#mimzy answers an ask

[ask-the-queen-beelzebub]

Y'all are hating on Val for treating Angel wrong when you all look over the fact they are in HELL. THERE ARE BAD PEOPLE. People don't mention the fact Alastor tortured overlords. What did Zestial do to make everyone fear him? Rosie is a CANNIBAL.

[demonic-radio]

If two of them got killed but you could pick one to survive, would you choose Rosie, Mimzy, or Niffty?

"...Rosie."

If the question was for him to choose one to leave for dead, it would be Mimzy. However, it was choosing only one to save. He would rather not lose Rosie or Niffty, but in the end, Niffty was expendable while Rosie was not.

[thief-of-eggs]

I love the way you write Alastor and the way you write Luci. I know so many writers who maintain a very specific stereotype about aroace people, e.g. “Ew don’t touch me, you’re gross and I want to kill you because i would rather DIE then be touched” or “haha this character hates every single type of affection and is snarky because of it” and it’s just so icky to me… like yes some aroace people hate touch but they don’t hate other people, arocas people can have friends

yes alastor is snarky, it’s not because he’s aroace. he’s just a bitch (said with love) and his sexuality shouldn’t be used as his only personality trait,

idk if any of that rant made sense but I js wna say how much I appreciate the way you write and characterize Radioapple :3

Firstly- thank you so so much, this is so amazing to hear!!! It means a lot to me to have a canon aroace character, which is why I love diving into/embracing it in the fics I write!!

100% as you said, Alastor is a bitch because Alastor is a bitch, nothing to do with his sexuality. He’s a bit self centered, a bit harsh, a bit inconsiderate- but that’s just him and his sparkle. Not his sexuality.

And as for the hating touch- I wish more people understood how asexuality and aromanticism is a spectrum! It’s not a one size fits all! It’s huge!!!

Personally, I like to think that Alastor doesn’t particularly like touch due to past trauma, as well as sensory issues. I don’t think it’s all to do with his aromanticism (I think he’s more the type to be indifferent to romantic things, not repulsed by them) But I do think his touch aversion is real, just not stemming from his aroace identity.

And of course, I’m not in Alastor’s head (or Vivzie’s) but I like to think that touch is OK with Alastor, so long as it is on his terms- and I think “on his terms” includes those people whom he’s given either silent or spoken permission to in regards to touching him. Which is a huge difference from “I hate all forms of touch and I’ll kill you if you touch me”

We see with Mimzie and Rosie and Niffty that Alastor is OK with touch- he lets them initiate touch and he doesn’t bat an eye. Which is why I think so long as he’s comfortable with them, then touch is somewhat permitted. He may not feel the same sort of butterflies or attraction etc through touch- but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy it for what it brings to him!

I think it’s a big trust thing, and I also like to think it changes day to day. What’s alright on one day may be too much on the next. But I also like to think that Luci would be 100% understanding of that.

As you said- it’s not just all or nothing with aroace people, and it sucks that that streotype exists. At its core, asexuality is a lack of sexual attraction- but that says nothing against physical touch in general. And aromanticism at its core is a lack of romantic attraction- which again, says nothing on physical touch!

Not to mention, love is such a complicated, multi faceted thing. Aroace people are not incapable of love. Aroace people are not stony beings who do not crave reassurance and human connection. We just crave it differently than others.

[snowyh2o]

It’s currently a fan theory as to why Alastor keeps Husk around, the theory being that Alastor simply likes cats, and spared Husk because his demon form was a cat. So to him Husk is essentially a pet, who he likes to have around to look at, not even to like most of the time (like any cat owner), just to be there, is all a cat owner asks of the cat.

Sure, but like. That’s not what Alastor does with Husk? He literally summons him to act as the barkeep/man the front desk of the hotel. Husk’s reaction to Alastor summoning him, and Mimzy’s comment about how Alastor still has him swinging hooch implies that it isn’t something too uncommon for him to do, but also not something he does everytime Alastor needs something to be done. And even then Alastor has to bribe him with alcohol to get Husk to agree with working at the hotel.

Alastor doesn’t treat him like a cat, he treats him like a reluctant employee. Husk even calls Alastor boss. Nothing about Alastor’s actions with Husk implies he thinks about Husk that way aside from that one interaction where Alastor is deliberately trying to get under Husk’s skin.

Personally, I believe Alastor keeps Husk around because 1) he’s useful, 2) Alastor’s said to have a weird moral code, and 3) Husk went to Alastor to make that deal, Alastor didn’t target Husk. And it probably happened sometime after he stopped hunting down overlords. It makes Husk interesting, I don’t think many people (overlords) would be desperate enough (or confident enough) to go to the dude who’s known for torturing and killing overlords and then broadcasting their dying screams to the rest of Hell for so much as disrespecting him, and expect to get a good deal out of him over just being killed.

[transinistorarch]

(SORRY THIS IS OUR FIRST INTERACTION I'M JUST ADDICTED TO FILLING THESE OUT EHEHE!)

She doesn't know what queerplatonic means but would probably be chill with it.

❝ Mimzy, darling ! Oh, what a pair we've always made ! You sell yourself short though sweetheart, you've always been cultured and well mannered in my eyes ❞ And thats all that matters.

❝ As for "queerplatonic" it means... Extra, exuberantly good friends ! Mhm, and that is precisely what we are, so I think it fits. ❞ <- Made that the fuck up but he's not even entirely wrong.

[the-radio-demon-blog]

How do you act when you’re drunk?

(Sorry, I don’t know if you’ve answered this question before.)

According to dear Mimzy, I act like a kitten. I'm not quite sure what that means.

However I, the Radio Demon, rarely get drunk! Hah!

[naanznommz]

s t I c k b u g a n g e l d u s t

This is important!

Here ya go! (ASKS ARE STILL OPEN!!!)

Truly a important masterpiece.

[jeetlebeetle]

I have Hazbin Hotel AU where demons as a humans, a teenage life. I see Alastor doesn’t like modern technology. Vox keeps teasing him to play the unknown game for a challenge makes Alastor curious, Alastor has no choice but to play the unknown video game. When Alastor tries to play some games, the screen comes up the game character was named Lilith on the computer (Monika DDLC 2.0 lol.). Alastor feels like he is talking to a “digital dating game character”, without realizing its spirit of Lilith herself stalks him through the screens. Whenever Alastor talking to Rosie, and Mimzy, Lilith go on stalking and watching mode through any of digital screens. Alastor cannot escape from her. Muhahahaha.

Omg this reminds me of the Gravity Falls episode with Giffany 😂😂

I love this sm— i wonder if Vox knew it was haunted by a yandere ghost or not. Also Alaator being technologically inept just being like “ah yes, just normal video game shenanigans; this is why i stay away from these things” 😂😂😂

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Chibi Mimzy doodle for ya!

aw how cute! Hello Mimzy!

[e-m-p-error]

⚠️ (for Mimzy, if you’d like?)

Send ⚠️ for my muse to send yours a text meant for someone else

[ Mimzy ]

[ Text To: Unknown Number ] Yes, well, you shouldn't have to go through this alone, dear

[ Text To: Unknown Number ] I'll be here. When you're ready to talk.

In truth, she was a little worried about Angel Dust. She'd caught him crying in the downstairs public bathroom after a mess with Valentino, and she didn't think that he needed to be alone right now. He sure did, but she thought she knew better.

[ Text To: Unknown Number ] Always know that you have someone willing to listen, alright?

[starryeyeddreamer21]

DazzleDoll!

(Velvette x Mimzy)

So I've never heard this one before but I'm actually really interested in it. I feel like they'd have so much fun together but ultimately it wouldn't end well because they're both toxic bitches. My one problem is that who is going to pay for them??? They both want to be the sugar baby! I bet they go out using Vox's credit card. Also Vox's reaction to this would be funny because he'd know who Mimzy is. Would he hate it? Would he figure out how to use it to his advantage? Idk but it's fun to think about

[ask-the-queen-beelzebub]

You know what, I'm bored, Imma just yap about Hazbin Hotel / Helluva Boss theory's, the criticism, and other things WARNING: THIS CONTAINS LEAKS BUT PLEASE DON'T MENTION ANY LEAKS THAT AREN'T MENTION IN THE POST, I DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED

Emily becoming fallen: This is probably one of the least likely things to happen. Emily said she would try and do something to make the Hotel work, but isn't likely to do it because she watched Sir Pentious be redeemed. And Lucifer only fell because he did change behind Heaven's back, not because of his ideas. And going off that, Sera is more likely to be fallen by the Elder Angels or someone in higher power than her instead of Emily. Beelzebub's design: Y'all need to shut up about this. It isn't going to be changed. She is meant to look fun and more inviting. Her stomach is also like a giant furnace, burning food the moment it reaches her stomach, making her always hungry and free to indulge in food. Lilith being Rosie: Rosie is hellborn and was an Overlord while being in power. This theory only became popular when Rosie was leaked to be Alastor's true soul owner. Stfu. Rosie being hated on for the way she treats Alastor: Y'all, Alastor treats Husk the same way. Shut up.

[demonic-radio]

Who would you rather spend time with? Angel, Lucifer, or Mimsy?

To spend time with any of them would be a chore. He would despise being forced into the same room of any of them right now. Lucifer was the worst, Angel was fun to torment but not his preferred source of entertainment, and Mimzy was... Mimzy.

"...Mimzy."

As much as he was upset with her, it might give her the chance to apologize. She ought to possess enough self awareness to realize she needs to.

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Love (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.

Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.

Word Count: 1,323

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.

Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.

He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.

"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.

She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.

"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.

"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."

"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't know what love is."

Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.

"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."

Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.

"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."

"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."

"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.

"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."

"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"

Alastor looked up from his glass.

"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."

"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.

"Actually, I do."

Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.

"Alastor! You've been in love!?"

Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.

"Yes."

Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.

"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.

"It was a long time ago."

Alastor took a long sip from his glass.

"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion

Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.

"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."

He trailed off, taking a breath.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.

Alastor shook his head.

"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."

"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.

Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.

"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."

"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"

"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."

"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."

"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"

"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."

Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.

"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.

"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."

Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.

"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"

"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."

"Then wh-"

"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"

"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.

"I'm sorry."

Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"

"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.

Charlie turned to him.

"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."

"Right you are, my dear."

"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"

Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.

"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."

"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."

"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."

"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"

"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."

The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.

"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.

"Y/n."

It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.

"Her name was Y/n."

[heartsong1994]

Thank you, I was wondering if you were gonna make those characters or not.

Are you gonna also draw mimzy, Baxter, and crymini in human au?

I will do Mimzy, but I will do Baxter when season 2 comes out because we still haven’t seen his VA and I do the designs based on their VAs. If crymini will be in season 2 too, I will do her.

[hazbinhotei]

comforting him.

read part one here—or don't, this also works as a standalone piece!

warnings: mentions of your injury

word count: 1328

summary: After your injury, Alastor refuses to leave your side—but when his rare moment of fear finally cracks through his usual bravado, you remind him that he's not the only one capable of offering comfort.

alastor x gn!reader. guys i physically had to pause while writing this because it's too fluffy. screaming into a jar as we speak.

Life at the Hazbin Hotel had gone back to normal since Mimzy's little loan shark stunt. Lucifer had surprisingly decided to move in, much to Charlie's excitement and Alastor's thinly veiled irritation. Charlie was still conjuring up redemption plans, even more determined now that her father was watching over her shoulder, offering both critique and reluctant praise in equal measure. Even the mess from the explosions had all been taken care of by the King himself, resulting in a spotless, new-and-improved lobby (spare for the suspicious stains in the carpet, thanks to Niffty's cries that he was 'killing her friends').

You had slipped back into your usual routine, albeit a little slower, taking extra care not to push yourself too hard as you healed. The bullet wound had already begun to fade thanks to the unnatural resilience of Sinners, but even so, Alastor refused to let you lift a single finger.

Need something from the top shelf? He had it in your hands before you could even reach up. Thirsty in bed? A pristine glass of water appeared before you could turn your head. Attempt to so much as stand without him nearby? His shadow curled around your ankle before you could even take a step.

It was sweet—almost suffocating—but you knew his attentiveness was his way of making up for what had happened. And truthfully? You appreciated it. You appreciated him.

The two of you were tangled up in bed after a long day of work, warm and content, as you absentmindedly flipped through the pages of a book you had stolen borrowed from Lucifer’s personal library. Alastor, rather than lying beside you, had draped himself across your stomach, his lanky frame folded over you like a cat determined to become one with its favorite sunspot. His long arms wrapped around your waist, his black velveteen fingers resting lightly over your sides, though every so often they’d twitch as if resisting the urge to squeeze.

You had just gotten to an interesting part in your novel when you felt it.

A shift.

Alastor tensed around you, just a little, his grip not bruising but firm. His face was hidden from view, nestled against the soft fabric of your shirt, and he had gone completely still.

“Al?” you murmured, glancing down. “You okay?”

No answer.

His head only shook, his grip locking tighter as if you might vanish between his fingers.

The book in your hands was forgotten instantly. With gentle insistence, you reached down, cupping his face in your palms, urging him to look at you. He resisted at first, his smile still painted on, but when he finally let you tilt his chin upward, the sight made your heart ache.

His eyes—normally so sharp, brimming with mischief—were soft. Fearful.

The kind of fear that didn’t stem from any physical danger but from something deeper. Like the feeling of losing someone, the guilt and remorse overwhelming to the senses.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, voice so warm and comforting to Alastor that his fluffy ears twitched from the tone.

His gaze flickered downward, trailing across your torso before landing on the faint scar peeking from beneath your shirt. His fingers twitched, hovering above it but never quite touching, like he couldn’t decide if he had the right to. His pupils shrank slightly, his static flickering almost imperceptibly in the thick silence that followed. His mouth opened, then closed, as if he were trying to form words but couldn't quite make them come out.

“I—” He hesitated, his voice catching, foreign with uncertainty. That alone was rare enough to make you sit up a little straighter. The way his breath shuddered, the way his fingers curled inward as if trying to claw at some invisible weight, made your chest throb. When he finally spoke again, it was quieter than you’d ever heard it—so soft, it almost didn't sound like him at all.

“I can’t help but blame myself.”

You blinked, before letting out a faint, breathy chuckle. “Darling, I barely feel it anymore. Demon healing, remember?”

But he only shook his head. His smile remained, but it was brittle, barely holding together at the edges. “That doesn’t change the fact that I failed you, my dear. I should have protected you.”

His arms curled tighter, as if physically trying to hold you together, as if you might unravel into shadow and never return. His grip was strong, almost desperate, his clawed fingers pressing into your back like though they could anchor you to this moment, to him. The static hum in his chest buzzed unevenly, a telltale sign of his distress, his normally composed demeanor cracking at the edges.

He inhaled sharply, his breath catching like he was swallowing down something heavy, something unspoken. His head remained buried against you, but you could feel the tension rolling off him in waves, his entire frame trembling in a way so unlike him. The Radio Demon, the ever-smiling, ever-unbothered entity of power and pride, was afraid. And not of any rival, not of any Overlord politics, not of any threat that could cause damage to his societal status. No—he was afraid of losing you.

"You were asking for help right in front of me," he finally admitted, voice thick with something between anguish and reverence. "And I didn't listen. What if I had lost you that day?"

Your mouth frowned at his words, your thumbs massaging his cheeks in an effort to ground him. "That's all in the past, Al. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Your heart squeezed in your chest, warmth spreading through your ribs as you exhaled deeply at the sight of him so emotionally torn. You shifted, bringing your fingers to the nape of his neck, carding through his hair, rubbing slow, soothing circles against his undercut. Alastor shuddered at your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. His entire body seemed to melt against yours as if the weight of his guilt had physically drained him.

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, though your voice held nothing but affection. “You’ve done everything for me these past few weeks. You’ve done more than enough.”

He didn’t reply right away. He simply buried his face against you, soaking in your warmth, like a starving thing desperate for comfort. And then, barely above a whisper—so unlike him, so devastatingly sincere—you heard him say: “I’d be nothing if it weren’t for you.”

Your fingers stilled for a moment, your heart skipping a beat before you softened even more, humming in response.

“You don’t have to be so dramatic, sweetheart.” Your nails scratched against his scalp, earning the softest sigh from him. “But if it makes you feel better, I’d be nothing without you, too.”

His grip on you relaxed, just slightly.

Neither of you moved.

The chaos of Hell, of the hotel, of all the things that had threatened to tear you apart before… they didn’t matter here. Not when you had this. Not when he had you.

“Just promise me one thing,” you murmured.

His ear flicked against your palm. “Anything.”

“Don’t let me catch you beating yourself up over this again.” You gently nudged his cheek with your knuckles. “I mean it.”

Alastor let out a soft, breathy chuckle, tilting his head slightly to press a kiss to your forehead. “You have my word, mon cher.”

And for the first time in weeks, he actually meant it.

Soon enough, you heard him snoring gently as he fell asleep from your soothing touches, a quiet chuckle eminating from your chest at the sound. The weight of his guilt finally lightened, allowing him to drift into the first peaceful sleep he’d had in weeks. You smiled, watching him in the gentle glow of the dim hotel room light, memorizing the rare peace on his face. Within minutes, you followed, the two of you sleeping that way for the rest of the night—wrapped in each other’s warmth, content, whole.