raginglesbian2006

[raginglesbian2006]

Angel! reader with Alastor somewhere in my fic Ne Me Quitte Pas

Reader: *In the middle of a conversation with the hotel residents *

Alastor: *pops out of nowhere* Salutations, you miserable souls-

Reader: *glares at Alastor* I'm not done talking yet. You will speak when I'm done.

Vaggie: Ooooh

Angel Dust: Honey-

Lucifer: Girl-

Alastor: *radio screech*

Charlie: *looks around nervously* Security?

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

A/N: Sooooo, I might've made this post just to say that I'm taking a break from writing for a while. I will be back with a new chapter for Ne Me Quitte Pas and also fill in pending requests next month! Plus, I am pretty sure I'll be able to have a fixed schedule for the release of the chapters for my Alastor x angel! reader fic. Thank you for your patience!

Au revoir<3

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x angel!reader

[raginglesbian2006]

I just want to point something out since I'm watching Hazbin Hotel on repeat.

Episode 3 "Scrambled Eggs" when Vaggie interrupts Alastor eating breakfast and he says "do you mind? I'm in the middle of breakfast"

Alastor made an unintentional pun because I noticed that he was actually eating from the middle of the dead deer. Meaning Alastor was literally in the middle of his breakfast

The way I laughed out loud at this.

Of course, Alastor would pull something like that lmaooo. You have an observant eye!

#hazbin hotel #alastor

[raginglesbian2006]

hii! could u headcanons of Vox and/or Alastor x Male! Reader who loves to write (poems, novels) and draws most of the time? like, maybe Vox/Alastor is distracted talking to someone else and or doing something and reader is in the back, drawing them?

This is such a good idea! Honestly, I have been meaning to write something for Vox but I love Alastor as well, so why not both?

RadioStatic (separate) with an artistic male! s/o

Alastor:

Alastor has a love for anything creative and artistic and the fact that his boyfriend shared a love for that too? Well, it makes him quite happy

He usually sits with you, sipping on his coffee as jazz plays in the background, enjoying the serenity of it all while you work on your writing or sketches

He also loves reading/reviewing your work. You seeking his advice feeds into his ego, ya know?

Alastor is a great person to go to for honest, yet constructive criticism

I mean, he is an asshole but not that much, ya know? (not me tryna defend this sociopath. The readers and I can change him I swear-)

He was surprised when he stumbled upon your sketchbook, opening to see quite a few drawings of himself.

Some featured him talking to people around the hotel and others captured him hosting his tamer broadcasts.

He'd tease you about it when he finds out, but deep down, he'd be appreciative that you took so much time and effort to draw his likeness

He'd quite sneakily take a page off to keep it for himself

He would advertise your work to Charlie or to other overlords he deemed worthy enough to bask in your expertise, only if you were comfy with it, of course.

If you are shy about showcasing your work to everyone, Alastor would be proud that he is the only one you feel comfortable showing your talents.

He is a total sweetheart behind closed doors. (Don't tell anyone!)

Vox:

He initially didn't care for you or your talents

But hooo boy, when he caught a glimpse at what you could do, you bet this man is all over you.

He likes watching you work when he's free

Since he's in the media biz, he provides surprisingly good critiques on your writing/art. He knows what sells and what doesn't after all.

If you are the shy kind, he'd try to convince you to broadcast your work for all his viewers to see but eventually, he'd settle on being one of the only people with the luxury of seeing your talents.

If you are comfy with showcasing your work to others, you bet he's spending the big bucks on making sure your talents are seen far and wide.

He'd even encourage you to write scripts for the movies he's making, only if you're absolutely ok with it

Vox's screen had glitched slightly when he stumbled upon your drawings of him.

His boyfriend...had drawn...him???

This man is lowkey tearing up, please hold him

The other Vees are kinda fed up with him just chattering on about you and your wonderful writing and drawing skills

You're his pride and joy, after all <3

A/N: Sooo sorry for the late response. I hope this is to your liking! :)

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox #the vees #radiostatic #vox x reader

[raginglesbian2006]

The most intimate thing I can think of doing with Alastor is both of us sitting on a couch each with our own book reading soft jazz music playing in the background and a fire going in the fireplace.

Yet at the same time I picture that anyone who walks into the room and sees that just walks back out do to confusion. Like they are questioning if that room was even in hell with how peaceful it is in there. If it was just Alastor completely fine and normal nothing weird but add his s/o it suddenly becomes a car crash thing "it's so boring yet I can't look away"

I can totally see that!

I also think that if someone disrupts the peace, Alastor would snap

Like, leave this man and his significant other alone, please!

I imagine it going somewhat like this-

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

*Just the two of you, chilling in the common area in the lobby of the hotel, reading and listening to jazz*

Angel Dust: *calling out to you* hey uhh, I need yer help with somethin'-

Alastor: *turns his head around to look at him with a sickening crack and a terrifying smile as the radio static grows uncontrollably*

Angel Dust: *quietly speedwalks out of the vicinity*

You: *playfully glaring at Alastor* How many times have I told you not to scare my friends away?

Alastor: *shrugs* Not my fault, they're annoying, my dear

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Oooh also, if you happen to fall asleep whilst you're chilling with Alastor, it is a fact that he's picking you up, bridal style and transporting you to your room so that you can have a nice slumber in the comfort of your own bed.

Yes he is a manipulative overlord who was also a serial killer and a cannibal when he was alive, but he is a gentleman first and foremost.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

[raginglesbian2006]

Ne Me Quitte Pas

Alastor x angel!reader

Chapter 2: Among My Souvenirs

Chapter warnings: Heaven being a bitch, harassment from Adam

There's nothing left for me of days that used to be

I live in memory among my souvenirs

Some letters tied with blue, photograph or two

I see a rose from you among my souvenirs

Masterlist

The first thing you remember in your afterlife was the giant imposing golden gates that led you to the heavenly grounds.

You recall standing in a queue, waiting for your name to be called and gain your wings, halo, and a home in heaven. You could see people of various kinds- some short, some tall, most of them resembling creatures of all sorts. Only a few seemed to possess human-like features.

You looked back at where you came from. It was a bridge, a long one. You did not recall crossing it but saw people coming through it and joining the queue with a dazed look.

The person in front of you - someone resembling a bunny- yelped in excitement as their wings and halo were granted and they hopped off, passing through the gates into heaven.

You were next.

You looked up at the angel manning a register, standing in front of a tall podium. His fingers glided over the pages as he mumbled each name he saw before reaching your own.

Your name was called.

“Um…hi?” you said, rather awkwardly, “That’s me.”

“Hello!” the angel exclaimed, “My name is St. Peter. It is my delight to invite you to join the heavenly gardens that lay beyond this door! Congratulations on your journey here. Everyone in heaven is eager to meet you!”

You could feel a tingle at your back as soon as he said that. You waited for a while as your wings sprouted forth and a warmth settled atop your head. Your hands reached out to the warmth- you realized it was your halo.

The heavenly gates opened wide to welcome you. Your eyes widened as you got a glimpse of the paradise that lay before you. It was…beautiful.

“Go on now, dearie!” St. Peter smiled wide, “Enjoy the rest of your afterlife!”

You took one step forward but paused. You looked at the angel.

“Before I go…I had a question.”

The angel tilted his head, “Of course, do go ahead.”

You turned back around and pointed at the bridge, “What…what exactly is that?”

St. Peter chuckled as he explained, “That, my dearie, is the bridge to heaven. After your judgment, you must cross the bridge to reach here. As you do, the memories of your mortal life fade with every step you take. Once you do take a step forward, you cannot go back.”

“Lose…my memories?” you asked, “Why…why do I have to lose my memories?”

“To prepare you for the reincarnation program of course!” St. Peter smiled, “There comes a time when every Winner is reincarnated into a new body to live their next life! It won’t fare well if they remember the memories of their past lives, now would it?”

He continued, “For those that do not want to be reincarnated, they get to live a carefree life in heaven- away from every bad memory that plagued their life when they were alive!”

You nodded, feeling an ache in your chest.

“If you don’t mind, I have another question.”

St. Peter gestured for you to speak.

“Can you tell me then,” you lifted your hand, your fingers holding a beautiful ring- it held a lovely little gem that shone red, “why I have this?”

St. Peter bent down and squinted his eyes to look at the object a little better. Then, he smiled and replied, “That must be a gift to you from someone who loved you dearly.”

He explained, “Everyone who comes to heaven is gifted with something or the other at their grave from people who love them the most. They are allowed to have that little token from their life as they enter the gates of heaven. Consider it a little reminder that they were loved, even though they have forgotten their memories.”

He took a deep breath and looked at you, “Is that all, dearie?”

“Yes,” you replied, “Thank you for clearing my queries.”

“It’s no problem at all!” he said, “Enjoy the fruits of your goodness. Welcome to heaven!”

Your hand clutched around the ring, the ruby digging into your skin as you finally walked through the gates of heaven.

You had stayed in heaven for quite a long while. You could’ve chosen to be reincarnated but you didn’t. It was as if something was stopping you from taking that step.

So you made the best of your time in heaven. You helped your neighbors, spoke kindly to those who passed by you, and volunteered to serve the people of heaven.

Everyone who met you fell in love with your gentle and kind demeanor and they praised you for the goodness of your heart.

You had to make a couple swerves when Adam caught wind of you. He would often pop out of nowhere when you were out and about on your daily tasks and try to get you to go on a date with him.

You were quite adamant (see what I did there?) on not letting your anger at his arrogance get the best of you and politely declined his offers, no matter how many times he tried to convince you. You had class, after all.

In about a few years since your arrival, one of the guardians of the Heavenly Grand Council stepped down from his role to finally retire and head towards reincarnation. The vacancy was to be filled by the collective vote of the residents of heaven.

It was safe to say that you had gained enough love and support from your fellow Winners that you were chosen as the next guardian to man the station left by your predecessor.

You were gifted a golden sword, crafted by the prince of heaven, Michael himself, when you ascended to your position. You still remember how you felt more powerful and how your wings enlarged and grew stronger, the moment you held your weapon in your hands.

And yet, at the moment, even if you had such a powerful item in your hands and were imbued with unspoken power, you thought of the ring that stayed on your finger as a more precious possession.

The sword gleamed in the light refracted by the glass dome that hung above you. The large empty hall echoed with every swish of your weapon.

With your memories compromised by heaven, you were left with a deep aching in your chest. An ache that pestered you since you entered through the heavenly gates. Throughout your years in heaven, you felt like a part of you was missing.

Between your duties as a guardian and the constant pestering from Adam, you thought you would be able to forget that pain. But you couldn’t. The worst thing about it was that you had no idea what was causing this. How could you know? The memories of your mortal life were taken from you, erased as soon as you stepped on that god-forsaken bridge.

The golden sword moved like lightning, as your movements became swifter and more precise. Your breath came out in uneven huffs as you elegantly moved your way around the lonely hall, slicing the air with your weapon.

Suddenly, there was a change- a slight gust of wind blew through. Someone was here. Someone with the agility and patience to move towards you without making a noise.

You paused in your ministrations, only momentarily, before you swung your tightly held sword at your intruder.

The tip of your blade was met by two large pairs of eyes, looking back at you, terrified.

"Molly?"

The female arachnid let out a puff of air in relief, as your sword turned itself into a staff- the latter holding the same regal air as the former.

"I have got to stop sneakin' up on ya, I swear!" Molly chuckled.

"I am sorry, dear," you hung your head in embarrassment as you tapped the end of your staff on the polished golden floors, "I do tend to get carried away sometimes."

Molly waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal.

"It's alright, sugar. It ain't your fault. I just gotta be more careful next time," she winked, playfully.

You let out a laugh in response. Your heavy heart felt a little lighter with such a jovial presence as she.

"So," you gestured to her to walk along with you, "To what do I owe the honor of you visiting?"

"Oh, I'm just a messenger!" Molly followed close behind you, as the two of you walked out of the large hall, " It's Emily who wanted to talk to you."

She leaned in closer and whispered to you, placing one of her hands over her mouth, "I hear there's a very special guest coming! I've been called to participate in the welcoming song by Sera! Can you believe it, sugar?"

Your brows scrunched up in confusion, "There's...a special guest? Coming to heaven?"

Molly nodded her head excitedly, "Mhm! But they won't tell us who it is. I reckon it's gonna be sweet ol' Em who's gonna let you in on that secret!"

You hummed, "Well, I best be off then, darling. I wish you all the best for your performance!"

The arachnid looked at you gleefully, and then with a tight hug, she left you to find your way to Emily.

Fortunately, even though Molly forgot to tell you where the younger seraph was, in the midst of her excitement, you knew exactly where to find her.

You saw Emily waving at you from one of the tables placed outside the quaint cafe you frequented. She had already ordered for the two of you- your cup steaming with a freshly made beverage.

"Greetings, Emily," you bowed your head out of courtesy. No matter how much you considered her a dear friend of yours, she was a seraph first and foremost.

Emily giggled and pulled you down to have you sit at the table, "You have no idea how much I've been wanting to tell you something!"

You glanced at the youngest seraphim, gently blowing over your hot beverage, "Well, I am here now so..." you trailed off.

Emily bounced in her seat, excitedly, "Ok, but you have to pinkie promise that you won't tell this to anyone," she raised her pinkie towards you.

Chuckling, you intertwined your little finger with hers, "I promise. Now don't keep me waiting."

"Theprincessofhelliscomingtovisitheaven!" Emily exclaimed as softly as she could, in a single breath.

Your eyes blinked owlishly at hers for a moment. Then, you burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry, I thought you said the princess of hell is coming over to visit heaven," you wiped away a stray tear, taking a sip of your drink.

"No, that is exactly what I said," Emily stated.

You spat out your beverage in disbelief, "I'm sorry, WHAT!?"

Emily shushed you and awkwardly smiled at the patrons gawking at the two of you.

You immediately lowered your voice, "What do you mean the princess of hell is coming to heaven? I mean-what-why?" you stuttered through.

The younger seraphim looked at you with glee, "Oooh! She's here to propose her idea to Sera and me in front of the court!"

You titled your head in confusion, "Propose....what?" You took another sip of your beverage.

"Why, her idea to rehabilitate sinners, of course!"

You spat out your drink a second time.

Emily handed you a tissue as your wide eyes looked at her.

"The princess of hell," you said, taking the tissue and wiping your mouth, "is working on rehabilitating sinners," you made sure to sound out each syllable clearly, " and is coming to heaven to propose her idea?"

Emily clapped her hands, "Yes! Isn't it exciting?"

Your confusion remained.

"It is indeed...unexpected," you finally took a proper sip.

"Oh! And she's coming over tomorrow!"

You did nothing but nod your head. The princess of hell trying to get sinners into heaven? No matter how noble the cause was, it seemed rather...useless. Sinners were brought down to hell for a reason. Besides, what demon would even want to rehabilitate themselves? Was there any scope for success?

You continued listening to Emily rant about how excited she was at the prospect of meeting someone from hell, let alone, the daughter of the head honcho, herself.

Your thoughts remained on how important it was for you to attend this court hearing. There was a feeling in your chest that you may be able to find some semblance of an answer to the questions you have been withholding for so long.

After a long chat with Emily, you two bid each other adieu and you headed straight to your headquarters, wanting to get some work done before the busy day tomorrow. You knew if the princess of hell was coming over to heaven, things would not go as smoothly as one would hope.

You took your time to wander through the streets leading up to your destination, greeting every angel that passed you by.

Just then, out of the blue, your wings bristled at the sound of your name being called rather harshly.

“There you are!” a gruff voice exclaimed, approaching you, “You know how fucking hard it is to find you nowadays?”

You turned around with a pointed look.

“Adam,” you greeted him, “What a pleasure it is to meet you here.”

God knows you were lying.

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” he leaned in closer to you as you took a step back to create some distance, “There’s this concert coming around in a few days and I wanted to tell you to come with me.”

You raised an eyebrow, “I’m sorry…you wanted to tell me to come with you? Not ask?”

Adam let out a scoff, “Why would I ask? I mean, I know any bitch would want to come with me,” he leaned his face closer to yours, “including you.”

You pushed his face away with your finger and laughed.

“That is where you are wrong, Adam,” your teeth gritted as your anger bubbled through, “Despite the many times I have rejected your advances, you keep coming back to pester me.”

You took a step forward, and your eyes shone golden. Your figure grew bigger as your wings fluttered wide and the grip on your staff- which had now turned into the sword- tightened. You felt your third eye opening, right in the middle of your forehead- the eye resembling your normal ones, golden and terrifying.

Adam gulped and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted.

“YOU CANNOT SEEM TO UNDERSTAND,” your voice grew more frightening, “WHEN NO MEANS NO.”

After a few seconds, Adam let out a huff and turned around, leaving you be as he shouted, “Your loss, bitch.”

You reverted back to your normal self as you huffed out a sigh. You turned your sword back into your staff and held it in the crook of your arm, your hands fiddling with the ring that adorned your finger. When you calmed down, you snapped your fingers to open a portal that would transport you to your headquarters. You wished you had thought of taking the easy route before Adam had ruined your mood.

When you reached your office, you were greeted by Oliver, your assistant.

“Greetings, your grace!” he bowed his head as soon as he saw you.

“Oliver,” you started, making your way to your desk, “How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t need to use honorifics with me?”

You had met Oliver not too long ago. He seemed to have lived a long and happy life. Despite his old age, he was very sprightly and efficient in organizing the mess that was your paperwork and reports.

Whenever he smiled, your mind was put at ease. You felt safe in his presence. You considered him your dearest friend, your confidante, and most importantly, a person you could talk to without the fear of judgment.

You felt as if you knew him already before you two even had the chance to meet.

Oliver shrugged, “You’re too humble for your own good. Embrace your title! Feel the power you possess!”

You chuckled at his theatrics- your unfortunate encounter with Adam long forgotten.

Oliver continued, “You look like you have a lot on your mind, though.”

“You are the only one who can see right through me, Oliver,” you sighed as you leaned against your chair.

“I’m not supposed to say this to anyone…but let’s just say a very…interesting guest is going to make an appearance tomorrow.”

You fiddled with the ring on your finger once more.

There was a lot of hustle and bustle at the court today.

As you sat down at your assigned place, you politely greeted your fellow guardians and waited eagerly for the session to commence. Several feet below you, you could see two figures making their way to their station. They were not angels, by what you could tell.

One had strikingly blonde hair and a painfully nervous demeanor to her walk, the other had moth-like features and flowing gray hair with a large red bow at the back.

There was, however, something about the moth demon that was familiar to you. You just couldn’t point out what.

Adam and Lute arrived and sat at their respective places, and soon after, followed Sera and Emily. The trial then began.

Throughout the trial, you could see your previous expectations of the princess crumbling before you. You had assumed she had wanted to reach heaven on the false pretense of rehabilitation just to cause havoc here. But you were pleasantly surprised to see before you, an heir, who wanted to desperately help her people.

When you were allowed to take a glimpse at one of the candidates participating in the princess’ efforts of rehabilitation, you could see how he was steering away from the bad decisions he made earlier that night and stood up for his friends, even going as far as putting himself in danger.

You could also see he resembled a certain arachnid you knew.

Despite the evidence provided, Sera refused to budge and that is when Adam foolishly revealed his plans for extermination. Hearing this, Emily intervened asking Sera if she had any idea about this. Sera confirmed that she did and had allowed it for the safety of heaven.

You could’ve stood up and interjected but you didn't. You were frozen in your seat. You could hear your fellow council members whisper and chatter amongst themselves but you couldn’t bring yourself to participate.

Heaven was supposed to be this paradise where everyone was good and helped each other, out of the purity of their heart. It wasn’t supposed to be the hand behind mass genocides taking place every year.

The trial ended with the princess and her companion- who was revealed to be an angel, an exterminator to be specific- thrown out of heaven through a portal.

You immediately teleported yourself to Sera’s office. She was already present at her desk as soon as the trial ended.

“With all due respect, your Highness,” you started, “What in the actual fuck was that?”

Sera’s glare pierced through you, “Watch how you speak with me, guardian.”

“Why is one of the protectors of heaven willingly participating in exterminations- the likes of which seem completely unrequired?” you said, ignoring her threat.

“If you must know,” Sera gritted her teeth, “It was to protect heaven from the uprising in hell.”

Your eyes widened at the information. You spoke again, “And who…or what gave you the idea that there was an uprising going on in hell?”

You flinched as Sera shifted into her true form and leaned in closer to you, looking at you with every bit of anger and terror.

“You are not to question my decisions, guardian,” she started, “Leave. Immediately.”

You took a step back, your eyes not leaving Sera’s before you turned around and walked out of her office, shutting the door behind you.

When you were outside, you saw Emily in front of you. She seemed distressed, her eyes watering with every second that passed.

“Oh, darling,” you stretched out your arms, letting the younger seraph fall into them and cry into your shoulder, “It’s alright.”

“I- I didn’t know,” she struggled, her tears making it difficult for her to speak, “I-If I d-did…”

You gently shushed her as you ran a hand through her hair.

“I know…I know…”

You held the crying seraph in your arms till her trembling stopped.

You sighed as you finished the last of your paperwork.

Today was supposed to be extermination day.

Adam and Lute, along with their slew of exterminators, were going to go down and kill off staggering amounts of hell’s population and despite the powers you possessed, you could do nothing about it.

You’ve never felt so utterly helpless.

“Oliver, I’ll go deliver these reports to Sera.”

After a nod from him, you transported yourself to the front of Sera’s office with a snap of your fingers. You still remember the last time you came here. With a deep breath, you pushed the huge golden doors open.

“Your Highness, I have the reports…”

Your voice trailed off as your eyes saw what lay before you.

It was a snake like creature looking back at you with an awkward smile on his face. You could see his halo glowing atop his head.

You had seen him before.

You recalled the time of the trial when Princess Charlie was showing the court the progress being made by a certain Angel Dust towards redemption. During that, you could also see the other patrons of the hotel.

One of which…was the snake that stood before you.

Your mouth gaped open as your eyes flitted over to Emily’s gleeful look and Sera’s terrified one.

“It worked,” you whispered.

Sera quickly regained her poise and said, “Emily, would you please go ahead to help this…” she looked at the snake, “...new…resident settle in?”

Emily jumped out of her seat and excitedly nodded, “Of course! Right this way, umm…what was your name again?”

“Sir..Pentious,” the snake hissed out hesitantly, “Where…where am I exactly?”

Emily giggled out, “You’re in heaven! Welcome!” she said as she walked towards the door, “Oh, Princess Charlie would be so proud of you!”

“I’m sorry…who?”

Emily stopped and looked back at Pentious, her smile diminishing. She shifted her eyes to you and you looked at her helplessly.

“Right…” she mumbled out, before opening the door.

“Emily,” Sera called out.

The younger seraphim turned her head towards her.

“Not a word,” Sera reminded her, “Not a word until we figure this out.”

Emily nodded her head somberly and stepped out of the office, the new resident of heaven slithering closely behind her.

Sera let out a sigh and rested one hand against her head, cradling it as she leaned forward on her desk.

You flew towards her desk, after recomposing yourself, putting the reports you had intended to give to her atop the table.

You were about to turn around, leaving her in her lonesome before she called out your name.

“Yes, your Highness?” you asked.

“…I need you to do a job for me…” 

You burst into your office, startled to see Molly having a chat with Oliver as he rearranged your files. Amid her rant, you caught her eye and she turned to you happily. However, her smile faded seeing the distressed look on your face. She stood up, approaching you.

“Sugar,” she started, “Are you okay?”

“I..” you paused, “I’m fine.”

You continued, moving past the arachnid, “Oliver, I need your help packing my stuff.”

Oliver turned towards you with a confused look on his face, his hands laden with files.

“Pack?” he questioned, “Where are you going?”

“To hell,” you said, averting your eyes.

You heard a thump as Oliver lost his grip on the files and Molly gasped.

“To hell?” the female arachnid shook you by the shoulders, “What do you mean to hell!?”

Oliver approached you with the same curiosity. You sighed and explained, “Sera tasked me with going to hell to oversee some…business...”

Molly looked at you incredulously, “What…what- why?”

You gently lifted her hands away from you, “Look, I can’t say much. It’s confidential information but…” you paused, looking at her worried face, “I promise you, I will be fine and back in no time.”

Molly let out a sigh. Even though she looked conflicted she nodded her head, looking at you with a smile.

Oliver interjected, “And…what exactly made you…accept this task? She could’ve asked anyone, couldn’t she?”

You recalled your conversation with Sera. She had told you to oversee the working of the Hazbin Hotel and to send her daily reports on your findings.

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━

“You’re sending me there…to spy on them?” you had asked.

Sera hadn’t looked at you. Instead, she continued, “The balance between good and evil is being compromised,” she let out a sigh, “I need you to go there to help restore it.”

“And…why me?”

“Because you happened to see the new arrival and you witnessed the trial. I cannot risk anyone else knowing,” She ended.

She turned to look at you, her eyes fierce and her stance imposing.

“This is a command from the High Seraphim,” she started, “I hope you know that.”

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━

You looked towards Oliver, “How can I defy her Highness’ orders?”

He did not look convinced so you had to continue, “And because…” you looked at both Molly and Oliver, “I have a feeling I might find answers there…”

Your fingers brushed over the ring once in an effort to comfort yourself. Suddenly, you felt a pat on your shoulder and your eyes found Oliver’s. He smiled, his aged face giving a wise look to him.

“As long as you’re safe,” he said, “That is all we could ask for.”

You smiled and hugged the two of them, holding them close. Their embrace helped cool your anxious heart as you let yourself loose in their warmth.

You had no clue what to look forward to when you were to reach hell. But you knew, you had to take that step…for your own sake.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the hotel. It looked absolutely beautiful and grand-a place fit for the princess of hell.

You turned around to see the portal fizzing out, the remnants of your home disappearing before your eyes. You took a deep breath and forced a smile to your face, knocking on the large doors of the hotel.

You waited for a while before you saw the doors open, revealing a one-eyed demon who was dressed casually. Her eye flitted up to your halo and before you could get a word in, she slammed the door in your face.

You let out an indignant gasp and your eyes scrunched at this treatment. You were about to open the doors yourself but were interrupted by the Princess of Hell opening it for you.

She looked at you with wide eyes and you sensed that she was going to shut the doors once again but you stopped her, holding the door with your hand.

“I’ve come here by the orders of the High Seraphim… to give the hotel her blessings and oversee its welfare on her behalf.”

The princess’ eyes widened and a smile overtook her features. She eagerly pulled you by the arm and into the hotel, before excitedly exclaiming, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

Oh boy, you were in for a ride.

Taglist: @yumiburrito , @candyladycry , @sleepykittycx, @fairyv-ice , @sonatabee @preciousbabypeter, @mo-0-o

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x angel!reader

[raginglesbian2006]

A short Sneak peek no.2 for my newest chapter of Ne Me Quitte Pas

The golden sword moved like lightning, as your movements became swifter and more precise. Your breath came out in uneven huffs as you elegantly moved your way around the lonely hall, slicing the air with your weapon.

Suddenly, there was a change- a slight gust of wind blew through. Someone was here. Someone with the agility and patience to move towards you without making a noise.

You paused in your ministrations, only momentarily, before you swung your tightly held sword at your intruder.

The tip of your blade was met by two large pairs of eyes, looking back at you, terrified.

"Molly?"

A little announcement about the fic update here

Taglist: @yumiburrito , @candyladycry , @sleepykittycx, @fairyv-ice , @sonatabee @preciousbabypeter, @mo-0-o

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x angel!reader

[raginglesbian2006]

So I may have to delay the release of the new chapter of Ne Me Quitte Pas because I'm still working on it. It's gonna be one helluva chapter so gear in folks.

The chapter update will be pushed back to Thursday. Sorry for delaying the release. I just want to make sure my readers get the best quality of content possible.

So in order to compensate for this delay, I'll be posting a 2nd sneak peek for the newest chapter! Thank you for your patience <3

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x angel!reader

[raginglesbian2006]

He's my babyboi <3

I love him so much

#hazbin hotel fanart #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer

[raginglesbian2006]

Omg I love themmmm <3

Edits with my redesigns of the main cast of:

HAZBIN HOTEL !!

(refs of them here)

Charlie Morningstar ★

Alastor the radio demon ★

Angel dust ★

Vaggie ★

Husk ★

Niffty ★

Here are the originals, hope u like it !!

#hazbin hotel

[raginglesbian2006]

Partners in Death... and Life

Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From the Radio Should be Trusted

| Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn't Explain Himself| Part 4: Coming soon!| |Masterlist| ao3| Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason. Please take note of the following warnings: Body horror. Graphic descriptions of injuries, glass piercing skin, cutting of skin, cutting of chest. Dissection of Human muscles. Misogyny Just…be careful out there Hello. I usually aim to post on Wednesdays, and I knoooow it's not a Wednesday. But, in my defense, this chapter is longer than chapters 1 and 2 combined. Also, I tried to keep the body horror to a medium level. I tried to find a perfect balance of horrifying but also still readable. Would you guys want more body horror, or less, or is this a good amount?

The heart monitor beeps with a steady rhythm. The model’s ECG reading dip, but that’s normal for her species. You study the model asleep on your table, and take your place.

Turning to your interns, you adjust the fit of your gloves as say, “Are you ready?

From the other side of the table, Lys nods her head with such vigor that you’re afraid it would fall off. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be!”

Heme takes their place next to you, wheeling the cart within your reach. “Aren’t there supposed to be more people here?” they ask, adjusting the fit of their mask with their shoulder. “We don’t even have an anesthesiologist present, and the technician dumped the tools and left without a word!”

Sighing, you take another look at the screen, and monitor the patient’s ECG readings. Just a couple of decades ago, you wouldn’t even be allowed to take five steps into a surgical suite, but in your death, you stare at the state-of-the-art Vox technology heart monitor.

“This was dumped at the last minute. And the Vees paid a hefty amount for the best,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I guess it doesn’t help that most of the staff have clocked-off for the night already.”

“It really doesn’t,” Heme says. You think they frown, you’re not actually sure. It’s hard to tell with masks on, but Heme sounds like they’re frowning.

“On the bright side, this is a special case, and special cases require special means,” you say. “Stick around, and I’ll make sure to show you something amazing.”

Lys squeals, jumping a bit, “I can’t wait to see your work.”

You turn to Heme. “Tell how you were guided into stopping the bleeding by Doctor Neisseria.”

Heme straightens, round their shoulders. “Hemostatic dressing for the capillaries,” they recite. “Then Lys clipped the bigger vessels, and Doctor Neisseria used an electrocautery for any that we missed.”

“Good,” you say. “Lys, is this your first time using a clip?”

“…Yes,” Lys tells you. Even with a mask on, you could tell she was sulking.

You eye the cart between you and Heme, double checking that the technician brought everything you requested for. “It shows,” you say. “Practice every chance you get. Make a deal with some poor and down on their luck Sinner who wouldn’t mind making a deal for permission to poke around whenever you want. They’ll heal on their own if it’s not too severe…or don’t—I mean, that’s how I did mine.”

Lys blinks at you. “I’ll…keep that in mind.”

Your shoulder slumps. “…Shall we just begin?”

Heme hands you a needle driver, the needle already clipped to it. A bunch of suture forms around your palm. It’s study, and made of pure Sinner Magical Energy, or just magic or whatever. It comes out of your and you have full control, that’s all you need to know.

Heme and Lys lean closer to observe the threads you make.

I don’t get to do this often.” You turn your head, motioning to the detached arm placed on the side. The skin has been stretched and the jagged and stringy muscle fibers sticking out tell you it’s been ripped off rather than slice. The radius protrudes out into the air, jagged and sharp. It would have hurt this model quite a lot. “Steady her arm please.”

Lys snatches the arm, holding it with confidence as she steadies it. “This is so cool.”

Heme hums. “Cool in a gross way.”

“Whether your patient is awake or not, a steady hand is key,” you say. “When you pierce your needle, be sure to do it right at the epidermis when dealing with the skin. Too deep and you’ll puncture the arteries or nerves.”

Lys brings the arm closer, and you do the first suture that will connect the limb of Velvette’s model. Valen-something apparently tore her up, but it wasn’t enough to kill her. So, they rushed her into the Emergency Room three days before this poor girl’s debut, and dropped her into your care with her arm and leg in an ice box.

You sew the model’s arm. The threads around your fingers are light, but sturdy. You entwine some around your fingers like some puppet master for better grip. Blood vessels, bones, nerves, and muscles. Not a single cell escapes your control.  

You quiz your interns from time to time or tell them to take a closer look at where the vessels stick out the muscles, making sure they’re able to observe how a proper reattachment is conducted.

You study the threads connecting the arm to its body There are thousands of loose sutures. One single pull, and it will be completely reattached.

You shift your shoulders and crack your neck, giving it a slight stretch. “How long has it been?”

Lys glances at the clock behind you. “Five hours. I think it’s almost sunrise.”

“Be ready to be here for a while,” you say, rolling your shoulders. “The leg will be more complicated.”

Heme groans and their shoulder slump. “I guess I should just be thankful the model is mostly humanistic.”

You pull on the singular thread, and the stitches shorten until the arm is fully connected to its base. A thing line is the only indication that any limbs have been detached.

The door swings open and you snap your head at the sound.

“Hey doc!” The little Egg Boi saunters into the room, an envelope in his tiny hands. “I got something for you.”

Your feathers crack and sharpen. “If you wish to keep your shell,” you hiss at him, “you will leave this room before you contaminate it further.”

Egg Boi #04 wobbles a bit. “I was told to give you a message.”

A headache forms on your temples. You want to massage it, but that would contaminate your gloves. “Lys, show the egg to the observation room. Show him the microphone.”

Lys pouts a bit but exits the surgical suite.

Heme grabs the leg, and you begin again. You pause to take a deep breath. The threads don’t just appear out of thin air—they’re created because you will them to take shape. It gives as much as it needs to take from you.

Egg Boi# 04’s voice echoes on the speaker. “I have a note for you.”

“Read it then leave.” You pierce the tibia bone with your needle (special hell needle, you guess. Normal needles definitely cannot pierce bones) and connect it to the model’s leg.

Your concentration does not waver, even as Lys enters back into the room.

“My dearest good doctor,” Egg Boi #04 reads. “What a helltastic day for –"

“Stop!” you exclaim, and the threads you’re producing fizzle a bit, “Is that from Alastor?”

“Uhhh…yes?”

“Give me 10 minutes.” You sew the model’s leg just like before, starting from bones, then vessels, the muscles, and finally skin, but this time at a much faster pace.  

Thousands of strings connect the detached leg to its place.

Heme gawks at you. “I thought the leg was more complicated?”

“It is.”

“It took you five minutes to sew everything,” they say. “Why did it take the arm until sunrise?”

“You wouldn’t have been able to learn anything if I went too fast.” You hand the needle driver to Heme, who takes it with eager hands “I trust you will be able to close for me?”

“Yes!”

“Go around the skin—remember not too deep,” you say. “Once it’s all connected, just one strong pull and the threads should work their magic. Lys, once she closes, you can practice your knots.”

The door closes with a swing. You discard your gloves then peel off your protective layers, but you keep the scrub cap on your head.

The Egg Boi waddles into the room, threatening to tip any moment. He holds up Alastor’s note and you’re forced to bend when you reach for it.

You open the envelope and sigh. “This is a letter, and definitely not a note,” you say counting all the pages jammed into the envelope. “Notes are small pieces of paper, and not fifteen pages of paper scribbled back-to-back.”

You take one deep breath, flaring your nostrils as you contemplate your marriage choices, and begin reading.

Heme enters the holding room as you’re reading through the last page.

They take a look at the pages you’ve read. “Ohhhhh a letter?” they say, discarding their mask into the trash. Their gloves are next. “Who is it from?”

“My husband.”

“Why a letter?” Heme asks you “Why not just shoot you a text or a phone call?”

“He mumbles to himself when he writes, and he just loves hearing his own voice.” You turn to the Egg Boi once you’ve read the last word. “Tell Alastor I’m busy—I can’t leave work to go to the hotel on such short notice!”

“Right….” Heme leans against the sink. “Management will be dropping by this afternoon.”

Your eyes squint. “This afternoon? I was told there'd be visiting tomorrow!”

“Yes, they informed you last night,” Heme says. “It’s tomorrow now—morning, actually.”

Your eyes twitch as your turn to Egg Boi #4. “Tell him I will be early. Now go, run along now, least you get scrambled.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Bustling sounds from the other side of the circus themed doors. You knock then take a step backwards, least Vaggie greets you with a fist to the face.

A crash sounds from the inside. The door slams open, and Charlie pops out, hair disheveled and sticking out in odd places. You see the relief oozing into her. Charlie’s smile relaxes and her eyes stop bulging at the sight of you.

She says your name with enthusiasm. “It’s just you! I am so glad to see you.”

You wave at her. “Hello, Charlie. It’s good to see you as well.”

“Would you like to come inside?” she says at the same time another crash sounds. Charlie’s smile turns sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

“It’s quite alright,” you say with a polite smile. “Who am I to judge another person’s mess? It can be quite entertaining sometimes.”

 Charlies smoothens the stray hairs sticking out. It does little to actually fix it. “Sooooo what brings you by? Not that you’re not welcome here! Everyone is welcome here! We don’t discriminate at –”

The door swings wider and Alastor pops out with that permanent smile of his. “I called her here.”

Alastor helps you out of your coat as you enter through the doors, and drapes it over his arm. “I came early. I hope you don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the crudely attached banners. Strobe lights are being taped to the railings. Its brightness makes you blink. “Are you throwing a party? Is that why you called me here?”

Alastor hangs your coat on the rack. “We’re preparing for a sudden guest,” he says. “It seems we’ll have to delay our plans, only if you’re happy with waiting for me.”

Charlie shrinks and her eyes water a bit. “Alastor…,” she says with a frown. “If you have plans, that’s alright—go. We can manage without you here!”

“Not at all, this is where he needs to be right now,” you tell Charlie, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her smile brightens immediately. “Who will be the special guest today?”

Charlie fiddles with her fingers. “We…invite my…dad.”

Alastor twirls his microphone. “The King of Hell himself.”

“Oh,” you start, “the demon is coming here?”

“That’s actually Satan,” Charlie says with a smile. “Dad often gents confused with Satan but they’re not the same

“Oh…So, Lucifer is coming here.”

“Pretty much.”

You laugh a bit—you’re not even sure why. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed. It sounded so awkward, even to you. “Well, how can I help? If it’s alright with you, of course.”

Charlie’s eyes brighten, and she shakes your shoulders. “Are you sure?”

Alastor grabs Charlie’s fingers with the tip of his own and pry them off you. “I’ve already come all this way,” you say, and turn to your husband. “I’m sure we can make the most out of this situation.”

Charlie leaves to change her clothes, and hopefully brush her hair while she’s at it.

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his, even when you know it’s unnecessary to escort you to a living area that’s five-feet away.

He leaves you, walking to the kitchen with a wave of his microphone.

The hotel looks the same, just more diverse colors hanging around. Niffty stalks past you without a word, engrossed in her task of sweeping the floor. Angel Dust or Vaggie don’t seem to be around, nor is Husk at his usual post. Only a one-eyed cat keeps you company.

On the table,  deflated balloons are left forgotten with two pumps resting next to it. You take your seat, and complete the unfinished task.

You’re on the third balloon when Alastor presents a mug to you.

He leans over the chair, reaching his arms to place that ‘Oh Deer’ mug on the table. It’s difficult to meet his eyes when he leans so far in front that his whole face is upside down.

His hair hangs in the air, and your husband looks goofy in such an awkward position that you can’t help but laugh. “You look awful this hellish morning!” he says, and his grin widens until his teeth show. “I thought you could use a bit of brightening up. You’re practically dozing off in the chair.”

 “Thank you,” you say, a small smile on your face. “The coffee smells good.”

Alastor swings back, and lands next to you. “I know we agreed to leave such tasks to you,” he says and he waves his arms as he talks. “But you look ready to drop dead any second. Poor Niffty had swept about a hundred feathers on your short walk from the door to this chair—Long day?”

“Longer day, actually. Yesterday’s long day turned into a late night that bleeds into today’s early morning.” You take a sip, and revel in its taste. Even after all these years…his coffee still tastes like acidic bean water. (If you smile, then that’s your business.) “The coffee tastes good.”

Alastor crosses his leg, cracking a laugh hard enough for his eyes to bulge. “You didn’t even try to check if it’s been tampered,” he says with that same wild smile. “Are you that tired, my love?”

You smile at him, lips curving bright and wide. “My deerest, did you place something into my coffee?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s disappointing,” you say, taking another sip. “That suit of yours could use some brightening up! A splash of this bean water would add such an interesting texture to it.”

“We’ll it good to see you’re not tired enough to lose your way with words,” Alastor says, smiling at you. “But if you’ve had a ‘longer’ day, you could have sent the Egg Boy—"

“It’s Egg Boi, my deerest.”

Alastor squints, his brow furrowing as he does. “That’s what I said.”

“You said Egg Boy, deerest,” you tell him, taking a longer sip than usual to drown your laughter. “Those eggs are called Egg Bois. They have different numbers—except Frank.”

On the corner of his cheek—just where it’s always been—Alastor’s smile strains. “You said the same thing as I did.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

You chuckle a bit, and take another long slip. “If you say so.”

Alastor rolls his eyes and he makes it a point to show you he’s doing so. “You could have mentioned to that egg creature that you’d had a long day.”

“Management was dropping by my floor today.” You grab another balloon to pump it.

Alastor’s head tilts, and you hear the small crack of his neck. Static fills the air. “Well, I’m always glad to be used in such a way.”

You roll your eyes, making it a point to show Alastor that you’re doing so. The sharpened feathers and the glow of your eyes were just for the fun of it. “There is another reason why I dropped by the hotel.”

“Do tell!”

You knot the end of the balloon and throw it to the side. “Who am I to refuse the summon of the Radio Demon?”

“His wife.”

You snort, and toss a balloon at him. One balloon becomes two and now you’re just tossing whatever balloon you could get your hands on.

Alastor pops a balloon and static emits from his microphone.

You cross your arms, staring down at him. “I was going to use that.”

Alastor grabs the second pump. 

An hour passes too soon. They always seem to do around your husband. The balloons are stringed and weighted. Razzle and Dazzle—the two lambs Charlie made a point to introduce you too—put up a…er… interesting banner on the railings.

Sir Pentious slithers out the kitchen, a tray of cookies in his hold. The Hazbin Hotel looks lively. The space looks decent—live in — as if Sinners actually gathered and used the space. (Those are your favorite kind.)

Sir Pentious offers a cookie to you, and you munch on it. You give him a compliment for its taste.

By the entrance, with Vaggie to her side and Alastor at the other, Charlie takes a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she does.

Vaggie gives her a smile, and Charlie opens the door.

The bringer of sin rushes to his daughter, drowning her in a hug.“Chaaaaarlie!”

Charlie squirms in his hold. “Heeeyy, Dad!”

Egg Boi #13 and Egg Boi #08 twist their poppers and confetti pops into the air. Niffty grabs her broom, sweeping the floor.

You watch Lucifer, and try to hide your smile. The King of Hell looks different from any paintings or drawings humans make. They can’t seem to capture how shy he looks. How awkward. No painting has been able to capture his search for a place to belong.

This Fallen Angel has blond hair. He’s not the brunette you thought he’d be, which was a shame for you rather liked brunets. It makes sense he’d be blond. Afterall, Charlie has blonde hair as well, and she is the spitting image of her father.

If someone told you it was Lucifer who birthed her, you wouldn’t be able to deny it.

“It’s finally nice to put a name to the face.” Alastor shakes Lucifer’s hand with his microphone, wiping his own right after. “You are much shorter in real life.”

You turn aways, coughing to hide your laughter as Alastor banters with Lucifer.

Husk rolls his eyes at you and grumbles. “Of course, you’d find that hilarious,” he says. “Everyone knows it's smart to insult Lucifer.”

You place a hand on your cheek. “Guilty as charged.”

Charlie brings Lucifer to meet your group. He calls Vaggie, Maggie. Smiles awkwardly when Angel Dust calls him a ‘short king’. Lucifer waves back when Husk waves at him, and shrinks when Niffty jumps and pulls him by the collar. One by one, you’re introduced.

You extend your arm for a handshake.

Lucifer smiles awkwardly, shrinking a bit, but reaches out to shake your ha—

The chandelier crashes to the floor.

And oh God…

Lucifer begins to sing.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Your hair sticks to your face.

Water droplets splash on your clothes. You accept your fate, and trudge through the rain, even as your fingers freeze. The breeze blows your hair, making you nuzzle into your damp coat. You should have brought an umbrella, or taken a cab. Just your luck, a sunny day turns into a drizzle that turns your shoes into a lake. You hate damp socks.

An umbrella blocks the rain from your soaked clothes.

You spring out of its coverage, spinning to look behind. Your arms jerk out, causing you to wobble because of the wet pavement. (That’s totally not embarrassing.)

 “The point of an umbrella is to stay underneath it when it’s raining.” Alastor smiles, giving you a small wave.

You wave back.

“Oh…hello,” you say, adjusting the straps of your bag. Alastor takes a step forward, and you jump backwards. “I’m alright—I can manage by myself.”

“Why don’t you tell me all about your very capable self from underneath the umbrella,” he says, twirling the umbrella. “Come on, now.”

You dip your head inside. Alastor inches closer, but there’s still a respectable gap between your shoulders. “I’m really alright,” you say. “I quite love the rain.”

“Yes, the rain is a beautiful thing to frolic underneath when you’re in a meadow,” Alastor says. You can’t help but feel that Alastor is scolding you, “not when it splashes off buildings and drips off power lines and other items that have not been cleaned. We are in the city, my dear.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“My mother would roll in her grave and haunt me when she finds out I left a lady in the rain.”

“But—”

“Constant refusal is quite rude, you know,” he tells you. “And I still owe you one favor.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Alastor says with a smile that makes you smile back. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I’m happy to leave my umbrella in your umbrella-less but capable hands, and be on my way.”

You shake your head, inching closer. “We can share if you don’t mind walking.”

“I love walks. It keeps me stimulated.”

Alastor follows your every step, covering you with an umbrella that was meant for one. You glance at his shoulder, and turn away to hide your frown. Half of his shoulder sticks out into the rain, gathering droplets, while not a single speck of water slides on you.

Alastor is giving you the bigger half of the umbrella.

“Would you mind holding this?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you say, and take a hold of his umbrella. Alastor is taller, and you have to quirk your arms higher to avoid hitting his head.

Alastor slips out of his coat. You watch him slide it off his shoulders and pull his arm out the slits. He’s wearing a vest—a fine vest as well. Alastor flicks out stray waterdrops. He leans close enough for you to smell his cologne. He drapes his coat over your shoulders, grabbing the lapels to adjust its fit. His body heat lingers. It’s warm…he’s warm.

Alastor pries the umbrella from your grip with a wide smile. “Before you say anything, the only response that I will be accepting is, ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you, Alastor.”

“You’re welcome.” He adjusts the angle of the umbrella, careful to keep every drop of rain from touching you, even at the cost of his own clothes. “Whatever made you decide to walk?  There are cabs and busses for a reason.”

“It wasn’t that bad when I started,” you say. “Plus, I was eager to get home.”

He keeps his eyes ahead. “It’s still quite dangerous.”

You step over a puddle, narrowly missing it. “Dangerous?”

“Yes!”

“The sun is—well, was still up when I began walking.”

Alastor hums, shaking his head. “Murders and thieves do not magically dissolve in the sun.”

You smile to yourself. “I’m sure you’re quite knowledgeable on that subject.”

Alastor turns to you, and his hair shifts as he tilts his head. “Pardon?”

“I heard your voice on the radio this morning,” you tell him, adjusting his coat around your shoulders. “I caught the news segment.”

“Well,” he starts, his smile widening. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “you must have been busy when I mentioned the forecast then.”

You inch closer as much as he’ll allow you, trying to keep a respectable distance, but still close enough that Alastor doesn’t need to sacrifice his clothes to keep yours dry. “Speaking of radio, what brings you to this area?” you say. “Isn’t the radio station all the way across town?”

Alastor laughs in a way that makes you wish you’ve kept your mouth shut. “Have you been tracking my movements?”

“Not at all,” you say and try to mimic his laugh. It comes out strained instead. “I just know how to read a map.”

Alastor steps over a puddle. He places a hand on your back, guiding you away from it. “I just had some business in the area,” he says and drops his hand. “I turned the corner and I found you walking all alone in the rain!”

You smile, careful to keep your eyes forward. “I’m thankful to whatever beings that fated our paths to cross.”

Alastor leans closer, eyeing your hands. “Been gardening recently?”

You glance at your nails, at where stubborn soil sticks underneath the cuticle. “No…not at all,” you say slowly. “I guess you could say…light treasure hunting…?”

“The more I get to know you, the more I find myself dumbfounded at your wide range of hobbies.”

“I hate seeing things go to waste.” You try to ignore the squish of your socks. You are definitely never forgetting your umbrella again. “For example, your garbage is my treasure.”

“What a wonderful philosophy to live by.” Alastor meets your eyes and smiles.

You smile back. “Indeed, isn’t it?”

Alastor’s hold on the umbrella stays firm, even as he follows you around the corner and across the street. Not a single drop of water lands on you. “What treasure were you able to find?”

“You have a lot of questions for me today,” you say and ignore the thumping of your heart. “I feel as if you know me more than I know you—I think that’s rather unfair.”

“Well, what would you like to know?”

You move your foot to avoid puddles of trash. The city could really use a good cleaning. “You know so much about my hobbies. So, I’d like to know some of yours.”

“There isn’t really much to tell,” he says. “The radio is my life.”

A strong breeze has you sinking deeper into Alastor’s coat. “You have your hunts.”

You glance at Alastor, and oh…his hair is as brown as his eyes. Wisps of hair stick to his face because of the rain.

Alastor’s brows furrow a bit, but you swear his smile turns sweet. “Those are more of… a necessity than a hobby.”

“In what way?”

“The woods around my area have a lot of… let’s say… mammals that don’t necessarily belong there, it is as if someone just leaves them from time to time. I hunt a few here and there to thin the population a bit.”

You smile to yourself. “Well, tell me about the radio—What is that like?”

He places his free hand on his chest. “Why, it is the proper medium of expressing oneself, of course.”

“It must be nice having such a creative outlet,” you say. “Sometimes, I wonder how you’re able to come up with the most exciting segments.”

“Sadly, you would think after all these years of bringing success and money into the company, I would be allowed to have more control over my content.”

You step over another puddle. A small tug on Alastor’s arm, and he steps over it as well. “That is quite sad to hear.”

“For example,” he starts, adjusting his hold on the umbrella. “I wanted to have this whole portion just on crimes that have been committed.”

“Like… the news?”

“No, not at all,” he says. “I was thinking more on the lines of old cases like robberies and murders—some solved, some not. Unfortunately, the director said it would be too gruesome.”

“It really depends on how you choose to present it,” you say. “I think audiences would love a good mystery with a satisfying conclusion.”

“That is exactly what I thought so as well!” Alastor’s smile widens. “I came across this story…Oh, well I wouldn’t want to bother you with the details.”

“I’d love to hear this,” you say, chuckling. “Show me how you would present it.”

“One winter night,” he starts off with that never ending smile on his lips, “a child—no ordinary child—disappears in the middle of the night. There were no signs of a break in and nothing other than the child was taken from the home. Not a single dust was out of place.”

“Wait, what was so special about the child?”

“I will tell you,” he says. “That child was the two-year old son of aviator Charles Lindenberg! Some newspapers called the child the ‘Eaglet’ because his father had become the first man to fly across the Atlantic Oce—Oh, why are we stopping?”

He angles the umbrella, careful to keep you dry. You smile at him and point at the small apartment complex behind you. “This is where I live.”

Alastor doesn’t frown, but his smile droops a bit. “Oh…” he says. “I was getting to the most interesting portion of the story—what a shame.”

“A shame, indeed,” you echo. “You have such a captivating way of conveying your words.”

“Thank you.”

The rain splatters on the umbrella. It’s not going to stop anytime soon. Your socks are damp and it’s starting to get colder. “Would you like to finish what you were saying?”

Alastor’s smile widens, just a bit, but it was enough for you to notice. “On the month of May, after continuous searching, a tiny little corpse was found abandoned on the side of the road. Forensics determined that the baby was bludgeoned to death.”

“It’s quite funny,” you tell him. “You talk of such gruesome murders but I find myself captivated.”

“Indeed.”

“Thank you for going out of your way for me, Alastor.” You slip out of his coat, returning it to him. It’s cold—has it always been this cold. “Will I see you around?”

“Of course,” he says. “We always meet in such unconventional places.”

You duck out of the umbrella, giving him one last smile and head up the steps.  A twist of a doorknob, a few flights of stairs, and you would be home. You were tired, your socks are soaking, and the back of your clothes stick to your skin. So, why…why do you find yourself running back into the rain?

“Wait!” you find yourself exclaiming.

Alastor covers you with his umbrella. “What’s wrong?”

‘I… I may have a problem.” The words are slipping out of your lips. “Are you busy by any chance?”

“Not at all.”

“What about your business in the area?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. “I can always come back.”

 “Would you help me?” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Of course.” Alastor brings the umbrella closer to you. “What can I do for you?”

“I think…” you begin to say. Stop. Stop! You should turn back; head inside where warm clothes and a bath awaits you. “I think I’m in the wrong area.”

Alastor laughs, and it’s that same breathy and light laugh as before. He drapes his coat over your shoulder once more, and adjusts its fit to secure it around you. It’s the warmest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I left a lady stranded in the rain.”

“Not at all,” you say with a smile that you do not remember smiling. “Lots of scary thieves and murders out there—apparently they don’t disappear during the day.”

Alastor nudges you along, down the path, to a destination either of you have the faintest idea where it will end.

Your feet stay locked in its place, and you hold Alastor in your gaze. (His bowtie is crooked, and even with his coat around you, he looks presentable. His vest matches his shoes. You note how his smile is asymmetrical, and how his eyes are still as brown as his hair. Alastor’s glasses are frosted, but he doesn’t seem to mind.)

“Are you alright?” Alastor asks you.

“I’m fine. It’s just….” You shake your head and smile. “It would be a waste to forget this.”

“Come on,” Alastor says in a voice that is oh so soft. He offers his arm, and you hook your own around his.

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“Motherfucker!” Husk curses into the air, his ears quirking as he does. “Would it fucking kill you to be gentle with that shit?”

“I am being gentle.” You stare him down, keeping the towel pressed firm against his foot. “Would you want to know what it’s like when I’m not? I’d be very happy to comply.”

“………No.”

“Then settle down, Husker,” you say and use your free hand to grab the forceps from the hotel’s medical kit. “This will be much easier if you stay still…or don’t and give yourself a harder time. I’m not the one with glass sticking out of my foot.”

Husk sinks into the clinic bed, sulking as he crosses his arms. He picks on the pillow, fidgeting with its seams. “Bitch.”

You raise your eyebrows and huff. “Virgin.”

Husk’s fangs show when he growls. “I am not…grandma.”

Your feathers bristle. It’s smart to keep Husk talking, even if hurling insults is the way to do so. If it keeps him distracted, you won’t complain. “I died in my late twenties…or was it my early thirties — I honestly forget.”

The blood on his foot begins to clot, and you toss the towel to the waste basket. You walk to the sink, rinsing stray droplets of Husk’s blood with soap.

“Settle down then, grandma,” he says with a triumphant smile, and you roll your eyes. “Today, it’s your memories. Tomorrow, it could be anything.”

You plop on the clinic chair, waiting for your hands to dry. “Yes, it would make sense you’re familiar with the signs,” you shoot back, “considering you lived long enough to be called Pawpaw — Is that why you’re a cat?”

Husk barks a laugh, his wings flaring. He grabs the pillow and tosses it to you. It hits the side of the chair and langs on your lap. You pick it up and toss it back at him. “At least my husband didn’t walk out on me for several years without so much as a word.”

You chuckle, and settle his foot on your leg for better access. Taking your forceps, you brush away slivers of glass from Husk’s foot …or would this be his paw?

You clip a shard of glass, and glance at him. When Husk doesn’t whine like a little bitch, you pull a shard and drop it to the metal pan across you. “At least my marriage lasted even through death, Arachnid Simp.”

Husk rolls his eyes. You smile when his whiskers twitch. “Where did you even learn that word?”

“I see you’re not going to deny it.”

Husk sinks deeper into the bed.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you—I don’t know—wore these things called shoes?” You pluck another shard of glass. Husk tries to jerk his foot away, but your hold stays firm. “They were invented a long, long, time ago, and were created to keep your feet protected.”

“Stop talking as if I’m a child.” Husk frowns and his teeth stick out. “Wearing them feels weird.”

“I guess they kind of are weird.” You grab a fresh towel when blood squirts out of Husk’s foot. “You die and then suddenly waking up to see you don’t have toes

A beat passes between you. “Do you…do you not have toes?”

You toss the towel, and pick out the last shard. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”

“What does that even mean?” Husk growls, running his palms over his face.

“I…have absolutely no idea.”

You reach into the medical kit, grabbing some dressing. You peel the plastic and toss it to the trash, and press it against his foot.

Egg Boi #03 waddles up to you, a gauze roll in his tiny hands — you weren’t aware the little egg creature was in the room. You thank him with a smile, and wrap the gauze roll around Husk’s paw then his ankle. Satisfied, you clip it in its place.

“You’re all done,” you say. “It might be weird to step on it for a few hours, but it’s not impossible. The glass didn’t puncture you too deep.”

“Good to know.”

“Oh…and just in case, the amount of blood you saw isn’t anything to be scared of. There’s just a lot of tiny vessels on the foot. That’s why it took a while for it to stop,” you say and toss him a new set of gauze rolls and pads.

Husk stares at the items. “I don’t know how to use this.”

You stare at him, leaning into the chair. “Just slap the square on the skin and roll the gauze around your foot.”

Husk hops out of the clinic, keeping pressure off his injury.

It takes a while to clean up after yourself, but Egg Boi #03 keeps you company. The little egg speaks a lot of nonsense, but it’s entertaining nonetheless. You flick the lights, and Egg Boi #03 follows behind you.

The chandeliers had been dragged away, and the glass and debris cleared off the carpet.

Mimzy’s hug makes you take a step back.

You squirm in her hold, placing a placating hand on her shoulders.

“I am sooooo glad you are here!” Mimzy exclaims, shaking your shoulders. “This is like one big reunion, ay. Just between you and me, that Lucifer is a real looker—shame on Alastor for not warning a gal. I would have dressed better, and who knows? Maybe I could be the Queen of Hell. Ha!”

Mimzy grabs your arm and drags you to the bar. Husk pours you a drink with a nod, and stalks away. Seeing him hop up the stairs makes you laugh.

You swirl your drink. “It’s always good to see you, old friend.”

“Not that old!” Mimzy swats your arm, a huge grin on her lips. “And there’s no need to lie to me, darling. I doubt you actually feel that way.”

“Well, I still have those burn marks on my wall from the time you decided to play bartender with matches.”

Mimzy barks a laugh, and her legs kick. “C’mon you can’t still be blaming  me! If I remember correctly, it was Alastor who brought out the matches.”

Angel Dust walks up to you with Sir Pentious trailing behind him. You wave.Sir Pentious waves back, his hood flapping open.

“Mind if we join ya?” Angel Dust asks.

“Not at all,” Mimzy says. “I’m always weak to such lookers.”

Angel Dust takes the seat next to you and pushes back his hair. Sir Pentious takes the one behind him. “Sooooo, you two and Alastor run in the same circles.” He takes a drink. “And you guys are friends with him?”

You take a sip of your own drink. “You could describe it that way.”

“Well, those are your words, not mind, but I think it fits.” Mimzy glances at you, a knowing smile on her lips. “But our good doctor here is more than just—Hey! Why do you look so surprised?”

“Well, I just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery,” Angel Dust says. Sir Pentious nods, his head squeaking as he does “What's his deal?”

Mimzy is happy to explain tall, dark, and creepy’s ‘deal’.

“But before that, he was the prime bachelor of my day,” Mimzy says. “Not a single lady wouldn’t want a taste of that twink. But eh… I wouldn’t wish marriage with Alastor on even my worst enemies. It would be a real shock when you die and find out your hubby’s got a real screw loose.”

“Well, it wasn’t a shock to me,” you say, rolling your eyes. You swirl your drink—hmmm, it’s good to know Husk still knows what you like.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Mimzy chuckles nervously. She scoots closer, elbowing you lightly.  “You happy he’s back? I still remember the few months you’d visit my place to look for your deerest, most darling Alastor, Mimzy at the bottom of a bottle.”

Your eyes twitch. “Quite pleased actually,” you say and force a smile. “It’s great to finally see my husband again.”

“Husband?” Angel Dust chokes on his drink.

Sir Pentious tilts his head and his hat slides off a bit. “Oh you’re married?”

You show them your ring, wiggling your finger. “Indeed.”

Sir Pentious puffs out his chest. “I would love to meet thisss husband of yours,” he says. “If you cannot be my rival, he can fight in your stead.”

“That wouldn’t be a smart idea

Mimzy stares at him. “He’s not the brightest is he?”

Angel Dust drops his drink with a clink. “Pause,” he splutters. “Shut u—” He coughs, still reeling from his drink going down the wrong pipe. “Shut up. Plause. Pause!”

Sir Pentious frowns, and his tongue sticks out. “No one elssseee is talking.”

“There is no way,” Angel Dust says. He turns to you, eyes bulging. “I refuse to believe that Freaky got hitched.”

Sir Pentious gapes, and his hoop opens. “Alastor is married as well?”

Mimzy slaps her forehead and points to you. “He’s married to her!”

“You are mess’in with me,” Angel Dust says. “Well, you can’t trick me. I refuse to believe it, toots.”

Mimzy takes a swig of her drink. “No one’s mes’in with ya,” she says with bright eyes. “They had a big white wedding and everything. I even got to bless them with my singing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Mimzy glares at Angel Dust, a hand on her hips and her noise in the air. “You calling me a liar?”

You place a hand on Mimzy’s shoulder. “It was a good day, wasn’t it?” you say.

“Could’ve been better without the rain,” she says shrugging.

The lights flicker. Static fills the air, making your skin buzz. The bar glows a faint green. “The rain made it sentimental actually,” you say and glance up the stairs. “We quite like the rain.”

Angel Dust crosses both sets of arms. “I thought you said you were friends.”

“I said partners,” you tell him. “Alastor said friends.”

Angel Dust blinks at you and sighs. “So, you married him? Like you’re his wife.”

“I am, indeed!”

“Are you sure?”

“I sure hope so,” you say, crossing your legs. “It would be weird not to be sure considering I was there in a white dress, walking down the aisle.” Mimzy barks a laugh, and the feathers on her head sway. A part of you hopes she topples off the chair.

“Uh…Is this something we should know?” Angel Dust asks. “He’s not going to try to kill me because I learned about this right?”

“We’re not trying to hide it, but we don’t broadcast it either,” you say. “And well…no wife likes to be introduced as a ‘friend’.”

Sir Pentious’ tongue sticks out. “Does Alasssstor own your soul or something?”

You empty your drink and revel in the taste. “We got married back when we were alive.”

Angel Dust reaches across the bar, grabbing a whole bottle off the shelf with his long arms. He pops open the cork and takes a swig straight from the bottom. “I still have trouble belive you,” he says, squinting his eyes. “I just…I can’t!”

“Your belief, or lack of, won’t change the fact that I have a ring,” you say. “And it’s not really for you to believe, now is it?”

“Why…?” Angel Dust’s mouth quirks into the cutest frown. “Why…ya’know?”

You sigh and place a hand on your cheek with a smile. “He makes me laugh.”

Angel Dust makes a face, and coils back like he’s been shot.

“Oh he’s a total kitten,” Mimzy says with a bright smile. She inches her glass closer to Angel Dust, and he fills it up for her. “Catch him in a good mood or pour him a drink and play some jazz and he’s totally harmless.”

“You still shouldn’t toss caution into the air, Mimzy” you say. “If I were you, I’d be wary about trusting Alastor just because he likes cleaning up your mess.”

Angel Dust crosses his arm, and his eyebrows quirk. “Ain’t he your hubby?” he says. “Isn’t there this whole spiel about trust and love and faith and all that other boring vanilla shit.”

“He wouldn’t be the Radio Demon if he could be trusted by just anyone, now would he?” you say. “It still crosses me when I remember how he lied to me.”

Angel Dust’s eyes shine. “You said no wife likes being introduced as a ‘friend’.”

“Yes?”

“It must have crossed you quite a lot, huh?”

You shrug, a bit confused. “I mean… I wasn’t really a big deal at the end of the day.”

Angel Dust’s smile widens and that golden tooth of his shimmer. “I want to know everything.”

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Despite the rain, clear skies show the moon, not a cloud in sight.

The flashlight clipped on your collar shines on your path. Your boots sink deep into the mud, but that’s alright. A few inches of goo won’t stop you from your destination. You adjust your leather medical bag—double checked that there are gloves inside.

Between those two trees, your treasure lies buried.

You lay your kit on some nearby stones and reach in for your gloves. You dig until bits of the cadaver’s skin stick out. You brush the soil of his chest and peel open the flaps of his skin. The underside of his skin has blood vessels attached to it. It was worth cutting out the fat to have a glimpse.

Superficial fascia connects his muscles to his dermis. You take your probe and disconnect the thin filament. It reminds you of spider-webs.

You discard your probe and exchange it for the bottle of formaldehyde. You can’t study the whole body, not when it’s exposed to the elements. His fingers are starting to rot, but that’s alright. The chest is all you need, for now. So, the chest is all you’ll preserve.

The cheesecloth you placed on him last night is still damp. Good, that means it’s been sanitized this whole time. You take the cheesecloth and wife it against his open cavity, sanitizing every surface you can reach.

The formalin stings your nose and burns your eyes. It makes you cough, but you push through the pungent chemical.

You peel off the cheesecloth and use it to spread formalin into the deeper crevices between his skin and muscle.

Good. There are no maggots yet. It means you still have time.

You discard your gloves for a fresh pair and prepare your tools. You take your forceps and clip the scalpel blade onto the handle. You lay all your tools on a clean cloth for easy reach.

A human’s adipose tissue buildup is thicker than animals. This man’s fat is soft, easily squishable. Sadly, you’re not here to study his fat.

The scalpel blade is balanced perfectly. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

You slice through his adipose tissue, discarding it behind you, carving the cadaver until a nice rectangle opening forms. Muscles are grey, not like the red color printed on textbooks. You run your fingers along the smooth fibers of his pectorals. It’s slimy. That’s probably moisture mixing with the formaldehyde.

You quirk your shoulder to adjust the angle of your flashlight, still running your hand on his pectoral.

There, on the side of the chest where a muscle resembles a fan, do you find what you’re looking for.

Taking your probe, you define the muscle. You don’t use your scapple—never a scapple, because it could slice the fibers. You’ll scrape off the muscles later when it’s time to move on to the systems.

You take a pen and write your notes.

Muscle name: Serratus Ventralis. Description: The Serratus Ventralis appears to be a fan-shaped muscle, just like Hyman writes it to be. Although he’s not describing humans, I think it looks the same. Will double check to see if such similarities are indeed correct. Just like the book says, I can see the muscle extending anteriorly and posteriorly from the scapula and to the walls of the thorax. The Serratus Ventralis appears to be divisible into anterior and posterior portions, with the anterior originating deeper into the body. (Will cut open if there is still time.) The posterior border seems to be where it originates from, and while it is buried by other muscles, I think it originates from somewhere between the ribs. Origin, Insertion, Action: Origin: Textbook says it originates from the outer surfaces of the upper eight or nine ribs.  (Will double check once I’ve moved on.) Insertion: The muscle fibers appear to move upward to the side. Inserts along the anterior surface of the medial border of the scapula Action: If it indeed is inserted from the scapula, this could mean that it could draw the scapula, forward, backward or against the body.

You flip to the previous page, and cross out Serratus ventralis. You move on to the muscle on your list: Xiphihumeralis. Based on the name, the muscle should pass through the xiphoid process to the sternu—

“Is this what you meant about my trash being your treasure?”

You startle, jumping back until a tree hits you and there’s nowhere else to escape. Run. Run. Run! Your heart screams at you, hammering in your chest. No one is supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be alone. You were careful—not careful enough, apparently.

Alastor emerges from the trees.

He waves at you when your gazes meet, but you don’t wave back. He’s smiling. “Hello,” he greets you with a gentle voice that strikes your core. It would be foolish to mistake his gentleness for kindness. “And yet again, I’m forced to comment on how you have such interesting hobbies.”

You press deeper into the tree, even if a knot digs into your back. “This….” You pause, trying to find your voice. Do you run? “This isn’t a hobby. I’m merely studying.”

Alastor drops a bag on the ground. It looks heavy. “A man?”

“A cadaver,” you say, careful to keep your voice steady. You cannot let this man see any cracks. “They’re already dead, aren’t they? Wouldn’t it be a waste to let them rot like this? At least now, their sorry lives will be making a meaningful contribution.”

The admission of your crime was easy to say. You don’t want to know what that means about you.

Alastor laughs. It’s not that breathy and light laugh he had earlier. This one is lighter, more elated. “Please, tell me more.”

You harden your heart, searching for any speck of bravery. “Why would I?”

Alastor smiles until his teeth show. The moon makes his brown eyes glow—you did not think it would be such an attractive color. “I’m the one holding the large knife.”

You glance at his hand, and oh…that indeed is quite a large knife. It’s not even a kitchen knife, but a proper hunting blade meant to kill. “I see you’re resorting to threats,” you say and you don’t know why you do. It’s not really a smart idea. “I did not think you, a man, would feel the need to say such things to a woman.”

“That was barely a threat,” he says. “I’m just curious to know your motivation to dig up trash.”

“I’m studying—that’s my reason.”

Alastor waves the knife as he talks. “Are there no other dead bodies for you to prey on?” he says. “Don’t hospitals have an area specifically to keep the dead?”

“Only morticians or medical students are allowed access,” you say. “I am neither.”

“Why not become one then?”

“Women as doctors are still a relatively new phenomena,” you say. “There is not a single medical school in this area that will allow me to study, nor are there any that won’t bring me into debt.” Your blood boils and it replaces your thumping heart. It still beats in your chest, but it’s not because of fear. “I needed to find a way to learn, to study, and textbooks could only describe it in words. I want to see for myself.”

Alastor plays with the tip of the knife. “Sounds like a classic case of lusting for knowledge.”

“If lust is to be my sin,” you start and a wonky smile appears on your face, “pride would be yours. A classic case of judge, jury and executioner.”

“I do not need to explain myself to you.”

“Well, you are holding the larger knife,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “Anything more you’d like to know?”

Alastor hums at you. “How did you figure it out?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” you say, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. “You should buy suspicious items at different times and places. Your turn—How did you know I was here?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” he echoes laughing like he’s told the funniest joke. “You shouldn’t have told me where you lived so easily. I thought I would have to hang around your clinic for a few days before I got your address.”

“I made sure to be careful.”

“You weren’t in the slightest,” he tells you. “Even an animal is harder to track. It was quite a surprise to see you heading in this direction.”

“Wait…,” you say slowly. “Hang around the clinic? You…you were stalking me?”

“I wouldn’t say stalking,” he says, putting his arms up. “And if we’re pointing fingers, you would have had to follow me around for a few days to learn where I buried my trash.”

Your eyes drift to his bag, and then to his knife. Realization hits you like a cruel bus. You face heat. “You!”

“Me?”

“You lied to me!” you say, venom lacing your words as you puff. “You had no business in the area, nor did you randomly spot me! You followed to kill me, didn't you?”

Alastor smiles at you.

“Oh my God!” you scream at him, throwing your arms into the air. You point at him, glaring “You’re still going to kill me?”

“I can’t exactly let you leave, my dear,” he says, rolling his eyes. “What did you think?”

You stare down at him from your nose. “Don’t be so brainless,” you spit, crossing your arms. “If you would use this thing on your head called a, ‘brain’, and use it to think, you would be able to deduce that you’re currently not in cuffs.”

Alastor glares back at you, tightening his grip on the knife. You don’t give a single flying fuck.

“Since you are adamant on not using your brain, I shall do so for you,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “If I wanted to rat you out to the coppers, wouldn’t I have done so already? Hmmmm?”

“Don’t speak to me as if I am a child.”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you aren’t thinking like one,” you say. “Why would I tattle on someone for giving me what I want.”

 Alastor gives you a dry smile. “So much sarcasm to the person who does so.”

You cross your arms and lean against the tree. “I suppose I should be thanking you.”

“Will you?”

“No,” you say. “I don’t thank liars.”

You smile to yourself when Alastor rolls his eyes and furrows his brow. That strained smile of his is an extra bonus.

“If you’re going to kill me, be quick with it,” you say. “I’d like to die with my dignity as a lady.”

“How curious,” he says. “You’re not going to try and run? Fight me off in some clever way? Those are always the best kinds of hunts.”

You roll your eyes, making a point to show him that you are doing so. “That would be a waste of our time, wouldn’t it? And I think you’ll forgive me if I am not exactly keen on giving my murderer the satisfaction of experiencing ‘the best kinds of hunt’.”

Alastor laughs, breathy and light this time. He tosses the knife into the trees and puts his arms up as if surrendering. “It seems you have made me change my mind,” he says. “Not many are able to do so—especially not when I’ve settled on a hunt.”

“What an honor then,” you say, smiling dryly.

“Indeed, it is.” He takes a step forward, and when you don’t run, he walks to you and brushes stray dirt off your shoulders.

“Why change your mind?”

He smiles, inching closer to you.  That is for me to know,” he says. “But, what I will say is I know potential when I see it.”

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“Someone, please, kill me again!” Angel Dust massages his forehead with one arm, using the other to empty the bottle. His third arm reaches into the bar shelves for a new one. You stare at his arms and wonder just how it got to be so long. “You’ve got to be shiting me right now. That’s your example? That’s your final answer?”

You pick at the wooden table, suddenly finding it hard to meet his eyes “Yes…?”

Angel Dust chugs his bottle at your answer. Mimzy avoids direct eye contact, choosing to study her empty glass. Even Sir Pentious keeps his gaze locked to the floor.. You bite on your cheek, letting out a soft huff.

If they didn’t want to know, they should not have asked.

“Out of all the misery he’s caused and will be causing,” Angel Dust says, “you think that Freaky ly’in to you about his reason for walking you home was the best possible example.”

“Yes?”

Angel Dust takes a deep breath. “Let’s be clear, okay? I’ll rephrase what I said, so listen closely,” he says. “Alastor lied about – and let me get this right—he lied to you about why he was in the area, and that’s why – hold on, bear with me – and that is why you were angry.”

You cross your arms, huffing a bit. “You make it sound stupid.”

Mimzy sighs, shaking her head with amusement. “That’s because it is, darling.”

“It is not!” you say, pouting. “It’s a very valid reason to be cross.”

Angel Dust takes another swig of his bottle. “It’s the fact that you weren’t angry that he was going to murder you in cold blood for me.”

You throw your arms into the air. “Okay, so it might not have been the best example,” you say, tapping your legs. “But that isn’t exactly my fault. Alastor is strangely honest.”

Angel Dust gapes at you. “No, he is not!”

“I don’t know, hun,” Mimzy says, leaning against the bar table. “Alastor kina is.”

“You won’t get the truth if you don’t ask,” you say, nodding your head. “And when you do ask, Alastor will either say the full horrifying truth, say it in a way that’s vague but still considered to be true, or dodge and not answer your question.”

Sir Pentious tilts his head, and he keeps a hand on his hat to keep it from falling. “And that is why we should not trust him?”

“There is no we, my dear,” you say. “That’s why you shouldn’t trust him.”

The hotel trembles.

You startle in your seat, gripping the table for stability. Mimzy clutches your arm, and you grab hers. It’s a small reassuring gesture that would make you smile at any other moment. Someone pounds on the door. You snap your head towards the entrance, nearly giving yourself whiplash. The hinges creak with every bang, and you watch with horror as the wooden frame begins to crack. Whatever wants to go in is determined to do so.

“MIMZY! We know you’re in there, you lousy bitch!”

You lock eyes with Mimzy, glaring at her with bristled feathers. “Really?”

“Whooops…?” she says with the most innocent smile. You grab your glass and throw it at her head. Mimzy snarls at you, searching for a stray bottle. She never finds it.

Glass rains down to the floor. Dust fills the space, and you cough when it irritates your throat. The whole hotel is in disarray. With a yelp, you jump away from the bar when one of the bone heads detaches and crushes your seat.

Mimzy scurries behind the bar.

A portal rips open in the middle of the room…Huh, that’s pretty cool. Vaggie steps out, Lucifer and Charlie behind her. “What is going on?”

Mimzy explains what she did. You roll your eyes when she does.

Fireballs shoot out the broken windows.

Motherfucker! You are going to kill Mimzy. You press against the wall to avoid Sir Pentious’ long tail from smacking into you as he slithers about. Angel Dust scurried away at the first sign of trouble. Of-fucking-course this happens today. Niffty scurries about, cleaning every debris in sight, You grab her by the collar, pulling her away from a stray fire. Niffty squirms out of your hold, and hops away. Another fireball keeps you from pursuing her.

“We’re under siege!” Sir Pentious exclaims, slithering about. “Take cover!”

 Alastor pops out of your shadow, jerking your arm to pull you away.

You flap your arms, trying to regain your balance.

Alastor keeps a steady hand on your shoulders, his hold on your firm. His touch keeps you grounded. You glance back to the wall, frowning when the wood burns and char. Your finger digs into the fabric of his coat as the hotel burns around you.

You hold his gaze, trying to give him your best smile. “Much better?”

“No,” he says, his eyes squint into a glare. Alastor doesn’t frown, but his teeth bare into a snarl. “Are you hurt?”

Alastor smoothens the feathers on your hair. You shake your head. “Not a single feather out of place. Thank you, my deerest.”

“All of you get a safe distance,” Vaggie says, spear raised.” I’ll take care of this.”

 Satisfied, Alastor drops his hand from your head and turns to the door. “No, my dear. Leave it to me.” Radio static warps the air around you. His eyes morph into radio dials. “It’s time I remind everyone why I am here.” He has the smile on his face—that same smile that tell you he’s on the hunt. It makes you buzz.

Mimzy pops her head out.  “Ugh, finally!” she says, rolling her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

Tendrils shoot out of Alastor’s back and it waves around the air as if owning a mind of its own. His bones break with audible cracks to adjust to his expanding size. “A reminder to all, not to mess with the radio demon!” His teeth stick out when he smiles, and the little ‘x’ on his forehead appears.

Alastor laughs and begins his kill.

You rush out when your husband crawls out the broken doors, bolting from the bar and out the entrance. You watch Alastor. He grabs a shark with the tips of his fingers and uses the others to pull him apart, slowly, painfully, with a grin.

“Mimzy…” you say, slowly.

Mimzy shrinks next to you. “…Yeah?”

Alastor’s nails elongate and he pierces the shark, letting his blood trail down, reveling in his screams. “I really appreciate everything you do for me.”

A leg sails across the air, it’s bone sticking out. You smile to yourself as Alastor hunts down his prey. Blood paints the flowers red when his tendrils wag like a happy tail.

You’re faintly aware of Lucifer and Charlie arguing behind you.

The show is over too soon.

Alastor shrinks, twirls his microphone and stretches.

Mimzy runs, the first to approach Alastor. You don’t hear a word they’re saying, but Mimzy jabs her fingers into his coat. She leaves with a frown and a middle finger pointed at him.

You walk closer to your husband, a smile on your face. Alastor inches to you, bending close enough for you to reach his bowtie. The fabric is smooth against your fingers as your straighten it for him. “Much better?” you ask.

“Indeed.”

“You put up quite the show,” you tell him. “You looked absolutely riveting, my deer.”

Alastor’s smile widens, and he offers his arm, guiding you back into the hotel. “Did I?”

“You always do, my love.”

And oh…

Another song.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Lucifer leaves, taking his singing with him.

As quietly as possible, you grab your belongings and check that nothing is missing: wallet, flip-phone, bus card, pieces of mint, various essential items, and lastly, your umbrella. You step out of what is left of the Hazbin Hotel’s front doors and stifle a yawn. Today’s excitement has gone on for too long. It was time to go home.

Drops of acid fall from the sky, a light drizzle forming. It was a good idea to stash that umbrella in your bag.

Alastor slithers out of your shadow, and covers your heads with an umbrella. “Did you happen to forget your umbrella?”

You force a sheepish smile on your lips. “I did, actually,” you say. “But a walk seems rather lovely today.”

Alastor twirls the umbrella, his smile widening. “May I join you for your walk?”

“Are you not still working?” You glance behind you, observing the hotel.

Angel Dust sweeps glass off the carpet. He steals glances from time to time, trying his hardest to avoid looking in your direction—it doesn’t try hard enough. Your eyes meet, and you brush your stray feathers from your hair. A not so subtle way of showing off your ring. You stick out your tongue.

Angel Dust laughs, shaking his head with amusement.

Alastor adjusts the umbrella, angling it to block the prying eyes from inside the hotel. He raises his eyebrows, looking at you with a questionable glance.

You offer your most innocent smile. “I think they’re going to need a new door.”

“I think it’s time I clocked out,” he sys, inching the umbrella closer. “I shouldn’t have them getting too dependent on me.”

“Are those not grounds for prime picking?”

“I wouldn’t exactly be a doting husband if I left my wife to walk alone in the rain,” Alastor tells you.

“Doting husband?”

He nods, leaning closer to you. “Yes. Was that not your condition for our marriage?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Did I say that?”

“You did.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, humming a bit. “I do not remember saying that at all.”

“Well, it wasn’t for you to remember,” he says. “And in any case, I did not call you to the hotel to prepare for some party.”

“Then why did you call me here?”

Alastor meets your eyes and his smile widens. “Allow me to join you, and you shall find out.”

“You’ve piqued my interest, deerest,” you say. “The best walks are usually the ones that are shared. It doesn’t hurt that you have an umbrella.”

“What would you do without me?”

You roll your eyes, and take a step closer. “You always seem to remember for me.”

Alastor fiddles with the umbrella. “What did you do for several years—get pelted by acid?”

“You would know the answer to that had you been present for those years,” you say and you don’t fight the coy smile that forms on your lips.

Alastor hums in displeasure. “Well, in any case, I only have this one umbrella.”

“I guess we’ll have to share.”

“Yes, it seems we will.”

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his. He doesn’t need to take precautions to ensure your clothes stay dry nor do you have to for his own attire, not when you press closely against each other. The umbrella covers the both of you just right.

You rest your head on his arm. It’s nice. Warm. Even if it was as thick as a stick. His bones press into your cheek. Your eyes flutter into a close… just… one… second…

Your knees buckle causing you to trip.

A frim grab of your waist keeps you from the ground. Your nose crinkles when you collide with Alastor’s chest. Finding strength in your legs, you dig your foot into the ground and stand.

Alastor keeps his hold on your waist steady, and you don’t move from his hold.

“Before you say anything—you are not fine,” he says. “I don’t want to hear anything else but an agreement.”

You peel your face from his chest, meeting his eyes to give him the brightest smile you can muster. It doesn’t come out as you hope. “It seems…It seems it will be my turn to postpone our outing today,” you say. “The excitement of the day seems to be catching up to me.”

You fell asleep while walking,” he says. “If it was not for me, you would be on the pavement.”

“Then it is a good thing I am no longer alone.”

A single tendril emerges from his back. It wraps around the umbrella’s handle, keeping it secured over your heads.

Alastor’s hand shifts from your waist to your back. You feel his other arm snaking down your legs, trailing your skin until he reaches the back of your knees.

Alastor lifts you like a bride.

Well, you actually are a bride…his bride, specifically.

Alastor continues the walk, holding you in his arms. You lean into him, and he places a chin on your head. “Your pointy chin is poking me, my deerest,” you say but you don’t move to push him off. “It’s digging into my scalp.

His chest rise and fall as he laughs, and you feel every bit of it against your cheek. “I could always drop you right over this puddle.”

“That wouldn’t really be part of the doting husband image, would it?” you say chuckling into his suit.

“No, I guess it would not.”

Smiling to yourself, you nuzzle deeper into the crook of his neck. “Hey, Al,” you mumble softly, “tell me a story.”

At the corner of your eyes, you see Alastor glance at you. His gaze lasts a second before he turns back ahead.  “It was 1929,” he says. “The beginning of the glorious Great Depression.”

You roll your eyes even if he doesn’t see it. “You are the only one I know who calls the Great Depression ‘glorious’. People were starving, and we almost got fired from our jobs.”

“That’s because it was a great year.”

“Because you got to see the sufferings of the masses?” You laugh softly. “That’s definitely something you would do. I can practically hear you laughing at the way they try to claw their way out of misery, only to fail spectacularly.”

“Because we got married that year,” he says. Even if you’re wearing a coat, and Alastor wears his gloves. Even with layers of cloth between your skin, you still feel the way Alastor caress your with his thumb. “Can I continue my story now or would you like to bicker about your failing memory?”

“Continue.”

“So, the start of the glorious Great Depression,” he says. “That day, I saw an ad for the local zoo. I wasn’t doing anything important, so I decided to support my local animals.”

“How kind of you,” you say, stifling a yawn.

“Indeed it was,” he says. “I stalk through the animals. Looking at every malnourished species they kept locked up—”

“You get to the alligator enclosure and to this day, swear that you saw it do a backflip,” you mumble softly, eyes dropping. “That’s pretty good for someone you claim to possess failing memories.”

“Alright then. I shall find another.” Alastor hums as he thinks, and his chest vibrates as he does. “Summer of 1916–long before I met you.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you say, huffing. “I’m well aware of the year we met, my deer. So, Summer of 1916?”

“It was a dark and stormy night. Weird for the summer seasons. Usually, the house becomes a furnace, but it was terribly cold,” Alastor tells you. “During that second night of the hurricane, a knock sounds from the door.”

“Oh… I’ve heard this as well.” You pick on the lapels of Alastor’s coat, tracing the white lines.

“You have?” Alastor raises his eyebrows

“Yes, it was your neighbor. His tree fell into the window and you and your mother ended up sheltering him for the night,” you say. “Then, you’ll tell me that he gifted you three pounts of cheese the next week.”

“I guess there’s nothing left to tell.”

You lean back to meet his eyes. They’re no longer brown. Once, a long time ago, you thought it was your favorite color. Now, you don’t think you’ve ever had a favorite color. You just liked his color. “Nonsense,” you says. “We are definitely not that old. I’m sure there should be be at least a few.”

“Alright, this one began fifteen years ago,” he says, tightening his grip on you. “I was waiting outside St. An’s, and a Sinner came out. It was my first time seeing a cow. It was quite a conundrum because — Oh, I think you’ve heard this already. Have you?”

Your eyelids are heavy. “I have.”

“And you choose not to inform me?”

“Can you tell it to me again?” You sink deeper into his hold.

“Of course, my love.”

Alastor’s steps lag until he comes to a full stop. He holds you in his gaze as the acid rain splatters grow stronger. It’s just you and him in this tiny bubble of an umbrella.

His eyes flicker, touching every inch of this scene. You do not know what he is thinking.

“Are you alright, my love?” you find yourself asking.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m just…trying not to waste, that’s all.”

“Come on,” you say in a voice that is oh so soft.

Alastor continues his story. You don’t hear the end of it.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

I am excited to know what you guys think about this chapter. My replies and inbox are always open for any questions. I always get so happy to see my notifications. It's a bit addicting actually. Thank you to everyone who has interacted with this story. Every like, reblog, and reply means so much to me. Part 4 will be poasted as soon as possible

[raginglesbian2006]

A sneak peek into my newest chapter of Ne Me Quitte Pas

Your eyes blinked owlishly at hers for a moment. Then, you burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry, I thought you said the princess of hell is coming over to visit heaven," you wiped away a stray tear, taking a sip of your drink.

"No, that is exactly what I said," Emily stated.

You spat out your beverage in disbelief, "I'm sorry, WHAT!?"

Emily shushed you and awkwardly smiled at the patrons gawking at the two of you.

You immediately lowered your voice, "What do you mean the princess of hell is coming to heaven? I mean-what-why?" you stuttered through.

The younger seraphim looked at you with glee, "Oooh! She's here to propose her idea to Sera and me in front of the court!"

You titled your head in confusion, "Propose....what?" You took another sip of your beverage.

"Why, her idea to rehabilitate sinners!"

You spat out your drink a second time.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x angel!reader

[raginglesbian2006]

Alastor's a what now!?

Alastor x reader

A/N: I hate cats but I love cursed cat Alastor....Catastor?Calastor? Either way, I love him all the same. Also in this fic, the reader has wings :D

In all your years of living in hell and having been acquainted with the radio demon, you had never thought that you'd be able to witness something like this.

You were on an errand run. Charlie had asked you to buy some ingredients that she needed to make the "perfect breakfast" for all the hotel residents. You had agreed because you had to go buy stuff for yourself anyway.

When you returned, you sensed something was wrong immediately as you put your hand on the door handle, your other hand occupied with the bags of goods. You could hear a lot of screaming and shouting, uncharacteristically louder than usual.

You entered the hotel lobby to see a disheveled Charlie who looked as if she was at her wit's ends. Her girlfriend, Vaggie, was trying to calm her down. Emphasis on trying.

"Omgomgomg what are we supposed to do now!?" Charlie screeched as she tugged on her hair.

"Honey, you need to calm down. I'm sure we can find a solution to this....situation..." Vaggie reasoned. She looked just as frazzled and unsure of what to do.

"Charlie, dear-"

"DAD! PLEASE TELL ME YOU CAN REVERSE WHATEVER YOU JUST DID???" Charlie raced towards her father and shook him by the shoulders. The king of hell looked sheepish as he avoided his daughter's terrifying gaze.

"I mean...he'll turn back in a few...I think," Lucifer trailed off.

"YOU THINK!?!?" Charlie groaned as her already anxious state worsened. Vaggie comforted her girlfriend the best she could, albeit failing miserably.

You coughed loudly to make your presence known. The three of them turned to look at you.

"W-what... what is going on?" you asked.

Charlie's eyes started watering as she called out your name, "I-I need your help! I don't know what to do!!"

"Need my help in...what exactly?" your eyes looked over to Lucifer, who was glancing at his feet, looking uncomfortable as the seconds flew by.

Charlie could not speak anymore and she hugged you close, wailing into your shoulders. Your body stiffened at the sudden gesture but eventually, you decided to let her be, patting her back. You looked towards Vaggie for help.

"Its...Alastor..." she started, "He and Lucifer were having their daily fights as usual and Lucifer lost his mind so he may have kinda sorta...." she looked up at the ceiling, "turned Alastor into a cat."

You looked at her incredulously, "I'm sorry...Alastor's a what now?"

Charlie picked herself up from your reluctant embrace and looked at you with teary eyes, "A CAT. HE'S A CAT!"

She pointed towards the ceiling and your eyes followed soon after.

There was a creature hanging onto the chandelier- its eyes glowed a deep red and it had a frightening smile on its face. It was a red cat...that held an eerie similarity to the radio demon.

Your mouth gaped open as you registered what you saw.

"You mean to tell me...," your eyes were locked onto the creature, "That...is Alastor?"

Charlie and Vaggie nodded their heads.

"And...how did he get up there?"

Charlie swung her head around to glare at Lucifer. He averted his eyes and whistled a tune, taking a sudden interest in the wallpaper.

You got the message. It was safe to say that Lucifer had no interest in helping Alastor get down.

"Alright...I'll help get him down and...then we can talk about what to do next."

You unfurled your wings and rose into the air, slowly coming closer to where Alastor....or rather the cat was.

"Al?" you put your hands towards the cat, "It's alright, I'm just here to help you get down."

The smiling creature looked toward your outstretched hand with hesitance. You waited but he refused to accept your help.

Your eyes brightened as an idea popped into your head. During your errand run, you visited the butcher's shop and bought Alastor some raw venison. He had told you about how he liked to eat what he hunted better but you couldn't help it anyway. He looked so damn tired these days, so you decided to cut him some slack.

You called out to Charlie, "I need you to throw me something! You should find a packet of venison in one of the bags I brought in. Just fling it over to me!"

Charlie did as you asked and threw the packet towards you. You caught it with ease and tore away the packaging with your claws. You took a cut of venison and hung it in front of the creature.

"Look, Al!" you whispered, "I got you a little snack!"

The cat's tail wagged as his smile grew larger. His eyes followed the raw piece of meat very diligently. As he was distracted, you discreetly flew yourself closer to him and managed to get him off the chandelier and safely into your arms. The cat immediately pounced on the venison you held in your hand, chewing on it with a happy staticky hum as you flew down towards the duo waiting anxiously.

Charlie's smile grew as Vaggie relaxed.

"Oh, thank you thank you thank youuuuuuu!" Charlie exclaimed, "I don't know what we'd do without you!"

You chuckled, "Don't thank me yet, we still have..." You gestured towards the cat demon, devouring the piece of raw venison, " this...to deal with."

Vaggie turned towards Lucifer, "Is there really no way to turn him back to normal?"

Lucifer scrunched his brows, "I...I really don't know but... he should be back to normal tomorrow."

You put a hand on Charlie's shoulder, "It's alright. We're in this together, ok?"

Charlie sighed as she nodded her head- a tired smile graced her features.

Over the next couple of hours, you held the cat in your lap as you fed it venison.

Husk and Angel Dust had come back to the hotel, a little later, from their club hopping with Cherri, and Niffty in tow.

"Aww, who's cat is that, toots?" Angel asked as he circled around you, trying to take a better look at the new creature.

Trying to save Alastor the embarrassment, you hid his ever-grinning face and chuckled awkwardly, looking towards Vaggie for help.

"They are umm.." the ex-exorcist started, "A stray! Yes, a stray that was infested with...rabies! So you better stay away!"

Angel looked disgusted and quickly took several steps away from where you were sitting.

"Never mind, I'll just go up to my room. See ya!" Angel said as he walked away with a flourish.

Husk gruffed as he sat back down at his usual place behind the hotel bar, taking no interest in the conversation.

Niffty popped out from behind you, "You know, this kitty looks a lot like-"

You put a hand over her mouth as you giggled uncomfortably, "Hahah! I think it's time for me to go and take care of this....little thing!"

As you walked towards the stairs, you glanced at Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer, signaling them to keep quiet about this incident. They nodded their heads feverishly.

You sighed as you shut the door to your room, bending down to let the cat roam to his heart's content.

" I'm sorry, Al," you rubbed your neck, "It isn't much but you gotta stay here till this whole thing blows over."

As he looked around your surroundings, the cat paid no mind to you. His smile remained.

You flopped on the bed, stretching your arms wide over the bedsheets.

"What a wild day, am I right?" you exclaimed.

Your eyes started getting heavy and your vision darkened as sleep overtook you. The last thing you hear as you drift off to slumber is a staticky pur. You feel soft fur curl into the crook of your arm.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of white noise close to your ear. Your body shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into the warmth that wrapped around you. You felt a claw on your waist dig into your skin comfortably, as you sighed in contentment.

Your eyes slowly opened after a while and you were greeted with the wide glowing red eyes and the ever-present grinning smile of the radio demon.

You screamed like a banshee as you flung yourself off the bed. You could hear the white noise slowly turn into a distinct radio static. The demon who was still in your bed grumbled at the disturbance.

Suddenly you heard the door open.

"Oh god, are you ok!?" Charlie shouted, ready to fight whoever was causing you harm. Her stance faltered seeing Alastor atop your bed, still confused and in a daze.

"Alastor!" she cried as she moved closer to where he was, "Are you ok!?"

Said demon let out a puff of air, "Well, I was having a perfectly good rest, until this one," his eyes snapped towards your frame as you hid your face into the bedside, still on the floor, "decided to ruin my slumber-"

He paused. His eyes finally took note of his surroundings.

"Wait...what am I doing in...this room?"

You raised your head from your hiding place, "You don't remember?"

Alastor looked confused as his smile strained, "Remember...what...exactly?"

Charlie interrupted, laughing rather loudly, "Nothing, Alastor! Nothing at all," she glanced at you, "You were just hanging around with them and fell asleep in their room! Thats all! Right?"

You stood up, chuckling nervously, "Yes, I umm...decided to rest on the floor here...you see? Didn't want my guest to be uncomfortable!"

You thought about what he had said earlier. You had assumed he'd woken up when you saw his wide eyes looking back at you this morning, but it felt like you were wrong. Perhaps he slept with his eyes open?

Alastor let out a hum, standing up and summoning his staff, "I must say, this is quite uncharacteristic of me."

He looked at you, his smile never leaving, "I apologize for the inconvenience I caused. I truly do not know why I am so awfully tired these days."

Your eyes followed his hands as they brushed over a particular part of his coat. You wondered if this had to do something with how he disappeared amidst his battle with Adam.

"Ah well!" he exclaimed jovially, leading Charlie by the shoulder, "We should not tarry, oh not a bit longer! There is much to do!"

The door popped shut, leaving you in your lonesome. You let out a big sigh and slumped on the floor.

"What the fuck just happened?" you wondered, loudly.

✩──────────✩─────────✩

A/N: Alsoooo

Where did ya'll come from? Wowie!

Thank you everyone for your support and for liking and reblogging my fics. It means the absolute world to me!

Love ya'll to the moon and back!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #cursed cat alastor

[raginglesbian2006]

I gasped-

Cough

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel

[raginglesbian2006]

more strawberry alastor

these were heavily requested

[raginglesbian2006]

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | c.6

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: I / II / III / IV / V / VI

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: another chapter, filled with cute little fluff for yall! happy readings, darlings!

you shoot up out of bed, the usual, stretching your body and lifting your arms way up high as you hummed a soft melodic tune under your breath just enough to start your day, you turn to the telephone. your fingers fidgeting to the telephone and the radio. winding up the station where alastor was like always.

"You have reached me, Alastor Altruist! From New Orleans, Louisiana, Welcome dear caller to the broadcast!~ good to know you're tuning in, it's one fine morning, I'll tell you that. who might be on the other end of this lovely morning call?"

You heard his voice once again, it filled you with unmeasurable glee and happiness. unable to fully think of what to say next, you went on to speak, trying to be casual and careful with the words coming out your mouth.

"Good Morning, Alastor. it's a nice morning for an early, request. don't you think?" you smiled. fiddling your fingers through the cable connected to the telephone. As for alastor. He grinned. nails tapping on the table as he spoke to you.

"Absolutely, My Dear. it is quite a beautiful morning. Well like always, what song will you be requesting today before we start the endless yapping."

"well, i was thinking of stardust by Hoagy Carmichael once again, if that's alright?" you softly spoke. "well I'll put that on for you next, Ms. Daisy, Do continue tuning in as i chatter away" he chuckled. moments later the two of you dropped the call, you went about your day to continue your daily chores. same goes for alastor, broadcasting and speaking away with stories and interesting news going on today.

"ugh.. mornin' darling" an overslept Loralie greeted you, going over the cupboards for a mug, making her morning tea. sipping through the herby taste of the tea. she tuned in to the radio too. listening as she gulped down her drink.

"still picking up that 'daisy' persona, huh? moon pie?" she turned to you with a grin in which you responded with a little scoof. after wiping the sink, you sat down beside her sighing.

"oh darlin.. you gotta break the act someday, you're gonna break the man's heart if you keep it up." she spoke, placing a hand over your shoulder. "i know.. it's just.. i-" you looked away, nervous. you scratched your temple. "well either way.. you gotta tell the truth.. what happens if he as-" annoyedly, she was cut off with the sound of the telephone ringing, in reflex, you picked it up. putting it against your ear.

"Hello! I'm Y/n L/n, who's on the other line?.." you spoke, as you held the telephone over your hand, you heard his voice. "hello, there.. is this Ms. Daisy?" In a panic, you gave Loralie the phone. using her as a decoy for a moment.

"Unfortunately, Daisy isn't home, who might you be?" Loralie turned to you with an irritated look. you only gave her a weak smile in which you sighed in response. a few moments of talking. Loralie hung up the call, grinning at you. "ohhhh DAISY~"

you grit your teeth in worry. "Mr. Radio Man wants to have.. a small little date with you tonight" she grinned menacingly. "No.. no.. nononono, oh God. Loralie I.. I don't know what to do." You sat at your table, your mind running wild with fear and anxiety. You stared blindly at the radio, feeling as though the voice of Alastor was directly coming from the speaker, his words echoing through your mind. Your heart was beating so fast it threatened to burst from your chest. "well that's not my problem, sweetcakes,"

Loralie smirked and stood up, walking over to the radio and turning it off. "There ya go. No more Mr. Radio Man." She turned to you and crossed her arms over her chest. "Now, are ya gonna keep hiding behind that Daisy act forever, or are you actually gonna grow a spine and be yourself?"

Loralie sighed and shook her head. "I understand, I really do. You've been hiding behind that mask for so long now, it's hard to know what's real anymore. But you've got to stop, Y/N. You can't live your life with such fear and anxiety. It's not healthy." She walked up to you and put a hand on your shoulder. "You're a strong person, despite everything you've been through. You're capable of so much more than just hiding."

"but it's just.. what if he sees the real me.. what if doesn't like me that way.. what if he hates the way i am.. I can't just.. let myself out just yet, I'll just stay in my shell."

Loralie sighed and sat down next to you, putting her arm around your shoulder. "I understand how you feel, Y/N. It can be really scary to let someone in like that, especially when you've been hurt in the past. But if Alastor really cares about you, he'll accept you for who you are. And if he doesn't, well, then he's not worth your time." She gave you a small smile. "You deserve someone who loves you for exactly who you are, not just the person you're pretending to be.. but right now you gotta find a way to go on that date or else.."

you sighed, gritting your teeth in nervousness. you scratched your head for a moment, thinking of what to do.

ೀ.ᐟ⭒๋࣭

Alastor watched the light of the pond, contemplating in his head, groaning, he looked down at his hands in worry. "what the devil am i doing.. she won't show up.. it's such a sudden request, focus altruist. focus." he paced backa and forth. ultimately he settled down on the bench, checking his pocket watch sighing. an hour has already passed.

"she's t coming.. she's not." he sighed, looking up in the sky. "mind if i sit here?" he turned to his side, it was you, of course, he couldn't forget that face from the party but.. yet, you wasn't 'his' daisy. he let out a small smile, moving to the other end of the bench, looking deep in the moonlight. you spoke up to snap the silence between you two. "so.. what brings you here all alone?" you softly spoke.

"remember daisy?" he spoke up, turning to you. "well, i asked her out, but when i called her line. she wasn't the one that picked up, the girl on the other line says she wasn't home, but she'll tell daisy about my call.. and.. gosh- i feel so stupid, maybe her friend didn't really tell her.. or... or maybe she didn't want to come because.. i don't know, maybe it's too straight forward for her." he spoke, frantically fidgeting through his fingers.

As you sat next to Alastor on the bench, you couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. He was acting strange, and the tension between you two was palpable. Suddenly, he turned to you, his expression serious.

"I've been trying to reach Daisy, personally, out of the radio broadcasting for a week now, but I just can't seem to get in touch with her, fully, only inside the radio show calls." he said, fiddling with his pocket watch. He shook his head, looking down at the ground. "I don't know what to do anymore, i thought if i asked her out now that i had the chance, maybe she didn't like it.. I don't know anymore..."

"I understand how you feel, Alastor," you said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's a scary thing, asking someone out. And it's even scarier when you don't know if they'll reciprocate those feelings. But I know you're strong, Alastor. You'll get through this, no matter what happens. I'm sure Daisy has been quite busy nowadays, who knows, maybe next time, she'll call you personally"

"Thank you," Alastor said, smiling faintly. "I appreciate your words of encouragement. And you're right, I need to keep my head up, no matter what. Daisy is a strong person, and I know she'll do what she thinks is right, in her own time." He paused for a moment, staring out at the moonlight. "And besides, what kind of person would I be if I let my fear of rejection get the better of me?"

you smiled, resting your body next to his. alastor spoke. "why are you here anyways, my dear? it's awfully late for a lady to be out this late, especially in a park." his eyes turned to look at you with concern. "it's just uhh, i was taking a quick stroll, i noticed you by here so i decided to give some company.. was i, interrupting anything?" he shook his head as he chuckled. "i was just waiting for daisy, and.. it's been an hour since I'm here.. so i suppose she's not coming.." you look at him sadly. patting his back comfortably.

You take a seat next to Alastor and give him a comforting pat on the back.

"I do hope she comes either way" you lie easily. "but for now, why don't i keep you company.. The moonlight is so beautiful at night, and it's so peaceful here. It's nice to get away from the city sometimes."

You feel a twinge of guilt for keeping the truth from him, but you know you can't tell him about your connection to Daisy. Not yet, at least. Instead, you choose to change the subject.

As you sit next to Alastor, you can see the disappointment in his eyes as he continues to look out at the pond. You know he's still waiting for Daisy to show up, but you're not sure how much longer he'll keep waiting. You decide to try and distract him by changing the subject.

"So, what do you like to do for fun, Alastor?" you ask, trying to sound as casual as possible. You hope that by talking about something different, he'll eventually shift his focus away from Daisy and onto something else.

he turns to you, giving you a soft smile. "would you like me to show you?" he spoke, holding his hand out for you.

[raginglesbian2006]

Bambi

Alastor x Reader

Summary : Alastor returns from his outing one day, finding a guest lying on the floor, unconscious, in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Untrue to Alastor fashion, scaring most of the staff members, he decides to keep the fascinating creature in his broadcasting studio, and when she wakes up, she's forgotten everything, even her name. And when Alastor starts calling her nicknames in the mean time, he accidentally gives her one that she ends up growing attached to..

Warnings : N/A

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader (Gn!Reader here, M!Reader here)

Additional tags : Fluff(?), mentions of amnesia, Alastor actually being nice?!

Word count : 1.06k

“Wonderful, just wonderful! You’re awake!”

A staticky voice drew you out of your thoughts. Surprised, you snapped your neck towards the sound, and a rather tall and slim figure was right at your face.

“Charming, I haven’t seen you around here before!”

You flinch as the figure leans closer, causing them to back away slightly.

“Who.. who are you?”

“Pleasure to meet you, dear, just a pleasure! I'm Alastor, the Radio Demon. And who might you be?"

"I..” You reply. “I don't know." 

He seems taken aback by your response slightly, but his smile doesn't falter. Instead he cocks his head to the side and blinks at you.

"What's your name?"

You stay quiet for a while until you give an uncertain head tilt back to him.

"I don't know.."

The grin still very much glued to his face, he leaned a bit closer to you, voice dropping to a more hushed tone.

"Darling, you don't remember your name, or you don't know your name?"

"I.. I don't remember." You fight the urge to start fidgeting with your hands, looking down to the ground as your memories become a hazy blur.

"You don't remember? Your name? Anything?"

"No.."

He doesn't seem to let his bright smile falter at that, although his expression shifts slightly towards curiosity.

"Quite the fascinating creature you are." He blinks a couple of times before he shifts to lean against what seemed to be a broadcasting panel, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Intriguing, really. Do you know what happened to your memory?"

"No.. not really."

"Well, that's unfortunate." The Radio Demon lets out a chuckle, static still laced in his laugh. "It seems you're in a bit of a dilemma, aren't you, Bambi?"

"Bambi.. I like it." You reply.

"Pardon me?" He raises his eyebrow at you, surprised at your statement.

"Bambi. I like the sound of that."

He laughs, a smile sounding from him again. There was something so unsettling yet alluring about him.

"That is rather fitting, I suppose. Bambi.. it's not a bad name." He thinks for a few seconds, stroking his chin as he considers. "And I suppose I'll need something to refer to you if you're staying. It fits you.."

"Staying?"

"Where do you think you are right now, darling? You certainly didn't expect me to leave you out there with your memories wiped with nowhere to go?"

"I.."

"Surely you hoped to stay for accommodation and basic necessities?" The Radio Demon asks, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "You've lost your memory after all, have you not?"

"Yes.." You hesitantly replied. Sure, you've lost your memory, but you weren't stupid enough to follow a random Radio Demon around without knowing him.

"I don't bite, Bambi. I can guarantee everyone at the hotel will treat you with the respect you deserve. And if they don't, all you need to do is let me know and I'll handle them for you."

"Hotel?"

"My, my, you really are a clueless little deer." Alastor uses a cane-typed staff to ruffle your hair. “So fragile and just the cutest little thing.”

“Thank.. you?”

Alastor tilts his head to the side curiously.

"It seems as if my teasing isn't upsetting you. How strange." He merely comments. “Oh, to understand your lost little mind.”

You carefully scan the room. It seemed to be a broadcasting studio, the room simply in red. Totally wasn’t sinister at all.

“So, what do you say, Bambi? We wouldn't mind providing you with all the necessities you need for now.”

“Necessities?”

Alastor chuckles again.

"Like, a bed, for example! Or, oh, I'm sure you'd want new clothes as well, right? And... if that's not enough, we do serve breakfast the next day. If you want food, that is..."

“Jambalaya..” You mutter, mostly to yourself as you’re lightly lost in thought.

Alastor’s grin widens a little, his ears perking slightly at the sudden mention of his favourite food.

"I can't say that I was expecting that, but... yes, we actually do have jambalaya on the menu for lunch. How'd you know that?"

“Oh, sorry.. I was just talking to myself. It’s my favourite food.” You stifle a blush as you let out an embarrassed smile.

“Ah, so you do remember some things, Bambi.” He raises his voice in curiosity, walking towards a trapdoor in the floor. “Come along, dear, let’s bring you to Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“The owner of the hotel, and also the Princess of Hell.”

“We’re in hell?”

Alastor stops in his tracks as the two of you reach the hallways, finally out of Alastor’s broadcasting tower.

“After our whole conversation, you just noticed?”

“I.. I suppose so.”

“Oh, dear, you really are just one mysterious creature, aren't you? To think you just appeared here, with no memories of yourself, of the world, and even what you're doing here in Hell. You are truly fascinating..”

Alastor smirks, speaking in a lower voice. “Charlie will be delighted to have you here.”

After introductions and such, Charlie settles you into the room next to Alastor’s, opposite of Angel Dust, and introduces you to all the staff.

“So.. who are ya’ exactly?” The white spider raises a hand, slouching on the couch with a grey cat beside him. 

“This is our new guest!” Charlie introduces. “Alastor found her unconscious and offered to let her stay.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question, princess.” The grey cat speaks up, seemingly bored from the unoriginality of these introductions.

“Well, Husker, our little friend here has lost her memories.” Alastor speaks up from beside you, ruffling your hair with his staff-cane-thing once more. You still couldn’t make out what it was really supposed to be.

“Lost her memories?” Vaggie is the one to speak up this time. 

“Indeed. It seems our dear friend doesn't even remember her own name, let alone anything else.”

“Then what a’ we s’posed to refer to her as?” Angel questions.

“You could call me Bambi..” You mutter softly, gaze glued to your own feet.

“Works for me.” Husk shrugs.

“Sure.” Angel replies.

Vaggie and Niffty nods.

You feel the static beside you grow a bit louder, and as you shift your gaze, you see Alastor keeping his composure with his backs behind his back, his eyes on you as he gives you a soft, and genuine smile.

“You’re going to love it here, Bambi.” He says.

———/ End. /———

[raginglesbian2006]

Hi I'm new but I was wondering if you could do hc Alastor x wife!reader who is like Mortichia Addams. Like the long black dress(es) and red lips.

Honestly I see Alastor as an asexual version of Gomez Addams.

Hi! Thank you for sending in the request!! I've been wanting to write something similar to what you suggested lol

Darling, I always wear black

Alastor x wife!reader

Oh, how you had intrigued him the moment the two of you met.

Alastor was on his daily stroll, enjoying how the miserable souls of hell suffered around him as he glanced at the newly opened stores and boutiques.

One of which caught his eye. The decor was very grim but had a certain charm to it. Entering the store, Alastor found himself surrounded by flowers, roses mostly. His ears picked up the sound of a "snip snap" echoing throughout the quiet place.

That is when he saw you, dressed up in a long black gown that stuck to your body, enhancing your curves. You hummed a sweet tune as you cut off the heads of roses and decorated the lonely stems in a vase.

"I do believe that is a rather...unconventional way of arranging flowers." Your eyes shifted to find a rather tall demon- his red attire standing out in contrast to your dark little store.

"I suppose not..." you mused, "but it is just my way of doing things."

Alastor moved closer to you, his clawed hand taking yours gently- watching the lace around your long sleeve droop as he lifted your hand to his lips- kissing your knuckles as a sign of courtesy.

"My name is Alastor, my dear. It's a pleasure to meet you, I say, quite a pleasure!"

Since then, he started visiting your shop quite frequently, often staying back to have a chat after the busy day was over. You enjoyed his presence- he was quite unlike the men you usually had vying for your attention, be it in hell or when you were alive.

Slowly but surely, he had become completely besotted with you. He had always thought he'd fall for someone who wore bright colors and was as lively as he was but your demure and gothic charm had irreversibly enraptured him. Safe to say, his charm had had the same effect on you as well.

"It appears to me that I find myself quite delighted by your presence," you said to him as you sipped your tea, "Some could even say I am..smited? smote?"

"Smitten, I believe, my dear," his eyes half-lidded and smile wider than ever, "And I feel the same way."

It didn't take long for him to present you with a ring.

"Sure it's a tad bit sooner than expected, but why wait, my dear?"

And thus, the two of you became husband and wife. You didn't have a ceremony per se since neither of you enjoyed a large gathering. Both of you just exchanged rings and enjoyed each other's company that day.

After 7 long years of Alastor's absence, you found yourself in front of the Hazbin Hotel in search of answers. You knew a silly project like this would intrigue your husband, so it didn't hurt to look for him there. Besides, his return was made clear to you from the banter he had with Vox over the radio.

The door to the hotel opened to reveal the princess of hell, her eyes wide.

"Greet-" the door slammed shut and then opened again in a split second, "tings." The door shut again.

Your eyebrows scrunched delicately and you let out a puff of air from your red-painted lips in a show of frustration.

The door opened once more. "May I speak now?" you asked, raising one eyebrow as you looked down at the princess.

She stuttered a response which prompted you to introduce yourself to her and the reason for your visit.

"I must say, your idea intrigued me a little, so I decided to pop in for a visit." Hearing you say that, the princess or Charlie as you had gathered from hearing her sales pitch over the news, excitedly bounced on her feet as she led you into the hotel.

While she was introducing you to everyone there, your eyes found Husk, slumped over the bar.

"Greetings, Husker. I would say I'm surprised to see you here but I'm really not," you bluntly stated.

Husk gave out a grunt in reply. Charlie noticed your interaction, "Ooooh you two know each other?"

You let out a laugh, just the one, "We are acquainted, yes. You could say I know the owner of his soul....quite well."

Speaking of, the famed radio demon heard the commotion in the lobby of the hotel and decided to make his presence known by teleporting himself to his destination.

"Charlie, dear, why is there such a buzz-" he paused as his eyes met yours, "Cher..." he trailed off.

"Alastor," your voice was stern, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance...after 7 years, that is."

His smile twitched slightly at your glare. He walked up closer to you and lifted your hand, kissing it, "I missed you, mon cher."

Your eyes softened. His charm had a way of destabilizing your stance. You were supposed to be mad at him, damn it.

Charlie looked puzzled as she asked, "Alastor, do you know our visitor?"

Alastor chuckled as he drew you closer to him by the waist, "Of course I do, she is my wife!"

Everyone, except Husk, was dumbstruck by this new information.

It took a while for Alastor to be in your good graces again, but you couldn't help but give in to his advances. He was your husband after all. One that you loved oh so much.

You had decided to stay with him at the hotel, helping Charlie occasionally with her efforts to make the hotel seem...appealing. Good thing you knew a thing or two about interior designing, however dark or grim your preferences may be.

Niffty had immediately bounced up into your arms the moment she caught wind of your arrival.

"Oh darling, how are you, my sweet?" you asked her as she snuggled up close to you. "I must say, I missed you a whole lot more than my idiotic husband."

Vaggie sidled up close to her girlfriend, "Am I seeing what you're seeing?" Alastor had his head on your shoulder, eyes closed as you ran your fingers through his hair. Charlie's eyes watered, "I know! Aren't the two of them just the sweetest!"

Everyone at the hotel was shocked to see how affectionate the big bad radio demon could be and how much he simped for you. If anyone was looking for Alastor, it's safe to say that he would be found right beside you, one hand on your waist , kissing up your arm affectionately- all the while you reprimanded him for being too touchy albeit, not stopping his onslaught of kisses.

Angel Dust had once asked you, "So uhh... what's a hot gal like you doin' with Mr. tall dark and creepy here?"

Your reply was simple, "He makes me laugh."

The two of you often spent time having tea or rather coffee as per Alastor's preferences, playing the piano together and just relishing in each other's presence.

He had once foolishly suggested a revamp of your wardrobe, trying to squeeze in a few different colors. He was met by your terrifying glare.

"Darling, I always wear black."

You liked to slow dance with him, which he obliged with no hesitance.

You weren't much into swing, preferring a more classy waltz or baroque music but you enjoyed watching him lose himself to the music.

No matter how weird Al was, you loved him all the same.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to reply to this! I got a bit carried away with this request but I do hope it is to your liking!

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