angel Dust only)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 32 at Death (Died 1940's)

Birthday: [to be updated]

Height: 5'10"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Screech/Screechself

Sexuality: Pansexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Valet for the Vees (usually Valentino), Guest Writer and Director for Porn Studios

[Bio Pending]

Vox - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Omnisexual Demiromantic

Name: Vox

Nicknames: V, Ox Cord (like aux cord)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 41 at Death (Died 1956)

Birthday: October 1st (Libra)

Height: 7'0"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Presents Masc

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Tech/Techself, Screen/Screenself, Control/Controlself, Glitch/Glitchself

Sexuality: Omnisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Overlord of Hell, Owner of Voxtagram, Producer of Technology

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Vox was born in 1915 to a freshly married (and subsequently freshly widowed) mother just as the first World War was gaining momentum. He never met his father, but from the way his mother spoke of him, he idolized him in concept. As a young boy, he was fascinated by the concept of telegrams from an early age, and frequently practiced writing messages in Morse code. This fascination fed into a growing passion for technological advancements, which followed him into Hell after his death.

Vox is a naturally innovative mind, and desires to keep himself five steps ahead of all other advancements in technology. He kept close watch over the development and explosion of the Internet, and brought his own bastardized version of wireless networking into Hell, using his Vi-Fi networks and tracking cookies to log every sinner's data, using that information to catapult himself into Overlord status.

His endless drive and single-minded determination soon garnered the attention of Valentino, an intensely powerful young Overlord who struck a bargain with him to help keep track of Val's employees under the guise of specialty tech. In return, Val and Vox would share their Overlord status and influence with one another. Eventually, they encountered and all but assimilated Velvette into their empire, and the Vees have governed vast swaths of the Pride Ring ever since, with VoxTek's reach only growing by the day.

Zestial Morde - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Demisexual Demiromantic

Name: Zestial Morde

Nicknames: Zes

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 37 at death (Died 1613)

Birthday: November 13th (Scorpio)

Height: 11'4"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Presents Masc

Pronouns: We/Us, He/Him, They/Them, It/Its, Acid/Acidself

Sexuality: Demisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Elder Overlord of Hell; Member of Lucifer's Council

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

[Bio Pending]

[chatandchai]

♧♦︎House of Cards♦︎♧

AlastorXfem!oc

A Jazz singer?

A Radio Host?

Identities in New Orleans in the 1920s were never a topic of discussion, until of course, Alastor and Kaya decided to cross paths.

AO3 link

// Prologue //Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 //.……..coming soon

[shadowofthehost]

"if I give you cookies, will you call me sugar daddy~?"

@the-one-who-killed-the-radio

@the-one-who-killed-the-radio

"If you give me cookies I'll call you whatever you want."

[circeyoru]

Masterlist

Hi, I'm Circe! Welcome to my list of random writings written from random bursts of thoughts and ideas!

Alastor, The Radio Demon — Hazbin Hotel

{The Spirit's Favourite Human} _ Completed

[Human!Alastor x Spirit of the Forest!Reader] Part 1 — Part 2 — Random Moment — Meet the Demon (Ask)

Spin-off Series — You and Cursed Cat Alastor (ask)

{Angelic Doctor} _ Completed

[Human!Alastor x Disguised Angel!Reader] Part 1 — Part 2 — Random Moment — Meet the Demon (Ask)

{Demonic Companion} _ Completed

[Alastor x Human!Reader] Part 1 — Part 2 — Random Moment

Spin-off Series — Something's wrong with your lover + Angst moments over love = Requested — What if the lover is a killer? = Requested — Reader's demon design + What if LK arrives in Hell = Semi-Requested

{Contracted Love} _ Completed

[Alastor x Crush of Contractor!Reader] Story — Random Moment

{Their Twist In Time} _ Completed

[Time-travelled Human!Alastor x Time User!Reader] Part 1 — Part 2 — Random Moment

{Darkest Confession} = Requested _ Completed

[Human!Alastor x Serial Killer Enthusiast!Reader] Ask — Part 1 — Part 2

{Following The Script}

[Human & Demon!Alastor x Isekai!Reader] Somewhat ask (clarification) — Story

{Cuddles of Another Kind} = Requested (headcanons) _ Completed

[Lucifer x Reader x Alastor] Ask — Story

{Chime of Madness} = Requested _ Completed

[Human!Alastor x Mimzy's Performer!Reader] Ask — Story

{Gift} = Requested _ Completed

[Alastor x Cupid!Reader] Ask — Story

{The Boy & The Witch} = Requested

[Human!Alastor x Witch!Reader] Ask — Part 1 — Part 2

{His Killer} = Requested _ Completed

[Alastor x Male Hunter!Reader] No romance or platonic element Ask — Story

{The Raven's Deer} _ Completed

[Alastor x Zestial’s Little Sibling!Reader] Part 1 — Part 2 = Requested — Bonus headcanon

{Sleeping Romance} = Requested _ Completed

[Alastor x Tired Sleepy!Reader] Ask — Story

{The Black Leash} = Requested _ Completed

[Alastor x High-ranked Hellborn Contractor!Reader] Ask — Story

{The Cat On His Shoulders} = Requested _ Completed

[Alastor x Demonic Cat!Reader] Ask — Story

{Unwanted Soul} = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader] All links have been moved to its new - {US} Masterlist -

{Gone Too Young} = Collab

[Yandere!Human & Demon!Alastor x Male BFF!Reader] - Platonic Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — (more parts coming)

{Game of Guessing} = Requested _ Completed

[Alastor x Great Grandchild!Reader] - Platonic Ask — Story

{Nightmare Catcher} = Requested (headcanons) _ Completed

[Alastor | Vox | Lucifer x Nightmare!Reader] _ separated Ask — Story

{You Think It’s That Easy?} = Requested _ Completed

[Yandere Human!Alastor x Arranged Marriage!Reader] Ask (1) — Ask (2) — Part 1 — Part 2

{Collection of Overlords} = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader] Ask — This Series' Private Masterlist

{Entertainment & Attachment} = Requested

[Poltergeist!Alastor x Medium!Reader] Ask — Story

{Cannot Compute} _ Completed

[Alastor x Robotic Demon!Reader] Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Lucifer Morningstar, The King of Hell — Hazbin Hotel

{Cuddles of Another Kind} = Requested (headcanons)

[Lucifer x Reader x Alastor] Ask — Story

{Nightmare Catcher} = Requested (headcanons)

[Alastor | Vox | Lucifer x Nightmare!Reader] _ separated Ask — Story

Vox, The TV Demon — Hazbin Hotel

{Nightmare Catcher} = Requested (headcanons)

[Alastor | Vox | Lucifer x Nightmare!Reader] _ separated Ask — Story

Hazbin Hotel

{Surprise, Surprise, I’m Here to Watch} = Requested

[Hazbin Hotel x 3 Powers Granted!Reader] Ask — Story

⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧ ⬥ ⬧

About Requests

Last warning for closing the anonymous ask/send

Characters I'll write for: Alastor (mainly); Lucifer, Vox (under consideration and depend on idea)

Reader Settings: I tend to set the reader as gender-neutral, otherwise, I am most comfortable with female-based reader inserts. Without any particular reason for the gender, it will be set as neutral

I do NOT write for SMUT and NSFW requests, like formerly stated. No ifs, or buts, or depending. If I see it in my inbox, I'll shut down the request function altogether.

You can check my works to see what kind of requests were sent and done to avoid repeated ideas or see the range of my genre.

For already sent requests that have yet to be written or replied to. BE PATIENT. Just because you sent a request does not mean I will 100% write it. Or that it just takes more time to write.

(I'm specifically talking about the one requested that is repeatedly sent to me about Yandere!Alastor x Deaf!Reader)

I have full right to decide NOT to write for that specific request at the end of the day. Like you are here to enjoy reading fanfics, I am here to enjoy writing them and receiving new ideas and comments on my work. Thank you.

[chaoticace2005]

I, Sir Pentious’s, List of Things to Build:

1. Matching PJs for the Eggies

2. Warmachine that will DESTROY the Radio Demon and get the attention of the Vees!

3. New warmachine after RADIO DEMON!!! broke the last one (Include updated death ray??)

4. Parachute built into hat

5. Advanced technology to spy on the hotel to impress Vox An “I’m sorry cake.”

6. Nest for me and eggs

7. New coat for the radio demon?

8. Cannon to protect me from a flying cat, tall slutty spider, and a tiny… bug? Cannon to PROTECT the flying cat, tall slutty spider, tiny bug, and close female friends that share a room together.

9. Portable elevator. Stairs suck.

10. Device to prevent me from being thrown off a roof again.

11. Armor against dismembered arms. Also Niffty?

12. Gaydar? Whatever that is, I’m currently unsure.

13. Thing to kill a roomba with knives.

14. Device to open bottles for Husk

15. Quiet door opener/unlocker

16. Shield so Vagatha doesn’t stab me when I go into her room in the middle of the night.

17. Way to remove pornographic images from my brain.

18. SAFE bug killer for Niffty? So less knives

19. Way to remove Valentino from this plane of existence.

20. A safe, loving family for Charlotte.

21. Cookies for the king!!

22. Mechanical duck to get in the king’s favor!

23. Way to fix Father-Daughter relationship? (They did this themselves nevermind)

24. Protection from Radio Demon??

25. Device to get the cat and spider to talk about their feelings so I can stop third wheeling.

26. New wall? Make it indestructible.

27. Flowers Chocolates A bomb for Cherri??

28. Way to break demonic contracts for Angel (and also Husk??)

29. Hangover cure.

30. Prosthetic wings for Vagatha (nevermind she has her own sometimes? Would she want ones for when she doesn’t??)

31. Reinforcements for the building

32. Battle armor for the Eggies

33. Angel killing bullets, bombs, knives, teeth?? And cards??

34. General uniform

35. A moat

36. Poem for Cherri?

37. Angel suggested I added “the courage to actually ask Cherri out,” which I must say is sadly accurate.

38. New egg bois? Or way to resurrect the old ones??

39. Evil but still angelic clothing??

40. Way to communicate with Hell

41. Gift to show affection for Cherri and let her know I’m alive.

42. Way to show memories from Hell for Emily and Molly to see (a device may already exist??)

43. Family reunion for Angel (Anthony??) and Molly.

44. A way to get back home.

[silversodas]

Me watching Vox in stayed gone: well Vox, you seem to have some rejection sensitivity going on. Because this is a big time reaction to Alastor saying no to being your business partner. Which is also weird, seeing as he doesn’t really offer anything to your team being an old school, independent, radio host and serial killer.

I mean unless you guys can do some neat things with your powers together, I am not sure why you even asked. Unless it his charisma you were after, and the most charismatic you can get is a pleasant customer service voice, so I can see that.

Me after watching Vox in the final: OH! YOU WANT TO FUCK HIM SO BAD IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID!! And I am calling it now!! A big reason why he wants/wants to kill Alastor is because he can’t fucking have him!!

[scoutswritingcorner]

Dreamers Don't Dream

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW:Panic Attacks, Nightmares, descriptions of murder/death.

A/N: I know Alastor is a deranged Serial killer but I just want to sit in his lap sometimes.

You usually didn’t dream much but when you did, it was always a fleeting feeling, touch or smell of what could’ve been if you didn’t take the chance. If you didn’t play the “hero”. The voice of your mother calling you in from digging into the dirt as a kid to merely hours before the accident as you recalled the smell of your favorite body wash. Then it was washed away with the face of the man that killed you, the blood on the knife in his hand and the insane way he stared at you. The eyes of your best friend. The eyes that you trusted..the eyes that ripped you away from your family.

Sitting up from the couch in one of the many lounge rooms in the hotel. You felt your skin crawl, you needed to get out of it. Shakily getting off the couch, you noticed the familiar red jacket laying on the couch, as your vision blurred and your breath shortened as you gripped the familiar article of clothing, only one thought crossed your mind. You wanted to find Alastor. No, you needed to find Alastor. You needed to feel safe again.

Your feet robotically walked out of the lounge as your breath quickened and you felt like you were suffocating on nothing but air. As you walked faster you ignored how you almost tripped over your own feet that dragged behind you, your brain getting lost in the halls of the hotel. But your feet knew exactly where you needed to go..a small part of you knew where to find him. One hand carefully grasping onto his jacket as the other one clawed at your own neck as you tried to keep your breathing under control.

Take a left..then go down until you reach one of the maintenance doors and then take a right, then keep going straight. 

A choked sob ripped through your throat as you began to speed walk down the longer hallways, his voice could be heard laughing at someone or something. But then you heard footsteps behind you. Oh Satan, why were they so fast? Was he running at you again? Chasing you down an endless hallway for your Father to find you dead later? Was he here to kill you again and again? To keep torturing you in the afterlife? You already paid the price. Why couldn’t he leave you alone for good?

Then it stopped- all of it came to an abrupt stop. Like a record scratch on a gramophone as cool fingers wiped your tears away and soft jazz started to play from the familiar cane leaned against the bar. “Deep breaths, Cher.” His voice called out the radio filter gone for now. One of his hands slowly guided your hand to his chest as he took a deep breath in and then slowly let it out, watching as you slowly started to do the same. 

“Good..one more deep breath for me?” He whispered, leaning his head down to allow you to finally look up into his scarlet eyes. Taking in one last deep, shaky breath for him before exhaling the panic and fear gone. “There we are, Darling. That pesky nightmare bothering you again?” He asked as you silently nodded, scared to say anything right now. He hummed the radio filter back as he held his arms open in an asked question. ‘Can I hold you?’, it was a simple question but it was one that made your undead heart flutter. He never asked to hold you or touch you, he always did it without thought and you never really minded but now? Now it makes you feel ten times better.

With a quick nod to him he easily snapped his fingers and both of you were on the couch in the foyer. His arms wrapped snugly around you as you got comfortable on his lap, head hiding into his shoulder. His red jacket wrapped around your frame as you mindlessly messed with his undone bowtie, as his thumb rubbed up and down your lower back.

“Did I tell you about the time I made Vox short circuit at one of my meetings? Oh you should’ve seen everyone’s faces, Cher. It was to die for.”

[cherubfae]

Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.

Good To Be Back On the Air || Alastor x reader

tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!

Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.

True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.

As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.

Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.

"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.

Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.

Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.

Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.

"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"

Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.

Hazbin Hotel.

Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?

With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.

Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"

On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"

To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.

With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.

"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.

"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.

Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.

Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.

"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."

You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.

Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.

"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."

"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."

It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?

Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.

"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"

Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.

On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"

Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.

An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.

"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.

"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."

Vox groans in protest. "I know."

Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.

Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.

Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.

"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.

"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.

"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.

Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."

"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"

Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.

Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."

Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."

Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.

Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.

[matrixbearer2024]

Hi!!! I love your Get Off My Screen series so much! I was wondering if I could do a request for that?

Basically the idea is that Vox and the reader are just texting at night maybe and he lets something slip about something he misses from his old life on earth and because of that the reader remembers that the person they’ve been talking to for like over a year by now probably used to be alive and just spends the whole night learning everything they can about vox when he was alive (I imagine this would happen whilst vox was asleep and we’re just googling him) and then maybe I feel like we’d also google Alastor as a joke to see what all the fuss is about and then we find out that the person vox is ~~crushing~~ hating on is a serial killer and then just telling everything we learned when he wakes up.

Sorry if that’s really long I just fell like this is 100% what I would do in this situation

Old Times Gone By

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: I'm so glad you guys are requesting scenarios within the series, heck- I'm glad y'all enjoy it this much already hahaha! This is somewhat of an aftermath to the "You Could Do Better(With Me)" which is why it's not as cheery as the other chapters- but it's definitely not straight up angst. Just vulnerability and late night chatting between friends. Haha "friends"- And as always, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and happy reading!

A/N: Again, I kind of deviated from the prompt a little to better fit the narrative but Reader does know about Alastor and who he is because of Vox's ranting. They're aware that her demonic crush has a weird obsession with a cannibalistic radio serial killer deer dude and it's still not the weirdest thing he's done so far HAHAHAHA

If there was one thing Vox had to say he hated about drinking-

It had to be dealing with the hellish hangovers come morning.

Especially when he'd been wasted the night before.

A sharp jab in his side caused him to wake up this time.

He grunted, nearly falling off his chair when he shifted ever so slightly.

Huh-

Wait, why was he in here???

He could feel the migraine start to pound in his head.

Vox wasn't looking forward to today already.

When he tried to stand up, a clink of a bottle made him look down by his feet.

Picking it up to give the darn thing a once over, he scoffed.

He must have been absolutely hammered to have finished this yesterday.

It was a brand he despised the taste of too.

"Vox-? Oh, you're up."

His head whipped around so quickly once he heard your voice.

When had he even connected to your TV?

Not that he complained, he managed to see you sat up on the couch and stretching.

Your hair stuck up in odd positions and you even looked to be half-awake.

Why was that fucking cute???

"I- mhm. I guess I am. Was I... drinking yesterday?"

"I don't really know, I just knew you were drunk out of your mind last night. I can only see your face remember?"

"Ah... right."

Vox couldn't really bring himself to say much this time, not while he was still trying to grab the bits and pieces of his memory on yesterday's events.

Did he really wander into the monitor room just because he missed you?

That was low, even for him.

"Good morning anyhow, not that I think it would be if you're dealing with a hangover."

Vox just chuckled, watching you get up and disappear from the TV's view.

He wasn't in any mood to work at all, especially when he had a shitty headache to deal with too.

Eh, his empire could last a day without him.

He notified his secretary to just cancel all his duties and appointments for today, just ignoring their panic as you returned back into view.

"What are you holding?"

"Coffee."

"I thought you said you hated coffee?"

"Not hate, I just don't prefer it. But I need the caffeine to function today and I'd rather drink this bean juice than those energy drinks."

Vox wouldn't admit it, but talking to you again was already starting to make him feel a little better.

Especially after your noticeable absence.

He'd rather die again that outright say he missed you, his pride wouldn't allow it.

Cracking his joints, he just watched you sleepily stare up at him from where you sat on the couch.

Granted, it was probably because your TV was probably perched higher or on a shelf.

But Vox still thought you were kind of short.

Not that he had the right to say anything-

He was a 7ft tall giant compared to you.

"Again with the bean juice thing, and what's wrong with energy drinks?"

"They taste like straight up chemicals."

Vox just gave you a weird look when you rolled your eyes at him.

Still you just kept talking to him inbetween taking sips of your hot beverage.

"I'm not surprised you enjoy them, but your palate is probably shit."

"Oh you do not wanna go there-"

"What if I do huh? Watcha gonna do about it?"

Vox just grinned, you getting up to move closer to the screen as you challenged him.

The wide mischievous grin on your face mirrored his own and you both quickly devolved into just either bragging about exotic foods you've eaten-

Or straight up going for the jugular about each other.

"You eat McDonald's daily? I can't believe you'd feed yourself garbage Vox-"

"It's not garbage, and don't act like you've never eaten fast food."

"You are what you eat, I guess!"

"Ohoho! You bitch!"

Vox didn't seem to mind the numbing headache he felt when you were back to being your animated rambunctious self.

He wondered if it was because of the caffeine that made you all hyped up but he couldn't really bring himself to give a shit.

Not when he was still pretty tired.

It seems you noticed his retorts weren't making their usual mark though, and you crossed your arms over your chest while leaning towards the TV screen.

Vox just narrowed his eyes at you in confusion, what were you doing?

"You my good sir, need a hot cup of coffee more than I do. And freshen up while you're at it, I need to go take a shower too anyways."

You-

You did not just do what he think you did.

Were you actually mothering him??

Vox just rolled his eyes at your words, not really intending to go until he realized you weren't budging an inch either.

"Didn't you just say you needed to go clean up?"

"Not leaving till you are."

"Stubborn much?"

"Not that different from you, no."

The tech overlord laughed at your insistence, eventually relenting and disconnecting himself from your devices.

He stretched again when he got up from his chair, picking up the empty alcohol bottle near his feet not intending to clutter up or dirty his workspace.

Vox perked up when his phone buzzed though.

The darn thing catching his attention before he forgot it was there.

He checked on it with his free hand, chuckling when he realized it was just a message from you.

"Go and freshen yourself up, get a cup of coffee too while you're at it. I'll be back soon, kisses!"

You almost caused him to break his phone from the grip he had on it.

Kisses???

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?!

Vox seriously stood there staring at his phone for a good ten minutes just buffering and rebooting-

Dude is actually broken the second you do literally anything with vaguely romantic undertones.

Still he stomps all over his own hopes and feelings in fear of misinterpreting your friendliness.

Yeah, both of you were fucking clueless.

You stayed true to your word and did eventually come back after you'd cleaned yourself up.

Vox had just been waiting on your TV again and the screen brightened slightly upon noticing you.

It was a subconscious reaction, don't bring it up or he'll definitely throw a hissy fit.

So that's what you both did the whole day, talking and just catching up.

While Vox did mention you skipped classes for the day, you just shot back that he threw his work to the backburner as well.

Not that he bothered to refute it, instead just moving on with the conversation like normal.

Hours passed and time flew.

Before you knew it, the both of you were talking well into the evening.

"And that's kind of the reason why I think spaghetti is superior to penne."

"Doll, they're straight up just different kinds of pasta."

"The fact there's different kinds of pasta mean that people clearly can't decide on a superior noodle shape."

Yeaaah... your conversations kind of stopped making sense an hour ago.

Not that either of you minded, even laughing about some stupid thing way into the AM.

"So like- he thought he was really some hot shit taking on the leader of the exorcists but he got his ass absolutely handed to him!"

"Bro almost got turned into demonic venison HAHAHAHA!"

Though of course, late night conversations always went deeper than those normally held within the day.

"Say... Vox?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you miss being alive? With, ya know- talking to me and all."

Vox paused slightly, it's been a long time since he reminisced of his living days.

When was the last time he even did?

"Not necessarily, I miss some things but not a whole lot."

"Like what? When did you die???"

"Hm... I don't remember the exact date, but sometime in the fifties?"

Vox recoiled when you just gawked at his screen, why did you react like that?

"Holy shit! You're fucking ancient!"

"Haha... very funny doll, I'm not that old! I died in my thirties."

"Ehhhh? You're not much older than I am then. How??"

"Don't remember, it was a long long time ago."

You made a weird face at him, to which Vox just smiled and chuckled.

It was the same expression you wore when trying to figure things out.

As... weird and cute as it may be.

Then you suddenly yawned, causing the tech overlord to consequently do the same.

Something you poked fun at him for since when did TVs yawn apparently.

Rolling his eyes, Vox took a glance at his internal clock.

It was four in the morning?!

How long had you both been talking????

"Vox? You good?"

Apparently his bewilderment was evident on the screen, so he just switched his attention back to you.

Vox's screen glitched slightly when he was caught off guard by how close you got to the TV.

Almost all up in his face even.

"Y-Yeah, just zZst- fine. Say... Doll, do you know what time it is?"

"Uhhhh- no, not really- why?"

"It's four in the morning."

"And?"

"You need to sleep?"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back to the TV, plopping down on the couch with a pout.

"Hey."

You ignored him.

"Heeeeeey-"

Vox couldn't help but chortle from your antics, you really seemed like a grumpy child right now.

"Look dollface, I don't want the fun to end either but we've still got tomorrow."

"I don't wanna say goodnight. You're just going to disconnect when I do."

"What, you can't expect me to fall asleep hooked up to all your stuff again can you? My chair isn't the most comfortable place to fall asleep."

"Still!"

Vox rubbed his face with a sigh, he felt the inexplicable urge to just pinch your cheeks.

He would if he could but he didn't exactly have hands as a TV.

Why did you have to be so cute?

"How about this? I'll stick around until you pass out. You won't even notice I'm gone come morning."

"Fineeeeeee."

It didn't take too long for you to fall asleep on the couch.

Similarly to yesterday, you were just haphazardly sprawled across the furniture with a thin blanket to cover you.

Despite his words, Vox still stuck around for a while to make sure you were asleep.

You looked so serene while you rested, like you didn't have any worries.

The overlord let out a tired sigh, he'll just stick around for another five minutes.

Just a little longer in this peaceful moment with you.

Vox totally fell asleep in his chair again, he woke up that morning in an awkward position feeling more sore than ever too.

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

"MORNING VOXYYY!!!"

[weebsinstash]

I feel like yandere Alastor would either be freakishly aware of his feelings for you from day 1 OR he would need to gradually grow into realizing it himself UNTIL one day you do something incredibly mundane like get a haircut and he's having like A VISIBLY NEGATIVE REACTION TO IT

Alastor pretending he's so unflappable and unbothered and this mf is a serial killer who started eating people and one day he turns to greet you and your hair is completely different from the last time he saw you and he's all but crushing the whiskey glass in his hand. Oh darling, what did you DO? He hates it :') it plunges him straight into cold water, makes him UNCOMFORTABLY AWARE that, oh wait shit that's right, you and him are barely even acquaintances; OF COURSE he technically should not have any input on how you act or style yourself

... but he wants to, and he's so extremely bothered by this sudden jarring realization that you could completely change at any time without his input or control and THAT makes him viscerally uncomfortable. What if, what if he turns around again and you're-you're degrading yourself by sleeping with some hooligan?! What kinds of people are you interacting with on your bothersome social media? You're not talking to someone like VOX are you?!

I'm convinced that you could be the most untalented unremarkable individual without any noticeable skills or talents that would benefit Alastor in any way whatsoever and he's still over here, "you know what would be a perfectly reasonable response to this? Lovingly tricking my poor dear into giving me their soul so I can help steer them onto the right path :) and by 'help' i mean completely take away their option to refuse me :) for their own good :) it'll be a real gas!"

A night comes when Alastor is out with Nifty and Husker and the Radio Demon suggests rather cheerfully, "oh, now that I think of it, there's someone missing from our little band of thieves tonight!" and he snaps his fingers and, there you are, suddenly appearing in a stool next to Alastor, already all gussied up as Husker looks upon you with a combination of pity, sympathy, and horror. So Al got you too, huh? Husker helps pour you a drink while Alastor starts chattering away about some random nonsense only Nifty is interested enough to listen to while you and Husk share mutual expressions of "if we could kill ourselves to get out of this--"

[lolomidi]

The Price of Entertainment: An Episode-By-Episode Analysis of Alastor's Facade

I don’t think any character in Hazbin Hotel has been discussed as much as Alastor, and it’s a testament to how much the writers put in his character that the mystery of his intentions, past, and contract have been so debated on.

There are some takes I vehemently disagree with, but something a lot of people seem to have settled on is that Alastor is, behind his massive ego and cool-headed persona, insecure about his place in Hell after his long “sabbatical.” I want to do an episode-by-episode analysis of Alastor’s behavior and how Season 1 shifts our view of him from an unquestionably powerful Overlord to something with more depth, and while I won’t be speculating on who owns his soul and how he’ll break that contract in those post, I will take a guess at the future of his character in a narrative sense. I will also implicitly be addressing my issues with some of the conclusions others have made, or at least playing devil's advocate.

NOTE: I want to clarify that none of this is meant to depict Alastor as some poor woobie. He’s still awful. He’s in Hell for several reasons and being a serial killer is only one of them. Rather, I want to analyze what is shown to us about him, and how those story beats can be used to determine where he’ll end up by the finale of the series.

ALSO NOTE: I haven’t followed all of VivziePop’s comments outside of the show about the characters, and it’s possible that certain details have been changed between the release of the pilot and the show, so take any mentions of what hasn’t been explicitly depicted within the show with a grain of salt.

___

Part 1: Recap Analysis

This section will consist of commentary regarding Alastor's appearance and behavior in the given episodes, with retrospection based on new information given in later episodes if needed.

“Overture”: Alastor is pretty one-to-one with his depiction in the pilot in the first episode. He’s snarky, open about his sadism, but helpful if begrudgingly so. Interestingly, he’s able to put together a well-edited, if tonally awful, commercial, and probably could have done better if he weren’t intentionally being an ass about it. From the finale we know that he and Vox likely used to have a more magnanimous relationship, and it’s likely that he picked up some tools of the digital trade in that time despite or before being turned off completely by it.

“Radio Killed the Video Star”: Vox effectively plays heel for Alastor this episode as we continue that first impression of the Radio Demon. We spend a good time showing off the former’s power and how far his roots have spread throughout Hell’s society, only for Alastor to effortlessly trounce him and steal from his audience, despite being gone for so long and his position in Hell less stable. This indicates that Alastor does still have pull, but at the same time that his position in the hierarchy of Hell is being contested due to the length of his absence. He deals with it easily here, but we’ll see in subsequent episodes that things aren’t as smooth as they first seem.

“Scrambled Eggs”: In terms of the eggs, there’s not much to talk about. He begrudgingly accepts Vaggie’s request to get rid of them “humanely,” but brings them back to the hotel after they prove to be useful spies.

More importantly, we get our first small hint that Alastor’s ego can be bruised when Carmilla doesn’t humor him during the meeting between Overlords. Now, I actually disagree with a lot of the takes on this episode in that I think it indicates that at least some of Alastor’s views and need to prove himself as a powerful Overlord are the result of self-delusion. Yes, he does need to reestablish himself as a person not to be messed with after being gone for so long, but I think it isn’t as bad as some are making it out to be, which makes his behavior in later episodes more strange and excessive if anything.

Carmilla, who mind you is a busy and stressed woman trying to hide the fact that she’s successfully murdered an angel, hits his ego by not caring where he’s been (something he wouldn’t have revealed in the first place), but she also welcomes him back, which is more than you could say to Velvette and by extension the Vees. And minutes before that, Zestial, who’s probably the highest on their totem pole, does go out of his way to meet with Alastor and inquire about where he’s been. Alastor himself gets over the slight pretty quickly and has no issue contributing to the meeting. Overall, he isn’t necessarily terrifying other overlords, but he still has an established place with them and they do seem to get along well enough. He’s “part of the group” unlike the Vees, who are treated more like upstart outsiders.

I also want to point out that despite Zestial likely outranking Alastor in power, they seem to be alright with each other. Alastor is cordial and does not demonstrate a desire to antagonize him like he does Lucifer in the next episode. Speaking of which…

“Dad Beat Dad”: This episode gives us a lot to chew on and is the first major indicator that Alastor’s issues go beyond wanting to be the center of the room. From the very moment Lucifer walks into the hotel*, his eye is twitching and he is visibly pissed. Lucifer undermining him (notably contrasting Zestial, who is polite despite his power) doesn’t help and makes Alastor let loose his first swear in the entire show. Being the petty bitch he is, Alastor, knowing he can’t intimidate Lucifer in any way, immediately goes for his weak point–Charlie–and plays up the role of a caretaker for her and the hotel. It’s a low blow, but it also feels like a defense–he’s signaling to Lucifer that this is his hotel, that things are taken care of already, and that they do not need his assistance, even though they ultimately do in order to get a meeting with Heaven.

But then things get more complicated with the appearance of Mimzy, who, to the surprise of several characters due to his solitary nature, was friends with Alastor all the way back when they were alive, and she carries a load of implications with her. She’s the only crack so far at what a “human” Alastor is like–apparently he’s a heavyweight drinker, a good dancer, and most notably, in Mimzy’s words, a sweet man who "becomes a kitten" when he's drunk. This is a huge departure from the unflappable, egotistical Radio Demon we’ve known up to now, and I think it’s a purposeful choice that we’re hearing this information but not shown it like his early days in Hell just prior. It’s simultaneously left to the imagination but difficult to do so because it contrasts so heavily with everything that has been shown to us beforehand. Another thing is that Mimzy is sure that Alastor will clean up her mess–and apparently this isn’t the first time he has, if Husk is anything to go by. So many people seem to miss this, but Alastor, who hates being tied down or disrespected, has been allowing Mimzy to leech off of him, presumably due to their past friendship making him turn a blind eye.

Alastor is on edge for this entire episode and is already unusually snappy when Husk addresses Mimzy, and pushing the button that was his contract is what sends him over the edge. His temper exploding is a direct result of his feeling that his control over both the hotel (via Lucifer) and his personal life (via Husk’s “doubt” that he can handle everything and that his reputation is what it used to be, plus the reminder of his deal) is being taken away from him. Alastor’s threat to Husk, which seems to not be his usual behavior if Husk’s willingness to show concern and talk back in the first place is anything to go by, is an attempt to remind both of them that he holds the cards, that he’s a powerful Overlord that is not to be trifled with, and he explicitly says as much when he goes out to deal with what Mimzy’s dragged in.

It’s only after he lets his anger out on the mobsters and “proves himself” that he visibly calms down and makes the logical decision to tell Mimzy to leave with a serious attitude, and also doesn’t antagonize anyone for the rest of the episode. It seems like despite his fury earlier, he was listening to Husk, who’s rightfully smug about it. He’s even present when Charlie declares her desire to protect her people, and his smile seems just a tad bit more genuine.

*Note: it’s not impossible that Alastor has some sort of personal grudge against Lucifer which caused his hate-on-first-sight, depending on the circumstances of his disappearance and contract (i.e. if it’s with Lilith).

“Hello Rosie!”: As opposed to Dad Beat Dad, Hello Rosie is arguably where we see Alastor at his most in-his-element. He gives off a lot of conflicting vibes at the beginning, from mocking Charlie’s distress to, in a shockingly honest moment, lecturing her about the importance of a smile to portray strength, a card we’d only been shown due to comments outside of the show. He smugly holds his knowledge over Charlie’s head but is visibly impatient to have her make a blank check of a deal with him, solid enough to benefit him but vague enough so that Charlie won’t feel immediately threatened. He’s clearly been waiting for an opportunity like this since the events of the pilot.

After that, he puts back on his gentleman’s demeanor and introduces Charlie to Rosie, and from here on he’s arguably at his most comfortable in the entire show. He’s relaxed around Rosie and is actually willing to ask for her help (something I can’t see him doing with any other character), casually complains about Susan, is encouraging to and praises Charlie even behind her back, and most notably, gives her his radio cane unprompted. More on that later. He also mentioned wanting to guide Charlie to Rosie specifically, implying that he was being genuine about wanting to act as a mentor to her, though his intentions are probably self-beneficial.

“The Show Must Go On”: The finale is arguably the most revealing episode on what Alastor’s inner world is like, as we see him unmasked several times. For one, his private admission to Niffty, the closest thing he has to a friend within the hotel, that he’s enjoyed watching the other residents connect to each other. This is in direct opposition to his initial (stated) reason for helping the hotel in that he wanted to watch them all fail, and yet he seems content with his initial assumptions being proven wrong. There’s no malice or sarcasm in this moment, he’s relaxed and talking to someone he relatively trusts.

And so he goes into the battle swinging and confident. Then, of course, Adam.

I want to bring up something before we keep going. Yes, fighting Adam without angelic weaponry was a needless risk. Yes, Alastor fell victim to the very sloppiness and arrogance he accused Adam of, and it’s thematically appropriate that he was the only one to lose his battle in that he was fighting for his own ego more than “love.” But also, people seem to forget that Alastor is the only demon in the entire show with a precedent for permakilling without an explicit reliance on angelic weaponry, as the Overlords he toppled in his original rampage seem to have never returned. He’s egotistical, but not stupid. He may have genuinely believed that he had the means to kill Adam himself but didn’t get the chance/couldn’t due to his contract or absence possibly weakening him. But that's speculation for another day.

So, he has to retreat before Adam double-taps his ass and is too injured to return until after the extermination. He makes a grand exit, but not before grabbing the broken pieces of his radio cane. The one he allowed Charlie to use just an episode prior, and presumably is a conduit for his powers, and he grabs it while a murderous angel is inches away from wiping him off the face of Hell.

His portion of “Finale” is the first time we see him singing alone and not playing off someone in a duet. It’s obvious that he’s trying to keep his composure, still speaking to himself in his artificial transatlantic accent (which we now know for a fact he doesn't need to do, seeing as he finally broke character when Adam wrecked his cane) and reassuring himself that he’ll come out on top next time. But here his front shatters and we openly see what the show has been hinting he is for the first time: a deeply paranoid, desperate, and unstable man.

Essentially the worst-case scenario has happened: after a season of interfering with every attempt to capture him on camera, Vox has footage of him at his lowest point for all of Hell to see, and he’ll have “died” a martyr, a weakling, and still in the chains of an unwanted contract. For Alastor, who is so deeply afraid of showing any sign of vulnerability, who wants to be seen as a monstrous Overlord, it’s understandable that this humiliation is enough to send him into a mental spiral and recant any fondness for the hotel in favor of accomplishing his own goals. Worse yet, when we next see him he gives zero indication of any of this even when Charlie and company are simply glad that he's alive, which leaves us to wonder: has he been like this behind the smile from the very beginning?

___

Part 2: Closing Thoughts and Future Speculation

With everything we’ve taken note of above, we can start to piece together a picture of who this guy is, and what the writers are going to do with him.

Alastor is sentimental. It’s not just his attachment to older technology or his love for being the center of everyone's attention. He likes being around people, he has friends, one of which he continuously indulged despite her using him multiple times, and he ultimately was starting to enjoy his time at the hotel before his defeat spooked him. Despite him using her, the fact that he was even willing to let Charlie use his cane (and note that he takes it from her as soon as she’s given a substitute, so that is a significant gesture for him) is an implicit display of trust whose implications don’t become apparent until the finale.

But this is paired with deep insecurity. Alastor, despite being one of the most powerful people in the Pride Ring, has a crippling fear of being seen as vulnerable or “lesser” by others. There could be multiple overlapping reasons for this: the general climate of Hell, whatever happened to him seven years ago, his experiences as a mixed-race human living in Prohibition-era Louisiana, his original death, a natural predisposition, etc.

Regardless, this anxiety of his is so overwhelming that, when paired with the ever-present stress of not owning his own soul, it’s driving him insane. He made a splash in Hell upon entry and now he’s desperately trying to reinvoke that in order to defend himself both physically and mentally. He’s the gifted kid who’s slowly going nuts trying to keep up an impossible momentum as they grow older. He’s an ex-human denying his humanity because he doesn’t want to feel human. Everyone’s out to get him, and anyone who could be an enemy is an enemy unless he has total control over them via a contract, power, or the reassurance of years of close friendship. It’s why he’s cordial to Zestial but takes Carmilla (who wasn't even trying to spite him) and Lucifer’s comments personally, in the same way someone with low self-esteem might want to lash out against an authority figure who they feel is looking down on them.

Worse yet, he can’t/won’t let these feelings out and is bottling them up so that no one will know he feels this way (note how quickly he was able to relax in Dad Beat Dad when he was given an outlet for his stress), because that’s a sign of weakness too. It’s honestly kind of frightening that in his final scene he gives zero indication of being injured or of just having had a meltdown. By all outside accounts, he’s his usual chipper self, and no one at the hotel save for maybe Husk, who can’t say anything Alastor doesn’t want him to, would realize anything is amiss. The reason his part of “Finale” is chilling isn’t just because of the implications that he will become an antagonist in the future–it’s that his mental state is so poor that he is no longer acting rationally, which makes him unpredictable in the worst possible way.

I think Alastor’s character arc isn’t going to be redemption by way of going to Heaven, I don't think that place is his style anyway, but rather redemption of his own self-image. I don’t think the writers would make what is arguably the most popular and well-developed character in the show just to say that he’s hopelessly evil and simply end it at that. We’ve been exposed to multiple facets of his character, and while his deeds and probably his intentions are sinister, his underlying motivation for it all seems to be “freedom,” which decidedly isn’t (unless your name is Eren Jaeger).

I do believe that he’ll have his villain moment where he indulges in his worst impulses, but that ultimately it won’t do anything to fulfill him, because as we see in the official comics before the release of the show (which may no longer be canon but still give a viable “baseline” for the characters), when his desire to be feared and respected is granted, it only isolates him. Like the others, he’ll have to hit rock bottom before he can climb back up.

Pentious, who was successfully redeemed, needed to understand that people weren’t out to get him, which allowed him to make the decision to put his friends before himself and trigger his selfless sacrifice. Angel, who’s well on his way to redemption, needed to realize he wasn’t alone and could rely on others, and his confidence and self-love has grown enormously since then. I think these are both lessons Alastor will need to learn eventually as well. He’s the manager of the hotel, but also undoubtedly a patient. He’s hungry for freedom, but only when he learns these lessons will he be truly free.

Or maybe I’m thinking too much into it idk lmaooooo

[seven-circlllxs]

🍾 to get drunk with my muse! - @e-m-p-error (Val for Voxxy!)

Send an Emoji Starters

[@e-m-p-error]

Intoxication was sort of a constant side effect of being with Valentino.

Er, no. Not a side effect.

It was a side effect just as much as Val handing you a drink was a suggestion.

You were drinking what he gave you, and if it was a whole ass bottle of whatever the fuck sparkling shit he grabbed off the bartop and shoved in your hand, well..

"We haven't gotten trashed like this in a while, Vela, what's the celebration for?" Vox's smile faltered just a bit as he pressed the rim of the bottle to his screen and chugged one, two, three hearty swallows.

Holy fuck, this shit was strong..

[fraugwinska]

Guys, here we are - my first try at VOX x Reader! ;> Who knew we would be here one day? And it's all thanks to @macabr3-barbi3, for whom this bribe was intended, but we'll graciously share it with you ;> Don't worry though - I am a Deer Girl through and through. Just with a side of TV Slut now (once in a while)

Vox x Reader : Hatefuck prompt - 18+ - Minors DNI!

Pretty Desperate

"Sir, your 6 o'clock is here."

"She can fucking wait, I need another five."

Vox rubbed at his temples, staring down at the monitor in front of him as Papermint quickly retreated from the control room, the clipboard the little shit always carried clutched in front of his chest. He had dreaded this particular meeting the whole day.

Alastor's bitch, the little assistant he had hired not a month before had been nothing but trouble. And if Vox was honest, not only to him, but also to Alastor himself. The Radio Demon had been completely clueless to the goddamn puppy crush the assistant had on him.

It made Vox sick.

Little Miss Nobody wasn't even that hot! Just an average looking demon. A bit short, not really muscular, no wings, no tail, no tits, nothing special, except for a pair of twisted horns and a somewhat nice ass. Following Alastor around like a lost dog, carrying his coat, running errands for him, all the while fluttering her lashes and smiling coyly at him, thinking nobody noticed.

Except Vox did. He fucking noticed, and he wanted to throw up.

He could understand, honestly, why the assistant had the hots for Al. His friend was charming, had a killer body, and his voice was a goddamn treat to listen to, especially when he got all excited and happy about something. His laugh was loud, a tad maniacal, and it always made Vox shiver to his bones.

But the problem was, the feeling wasn't mutual. Alastor wasn't into his assistant. Didn't have the hots for her, and wouldn't want to get between her thighs even if she shoved his microphone in her cunt. Al had never even touched her, or anyone else for that matter. Vox knew that, from first hand experience, and still he hated this bitch. He hated how she thought she had any chance with Alastor. And he hated her because he didn't have a chance with Alastor either.

Not that it was her fault per se, but still. She had some audacity, to even think to have a chance when Vox hadn't even gotten past a fucking friendly pat on the shoulder yet.

"Fuck!"

Papermint flinched, and Vox felt his lips twitch, the little shit had entered again without him noticing.

"Mr. Vox, your-"

"Yeah yeah, I know, send her in. And get me a drink, and make it a strong one."

He nodded, hurrying to get the requested drink before opening the door to let Alastor's assistant inside. She had a stack of folders under her arm, and a nervous look on her face. She had a thing against the Vee's, especially him, and it made him want to strangle her, even though he knew that his overall appearance, the sharp angles of his screened head and the cold look he always gave her was most likely the reason for her nervousness.

"Mr. Vox-"

"No small talk, get to the point. I'm sure Alastor wouldn't have sent you here if it wasn't something urgent."

"O-oh, of course. There was a... situation, I was instructed to deliver these to you, while Mr. Alastor has gone to check it out."

"And he didn't bother calling?"

"It was quite sudden, and he wasn't sure if you would answer your landline."

Vox grunted, Alastor's refusal for any modern technology past fucking landlines and telegrams was getting on his last nerves more and more, but there was nothing he could do about it. If he wanted to live in the stone age, that was his business.

"Hand those over and get out.”

"I'm afraid I was instructed to stay until you've taken care of them."

"As fucking usual."

He knew for a fact that Alastor sent her here only to annoy him. Those papers didn't need checking, Vox would only look over them and stamp a little print on the front saying 'Approved', and they were done. But his friend loved to tease him, and ever since Vox had voiced his dislike against his assistant, Alastor had gotten a certain morbid joy out of pushing him to work together with her.

"Yes, fuck, whatever. Let's get this shit over with. Come in, and shut the door behind you."

At least she kept her mouth shut while he skimmed over the content of said papers, drinking from the tumbler filled with what tasted like Gin. For once she wasn't being annoying, and she didn't stare at him defiantly the way she usually did. She looked defeated in a way, the usual sass in her stance missing as she waited, silently and unmoving next to him, hands folded tightly in front of her. Odd.

"What's the matter, dollface? Alastor finally told you he'll never fuck you?", he smirked, turning a page and scribbling his signature at the bottom of the page.

He heard a quiet, shaking breath, and for the first time since she entered the room, he looked directly at her.

Her eyes were burning red, and Vox hadn't realized she had been crying, but she clearly was. Silent, thick tears escaped her eyes, running slowly down her cheeks, leaving trails where her finger wiped them off hastily.

"Oh, seems like I've hit the bull's eye. Fuck, doll, stop crying, I get that he rejected you, but that's just pathetic."

"Leave me alone. What does it matter to you anyway?", she whispered, more tears running down her face.

"Like I care, you'll run back to Al with your little tears and tell him how much you're pining for him, how desperate you are. Maybe that's a bit of his kink and he'll actually consider it, who knows. You might get a pity-fuck with one of his voodoo-minions at the end, is that what you want?"

He expected her to respond, expected her to either throw something at him or slap his stupid grin off his screen. He certainly hadn't expected what happened. She sobbed and slapped a hand across her own face, silencing the heart-wrenching noise she emitted. But Vox had to watch how her whole expression just crumbled, he watched her face turn red, and how she wiped over her face furiously, swiping away more tears that were still coming.

For a few moments, Vox sat frozen in his chair, unable to process the situation. The paper in his hand was crumpled in his grip. It wasn't a little crush, that was painfully obvious. Fuck, what was her name again? Did she like Alastor for real?

"Alright, shit. You, uh... sit down."

He pushed another chair forward with his foot.

"Wh-why would I..."

"Because you don't really look stable on your fucking legs, and I hate this bullshit already, so come over here, take a fucking seat and pull yourself together."

She made a face, sniffling pitifully before crossing the short distance towards the chair.

"How long?"

She bit her lip, a bitter laugh escaping her as she sat down.

"Ever since I've started working for him."

"Oh wow, that must be so hard on you, sweetheart." Vox voice dripped of sarcasm. He leaned over to her, shoving his half-full glass of gin in her direction with a scrutinizing smile. "Try seven decades, then we can talk."

For the first time her lips turned upwards, not quite a smile, but the scowl wasn't there anymore.

"You're no better off than me."

He scoffed in response, filling the tumbler back up to the brim. She took it carefully, taking a few sips from the translucent liquid. Vox eyed her for a moment, wondering if she would spit it back out. Okay, she wasn't that ugly. Her lips were nice and puffy, pink, a color not that usual in hell, almost human-like.

"Maybe not, but at least I have the decency to not follow him around like a lost dog. That's just sad."

"You're one to judge."

Vox laughed a humorless laugh. "Oh-ho. Have we found our backbone, doll? I actually hate you a little less like this. It gets boring, the whole spiel with the kiss-ups constantly trying to lick Alastor's boots... or anything else."

"He never notices anyway."

"Nope. Doesn't notice shit.", Vox takes the glass from her and empties it in one big gulp.

"And still you hate me."

"Of course I fucking hate you."

"Why? Because you want him for yourself? Because you can't stand it that someone else wants him? That I want him?"

Vox snorted, the sound a bit static-y, and she flinched.

"Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart, I don't give a fuck about what you want. He doesn't give half a shit about you. He doesn't want you - End of the story. But if he did, he'd deserve much better than you. You're a whiny little bitch, you follow him like a kicked puppy, and you're a fucking annoyance. Al can do better than that."

Her wet eyes burned with fury. Huh. The bitch had a little bite in her after all, good to know.

"Fuck you, you're no better. You're an arrogant, narcissistic, stuck-up prick, you think everyone loves you and worships the ground you're walking on, you act all high and mighty, you're a bully, a control freak and a manipulative asshole."

He had to admit, she hit a few bullet points herself. But that didn't mean he liked her. He stood up, taking a step towards her. Her face was tinted red, anger clear in her round face. Now that was something he could work with.

"At least I don't cry about it like a pathetic little loser."

She was crying again, angry tears this time, her eyebrows furrowed and a scowl on her lips. Fucking perfect.

"I fucking hate you, too."

"Good."

Vox leaned over her, gripping her chin harshly. She flinched, and a new tear rolled down her cheek, falling on her blouse and wetting the dark fabric. She was trembling, but she wasn't moving away from him. He smirked, his hand wandering up, fingers digging into her cheeks painfully, and then his lips were on hers, hard and rough. She tasted salty from her tears, but there was a certain sweetness, a bittersweet note of her own, and the faint taste of gin. She made a small, protesting noise, but her hand gripped his arm, holding onto him tightly.

He broke the kiss, staring down at her, her lips swollen and reddened, her cheeks flushed and stained with tear marks, her eyes burning with hatred.

"Get on the desk."

He grabbed her and picked her up easily, setting her down on the large table. He grabbed her chin again, and she glared at him, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed, but a deviant smile on her face.

"Fuck you."

He smirked.

"Exactly."

The blouse tore like paper when he ripped it open. Her tits were actually nice, not as big as he was used to, but round and perky. She was panting heavily, and he had a feeling she hadn't expected this turn of events. Well, neither had he, but right now, Vox couldn't care less. All he cared about was his rage-filled desire to fuck this shitty feeling out of his system and the invitingly wet stain on her panties as he shoved her pencil skirt up her thighs, the way she squirmed and arched her back slightly, silently begging him to touch her. He leaned over her, capturing her mouth again, and he couldn't help the smirk at the way she kissed him back, a tad aggressive and demanding. His fingers pushed aside the soaked fabric, rubbing her clit lightly. She moaned quietly, breaking the kiss. Vox didn't waste a second, pushing a finger inside her.

She was hot and slick, and she was fucking tight. Vox groaned, and she whimpered, a high-pitched noise that went straight to his groin.

"Look at you, so wet already. What would Alastor say if he saw you like this, moaning like a cheap slut for another guy?"

He grinned, thrusting the finger harder and adding a second. She was almost dripping, the noises his fingers made were obscene, and it was fucking hot.

"He'd scold me for downgrading myself to someone like you."

Vox laughed as he added a third finger, bending them skillfully to hit just the right spot. "Oh please, you're a mess, doll. Your cunt is dripping, and you're trembling. And still you're trying to be a snarky little bitch."

He rubbed her clit again, and she gasped. He had to admit, her pussy was probably the best one he had felt in a while, and it was definitely the most fun he had ever had with a woman. Usually it was all him calling the shots, the women he fucked were usually dumb and eager to please, and not really capable of sassing him back the way she was doing now.

"You're one to talk, finger-banging me while having a hard-on. Is it because fucking his assistant is the closest you'll ever get to fucking Alastor?"

He didn't give her the satisfaction of a reply (of course he had a good one), but instead he removed his fingers in a swift swipe, ignoring the way she whimpered at the loss. He undid his belt and zipper, freeing his aching cock, his newest, upgraded model. She stared at it, wide-eyed, and for the first time, she actually looked intimidated, unsure... scared. Vox grinned satisfied, stroking himself a few times.

"Don't worry, dollface, it'll fit, and it'll feel really good. And the best thing - if you stop your constant bitching, maybe I'll even make you cum."

He rubbed the head of his dick over her clit, the LED's on it brightly illuminating her core in a blue hue, and she let out a strangled moan at the sensation. Her face was red and flushed, her eyes half-lidded, and she looked so goddamn sultry with her legs spread wide and her pussy glistening.

Vox grabbed her hips, pulling her close until her ass was at the edge of the table, and then he lined up his cock.

"Last chance to back out, sweetheart."

He couldn't believe his own words. Was he really offering her a way out? Why did he even care, he was the one with his dick out, and she was the one that would have to take the consequences of this whole hate-fuck-thing, he'd be fine either way.

She looked up at him, her face determined.

"Alastor always told me you're all talk, no action. Was he right?"

Oh, this little bitch was going to regret that. He pushed inside her, his cock sliding in easily. He was big, and she was so fucking tight, it was incredible. She cried out, a sharp, high-pitched sound.

"Too much action for you?"

She didn't answer, instead she was trying her hardest not to move, her hands firm on his shoulders, and Vox had to give her that, she did a good job of staying still, only the slightest of trembles visible on her legs as she willed herself to relax around him so he could move.

He was throbbing inside her, the walls of her cunt pulsing and fluttering painfully around him, and it was taking everything he had to let her at least adjust and not just fuck her right into the table. He was still holding her hips, the tips of his fingers digging into her skin, probably leaving marks, and he was sure that the force with which he was gripping her would leave traitorous, colorful bruises. Markings, his markings on Alastor's bitch. The thought made him shiver, sending electric currents down his spine as he pulled out slowly, the drag deliciously torturous. And then he thrusted back in, all the way. Hard. Her pussy clenched deliciously around him, and Vox threw his head back, a silent moan leaving his throat as he moved in and out, feeling her stretch and contract around his length, sucking him in greedily.

He felt his body overheat, electrical current flowing through him in intense pulses straight to his dick, adding another sensation to the already wonderful tight, wet, hot feeling enveloping him. He might need a little fix-me-up, it had been a while since someone got this much of a reaction out of him. The room was quiet, only her rapid panting and the sound of her cunt swallowing his cock with every pull filled the air, the noices slick and sloppy. Vox pressed one finger firmly on her clit, making her arch her back as he began circling it, the heels of her feet pressing painfully into his lower back as he increased his pace. His own breathing was starting to become labored, short puffs of static leaving him.

"Say his name", he heard himself demand, the sound of his own voice was low and static-y.

"Wh-"

"You fucking heard me, say his name. Call for him while I'm fucking you, come on, princess. See if he cares."

He increased his pace, hammering in and out of her, the air was heavy with the thick smell of sex and arousal, and she was becoming louder, keening, gasping, mewling.

"Fuck you.", she gasped.

"Wrong, try again."

Vox slowed, changing the angle to thrust right up where it made her shake. He smirked when her toes curled. "Come on, I know you can say it, I'll make it easy on you, I'll say it with you: A. La. Stor."

With every syllable he pumped into her a bit harder, the electricity from his fingertips stinging her clit, and the extra sensation had her shudder, a shaky moan leaving her throat. Vox wasn't giving her any chances to catch her breath, the air was filling with the familiar buzz of static electricity, the screens inside the room began to flicker as more and more electricity flowed from the TV overlord into her body, to her limbs.

"Oh my...fucking god... Vox!"

Her hands dug into his suit, and then she gasped, a beautiful, long, drawn-out moan ripping through her chest as her back arched, her heels digging harder into his lower back. She shuddered, violently, and came, the feeling of her pulsating muscles sucking him in combined with his fucking name rolling from her lips completely doing it for him. With one last, well placed thrust, and her voice in his ears calling for him and not Alastor, he buried his dick deep inside her cunt, riding out his own orgasm with small, careful thrusts, hissing quietly as her tight walls were milking him for all his worth.

He leaned forward, his forearms framing her on the table, and he huffed. Fuck, that was intense.

Her whole body was buzzing with the electrical currents he was putting off, and her muscles were tense as she willed herself to breath, gasping softly. Vox smirked and released a bit more power just for shits and giggles, just enough to make her gasp again, and he watched as her lips formed a tiny 'O' as the currents jerked every muscle in her body, making her walls tighten one more time around his softening dick and forcing another soft grunt from his own lips. He let off after that, knowing how tiring it could be.

He carefully pulled out, watching a mix of his cum and her own juices dribble out of her cunt, and he huffed at the sight, giving a quick rub to her swollen clit to push the rest of his cum inside.

She laid motionless for a second, staring at the ceiling blankly, and Vox was just wondering whether he had actually fried her brain, when she shifted, pulling her panties back into place. She looked up, and her almost human eyes found his digital ones, a very soft, amused, almost fond look settling on her features.

"You are really pathetic." She pushed herself off the desk, wobbly on her knees but upright while she pulled her skirt down and tidied her clothes, putting the ripped blouse back together as best as she could. "But I have to hand it to you - you know how to fuck."

Vox grinned smugly. "Baby, what do you think got me where I am now?"

"Mhm. Anyway- that was fun. Very entertaining, as Alastor would say. Might need a new blouse though."

She gathered the signed papers in front of her chest to hide the gaping hole exposing one of her tight breasts, opened the door and gave him a last glance over her shoulder, an impish smile on her round, flushed face. "I still fucking hate you."

For a few minutes, Vox remained behind, a dumb grin on his lips. He should really ask for her name at some point, he guessed, especially if Alastor planned for him to work with her again.

Hopefully in the near future.

[onesidedradiostatic]

aromantic alastor headcanons for aro-week (with some ace in there as well, because I think for alastor those things are so entwined, it's hard to separate them):

tried going out with girls a couple of times when he was alive, to make his mother happy, but always found a way to extricate himself from the attachment. this ties into his learning how to have complete control over any situation he's in

I wonder as well about whether or not he "passed" as white, or whether his community knew that he was creole, and how that affected his dating opportunities, and his paranoia, his need to be in control, basically his constant hyper-vigilance

got a lot of fanmail for his radio host work, women (and men, but more furtively) loooved his voice. this was acceptable, because (apart from some of the weirder ones) he could use this as a metric for how accepted he was in society, as well as how well he was passing -- both in terms of race and orientation, but also youknow, as someone who is definitely not clockable as a serial killer

although of course we know he also enjoyed company. he'd go out drinking and dancing a lot. was mimzy a bit in love with him? I just like the idea that people kept being incredibly taken with his charm and his politeness and his poise, because he does have all those traits. whether he notices...? (no). I mention this point not so much as headcanon, I just like that alastor as aroace and repulsed on both of those points, was never a shut-in about it. he's always been very lively (ha) and outgoing, and clearly likes being in the company of others... but maybe that last point has gotten to be a little difficult during his time in hell, due to having to be so careful about showing any kind of emotional "weakness." speaking of...

post-death became a more extreme version of himself -- that is, a man on a mission to be in control and create emotional distance between himself and others through the power of voice, rather than having to faff about pretending emotional connections where there were none. very suited for hell because of his precarious political lived reality whilst alive, and because hell is built on who has power and who doesn't. these are rituals he understands better than the strange romantic ones during life

the smile as mask and unhealthy coping mechanism -- wonder if when he was alive people swooned over his having a lovely smile (as well as its being useful to placate and to disorient people who had more violent intentions, and in both cases potentially to lure in victims). so the smile likewise became the most extreme version of itself. the smile in essence as the signifier of someone who doesn't fit into any boxes and needs to hide that fact, both by being mixed race and aroace, but then the smile itself becomes something that effectively owns him, because he literally cannot let it drop, ever (honestly if alastor ever stops smiling, it'll be the biggest gasp moment on this show)

all that being said, surprising connections do occur: rosie, I think, sees through him from the beginning, and she's so disarming (ha, disarming... cannibal joke) that she never feels like a threat + they're both cannibals, so there's a relaxed kinship there and maybe she reminds him of the parts of home he (secretly) misses a bit

I wonder how rosie figured out that alastor wasn't into dating. I think at first she might have thought he was gay, but then quite quickly seen that that's not it, he doesn't even like men much, and she feels like she's been around the block enough to piece together peoples' natures from one of a million other people she's known, so way before she knows the terminology, she knows, and crucially, she never judges or tries to force the point

I wonder how vox and alastor met -- whether vox was able to gain power on his own and this attracted alastor's attention, or if alastor saw something of himself (that turned out to be surface level) in vox, that is, they both wear smiles as masks, they're both presenters, their mediums may be different, but their aims feel similar. perhaps alastor was comfortable enough in hell at this point -- probably in a way he never was whilst alive -- that he was feeling magnanimous towards what must have felt a bit like an upstart. and most importantly, the constraints of alloromantic ideas are a comfortable 20 years in the past by now, alastor can barely remember that this was ever anything that was expected of him, or that others' could possibly feel about him

cue vox falling head over heels, the way people so often did while he was alive, and he... does not notice at all (barely a headcanon). I kind of feel like I don't have much to say on these two, because this blog is already a treasure trove of vox and alastor hcs!

I think rosie is the only one who knows alastor is aroace, although... maybe husk? not in so many words, but he knows alastor isn't interested in those things. nifty Does Not Notice Nor Care (in a good way). charlie i will forever think will at some point do a deep-dive on modern queer lingo and get everyone flags (this is practically word of god canon considering that older piece of art you shared). vox definitely doesn't know. val....... sort of kinda knows but in an evil way. vaggie does not care, but she'd be chill about it. mimzy... I don't think knows, mainly because she never cared to think about his behaviours, as someone who's quite self-centered on what alastor is to her. jeez, who am i missing... angel, does not know, head empty

speaking of angel, I think if he ever found out, especially with where he's at in his journey rn, would be very unhappy in some way about having stepped over his boundaries so often so casually at the beginning. dunno how he'd act about it, but i like the idea of vigilantly (and crudely, and bluntly) supportive angel if they ever manage to get alastor out on the town. more on the ace side of things but i can see him going: "do not try to fuck this guy! this guy is unfuckable!"

(i like hypersexual and deeply romantic angel + sex and romance repulsed alastor as unlikely friendship in my head. opposites finding common ground type stuff is always good)

at the end of the day, alastor living and dying in an amatonormative world and having to orient himself within that by building walls that persist/worsen after his death because of the culture of hell being predicated on who controls whom, veeeeery slowly discovering that he can be vulnerable on his own terms without people demanding things from him that he cannot give (smthinsmthin the hotel gang as the opposite of vox in that sense -- not only that sense, but also that)

also something about imagining his mother hoping he'd find a nice girl and settle down (in the way parents often do, because that's the metric of happiness right.....) and how he never could give her what she wanted, and maybe feels some very locked away guilt about that, which he thinks he'll never be able to deal with because his mother is in heaven, but perhaps in this story she'll get to see what he's built with the people at the hotel and that's really all she wanted for him in the end

OH MY GOD ANON THIS IS ALL SO GOOD?? THANK YOU SO MUCH HAHAHA. happy aro week everyone!! (x2)

[nunalastor]

If Vox stated to die in 50s AND "be in his 50s" this means him and Alastor were actually born around the same time and lived in the same time period

Which makes Vox calling him "old timey" very funny: this man has no idea he's cringing on his own 20s-30s

(also this means Vox actually could been familiar with Al's show or at least his killings)

Vox is about the future and moving forward! He can't keep getting held back by the past and it's cringe!

Anyway, HC that Vox used to fall asleep listening to Al's radio show when he was alive. When Al's voice suddenly stop being on air one day and he heard that the radio host had been found in a grave with other victims of some serial killer he was sad and empty.

And he was obsessed with owning original copies and getting recordings just because he never got to hear the voice of his favorite radio host again.

So imagine his surprise when he wakes up in hell and he hears it for the first time all over again.

And it's him. The radio man. And the radio man demon thing is interested in seeing what kind of demon he is. And he lets Al play with his dials and fiddle with his face. And it's so nice feeling somebody hold his face since he became this awful thing.

And they just work well together because Vox is a simp and wants to do anything to win Al's praise.

And anyway. Cringe times being an Al fan. Oldtimey asshole doesn't know what nuclear fallout is.

[chaoticace2005]

Reasons Lucifer hates Alastor:

1. Annoyed about him “stealing” Charlie

2. Recognizes what a manipulative bastard he is and feels like the others don’t see it

2b. Able to read people’s true intentions, so knows Alastor is sus.

3. Alastor dissed him when he first arrived at the hotel, and Lucifer hates that

4. He just doesn’t like his vibes

5. Alastor is a prideful being, and Lucifer being the Sin of Pride can’t have someone being more prideful than him.

6. Just doesn’t like overlords

7. Got called a “short motherfucker who nobody likes” by Alastor

8. Alastor does have a past of sorts with Lilith and Lucifer knows it

9. Alastor is actually the one who served Lucifer the divorce papers for Lilith

10. He’s way too tall. It’s ridiculous

11. Alastor is Lilith, in disguise, and part of Lucifer recognizes this and is attracted to them, which feels like a betrayal.

11b. Alternatively, Alastor isn’t Lilith in disguise, but Lucifer still does feel some level of attraction for him.

12. He’s tired of seeing the guy’s face everywhere. He’s already gotten so many commissions with Alastor’s face attached ( @onesidedradiostatic )

13. Vox sent him an explicit drawing of Alastor naked for commissions and now Lucifer can never see the man the same way again.

14. Lucifer’s thing is red. Alastor can’t also be red. Or be redder than him.

15. He had a traumatic experience with a deer as a child and never recovered

16. Theories about Alastor being an angel are true— Lucifer recognizes this (and recognized that Vaggie was one) but sees that Alastor has yet to truly break away from Heaven

17. Lucifer is a stickler for cleanliness and can’t deal with the fact Alastor never bathes

18. Alastor’s scent is just really not good for the Autism

19. Lucifer had a traumatic experience with radios.

20. Lucifer just doesn’t like cannibals/serial killers

21. Heard Alastor speak French. Lucifer hates French people.

22. Alastor had a public campaign about how much ducks SUCK

23. One of Alastor’s many crimes as a human was duck abuse. So he’s permanently on Lucifer’s shitlist.

24. Alastor encouraged people to feed ducks bread, which is actually unhealthy for them.

25. Alastor actually spent the seven years harassing Lucifer and sending him hate mail

26. Lucifer just thinks his ears are stupid

27. Can sense true “evilness” from Al (could be malicious intent or could be that Al is working with Roo (the root of all evil))

28. Mistook Al for “A.I.” which he had heard was threatening creators (Alastor is threatening them, just in a different way.)

29. Alastor lied and betrayed Lucifer in an Among Us game one time and Lucifer never forgave him