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victheauthor · 11 days
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WARNING!!!!
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People, please be careful. There are also people tracking children and people and putting bids on them based on their profile pictures on whatsapp, tracking and kidnapping them. Especially young children, so please be cautious, especially parents who have their children as their profile pictures.
Please pass this on to everyone so that they are aware of the danger. I don’t how it is all around the world but I know it can’t just be here so please please spread the word. Thank you.
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victheauthor · 30 days
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love Part Three
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, OOC, spoilers for the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial of his feelings, possible angst.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome back to another installment of A Wendigo's Violent Love. I am honestly overwhelmed with how much people like this series, and I wouldn't have come this far without the support of this community. I'd also like to give a special thanks to @a-witch-of-writing-desk, @illuminaresblog, and @yourdoorisunlocked with this piece.
Without their insight and assistance in writing this chapter, it probably wouldn't have been posted until early or late April because of my workload.
The scene where Rosie and Alastor reminisce about how they first met was inspired by a comic illustrated by the incredibly talented @notherpuppet. I won’t spoil what it is exactly, so I will leave the link here.
On another note, the Hobby Horse mentioned here is a direct reference to the weapon in American McGee’s Alice: Madness Returns video game.
So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!
Reblog to support content creators! ❤️
Part One
Part Two
Cannibal Town was a place unique in the Pentagram. 
Its streets were lined with buildings that possess a vintage charm in which Alastor cannot help but treasure dearly; after all, it closely resembles the era he lived through in New Orleans. Everything in the town fitted like a tailored glove to the charming cannibal; from its automobiles, the residents’ everyday attire, and even how they greeted each other, tipping their hat off or curtseying with a smile. No one is fully dressed without one~! Who could ever think that it isn’t a lovely place to live in, of all the possible places to live in the Pentagram? Just follow Rosie’s rules and you would be fine~!
But the thought of his delightful friend reminded him that he had not come here for an afternoon stroll, nor to enjoy a delicious cup of coffee at a cafe and not even to see if there were any new meat shops open for business. He needed to speak to Rosie, discreetly. 
She was a sensible woman whose establishment, a modest two-story building stationed right where the town’s plaza, offered consultation and other goods for all to enjoy; from the latest fashion trends to comestics to glass displays of ringed pinky fingers, there was something for everyone. No one had to venture outside of the Pentagram for anything. Rosie knew exactly what the citizens wanted and how to protect them. That’s why she is the leader, the one to talk to if anyone wants to do any business here. To set up shop without her permission…well, it was free for all. 
He strode down Main Street, smiling and politely greeting a charming group of ladies who called out to him in surprise, currently feasting on some hapless soul who had walked through without following the town’s dress code. For a moment, his mind wandered to the impossible notion of you walking beside him, your gloved hand tucked into his arm with a parasol raised over your head so that you did not get a sunburn. 
Alastor suddenly stopped. He felt the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably, his face burning, his blackened heart thunder against his ribs, and worse off…his eyes. He felt them changing to radio dials, followed by the unpleasant sound of a record scratching. And all because he is thinking about you, and what he-he did to you! He kissed you!
This is preposterous! Ridiculous. Why are these feelings simply getting worse and not better? Blast it all! 
He inhaled slowly, deeply, through his nose and out through his mouth, matching it in tandem with his stride. By the time he reached the entrance to Rosie’s Emporium, Alastor felt his quickened pulse steady itself and he was calm again. Pulling the right stained glass open, he went inside and all the way towards the back of the establishment to see his dear friend sitting behind a counter, consulting a distressed young lady. Rosie was calm and cheerful as always, dressed to the nines with a lovely smile as she handed her client a business card. 
Cannibal Town was truly lucky to have a delightful overlord reign over them.
When she looked up, ready to help the next person in the long line, their eyes met. He smiled, waving at her. She immediately perked up, rising from her chair and weaving through the crowd. Well, more like they willingly stepped aside so that their leader could walk to him, but same difference~!
Oh, that was a good joke, ha-ha!
“Oh Alastor, it’s so good to see you!” Rosie exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around in a small circle. “I haven’t heard from you in a while, I was starting to worry that you forgot about me, though I could forgive you if you fill me in on all of the details that’s happened~!” She grinned. “I hear our princess’ hotel is finally finished with those renovations, all ready to accept all the sinners she could dream of! Oh, and Alastor, you truly haven’t let me down this time! The angel flesh we’ve managed to bring back? Well, not only is it absolutely divine in terms of flavor, but people are coming from miles around just to sample some~! ‘Course, with our limited stock, we need to increase the price just a wee bit. Business is booming, and it’s all thanks to you, my friend~!” She blinked, tilting her head to the side. “Hm? Is everything all right, old chap? You’re never this quiet unless those little gears in your mind are turning~!”
Alastor felt the corner of his mouth twitch. No, he told himself fiercely. Keep yourself calm, tell Rosie that there is absolutely nothing wrong and you just thought about stopping by to pass the time, not because you need her help. And even if you do, desperately, you cannot say it here for all of the world to hear!
But the only sound that escaped his mouth was the chirping of radio static. Nothing else. Nothing except the memory of his mouth being burnt from his earlier actions. His eyes widened slightly. Fuck. He was thinking about you again! When will this madness stop?!
He did not know how Rosie knew that he was in fact, not all right, but her jubilant smile softened, and before he realized what was happening, she was pushing him into a corner of the emporium. Two fuschia-colored lounge chairs and a coffee table with a tea tray resting on top of the dark wood, adjacent to the shop’s windows. This was the very same spot where she had dragged Charlie to sit down and ask why Hell’s princess had come to visit her. 
This was…not a good sign. He thought as he sat down in the chair opposite of Rosie’s, watching his old friend gracefully follow his example. Not at all. 
“Now, what’s going on with you? It’s rare for you to be the strong, silent type.” Rosie said, leaning forward. “I heard bits and pieces about what happened between you and that angel in charge of the exterminators, but I’m not gonna pry. You clearly got more on your mind than angels.” 
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Rosie has known Alastor for a long time. He’s a showman with all the flair and music at his beck and call, someone who isn’t all talk with no actions behind them. If there is something he wants, he’ll use his charm to get it before anyone realizes what happened. That’s how he rose through the ranks so quickly when he arrived, after all. But seeing him in a state of stunned silence like this…well, it worried her a bit. So she stood up, removing the tea tray from the coffee table with a snap of fingers, and gestured to Alastor to follow her. 
He did.
Normally her clients were more than happy to discuss their problems within hearing range because it was the usual sort of issues everyone dealt with: a bad-tasting spouse, decoration advice, gossip on the latest trends in the Pentagram and rumors about the other overlords, etc. But Alastor….well, he definitely was not going to open up about his problems just like that. He preferred to keep things private, and there was nothing wrong with that in her opinion. So she led them to the parlor, a cozy little room with vintage furniture and fuschia wallpaper with flowers on them. There were enough enchantments in them to drown out explosions from the outside and keep anyone from hearing their conversation. Of course, no one is that silly to be that disrespectful in her store like that, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
The tea tray popped up on the coffee table, landing with a light clink. Everything was still warm and fresh as she poured the steaming liquid in the cups. One for herself, and one for him. Alastor inclined his head towards her as he accepted the tea. Oh my, the poor dear’s hands were shaking. Now she was starting to get very worried about her friend. 
“Alastor, what’s wrong?” She asked, cradling her teacup and saucer with one hand as she stirred in a pinch of sugar. “Nothing will get past the walls, I swear.  You know me, darling. But I can’t help you if you can’t tell me what’s going on -”
“I kissed her.”
She blinked. “Come again?” She asked. 
“I…kissed someone, Rosie. An associate at the princess’ hotel. We made a deal in my radio tower and I kissed her.” Alastor’s fingers tightened around the handle of his teacup. His ears were pressed flat against his head, his face was flushed bright red and his eyes filtered between red irises and radio dials. Oh, shit. Better take this slowly or he’ll combust. Rosie took a sip of her tea. 
“All right, so you kissed an associate who works at the hotel. Do I know her?”
“Yes.”
“Well, who is she?”
“[First Name].”
“Ah, the girl with the metal arms and the giant…hobby horse?” Rosie thought for a moment. “Couple o’ people said that she was wielding that thing like a baton! Smashed some angel’s heads too!” She chuckled, but noticed the deep sigh leaving her friend as he placed the tea down, reclining against his chair with a gloved hand over his face. She smiled apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Keep going. Start from the beginning.”
“....She came to the hotel after seeing the commercial everyone made. We were not hiring any staff. Charlie wanted more sinners to come and try to redeem themselves. But [First Name] was stubborn. She and Vagatha did an interview and decided that the best thing they could offer to her was being a groundskeeper. Someone who could keep the place nice and neat, gardening and landscaping. The conditions Charlie laid out to her were that she needed to participate in the activities and make actual progress in changing her ways. In exchange, she’d be given food and board. I tell you, from the moment I saw her, I thought she’d be another form of entertainment~! Imagine, someone who can’t crack an egg, someone who struggles with day to day tasks because she has prosthetics from the Great War! She’s killed people, Rosie, she’s had front row seats to the depravity of humanity and she still believes Charlie’s dream will work! What a joke! What an absolute fool!” He laughed. The sound bounced off of the walls, sending a small chill down Rosie’s spine. 
Alastor wasn’t laughing like when someone tells a dad joke he finds greatly funny or makes an ass out of themselves. He sounded….hollow. Confused. 
“So why is that I feel so terrible for what I had done, Rosie?” He asked. “She had stumbled upon a secret she should have never known and I made a deal with her to keep her quiet. I did what I needed to protect myself. But I can’t get the memory of how she looked at me out of my mind! She was angry, Rosie, and keep in mind that this is a girl who doesn’t show her emotions as easily as others, and she showed me how angry she was towards me! She was disappointed, resentful, and I don’t know what compelled me to kiss her hand but I did because there was some silly notion in the back of my mind, thinking that it would comfort her! How could a kiss do that?! It makes no sense, what I’m feeling makes no sense!” He suddenly straightened himself up in the chair, and he removed his hand from his eyes….just for Rosie to see the frustration and desperation in them. 
“What’s wrong with me, Rosie?” He asked. “Tell me there’s something I can do to forget what I’m feeling right now or I fear I won’t be able to escape this madness!”  
“I don’t think you’d be able to, my friend.” She said. Rosie knew what he was going through because she had been in the same situation too, far too many times and it was because of these experiences that everyone came to her for advice on romance. “Al, my dear silly man…you’re in love with this girl. And it’s pretty clear that this love runs deep. You wouldn’t feel terrible for what you did if you didn’t care about her, right?” 
He looked at her, stunned. “I…beg your pardon, old friend? I….care for her? I love her?” 
Rosie nodded. “You do. And you fucked up your chance at building a proper relationship with her because of this deal you made.”
“That was insurance!”
“And it destroyed her trust in you. You said she was a soldier, right?” When Alastor nodded, she continued. “Well, soldiers need comrades they can trust to watch their backs as much as they need accurate information on enemy forces. You were her comrade, someone she could trust and now…she can’t. That’s why she was angry with you.” She tilted her head. “But it’s up to you if you want to rectify the mistake you made…or let it be the reason why she may never see you in the same way as you see her.” 
“Then teach me, Rosie.” He seethed, leaning forward as he slammed a fist against the table, causing the tea tray to rattle. “Teach me how to forget these feelings because I do not want nor need to love someone to live a fulfilling afterlife. Love makes a person weak! A smile is a more valuable tool than love! It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures what comes your way, you are in control!” 
Rosie glared pointedly at him. “Mister, you are most definitely not in control. If you ask me, stifling these feelings towards [First Name] are just going to make things worse.” She sighed. “Do you remember how we first met? You were a fresh face, the newest overlord around the block after you overthrew all the rest. But the big, bad Radio Demon couldn’t even find the meeting room and asked me for directions with that cute little smile of yours. Gotta tell ya, you were a sweetie then, though Carmilla back then…well, she didn’t know what to think of you.” She smiled, leaning forward and placed her hand on top of Alastor’s. “Asking for help and guidance doesn’t make someone weak, old friend. And it isn’t bad to feel love towards someone, even if you are an ace in the hole.” She winked.
 His smile twitched. “I really wish you would tell me what that phrase means.”
“Where’s the fun in that? It’s entertaining to see you keep guessing every time I say it!” Rosie laughed. “So…what are you going to do?”
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“Words are cheap, but actions speak the truth. If you’re serious about serenading this girl, then you need your actions to reach her. Keep me posted, okay? You’ve got this.”  That was what Rosie had told him as she walked him out of the emporium, giving him a brief hug and a warm smile before retreating back inside. Now, here he is, walking back to the hotel and back to you.
He had no idea how he was going to face you after what he had done. He gritted his teeth. As much as he wanted to keep his distance from you and be out of his afterlife for good, Rosie….had been correct. Eliminating what he felt would only make things worse, especially if Husker or that pint-sized fool who calls himself the King of Hell try to steal you away from him before he could do anything. 
Shaking his head, Alastor continued his trek through the city and towards the Pentagram’s outer borders, on the hillside where the fluorescents of the hotel glowed in the distance like a lighthouse in a raging storm at sea.
Blessedly the lobby was devoid of any residents or staff when he had returned, so he had assumed that everyone was at dinner or had gone to bed. It wasn’t too late in the afternoon if he recalled correctly, but time was difficult to keep track of in Hell unless one had a pocket watch or one of Vox’s silly little devices, neither of which he had on his person. In an instant he teleported himself to the hotel’s western wing, ready to freshen a bit before cooking up a meal for himself to enjoy in the privacy of his room when he felt a thrum of power vibrate beneath his feet. 
He glanced down, raising an eyebrow at the darkness on the floor before the shadow grinned, showing off a void of bright crimson for a mouth. Ah, yes. This little traitor. Of all the ones he has in his possession, this is the culprit responsible for the crime of stalking you without his consent. 
“Well, well, where have you been today~?” 
The shadow chuckled darkly, rising up from the floor and floated in the air, twisting its smoky body around him like a snake…no. It’s as if this little shit is performing a little dance of his own. But what for exactly? What is the grand occasion? Has someone died? The shadow shook its head, still grinning and conjured a sphere of green flames in its hands. Inside of it, Alastor could see you and Niffty in the kitchen cooking dinner and then the image disappeared, shifting to a scene where the two of you are putting ingredients together for…apple pies? Alastor gritted his teeth. 
He’s gone not even for a day and Lucifer Morningstar has the audacity to make the calls on desserts. Blasphemy! This is absurd! UNACCEPTABLE!
The shadow’s flames then evaporated into nothingness…and in its hand was a single hair ribbon. Your hair ribbon. Swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, he carefully took it from the shadow’s hand, cradling it in the center of his palm. To have something of yours to take for himself, and covet and yearn in silence until the time was ripe was the only method he had to satiate his darker hunger.
To think something as silly as your scent could tide something as fickle as his temper over was baffling, but it was comforting nonetheless.
Alastor’s thumb stroked the worn-out fabric, admiring its crimson hue beneath the fluorescent light of the hotel hallways. Before he could stop himself, the Radio Demon pressed his lips against it. The scent of cinnamon and ink made his mouth water, hungry for more than just a hair ribbon to pocket as a trophy. But like all good things and in the art of being a clever serial killer, patience is key. It shouldn’t be too difficult to lure his prey into his arms. After all, he is a true gentleman.
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Taglist: @rorusena @alastor-simp @imperfectbloodmoon @anielly-2010 @bones4thecats @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @oucx @ang3lofdivinity @tonightwrites @chewbrry @horrorgirlshell @bladeismine @yourdoorisunlocked @no1sillybilly @mentallyunstablenoodle @solandis-does-stuff @facelessfionna @tired-of-life-86 @yandere-dark-cupid @pinkgoldweebgirl @lovely-nightmares @luthefriendlywitch @asianfrustration13 @lunaramune @lanxianschoenheit @zenix108 @solesurvivorjen @kanroji-san @whenitgrowsbright @aconfusedwonderland @candyladycry @ozzersauce @sleepy-hutao @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @swallowtail-lotus @circeyoru
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victheauthor · 1 month
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Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader headcanons: daily routine
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warnings: tooth-rotting content, vibes of a semi-domestic life, OOC, established relationship.
Special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing desk and @vikkirosko for their help with this project. Enjoy! :)
Reblog to support content creators! ❤️
Alastor knows that he is a perfect gentleman with high expectations. 
He is one of the most feared overlords in Hell and thrives in the throes of chaos; those unfortunate souls who would dare to question him are torn apart, their screams broadcasted for all to hear and to remind them why he is here. Alastor knows he gets bored easily and doesn’t like to invest his time in short-lived entertainment, heavens no~! He’s here for the continuous, unpredictable acts on the stage of the Hazbin Hotel, that’s why he’s offered his services to Charlie as the gracious facility manager in the first place~!
Funnily enough, it was because of Lucifer’s delusional daughter that he met you. Through a colorful ad, you were given a room under the condition that you participated in all of the group activities unless you worked around the clock like the hotel’s other resident, Angel Dust. You admitted with a blank look that you did have a job in Cannibal Town, but your hours were flexible. 
 Oh~ho, someone new to entertain himself with, what a lovely day it is indeed~!
That had been his initial impression of you: never smiling, an excellent work ethic, and always dressed appropriately [unlike some people]. But as the months slowly trickled by, inching ever closer to the new extermination date and working with you on a near constant basis as facility manager and part-time groundskeeper respectively, you became…important to him. You opened to him about your services in both the Great War and as an Automemory Doll. 
You had done many terrible things that you were not proud of. Initially you had thought by writing letters for clients, helping them convey the words they wanted to say to a loved one, would wash away the blood you had spilt on the battlefield. In the end, it was a foolish endeavor. 
Your sins could not be so easily forgotten, and you had no doubt that some of the men you had killed were down here too, perhaps wanting to seek revenge for what you did. Your place is here in Hell, but that did not mean you could help sinners in your own way if they earnestly wished to redeem themselves.  
It had been a sudden, pesky thing. The moments his feelings for you had altered, whenever that was…irritating to say the least though manageable. Alastor had not even realized that something as trivial as his feelings had changed at all until the small affliction upon his heart festered and grew, bubbling up to the surface and overwhelming him with an emotion he hadn’t identified before. He tried to stifle this emotion, pushing it far back down into the chambers of his rotted heart and forgetting all about it. Prioritize his hunger for freedom, to free himself from the leash coiled tightly around his neck. But all of his efforts were all for naught. No matter how painful it was to admit the truth to himself, Alastor knew. He knew that this desire to call you his companion would not stop clawing through his ribcage until he was absolutely sure that you reciprocate his feelings. 
He tried to approach you with the intention of a proper courtship when romance was not his speciality; he helped you around the hotel excluding the greenhouse because of his special relationship with plants, his shadows secretly escorted you to and from work, and he used his magic to levitate heavy objects even when you had told him that you were quite strong physically. But you had somehow mistaken his intentions as a sign of self-improvement, much to his frustration. 
When all hope seemed lost, however, he found a letter underneath his door one dreary Monday morning. He immediately recognized the ruby-red wax seal as yours and wasted no time opening it. 
He read the contents, eyes growing larger and larger with each line and his heart hammering against his chest, suddenly feeling dizzy…dizzy with what? Shock? Joy? He wasn’t sure but those blasted shadows of his were dancing around the room, jazz music echoing from the swamp with besotted grins stretched across their inky faces. Love? Does he…love you as you love him? Well, your letter did not say it outright, you have confessed to him that you feel intense emotions whenever he is around you. You were bewildered and afraid and you do not blame him in any way. You just…needed help. His help in understanding these emotions before it drove you to the brink of madness and uncertainty. 
Understanding what love is, even the concept of it is just as surreal and foreign to him. But if words could reach you far better than his actions, then it would be an insult to his reputation as the Radio Demon to simply improvise on his courting methods. So he wrote a reply to your letter, carefully and meticulously penning one sentence after another until he was satisfied. His shadows had the honor of delivering his letter, and the silence in his room allowed Alastor to focus preparing for tonight’s broadcast. He couldn’t keep the audience waiting~!
Hours later, he had a script. He had energy and more importantly, he was eager to hear Vox’s outraged howling once the fool realized yet another sponsor had been snatched from right underneath his flat-screened chin~! Oh, Alastor the Radio Demon was ready to go on air until a sudden knock interrupted his little spiel. 
Confused, curious, and quite annoyed, he made a beeline towards the door, throwing it open and ready to skewer the miserable soul who would dare to intrude on his domain when he saw it was you, standing there with a silver tray in your hands. But what surprised him more than the sight of his favorite snacks and coffee was seeing a smile on your face. It wasn’t a forced one where you’d slap your cheeks and try to stretch them out, it was…a genuine smile. And it was directed towards him. 
“May I join you?” You asked.
Suffice to say, those four little words told him everything he needed to know as his own grin widened, bowing from the waist. “Of course, my dear~! Please, come in, come in~! The show is just about to start~!
Once you stepped inside the radio station, still smiling, that's how it began. His romantic relationship with you, that is. 
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Although you had told him more than once to go back to sleep after rising out of your shared bed at five o’clock in the morning, Alastor insisted on waking up with you. It is his choice as it is your habit to prepare for the day ahead much earlier than your colleagues. He will never say it out loud, but he does enjoy these quiet hours when it is just the two of you. 
Alastor is in charge of making breakfast in the hotel’s brand new kitchen, and that is final. He will appreciate your assistance with setting up the table; meticulously placing the silverware and napkins down, changing out the bouquet of shriveled flowers with fresh ones from the greenhouse, and preparing his coffee just how he likes it in his favorite mug. He gladly prepares your usual morning tea and adds just a little more sliced fruit on your already full plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. You needed all of the energy at the emporium today~! Although you did work here at the hotel, Rosie owned your soul and you were her assistant. You made sure everything in Cannibal Town was running smoothly, including the emporium, should its darling overlord be away from her territory for a myriad of reasons. 
Over breakfast, he would share ideas with you for his broadcast before deciding to put the words on paper. Goodness knows that he’s asked for assistance with typing or refining the scripts mere hours before he’s on the air, though at least he does it with more style than a clout-chasing, mediocre podcast who talks too fast and jumps from one fad to another in pursuit of allure. He hears your feedback with a thoughtful hum before asking if you would like another cup of tea.
After helping him clean up the kitchen, the two of you return to your room. He would read the morning newspapers in his comfy chair, sometimes out loud if the articles were interesting to hear over the click-clank-clank of your Remington typewriter as you wrote either scripts for his show or a daily report for Rosie. When the clock on the dresser struck seven, it was time for you to leave for Cannibal Town.
The two of you exchange words, wishing the other to have a good day and remember to smile because you are never fully dressed without one. Then you leave the hotel, suitcase in one hand and a tin lunchbox in the other. Alastor will also make your midday meals, so make sure to enjoy it to your heart's content. He will not be happy if you decide to forgo taking a proper break just so that you can be ahead of your workload. Granted it is a lovely surprise to see you return much earlier than normal, but Rosie shared his sentiments. Bottom line: take your lunch break when you are supposed to or you will face the disappointed wrath of two cannibals. 
He might have seen that you are more than capable of keeping yourself in the Pentagram, but that will not lessen his protective nature. A shadow will always be by your side when you leave the hotel’s premises, keeping him up to date on your movements while he is helping Charlie or Vaggie. 
Ironically, it is his position as the hotel’s facility manager that acts as his coping mechanism. He will keep himself busy for as long as possible, asking trivial questions here and there. He doesn’t want anyone to know that this…. habit developed because he does not like it when you are not home at exactly six o’clock. He knows Rosie would never keep you in Cannibal Town beyond working hours unless it was an emergency but have mercy on him! If you can't help working late, so be it but please come back to him as soon as you can. It would put his mind at ease just a little if you contacted him ahead of time. 
Once you are home, he will immediately sweep you into his arms and do a little dance before escorting you to the dining room, with a hot meal already prepared and waiting for you to enjoy. He will sit with you so that you won’t have to eat by yourself. Once you’ve had your fill of food and drink, it’s time to unwind for the night. He will play soft jazz over the radio as either you read in bed, or he reads, and you do a tiny bit of work on your typewriter before it’s time for sleep. He won’t fall asleep until you have drifted off first. 
Rosie will tease him about you being his support system over tea, but it’s true. You are the reason, the sanity, to his madness. 
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Taglist: @alastor-simp @frompeach @imperfectbloodmoon @lanxianschoenheit @bones4thecats @22carolina08 @tired-of-life-86 @kanroji-san @oucx @navierkalani @anielly-2010 @victheauthor @the-cat-queen-peasants @solandis-does-stuff @ladydoe8 @nunezs-stuff @luthefriendlywitch @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @kameyo-kumo @yourdoorisunlocked @swallowtail-lotus
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victheauthor · 2 months
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love Part Two
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, OOC, spoilers for the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial of his feelings, possible angst.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
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Part One
Salutations everyone, good to be back on the air~! :)
I understand it’s been a while since I wrote anything, but due to how busy I’ve gotten in real life, updates will be a bit slower until perhaps the summer. Nonetheless, I am committed to writing the best Hazbin Hotel fics for the community so that everyone can enjoy them to their heart’s content!
Special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing desk for collaborating with me on this chapter and helping me bring these fantastic characters to life on the page, and @vikkirosko for being an awesome beta reader alongside @illuminaresblog.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!
The reconstruction of the hotel included the kitchen being entirely remodeled. 
Gone were the cabinet doors that hung from its creaky hinges, the marble floors that never shined bright no matter how many times Niffty scrubbed them,  the mice’s squeaking and an ice box that couldn’t fit all of the foodstuff to feed several people. Dark matte cabinets held the dining ware and bowls, stacked up in neat little rows and protected by glass doors on either side of a large wrought iron stove top and the range hood. The cedar countertops glowed under the lights, stretching from the island in the middle of the room to the small dining room table stationed on the right side. Copper pots and pans were suspended in the air above the island, so whenever it was time to start cooking, Angel or Lucifer would have to pull out the ones needed and put them away after the meal. The icebox was now bigger, stainless steel with a bottom drawer to place frozen items in. 
Overall, it was a massive improvement from the previous one with additional space and a little footstool for Niffty to make the midday meals. Alastor…he was usually in charge of the evening ones, though the others have recently started to contribute to making their own dishes. The successes of those evenings varied, though they all tasted delicious to you. 
 Niffty had all but pushed you into a chair at the dining table as soon as you entered the kitchen with Husk. You watched her tiny frame skitter across the marble floor, plating stacked sandwiches held together with toothpicks stabbed through the middle and potato salad and two other side dishes before it appeared in front of you. She must have prepared some tea for you as well, seeing an ivory teapot and a cup already filled to the brim, steam rising and emitting a fragrant aroma that tickled your nose. 
You thanked her graciously for the meal, even though you were quite sure that you were not going to be able to finish it all before you had to leave for Alastor’s radio station. Twenty minutes was not what Charlie would qualify as a proper lunch break. 
The tiny housekeeper  repeated the same ritual with Husk though she directly handed his plate to him before she gave you an annoyed look that clearly said, finish your meal, all of it, and got distracted with the sight of a roach and began to chase it down with her needle. Husk merely shook his head and sat down next to you on the right side of the table. He picked at his food, clearly not in the mood to eat because his mind was on something else. However, you did not pry. Vaggie had spoken to you about respecting people’s privacy in your first week of arriving at the hotel; just because someone doesn’t seem happy, it didn’t mean you had a right to address it. Talking about it might help, and sometimes it doesn’t. If anything…just let the sleeping dogs lie. 
You eyed the clock. Ten minutes left, and you were only halfway through the meal. You ate the sandwiches, and only had a spoonful of the potato salad. You were about to take another bite from a different side dish when Husk spoke up, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth. 
“I saw what happened in the greenhouse.”
You blinked. Husk….he had seen the confrontation between you and Alastor? You carefully lowered the spoon down the plate, tapping against the porcelain. “There’s nothing to worry about, Husk.” You replied calmly, your attention entirely focused on the meal in front of you. “He will not harm me. He simply wants to talk about my performance on the job.”
“That’s bullshit.” Husk hissed. “We both know it ain’t just ‘cause he’s the facility manager of this place, or that you’re slackin’ off,  it’s ‘cause he hates it when people question his authority!” He slammed a fist against the table, causing the silverware and glassware to wobble momentarily before right themselves again. “[First Name], I saw. I know what he did, and you really have no idea who you’re gonna be alone with in what, five minutes?”
“Seven. And I know who Alastor is. He is a serial killer, a cannibal, and an overlord who broadcasts his carnage on the radio.” you said, raising the tea cup to your mouth as you took a languid sip,  placing it back down the saucer a moment later with a clink. You looked at him. “He is also in a weakened physical state. He will not admit that he has not fully recovered from the war.”
“I swear to God, do not make me go to the princess and Vaggie about this, because I fucking will -”
“Telling them what he did will not change his tactics. He will simply find another way to intimidate me.” You cut off. “You know him better than anyone else, Husk. He is clever, manipulative, and will do anything to get what he wants.”
Husk shot a baffled look at you, eyebrows raised and yellow irises narrowed slightly. “You really don’t see how he looks at you, do you?”
You blinked. “As an enemy? Yes.” Hostility, anger, shock, humiliation. You had seen those expressions many times on that battlefield when you charged across No Man’s Land with the Major’s battalion, cutting through the enemy lines with anything in reach and at your disposal. A weapon of war, a loyal dog to the Major. You watched Husk’s face fall into disbelief, then aggravation before he slapped a paw across his face. You tilted your head to the side. What was wrong? Why was he upset? Is it something you had said? You watched the bartender stand up from the table, walk towards the lower cabinets, crouching down and pulling out a hidden bottle of whiskey. He uncorked it, and took a swing from it before turning back towards you, frowning.
“Ya might have been a soldier, ya might have things that would turn shit white and ya not be scared of Alastor…but you should be. He’s been gone for seven years, and no one knows why, but I can say with certainty that he’s much stronger than before. If you’re gonna talk to him, just….just don’t mention….he’s no different than I am, all right?” That was all he said before almost bolting towards the door, leaving you alone in the kitchen. 
No different than what Husk is. You thought, picking up both of the half-eaten plates from the table, throwing the reminder in the trash, washing and rinsing them off under the tap before setting them down in the dish rack. What does that mean? Alastor does not drink nor does he gamble. Husk is under his commanding unit, a soldier. Your brow furrowed. Did Husk….knows something about Alastor that he doesn’t want others to know? How did Alastor rise to power so quickly and overthrow the overlords who had been dominant in Hell for centuries? 
You would have to think about this possibility later, because when you looked at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, you realized you were already late for your meeting with Alastor. 
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Shadows were handy little helpers to have, Alastor notes. Not only could they provide protection to the staff when he had other matters to attend to in the Pentagram but they were excellent spies. To be his ears and gather all of the delicious secrets he could uncover from enemies that were actually some semblance of a threat to his plans, or just because he was bored and liked to keep tabs on the latest bits of gossip. He loved to share this information with Rosie over tea-time when the subject of their discussions was not revolved around the ornery old bitch, Susan.
Although they have proven themselves to be useful time and time again, these little helpers were also sentient and created their own discord, much to the frustration of their creator. As much as you can say you’ve been keeping a distance from Alastor, he unfortunately can’t say the same. His shadows as of late have found themselves almost constantly attached to you. Through darkened hallways to under your leaves at the greenhouse, they were always at your side. Ready to step in and assist you in any way they can, even if he won’t lift a finger. 
Regardless of how annoyed he has been with them recently,  they had repeated word for word of your conversation with Husk. They know you are late but have said that you are walking towards him and not from way to him, whispering how you were turning right at the end of the corridor and about to come across the staircase leading up to the radio station. They adored you, much to his annoyance. It had already been difficult to even comprehend the idea that he had feelings for you, and his shadows, unfortunately, reflected the darker parts of him that he wished to be locked up for all eternity. The weaknesses that were a threat to his own goals. 
He could not act like an altruist or a lovesick fool. He hungered for power. He craved freedom. Nothing should stop him from carrying out what he wants. If he wrangled the truth out of you, to know that you despised him and did not care about him in any capacity….he will be satisfied. 
Will he though? 
His train of thought was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. Putting on his best smile and straightening out his bowtie, Alastor walked across the room and opened it. He looked down, and saw you staring at him. Your appearance wasn’t as ruffled as he had suspected it to be from being late for an appointment, just a few [Hair Color] strands loose from the hairstyle you wear every day ... .but he supposed he can let it slide this time. He’d rather not hear Niffty complain to him about how you aren’t eating your meals.
“Well, well, there you are~! And here I was wondering if you had forgotten! Come, come, take a seat!” He said, gesturing to the couch sitting adjacent to the soundboard where he sat. He did not even want to look at you, not at this moment. He could feel the shadows purring in delight under his feet, no doubt staring at you with such adoration that it made him gag. He reigned them with a pulse of his power just before a slippery fellow tried to crawl towards the couch and perch over your shoulder. 
He took a seat, and so did you after smoothing out the skirts of your dress. You looked at him straight in the eye, spine straight and gloved hands folded neatly in your lap. 
“So, you are aware as to why you are here, yes~?”
“...I am.”
“And why is that?” He pressed.
“Because I questioned your authority. You tried to frighten me, and you had failed.” You replied. “In my defense, you were in no position to exert yourself when you are still possessing an injury that you will not speak about to the others. I have no intention of saying that to anyone here. I only ask that you do not harm Charlie or the others here in the hotel, or I will keep the promise I made to you less than an hour ago. You will be killed by my hand or I will die trying. People keep secrets because it is necessary for their survival, and the others around them. How can I be sure….that you will not raise your hand and strike us down as soon as your wings are unclipped?”
Alastor’s eyes widened slightly as a wave of high-pitched radio static left his teeth and bounced off the walls before he quickly recollected himself. Goodness, always the blunt one, weren’t you? Inhaling sharply through his nostrils, he made sure his grin stretched all the way to his ears, never showing you what is really going through his mind. Annoyance. Frustration. Adoration. Amusement. 
“Well, those words are the very reason why you are here, my dear.” He stood up from his chair, slowly walking around the soundboard, running a finger across the polished wood. His eyes were fixed on yours and you did not look away. Good. Keep your focus on him and nothing else. 
“By meddling in my affairs, even if it was unintentional on your part, is putting the rest of the hotel in danger. I cannot be compromised under any circumstances, lest I anger the one whom I have an agreement with.”
“The one who is responsible for your rise in power?” He blinked, stopping in his steps for a moment.  Ah. You caught on without him having to spell out to you. Unless dear old Husk had said something to you? No. The shadows have told him that he merely mentioned the seven years that the Radio Demon was gone, nothing beyond what everyone else already knew.  
He nodded, swiveling on his feet and because he felt like it, a jaunty little spin before he sat on the coffee table,  right in front of you and crossing his legs with such elegance that it would make a French girl jealous. 
“Indeed. And trust me when I say they are much more powerful than Charlie’s dear father. That is to say, not even Lucifer can protect you or anyone else from what is about to or could happen should I be compromised. And I know how much you care about the staff here, even sweet little Niffty. Which is why…I want to make a deal.” He held out his hand towards you. “Keep what has happened at the radio station and anything else beyond these four walls to yourself. Never share what you know, not even to Charlie. In exchange for your silence, I will not harm anyone here in the hotel unless we know for certain that they are a threat. Well?” He tilted his head to the side. “Do we have a deal?”
You stared at his hand, then raised your own to your lips, carefully tugging off the glove with your teeth until it fell into your lap. The adamantine skeletal fingers curled around his own, solidifying the deal between the two of you. Alastor felt a burst of power course through him, felt the stitches on his mouth and eyes tugging, the walls turning emerald and the shadows danced around them in celebration. Then the magic subsided, yet the warmth, the burning sensations from your prosthetics seeping through the leather gloves did not. A chirping of radio static left his mouth upon feeling his hand being squeezed to an almost painful degree. When he looked at you, he saw emotions swirling in your eyes that he had not seen from you yet.
Anger.
Disappointment.
Resentmentment.
These were emotions he had caused. Him, the one who was holding your hand tightly because he made a simple deal for yourr silence, and not her soul. So why does he feel conflicted? He had gotten what he wanted, to push you away from him, to banish these uninvited feelings from his chest. But this deal did not give him any satisfaction. It caused him…pain. The kind of pain that he cannot explain. It was not the pain he felt when he missed an opportunity to have an excellent dinner, and not even the pain that…that Adam had given him.
For whatever reason, he could not stop himself from bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss across the knuckles even when the angelic steel instantly burned his mouth upon contact. When he realized what he had done, he pulled away as if he had been struck again by his drunken father and promptly left his office, disappearing into the darkness and subsequently from the hotel altogether.
He did not like this. He did not like these feelings. He did not like how he never had the opportunity to ask him if you cared about him, loved him…yet why did your opinion matter? Why did he want to hear you say, out of your volition, that you love him too? To a man who is supposed to feel nothing at all?!
Times like this, there was only one person who could provide light on this precarious situation without daring to judge him. The Pentagram’s most delightful, daring, and dangerous overlord of Cannibal Town. Rosie. His oldest and dearest friend. 
He supposed it had been long enough since the two of them had tea together, hasn’t it?
Alastor inhaled a shaky breath, allowing himself to materialize on the streets near the Jazz District and smiled brightly as if he wasn’t having an existential crisis, humming a merry tune under his breath that made nearby demons tremble in fear. 
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Taglist: @alastor-simp @the-cat-queen-peasants @pinkgoldweebgirl @rorusena @whenitgrowsbright @aria-tempest @aconfusedwonderland @victheauthor @luthefriendlywitch @lunaramune @candyladycry @22carolina08 @ladydoe8 @lanxianschoenheit @hellbornediamonddreams @imperfectbloodmoon @francisnyx @sillypumpkins @no1sillybilly @faux-ecrivain @bones4thecats @frompeach @frenchtoastmafia @oucx @navierkalani @solandis-does-stuff @anielly-2010 @tonightwrites @mentallyunstablenoodle @bladeismine @asianfrustration13 @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @realifezompire @blumin8 @chewbrry @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @zenix108 @ang3lofdivinity @yourdoorisunlocked @nunezs-stuff @ccruzmoon
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victheauthor · 2 months
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Go check out their wonderful blog!
Salutations everyone, and welcome to this special broadcast of my yandere Hazbin Hotel fic, A Wendigo’s Violent Love!
This past Sunday, I had announced that if the first part had reached 1,000 notes I would share a portion from the second part before its scheduled drop on March 1st at 6PM. Within three days, this number was surpassed and currently sits at 1,038 notes.
I cannot thank my readers enough for their kindness and support in helping achieve this milestone. I sincerely hope you will all enjoy it~! If you would like to read the first part before being spoiled, I will leave a link to the fic here.
So with that being said, let’s get this show on the road~!
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Shadows were handy little helpers to have, Alastor notes. Not only could they provide protection to the staff when he had other matters to attend to in the Pentagram but they were excellent spies. To be his ears and gather all of the delicious secrets he could uncover from enemies that were actually some semblance of a threat to his plans, or just because he was bored and liked to keep tabs on the latest bits of gossip. He loved to share this information with Rosie over tea-time when the subject of their discussions was not revolved around the ornery old bitch, Susan.
Although they have proven themselves to be useful time and time again, these little helpers were also sentient and created their own discord, much to the frustration of their creator. As much as you can say you’ve been keeping a distance from Alastor, he unfortunately can’t say the same. His shadows as of late have found themselves almost constantly attached to you. Through darkened hallways to under your leaves at the greenhouse, they were always at your side. Ready to step in and assist you in any way they can, even if he won’t lift a finger.
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victheauthor · 2 months
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Check this out!
Hey guys, hope you’ve been doing well on this lovely Sunday morning ☀️
As you may or may not know I am in the process of zero drafting part two in my yandere Hazbin Hotel fic, A Violent Wendigo’s Love. It might take me some time to finish it, but I would like share an excerpt with you all this coming week if we can reach 1,000 notes for part one. Currently, this is where it stands:
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So if you’d like a sneak preview of what I’m working on, reblog, like, or comment, though reblogging does help a lot lol. I’ll leave the link to the fic here.
Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor~!
Have a wonderful week, stay healthy and drink plenty of water!
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victheauthor · 2 months
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Check out their amazing blog and happy valentine’s Day 💞🍎
Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day
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warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.
Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!
Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!
Reblog to support content creators! ❤️
Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now. 
Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way possible. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole! 
But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell. 
Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around. 
You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk. 
You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.
 If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help. 
You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.  
You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon. 
 He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence. 
You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one. 
Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?
When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”
Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!
 Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.  
Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for. 
To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past. 
He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge. 
You told him about the Great War  and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here. 
There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.
Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live. 
It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel. 
Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family. 
Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G. 
This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift.The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day. 
He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay! 
He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie. 
He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out. 
You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past. 
You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”
It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!
Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop  in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you. 
Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him! 
Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work. 
He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter. 
At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do! 
Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll. 
And by God you did. 
When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day. 
Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect. 
At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining. 
A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets. 
In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together. 
So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt  as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good. 
“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.” 
Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”
“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!” 
Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red? 
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you. 
“Care to dance?”
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victheauthor · 3 months
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Angel Dust with Violet Evergarden!reader platonic fluff scenario
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Warnings: spoilers up to episode 4, possible triggers. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please leave now and read something much more pleasant.
For everyone else, welcome to this small piece of fluffy goodness! You guys might know me from my other blog, @forbidden-sunlight . You have sent me your ideas for future Violet Evergarden!reader scenarios for Hazbin Hotel, and here is one of them! :)
Sit back, relax, and let us dive into a chaotic afterlife, where even a bit of reprieve from dishonesty and hypocrisy isn’t possible…until now.
Angel Dust's first impression of you is the following: a cute weirdo who dressed like a doll and didn’t smile much. What was even more tragic is that you actually believed there is a chance for sinners to be redeemed, and that the only to do that is complete Charlie’s half-assed rehabilitation program. You still do, even your progress hasn’t gotten you one step closer to Heaven’s pearly gates and the next Extermination is in six months. Five months actually, but who's counting?
That was around the time when he had to go back to work. He didn’t want to, but he knew if he didn’t…well, he didn’t want to think about it. Valentino is a psychopathic freak. He promised to make him, Angel, a big star in Hell’s entertainment industry, and instead fucked him over six ways from Sunday with false promises.
Long hours, shitty pay. No time to even take a nap in his dressing room because of course Big Daddy Val had his favorite toy’s schedule booked until he couldn't walk anymore and needed a stiff drink. When his afterlife seemed to take a nosedive for worse, and after Husk knocked some sense into him, he started finding letters under his door.
At first glance Angel could tell that they weren’t from his fans. No one’s gonna go out of their way and buy expensive paper to type it on, shove in an envelope, and put a wax seal on it just to praise him for his acting skills and share their wildest fantasies starring yours truly. No. This was….someone else.
He honestly didn't know how to describe the context of these letters because he had never received something like this from anyone who did not expect anything from him in PS or PPS. The sender would write either a short or long letter. The short letter was about half a page long; the sender would ask how he was feeling and ask him one question. What was his favorite food? What is the color he would never wear? The sender included a little about themselves too, as if to encourage him to respond. The longer ones started the same, with a greeting and almost the same stuff written in the shorter ones, but they shared how their day went with him, even the stupid, mundane shit they do every day as a part-time clerk at an antique shop and when they come home. The longer ones were at least two pages long. Some stuff made him roll his eyes, made him laugh…but it was the closing sentences, even as they vary from letter to letter, always jerked his heart in a way which made him both sad and happy at the same time.
I’m happy I’ve met you.
Thank you for being here.
Good night and have pleasant dreams.
You are stronger than you think, Angel.
I hope I can receive a letter from you someday.
You made a lot of progress today in Charlie’s exercises. I’m proud of you.
You’re doing great.
Angel might be a bit of a dummy….but he could tell right away who had been sending him the letters. The bit about Charlie’s exercises…there were only a few people attending that day. Vaggie, Sir Wet Noodles, and you. Vaggie wouldn’t write this kind of shit, and definitely not the wannabe overlord. You. You’ve helped him get through it with these letters and you never expected him to reply back. It’s as if you just wanted your words to reach him through Val’s sickly red smoke and hold his hand in your gloved one.
Naturally…the best way he can say thanks…for caring about him in your roundabout way…is to write a letter back. Maybe have a drink at Husk’s bar and talk about shitty coworkers or why Smiles never stops smiling? He’s not sure, but he’ll figure it out somehow. Sex isn’t the only thing he’s good at. And he’d like to get to know you a little more too.
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victheauthor · 3 months
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Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario
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warnings: spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.
Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.
If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)
Reblog to support content creators!
Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.
 Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way. 
So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around. 
Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you. 
You, who believed in Charlie’s work.
You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.
You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it. 
He lost the ability to feel anything years ago. 
Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others. 
You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much. 
In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner.  They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk. 
When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess. 
Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do. 
Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day. 
When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out. 
He saw you cook  finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish  even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands. 
He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War. 
Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit. 
A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day. 
Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it. 
Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake  whiny bitch. 
As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that. 
And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.
It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong. 
One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel. 
Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside of them. 
Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore. 
Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no. 
That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a  shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle. 
THUD.
Shnk.
THUD.
C-crack.
THUD.
“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!” 
“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other. 
He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army.  When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck. 
He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply. 
Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around  scratching, kicking,  and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.
The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off  him and inhaling deep gulps of  precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands. 
“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting. 
Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right. 
“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?” 
“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed  your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character. 
You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked. 
“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”
“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.
“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.
“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”
“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”
“Yes.”
“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”
“Yes.”
“Food for plants.”
“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones. 
Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin. 
“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?” 
Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?
You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of them, they made quick work with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts. 
You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a  block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too. 
Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass. 
Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it. 
Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards. 
They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.
You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. 
“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone. 
“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest. 
“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.” 
Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right.  “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering. 
He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse. 
Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck. 
He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”
Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit. 
You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”
Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw  before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.
“What-”
“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there? 
So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below,  your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.
You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places. 
It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination. 
Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his. 
He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.” 
A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”
You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.
“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”
You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a ‘sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”
“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special. 
You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight. 
“It’s done.”
“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”
You faltered. “But -”
“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.
Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking. 
But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight. 
As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms. 
“Husk?”
“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass. 
“Thank you…for everything.”
His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome." 
He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory? 
And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens. 
What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter. 
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victheauthor · 3 months
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader Valentine's Day scenario
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], obsessive behavior, vulgar language, knowledge based on the first four episodes of the 2024 series.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
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Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor and his little darling!
This is a collaborative piece with @isuckatwritingsobenice with special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing-desk and @riddle-simp for providing criticism and feedback. If you would like to read the one that started it all, I'll leave a link to it here.
As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.
For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on for tonight's broadcast :)
Although he had figured out why you were and what he needed to do to push you in the right direction, Alastor was still annoyed with what he was…feeling towards you. 
When his mother died, he had stopped feeling. There was no reason to keep feeling when the only person in his entire world was gone. Is that the reason why he became a serial killer? Who knows. Is she the reason why he keeps smiling, because he always remembered her saying that you never fully dressed without one? Absolutely! Why bother wearing a frown all the time when he could keep everyone on their toes with a smile and a salutations over the radio? 
So why is it that when he thinks about you, it is like his mind is torn between annoyance and fondness? Why does he have the urge to simply hide you away from the world and keep you all to himself instead of making your misery even greater for his own amusement? He doesn’t know and if he doesn’t figure out why, he knows he will lose his temper very soon. Charlie had already demolished  the second to last wall of his patience on the insistence that everyone in the hotel should participate in a crafting session to celebrate a human holiday. Valentine’s Day, of all things. 
He is a gentleman. And a gentleman, as his mother has always taught him, is to never raise his hand against a woman. She did not say anything about Lucifer’s delusional daughter who believes that the people of Hell can be redeemed. Even you, someone who is just as rational and calm as he, believed in her. That a sinner had a chance to go to Heaven when their actions in life are reflected on their afterlife. It’s common sense, really. 
So why couldn’t you see that? Even Vagatha was starting to have some doubts too. But she would not dare say what is truly on her mind about this passion project to Charlie’s face yet due to her incredibly strong loyalty towards the princess. 
Regardless of his observations of these two ladies, Alastor found himself caught in the enigmatic web of emotions as he observed your seemingly indifferent facade from his favorite chair in the parlor. He was not helping with decorating the hotel. You were though. You stood underneath Charlie, steadying the ladder she stood with gloved hands as she pinned strings of pink and red paper hearts over the hotel’s entryway. Vagatha was nearby, busying herself with other tasks, including asking Husk to please not drink all of the red wine, they are saving it for tonight! Angel was flirting with Husk. Husk shot a rude gesture in return. Niffty was making the hotel spotless again when she already cleaned it a few hours ago. Alastor had no idea where Sir Pentious was and frankly did not care. 
When he had decided to help with the hotel, he was just going to watch from the sidelines and let everything run its course. But there was something being formed here. A connection was beginning to make itself known and he did not like that. The Radio Demon comes and goes as he pleases without being tied down to anything or anyone. If this feeling continues to fester inside of him, why he’ll toss himself into the fiery pits just so that he could be his old self again!
“All right, these are all done!” Charlie said happily, pulling away to look at her handiwork with pride before she averted her gaze to you. “You good there, [First Name]? Sorry I had to pull you away from gardening to do this!”
“I don’t mind.” You said. [Eye Color] irises watched as the princess began to climb down, each step squealing creak-creak beneath her stilettos. “What will we do about snacks and dinner? We already have the drinks covered through Husk.” You held out a gloved hand to the princess on the third step from the bottom. Charlie gladly took it, but not before she spun you around, the bone-white skirt billowing slightly to reveal the laced-up boots on your feet. 
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out! In fact, I’ll make a grocery list for Niffty right now! Then we’ll need to see if we can add anything else. Ooh, maybe something for the staircase? Or the chandelier? This party is going to be so much fun! Can’t you feel the love in the air, [First Name]?!”
You blinked at her. “No.” You carefully distanced yourself away from her. “But I do remember there is something I need to bring inside before I forget about it again. I’ll be right back.”
You bowed your head to them and scurried across the parlor, making quick strides across the parlor and taking a left underneath the intricate railings of the grand staircase. There was a light click, and then there was silence. 
The hotel, constructed on the hill, possessed a limited garden space that showcased carefully manicured flora.  There was also a greenhouse. Both locations were left unexplored by Alastor because he knew the flora you had carefully tended to, and in his opinion, it was too soon to share his secret just yet. However, he did know that the door under the grand staircase, the centerpiece of the hotel’s architecture, was how you always traveled around. 
 Each corridor held secrets, inviting exploration and mystery within the confines of the Pride Ring’s overlook. But the door you took was a shortcut to whichever place you desired to go to: the garden or the greenhouse. Fifteen minutes passed, and then the door opened again. 
Walking out of the staircase, everyone saw the bright red roses cradled carefully in your gloved hands. 
Charlie squealed in delight, racing towards you with wide eyes. Vagatha followed close behind.  Angel just looked up from his phone to see what was all the ruckus in faint interest. 
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! You did it, [First Name]! You really grew something!!” Charlie all but shouted, her excited cries bouncing across the vaulted ceilings. Vagatha leaned forward, a small smile stretching across her face. “Great job.”
“It was a little tricky, but I was finally able to figure out the proper fertilizing formula, including a place where they can get just enough sunshine but not so much that the petals would not be burned. An inch of water each week. Too much water and I might actually kill the roots.” You explained. “Since the weather doesn’t change much down here except for the occasional acid rain, these actually had time to grow.” You then took one flower, holding out to Vaggie. “For you.” You said, then placing  another one in Charlie’s hands. “And you. If you’d like to make them last for a little longer, put them in a vase with sugar water.” 
Charlie beamed. “Thank you!”
“Thanks.” Vagatha said.
 You inclined your head, then crossed the room and proceeded to pass around your hard earned flowers to everyone. You kneeled down to Niffty’s height, tucking one behind her ear before standing up. She jumped up and down in happiness, causing the flower to fall but she caught it, holding it as if it’s the most precious treasure she had ever been given. She promised to give you something in return, to which you politely declined. 
You walked over to the bar and handed a rose to Husk. He stared at the flower, then back at you before he put down the bottle he had been drinking from on the counter, plucking it from your hand. “Thanks kid.” He muttered, laying it next to him and then taking another swing of his booze. Angel immediately slid into one of the booths, grinning toothily at you. 
��Got any for me, toots?” 
You held out a rose to him. He made a flirty joke and promptly shoved it in his chest. “So~? How do I look?” He crooned, batting his eyes at you as he pushed up his chest floof right in front of your face. Honestly, when will this whore learn this is not how someone speaks to a lady?
Your countenance held a fleeting perplexity at his vulgar words and actions, your brow furrowing for a moment before your stoic expression returned…though Alastor could see…an inquisitive expression in your eyes. You were thinking about something. What he did not know and he was quite curious to see what you do next. 
So he sat in silence and watched. 
He watched you stretch your hand outwards, carefully extracting the rose from Angel’s person. Angel opened his mouth, no doubt ready to complain when he froze midway as you artfully placed it on the right side of his head. You withdrew, casting a scrutinizing gaze upon him before nodding in approval. 
“Flowers adorning your hair enhance your allure far beyond the glimmer of rainbow glitter or imitation jewels.” You said. For the first time since he arrived at the hotel, the famous pornstar Angel Dust was rendered completely speechless. The only thing he could stutter was a ‘thanks’, a faint red hue staining his pale face. 
The gradual decay of the rose in your hand did not escape Alastor’s notice and he was delighted. A manifestation of the latent powers he possessed, to cause living things within a certain distance to wither. He smirked, appreciating the subtle dance of his influence. You spun around, meeting his gaze. “Permission to approach, sir?”
Husk gagged. Vaggie groaned. He laughed. 
“Of course you can~!” He said. Oh, you were trying so hard to respect his personal space, how adorable! Goodness, hadn’t you caught on that he only touches people that he is interested in? Why, he’s touched Charlie’s shoulders so many times that he is shocked that Vagatha hasn’t tried to stab him out of jealousy!
So you approached him. But when you held out his rose to him, it was already dead. 
You were shocked but you did not need to say anything; your face, and your eyes, told him everything. He was pleased and amused all at the same time. What would you do next? He thought. You looked down at the rose, then back at him. Carefully placing the other rose, the one that wasn’t completely decayed yet, on the coffee table. Your gloved fingers coiled around the stem of his rose and deftly snapped it in half. You took another step, and leaned forward to pin it to the left side of his coat. 
You took a step back. You looked at the flower, then back at him. “It still suits you.” You said. “Although it is dead, a decayed rose suits you just as much as a fresh one.” 
Alastor felt his withered heart pulse under his skin for the briefest moment until it went still again. He knows he is a dapper of a gentleman, someone who takes pride in his appearance and knows how to use it to his advantage. But hearing your compliment made him preen in his seat. Almost. He had a reputation to uphold. 
“Coming from you my dear, that is the highest praise I had never believed would be uttered from your lips~!” He said, abruptly standing up from his chair and staring down at you with a grin. “Now that I’m all spiffed up, it’s your turn~!”
You tilted your head to the side. “I don’t understand.” You said with an expressionless face.
“I just remembered that I have an errand to run in our dear city, and I am in need of your skill sets~!” He was rambling. He knew it and it was pissing him off because the Radio Demon does not stutter or act flustered around anyone. He snapped his fingers, feeling the familiar thrum of his magic as it left his body, evaporating into a plume of red mist that covered your body before it disappeared as quickly it had come. Gone was the same outfit you wore every day, and in its place was an outfit much more suited for any self-respecting woman; a light pink sequined flapper dress, a rope of pearls around your neck with a nice little cloche hat to top it off. And he mustn’t forget the pair of white heels on your feet!
Yet just as the applause track echoed across the parlor, Alastor noticed that you looked away from him. You were uncrossing and crossing your adamantine skeletal arms, the gloved hands being the remaining piece from exposing the scars of war entirely to curious eyes.  
Oh. Oh. You were even quivering? Such a shame. 
Trying his best to ignore the disappointment gnawing at his bones, Alastor sighed and snapped his fingers again, dispelling the enchantment on you and simultaneously replacing the outfit with something….much more suited to your style, but matching him in every sense of the word. A white ruffled white blouse poking out from the collar of a red waistcoat, a matching ruffled skirt that covered your legs and stretched to your ankles, where the black-heeled stilettos peeked out from. The white gloves were dyed to onyx, and the cute hat was replaced with one that had a wider brim with a black rose stitched on the side. In your hands was a red parasol. But his favorite, personal touch was the ruby brooch shaped like a stag, like him. 
Replacing the emerald one you wore every day, supposedly in memory of Major Gilbert. The man whom you claimed did not love him romantically since you cannot love. That tad-bit he had overheard when you shared one thing about yourself in the group exercise. 
But more importantly, you no longer seemed anxious. In fact, you were back to your normal, monotone self~! How wonderful and annoying!
Alastor grinned in approval, twirling his microphone expertly between his fingers before rapping the end of it against the floor with a loud thump. “Now then, shall we be off, my dear~?” He said, extending his arm for you to take. You looked at him, then back at Vagatha before you stepped towards him, very cautiously placing your gloved hand in the crook of his arm. It took a lot of self-control to not pull away in disgust from the contact, but he held onto his composure because he is a gentleman not a brute. 
“Now then, let us be off~!” He bellowed.
“You’re supposed to actually be helping us around the hotel, not fucking off, you prick!” Vagatha yelled, her lovely silver hair standing on end as she swore in Spanish. Charlie was trying to calm her darling down with a sheepish smile, wishing the two of you a good time and don’t worry about a thing. Alastor just grinned and quickly led them out of the hotel, down the steep hill and into the city.
Though as soon the two of you were parading through the streets, you immediately pulled away from him and stood exactly five feet behind him. He could not help but feel amused by your antics, nor the relief of actually having his personal space back even when he had offered his arm for you to take, not the other way around. You knew better than to initiate contact. Although unexpected joy hummed in his veins, this…genuine connection, this bond, began to chip away around the edges of his collected facade. And as the two of you continued your walk through the Pentagram at a steady pace, there was also this irritable and irresistible annoyance starting to bloom in the back of his head and quite frankly it was beginning to give him a headache. Why is he feeling so many things at once? Can’t feelings have an arranged timetable so he doesn’t lose his reputation as a fearsome overlord? 
Why are feelings…so damn complicated? Why? 
Not wanting to sink any further between the allure of your company and his own resistance to vulnerability, Alastor began to hum a little tune to distract himself. He did not want to think. He refuses to fall even further than he already has. He turned his head slightly, gazing at you from his peripheral vision. You were looking around curiously, watching sinners live their sinful lives and probably wondering why you had earned the same damnation as they did. At least that was what he initially thought until he saw your eyes darting from the street corners, the buildings…ah. The cameras.
You were worried about Vox seeing him after he had put the little pest in his place last week? Oh, you were quite a little darling, weren’t you?
“There’s no need to be concerned about those tiny picture boxes, my dear!” He exclaimed suddenly. “This face was made for radio, the proper medium to express oneself!”  
“...You’re certain?” 
  “Of course! Now it should be around here…ah-ha! Here we are! Follow me or you might get swept up by another gentleman!” Alastor joked as he quickened his pace towards a mortar-and brick building sandwiched between two other more modern buildings on the other side of the street. The restaurant, embraced by mortar and brick, stood between modern edifices. Its interior exuded a warm ambiance, with dim lighting casting a subtle glow on polished wooden tables. The booths were nestled in the back, providing a private setting for the two of you. The menu possessed an array of culinary delights, promised a refined venison experience.
 Rosie had recommended this place to him a while back, but never got around to it after he left for his sabbatical seven years ago. You did not keep him waiting, matching your stride with his and the host’s. 
Despite just how much the host trembled in fear at the sight of him, handing out the menus and stuttering the name of their server, the host couldn’t stop staring at you with a dazzled, licentious look in his eyes. Alastor had to hold back the urge to make the server part of his menu. Or maybe he shouldn’t? Perhaps this youngster needed a reminder just who he is? 
“…Alastor? Alastor? Sir?”
Your voice called out to him, the barest hint of concern laced with curiosity before he shook himself out of his thoughts. “Yes, my dear?” He asked. 
“Are we doing a reconnaissance mission?” 
 The static around him screeched to a halt, and he stared at you with an incredulous expression. 
“I beg your pardon?”
“You had said that you needed my skill sets on this outing,” You said, blinking at him, folding your gloved hands together on the sleek wood table. “My specialties from serving in the war include that as well as hand-to-hand combat and weapon handling. Is….this about new territories that are up for the taking? Why was the extermination date moved up to six months? Or this mission on a need-to-know basis?”
…He knew you were oblivious to Angel’s flirtatious remarks and modern slang, but he did not think that it would extend that you did not know that when a gentleman takes a beautiful lady for a night around the town, it means he has the intention of courting. What sort of life had you lived before coming down here? More importantly, how does he explain without looking like a complete fool?
The Radio Demon thought for a long moment before a proverbial lightbulb went off inside his mind. Yes, he thought delightfully. That will do. Mirroring your position - spine straight, bony fingers interlaced, and placed neatly on the table, maintaining eye contact. He spoke. 
“Considering your skills-set, I wanted to see if you are truly as talented as you claim to be~! And there is no better way to evaluate a person’s worth than through a simple test. A game, if you will!” He leaned forward, pushing a wave of his powers throughout his body,releasing it from the bottom of his shoes and scattering throughout the establishment. Well, his friends at least. Now for the rules. 
“My shadows are somewhere in this restaurant. Some are easy to see at first glance, some are not~! Find all six of them, and you get a prize! If you guess incorrectly, however, then you must truthfully answer a question I will ask.  The time limit will be until we leave, and you must maintain eye contact with me at all times! Since this mission is….a personal one of mine, you must be able to blend with the crowd and not draw attention to yourself, to us, or this mission will be compromised. Any questions?” You shook your head. 
“Wonderful~!” He bellowed in delight 
And then the game began. 
Between interruptions with their server and mild conversation, you whispered where each shadow as you looked at the second side of the menu, unable to decide what to try. He obviously recommended the venison, and he would either say you found a shadow or guessed incorrectly. By the time you had informed the server of your entrees, you found three out of six. You got two tries wrong. Alastor got two questions out of you. 
“What was your life like before coming down here, my dear?” He asked. 
“I served in The Great War as a soldier of the Leidenschaftlich Army. My commanding officer was Major Gilbert Bougainvillea.” You answered. “When I was relieved from my duties, I worked at a postal company until my death.”
“And do you know what it means when a gentleman asks a young lady to join him for an outing?” 
You opened your mouth, and then closed it, confusion flitting across your face for the briefest moment until you answered him. “I do not.” You said slowly. “From my experience in the barracks, the men would escort the young ladies that have caught their interest to the pub or somewhere else…and they  would not come back until past curfew. The major would lecture them if he caught them.  He told me…it was a sex thing. But I was too young to understand what he meant back then.”  
Alastor almost choked on his venison at your words, his equilibrium thrown off for a moment before he quickly recovered, swallowing the delicious morsel and maintaining his dignity by wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I…see.” He said slowly. “And you are aware that this is not that kind of courting, correct?”
“Yes.” You answered. “Because you do not like anything related to sex, which is perfectly fine.”
“But do you know that when a gentleman courts a young lady without…that in mind, it is because he has a romantic interest in her?” He asked, staring at you straight in the eye. “And he would like to get to know a little more in a setting that does not include any third parties?”  There. He thought as he saw your eyes widen just a fraction. Understanding. You were catching onto his intentions! Finally, another emotion! You have shown him another expression besides indifference and confusion! Good job!  Now will these blasted feelings finally go away? Out of sight, out of mind as they say!
Then the look on your face melted away, becoming a mask of stoicism as you answered him softly. 
“I appreciate the sentiment….but I am afraid that I am no longer capable of feeling emotions, at least…what it truly means to love someone. It can come in many forms and is expressed differently with each person. The romantic sense…it isn’t meant for me. And I’ve come to terms with that when I was alive, and when I came here. I am grateful for what I already have.”
In the back of his mind, Alastor had actually thought he would get another reaction out of you, perhaps seeing your cheeks turn red and hear your heart thumping against your rib cage. But at the cost of hearing someone actually reject his advances?
That does not seem quite fair, does it? He chuckled darkly in amusement. 
“Hm~. You say that you are no longer capable of expressing yourself beyond a grim facade? I beg to differ, my dear. I have seen you show  discomfort, anxiety, and understanding all within a single day of being in my company. I can guarantee that’s the most I have ever seen of you since you came to the hotel.” He craned his head to one side, still smiling. “But fear not, I wholeheartedly welcome a challenge.” 
With that being said, he graciously decided to extend the little game with the progression of their meal, right up to when the waiter brought them your desserts. There were still three shadows to find, and he continued his line of questioning, observing your reactions and demeanor as you answered him. 
Alastor will not lie and say that your rejection of courtship did not bruise his pride. He was used to being feared and worshiped in a single breath. Being liked was something else entirely, yet being disliked? Quite rare, with the exception of Vox and the other Vs. 
“You can certainly keep me on my toes, darling.” He said playfully as he stood up from his seat, walking to your side and offering his hand. You stared at him owlishly before placing your hand in his gloved one. 
“My mind cannot change that easily I’m afraid, Alastor. You are wasting your time.” You said. 
“We shall see, my dear. Perhaps you just need a little more…persuasion.” He replied, before delivering the final question to you, a personal one: how many had you killed when you were a soldier? You replied. I cannot remember anymore. 
He was quite stunned at your answer…but he was satisfied, and that was all that mattered. He knew more about you than Charlie probably could ever pull out of you during a group exercise. No one else. Not Husk, Not Niffty, and certainly not Angel Dust nor Sir Pentious. And that gave him an advantage over anyone else who would be so bold as to approach you with a romantic intention. 
“I see.” He hummed. “Come, come, you’ve passed the test~! And I did promise a prize to the winner~!”
Instead of the traditional flowers, chocolates, or stuffed animals that were given to a lover on this atrocious holiday, Alastor had purchased  new ink ribbons for your Remington typewriter and another pair of leather gloves. Perhaps he will allow you to keep the outfit he dressed you up in. You did wear the same thing every day. It was better than trusting Angel Dust with upgrading your wardrobe. 
You thanked him, the barest stretch of a genuine smile stretched across your face as you cradled the bag that held your gifts before it disappeared as quickly as it came, and you focused on the road ahead. Yet to him, the fearsome Radio Demon…it was such a smile that lasted long enough to commit it to his memory, and reinvigorate his desire to pursue you. 
After all, no one else in this cesspool is worthy to court the soldier maiden of the Hazbin Hotel except for him…
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victheauthor · 3 months
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Go check out their amazing blog.
Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario
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warning: language, ooc, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.
Special thanks to @tonightwrites for helping me with this piece! Enjoy :)
All right, maybe he is moving a little bit fast in falling back in love again but…well, Lucifer will admit that he can’t help himself. That’s just who he is. He’s passionate by nature, and it shows in the super amazing ducks he has created and how he helps Charlie in rebuilding her hotel. Not to mention you were so cute!
Sure, you’re a little stoic and didn’t have a cellphone, and he did mistake for a human, but that was okay! He thought it was amazing that you were able to grow almost anything in the hotel’s greenhouse! He had to see it to believe it; wire racks of pots in different shapes and sizes, all those flowers and fruits. There were even herbs nearly bundled up and labeled on a wooden table. It was all very meticulously, and everything was well taken care of. He couldn’t find a single sign of neglect. And a single person was responsible for it all? Holy shit. 
Charlie did reassure him that you were very much dead and a sinner. Why you still looked like a human and had freaky skeletal prosthetics, she had absolutely no clue. 
But the cherry on the top was how respectful you were towards him. I mean, when was the last time someone saluted and referred to him as His Majesty? And that look on the Radio Demon’s face when she curtsied to him, the king of Hell? Priceless. 
He did appreciate your honesty, not even holding back when you said that you weren’t sure if a rubber ducky would look all right with the new fountain in the greenhouse. But you did anyway, carefully laying it on top of the water. You looked at for a long moment, expressionless and calm before turning to him and saying that his little creation gave the greenhouse…a more peaceful ambience. 
You thanked him for his contribution, and went right to work, dressed in an apron with a watering can in your gloved hands. At least until the little maid Niffty came in with a big frown on her face, scolding you for trying to skip meals again. You looked at him for help…but unfortunately, he couldn’t help this time, gently pushing out of the greenhouse while Niffty tugged you by the hand. 
You might say that you are used to not eating to accomplish your tasks, though that growling tummy disagrees~!
Whenever he had time, he made sure you took breaks and would spend time with you in the greenhouse so you wouldn’t be lonely. He’d tell you stories, share what else he created, and how he’s been wanting to connect with Charlie for so long…yet was so scared and unsure of what he could say to her. Especially after Lilith left Hell without saying a word seven years ago. 
“The important thing is that you are here with her now and support her endeavors, Your Highness. I…did not have a family when I was alive…but I had friends. Friends who supported and loved me, for all the flaws I possessed.” You looked down at your hand, clenching it slowly into a fist. “It was because of them…that I understood many things about myself…and emotions I did not know I had. Grief. Gratitude. Empathy. Guilt. I was on fire, and I did not know it. But I killed many people during the Great War. I was a weapon. That will never change. However,” You then looked at him. “If I am able to accept that I cannot change the past, and find the courage to move forward…how can a sinner not be able to find redemption even if they are dead? I believe…in Charlie. What she is doing. You do too. And I am sure…she is grateful that you finally understand her.”
 If he hadn’t already been in love with you, this would definitely be the moment when he realized how felt towards you. And Charlie, his sweet, smart little girl knew too. 
That was probably why she pulled him aside one afternoon to privately speak in her office. She was obviously….a little freaked out. But he waited until she finished inhaling and exhaling deep breaths, eyes closed, clenching and unclenching her fists, whatever helped her calm down. She then looked him straight in the eye.
“Look Dad, I’m…happy that you’re happy. I mean, it’s really, really obvious that you like [First Name]. Now there’s nothing wrong with that, I’m okay!” She added quickly, waving her hands up and down frantically. “It’s…it’s been a long time since you and Mom split up, and I know you haven’t even thought about anyone else until now. Look,” She took in another deep breath. “I know how…enthusiastic you can get, but as the hotel’s founder and [First Name]’s friend slash employer…tone it down. The flirting, the dad jokes, and….the romance. I know, I know you love romance! But try to be considerate of [First Name], okay? She’s finally learning how to be a human and I don’t want her to feel pressured or uncomfortable or not understand what you’re doing because you’re moving too fast! She’s really, really oblivious! She doesn’t even know Alastor likes her!”
Lucifer stared at Charlie. “Wait…ARE YOU SERIOUS?! SHE-SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW -”
“Dad, please!” 
“IS SHE REALLY THAT CLUELESS?!”
“Yes.” 
To his dismay, you were. You had absolutely no idea that the Radio Demon was besotted with you. He tried to help you around the greenhouse too, invite you to listen to his broadcasts or walks around the nicer parks in the Pride Ring, all the boring stuff an old timer would think count as trying to be romantic. Nope. Nope, nope, this is not happening. Not on his watch!
He will win you over and promise Charlie that he won’t overdo it when he courted you. But could he at least show you how to make a super cool rubber ducky in his workshop, or take you out for a flight with you in his arms? That’s not overdoing it, right? 
Maybe? Or should he take you out for some caramel apple pancakes? 
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victheauthor · 3 months
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!
Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things.  Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you. 
You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.
He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!
He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone! 
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But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything. 
Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him. 
So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others. 
Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished. 
You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace. 
On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind. 
She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”
“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.” 
Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating table. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset.  It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. 
Yes, it is better this way.
That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness. 
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Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head. 
He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this.  He needed to speak to you. Discreetly. 
However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.
 Nifty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. 
He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off. 
“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”
You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.” 
The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”
“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am in the break room within ten minutes.” 
“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”
You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”
He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”
“Because I know the truth.”
Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree. 
“I know the truth. “I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with this horrifying truth with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.” 
The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze. 
“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”
“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.” 
In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when you released you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire. 
“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.” 
“Release me.”
“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW
“Come to my office in exactly ten minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”
That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master. 
So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?
In ten minutes, he  needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.
What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door. 
He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling and fussing over you before grabbing you by the hand. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again. He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again. 
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victheauthor · 10 months
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Happy Birthday to these two wonderful Heroes!🎉🍎
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victheauthor · 1 year
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Finally finished coloring this beautiful picture from the Throne Of Glass coloring book.
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