#because I project SO much of myself onto Alastor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ckret2 · 4 years

Text

This essay was originally gonna be in the intro notes on this fanfic, but then I was like, this is long, I shouldn’t put it on AO3. So I put it here instead, but it’s about why I wrote that fic.

So you know that thing people do where they look at a character and go "That's relatable on, like, a soul-deep level?" I'd never felt that toward a character until I watched the Hazbin pilot on a whim, saw Alastor's Asexual Panic face, looked him up, and discovered that he's canonically ace. I'd been headcanoning him as ace/aro months before we got confirmation that he's aromantic—I'd started writing this fic months before then, in fact—because I'm aromantic, and I really wanted to project that part of me onto Alastor.

Because (murder and cannibalism aside) Alastor's a performer and entertainer, seeking out compelling stories and striving to weave them himself, and he's never off duty—he never stops and turns off the spotlight, every word out of him is part of a story he's trying to tell to an audience, and all of that’s like me... and like me, he's also asexual and aromantic. Not ace/aro as in "cold and emotionless," not ace/aro as in "childish and naive," not ace/aro as in "misanthropic and antisocial," not ace/aro as in "no different from an allo character but without a love interest and given a token line about not wanting love," but ace/aro as in exuberant and colorful and snarky and curious and clever and at the same time clearly shaped by his aceness/aroness, and I've never seen that on a character before.

I'm not typically the kind of person to wax poetic about What A Character Means To Me because typically I don't give a shit. I've liked characters. I've loved characters. But I've never seen a large part of myself in a character before—and I wasn't even looking for myself in a character.

I rarely ever see other ace & aro folks talk about their journeys to figuring out their own orientation without the stories being about pain. Feeling broken on a soul-deep level; being forced into relationships or sexual encounters that they felt obligated to participate in; getting castigated for not offering things they're unable to give without hurting themselves; despairing over their own orientation because it means they'll never have things they deeply want.

I never felt that.

I've experienced aphobia, but while many other aces’ & aros’ experiences with aphobia were deep, cutting, gaping wounds, mine were papercuts. I was confident enough in myself and my wholeness and correctness that when I was told things that were untrue about myself and my orientation, it didn't make me doubt myself, it made me distrust the people saying them. The events that taught me I don't want amorous physical touches were a series of goofy youthful misadventures rather than traumas. I never wanted a romance enough that I felt any sense of loss when I figured out I'd probably never have one. Although it took me much too long to consider (much less conclude) that I’m ace/aro, the process was always gentle for me. Partly cloudy at worse, never stormy.

Either through ignorance or through malice, so many aces & aros are forced through a whole lot of pain before they figure out who they are and come to terms with it—and those stories do need to be told and acknowledged. But if the only stories told are the ones of extreme pain, then it's easy to imagine that extreme pain is a prerequisite to the ace & aro condition, a rite of passage all new arrivals have to trudge through before finding their community on the other side. It shouldn't have to be. People should be able to go from "I think I'm Default" to "I think I'm ace/aro" without having to pass through "I think I'm broken" in the middle. People shouldn't have to grieve over their perceived stillborn capacity for lust or love before they can feel pride in who they are.

So I wanted to write a character who has the rare privilege of having it easy. Even though he experiences casual aphobia. Even though psychological and medical communities attempt to pathologize him. Even though it takes him over a hundred years to stumble on terms to describe himself that are identities, not diagnoses. Even when he gets a little melancholy, or a little confused, or a little backwards, or a little alienated—there's never shame or self-loathing or fear of himself. Because those things shouldn't be necessary.

And I wanted to write a character who has basically the same experience of his orientation that I have, because I don’t want to present “ace dude occasionally runs into ignorant fools but by and large has an okay time” as a fantasy or as escapism, but as something that can and does happen—and should happen more often.

There's a whole lot about Alastor that's blatantly and royally fucked up. But that part of him—his orientation—I'd like to imagine that, there, he's alright.

Anyway, here’s the fic itself.

#asexuality #aromanticism #aphobia #about my writing #my writing #hazbin hotel #alastor

248 notes · View notes

dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years

Text

King Cake (2/12/2021)

Alastor sends a hostage letter to Sir Pentious @hiss-and-vinegar letting him know that his king cake is ready. Sir Pentious boldly tracks down Alastor at his secret lair (the hotel he hangs out at every single day) to retrieve the hostage cake.

They hang out in the kitchen, chat, and hatch a dastardly plot to break into another ring of Hell and steal scrap metal.

And there’s an exciting surprise at the end!! You should read it! It’s exciting!!!

Alastor

There's a pompous trumpet fanfare out of nowhere to call attention to a small portal opening up in midair, just in time for a folded paper to drop through.

Unfolded, there's a Polaroid of a chocolaty-looking Bundt cake with careful stripes of gold colored sugar, with the tip of a knife looming threateningly over the innocent cake. The polaroid is paper clipped to a letter made of words cut and pasted from a newspaper, reading: "meet me tonight or the cake gets it !"

The letter is signed with Alastor's KTRD stamp, which begs the question of why he took the time to cut up a newspaper rather than just write the letter himself.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious knows exactly why Alastor did it this way. Because he's EXTRA. Just like Pentious is. In fact, when Penny reads the letter, he's SNICKERING to himself.... until it's a FULL BLOWN CACKLE!

Receiving a letter? Excellent. RECEIVING A RANSOM NOTE??? HAHAAAAA!!! He LOVES IT. Their humor is based on PACKAGED BOMBS, after all. Sir Pentious slithers over to his planner, and begins jotting the information down. Just in case!!! You never know if you'll get distracted. Hee hee.

Alright Alastor, he's going to go take a bath and make sure he's all ready for tonight.

Alastor

Alastor, in all his vast wisdom, totally neglected the most important part of a hostage letter: a time and place for the hostage exchange to take place. He sort of thought that Sir Pentious would message him to arrange a pickup. Someday he'll learn not to assume anything.

At any rate, since he doesn't hear from Sir Pentious, he figures maybe he hasn't seen the letter yet or else doesn't have time to pick up the hostage tonight. If he doesn't hear from Sir Pentious by midnight Alastor will message him to make sure he got the note and that he didn't misinterpret it as a real threat instead of a joke, but in the meantime he distracts himself with hotel business and his other Mardi Gras plans.

Sir Pentious

Yep, it never even dawned on Sir Pentious to just... message him. Likely that meant to meet at the Hotel! Isn't that where Alastor often hung out anyway? It was just easier to meet there anyway, with its strange dimensional ways.

When the time comes, he's slithering into the lobby, still wearing his usual outfit. Should he have dressed up? WELL, there was nothing about dressing up so... Anyway here he is, tongue flicking and all. Slimther slimther.

Alastor

It's not going to be hard to find Alastor—just follow the sound of accordions and loud French singing. He's been playing almost nothing but this song for over a week. Seriously, he's got a dozen different versions of this song.

He's taken over the hotel lounge with various sewing junk: colorful fringes made of scrap fabric, scissors, half-hemmed squares of fabric. At the moment, he's attaching strings of pearls to a fancy-looking dark blue-green coat.

Sir Pentious

Oh! Look at THAT! His eyes widen, ALL of them, and he *beams*, all of his sharp yellow teeth gleaming. A party! Le Carnaval est commencé! He's going to slither in more fully, as he takes in a *deep breath*.....

"*JOYEUX CARNAVAL, MON AMI!!!*" Yes, nothing like screaming during festivities.

Alastor

Alastor starts and jumps out of his seat—oh, Sir Pentious is *here*—and hollers back, "Joyeux carnival!" Why is he hollering, they're in the same room. He tosses down his project and prances across the room to Sir Pentious, half dancing to his music before he finally stops it so they can talk properly. "Look at you, tracking me down in my secret lair—some hostage-taker I am! That'll teach me to send ransom notes."

Sir Pentious

"WELL, YOU COULD BE BETTER AT IT IF YOU INCLUDED A MEETING PLACE AND A MORE APPROXIMATE *TIME*, BUT ALL YOU SSSAID WAS MEET YOU AT MIDNIGHT! WHERE ELSE WOULD I CONCLUDE TO GO?" He lids his eyes, smirking, "ROSIE'SSSS? I THINK NOT!"

They can tease each other about that. *It's allowed.* He straightens his posture and gestures about, "YOU'VE DONE A VERY GOOD JOB DECORATING! BUT I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED AS MUCH FROM A SHOWMAN SSSUCH AS YOURSSSSELF!"

Alastor

"Well—! I thought we were going to arrange a time and place. I didn't want to say 'let's meet at so-and-so,' I didn't know what your availability was. Say, what kind of a victim of a terrifying kidnapping doesn't go and *ask* when and where to meet for an exchange?" Tisk tisk.

He surveys his mess. "Oh, yes—I'm not finished. Most of this decoration is for *me*, believe it or not!" He picks up a battered leather coat, onto one side of which he's messily sewn about half of the colorful fringes that are scattered around the room; and then tosses it back down. "I always start preparing too late, I never figure out what I'm doing for Mardi Gras until the last minute!"

There's a ding like an elevator arriving. "Ah! But you're not here for costumes, you're here for a cake!"

Sir Pentious

.... OH it's for a COSTUME? And here Sir Pentious thought Alastor was decorating.... He kind of looks sheepish a moment, then clears his throat. The reminder of cake has him smiling again.

"YES!! I ENJOYED THE PHOTOGRAPH VERY MUCH, IT LOOKSSS TASTY. I AM EAGER TO TRY IT."

Alastor

"Then by all means!" He leads Sir Pentious toward the kitchen.

"Do you want to try it here? Hard to play the whole king cake game without enough participants to eat the whole thing at once, but! There's no reason you can't eat it bit by bit, really."

Sir Pentious

.... He makes a face......................

"I DON'T WANT TO *SHARE* MY CAKE....." Squint, "I WILL EAT IT WITH *YOU*, BUT IT'SSS MY CAKE!" A real gentleman, truly.

Alastor

"All right! It might take you a few days to find the winning slice, then. But hey! That guarantees you'll be the one to get it!" It's not the traditional way to play, but they're celebrating a Catholic holiday in Hell, who gives a fuck about tradition.

Sir Pentious

Who gives a FUCK indeed. He purrs, and gives Alastor's shoulder a *squeeze.*

"I IMAGINE IT MUSSST HAVE BEEN DIFFICULT TO MATCH MY SPECIFICATIONSSS, BUT YOU WOULD BE THE MAN TO DO IT!"

Alastor

He leans into the squeeze and beams at the praise. "I worked it out! It *was* a challenge, but I'm proud of the results! Just don't eat the cake in the dark."

Sir Pentious

Blink.

"WHY? THAT SSSOUNDSSS OMINOUSS."

Alastor

"What, do you want me to ruin the surprise?" The sweetest, most innocent smile.

He manages to maintain it for a couple of seconds before he cracks and laughs at himself. "Ha! No, I'm kidding, I haven't done anything to it, there's nothing you need to worry about—but you *do* need to eat it with the lights on."

Sir Pentious

He makes a RATTLING sound, face VERY close to Alastor's before he pulls back, "YOU GOT MY HOPESSS UP FOR SSSOMETHING, ALASSSTOR! BUT A TASSSSTY TREAT WILL HAVE TO DO. WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE SSSOME WITH ME? I HAVEN'T BROUGHT ANYTHING MYSELF."

Alastor

"I don't tamper with friends' food." He tilts up his chin, as if turning his nose up at the very *thought* of such a thing.

Here's the kitchen and there's the cake, under a little lid to keep it fresh; he removes the lid with a flourish. It looks like the picture. Sans the knife hanging over it. "Oh, maybe a bite or two if you don't want your whole slice, but I don't really like cake." Says the guy who's been constantly baking cakes for the last week and a half. "Anyway! It's designed to be cut into eight sections, you can see from the ridges formed by the cake pan. Take whatever slice you want."

Sir Pentious

Hmmm.... Alastor doesn't like cake! Penny squints at him.

"YOU KNOW WHY YOU DON'T LIKE CAKE? BECAUSE YOU DON'T LIKE TEA. IF YOU LIKED TEA, YOU'D BE MORE CULTURED." He's got the shit eating GRIN. THIS MAN IS IN A GOOD MOOD.

He takes a plate, then a slice.... What does this cake taste like? Time to take a bite and find out!

Alastor

"Oh, is that the reason! Is that why it is! That's the cause and effect chain, enjoying tea causes you to enjoy cake." He elbows Sir Pentious lightly as he passes on the way to a cabinet. "You're lucky I'm not cultured, then. It's more cake for you." He grabs a bag of homemade jerky out of a cabinet—see, he's eating something too—and plops down in a chair near Sir Pentious.

The cake is, unsurprisingly, chocolate—but with a slight citrusy flavor mixed in. Although it was clearly made in a Bundt cake pan, Alastor took the trouble to slice it in half and add an extra layer of chocolate frosting in the middle, with additional colored sugar dyed black mixed into the frosting that makes it shimmer a little.

Alastor watches intensely as Sir Pentious takes his first few bites of the cake; but he loses interest after a few seconds and monches his jerky.

Sir Pentious

Alastor losing interest in watching Pentious eat? THE NERVE!

Sir Pentious is DELIGHTED by the flavor, and he's actually humming out "Mmmm"s as he eats it, eyes closed in pleasantness.

He's doing that thing where he rubs a cheek while he chews. Yumby.

Alastor

HAHA NEVER MIND it's cute and now he's interested again. "I take it you like it!"

Sir Pentious

"I DO, YOU ALWAYSSSS FIND A WAY TO OUTDO YOURSELF. HOW DID YOU COME BY THESE INGREDIENTSSSSS? HAVE HELP SSSSECURING THEM?" He gently dabs ( <:dab:618107764211712020> ) a napkin to his mouth.

Alastor

"All box mix, actually! Chocolate and lemon. I got them at one of those upscale grocery stores where the demon nobility goes, they've got a fairly well-stocked section of mortal realm imports. It just takes a couple of substitutions from the box recipe."

Sir Pentious

"HMMMM.... BOX RECIPES, HMMM...." He's going to eat more of his slice. It is rather filling.

"WE SHOULD HAVE TEA! OR, *I* SHOULD HAVE TEA."

Alastor

On his feet! "We've got *some* running around. What kind?" He opens a cabinet and pushes aside like five varieties of coffee looking for tea behind it.

Sir Pentious

"EARL GREY." He swivels his head to watch Alastor dig around.

Alastor

“Earl Grey,” Alastor muttered. He shoved aside a half dozen boxes of herbal tea. “Ah-ha! Here we are!” He retrieved the tea triumphantly, then went looking for the other supplies they’d need.

Once he had the water heating on the stove, he plopped down next to Sir Pentious again. “What teas *do* you like? Besides Earl Grey.”

Sir Pentious

His tongue wiggles as he thinks, and he begins cutting another piece of the slice with his fork.

"ENGLISH BREAKFAST!" Prr prr prr. "HAVE YOU HAD IT? NO OF COURSE NOT. IT HAS A SWEET, ALMOST FRUITY TASTE TO IT."

Alastor

“I’ve had it! At some point. As I recall, it tasted quite a bit like tea.” He smirked. “I’m not a fan of sweetness, either.”

Sir Pentious

"BOTTOM OF THE POT, *GRAINY* BLACK COFFEE FOR YOU ONLY, EH? HOW *DO* YOU SURVIVE." Snort, "OH RIGHT! DEAD, TOO! NYAAAA HA HAAAAAAA!"

Alastor

With great dignity, Alastor said, “I drink the *highest quality* of coffee. Look at this.” He leaned back in his chair to open the cabinet and point at a coffee bag with a skull and crossbones on it. “Look at that! This is almost pure caffeine!” Studio laughter. “But seriously! I have a refined palate, and it applies as much to coffee as it does to anything else.”

Sir Pentious

"ALASSSTOR, YOU EAT PEOPLE, HOW REFINED CAN IT GET? OR IS IT SSSSIMPLY SSSO BECAUSE YOU SSSAY IT ISS?"

Alastor

“I don’t eat people because I have *low standards.* If I had low standards, I’d be willing to choke down whatever hellish fauna’s ground-up offal is used to make the patties in fast food joints.” He sticks out his tongue, bleh. “I eat people because my standards are *high.* The simple fact is that quality ingredients are hard to get in Hell, and meat is no exception! Hell’s native game is *incredibly* difficult to hunt—and not particularly delectable, at that. Imported meat is expensive, rare, and often spoiled when you get it from the long trip to Hell. On the other hand, sinner meat is flavorful, *much* easier to hunt, self-replenishing, and comes in varieties that taste very similar to familiar mortal domesticated animals. I’ve *discussed* it on my *blog.*” He says this all self-importantly.

Sir Pentious

HEE HEEEEEE! He's giggling to himself while Alastor goes on his rant. It IS very informative, and he's certain he's read that before.

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! THOUGH ONLY IN HELL COULD IT BE ARGUED IN THAT MANNER! CANNIBALS ARE NOT WELL REGARDED IN THE LIVING WORLD."

Alastor

“Well of course not, cannibals in the living world kill people! Cannibals in Hell only *inconvenience* people.” He started counting off on his fingers: “Now, granted, almost all the premortem cannibals I’ve talked to have been Americans—that’s what you’ve got in the area—but generally they were eating people for one of four reasons: starvation; hatred; a fetish; or Catholicism.” Studio laughter. “That’s a communion joke for you—but the first three reasons stand. Plenty of postmortem cannibals started for one of those three reasons, sure—but more than you’d think got into it for the culinary convenience of it! Especially if they’re buying from the butcher instead of doing the hunting themselves.”

Sir Pentious

Alastor you probably intended that communion joke to be a fly by or maybe a light chortle, but Sir Pentious was also a catholic, and instead of just snorting, he launches into a full fledged WAAAAAH HAHAHAAAAAAA at the joke.

"*CATHOLICISM!!!!*" Look at him clap his hands together. Glee. He loves a groaner.

Alastor

He politely pauses for the uproarious laughter. A comedian is never going to complain when his audience finds his joke *more* funny than he expected them to—especially if he’s performing in front of his favorite audience.

Sir Pentious

Don't mind him, wiping tears from his eyes at that one. Fuck catholics!

"APOLOGIESSS, YOU WERE SSSAYING?"

Alastor

“Oh... I didn’t have anything to add to the point. Just the differences between antemortem and postmortem cannibalism.” A shrug.

He takes advantage of the slight lull in the conversation to hover over a teapot and the box of Earl Grey to set in front of Sir Pentious. Here, dump your own tea in, Alastor sucks at tea prep.

Sir Pentious

He's going to do just that, humming as he does. None of that 10 second steeping!!! DISGUSTING..

Once the bags are in, be gets back to finishing off his slice. No prizes in that one!

Alastor

And Alastor returns to his jerky. Ah, a moment of peaceful, companionable silence—haha just kidding. When it’s obvious neither of them is about to say something else, Alastor starts playing a peppy march.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious is *happy* for it, though he attempts to change the channel by flicking Al's ear tuft.

Alastor

That’s not a dial, but he gets what Sir Pentious is attempting to do. The music switches from a march to the Mysterious Axman’s Jazz.

Sir Pentious

PREFERABLE.

Sir Pentious purrs, and once the tea has brewed long enough, he's going to pour himself a cup.

And then DIP some cake in it, HEE HOO we're living wildly.

Alastor

"I see why a tea-drinking man of *culture* also eats cake. So they go together, do they?”

Sir Pentious

"OH, SHUT UP, BEAN GUZZLER." Says the Leaf Drinker. He's laughing.

Alastor

“Oh, am I the one here who consumes beans! Where do you think chocolate comes from?” He’s laughing too.

Sir Pentious

"*COFFEE* BEAN GUZZLER!!! BUT, AH, TOUCHE."

He's done eating cake for now, and he's sipping the rest of the tea. He can handle the bits of crumb, he did this to himself.

"SSSO AFTER THISSSS, BACK TO YOUR COSTUME MAKING?"

Alastor

A long, *long* tired sigh. “Probably. I’ve only got—it’s still Friday, right?” He tilts his head, as if he’s *listening* for the time. “Yes, Friday—so, two days until the ball that one costume’s for. And the fancier costume, at that. Although I might need a break, my productivity is plummeting.”

Sir Pentious

Tongue flick.

"OHHH, DON'T YOU WISH YOU WERE A SNAKE LIKE ME? MY MIND CONSTANTLY IN A STATE OF *FLUX* OVER IDEAS AND INSSSSSPIRATION!" HEEHOOHEE

Alastor

“Ideas, I’ve got. It’s the inspiration I’m missing. Inspiration and patience for the repetitive bits. I’ve been sewing pearls for *days.*” He laces his fingers to stretch his poor aching hands and mutters, “I should delegate this.”

A bright smile! “Is that your way of subtly hinting that you’ve got some recent inspiration you’re dying to share, or are you going to disappoint me?”

Sir Pentious

Oh, he HAS inspiration alright. He leans in closer, his Pentious Breath right in Al's face.

"YESSS, INDEED. YOU SSEEE, I'VE COME INTO A SSSPOT OF *KNOWLEDGE.* I'VE HEARD THAT LOO LOO LAND, YOU KNOW, THE AMUSEMENT PARK IN THE GREED RING? IT'SSS BEEN BLOWN TO SSSMITHEREENSSS. LOTSSS OF METAL JUSSST FOR THE *TAKING.* WHILE I HAVE IDEASSS, I DON'T HAVE MUCH TERRITORY AND ACCESS TO METALSSS IN HELL." He sits back, "ALASSS, I'VE NO WAY TO *GET* TO THE DAMN PLACE. NOT ENOUGH POLITICAL SSSWAY, AS IT WERE. NOT SSSINCE I ARRIVED IN HELL, ANYWAY."

Alastor

Smells like tea and cake.

Alastor blinks in surprise. "Lucifer's park?" Who would fuck with Lucifer's park—? "Oh, no—Greed ring. The knock off."

That sounds like a solvable problem. Alastor leans forward, chin propped up in his hand, grinning wider. "Well, I wouldn't be much of a dancer if I didn't have sway!"

His mind is already working—what's an amusement park going to have in it? Roller coasters? Elaborate moving games? Lots of good mechanical bits and bobs, no doubt. And this Sir Pentious isn't the only one Alastor knows who'd benefit from those supplies. "If I get you in there, I get to salvage anything *you* don't want. Sound fair?"

Sir Pentious

"WELL, YESSS, NOT LYU LYU LAND. LOO LOO LAND!"

HMMMM? He leans closer. Their faces could be TOUCHING.

"AND WHAT NEED HAVE YOU FOR SSSSSCRAP, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

“*Lyu Lyu.*” Wheeze. Is that how it’s pronounced? “*I* don’t need it. But the other you that’s been around lately does, and I promised I’d help him get fresh materials at a discount. No better discount than free!”

Their faces ARE touching. Alastor closes the last little distance to squish their cheeks together and flings an arm around Sir Pentious’s shoulders. “Now, this is your little expedition—you’re putting in the research and the labor, so of course you get first pick, I’m not going to ask you to hand over any of the good stuff to an alternate who isn’t even coming along. But! Anything you *don’t* want, I don’t see any harm in hauling it over to him and asking whether he can make use of it!”

Sir Pentious

Ah, the CHEEK SMOOSH. Cheeks can smoosh other cheeks!!! Sir Pentious puts his own arm around Alastor, and Grins wide.

"AH, WHAT A *GOOD SSSSAMARITAN* YOU ARE, ALASSSTOR!" Hee hoo. His tongue flicks in thought..... No maybe don't tease him right now.

"VERY WELL, THEN! WHATEVER I DON'T WANT, YOU CAN HAVE! ANOTHER QUESTION IS METHOD OF *RETRIEVAL.* ARE WE RELYING ON YOUR FRIEND HENTAI FOR THAT?"

Alastor

“You know me! Utterly selfless! The most helpful man you’ll meet!” He knows he’s left himself wide open for teasing. He’s very grateful Sir Pentious didn’t take the opportunity.

“With the airship still out of commission, I suppose we’ll have to, won’t we?” He pokes Sir Pentious, “That’ll be the other way you pay me—bring snacks for me. Working with Hentai is hungry work.”

Sir Pentious

SNORT.

"WHAT TO BRING FOR THE MAN WHO HATES EVERYTHING! NO SWEETS, NO TEA! ONLY FISTFULS OF MEAT!"

Alastor

A scandalized hand over his heart. “Sweet and tea are the *only* things I hate! Have you ever seen me turn down one of your sandwiches? *Really,* now.” He pokes Sir Pentious’s arm. “Are you just having fun at my expense, or do you really think my tastes are that limited?”

Sir Pentious

"WHY *ALASSSTOR*, WHEN HAVE I *EVER* HAD FUN AT YOUR EXPENSE?" He's saying it ever so dramatically, very sarcastic as he even winks AND nudges him.

"SSSSANDWICHESSS IT ISSSS. SSSTILL NO ALCOHOL, MMM?"

Alastor

The most *dramatic* eye roll. He arches his brows and tilts his head to get more eye rolling in.

“Oh, social drinks are fine right now—but I don’t think alcohol mixes well with moving heavy metal or communing with eldritch deities. Maybe once our work is finished.”

Sir Pentious

He's beaming suddenly, and he gives Al a KISS on the forehead before backing up.

"A *DEAL!* ALTHOUGH, I MAY REFRAIN FROM ALCOHOL AS WELL. PERHAPSSSS GINGEMBRE INSSSTEAD!" GOLLY he's in a good mood. Look at him smiling!

Alastor

Hold on, give Alastor a second, fireworks are going off behind his forehead and he’s trying to enjoy the show.

“What is that, some kind of ginger ale?” His brain translates *gingembre* as plain old *ginger,* and he doubts Sir Pentious is suggesting that a chunk of root is an adequate substitute for alcohol. “Sure! We can drink while we work that way.”

Sir Pentious

Prrr prrr.

"YESSS, GINGER ALE! I HAVE A REFRIGERATOR ABOARD THE AIRSHIP, KEEPSSSS THEM PRACTICALLY *FROZEN.* YOUR LIPSSS WILL SSSTICK TO THE BOTTLES, NYA HA HAAAAAAA!"

He's finished off his tea! Pours himself another cup...

Alastor

Static static.

“Now that sounds like a trap! I guess the only way to find out for sure is to try one, isn’t it!”

He gives Sir Pentious enough space to drink his tea—but, as long as he’s already over here, decides to keep leaning their shoulders together.

Sir Pentious

He's fine with this, he's still purring in that terrifying way. Habby.

"SSSO WHO ARE YOU DANCING WITH TO GET US INTO THE GREED RING, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

“Oh, I’ve got a few people I can call on! I hear Paimon’s been looking for a way to spite Mammon; Stolas is usually pretty lax with sinners, he’s easy to bargain with; perhaps Tommy, he owes me one... I’ll narrow it down!”

Sir Pentious

HMM! Exciting. Sir Pentious is about to SPEAK when his phone VIBRATES against his breast. OH!

Time to grab his phone and INVESTIGATE....

Alastor

Time to lean over and EAVESDROP.

Sir Pentious

Well, he's obscured the screen enough from Alastor, but....

```Congratulations on your imminent fatherhood, Sir Pentious. Please come collect your wife at your earliest convenience. Which had better be now.```

OH. OH. GASP. JELLY EYES. All of his eyes are JELLY EYES. Look at this man, he's looking like he might COLLAPSE!

"*OHHHH* I HAVE TO *GOOOO*!"

He's STILL holding the phone but, YOU KNOW. He's going to show the screen to Alastor, listen that's his best friend he wants him to KNOW!

Alastor

*Oh!!* Alastor grabbed Sir Pentious’s arm. “*Really* this time? Not unfertilized eggs?”

Sir Pentious

"REALLY, THISSSS TIME!" *SNIRFFF.*

"WE WEREN'T SURE, BUT HILDA ISS RATHER THOROUGH...." His voice is all SQUEAKY.

"I'M GOING TO BE A DADDY!!"

Alastor

Alastor squeezed an arm around Sir Pentious’s shoulders. “Well, *congratulations!* Oh, you must be *thrilled!* How many is it?” He had to raise his voice to be audible over the cacophony of invisible party noisemakers and an old song that started singing in the background: “—*pretty baby! Won't you come and let me rock you in my cradle of love, and we'll cuddle all the time. Oh I want a lovin' baby and it might as well be you, pretty baby of mine—*”

After a good long squeeze, he let go and swatted Sir Pentious’s arm. “What are you still doing here, you’re supposed to be with your wife! Go, get! Get out of here! Take your cake!”

Sir Pentious

He BEAMS, Sir Pentious is GIGGLING. How many?

He goes red faced, raising a finger to speak, UNTIL HE'S BEING SWATTED! "OH, YESSS, AT ONCE! AT ONCE!"

He gathers up the cake! And he gives a TIP of his hat to Alastor before he's HURRIEDLY slithering out the door!

... Peeks back in. "THISSSS ISSS JUSST THE CONFIRMATION, BY THE BY! NO EGGSSS YET! OKAY, TA TA!" The door closes!!

Alastor

He waves. “Give Valera my congratulations!”

The music slowly peters out once the door closes.

... Hold on, how were there no eggs yet if Valera was already pregnant? He should have asked. Whoops.

#hissandvinegar #chat log

11 notes · View notes

doodle-empress66 · 4 years

Text

Hazbin Hotel: Perma Frost Full Bio

General

“It’s BULLSHIT that I’m down here! Stuck in this ugly ass form! I did the shit I did to SURVIVE! No one has ever watched out for me! So I watched out for myself the best way I knew how!”

- Perma Frost to Charlie

Full/True name: Petra

Nickname(s) or Alias:

Perma Frost, Perma

Perm

The Killer Frost Demon

Kid (By Husk)

Ice Queen (By Angel)

Little Girlie (Niffty)

Young Miss (By Alastor)

Bruja de hielo (By Vaggie)

Gender: Female

Species: Human (formerly), Ice Demon

Age: 14

Birthday: Jan 6th

Sexuality: Autochorisexual-Aegoromantic

Nationality: Icelandic

City or town of birth: Vik, Iceland

Currently lives: The Outskirts of Pentagram City

Native language: Icelandic

Relationship Status: Single

Appearance

Height: 5'5

Figure/build: Slender, somewhat curvy build, with long, dark blue icicle-like fingers. Powder blue skin

Hair color: Light Blue (Normally), Transparent light blue (when angered or frightened)

Hairstyle: Long and unruly

Eye color: A glowing icy blue hue that shifts

Tattoos: A snowflake on her back

Preferred style of clothing: ALWAYS wearing a large hooded jacket/coat that covers the entire top half of her body. Large black snow boats. And navy blue tights

General Past life

Human Name: Petra (She renounced her last name)

Birthday: 6th Jan 2005

Age of Death: 14

Cause of Death: Froze to death/Blood loss

Death day: 23 Aug 2019

Personality

Perma is an intense, cautious, volatile, and resentful teenager. She’ll do whatever it takes just to make it through the day regardless of who she has to harm or fight. She loathes adults and doesn’t trust them or their judgement, and always believes they're going to hurt her. Nor does she like being told what to do. So she often gets into a lot of fights with older demons, Perma will at times rush head first into a fight without thinking things through due to being blinded by her violent nature and past trauma. She has little to no friends or acquaintances because of the sheer brute force of her powers, somewhat lack of control and unwillingness to listen to people. Despite being unapproachable most of the time, deep down Perma wants a kind soul to turn to for love and guidance. But, pushes away this feeling due to the bad hand life and death has handed her.

History

Born in Vik, Iceland in 2005, since she could walk; Petra knew nothing but misery and neglect. Abused and mistreated by her egg and sperm donor, growing up in a strange cult certainly didn't help little Petra. Forced to deal with going hungry and cold from the old shredded clothes she was forced to wear. As well as participating in her mother's questionable practices. Her family often took part in the ancient art of Icelandic witchcraft. Writing questionable symbols everywhere in the blood of animals they caught. Reading from old books with disturbing otherworldly images. Even carving up their own bodies as a sign of devotion to some strange dark entity. Petra didn't understand these events but knew only bad things could come from it.

Life didn’t get much better for the young Icelandic when she was set up to be a sacrifice in one of the cult's shamanic ceremonies, she managed to slip away and ran until she arrived at an old rundown village. Only 9 years old at the time. From there, the next 4 years were awful. Petra had to survive on scraps she found in the trash or steal food and clothing from unsuspecting villagers. Years on the street, being treated like dirt from those around her, a child no one wanted around, caused Petra to grow hateful to world and the vile people who inhabited it. No one had any concern for her. No one cared about her. Her life meant nothing to ANYBODY. So after that, the lives of others didn’t mean a damn thing to her.

At 11, Petra committed her first murder. She was low on scraps and slowly starving. Following a frail elderly woman with a bag full of food, Petra took out an ice pick she had swiped from some workers and drove it into the back of the woman’s head.

Soon after, the dreaded streets Petra wandered were now becoming littered with the bodies of the people she stole from. Little did she realize, these malicious acts were changing in ways that were beyond human understanding. Something malevolent and cold started growing inside her body. Warping her soul.

Two years, this continued...until Petra chose the wrong target. A lanky young man, who looked a few years older than her, was smoking in an alley. Driven by survival, bloodlust and greed to what type of goods the man had on his person, Petra struck with her signature ice pick. Too bad, the man wasn’t unarmed. Nor was he alone. That’s all she remembered from that specific day. And how she wished she just kept walking.

The man was part of a group of sex traffickers looking around for young girls and women to add to their market. And 14 year old Petra was added to that collection.

The following year was a new level of Hell for the young girl. Beaten, abused, used in the most vile of ways by these men and others. Petra resisted at each turn but the suffering increased more and more. Then the vile concoction, meth they called it, they forced her to take each day. Told her that it would make her more “enjoyable company”. Some days and nights blurred into each other. This...drug made her forget the pain, the misery, the horrid existence she was subjected to. But reality came back full throttle to punch her in the face once it wore off. It made Petra feel disgusting and free at the same time. Just like the girls around her, empty shells with blissful smiles on their faces.

She was right at the edge of just ending it, but the stubborn part of her refuse to give her tormentors the satisfaction. One night, while she was getting prepared for a client, Petra managed to break away and shank one of the guards with an icicle she snatched from outside of a window. That kill was easy, but the second guard managed to let out a shout before Petra rammed the spike into his eye.

Petra rushed out into the winter forest, away from the building she was held captive. Wearing nothing but a pair of booty shorts and a flimsy tank top and armed with a bloody icicle. The traffickers hot on her trail with guns and rope. Each day of hiding, running, and avoiding bullets was made worse with trying to fight the freezing cold. One bullet managed to pierce her side. On that night, Petra finally found a small cave to duck into, her feet and hands black and swollen. She was practically a light blue.

Using the last of her strength to make a small, pitiful fire, Petra packed her bullet wound with snow as a sad attempt to stop the bleeding. She leaned against the cave wall and closed her eyes. Thinking back to all the events that transpired that lead her to this. The memories slowly getting darker and darker...

She woke up abruptly from crashing down onto the ground. The teen shot up, disoriented and looked around. Her eyes fell onto a large sign reading, “Welcome to Hell.”

Sins committed to get into hell: Theft, Murder, Assault, Manslaughter, Prostitution (Not her choice)

Any regrets in what they have done: No...depends

Likes:

Doing whatever she wants

Warm food

Parkour

Heavy metal music

Necessary Violence

Beating up adults

Animals

Children

Being left alone

Dislikes:

Adults

Being touched

Limited freedom

Being told what to do

Guns

Silence

Drugs

Anything sex related

Short clothing

Frozen Food

Fears/phobias:

Men touching her/being near her

Being tied up

The sight of her own blood

Dark rooms

Cults

Sexual acts of any kind

Being drugged

Favorite color:

White

Hobbies:

Ice/snow surfing

Brawling/Street Fighting

Reading scary stories

Parkouring

Stealing

Talents/skills:

Great at the drums

Ice skating (lol)

Parkouring

Intimidation

Fighting

Very Observant/ Quick Learner

Favorite food(s):

Skyr (Yougurt)

Harðfiskur (dried fish)

Reykjavik's Hot Dog

Favorite drink(s):

Slushies

Pineapple Soda

Hot Chocolate

Significant/special belongings:

Her icepick

Spiked choker

Combat

Fighting skills/techniques:

Very good street fighter/brawler

Excellent stabbing and hacking skills

Weapon of choice (if any):

Ice Pick

Unique Abilities:

Cold Magic- is able to perform a form of magic that allows them to utilize cold, either magically manipulating it

Cryokinesis- can create, shape, move, control, interact and manipulate ice.

Cold manipulation- can create, shape and manipulate cold by reducing the kinetic energy of atoms and thus making things colder

Atmospheric Freezing- an freeze the air/atmosphere itself regardless of air quality, abundant and trace gases, air temperature, etc., allowing her to either convert that air/atmosphere directly to ice or simply super chill it.

Absolute Freezing- can freeze anything, from tangible targets to intangible energy such as fire, or concepts such as time, even a person's mind.

Cold Embodiment- acts as the personification or manifestation of cold in their reality and has limitless control over coldness and can use coldness in different ways.

Cold Breath- able to generate and manipulate cold energy within her in a way that allows her to shape the exhaling of the effect.

Cold Presence- has the ability to project a field that lowers the temperature around her, creating a constant chill.

Cold Weaponry- create or wield weaponry with power over cold, which grants Perma a wide variety of cold-based abilities, including slowing down molecules, freezing a target solid, and limiting healing.

Cryo-Phasing- combines intangibility and ice powers to freeze the objects she passes through.

Cryogenic Bodily Fluids- possesses freezing cold bodily fluids (blood, sweat, saliva, etc.

Cryokinetic Creature Creation- is able to create beings of ice or shape existing ice into wanted shapes and purposes. She can grant the beings varying levels of independence (controlled, automatons/programmed, semi-independent) and existence (momentary to permanent) and delete the creature once she is done with them.

Cryokinetic Claws- can project and retract razor-sharp claws of ice from her fingertips for offensive purposes.

Cryokinetic Combat- able to utilize ice manipulation with her physical combat, allowing her to both create tools and weapons for attack and manipulate the environment for her advantage

Cryokinetic Cloning- can create clones of herself, others and/or objects by using ice.

Cryokinetic Surfing- controls the ice in a way that increases her ability to move and/or maneuver either by granting her abilities she otherwise lack or allowing them to ignore normally needed equipment.

Cryokinetic Regeneration- can use ice to regenerate her bodies with the amount of ice used defining the speed of healing.

Demonic Ice Manipulation- One of her most powerful attacks. She can generate and manipulate mystical demonic ice, which cannot be melted by mortal means, drawn straight from the darkest fears sentient minds have about winter, ice and arctic areas, including the fears of treacherous ice breaking, burying/devouring, damaging or tripping the victim in malicious awareness.

Demonic Ice Breath - able to generate and manipulate demonic ice within her in a way that allows her to shape the exhaling of the effect. These shapes can include bursts, streams, spheres, even a mist of it from the mouth.

Dark Ice Manipulation - More powerful attack. She can create, shape and manipulate the ice of a darker, detrimental nature; that which damages, destroys, and consumes anything/everything she comes across, representing the hazardous destructive side of ice, which in turn ignores most of the limitations and weaknesses of the normal ice. In essence, this is about solely controlling the negative dark powers of ice.

Frostbite- can freeze up any part of an enemy's body where she can turn the tissues and flesh into solid ice making the victim shatter into pieces due to freeze drying, or cause a swelling making it hard to move for the victim.

Frozen Surface- can cause surfaces (often floor) to emit ice/cold, causing ice/cold-damage on anything in contact with her or the ice.

Hail Generation- can generate and project hail.

Ice Aura- can release and surround herself in/with ice/cold for defensive and/or offensive purposes, possibly becoming almost untouchable and granting her various abilities/attacks.

Ice Vortex Creation - can generate spirals/vortices composed of ice. The vortex can be projected as a long ranged attack or as a tornado of ice for both offensive and/or defensive purposes.

Omnidirectional Ice Waves- can release massive amounts of ice in every direction at once for almost unlimited scales. This power allows Perma to dispatch many foes at once and destroy large areas like cities/villages.

Snow Ball Projection- able to launch spheres of snow at targets with varying degrees of force.

Snow Solidification- can solidify or give solid-like properties to snow-based substances with the level of solidity going from loose jelly to metal-like hardness or beyond. Alternatively, Perma can also harden snow to make it denser and harder to break.

Un-melt able Ice- can generate and project snow/ice that is extremely difficult to or cannot by melted by normal means, such as extreme heat or fire.

Weaknesses in combat:

Intense heat/fire

No control when pushed too far

Turns to solid ice when she goes overboard

Due to her constant chill, she can’t sneak up on people

Strengths in combat:

Wide and short range attacks

Nearly indestructible ice walls

Hidden demon form

Wild unpredictable street fighting style

Can create ice creatures, structures, and weapons

Relationships

Past life Relationships

Parents: Unknown

Siblings: None

Other Important Relatives: None

Children: None

Best Friend: None yet

Other Important Friends: None yet

Acquaintances: None yet

Pets: None but wants one

Enemies:

Anyone who tries to mess with her.

Alastor (Frenemy-ish)

Hazbin Relationships:

Charlie- Put off by her eagerness and determination to redeem sinners. Didn’t trust her at first and kept her distance. Slowly warmed up to Charlie’s kindness and learned to trust her and others.

Vaggie- Disliked her attitude, and authority. Would tick her off with snide comments and constantly freezing her and/or Charlie. Started to bond over their dislike of Alastor and men a bit. Told Vaggie of her life and hardships, now have a big sis/little sis connection.

Angel Dust- Because of his sexual nature, she was terrified of Angel and avoided him. Even freezing him solid a few times out of fear/self-defense. Calm down a little once, she learned that he’s gay. The two became close once Angel shared his own stories of abuse. Also adores Fat Nuggets.

Alastor- Instantly loathes Alastor due to his disregard for personal space and creeper smile. Sees him as a closet pervert and often talks trash about his radio broadcasts and calls him an "a limp dick old man". Perma was unaware of Alastor's reputation, but sees him as a sicko who likes to inflate his own ego and harrass those he sees as beneath him. One of the few demons who doesn't fear Alastor, but that's due to her own ignorance and inexperience. Often tries to start fights with him by crude derogatory comments. Or freezing him.

Husker- Didn't think much of Husk at first, but liked the fact the he's a cat. The two barely interacted until she sang to herself in German and Husk responded back. They slowly began to converse with each other more and more. Husk actually listening to her woes and offering some advice. Vice versa. Due to Husk keeping to himself and respecting boundaries, Perma respects and listens to Husk more than anyone. Calms down whenever he's around. The two soon form a father/daughter like relationship.

Niffty- Was put off by Niffty's persnickety and energetic persona. Also irritated her by the frost she leaves behind. But they grow to tolerate each other over time.

Trivia

Sin - Wrath

Can speak 5 languages: Icelandic, German, Polish, English, and Dutch. This is due to the men she came in contact with during her time on the streets and while trafficked

The spiked choker she wears was a gift from one of the older trafficked girls. It was the first time she was given ANYTHING nice.

Speaks with a thick Icelandic accent

Her lips are dark blue from her cold

Given her sexual abuse, Perma doesn’t just hate sex, she’s TERRIFIED of it.

Perma keeps to herself and talks to no one unless confronted.

She knows nothing about the Overlords or power scale.

She keeps her distance from friendly people. To her, everyone is out to get something.

Perma loves heavy metal, it helps her release the pain and fury she feels

With enough patience and practice, Perma could fight on par with an overlord

She likes animals, they never harm you

She eats warm food, to feel ‘alive’.

One negative act towards her, no matter how small, can set her off

#hazbin oc #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #perma frost #my oc #bio page

13 notes · View notes

toothedsmile · 5 years

Text

The new demon: Chapter two

Chapter two: Some new faces

Prologue/chapter one

Once it had sunk in that you were in Hell you looked around. It struck you that while yes you had seen it already, those bodies just registered in your brain.

All that beautiful death thrown around you, not a single body part was spared, heh more like speared, arms, legs, heads and more of them were everywhere. It was such a wonderful sight for your eyes.

Merely a few seconds after the firework had left, started the demons to come out and walk on the streets. Some were walking around with carts, collecting what could be grabbed easily, leaving here and there some organs laying around for the little critters to take and eat.

Walking closer to a few remains, you crouched down to take the head of one. Bringing it closer to your face you inspected it. It had some fur around it’s face and very sharp teeth, the eyes were rolled back so you couldn’t check them but from what you could see, the sclera was red.

Once you stood back up you dropped the head with a disgusted frown and wiped your hands on some clean nearby cloth from another dead body that wasn’t cleaned up yet.

“Well then. What a warm welcome I guess.”

As your eyes wandered they saw something fall from the sky. It was like a blue insect, sadly enough he fell onto the streets.

As he was happily yelling.

“I’m alive! I’M ALIVE!” He was ran over by a blood red car.

“HA! That’s hilarious.”

Some white…spider? Thing ? Stepped out of the car, they spoke to the driver through the window, after a small talk he got angry, pointed some fingers and then the driver left.

Faintly you could hear the sound of a car crashing.

The spider looked behind them and saw an automat, you guessed that it sold drugs, because of what was written on the front in big letters ‘drugs’.

They bought some and just as they wanted to open the package of white powder it was snatched out of their hands by another demon.

You heard him yell “Hey!” And just after the thief replied “Up yours drag show” he was crushed by a gigantic piece of rubble that fell from the sky.

So you decided to walk up to the spider, with the most kindest smile that you could form and ask some stuff.

“Hello, excuse me.” Uninterested the spider turned your way, with a raised eyebrow he asked the silent question of ‘what do you want?’.

“Ah, I was wondering if I was in Hell?”

They smiled, a bit mockingly if you were honest but they answered anyway.

“You’re right hon! This is Hell. I guess you’re new here, aren’t you?”

Smiling you nodded as an answer. Slightly they narrowed their eyes but went back to normal fast.

“Lemme guess, you’re thinking that ya don’t belong here and that ya should be in heaven? ‘Cus if so, then you better give that up.”

Still smiling you shook your head, your eyes darkening with a knowing look.

“Oh, no worries. I’m pretty sure I belong here.”

Smirking at your answer they decided to end your “conversation” as the sounds of explosions and gun fire came closer. With a pair of their arms on heir hips, they used the other pair to grab your shoulders and turn you the other way around, pushing you further away from them.

“Now, it was wonderful to meet someone new but I think you should go now. See ya and goodbye.”

Then they walked away, leaving you with a stunned look, vacantly looking out in front of you.

Shrugging you decided to explore Hell, a little further down the street you could see some faint lights and a group of people standing around it. With your interest peeked you started walking towards it, as you got closer you saw that it was a shop called ‘Radio Hack’ that had a lot of tv screens on display with the news on.

You joined the group and managed to catch the last bit of the news before the break.

“Or should I say no dick?”

The woman spilled coffee on her male partner and spoke that after the break the princess of Hell would come over for an interview to talk about her newest project. From the picture that was displayed you could see that she was, quite happy for a princess of Hell.

The group remained there, waiting until the break was over. Some murmured about a person called Cherri Bomb and something called ‘turf wars’.

The break was over and you could see her sitting beside the, who you assumed, princess of Hell.

She spoke how Hell was her home and the residents her people, how she was against the extermination and said that she found a more humane way to lower the population of Hell. Her idea? Opening a hotel to rehabilitate sinners.

Some around you started laughing softly, talking how she was crazy and that her idea would never work.

“I figured that it would serve a purpose… a place to work towards redemption. Yeey?” She, well now you knew her name was Charlie, seemed to get less confident once she saw that people weren’t as excited as she was to open the hotel.

Someone new stepped within the group beside you, faint sounds, like an interrupted signal that came through a radio or something else were heard coming from the new person.

You glanced to them and noticed that they were quite tall and completely dressed in red, in an honestly, quite fashionable way. Even though it looked like it came from a few 50 years or more back.

Looking towards their face you could see that they had a gigantic smile and red eyes that glowed faintly in the shadows.

It seemed that they noticed your staring as they turned their own eyes away from the screens to yours. Trying to be polite you smiled softly and looked back to the screens where the princess was trying to convince people, standing on top of a desk and singing.

The beginning of the song (that came for heaven knows where) was calm and peaceful but as she continued it became more beat up, the music going faster.

Really liking the music you started moving side to side softly but when the guitar came your head unconsciously started nodding along with the beat.

And the only one who noticed was the one standing beside you, looking at you with a slightly amused expression. (as much as extra amusement he could show with that smile that hasn’t left his face yet)

Once she was finished it was silent for a little while before people started laughing at her.

The female news anker started belittling her, Charlie defended herself by saying that she already had a client name Angel Dust. The male sitting beside her spoke up about Charlie’s client in a surprised manner.

“The pornstar?”

The female turned to him, scratching the desk as she remarked. “You fucking would Tom.”

A very small conversation later they got breaking news, it seemed that Charlie’s client, Angel Dust, had gone to help Cherri bomb in the turf war, completely ruining everything she tried to save.

As you looked closer to the screen you noticed that Angel Dust was the spider you met when you fell down to Hell.

“Huh, talk about coincidences.”

The guy standing beside you decided to try and make conversation with you.

“How so sweetheart?”

Slightly startled by the voice and the way it sounded, you jumped a bit up, head snapping to the side where they stood. Getting over it you explained.

“Oh, well. When I fell down here, Angel Dust was the first person I spoke to. Funnily, you are the second one.”

Their smile widened, reaching higher to his ears. Your eyes averted for a small second, looking to the tv’s where the princess and Katie, you heard her name passing by, fighting with each other.

Hearing some the same weird noises that you heard previously, alongside another weird sound that you couldn’t describe, (hazbin pilot at 24:11 if you wanted to know) you turned back to your conversation partner, who you saw perking back up, looking at you innocently as if he didn’t have anything to do with the sounds.

“How wonderful! I presume you fell today? If so then I hope you had a warm welcome”

Out of nowhere you could hear laughing, like from some sort of show, like the Nanny. Smiling at the small world play and the unknown laughs, you decided that they seemed like a swell person to be around.

“Haha, that is true. You could say that my first time in hell was pretty hot to see. I’ve been here for probably around…let me think…. Maybe two hours at most?”

You weren’t sure why but his mile just grew even more at your answer, though it could be your little poke at Angel Dust in the form of a bad attempted pun.

Once the commotion had finished around the screens you decided that it was time to find a place of residence. Before that you remembered something that you had forgotten to do. “Ah! How impolite of me. I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Y/N L/N. Pleasure to meet you.”

They smiled and put out their hand for you to shake as they introduced themselves.

“Alastor. And a pleasure indeed my dear. Now I apologize but it seems that I have to cut this pleasant conversation short, I have some things I need to take care of you see?”

Smiling softly you nodded understandingly at his words. He was very polite.

“No worries. I too, have to go take care of some things.”

Saying bye to each other you saw him walk away.

Your eyes followed after him, and the one thing you noticed.

Was the way everyone, every other demon, big or small, moved out of his way as he passed through. No one daring to come close as they avoided eye contact.

Your previously narrowed eyes went back to normal as you plastered a lovely smile on your face when you saw that he looked back to send you one last smile.

Perhaps he wasn’t as trustworthy as he at first seemed.

Chapter three

I just wanted to add a little something. Thanks to @silvernight7 and @putridjoy the comments you guys left were the firsts on all the platforms i have this on and they made me very happy. I’d like to kindly dedicate this chapter to you two as you both had given me the motivation to write another chapter. Not to mention the people who reblogged and left hearts, everything i saw made me melt and i can’t thank you readers enough! I love you all! ~T.S

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin niffty #hazbin charlie #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #alastor x reader #nifty x reader #angel dust x reader #vaggie x reader #husk x reader #charlie x reader #chapter two #The new demon

120 notes · View notes

allastoredeer · 6 months

Note

The way I've always seen radioapple is that inevitably Alastor would mellow out around Lucifer, because unlike every other sinner that would see him fall to take his place, Lucifer is already beyond him. It's the difference between having to worry about everyone and only having to worry about the biggest predator in the room. By definition Lucifer is so much scarier than anything that would dare attack the Radio Demon that he makes him (feel) safe.

And if his insecure ass would just accept that, he'd be much happier. :)

But alas, he's so used to being attacked and noticed that he can't begin to imagine a world where he's not a target. I think on some level he's convinced himself that he likes being in that constant state of justified anxiety.

Alastor has so many issues and I want to study them all under a microscope. I think, even in a developing relationship with Lucifer, it would take a long, long time, full of emotional turmoil and coming to terms with his insecurities, before he even begins to allow Lucifer to "protect" him. In any way.

As someone who also hates being vulnerable, or weaker than anyone I'm around, I project so much onto Alastor its not even funny. To give that bit of vulnerability to someone--to open yourself up enough to allow someone to take care of you, to PROTECT you (which can feel so degrading in some circumstances, in my experience), is super fucking hard, and I think Alastor would have to go through massive amounts of character development before he got there LMAO.

But I want him to feel comfortable and safe around Lucifer. I want him to feel like he can trust him. I want good things for Alastor if only he would open himself up and allow that vulnerability T.T

#gah I love him so much #can you tell I project so much of myself onto Alastor?#because I project SO much of myself onto Alastor #I feel a little insane #vulnerability is hard #opening yourself up to someone elses protection is hard #admitting that someone else is stronger than you is SUPER fucking hard #Alastor I see you #I feel your pain and insecurities #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #asks #anon #anonymous

61 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 5 years

Text

Okay so I got an ask like,

anonymous asked: whose ur favorite Hazbin character? Like your absolute #1 and why?

and technically my answer is Alastor, but Sir Pent is such a close second that I gave my reasons for him too in that ask, and now I’m making a second post about Alastor.

Reasons I really like Alastor but like, only slightly more than Sir Pent:

- Honestly “I can suck ya dick” *IMMEDIATE BRAIN BREAK FACE* is probably the moment I, like, mentally latched on to Alastor’s character, and at that point I don’t think I even knew yet that the creator had said he was ace. It just... I could feel the aceness in my soul. Like that thing where Jedi run into somebody and go “oh you’re strong in the Force, I can tell.” That was just such a perfect and succinct ace joke, and by that I mean like it feels like a joke from an ace perspective. Like it was so relatable.

- tbh half my reasons for liking Alastor are “oh that’s relatable,” which is hilarious, because like... I don’t like characters because I relate to them, ever, but because I think they’re interesting in their strange/different ways. Alastor is the sole exception I can think of where half the reasons I like him is because I look at him and go “oh big mood.” Other ace or aro characters I’ve seen in the past just make me go “oh... okay. cool. nice, representation for me” and then I don’t really care about them. Alastor, though, the SECOND I learned he was ace, something in my brain went “FUCK YES. ONE OF OURS.” I immediately sat down and started writing a character study fic about Alastor being ace/aro in the exact same precise way that I’m ace/aro, and that was even before we got confirmation that he was aro. I was ready to go all in on him anyway.

- Half the reason I like his ace/aro-ness when I don’t care about it as much on other characters is because like... usually, when you get an ace/aro character, it goes one of two ways:

1) their entire character is built around/“in tune with” their ace/aro-ness, in a way. Most obvious when you have the stereotypical “robot/alien that cannot love,” but also seen in “character that is naive and pure and innocent and lustless,” “character that acts like an actual literal child,” “character that acts like a bad autism cliche,” “character that’s too cold or cruel or emotionless to feel love,” etc. And that’s boring, when they’re only ace/aro because the writer cannot imagine a character Like That being any other way, or because the writer cannot imagine an ace/aro being Any Other Way.

Or, 2) they’re written as “too normal,” as in, like, NOTHING ABOUT THEIR PERSONALITY or life experiences or anything seems shaped AT ALL by the fact that they do not share an internal sense of lust and/or romance that most of the rest of the human species not only has, but also is obsessed with.

And Alastor falls in neither camp. He’s gregarious and talkative and puts on little performances wherever he goes, and he obnoxiously butts in on somebody else’s group project by begging for an opportunity to help out and then obnoxiously volunteers his friends who hate him to help with the group project, and he’s manipulative and dangerous and secretive and violent, and he hides his emotions and he disguises when he’s feeling weak... and also the quickest way to throw him off his game is to make a sexual pass at him because he’s blindsided so hard by it that it’s like for a moment there he forgot that sex exists.

And that’s what I want to see. A character whose personality isn’t based on/tied into his ace/aro-ness, BUT we can clearly see his character IS INFLUENCED by the fact that he views the world through a completely different lens from everyone else.

I can imagine that Alastor had to puzzle through What Is Love/What Is Desire, purely on a psychological “what’s going on inside other people’s heads?” level, as an outside observer incapable of participating it and trying to understand it based on anecdotes and fictionalized accounts and descriptions and conversations, comparing it to the emotions inside his own head and trying to go “so it’s kind of like this feeling plus that one and those, but More, and Different, and in that Other Direction.” I can imagine that as a kid Alastor “decided” to have crushes because he knew it was about that time it should be starting, and it hadn’t happened by then, so maybe what he needs to do is pick whoever he thinks is best-looking and get going with the crushing on them, right? I can imagine that Alastor spent his teen years waiting for his desires to “turn on” the way they did for everyone else, and being slightly puzzled when they took so long, but also okay with it because the more he thought about it the more it seemed like it was probably a nuisance—no one around him was someone he’d like to be attracted to—so he was fine with the fact it was taking so long, and he sort of assumed that it wasn’t because he didn’t have the capacity for desire but because none of his peers were desirable to him. I can imagine that he had his first kiss at like fifteen and thought it was horrible and gagged on it, and within an hour decided this was absolutely hilarious.

I can imagine Alastor having all these experiences—which are experiences I had. I’ve never seen another ace/aro character I can easily and naturally imagine having a single experience in common with me. Because no other ace/aro characters feel to me like ace/aro characters. They’re either characters with an ace/aro sticker arbitrarily and meaninglessly slapped on them, or they’re a walking stereotype about lovelessness.

- Besides Alastor’s spectacular Asexuelle Panique™ face, the other single line that made me latch onto him was “Why does anyone do anything? Sheer! Absolute! Boredom!” There are some very specific character types that I’m an absolute sucker for, and one of them is: extremely powerful character, at the top of their game, unstoppable and uncontrollable and unmatched, a loner who likes it that way, BUT they’re bored as hell, either because they’ve met all their goals or because they don’t know how to set any—and the boredom is eating them up inside, it’s driving them slowly mad, the sheer tedium of trying to fill one day after another with nothing to do is weighing down on them, if depression is usually compared to a heavy rain then this depression is like an endless empty waiting room, or depression like solitary confinement, or depression like an unmoving sun shining on an infinite flat desert, the depression of a completely empty hollow life leveled flat by infinite interminable boredom, a boredom they would do ANYTHING to get rid of, a boredom that’s like a withdrawal, a boredom that makes your hands shake and your pulse quicken with desperate need for the drug to stave off the withdrawal symptoms, but god, you don’t even know what the drug IS, you just know you NEED it, some form of stimulation, ANY stimulation, you’re going mad in this empty desert with your hands trembling and the withdrawal clouding your mind—

Have I mentioned that I have ADHD? Did you know that untreated ADHD can result in depression specifically due to chronic mental understimulation? I keep telling myself “bruh, don’t headcanon Alastor as having ADHD, you don’t even headcanon that he has any other traits that line up with ADHD symptoms,” but like. That one line. “Sheer! Absolute! Boredom!” I felt that in my very bones. There is desperation in that man. There is desperation in him that speaks to me like nothing else does. Like to the point that if it turns out that Alastor secretly DOES have a secret evil manipulative scheme going on I’m going to be annoyed/disappointed specifically because his driving motive isn’t boredom, lmao.

Anyway I feel for characters like that. I like to explore that desperate despairing boredom. I like to force them through that understimulation withdrawal, drive them to do stupid wild desperate things to try to get the stimulation they need. And then, when I’m feeling nice, I like to help them find a cure. Usually I imagine the cure is “dude, you’re such a loner that you’ve cut yourself off from the rest of the human race, you have NO human connections, even when you’re technically interacting with other people you’re still completely emotionally isolated inside your own shell. Make some goddamn friends and start to care about other people and their lives and you’ll find that the act of having other people exist in your world who matter to you will give you that stimulation you’re desperately missing.” Because these desperately bored characters are also desperately emotionally isolated. And they might be happy/content in their isolation—but they’re not doing anything to cure their own understimulation like that.

(“Hey OP is that how you cured your understimulation?” nah I got ADHD meds.)

- Remember everything that I just said about how much I love that Alastor is aro? Well forget everything I just said. Chuck it out the window. Bye.

So every once in a while I find a character that, for whatever reason, I really, really, really want to see pining. I want them to be in love, and I want it to be unrequited, and I want it to go on for years. I want them sobbing in private and then hiding it completely when they face anyone else. I want them to hurt so bad they feel like they can’t breathe. I want them unable to think about anything but their beloved. I want it festering inside them like an infected wound. I want it to hurt. Forever.

(“Hey OP do you uh, do you ever, yknow, want them to get their loved one?” yeah sure whatever)

For some reason, Alastor is one of those characters. Why? I dunno. I haven’t figured out my mental pattern on these ones yet. Maybe it’s specifically because it’s so incongruous with his outward appearance/and attitude. Maybe it’s because he’d do a really really good job at hiding it, but also I think he’s probably kind of a mess inside under his mask, and I think adding unrequited desire under that mask would mess him up anymore in really spectacular ways. Like a china cabinet that shifted in an earthquake so that if you open all the doors all the plates will fall out and break, except they’re already all broken inside of the china cabinet, but he’s in denial about that as long as he doesn’t open the door. I dunno, I’m speculating.

- On that note: I feel like he’s probably, like, hypercompetent and super powerful and super successful on the outside, but actually he’s a sort of screwed up dork who’s got no idea what he’s doing. (I present the furby organ as supporting evidence.) I like extremely powerful deeply feared dorks, ESPECIALLY when they have no idea what they’re doing.

- Also, affable villains. Totally friendly/sociable and totally evil.

- I dig his weird radio schtick. Like, Radio Stuff isn’t a thing I specifically like about characters, but on him I think it’s cool. Character gimmicks that can go a lot of ways and that you can do a lot of stuff with in character development are fun.

I think that covers all the important bases.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #meta #anonymous #ask

70 notes · View notes