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#and with the power of friendship we can alter the universe's plan for ourselves and also kill god

lokiondisneyplus · 3 years

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A review of “Journey Into Mystery,” the penultimate Loki Season One episode on Disney+, coming up just as soon as I paper cut a giant cloud to death…

Journey Into Mystery was the title of the first Marvel comic to feature either Thor or Loki. It began as an anthology series featuring monsters and aliens, but Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, and Larry Lieber were so smitten with their adaptation of the characters of Norse myth that the Asgardians gradually took over the whole book, which was renamed after its hammer-wielding hero(*).

(*) The early Journey Into Mystery stories treated Thor’s alter ego, disabled Dr. Donald Blake, as the “real” character, while Thor was just someone Blake could magically transform into, while retaining his memories and personality. It wasn’t even clear whether Asgard itself was meant to exist at first, until Loki turned up on Earth in an early issue, caused trouble, and Blake/Thor somehow knew exactly how to get to Asgard to drop him off. Soon, the lines between Thor and Blake began to blur, and eventually Thor became the real guy, and Blake a fiction invented by Odin to humble his arrogant son. It’s a mark of just how instantly charismatic Loki was that the entire title quickly steered towards him and the other gods.

But once upon a time, anything was possible in Journey Into Mystery, which makes it an apt moniker for an absolutely wonderful episode of Loki where the same holds true. Our title characters are trapped in the Void, a place at the end of time where the TVA’s victims are banished to be devoured by a cloud monster named Alioth. And mostly they are surrounded by the wreckage of many dead timelines. Classic Loki insists that his group’s only goal is survival, and any kind of planning and scheming is doomed to kill the Loki who tries. But this ruined, hopeless world instead feels bursting with imagination and possibility.

There are the many Loki variants we see, with President Loki, among others, joining Classic, Kid, Boastful, and Alligator Loki. There are the metric ton of Easter Eggs just waiting to be screencapped by Marvel obsessives (I discuss a few of them down below), but which still suggest a much larger and weirder MCU even if you don’t immediately scream out “Is that… THROG?!?!?” at the appropriate moment. And all of that stuff is tons of fun, to be sure. But what makes this episode — and, increasingly, this series — feel so special is the way that it explores the untapped potential of Loki himself, in his many, many variations.

This is an episode that owes more than a small stylistic and thematic debt to Lost. It’s not just that Alioth looks and sounds so much like the Smoke Monster(*), that it makes a shared Wizard of Oz reference to “the man behind the curtain” (also the title of one of the very best Lost episodes), or even that the core group of Lokis are hiding in a bunker accessible via a hatch and a ladder that’s filled with recreational equipment (in this case, bowling alley lanes). It’s also that Loki, Sylvie, their counterparts, and Mobius have all been transported to a strange place that has disturbing echoes from their own lives, that operates according to strange new rules they have to learn while fleeing danger, and their presence there allows them to reflect on the many mistakes of their past and consider whether they want to, or can, transcend them.

(*) Yes, Alioth technically predates Smokey by a decade (see the notes below for more), but his look has been tweaked a bit here to seem more like smoke than a cloud, and the sounds he makes when he roars sound a lot like Smokey’s telltale taxi cab meter clicks. Given the other Lost hat tips in the episode, I have to believe Alioth was chosen specifically to evoke Smokey.

Classic Loki is aptly named. He wears the Sixties Jack Kirby costume, and he is a far more powerful magician than either Sylvie or our Loki have allowed themselves to be. He calls our Loki’s knives worthless compared to his sorcery, which feels like the show acknowledging that the movies depowered Loki a fair amount to make him seem cooler. But if Classic Loki can conjure up illusions bigger and more potent than his younger peers, he is a fundamentally weak and defeated man, convinced, like the others, that the only way to win the game into which he was born is not to play. “We cannot change,” he insists. “We’re broken. Every version of ourselves. Forever.” It is not only his sentiment — Kid Loki adds that any Loki who tries to improve inevitably winds up in the Void for their troubles — but it seems to have weighed on him longer and harder than most.

But Classic Loki takes inspiration from Loki and Sylvie to stand and fight rather than turn and run, magicking up a vision of their homeland to distract Alioth at a crucial moment in Sylvie’s plan, and getting eaten for his trouble. He was wrong: Lokis can change. (Though Kid Loki might once again argue that Classic Loki’s death is more evidence that the universe has no interest in any of them doing so.) And both Loki and Sylvie have been changing throughout their time together. Like most Lokis, they seem cursed to a life of loneliness. Sylvie learned as a child that a higher power believed she should not exist, and has spent a lifetime hiding out in places where any friends she might make will soon die in an apocalypse. Our Loki’s past isn’t quite so stark, but the knowledge that his birth father abandoned him, while his adoptive father never much liked him, have left permanent scars that govern a lot of his behavior. The defining element of Classic Loki’s backstory is that he spent a long time alone on a planet, and only got busted by the TVA when he attempted to reconnect with his brother and anyone else he once knew. This is a hard existence, for all of them. And while it does not forgive them their many sins(*), it helps contextualize them, and give them the knowledge to try to be better versions of themselves.

(*) Loki at one point even acknowledges that, for him, it’s probably only been a few days since he led an alien invasion of New York that left many dead, though due to TVA shenanigans, far more time may have passed.

For that matter, Mobius is not the stainless hero he once thought of himself as. While he and Sylvie are tooling around the Void in a pizza delivery car (because of course they are), he admits that he committed a lot of sins by believing that the ends justified the means, and was wrong. He doesn’t know who he is before the TVA stole and factory rebooted him, but he knows that he wants something better for himself and the universe, and takes the stolen TemPad to open up a portal to his own workplace in hopes of tearing down the TVA once and for all. Before he goes, though, he and Loki share a hug that feels a lot more poignant than it should, given that these characters have only spent parts of four episodes of TV together. It’s a testament to Hiddleston, Wilson, Waldron, and company (Tom Kauffman wrote this week’s script) that their friendship felt so alive and important in such a short amount of time.

The same can be said for Loki and Sylvie’s relationship, however we’re choosing to define it. Though they briefly cuddle together under a blanket that Loki conjures, they move no closer to romance than they were already. If anything, Mobius’ accusations of narcissism in last week’s episode seem to have made both of them pull back a bit from where they seemed to be heading back on Lamentis. But the connection between them is real, whatever exactly it is. And their ability to take down Alioth — to tap into the magic that Classic Loki always had, and to fulfill Loki’s belief that “I think we’re stronger than we realize” — by working together is inspiring and joyful. Without all this nuanced and engaging character work, Loki would still be an entertaining ride, but it’s the marriage of wild ideas with the human element that’s made it so great.

Of course, now comes the hard part. Endings have rarely been an MCU strength, give or take something like the climax of Endgame, and the finales of the two previous Disney+ shows were easily their weakest episodes. The strange, glorious, beautiful machine that Waldron and Herron have built doesn’t seem like it’s heading for another generic hero/villain slugfest, but then, neither did WandaVision before we got exactly that. This one feels different so far, though. The command of the story, the characters, and the tone are incredibly strong right now. There is a mystery to be solved about who is in the big castle beyond the Void (another Loki makes the most narrative and thematic sense to me, but we’ll see), and a lot to be resolved about what happens to the TVA and our heroes. And maybe there’s some heavy lifting that has to be done in service to the upcoming Dr. Strange or Ant-Man films.

It’s complicated, but on a show that has handled complexity well. Though even if the finale winds up keeping things simpler, that might work. As Loki notes while discussing his initial plan to take down Alioth, “Just because it’s not complicated doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Though as Kid Loki retorts, “It also doesn’t mean it’s good.”

Please be good, Loki finale. Everything up to this point deserves that.

Some other thoughts:

* Most of this week’s most interesting material happens in the Void. But the scenes back at the TVA clarify a few things. First, Ravonna is not the mastermind of all this, and she was very much suckered in by the Time-Keeper robots. But unlike Mobius or Hunter B-15, she’s so conditioned to the mission that even knowing it’s a lie hasn’t really swayed her from her mission. She has Miss Minutes (who herself is much craftier this week) looking into files about the creation of the TVA, but for the most part comes across as someone very happy with a status quo where she gets to be special and pass judgment on the rest of the multiverse.

* Alioth first appeared in 1993’s Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective, a miniseries (written by Mobius inspiration Mark Gruenwald, and with some extremely kewl Nineties art full of shoulder pads, studded collars, and the like) involving Ravonna, Kang, and the off-brand versions of Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor (aka U.S. Agent, War Machine, and Thunderstrike, the latter of whom has yet to appear in the MCU). It’s a sequel to a Nineties crossover event called Citizen Kang. And no, I still don’t buy that Kang will be the one pulling the strings here, if only because it’s really bad storytelling for the big bad of the season to have never appeared or even been mentioned prior to the finale.

* Rather than try to identify every Easter egg visible in the Void’s terrain, I’ll instead highlight three of the most interesting. Right before the Lokis arrive at the hatch, we see a helicopter with Thanos’ name on it. This is a hat tip to an infamous — and often memed — out-of-continuity story where Thanos flies this chopper while trying to steal the Cosmic Cube (aka the Tesseract) from Hellcat. (A little kid gets his hands on it instead and, of course, uses the Cube to conjure up free ice cream.) James Gunn has been agitating for years for the Thanos Copter to be in the MCU. He finally got his wish.

* The other funny one: When the camera pans down the tunnel into Kid Loki’s headquarters, we see Mjolnir buried in the ground, and right below it is a jar containing a very annoyed frog in a Thor costume. This is either Thor himself — whom Loki cursed into amphibianhood in a memorable Walt Simonson storyline — or another character named Simon Walterston (note the backwards tribute to Walt) who later assumed the tiny mantle.

* Also, in one scene you can spot Yellowjacket’s helmet littering the landscape. This might support the theory that the TVA, the Void, etc., all exist in the Quantum Realm, since that’s where the MCU version of Yellowjacket probably went when his suit shorted out and he was crushed to subatomic size. Or it might be more trolling of the fanbase from the company that had WandaVision fans convinced that Mephisto, the X-Men, and/or Reed Richards would be appearing by the season finale.

* Honestly, I would have watched an entire episode that was just Loki, Mobius, and the others arguing about whether Alligator Loki was actually a Loki, or just a gator who ended up with the crown, presumably after eating a real Loki. The suggestion that the gator might be lying — and that this actually supports, rather than undermines, the case for him being a Loki — was just delightful. And hey, if Throg exists in the MCU now, why not Alligator Loki?

* Finally, the MCU films in general are not exactly known for their visual flair, though a few directors like Taika Waititi and Ryan Coogler have been able to craft distinctive images within the franchise’s usual template. Loki, though, is so often wonderful to look at, and particularly when our heroes are stuck in strange environments like Lamentis or the Void. Director Kate Herron and the VFX team work very well together to create dynamic and weird imagery like Sylvie running from Alioth, or the chaotic Loki battle in the bowling alley. Between this show and WandaVision, it appears the Disney+ corner of the MCU has a bit more room to expand its palette. (Falcon and the Winter Soldier, much less so.)

#Loki #spoilers #episode 5 #review #Rolling Stone #Alan Sepinwall

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kathyprior4200 · 4 years

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For His Entertainment

Art by 2p Alastor on Discord

One will soon find out that Alastor's no Radio Daddy nor lovey dovey Strawberry Pimp...

Alastor gets to rule all of Hell in an alternate universe, as a result of Charlie, Angel, and many others trusting him too easily. While everyone was busy with turf wars, sex schemes and working at the Hazbin Hotel to redeem sinners, no one seemed to fully catch onto the Radio Demon's hidden agenda until it was even too late for Lucifer.

Now with god-like power, Alastor alters Hell to his liking and plans to conquer Heaven, and even Earth.

But now he needs to entertain himself before his final conquest. He does what he does best; broadcasts his victory to an audience and lures listeners in...

...and this means you folks!

Part 1: Let’s Sing!

Denizens of Hell

Let’s burn it up

Yeah, check out ourselves

‘Cause you know you’re never fully dressed without a smile

Your powers may be mighty, forte

Your clothes crocodile

But then you’re never fully dressed without a smile

But if we stand for nothing, we’ll fall for it all

We got all we need, thanks to him

You’re never fully dressed without a smile

And if we stand for our sins, we can have it all

‘Cause if it’s real, our acts will never die

You’re never fully dressed without a smile

Radio not

Give it all we’ve got

Yeah you can’t deny

Alastor is never fully dressed without a smile

Don’t run away and then betray

He’ll eat you alive

But then you’re never fully dressed without

But if we stand for nothing, we’ll fall for it all

We got all we need, thanks to him

You’re never fully dressed without a smile

And if we stand for our sins, we can have it all

‘Cause if it’s real, our acts will never die

You’re never fully dressed without a smile

Now look at us

We turn it up

We set them on fire

‘Cause you know you’re never fully dressed without a smile

We shout it out

We’re slaying now

We’re living the life

But then we’re never fully dressed without

But if we stand for nothing, we’ll fall for it all

We got all we need, thanks to him

You’re never fully dressed without a smile

And if we stand for our sins, we can have it all

‘Cause if it’s real, our acts will never die

You’re never fully dressed without a smile

Part 2: What the Hell?

Hell was a place that defied typical expectations. For one, it wasn’t the fire and brimstone torture center of the universe. People would expect there to be all sorts of horrors awaiting in the bowels of the Earth: windstorms, tar pits, rolling boulders, fiery lakes, and frozen wastelands with Satan himself trapped inside.

Alas, it was not so. For in this Hell lay a run-down city that looked typical of a shady section of a metropolis found on Earth. It was called Pentagram City, as it was right underneath a glowing dark pink pentagram that remained stationary in the crimson sky above. The city was filled with strip clubs, drug stores, black markets in alleyways, and several sections of town that were destroyed due to turf wars. The city would look even worse when dark Archangels from Heaven would arrive once a year to purge the city of sinners at random. But no one seemed to care much about the loss of life. They mostly focused on their own greed and desires.

Down below were demons of all shapes and sizes mulling about their everyday afterlives.

No, not the typical red skinned horned devils you would expect to dwell there.

These demons ranged from dragons, to hellhounds, imps, lizards, and all sorts of animal-like creatures. Some even looked remotely human. Whether they were cyclops, clowns, spiders, or human-like with extra arms, they all generally walked on two feet. Some even had the heads of different objects like TVs and weapons. They could turn into more powerful versions of themselves: their full demon forms.

The majority of these demons were sinners who had died previously as humans and were sent to Hell as punishment. Some, like the hellhounds, imps, and Hell’s own princess were born there.

Additionally, there was an elite group of demons who possessed powers higher than average. They often ruled their own territories, had underlings at their beck and call, and instilled fear into the weaker denizens. They were called overlords. The overlords had also been human in their past lives. The overlords’ abilities were second only to the powerful royal family of Hell: Lucifer, Lilith and their daughter Charlie.

However, there was one overlord who was feared above all the others. From the moment he stepped into Hell, he was granted supernatural Eldritch powers on an unimaginably high scale. Teleportation, shadow manipulation, creating portals and conjuring fire were only some of the very many powers he possessed. Though polite, charming, and flamboyant at first glance, he was a master of manipulation, deceit, sorcery, and trickery.

One of his unique skills was radio broadcasting. Seemingly in less than a day, he had mercilessly slaughtered dozens of citizens, toppled powerful overlords, and claimed territories of his own. Using his microphone staff, he would broadcast his victories, so others would know of his influence.

Hence he was known as Alastor, the Radio Demon.

Alastor’s appearance also made him stand out…in a very disturbing way. His attire was reminiscent of the early 1900s. His outfit consisted of a pinstriped suit, and dress coat, vermillion red in color. Thin light red stripes trailed vertically down his red dress coat. His pants were a dark wine color and his shoes were black, with red deer prints on the soles. Indeed, he had several deer features, from his black and red deer tail, to large furry tufts shaped like deer ears and even two small pitch black antlers growing from his head. His hair was mostly red with the black ends reaching slightly past his chin and on top of his tufts. Black gloves with red dots over the knuckles covered his four-fingered claws that served as his hands. A black bow tie with a red center rested over his red undershirt, which displayed a black upside down cross design.

Perhaps his creepiest feature was his face. His chin was thin and pointed, his skin a pale gray color. An unnaturally wide sinister smile of sharp yellow teeth that fit together was nearly always present on his face. Large hypnotizing red eyes took up much of his face. A monocle rested under his right eye, connected by a thin chain.

Besides Hell not being the typical epitome of suffering, it was also not the way it was supposed to be. Though life was chaotic in the past, the city had functioned at a typical pace.

Not too long ago, the blonde, white-faced Princess Charlie decided to propose an idea that was downright ridiculous and outlandish to everyone else. She created the Happy Hotel as a place where sinners could learn how to be better people and hopefully, complete their own unique journeys toward redemption. Though Charlie was mocked and ridiculed, she wasn’t going to give up. A gray moth-like demon named Vaggie was her girlfriend and tough with a deadly spear. Angel Dust, a white porn-loving spider demon had been involved with drugs, turf wars, and was Hell’s number one porn star. Despite his sins, he had volunteered to help Charlie with her hotel and became her first client.

Alastor had arrived to the hotel as well, and offered to help Charlie run her hotel so he could be entertained for a while. He summoned other demons for assistance: a little hyperactive neat-freak cyclops named Niffty, and a grumpy gambling cat named Husk who always had a bottle of alcohol in his paws. Charlie was immediately enraptured with Alastor, even dancing and singing with him whenever the occasion arose. Vaggie, of course, was suspicious of him, even more so when he appeared to hinder Vaggie and Charlie’s relationship.

Charlie’s hope was that demons would be redeemed enough to be eligible to go to Heaven. This way, there would be less demons lost to the annual slaughter by the Archangels. Soon, she had hoped, there would only be happiness and a second chance given to everyone. In her own words and in her song, “Inside of every demon is a rainbow.” Lilith was often too busy with modeling and concerts to pay much attention to Charlie, but supported her the best she could. For obvious reasons, her father had disapproved of her idea. Having been banished from Heaven for rebelling against God, Lucifer gained his position by implementing fear and using his destructive powers. The Archangels spared the royal family in return for Lucifer letting them kill off the “common scum folk.” If demons were to leave, it could lead to a war between Heaven and Hell if the circumstances did not go well.

Indeed, things had gone from bad to worse. It started off with Alastor causing mischief barely noticed by anyone, save for Vaggie and Husk. He had changed the hotel name to the Hazbin Hotel. It was the little things he did: igniting a brawl here, encourage a bad rating there, all while keeping up appearances and encouraging the princess to work harder toward her goal.

It was speculated by many that Alastor actually wanted Charlie to succeed. The pretty blonde demon/angel hybrid had caught his eye when he first saw her on TV. Although he wasn’t interested in sex or romance, he did enjoy fun affectionate friendships…provided they benefited him and his goals. In fact, he was friends with many individuals, particularly Charlie, Rosie, Mimzy, Husk, and Niffty.

After many months of hard work, battles with evil overlords, parental brawls, and drama, many demons had been successfully rehabilitated, including Vaggie, Angel Dust and his twin sister, Molly. They had defeated/humiliated the maniac snake villain Sir Pentious, outsmarted the evil fish scientist Baxter, bested the evil Vs, (Valentino, Vox, and Velvet), along with saving themselves from more angels. Angel, Molly, Crymini, and Cherri Bomb had been active fighters when they weren’t hooked on meth or doing pole dancing for the lustful crowds. Husk slowly got out of his dark shell, made amends with his past and slowly started to warm up to everyone. Niffty got delusional in her fantasies of romance, men and power as she cooked, sewed, and cleaned. Whether she was redeemed and remained cute or turned psychotic…no one really knows. Charlie and the others were ready to reach the golden heavenly gates and change their afterlives…

Unfortunately, the angels in Heaven weren’t so keen to let any sinners enter Heaven so easily. They told Molly that she could enter as she wasn’t a demon, and Vaggie could enter if she took on penance and renounced her sins. Elite and entitled, the angels shooed Charlie, Niffty, Husk, Alastor, Angel and several others away, even sending some Archangels after them. Charlie and Lucifer blasted the angels back with their powers, saving the demon group and escaping back to Hell. But her actions caused inner mental concerns for her parents, God and the angels. God suspected that Charlie and Lucifer were trying to upstage Heaven’s duties and traditions. No matter what, Hell’s population would continue to grow, and surely the angels would be outnumbered if a war were to begin.

Charlie’s parents were not happy that Charlie had broken up with Seviathan Von Eldritch (like Leviathan the sea monster), Helsa’s brother and member of a wealthy rival family. She and Helsa were already fierce rivals, both families competing to be the most influential in Hell. In addition, they were getting tired of Charlie’s pursuit and wanted her to conform to Hell’s standards. Being a fearsome leader was, according to her father, Charlie’s destiny. After arguing with her parents and refusing to give up, Charlie had gone to Vaggie and Alastor for comfort. Vaggie comforted her and told her the harsh reality of the situation. Still, she refused to give up, despite feeling like a failure. Charlie decided to figure out a way to negotiate with her parents and the angels. Before she could proceed further however, Alastor comforted her with his velvety announcer voice and took her arm in arm for a walk.

The two of them sang, and danced, and even shared a kiss. Charlie felt like Alastor was redeeming himself and that things would be alright in the end.

It was at that optimal moment, that the predatory Radio Demon pounced upon his gullible prey.

Taken by surprise by surrounding voodoo spirits and black tentacles, Charlie fought back as much as she could. But a Creole lullaby sung by Alastor soon rendered her helpless. Charlie was kidnapped and briefly held hostage in Alastor’s lair. No rape or beating was involved, just a bunch of creepy touching and mind manipulating. He didn’t possess her but did manage to get her on his side when they were face to face with the king and queen. Alastor’s evil shadow held an angel’s spear to Charlie’s throat, a weapon capable of killing any demon. Alastor knew that his powers would not be enough against Lucifer. So he did the one thing to catch him off-guard: go for his child.

Alastor soon proposed a deal with Lucifer and Lilith: Charlie and her hotel would be spared…in exchange for the throne. Lucifer accepted…and soon found his dark powers depleted, traveling into Alastor’s microphone staff. He and the dark spirits were now free to take over Hell, cause chaos and feast on innocent demon bodies and souls.

It was at this moment that Alastor had a choice to make…one that could determine the fate of Hell itself. His mother was currently in Heaven, and he hadn’t seen her for decades. For a brief moment, Alastor saw Charlie and her friends struggling against the Exterminators…even Lucifer and Lilith were having a hard time. He could either give into his evil carnal desires; claiming Hell and its denizens as his own. Or he could step in, save Charlie and the others (while giving back Lucifer’s power and everyone’s free will.) He could free Husk and Niffty from their servitude to him, deeply apologize and help save the day.

Alas, he did not.

Instead, he succumbed to his primal evil ways, losing any last trace of what little humanity he had left.

The results were catastrophic. Though several demons and overlords joined together to try and defeat the Radio Demon, the damage had already been done. The Archangels had been a great threat to Hell. With Lilith and Lucifer’s powers gone and Charlie devastated that her plan had failed, Alastor was the only one strong enough to overtake so many Exterminators at once. Reluctantly, the other demons let Alastor take the lead…which would soon be a fatal mistake.

Using his powerful magic, and deal-making, nearly everyone in Hell was soon under his control. Their eyes would glow demonic red with moving radio dials in place of pupils. Sinister smiles of sharp teeth would always be present on their faces. They could be moved like puppets, be summoned, and be called to perform musicals at any time. The citizens weren’t mindless zombies however; they kept some of their original traits and were more than willing to serve their new overlord. Even princess Charlie was now Alastor’s queen and best friend (though they never had sex or married). Those who refused to surrender were slowly tortured and cooked alive.

Hell’s population was now a hive-mind, and the lord of chaos was their leader.

Part 3: Domain of the Radio Demon

The crimson sky in Hell would often shift back and forth to a variety of colors…neon green, purple, black and then back to red. Giant red Voodoo symbols lay scattered in the sky and vibrated like dancing clouds. Radio towers loomed at every corner of Hell, jazz music constantly pulsing among the radio waves. A smug Alastor lounged in his newly conjured throne, a tall golden chair with a shadow wendigo on the back, red voodoo symbols decorating the sides and a pair of black antlers fastened at the very top. Black tentacles slithered everywhere like dark snakes.

All the drug stores and strip clubs had vanished. Valentino, the formerly powerful porn studio owner, sat helplessly as his studio burned to the ground, thanks to shadowy dragons breathing fire from their mouths. Pentagram City now resembled New Orleans in the early 1900s. A demonic version of Mardi Gras was celebrated for four months of the year, complete with the typical yellow, green and purple costumes, masks and decorations. The parade was the same as on Earth, save for the animated voodoo dolls that ran around fighting each other or poking at demons with black pitchforks. The stock market was obviously crashed, as it was Hell, but even more so now. It was stuck like the 1929 crash, resulting in tons of crying demon orphans roaming the streets with nowhere to go. The demons wore suits, dapper dresses, top hats and other stylish attire against their will.

All the tea and sweets shops were gone, replaced with coffee shops and stores selling deer meat. Demon farmers were forced to burn all the strawberries they could find. Imps from the Immediate Murder Professionals were paid to enter Earth and bring game for Alastor to hunt in Hell. On occasion, the imps would capture lone humans wandering around on Earth. Once they were brought back, Alastor would break their bones, strangle them, skin them alive, or shoot them…all while broadcasting their screams on the air. Whether they were men or women didn’t matter to him. He never harmed any children or elderly individuals. The humans’ agonized yells and cries for help were music to his ears. He almost enjoyed it as much as eating them.

In Alastor’s previous life, there was a cult following of macabre-loving listeners who would tune in and listen to his grisly descriptions of murders over cheery music. Although in Hell, Alastor didn’t have to worry about keeping his work secret from the public. In fact, it was the only thing that was broadcast, both on radio and on TV.

Now, the Radio Demon was happily singing his favorite song before finishing another broadcast about his carnage. He would sing it at the end of every session, his microphone staff lit up.

“Hey, hobo man, Hey Dapper Dan

You’ve both got your style

But Brother, you’ve never fully dressed without a smile!”

“Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But Brother you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

“Who cares what they’re wearing

On Main Street or Saville Row

It’s what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe that matters”

“So, Senator, So Janitor

So long for a while

Remember you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

The Hazbin Hotel was now a base for warrior demons walking through portals to invade Heaven. The remaining Archangels still had to be defeated, and the demons had been fitted with armor, spears and bursts of dark power, allowing them to fly and resist attacks. One of the portals revealed a section of blue sky and white clouds. To protect themselves from the sunlight, some of the shadow spirits embedded themselves into living demons’ bodies when they traveled to Heaven.

Alastor grinned, Lucifer’s pointed black crown now resting on his head of red and black hair. Charlie wore her mother’s crown and sat in an equally sized throne next to him, the throne decorated with voodoo symbols and red apples. She had been gifted with a trident with an apple in the middle of it, the silver prongs turning red in color at the tips. She also had a conjured microphone staff, this one white and pink with an apple in the center. Charlie wore a fancy red dapper dress, black dress shoes, and a gold necklace with a ruby apple surrounded by two little golden antlers arching from it. Her eyes were red like his and her straight dark horns jutted from her blonde hair.

Alastor leaned his face toward Charlie who smiled and blushed.

“Wow, Alastor,” she exclaimed enthusiastically, “I always imagined that Hell could be a better place for everyone, free of torture and yearly exterminations. But I never thought it could be anything like this.”

The couple watched as several voodoo spirits rode on skeletal horses and waving their harpoons at oncoming Archangels. A brown voodoo doll was hoisted up in the air by a dark gray demon wearing a cowboy hat. With a sickening slash, the doll sliced off the Archangel’s black feathery wings with a sharp knife. The robotic assassin fell to the ground, where it was trampled to death by a large cyclops waving a club.

Five Exterminators flew through the portal by the Hazbin Hotel, dodging poisoned arrows being shot from bat-like demons flapping in the air. A few pale-skinned demons down on the street had been heartless soldiers during the World War. They shouted in German and rode black tanks while firing at the angels from old bayonets. The soldiers possessed many animal-like traits, but they all had been human in their past lives. They were everywhere…Nazis, Soviets, Muslim terrorists, European explorers and conquers, unaware of their influence on third world countries and poorer communities. Russians, Americans, Germans, Japanese, French…all former enemies on Earth were now united in a brainwashed haze.

Alastor waved his hand and several soldiers and Archangels were flown backwards, crashing into brick walls so hard that their heads were crushed in a bloody mess on impact.

Charile’s smile fell and her eyes widened, a trace of her former self, rising to the surface. For a brief moment, her large orbs turned their former yellow. Alastor stood up and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“No need to get upset, doll-face. Death is a part of life…or the afterlife in this case. This is Hell, after all. There’s bound to be suffering and loss of life at some point. Besides, they were bad people, who deserved what they got. A lose-lose for them.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well it was either a painful final death or being under slavery for a while. To tell you the truth, I personally think there are worse things than death.”

Charlie stared out into the horizon, where plumes of smoke swirled upwards toward the crimson colored clouds.

Charlie answered, as flickers of memories flashed in her mind. “Like all the violence and hate that goes on down here. How sinners never get a second chance to get better.”

Alastor shook his head. “I was thinking of the loss of free will. When you are bound by the rules of society and you never get a chance to express yourself. When people are so quick to label you as a freak, or a psycho, or a madman. It’s all because they don’t understand what it means to get a thrill out of life. Even if the thrill involves killing and eating people…if it’s a way to get food and relive stress and boredom, why not keep going? Sinners and demons and humans alike, living their pathetic greedy lives…I’ve done them a favor by granting them their demise.”

Charlie’s eye flickered from red to yellow and back again.

“But you’re a sinner too. And so are your friends. Why set them to this fate?”

Alastor narrowed his eyes and summoned his red microphone staff in his right hand.

“Well, ‘this fate’ as you so put it, is the fate they chose for themselves. You saw for yourself how they shook my hand, one by one. I offered them anything and everything to make their lives in Hell more enjoyable. It was the least I could do, me being a gentleman.”

He spread out his arms. “Look how happy they are!”

Charlie glance over toward her friend Vaggie, who bore a grin of sharp teeth that was very unlike the angry, aggressive, protective woman she was before. Her Hispanic voice and accent sounded like it was being played through a radio. She let out a laugh as she struck an Archangel in the chest with her harpoon. Angel Dust was relaxing and looking through a book of dad jokes instead of browsing through a porn magazine. (He had cried when he was forced to burn them before he got possessed.) Niffty dashed around, cleaning up corpses that littered the streets. She even took the time to mop up the rest of the spilled guts. Even Husk, normally grumpy, was grinning ear to ear as he sat and gambled with a few other demons sitting at an outdoor table near a bar.

Charlie was appalled. “How dare you possess my friends like that?!”

“Our friends,” he corrected. “I didn’t kill them, and I do appreciate their company.”

“No, no, that can’t be right…” A pureness inside of her had made herself feel lighter, her head clearer than it had been in days. Then she spoke a thought that she had kept bottled up for too long.

“This is all wrong.”

Part 4: Sinister Plan

Just then, a faint shuffling of steps came from behind Charlie’s throne. Charlie glanced behind her, wondering what could be making that sound. Alastor closed his eyes and sniffed the air. “Oh my, this is going to be fun.”

He tapped his microphone and the red eye in the center glowed red. A halo of light emitted from around the top of the staff.

“Hello,” he said with a little laugh, speaking into it. “Is this thing on?”

“I heard you loud and clear…again!” came the radio voice from the microphone.

“Greetings demons and demonesses of Hell! It’s your favorite radio host, Alastor, live on the air! I’m here with my dear queen Charlie and one of her friends, Angel Dust. Hell’s previous porn star has been feeling a bit…under the weather. Let’s get his head cleared up, shall we?”

Glancing at Angel Dust, he snapped his fingers. The red from the white spider demon’s eyes faded, and his eyes turn their normal colors: a black right eye and white left eye with pink pupils. Angel Dust shook his head.

“Man that must’ve been one horrible trip. How the fuck did I get out here?”

Angel rubbed his eyes and looked around at the peculiar version of Hell… the psychedelic colors and symbols in the sky, Alastor sitting on his throne, Lucifer’s throne in pieces nearby…and Charlie staring at him with concern.

Angel sighed in frustration out loud. “I knew taking that extra meth was a bad idea. Now I’m tripping into another trip. Is this double Hell?”

“Angel, it’s me, Charlie!” Charlie called.

“Hey there, babe,” he said, using a friendly nickname. “What are you doing over there? You look very different. And what’s the strawberry radio pimp doing up on that chair?”

Alastor’s eyes flared in warning.

“No time to explain,” Charlie said, urgency in her voice. “He’s freed you for some reason, but you gotta get out of here!”

Alastor cleared his throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Angel raised his eyebrows. The shuffling from Charlie’s throne started up again, followed by the sound of oinks. A small pink potbellied pig strolled out from behind the throne after looking around.

Angel’s eyes lit up. He held out his pink gloved hands.

“Fat Nuggets! Come here, boy!”

With a happy snort, the pig bounded on all four stubby legs into Angel’s lower arms.

“Aww, my pudgy little pig! So glad I found you.” He nuzzled his pet as the pig gave him a friendly lick on his furry cheek. His pink curly tail wagged as Angel tenderly rubbed his flappy ears. A genuine smile crossed his face, followed by a glare directed toward Alastor.

“I’m not gonna let that red-haired handsome creep get a hold of you. We gotta get back to the hotel. So nice…and strange of him to free me like that. I knew that he was hiding some of his feelings toward me.”

Charlie’s eyes widened and she pointed behind Angel with a shaky finger.

“Like I said,” Angel continued, fluffing up his chest. “Even the weird guys can’t get enough of this lovely body!”

“Uh Angel…” Charlie gulped. “I think I know why he freed you…”

A faint slithering sound came from behind him followed by a low growl.

Angel slowly looked behind him, and was met face to face with a leering white mouth and plain white eyes against darkness.

“Run!” Charlie cried, as tentacles materialized from behind her and wrapped tightly around her waist.

Angel brought out his gun in two hands and fired rapidly at the shadow apparition in front of him. He nestled Fat Nuggets in some of his other hands.

The black tentacles caught on fire as Charlie burned them off her. Thin shadow imps flew around her like bats, as she showed them away with a burst of orange fire from her mouth. The shadows shrieked and vanished…but more kept coming.

Alastor’s shadow look-alike held a dark fork and knife in his hands.

“Oh no you don’t, hungry fucker!” Angel yelled, firing more blasts. His fur turned black and he grew several inches taller. The shadow was temporarily blinded by the flashes of light, and was being pushed back. The shadow jumped, arms spread out before Angel dodged out of the way. The shadow vanished into the ground, before shooting back up. Tentacles grabbed hold of Angel’s multiple arms, and Fat Nuggets slipped from his hand.

“Uh oh!” Charlie yelped. Charlie raced toward the pig to help him but soon fell through a small round portal, decorated with a red pentagram and symbols. A second portal appeared in the air, Charlie falling through…

…and landing right into Alastor’s arms.

“Oops,” he said, a mischievous look in his eyes. He caught her by holding her side and her legs with his hands. “Looks like Charlie’s falling for me once again!”

Audience laughter emitted from the microphone.

Charlie turned red in the face and scrambled out of his arms.

The pork pig ran as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

“Here piggy piggy,” Alastor crooned in a sing-song voice.

Angel Dust broke free of the black tentacles holding him down. He jumped high in the air and leapt toward Alastor. He rammed into a large emerging tentacle and slid down to the ground. One tentacle curled around his waist, a smaller one around his neck.

“Choking me, are ya?” Angel wheezed with a wink. “Where’s the deeper pressure? Hahaha, that the best ya got?”

The spider suddenly yelped as he was flung high into the air by the large dark tendril.

“Whoooaaaa!”

Angel flailed in the air beginning his decent. A second tendril caught him around three of his arms just before he hit the ground. Circus music played from the microphone.

Then he was thrown into the air again, before being caught again by four tendrils woven tightly together. He was tossed again several more times before being lowered to the ground. The music stopped.

“Whew, fuck!” Angel exclaimed, catching his breath. “And I thought getting high was exhilarating…but it’s not as much fun as really going high...Hey!”

A large tentacle wrapped tightly around Angel, causing him to stumble to the ground. Several more tendrils assisted with pinning down his arms and legs.

“Oooh yeah, gotta love me some hentai,” Angel grinned with a moan, lust in his eyes. His fur turned back to white. “Tighter, daddy!” His chest fluffed up and he spread out his legs.

Alastor reeled back in disgust, hiding his revulsion with his usual smile. “You really are a sick perverted fellow, aren’t you?”

Angel laughed with a wink, “I’d love to catch you in my web someday.”

A pause.

Surprisingly, Alastor chuckled in reply. “I wouldn’t start laughing just yet.” He pointed off in the distance.

Angel Dust turned to look, and saw a gut-wrenching sight.

Alastor’s shadow was snickering as he held Fat Nuggets in one of his dark hands. Charlie was still fighting off the horde of hovering spirits surrounding her.

“It was quite entertaining distracting you,” Alastor added.

Rage flashed in Angel’s eyes. “I’m gonna kill you, you bastard!” He struggled against his bonds, Charlie helping him get free by burning the tentacles away.

The shadow vanished into the ground and reappeared beside Alastor. He gently dropped Fat Nuggets into his gloved hands.

Charlie and Angel gasped.

“Thank you, dear fellow,” he grinned at his shadow counterpart. “I was getting pretty hungry.” He stared darkly at Angel. “My, how the tables have turned…”

He ran his slender fingers across the pig’s back, the animal squealing in protest.

“Let my baby boy go!” Angel yelled, teeth bared. “I’ll fucking tear you to pieces and shit on them for good measure!”

The Radio Demon reared his head back with a malevolent cackle.

“You are quite the fun, effeminate fellow, Angel! It’s always a pleasure to mess around with my fellow sinners. Now I believe… it’s time for my snack.”

He spoke in a low voice through his staff. “Brace yourselves folks, because I’m going to savor this porky morsel right here!”

Fat Nuggets squirmed and squealed and shrieked with all his might.

Charlie breathed a blast of scarlet fire from her mouth, but Alastor caught the flames with his hand. The flames turned an eerie green and molded to fit inside his palm.

“Thanks for the heat!” he called out.

Fat Nuggets wailed in protest as Alastor held him by the scruff of the neck over the flames.

Angel dashed toward the Radio Demon again, only for two tendrils to crash into his gut and send him soaring backwards. He stood up on shaky legs.

The pig’s screams echoed throughout the streets. A shrill sizzling sound and the smell of smoke made Angel’s fur stand up. The pig’s pink skin glowed in a slight ember tone, turning red, black burns creeping up underneath his belly. Alastor’s fingers remained unharmed within the emerald colored flames.

Tears flowed down Angel’s cheeks as he let out an ear-shattering wail that caused the asphalt below him to crack. Angel and Charlie watched helplessly as the creature continued to be cooked. Off to the side, the pig’s round shadow was impaled by a black fork. Alastor’s shadow opened his mouth, closing around the shadow pig’s body. Swallowing his meal whole, the shadow fork came back out, empty.

The smell of copper, fire, and burnt pork wafted in the air. The physical charred pig gasped for breath as he stared at Angel one last time with wide pleading black eyes.

“No, no, FUCK, NO!”

Angel reached out his gloved hands fruitlessly toward his beloved pet, the black tentacles stretching out to meet his movements like thick rubber bands.

The green flames vanished, smoke rising from Fat Nuggets’ hide. He was moved closer to a wide open mouth with rows of sharp yellow teeth. Angel and the pig met each other’s eyes, staring deep into each other’s souls before…

CRUNCH!

Yellow fangs sank deep into Fat Nuggets’ lower neck. Specks of blood shot off haphazardly into the air. Fat Nuggets let out one last croaking squeal before his body went limp. Bits of red and pink muscle tore off, lodging between fangs before vanishing. Pools of dark red blood were lapped away by a long lavender-pink tongue. The rest of the pig soon vanished inside the Radio Demon’s mouth before the sharp canines closed. The sounds of chewing were soon followed by the inevitable swallow.

Alastor’s eyes glowed red, his voice turning lower in satisfaction and pleasure.

“AHHHHAHAHA… that was absolutely delicious!” He conjured a red napkin and whipped away the remaining blood around his mouth. “Finally got a taste of some yummy fresh bacon.” He looked at Angel and chuckled. “And after all those times you kept your pet away from me…HA! It was only a matter of time before I got my revenge.”

Angel sank to his knees and sobbed. “Fucking murderous bag of deer shit! You’re gonna go to a Hell even worse than this one, when I’m through with you…”

“Not if I can change that,” he replied.

Alastor waved his staff and an invisible force hit Angel in the face. He winced and clutched his forehead, letting out an estranged yell. He appeared to be struggling inside his head, trying to ward off the invading magic seeping into his brain. After several minutes, his eyes soon turned red once more, his six arms going stiff at his side. The red radio dials replaced his pink pupils at the same time an evil smile was displayed across his white face.

“Monster!” cried Charlie, looking from Angel to Alastor.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” said Alastor with a shrug. “Our friends are basically the same people,” Alastor said. “It’s just their thoughts and behaviors have been altered to better suit my tastes. It makes ruling Hell much easier, and it’s a necessary precaution. I have a fearsome reputation to keep up, and it must be known by everyone.”

A long repressed thought emerged into her mind in a flash. “Where are my parents?”

“Safe and snug in the voodoo spirits’ domain, separate and powerless, of course. I’m still trying to figure out how to fully control angels, but in regards to your mother…”

He let out a sneer, “…It wasn’t too hard getting inside her head.”

Charlie imagined Alastor flirting with Lilith and inwardly gagged.

“You…you creep!” Charlie yelled, shaking her head, her eyes returning to their normal golden hue. She glanced over toward the Hazbin Hotel in the distance, memories starting to appear.

“I have to get back to the hotel…” she thought. “I’m supposed to help redeem sinners. What am I doing sitting on a throne without everyone dancing happily in Heaven? I have to figure something out to stop him…my people need my help.”

Part 5: Demonic Possession

Charlie jogged off rapidly down the steps and across the street. She kept the old Hazbin Hotel building in her line of sight, the building silhouette a beacon in a sea of flashing neon colors illuminating from the sky. One by one, as if on cue, her friends slowly turned their heads to look at her. Vaggie walked zombie-like toward Charlie and held out her spear in front of her. Vaggie’s right eye was red and glowing, her left eye missing behind her hair and an ugly red x. Angel Dust, also smiling, spread out all six of his arms, two of them holding a gun. His legs were slightly bent. He appeared to be in a position to pounce, like a spider who had spotted a nearby fly. Husk arched his back and bared his yellow fangs, while Niffty burst harmlessly into flames with a giggle nearby.

All stared unblinkingly at the princess, sharp fangs showing.

“Guys, it’s me, Charlie!” cried Charlie, stopping in her tracks and holding out her hands. “Alastor’s using you. You have to let me pass! That’s an order!”

Alastor chuckled darkly from behind, inching closer to her.

“My dear, I’m afraid it’s not going to work. Their souls are firmly bond to me. Only I can free them.”

“Then let them go!”

“Heheheheheheh…Why would I bother doing that? That would only hinder my progress and end goals. Which reminds me…”

He appeared in front of Charlie, materializing from shadow. Charlie’s horns grew and she conjured red fire around her. Her eyes widened and her sclera turned pink. Before he could speak, she yelled and unleashed a powerful blast of force that knocked the Radio Demon back. Niffty rushed at her at full speed. She landed several fast punches to Charlie’s chest, orange and red flames battling for control. Charlie tossed Niffty to the side, being sure she landed in a soft patch of dried grass off to the side. Charlie then shot out a volley of fire toward Alastor, who blocked it with a tower of black tentacles that rose from the ground in front of him. A blast rang out from Angel’s gun and Charlie felt something hit her leg.

“Shit!” she seethed.

She reached down with one hand and pulled out a dart. Charlie recognized the small trident symbol on the top.

“Playing with Baxter’s toys? That’s not like you, Angel!”

A numbing sensation instantly crept up her leg. She shook it, trying to make the feeling go away. Heavy spots tap dancing along her leg and foot…no other clear way for her to describe the feeling.

Charlie shot another blast of fire toward Alastor, but Vaggie swiped it away with her weapon.

“Last time I remember, you were the one protecting me from him!” Charlie exclaimed. “You have to snap out of it.”

Vaggie’s eyes glowed red, her stretched out smile plastered on her face. “Alastor’s the one protecting us from the Archangels. He helped save us from Sir Pentious, Vox, and Valentino, remember? He’s helped out with the hotel as well. You can protect and lead us, too. Just let him help you.”

“No!” Panic and desperation was flowing through her now. She would not let herself be possessed again. She walked over to Vaggie, leg shaking. “Remember our relationship, Vaggie. You’re my girlfriend. I’m sorry if I didn’t listen to your warnings about him before. We have a chance to make things right again.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she held them back.

Vaggie smiled, “Yes, I am your girlfriend, if that’s what you would like...”

Her voice was monotone. Charlie held onto a brief glimmer of hope…

“And I know we’ll both be happy together under Alastor’s reign.”

“Please,” Charlie begged. “Come back to me. Is this what you really want?”

“I just want you to be happy,” Vaggie said. “With or without me.”

The real Vaggie would’ve gutted Alastor right then and there if he had laid a finger on Charlie.

Charlie tenderly cupped one of her gray cheeks. “I want to be happy, too. Just…”

She wiped away a stray tear.

“Listen to me. Stop fighting, please.”

Vaggie’s wide grin never left her face. “Why are you crying, Charlie? Let me see your beautiful smile.”

Charlie gasped softly and after a moment, stepped back. Her numbing leg wobbled underneath her.

Niffty and Angel walked over to her.

“Let’s put on our happy faces and kick some…Archangel butt!” Angel added. “Crying’s unacceptable!” His usual brash Italian-like accent was warped by an underlying radio-sounding effect.

Charlie knew Angel had tried to use a swear word in his sentence. Angel would never hold back on cussing.

Niffty giggled, flames vanishing from her body. “My, my, what a mess you’re in! Tear and sadness just won’t do!” Even her chipper, rapid voice was meshed with glitchy static sounds. It was almost like Alastor was speaking though each of them. A fiery pentagram surrounded Charlie’s feet. “Everyone just stay back!” Charlie was about to run, when Husk leaped and grabbed her arms from behind.

“Husk, let go of me!” Charlie yelled.

A brief silence.

Click, clack. Click, clack. Click, clack.

A rhythmic tap, tap, taping of shoes grew closer.

Husk’s furry face was the epitome of a cat high on catnip. “Being happy would be purrfect for you,” he crooned, a low mechanical drone following seconds after the cat demon spoke.

Husk was never happy. And he certainly did not care for any dad jokes. The fiery pentagram vanished.

“Listen and obey, darling,” hummed a familiar voice.

In the blink of an eye, Alastor was standing in front of her. He leaned down slightly.

“As I was going to say before that interrupting fight…that angel part of you keeps trying to resist my power. It’s been happening several times each month.”

He briefly cupped her chin with his gloved hand.

“But no matter. Once all the angels have been defeated and Earth becomes more accessible, perhaps I’ll gain enough power to keep you in check…permanently.”

Tears sprang from Charlie’s eyes. She struggled harder against Husk, but her arms were held firmly in place. A lone black tentacle was securely wrapped around her legs, moving toward her arms. “No… no, stop it! Stop!”

With a free hand, she slapped Alastor hard across the face.

Turning his head back around, Alastor dug his sharp nails into Charlie’s bare arm, leaving several cuts. Her arms were quickly pinned behind her.

Fresh blood oozed from the cuts, Charlie wincing in pain.

Alastor grinned, dipping in his claws a bit deeper. He brought his fingers toward his mouth and licked off Charlie’s blood from his fingers.

Coppery and sickly sweet.

“Oh my. Your demonic blood is just as sweet as your personality and looks.”

Disgust filled Charlie’s gut, and she tried not to faint.

Charlie took a breath. She had to escape.

Charlie swore and opened her mouth in a fearsome demonic roar. But Alastor remained unfazed.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said in a sing-song voice. “There’s no need for that, my dear.” He lifted up the corners of her mouth with his fingers, Charlie growling once he let go. “If I wanted to, I could’ve killed you and all your loved ones. Just like that. But then again, it’d be pointless to do so to a charming demon belle with your level of influence. Besides, life would be soooo boring without you and our lovely friends around to entertain me! Your plan may have failed, but I assure you, you’re no failure.”

He then spoke almost in a whisper. “After all, who knew you’d play a big part in The Radio Demon’s success?”

Alastor’s black antlers grew slightly taller, arching out to the sides. His red eyes rolled back into his head and turned black, moving red dials appearing in the center. He closed his hand and several glistening drops of blood fell to the ground. The old scratching static-like sounds of a radio intermingled with his low chuckle. He lifted up her pale chin with his microphone staff and spoke in a low demonic voice, “Smile my dear, and look into my eyes.”

Charlie squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip.

Alastor’s voice rose back up to normal as he began to sing.

“You have a dream, you wish to tell, about happiness and harmony in Hell…”

Charlie’s breathing quickened as jazz music began to play not too far away. The music waved and spiraled in her head, overpowering her thoughts of resistance. She breathed deeply and willed herself not to listen to his singing. Her thoughts soon drowned away as his velvety voice continued. Her eyes slowly opened…

“I’m here to help you out, we’ll go the extra mile…but you’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

The world around her turned red as she stared into Alastor’s eyes. Voodoo symbols meshed with static and fractured bits of reality. A lone elongated shadow with the appearance of a small male deer, seeped harmlessly into her bare shoulder, traveling through her body before fading away in distorted specks. Charlie’s insides felt ice cold, as if some of the warm energy coursing through her core had been sucked away. Husk released the shivering princess and stepped back with the others. Charlie’s mind went blank, hands falling at her sides, her black pupils rolling back into her head. Her sclera turned from yellow to crimson red. A wide fanged smile appeared on her face as the strange cold feeling vanished.

“That’s much better,” Alastor smiled as he reverted back to his regular form.

Alastor held out his two gloved hands and Charlie took them. They moved their legs and bodies in sync as the jazz music grew louder.

“Alright, listeners, it’s time for a brand new song! Feel free to dance and sing along!” A band of shadow spirits were playing jazz instruments as they appeared from a crater in the ground. Together, the two of them danced and sang a demonic duet as the battle continued in the distance.

“A one, a two, and here we go…”

Part 6: Hazbin Madness

(“Hazbin Madness/Alastor’s Army”)

(Alastor) “Among the flames and gore

In Hell’s city galore

Radio waves spread wide”

“We dance along the floor

We’ll show you what’s in store

Here, there’s no place to hide”

(Alastor) “Welcome to my Heaven in Hell

(Charlie) Where demons never see the light

Shadow spirits: (Alright!)

(Alastor) With my lovely demon belle

(Charlie) And my gentleman of might

(Both) The realms will all be ours tonight!”

Shadow spirits: (That’s right!)

(Both) “Come on out and have some fun

Taking out souls one by one

We’re back in style, dressed with a smile

Embrace our rule, you cannot run”

Shadow spirits: (No one can run from the Radio Demon)

(Chorus)

“Come down

(Come down!)

Don’t turn back around

Beware the Hazbin Madness

Our demon army’s abound

Come down

(Come down!)

Go smile and play

But don’t fight against us

Lest your life slips away” (Hey!)

(Charlie) “My life was changed by a twist of fate

(Alastor) My heart was battered by gnawing hate

(Charlie) Those who begin with a fresh clean slate

(Alastor) Won’t know their own failure until it’s too late”

(Alastor) “Welcome to my Heaven in Hell

(Charlie) Where demons never see the light

Shadow spirits: (Alright!)

(Alastor) With my lovely demon belle

(Charlie) And my chaos lord of might

(Both) The realms will all be ours tonight!”

Shadow spirits: (That’s right!)

(Shadow Spirits and possessed characters, clapping)

“Hey, hey, say no more!

We follow our overlord Alastor!

Hey, hey, say no more!

We follow our overlord Alastor!

Hey, hey, say no more!

We follow our overlord Alastor!

Hey, hey, say no more!

We follow our overlord Alastor!”

(Chorus)

“Come down

(Come down!)

Don’t turn back around

Beware the Hazbin Madness

Our demon army’s abound

Come down

(Come down!)

Go smile and play

But don’t fight against us

Lest your life slips away” (Hey!)

The two rulers waltzed through a puddle of blood, sang over the screams of demons being slaughtered by a few brave Archangels. The possessed crowd ran off back into battle. The Radio Demon spun Charlie around in a circle, soon stopping her fall. Alastor’s staff was bathed in red light, and a beam of white shone from the eye in the center of the microphone, providing a spotlight for them.

Soon, the song was over and the dance finished with a demonic Charlie in Alastor’s arms. Alastor leaned in and kissed Charlie softly on the lips. Blushes crept over her pale cheeks. They soon parted.

Charlie laughed in delight. “Oh Alastor, that was so much fun! Can we dance some more?” Neither of them minded the splatters of blood on their fancy outfits nor the sound of hell flies buzzing around dead demons littering the streets.

Alastor clicked his tongue. “As entertaining that would be, there’s still some work to be done. Those Archangels and rival demons aren’t going to kill themselves.”

“I’ve never been to Heaven or Earth before,” Charlie mentioned, eyes shining. “I’ll get to see what those places are like, right?”

“Indeed you will,” said Alastor. “Those who try and stop us will fall down to the inferno of failure. Soon, we’ll get the chance to rule several realms, and look forward to endless entertainment! Who knows, you might get a chance to meet an angel or a mortal…at least, those who survive long enough.”

“And we can celebrate our victory with dancing and good food,” Charlie added, licking her lips.

“Niffty and I can whip up all sorts of dishes. Coffee and eggs for breakfast, Jambalaya for lunch, demon and deer meat for dinner…”

“Are there any specialties?” she asked.

Alastor grinned and nodded. “Human flesh.”

He let out a maniacal laugh as Charlie and her friends joined in.

Alastor spoke into his lit up microphone. “Thank you again for tuning in, fellow sinners! I’ll see you next time on your one and only station, 66.6 FM. And remember, you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

The microphone blinked off.

Part 7: Angels and Demons

After the other demons had their evil moments of fun, they casually went back to doing their own things. Charlie and Alastor walked back, arm in arm toward the thrones.

“Hmm,” Alastor thought out loud. “I wonder how the denizens of Heaven are faring during this tremulous time.”

“Let’s go and find out!” Charlie said.

With a snap of his fingers, they were in front of the flaming portal by the Hazbin Hotel. They stepped through the hole and onto a white fluffy cloud. There was the city of Heaven, perched in the clouds with a white halo of light around the outside. From a distance, it looked like a ringed planet.

Usually, Heaven would be a pristine, orderly utopia with dancing angels, bustling city-goers and choirs singing “holy, holy, holy!” in sweet voices. It would usually be quite peaceful, the complete antithesis of Hell. It would certainly be the ideal place that Charlie had imagined it would be back when she proposed the idea of sinners getting redeemed.

But not today…pandemonium was everywhere.

Archangels with dark feathery wings flew at top speed, slicing off the bat-like wings of large scaly creatures and dragons. The golden temples, platinum office buildings, and other structures had been set on fire by a rogue band of hellhounds clad in spiky collars, leather jackets, and torn pants. The gems in the walls had been taken out and looted by shadowy bandits. A flash of grinning teeth were shown behind the dark hoods as the demon robbers inspected their prizes and jumped back toward Hell. A pale-faced angel scurried away in fright from two imps waving chainsaws in the air.

One spire made of glass toppled down onto the solar-paneled street, shattering into a dozen pieces.

“In just a matter of moments, this world will also be mine…erm, ours,” Alastor quickly added. His microphone lit up and he broadcast the battle as it continued on.

The Archangels Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, and Uriel fired beams of heavenly light at the shadow demons, causing them to explode. But thanks to Alastor’s power, fortified further by Lucifer’s power he had obtained, more shadows kept sprouting up like wicked weeds.

“That demon down there…” Raphael pointed downward and looked at his brethren. He was a healer angel with long brown hair, a white face, a pair of white feathery wings and earthly green robe over his shoulders and body. “He has the powers of our fallen brother Lucifer. I can sense angelic energy in his staff weapon.”

“May I remind you that Lucifer’s no angel,” Michael stated, brows furrowed. He had thick red curly hair, a white face with the red blushes, plus yellow eyes. He was dressed in blue armor, with gold shoulder pads, a red Christian cross symbol on his breastplate and a winged gold helmet on his head. His armored boots were golden. He unsheathed his sword Excalibur, a powerful weapon with a blade capable of going aflame. It had a gold curved hilt with a red gem in the center. “He’s a demon and a traitor. Our Lord’s creation, Man is indeed, quite flawed and their lives are…shall I say…infantile when compared to ours.”

“Don’t go down the same pride-driven path as Lucifer,” Uriel warned him as the battle continued around them. Uriel had short blonde hair, white wings, a thin white face, a white suit and tie to go with his plain look. He could have easily blended into the white puffy clouds. A demon crashed into Michael’s silver shield and he swatted the demon away with a burst of strength. “Uriel continued. “He deemed humans to be inferior simpletons made to serve angels and perish. Do you want to get banished to Hell and meet the damned?”

“Look at this place!” Michael exclaimed, slashing a demon in half with his sword. “It’s practically Hell already! Thanks to those imps and their portal-creating abilities, all these cretins have invaded our realm!” Michael briefly transformed into a dark Exterminator and swooped through the air, showing no mercy to nearby demons. He transformed back and stood by the others.

“I don’t think that’s the whole story,” Gabriel added. He had long curly blonde hair, a white face, yellow eyes, and wore a robe of light blue. “I think that red demon was somehow able to use his powers to create a portal to Heaven.”

Gabriel took a breath, disintegrating a snake demon in a flash of light.

“But, back to the topic before…God must have had a good reason to create mortals. They were created in His image, after all. They were created to reproduce…to pass on their traditions and knowledge to future generations. God needs a variety of living beings to revere him. Unlike us, Angels, mortals always change and evolve.”

“Yes,” Uriel responded. He looked around in worry at the carnage. “This was what God was afraid of…he was worried that Hell’s overpopulation would get so bad that there were be no room left, even in Hell. Well, that’s not exactly the case here… however…he also feared Lucifer would seek revenge and create an army to try and take His place.”

“But I thought Lucifer had made a pact with Him and us,” Michael said, shooting blasts of fire at a horde of demons below. “Lucifer agreed not to set foot in Heaven again. He rules Hell for crying out loud! And, if I can recall, he also has a wife and a child to look after.”

“Yes, well, a common thing for a human to do,” Uriel said. “We angels aren’t encouraged to mate and procreate. Not that we could, even if we wanted to.” A hint of longing was etched in his voice.

He briefly leaned down slightly and set his golden eyes on a red demon woman, the lady flaunting much of her bosoms and chest while blowing up buildings.

Gabriel sharply pulled Uriel back. “Forbidden,” he growled in a warning tone.

“Sorry.” A blush crept to his cheeks.

“But yes,” Michael continued. “Lucifer would stay in Hell, and once a year, the Exterminators would be sent to eliminate citizens at random to keep the population in check. What a brilliant idea. Though, I have to admit, Samael’s blood-lust concerns me.”

An Exterminator with ragged long red hair and red eyes stabbed several demons at one with two harpoons in his hands. He burst into flames and sent a group of demons out into dark space. He conjured a silver whip and lashed several times at a green horned dark haired demon woman holding a knife and wearing a snakeskin dress. She screamed and fled, but she soon was brutally choked to death at his hands.

Raphael gulped and pondered in thought, landing a hard uppercut to a yellow demon shaped like a large worm. The creatures shrieked and plummeted down into the sky. “Wait… God sensed that Lucifer’s child had proposed redeeming sinners by creating a hotel for them to stay at.”

“Very unexpected,” Michael scoffed. “And highly ineffective, if not impossible. Why put trust in a naive demon princess, when our Exterminators can always be relied upon?”

“I don’t think it’s that clear-cut,” Raphael replied. “It’s a rather brilliant plan, especially coming from the daughter of Satan and Lilith. I think it’s the angel blood in her that makes her so innocent. God told us this a day ago.”

“Mhm, I remember,” Michael casually answered, not paying attention to the conversation.

Puriel, the angel of judgement left his post at the Heavenly Gate and appeared to them. Like Uriel, he was also dressed in white.

“Something’s not right,” he said. “That mortal turned demon over there…” he pointed down at Alastor. “No mortal has possessed that kind of power before. From the moment his soul left Earth, I sensed that he would be bad news. He’s not supposed to be here.”

“No shirt, Sherlock,” Michael replied, beheading a goat-headed demon from behind him.

“As you all may know, I am the judge of souls brought to Heaven, and I’m also a messenger and seer. Lucifer wasn’t supposed to have his power taken away. He was supposed to come up and face us and God after discovering how elitist we are about letting demons in and how we won’t hesitate to make their lives an even more living Hell.”

The other angels stared at him blankly.

Puriel sighed. “Of course only I would understand my visions and His Word. But know this…the demons Charlie, Alastor, Angel Dust, Vaggie…they all were not supposed to be possessed. They were meant to work together and help out all the sinners…much to our dismay and shock. And as for Alastor…”

Alastor’s deer-shaped ear-like tuffs perked up at the sound of his name. He slowly turned his head 360 degrees.

Puriel spoke in a voice so low, not even Alastor could pick up on it. “…His mother is here in Heaven. She is a former Voodoo/Hoodoo practitioner of color named Loretta. She introduced Alastor to the folk traditions and warned him that it had nothing to do with human sacrifices or cannibalism, or gaining power. Those were societal misconceptions…and ideals of a few truly evil Loas. Alas, he didn’t listen.”

“Loas?” Gabriel asked.

Puriel sighed. “Powerful African ancestral spirits. Go look it up on the Interweb of God. The point is, she supported him when his father and society put him down. He spiraled down into madness and it escalated when he arrived in Hell. He should’ve been redeemed like all the other demons Charlie knows.”

“But…only God knows what will happen next…or what should’ve happened next,” said Uriel.

“But, what will happen next?” asked Raphael.

Puriel took a breath. “God only gave me a reference point in the past. It took place just after Sir Pentious’ defeat by Alastor. He said that after Charlie and the others arrive at the hotel…”

Puriel was cut off by a blur of red that knocked everyone back.

The angels flapped their wings to keep themselves in the air.

“Look out!” shouted Raphael. He conjured a green shield around himself as a blast of black flames shot him backwards. Michael launched himself at the Radio Demon, his sword clashing against his staff. Metallic clanging meshed with radio static as sparks flew. The demon and angel were engrossed in a rapid duel.

“What are you supposed to be anyway, some kind of clown with swan wings?” Alastor laughed. “And why’s your halo made of barbed wire?”

“You’re one to talk, delusional dapper deer!” Michael retorted. He pointed his sword at him. “Surrender right now or face the wrath of God and eternal punishment.”

“Eternal punishment?” Alastor asked, doing air quotes. He lowered the weapon away with his fingers. “Don’t make me laugh. I lost what I had before long ago…but then I gained newfound fame by sheer will. My previous life was Hell on Earth. My current life is Heaven in Hell. So…” he made an innocent face with shining doe-eyes. “Does that mean I’ll begin a new mortal life here?”

Spittle flew from his mouth as he was punched hard in the gut from behind. Gabriel glared at him and withdrew his fist. Alastor wheezed and let himself fall forwards.

The angels dove after him in a V formation.

“You’re not gonna steal my show!” called Alastor, turning around on his back.

Grinning, Alastor shot red bolts of electricity at his assailants. The angels dodged the blasts, save for poor Puriel who got hit square in the face. His face was healed instantly by Raphael’s gentle touch. Uriel grinned slyly at him. “Wanna touch some more, in private?”

Raphael rolled his eyes.

Michael flew over and lifted a collapsed white pillar with just his hand. He threw it at Alastor, who ducked just in time.

With a swipe of his sword, Michael sent multicolored flames straight at him.

“Arrguh!” the overlord shrieked. His horns grew from his head and he brushed off the flames. He stared in disgust at his now charred outfit.

“My new suit! I just got this sewed by Niffty!”

Christian crosses made of light, clashed with dark red Voodoo symbols in the air. Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel attacked Alastor from different angles. Fists rapidly made contact as Alastor blocked the attacks with his arms. Gabriel dodged a kick to the face from Alastor’s shoe. Alastor’s antlers torn into Raphael’s robe. Black tentacles attempted to grab the angels as they appeared from portals in the sky. Michael slashed the tendrils to bits with his sword, spinning around rapidly and frightening away nearby demons down below who were fighting over a bottle of beer.

For a while, it was a stalemate. The opponents stood and faced each other.

Then, Alastor felt a touch coming from behind him. A pale hand was caressing his fluffy black and red deer tail.

“Oh my…” said Uriel. “It’s so fluffy…even more so than a cloud…”

“Uriel!” Raphael warned from above.

Alastor slowly turned his head, one of his eyes twitching. An inhuman growl erupted from his throat and suffocating dark energy surrounded him.

“No one touches me. Ever!”

His voice was low and demonic. Radio static crackled, briefly replacing the sky in flashes of red and neon colors.

In the blink of an eye, Alastor had both his hands out, nails razor sharp, buzzing with green electricity.

With scraping and squelching, Uriel’s feathery wings collapsed and fell from his back. The sharp claws hastily ripped off the attached white feathers, sending feathers and bits of flesh down in a bloody mess.

Uriel gasped in pain and promptly plummeted.

“Uriel!” cried Raphael.

His comrade scooped up the wounded perverted angel and carried him to safety.

Gabriel stared with a shocked face a second too long. A slap of tendrils sent the angel backward, crashing into the street below. He was hurt but not fatally harmed.

Alastor and Michael clashed one last time, light and darkness beams colliding in the center. The impact was so great, that a small white crack had appeared in the sky.

Michael rushed off with the other angels to call God.

Alastor peered through the crack and saw a bunch of humans walking around in a city park. A funeral was being held for a bratty kid who had died in Hell and had been returned by a group of imps. No one noticed the tear in the fabric of reality.

“Those pathetic humans and that dull world will never see what I have in store for them.”

Alastor wondered how much time had changed. Did New Orleans look different from when he was last there? Did he have any surviving relatives? He didn’t have any children, but a majority of his family had resided in New Orleans and parts of Canada.

Radio static appeared and disappeared again.

He tilted his head, somehow sensing…something else.

His thoughts were interrupted when a painfully bright light slowly grew larger and larger from the Olympus shaped palace.

Even with his powers, there was no way in Heaven or Hell he could fight Him. At least not on his own.

He let out a shrill yell and dove back into a portal to Hell. The shadow spirits and the rest of the demons retreated after him. Charlie closed the portal, flying back with severed angel heads in her hands.

Alastor turned off his radio staff and found himself falling fast. The anti-gravity spell he had used on himself and the non-flying demons had worn off. He couldn’t help but yell as he spun down, uncontrollably.

Inside a bar in Hell, a demon with a German Shepard head, wearing brown pants and an old cotton shirt was whistling as he polished his hunting rifle.

CRASH!

Alastor made a hard landing through a building, plaster falling to the floor. His head got lodged in a hole in a wall, his black antlers getting banged up. The hunter dog jumped back with a bark. Alastor shook his head and glanced around. Along the wall to his left and right were trophies of deer heads, mostly brown ones or the skulls of deer.

Alastor had accidentally knocked a deer head to the floor, his own head lodged through the brass plaque on the wall.

The dog man stared, wide eyed. Then he barked with laughter. “Holy shit! I guess I got a live one!”

Alastor swore in French. “Very funny.” For the first time, he was thankful that his radio staff was off.

He raised his hand, but the dog bit his wrist with his infected yellow teeth.

Alastor seethed and shrieked in pain. Visions of raging suffocating waves filled his head. He shook his head to clear away the frightful visions.

Rabies.

Of course it had to be rabies.

“Stay back!” the dog growled.

Alastor growled in fury, his eyes red radio dials.

BAM!

A bullet from the hunter’s riffle pierced through his head, right between the eyes.

Not again.

Ignoring the dreadful traumatic memories flooding in, Alastor slowly lifted his head back up, covering his anger with his signature smile.

Radio static pierced the air, the dog cowering and covering his ears with high pitched wines. In an instant, the dog’s head and body exploded in a gory mess which fell to the floor.

The room fell silent.

Husk looked up from his spot at the bar table, the strange grin still on his face. The other demons briefly watched, then continued on with talking and drinking.

“I’ll get it!” called the chipper voice of Niffty, who sprinted forward with a mop and a bucket.

“How embarrassing,” Alastor muttered as he freed himself from the hole and wandered back outside. He knew that the rabies and bullet wound wouldn’t affect him, as he was already dead.

At least not physically.

Emotionally, however…that was another story.

But he soon shook away those thoughts.

Thankfully, Charlie was there to comfort and compliment him after the battle.

“You did great out there,” she said. “We’re so close to conquering Heaven. I figured it’d be a challenge.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a start, at least,” he said.

“Oh no, your head…” Charlie said with concern, looking at the gushing hole.

“It’s nothing, dear!” he replied.

His cheery voice hid his exhaustion. His hands were caked with cuts and dried blood from the extensive use of his powers.

“I’m going to go rest,” he told Charlie.

“Okay, Alastor, see you when you come back.”

Alastor hopped down through a portal and into his interdimensional lair. After washing up and having leftover deer meat, he sighed as he lay down on his satin sheet bed. The droning of a radio shutting down filled the air as Alastor fell asleep with his eyes wide open.

Part 8: The Witch Doctor

Once Alastor woke up, he made his way down to his living room and sat down on a leather chair. An old rotary phone sat on the table in in front of him, the buttons white and the long phone black.

He spun the black rotary dial around with one of his long claws, clockwise, counterclockwise, then several other times. He picked up the phone from the stand, a long wire connecting it to the rest of the structure.

A disconnect signal rang through the other line, then an automated voicemail:

“Fuck you for calling Hos-Pit-Hell, Hell’s number one medical care facility. If you are in need of emergency care, please dial 9-6-1-6-1, and we’ll get to you as late as we can. Pick your medications and poisons for just 66.99 souls. Or enjoy the benefits from your health insurance program, Mediscare, Medislayed, Red Pentagram, Ackpria, etc. If you’re calling for a prescription, press one. If you’d like to speak with our specialists or providers, press two. To make an appointment and face a 50% chance of death, press three…”

A rotation and press of a button.

“Hello there,” said a monotone female demonic voice.

“Yes, this is Alastor, the Radio Demon. I just got back from a brawl with those goody-two-shoes angels and I took a bullet to my head, again. Yes, we’re all dead but we still get hurt down here.”

“Appointment?”

“Yes, I’d like to make one for five minutes from now.”

“I’m sorry, sir, we are currently at full capacity. The majority of our patients are suffering from COVID-20 and the rest of them are bodies storied in the remaining rooms, overcrowding the basement and some outside. There simply isn’t enough room. And I thought the current crisis on Earth was bad.”

Alastor growled. “I don’t care, madam, you can tell your supervisor that those bodies can be eaten to make more room…by yours truly, if necessary.”

“I am the supervisor,” she said with a screech and chomping of teeth. “And I say, there’s never enough room here…we are short-staffed, all the protective equipment has been used for a month, and not even I can keep up with all the modern demands.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes. My head hurts and my hand is metaphorically killing me. Please have a room ready for me with the witch doctor.”

“Sir, I’m afraid…”

“You and your staff are supposed to take care of your patients. If you aren’t able to do so…then not even the best doctor will be able to help you once you’re taken care of by me…”

A tense silence.

“Are we clear?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Splendid! I’ll be there soon, have a nice day!”

He hung up the phone with a loud slam.

“Ah, that satisfying slam sound never gets old.”

Alastor soon arrived at the entrance to the Hos-Pit-Hell, a hole in a cave down inside an ash-covered pit. His shoes echoed off the stone walls as he walked. Blue torches attached to the walls gave off eerie flickers of minimal light. A couple of pale white ghosts were playing poker at a small table near the damp stone wall. Alastor glanced in their direction and the spirits froze in fear.

“Boo!”

The ghosts wailed in fright and disappeared through the wall, dropping their playing cards.

Alastor clicked his tongue and continued down the vast cavernous hallway.

The offices and rooms gave off the appearance of dungeon cell doors. The metal grate doors creaked as they were opened, demon patients following their care providers inside. In one room, a demon wearing a cowboy hat was strapped to an operating table. A promiscuously dressed nurse stood beside him, wearing a red hat with an upside down white cross on it. Her skirt was short and white and her name tag read “Betty.” She held two large needles in her hands and gave a polite smile.

“I’ll be taking care of you this afternoon, Mason,” she said. “Just take a deep breath and relax…”

The demon screamed in fright as the nurse giggled.

In another room, a doctor wearing a white lab coat was examining a demon, bond in a tub of icy water.

“Maniac symptoms appear to be decreasing significantly. Brain activity slowing down, aggressiveness level diminishing. I believe this procedure is already becoming successful.”

The horned ram demon’s teeth were chattering, his eyes glazed over, brown skin blue with frostbite.

Another sign on the wall read “torture therapy.” Inside another room, demons were being painfully stretched on racks or hovered over burning coals as meditation music played. One was in a lotus position on top of a large green cactus, trying to keep still. One demon’s eyes bulged from her head as she was put through intensive shock therapy in another room.

Alastor soon made it to the front desk, a desk made from black wood held in place by demon and human skeletons huddled close together, concrete filling in the extra space.

A black and green giant leech was typing onto a computer with hairy legs and another leech was checking other demons in.

Alastor cleared his throat and the leech looked up.

“I’m here for my appointment with Aradia Bondeye Greda.”

“Waiting room is over there,” said the leech, pointing to a space with metal benches with rotting skeletons sitting on them.

Alastor sighed and snapped his fingers. The corpses and bones disintegrated into flames before vanishing in puffs of light pink smoke. One of the metal benches morphed into a red velvet chair and he sat down.

A pile of magazines and newspapers lay on a nearby table: Hellhound Monthly, the Daily Damion, 666 News, along with several paper ads for I.M.P.

He stood up and stretched.

Dark demons wearing cowboy hats and capes spoke in harsh whispers. “Is that the Radio Demon?”

“Yeah, what a psycho punk.”

“Going to the doctors, ha!” snickered the other demon. “What’d did he do to get hurt?”

“Hey, your Majesty!” said one of the demons in a mocking tone. “You call yourself a man, fucking sissy child?!”

Alastor froze, his eyes widening. The waiting room faded away in black, a vision overtaking him…

“…fucking sissy of a boy! First you don’t play sports, now you decide you’re hot for dudes, is that right?”

A light brown skinned boy, age ten, cowered in his small upstairs bedroom.

“That ain’t true, father!” he protested. “I’m not into anybody! I just dance with girls for fun…”

“Lazy dewdropper boy with nothin’ better to do than to sit at home and doze off to musicals on the radio. Ya tryin’ to be a disappointment to me and the Lord?”

“No father, I swear! I…I’ve been much better at hunting. I can almost shoot perfectly now. And I’ve contributed to the war effort. You know, handing out fliers and singing songs…”

“Not good enough!” The man’s white face turned beat red, his breath smelling of whisky. “I can see why those at school take you to be a weird sap. You’re lost in your own puny head, not giving a flyin’ horsefeather about what goes on in the real world. You bring mud into the house every day after frolicking around outside like it’s no big deal. What a disappointment.”

“Dad, I’m not a disappointment!”

A dark skinned woman’s face appeared from in the hallway, a woman with short black hair, wearing a cloth dress of red and purple, white lace around the collar.

“Louis…” she warned. “Qu’est-ce que tu fais? Laisse-le-tranquille!”

The man turned to her.

“Loretta, stay outta this!”

He slammed the wooden door in her face and locked it, ignoring her knocking and protests.

Louis glanced lustfully at a hidden picture of a blonde dapper woman in his pocket, then turned back to him.

“If you wanna live under this roof, I expect you to follow my rules. Tell me, you’re a bi-racial freak who hits on any guy he sees, is that right?”

The young boy shook his head. “No.”

“Answer the question truthfully, you liar.”

“Dad, stop!”

“Answer the god damn question, boy!”

The boy didn’t budge.

Louis walked over toward the closet, and removed a sinister-looking long black thing from around a hook.

Alastor stepped back, eyes wide in fear. “No, no, don’t!”

“Don’t you talk back to me, punk!” Louis scolded. “You deserve this after you rudely interrupted my session with Merida last night.”

He ordered the young boy to undress. The boy took off his shirt and pants with shaking arms. The black boxers were the last to go. This wasn’t the first time he had been beaten…he didn’t want the punishment to drag on.

“Thatta boy,” he nodded in approval.

The first lash struck him in the stomach, almost causing the boy to fall. A sharp, searing pain.

Lash!

The whip lashed several times against his back, emitting piercing screams from his throat.

Lash!

A strong punch to his jawbone left him wailing. He had a bad feeling that he’d wake up in the morning with several bruises.

Kicks, scratches, whips…the assaults went on, Alastor gritting his teeth against the sharp sensations. He tried to concentrate on his mother’s soothing voice from outside. He could hear her sobbing from behind the door.

“You’re a worthless sissy slut!” Louis bellowed. “Say it.”

“I…I’m a worthless sissy slut…” he looked down.

“Louder! Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Alastor stared, tears in his eyes and repeated the phrase again and again. He was utterly humiliated…a sickening feeling inside him every time he spoke those self-degrading sentences. The spanking was especially painful…his brown bottom turning red as a beet. Alastor closed his eyes and waited until it was over. He looked at his father and obeyed his commands, anxious for the torment to end.

At long last, the beatings stopped. His body ached all over, brown skin beat red.

Alastor thought it had ended…

Then his father had a crazed look in his eyes. He slowly walked over to him, a sway in his hunky hips.

“You like men, do ya?” he asked.

Alastor lied and nodded, feeling helpless.

White fingers reached down and Louis unzipped his pants.

“Well, then, for taking your punishment, I’ll give you a little reward…”

A hairy hideous cock dangling before his frightened eyes…

A horrible presence of something long, thick and foreign, pulling in and out of him from behind…

Rough calloused hands exploring light brown skin, tugging his neither regions, every touch a sickening violation.

The horrid taste of flesh and semen in his mouth, the choking and gagging worsening the experience.

An odor smell in the air…a slimy substance, sticking to him and inside him, like a liquid pathogen that could never be cleansed away. The room was abuzz with child screams of protest, clashing with low grunts and manly moans of pleasure.

He felt like a deer that had been run over and spit on.

His father’s face inches from his own…

Speaking in a bone-chilling whisper…

“…and don’t you ever spy on me with my other sheba again, ya hear me?! You tell your mama, I’ll make you both wish you’re were never born. Crying pussy…”

He stomped out of the room. Alastor brawled into his pillow for what seemed like hours. He wanted to die then and there.

Soft dark brown arms enveloped he weak form, as someone sat down on the bed beside him. A white towel was wrapped around him protectively. He knew that comforting smell of perfume and herbs anywhere.

“Je suis desole…mon fils…”

Alastor buried his face into her dress, crying some more until he was tired. Her warm hugs were soothing, her hand tenderly rubbing his back. Loretta took his hand and led him to the bathroom.

Sensing his need for privacy, she closed the door and stood guard outside.

After washing up and wiping tears away, he headed down to the kitchen, smelling something good.

Loretta spoke in English, her smile radiant and kind… “Your favorite meal, sweetheart. Thought it’d cheer you up.”

Alastor sat down and his eyes lit up. A hot colorful dish of jambalaya sat waiting for him. A mesh-up of pink shrimp, onions, green pepper slices, sausage bits and a few other vegetables. The first taste sent a fiery kick to his tongue.

“Hot sauce, of course…” she said.

Alastor chewed happily, imagining that he was eating his father’s fried fingers.

She tenderly touched her son’s cheeks, wiping away the remaining tears.

“You’re not worthless. You’re not a sissy. Don’t believe anything your father says to you. You are my son…and no matter what you do, I’ll always love you.”

“Y-you really believe that?”

“I swear by the Lord above, I do.” She planted a kiss on top of his head of brown hair.

She tenderly lifted up the corners of his mouth, a playful look on her face. Alastor’s cheeks blushed in happiness.

“Hey, don’t forget to smile, my dear. You’re never strong nor fully dressed without one!”

“Alastor…”

A low nurse’s voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned around. She had pink hair, white skin, and, strangely enough, a man’s voice. The demons who had taunted him earlier lay in bloodied indistinguishable pieces on the floor.

Much like how his father looked after he had ensured his torture and death would be excruciating.

Revenge was a dish best served raw…and he had never been as satisfied with human flesh as during that night…

“Alastor!”

He turned around. “Yes, that’s me.”

He followed the nurse through an arched doorway. After she checked his weight, listened to his chest, checked his eyes, teeth etc. she stood in the center of the small room. Alastor sat on a long hospital chair, the thin sheet covered with bloodstains. She reached up and briefly touched his furry tuffs, making him flinch.

“Looks like your ears are fine.” She touched and examined them again, emitting a growl from Alastor’s throat.

“They’re not ears.”

“Then what are they?”

“Horns…I think?”

“I thought they were deer ears. How can you demons hear without ears, anyway?”

“Cartoon logic, perhaps?! How am I supposed to know?”

The nurse finished her assessment and wrote down the results on a clipboard.

“You had any alcohol in the past week?”

“Several bottles of liquor and some dark coffee.”

“Have you ever smoked?”

“Only in my human life. I did it in nearly every building.”

“You have any allergies to any medications?”

“No.”

“Have you ever experienced any repressions or issues of sexual functioning such as…”

Her clipboard split apart down the middle and fell to the floor, Alastor holding out his finger.

“Never mind,” she said, bending down to pick it up.

“Alright, Alastor, the doctor should be with you in a moment.”

She put down the clipboard pieces on the table and held out her hand. “5,000 souls.”

Alastor’s eyes darted around, even as his smile stayed on his face. He knew that the visit would be expensive. He placed eight large dark coins in her hand.

“Not enough, sir,” she replied coldly.

“Each one is worth 800,” he coyly answered.

She shook her head, scrutinizing the coins. “I don’t think so. Give me 5,000 or consider this visit over.”

The nurse soon found herself standing waist deep in a large pile of gold coins. A rainfall of coins fell through a hole in the ceiling, landing painfully on her head of pink hair.

“Is that a satisfactory amount?” he asked.

The gold coins heated up in ember glows. The nurse flinched as the hot metal touched her bare legs. “Ow, ow ouch!”

“I can still complete my visit…can’t I?”

“Ow, yes, yes this is…ooowww… fine! Just…make it stop.”

“Swell,” he replied. He snapped his fingers and the illusion ended. There was no hole and no gold coins anywhere.

“I-I’ll let her know that you’re here,” said the nurse in a stuttering male voice. She dashed out the door, high heels clanking against the tile floor.

The door opened and in stepped the witch doctor. Her hair was long and white, and made of moving snakes with red eyes. Her eyes were blank white, but she could still see where she was going. A wooden cane tapped against the floor as she used it for support. Her skin was dark brown with a few wrinkles. She wore a cloth dress with ancient symbols stitched onto it. A bag attached to her belt had healing herbs and a few poisons in it.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite dapper deer!” she said with a smile.

“How wonderful to see you, Aradia,” Alastor smiled, touching her cheeks in greeting.

Aradia was one of the few demons who saw Alastor more than a fearsome ruler, or a casual friend. She was similar to Mimzy, Charlie and Rosie in that she could be considered his friend as well as his doctor.

But there was more to it than that…she was the only person he had to a counseling mother figure. She still had a youthful appearance in regards to her slender smooth body and soft features in her face, despite the wrinkles occasionally showing along her forehead and among the corners of her eyes.

Aradia was older too… she had been born as Sara M. Greda in the 1800s and was burned at the stake for witchcraft. Though she may have poisoned a few settlers with her herbs, she mostly used her spells and deeds for good.

“Shall I take you for a drink, later?” Alastor asked with a wink.

Aradia clicked her tongue. “Ha! No sir! You may think you’re so smooth with the ladies and any sheba you come across, but your charms won’t work on everyone. And neither will they work on me.”

Alastor glanced at his shoulder, where the nurse had poked him with a needle.

“Well…it was worth a shot.”

He laughed softly at his joke.

“Alright then,” she said. “Let’s take a look at your hand and head.”

She paced around and lifted up his clawed hand to the light. Bite marks, raw and red, stung sharply within his flesh.

“Oh dear. That’s pretty deep.” She waved her hand over the wound, being careful not to touch it. She hummed a spell and closed her eyes. The inflammation and infection slowly started to fade. Alastor let out a small sigh of relief.

“Wrap your hand in sterile wrappings and gauze.” She handed him a dark plum colored potion in a small vial. “This is a mixture of mugwort, rosemary, and…pardon my joke…deertails. Take a few sips every morning and then rinse your mouth thoroughly with water. Say this prayer to respect the healing goddess…”

She spoke a mantra in a different ancient language that somehow, he could interpret.

“And don’t forget to honor your ancestors as well. Not even a powerful man like yourself can do everything on your own.”

Nodding, Alastor took the bottle and pocketed it. His previous suit he had worn in the battle was currently being washed and tended to by Niffty. Thankfully, he had a spare one.

“Now then…about that bullet in your head…”

Alastor tried not to squirm when the witch got close. She looked right at him with her blank eyes. “I know you don’t like to be touched, but this will only be for a few minutes.”

Her soft thin hands maneuvered around his gray forehead, hovering over a round black hole with a rim of dried blood. A pair of metal pliers and a scalpel appeared in her hands. Alastor’s breathing increased, arms and head twitching in an instinctual urge to escape.

“Please hold still,” she urged.

Alastor’s shadow familiar appeared and snapped his dark fingers. Shadow tentacles wrapped tightly around his arms, chest and legs, preventing him from moving.

Alastor glared at his shadow, who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Seriously?” he snapped at his antlered counterpart.

Aradia nodded in thanks to the shadow then went back to her work. She spoke a numbing spell and Alastor soon lost feeling in his head and hand. All he could feel was suffocating, uncomfortable pressure between his eyes as the skin was pulled open. Cold metal seeped into his brain and he closed his eyes. The horrible visions of drowning came back to him…similar visions he had suffered when he was bitten as a human.

Normally he was not afraid of water, or dogs, or even hunters…but the visions made them look like gigantic titans hell-bent on eliminating every last bit of him. A deer in the headlight’s look, with only his gun and no powers for protection. Racing through a dark never-ending forest, wailing like a deranged starved beast. The moon was round and full, peering from behind the clouds. Blood…blood, was everywhere, shining on his light brown hands after a murder, staining his white and red shirt. His black bow tie was lopsided, brown hair matted in a mess. His brown hunting boots were caked with snow and mud. His brown pants torn in several places. Every light from flashlights and every shout from officers made him jump. He didn’t know where he was going, nor did he care. For the first time, he felt helpless in the dark wood. Even the trees and the wind seemed to be mocking him. Maybe he could reach his house and radio station if he was fast enough…

Inflammation burned through his head, black spots dancing across his vision. He paused, gasping for breath with his back pressed against an old oak tree. Peering in the dark, he spotted a lone buck in the snow, drinking from a pond.

With shaking hands, he aimed his rifle straight ahead, peering through the round glass attached. He maneuvered it until the four dotted cross lines were displayed on a tender area spot on the buck’s neck.

Flashing a grin, he got ready to pull the trigger…

Sharp canine teeth sunk deep into his legs. Alastor stumbled at the sudden impact… his gun flying from his hands. A German Shepard, a Rottweiler, a Labrador… all snapping and biting him with ferocious barks.

A nearby deer hunter appeared front of him like an apparition and called out, “Criminal’s over here!”

Alastor’s heart quickened at the sound of approaching footsteps…the agonizing pain from his infected hand clouding his thoughts.

Nothing else mattered to him. Through the pain, he knew he would get caught and sent to the Big House for life. The hunter was now being hunted…and the end was in sight.

Alastor briefly shook himself free from the dog’s grips, reaching forward for the hunter’s gun.

The hunter seethed. “Don’t kill me, you murderous sap bastard! Let go!”

The voices grew closer…”Alastor Cajun, you’re under arrest for murder in the first degree…”

The two men wrestled for the rifle. Alastor placed his forehead close to the two holes. Both of their hands grabbed the trigger and pressed down at the same moment.

An ear-shattering blast rang out…

The bullet struck him square between the eyes. Blood spilled out from his head and he collapsed hard onto the snow-covered ground. The dogs pounced on Alastor’s failing body. His round glasses shattered and fell to the ground.

A smile was still on his face when he brown eyes glazed over and his head flopped limply to the side. He was already gone…sent into an unfeeling world of pitch black…

“…and we’re all done,” said Aradia.

Alastor opened his eyes. The bullet shell glistened with blood between the metal pliers. Sweat dotted his face. She threw the shell into a nearby blue torch on the wall.

“Your visions should be over soon,” she said. Waving her hand again, the hole in his forehead closed up. The shadow tendrils released him, and his smiling shadow vanished.

“Thank you,” said Alastor, getting down from the chair and standing up on shaking legs.

“You’re most welcome,” she said. “I would never miss an opportunity to see my favorite patient.”

“Yeah you better not, or I’d have your guts and organs for breakfast.”

A tense silence.

“Kidding!” he said with a laugh, and Aradia laughed as well. Though she was thankful she was in his good graces.

“May Bondeye and your past loved ones be with you,” she said.

Alastor gave her a bow and a hug before going on his way.

Part 9: Error: 4th Wall Break

Charlie smiled when Alastor came back.

“Ready to head out to Heaven?” she asked.

“Not today, my dear,” he replied. He conjured up a radio and an unlucky demon got sucked inside.

A red mug of hot coffee appeared in his hand, the mug reading “#1 Radio Star” on it in red letters.

He stopped short and stared straight ahead into open space. Static crackled through the air and a glowing white crack in the air appeared. Alastor peered through the crack and saw the city park, this time at night.

It, indeed, was the human world. But somehow, Alastor sensed, another realm meshed deeper within that one.

“Is that the human world?” Charlie asked.

“Yes indeed,” he said. He nodded to Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie, all with glowing red dialed eyes. They scurried through another flaming portal nearby, slaughtering humans and throwing their mutilated bodies back through the portal. The I.M.P. jingle played in the background once the imps returned.

Charlie smiled. “Oh humans! How fun, how fascinating…”

“…and tasty,” Alastor added.

Alastor thought back to when he first saw the human world. Yes, the one in front of him would be there for the taking.

But exactly was that underlying presence hidden underneath?

Alastor grew to full demon form and stepped up to the crack. The humans scrambled away as another imp chased after them in the city.

“Hello? Anyone else out there?”

No answer.

He tapped the air in front of him several times.

“Alastor, what are you doing?” Charlie asked.

Alastor ignored her, staring straight ahead. He didn’t appear to be looking at anything in particular. He tapped the air again, claws grasping at nothing.

White glowing cracks began to appear in the invisible wall. He pounded harder in front of him, feeling a force of energy. The cracks kept spreading in a haphazard web. They expanded and branched out more and more…

“You know, using a portal would be easier,” Charlie mentioned.

Alastor ignored her again. With more fervor, he let out a demonic growl, mingled with a humming of electricity.

“Al…” Charlie spoke.

Crack.

“Al…”

Reality shifted and morphed. Colored static filled the entire space, colors flashing, matter and transparent rectangular shapes flickering in different directions. The air began to shake like an earthquake rumbling to the surface. Red Voodoo symbols hovered around him. The static increased, radio sounds grew louder, reaching a discordant peak…”

“AL!”

The invisible wall broke and collapsed on itself.

Alastor and Charlie peered through the black hole and gasped.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” he asked with a radio sounding laugh.

“What…is that?” Charlie breathed.

Alastor looked closer. “I can’t believe my eyes. I’m looking at another realm. Or rather, another mortal realm.”

Parts of her old self returning to her, Charlie waved happily. “Hello there! You’re human, right? Welcome to Hell!”

“Of course they are,” Alastor replied, turning to look at Charlie. “And fortunately, they don’t appear to be a child.”

“What gender are they?” Charlie asked. “I can’t see very well through that dark hole…”

“I could not care less about that,” Alastor replied. “Male or female, black, brown, white, whatever. As long as the mortal, or mortals, can provide me with some entertainment…it should be swell!” He absentmindedly licked his lips.

Alastor faced the front. “Oh dear, where are my manners? In case you didn’t know already, my name is Alastor. This over here, is my darling Charlie. Quite a pleasure to be meeting you.”

Charlie beamed again.

Alastor continued. “You there, on the other side…I’ve been quite bored recently. I could just share my conquests with other demons and angels and those other humans. But you know…I might as well do something fun in the meantime. How about I take you along on a tour of my domain. Free of charge! No need to be sitting in that chair or lounging around on that bed or whatever.”

“Uh, Alastor?” Charlie asked. “They’re on the other side of a screen.”

Alastor sighed. “Vox and his ridiculous TVs and tech. I’ll never understand them.”

“I heard from Vox that modern devices are sometimes called computers, iPhones, iPads, tablets, holographic things…”

“Even worse!”

“Come on, there’s nothing bad about them. You’re into technology, too you know!”

“But radios are different! They’re simple, classic and fun. It was the technology in my time. Of course I’m going to be sticking with it.”

“That technology isn’t used as much nowadays.”

Alastor shook his head. “People still use them. Those who aren’t are missing out.” He sighed. “I’ll never understand you mortals. Hey, I had trouble even understanding myself sometimes, but enough about that. You ready, mortal?”

He rapidly cut in and chuckled, “Of course you are, now let’s get going!”

Charlie gasped as Alastor stretched out his black gloved four-fingered hands, bent fingers spread out wide…

A dark demonic chuckle…

A steadfast grip and a forceful tug…

…Head and body merging through the screen, among static…

…and into the world of Hell.

Section 2

Part 10: A World of Entertainment

“Well then, welcome to Hell! Let’s get started on this little tour, shall we?”

The way back to Earth was blocked by an evil-looking black dragon, who, for some odd reason, carried a backpack with a saxophone on its back. The dragon’s eyes glowed a demonic red, like all the other inhabitants of this place.

From all sides along the street, were grinning animal-like demons of a variety of colors. Clowns, hellhounds, imps, bi-pedal goats, TV-headed demons…all with glowing red eyes. Their stares and stances meant only one thing as they scooted closer and closer…

There would be no escape.

“I can take it from here, my dear,” he mentioned to Charlie.

“Have fun!” Charlie called before wondering off back to the Hazbin Hotel.

Alastor turned to his shadow counterpart and spoke in a low voice.

“Keep an eye on her, and don’t let her out of your sight.”

The shadow let out a distorted chuckle before arching upwards and vanishing into the distance.

Alastor snapped his fingers and two large shadows spread out from his body, morphing into tall figures. Standing on either side of Alastor were two fit demon bodyguards wearing fancy suits, neckties with crisscrossed lines like that of radio towers, plus bow-ties under their chins. One had the head and large ears of a red buck, his hands that of deer hooves and large black antlers extending outwards. His suit was dark blue. The other guard had an old fashioned radio for a head. Dials encased in rectangular glass panels made up his eyes, his mouth a row of sharp metal fangs. His suit was dark red like Alastor’s, his necktie black with light red crisscross lines on it. His hands were four fingered sharp claws. He had no ears and no hair. They both looked like alternate forms of the Radio Demon.

“Oh right,” said Alastor, introducing his lackeys. “This is Cerf and this is Muse. Sometimes when me and my shadow get bored and need to conquer a more challenging territory, I summon these two to assist me. Not many people know that I have backup boys around. It took many sacrifices and blood magic for me to create these…counterparts, if you will. Look, boys, we have a new guest!”

“I’m telling you,” Cerf said with a snort to Muse. “He called me a buck-up boy! Is that all I really am to him?”

“It’s ‘back-up boy’ you stupid deer!” said Muse in a voice overlapped by static. “And I’m in the same position as you. Though I would say I have the more important role out of the two of us.”

“What do you do during the rare times he summons us?” Cerf asked. “I’ll tell you. You reside in Alastor’s head and come up with ridiculous jokes for him to use for his next broadcast.”

“Ha! At least I don’t mope around in his subconscious, trying to persuade him to “live a jolly freeing life in the world of nature.” I’m sorry good sir, but Alastor doesn’t have the longing fantasies he did as a kid.”

Cerf stomped his foot. “It’s always you and that Shadow Alastor appreciates having around. Not to mention you and your annoying transatlantic accent isn’t a good influence for him. And who am I? Just a decoy for powerful overlords to hunt after, while you get to parade around and help control his microphone!”

Muse turned to Cerf, clenching his clawed fist. “I beg your pardon, but who was it that decided to give Alastor antlers, red hair, and large deer tuft ears that may not actually be ears?!”

Cerf crossed his furry red arms. “It’s not our fault that he looks the way he does. Before this, we were part of Shadow’s group of spirits who helped transform him out of his mortal shell. Personally, I think his look suits him just fine. Heh, can you imagine how less relatable he’d be if he just had a metal head like you and Vox?”

Muse gasped with a screech. “Don’t you dare compare me with that techno-obsessed cretin!”

Cretin snickered, showing sharp fangs. “Oh wait, I just did! What are you gonna do, sing an angry song about it?”

Muse’s eyes glowed red. “Maybe I will!”

Both men growled and stared each other in their eyes.

Their fight was soon broken off by a forceful magic shove that sent both of them to the ground. Their true shadow Loa selves briefly flickered in and out.

Alastor towered over them, annoyance in his red eyes despite his smile.

“Excuse me, but I believe we have a guest to welcome on this special tour. Plus, I’ll need your help once we invade Heaven and Earth.”

They stood up on shaky legs. “He started it!” they both said at the same time, pointing their fingers.

“It doesn’t matter who started what,” Alastor replied, like a scolding parent. “I can easily send you back into myself…or perhaps a one way trip to…”

Both men gulped, waiting in tense anticipation.

“…the sun.”

“Nononono!” whimpered Muse, stepping back. The bright light and intense heat led to a painful end for any shadow being.

“W-w-we’ll behave ourselves, sir,” Cerf said with a stutter. “We are a part of you after all.”

“Yes, yes!” Muse piped up. “We deeply apologize for our behavior.”

Alastor pondered in thought. “Perhaps I’ll show you some mercy for right now…”

Both sighed in relief.

“But you both have to dance on burning coals tonight and eat my mother’s special Creole dish…”

Cerf’s red eyes widened…

“…dipped in wasabi sauce.”

They both screamed and promptly collapsed to the ground.

With a sigh, Alastor snapped his fingers and the beings vanished inside his staff, streams of darkness being sucked in before all was quiet.

“Sorry about that, mortal,” he said. “I thought I could make this tour more welcoming, but… things don’t always work out that way. Anyway, let’s move on.”

It was time to follow The Radio Demon. The overlord clad in red blended in with the crimson sky and blood-red lighting from flickering streetlamps. His black shoes revealed red deer-shaped prints on the soles with every step he took. Alastor went up a couple of steps and stopped by his throne.

“As you can see, I am now the new king of Hell. The previous one Lucifer…”

He glanced over at the broken white throne, purple snakes making up the rim and arms. Two purple snakes decorated the top part of the throne, their mouths gaping toward a ripe apple with a pentagram in the center. They were inanimate representations of the snakes that would come alive on Lucifer’s white top hat, back when he was in charge. Laying in pieces at the scaly concrete feet of the throne was a staff with a red apple on top…Lucifer’s staff.

“…well, let’s just say he got the short end of the stick when he made a deal with me.”

A brown stick appeared in his hand and then broke in half with a loud snap.

“The mighty ruler of Hell…brought to his downfall, thanks to his beloved daughter. To put my scheme in motion, I had to capture Charlie and convince her to take my side. It was one of many parts in my grand master plan. It wasn’t easy getting her to submit. First, I ensured that she would be successful in running the hotel…it was very entertaining during my visit there. I caused a little trouble, a mishap from time to time, but only to not arouse suspicion.”

Silence.

He stared for a bit, eyebrows raised. “You’re confused? Well let me explain. If I had acted like a perfect redeemed client right away, Charlie and the others would think something strange was going on. I wouldn’t be acting like myself, plus my reputation would go down. On the other hand, if I had harmed everyone there, I’d eventually just be bored again. Charlie caught my eye when I saw her on the picture show for the first time. Why miss an opportunity to…shall I say…make more friends down here, and mess around with sinners some more?”

Alastor laughed in his radio voice. “I mean, even killing demons and conquering territory does get boring after a while! What’s that saying again…”variety is the spice of life?” Yes, that’s it. Though personally, my favorite saying is “You’re never fully dressed without a smile!” It’s from the Annie musical, I highly recommend watching it.”

“Here I am, talking so long again. Let’s continue on.”

Alastor lead the way down the steps and throughout the city. He glanced over at Vaggie and Angel Dust.

Angel Dust walked over, when he noticed Alastor, his guards and the following mortal. Vaggie grinned and held up a bloody spear in her left hand.

“Hello there, human,” Angel Dust said in a static-filled Italian accent. “I was just finishing up a book on dad jokes and I must say, they are pretty funny. Might even get the attention of some buff looking guys out there.” He winked with one of his red eyes. “What did the penis say to his annoying younger brother? ‘Stop being such a dick!’”

Vaggie rolled her eyes and let out an unnatural laugh, her Salvadorian accent also distorted. “You know how cheesy those jokes are. I bet not a single demon would even want to listen to you after being on stage.”

“Here’s another one,” said Angel. “What’s an arachnid’s favorite fall drink? Apple Spider!”

Vaggie rolled her eyes again.

Angel laughed. “You’re just jealous ‘cause I’ve been here longer and I’ve had more fun.”

“Well, I have a girlfriend…when she’s not with Alastor.”

Angel crisscrossed his arms and wiggled his gloved-covered fingers. “Well I have…six amazing arms that can do all sorts of stuff. Wanna see?”

Vaggie briefly made a face of disgust. “No one wants any sort of demonstration. We still don’t know where your hands have been, and I certainly don’t wanna know!”

“Oh well, your loss.”

Vaggie waved at Alastor and hummed “You’re Never Fully Dressed.”

“May we dance, Alastor?” she asked.

“Maybe later, my dear,” Alastor responded. “I need to finish up this tour.”

“Okay, sir, see you soon!”

Alastor briefly picked her up and spun her around in the air. She smiled affectionately after Alastor lowered her and rubbed her cheeks with two of his fingers.

They both waved goodbye.

“Hehhehheh,” Alastor grinned, stopping and turning back to the front. “Don’t you just love their new personalities? As you can probably tell, they still have some of their old traits within them but with some great improvements. Angel Dust…”

He huffed in frustration.

“…well, he was a famous “adult” star in Hell and he would always be hitting on me and calling me such degrading terms.”

His eyes glowed an angry red for a split second. “I mean, ‘strawberry pimp?’ ‘Radio deer daddy?’ Absolutely revolting! I’d rather face a horde of rabid dogs than let that spider touch me anywhere.”

Alastor cleared his throat.

“Anyway, Angel was into porn and drugs and fighting any turf war that came up. I’ll admit, it was hard to keep him in line at first. At one point, I thought he would actually try and “redeem” himself with his sister and that cherry bomb lady and that delinquent slut hellhound friends of his. And yes, when you suddenly rule Hell, you get to know who else is around.”

“Alas, Angel was too deep in his pursuit of the next stimulating high. He wasn’t getting along with his father and brother. I offered to help him out, providing him with some drinks here and there. Angel took the bait, almost as easy as Husk. He began to trust me, even though I’d remind him to stay six feet away from me at all times. Eventually, after I made the deal with Charlie’s father, he fell under my spell like everyone else around here.”

Angel’s bother, Arackniss, was short and had a black furry face. He was dancing against his will on a podium by a supermarket. His father, Henroin was hanging dead from a tree, via Alastor’s doing. No abusive individuals were allowed to live.

Alastor mentioned to Vaggie.

“That darling Vaggie over there would’ve flown off the handle if I laid a hand on her beforehand.” He sighed contently. “You should’ve seen her face when she saw me and Charlie bond closer as the weeks went on. Charlie was so happy that more demons were coming to stay at the hotel. We bonded over music, dancing, and my jambalaya. Charlie didn’t notice Vaggie pouting in the corner with her arms crossed. I saw her and thought her little head might explode! Anyway, our friendship grew closer and at one point, she sobbed against the wall.”

Alastor tilted his head. “It’s true. She kept coming up with plans to kill me, but my minions from the other side always watch my back. It was so hilarious when she pleaded in tears…”

He mimicked Vaggie’s voice, “Charlie, what have you become? I keep telling you not to trust him. D-don’t you want to spend time with me, anymore?”

“Of course, Vaggie,” he said, in an imitation of Charlie’s higher pitched voice. “I really am grateful for your help. But, Alastor’s oh so charming, and he’s such a big help. I know what I’m doing.”

He spoke in his regular voice, “Oh romantic relationships…so messy and so dramatic! I know how to act in a romantic manner, but don’t let that fool you. Personally, I’m not interested in sex or romance or any of that. I feel like I’m not fully in control when someone tries to hug me or get closer to me in various ways. Oh but boy is it fun to watch other sinners go through heartbreaks and tears. Charlie and I are what you would call “affectionate friends.” It’s like my associations with Mimzy, Rosie, Niffty, Husk, and the like. We hang out, we sing, we drink, we kill people…it’s all good fun. They know not to touch me without permission. No need to worry about being tied down or dealing with intimate touching.”

He inwardly squirmed.

“Besides, I’m much too busy with my afterlife radio career. It was a big help for me in my human life as well.”

Alastor continued on. “Let’s keep going. I’d like you to meet my associates, Husk and Niffty.”

Alastor pulled open a door that led into a bar. Husk was busy serving up drinks for patrons sitting on stools. He was a black and white cat demon wearing a large red bow tie and a little black top hat between his ears. He had red wings with card suits on them. Niffty, the short hyperactive cyclops, was dusting off a pool table toward the back of the room, her magenta/red hair and pink skirt making her stand out. One of her little beds was in a round shaped unlit fireplace, similar to the one she was summoned from at the hotel.

“Ah Husker, my dear friend! So nice to see you again.”

“All the same.” Husk had an unnatural grin of sharp yellow teeth on his face. He went limp as Alastor hugged him. He was like an independent teen who surrendered to the rules and hugs of a parent.

“What can I get you, Alastor?”

“New Orleans black liquor, 1902.”

“Coming right up.”

Alastor patted a stool beside him, but not too close. “Here, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”

A faint squeaking of the stool and a slight better view of the collection of glass mugs and the bottles displayed in glass cabinets. Faint jazz music played in the background as a demon shot darts at a target in the wall. Several others played cards on a table. A lone skeletal woman held a slender cigarette in her bony fingers. A demon with a dark face and a black top hat wore a long cape and dark suit. He appeared to be talking with another demon wearing a white beak-shaped mask over his face. They, too, were under Alastor’s power.

On TV, a blonde skeletal woman was sitting at a desk, her eyes bright red. Next to her was a man wearing a suit who had with white hair and a gas mask for a face. They were Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench.

“Good afternoon, Pentagram City!” said Katie. “The weather will once again be dreary and hellish with a high of 120 degrees. Makes Phoenix, Arizona seem like paradise.”

“Even hotter than Cherri Bomb’s natural bombs!” Tom added suggestively. “Imagine trying to get my hands on those…”

“Hahahaha. Your limp noodle is so shriveled and small, not even a zombie would want a taste of it,” Katie retorted.

The crew ooohed and wolf-whistled.

“For the first time, turf wars are being shoved to the side…”

She shoved Tom Trench to the side…

“…as Hell’s denizens are being lined up to travel into a host of other dimensions, including Heaven and the mortal realm. Turf wars are turning interdimensional as angels and demons scramble to claim new territory from near and far. It’s extending even to all the Nine Circles of Hell! In case you didn’t know already, we are in the First Circle.”

The smaller screen showed demons and angels fighting in the sky, in sandstorms, and dueling with swords and spears over burning lakes and volcanoes.

“Just look at the self-proclaimed King Sir Pentious!” said Katie. “He’s fighting tooth and nail over new territory…but it appears he’s getting screwed over.”

She popped a tooth, a nail, and a screw into her mouth.

A black snake overlord threw his pinstriped wearing egg minions at an angel’s face. His eyes were red instead of their usual yellow. A black tentacle was fastened around his neck like a leash. With a slash, two angels sliced Sir Pentious’ new flying tank in half, the hunks of metal crashing to the ground. Another angel picked up the snake, wrapped him up in knots and tossed him into the fiery lake below.

“Wow, he just suffered serious burns right there,” Tom added, wincing. “He’s still cocky but perhaps not as much after his daily defeats by the one and only Radio Demon.”

“Hey, that’s me!” said Alastor, in mock surprise.

Cherri Bomb was throwing red bombs into the faces of angels and yelling out swears and jokes.

“You angels are falling down on your jobs. A bunch of swan-winged clown bitches!” Her single eye was red instead of yellow, her hair in a strawberry blonde pigtail. She wore a torn up short black dress and had bare feet instead of her usual crop top, leggings and high heels. Apparently, she had disliked her dapper dress she was forced to wear and improvised, instead. She laughed as Sir Pentious climbed out of the lake of fire, burnt and humiliated yet again.

“More coming soon after the break!” Katie added, as she threw Tom Trench against the camera screen, which cracked.

“Those two,” Alastor mentioned as he stared some more at the screen. “All they wanted was more ratings and the latest gossip. Though I find their attitudes despicably rude, they seem to enjoy being in the spotlight like me. Their ratings went sky high, but now they’re forced to tell dad jokes every session. It’s only natural that they surrendered after I was able to have better access to the picture shows. Oh and I may have invited some woman-loving animal demons into the studio to keep her company…”

Katie screeched and stood on spider legs as demons with heads of bears, snakes, and cats pestered her with cards and flowers.

“Say your next line, Katie,” said Tom.

Katie smiled tensely and dug her sharp nails into the desk. “I am a selfish animal-abusing bitch, so I may as well go and chase cats.”

The animal demons, also with hazed eyes, jeered and cheered.

Alastor barked with laughter. “Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho! That’s a swearing classic. You can guess who put that idea into her head. And no, it wasn’t my pathetic rival Vox…”

He looked over at a man with a TV for a head, slumped onto a chair. He was no longer the confident electricity wielding overlord he once was. His screen face was cracked through the middle, both his arms cut off. Red words flashed against his dark screen: “My circuits are fried!”

“Heh, I guess that song had it all wrong,” Vox mumbled in a robotic voice of defeat, “Radio killed the TV star.”

A wild purple-haired doll demon named Velvet sobbed next to him, browsing through her phone. The formerly good reviews of Vox, Valentino and Velvet had gone sour. They were no longer the powerful villainous V’s with the aim of brainwashing the entire populace with technology and erotic propaganda. The good news for Vox was the fact that those on Earth (among many secret groups in Hell) still used cell phones, TVs, and a host of devices. (Plus porn and cyber-attacks were as popular as ever among Hell’s Dark Web.) That was one thing that the Radio Demon didn’t have complete control over.

A rapid scurrying of feet approached.

“Hello there!” Niffty chirped as she rushed over to the counter and hopped onto a stool.

“Greetings, little darling!” Alastor replied, looking over to her. He scanned the room, impressed. “You really spruced up this place.”

“Yes, it didn’t take too long,” she said with pride. “I had to fix that window over there because some demon threw a red cherry-looking bomb at it. I think it was a drunken imp.”

“Well, can’t help with the crazy behaviors caused by alcohol,” Alastor mentioned with a shrug.

Husk placed a dark blue bottle in front of Alastor, who took several sips from it.

“Still as good as I remember it,” he said in a satisfied tone.

“Who’s that with you?” Husk asked, taking a sip of beer.

“Just a human I picked up from another realm.”

“Oooh, how cool!” said Niffty. “It’s always a pleasure to meet new friends. Are they a man or a woman?”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter,” Husk said. “They won’t last very long down here.”

“That’s why I’m giving them a little tour of Hell. Give them something to enjoy in case…unforeseen events should occur.”

Un-mistaken mischief flashed in his red eyes when he cast them on the human visitor.

His voice switched to a casual tone as he diverted the conversation as if nothing had happened.

“So…would any of you like to share your stories of how you got here with our guest?”

Niffty raised her hand. “Sure, I’ll start!”

Husk looked hesitant and narrowed his eyes, the smile looking plastic on his face. “I’m a private person. Why should I bucking tell it to a mortal stranger?”

“It’ll be fun,” he encouraged, playfully poking Husk in the nose. “Who wouldn’t want to hear the story of how we met and how you started helping out with the hotel?”

Husk looked off to the side, ears perking up. “No one!” he rebuffed. His eyes flickered for a fraction of second.

Alastor’s tufts twitched as well at a unique sound.

From outside an open window, Alastor could hear some singing. Charlie was dancing around in her red dapper dress, her eyes in an intermediate stage of orange, pupil almost back to normal. The shadow seemed to be dancing with her, gripping onto her shoulders and staring at her with warning in his blank eyes. Every time the shadow tried to cover her mouth, Charlie would laugh evilly and frolic out of reach. The sound of her voice seemed to spur the others around the bar.

Niffty laughed. “I’ll admit, cleaning, cooking and sewing is fun and all, but wouldn’t it be amazing if I got some actual souls someday?”

Normally, Alastor loved to hear Charlie’s beautiful voice. But now, her singing had a strange effect he had not anticipated. His eyes narrowed and he gripped his microphone staff tighter. He gazed at Charlie’s bare arms and his mouth started to drool. As much as he enjoyed Charlie’s company, his gut and stomach was sending out a very different message. An all-consuming urge came over him…he imagined Charlie’s face turning from white to blue, hands squeezing her windpipe, her musical gasps for breath. Her wide-eyed look of failure, shock, and hopelessness. Demonic pieces of flesh within his teeth, coppery sweet blood filling his mouth like nectar…

A demon with a rabbit head leaned out the window, eyes suddenly clear.

“Chaos may ensue, but hope can rise anew,” he sang along with Charlie, feet tapping along. “In the dark clouds, there’s a rainbow, pit and sky, you’re born to fly, as above, so below, you don’t know how far you can go…”

In a flash, the window slammed shut, slicing the rabbit demon’s head off like a guillotine.

Alastor leaned slightly closer to Husk and Niffty, menacing feedback emitting lightly around him like a faint scent before a storm. His smile was rigid and his unkempt yellow claws glinted in the light.

“I do advise you both to remember your roles, and your place in all of this. You may have done your parts back when I first summoned you at the hotel…but we all know that deeds in a deal never end.”

Brief panic flashed through both Niffty and Husk’s faces, neither of them making a move out of fear of their boss turning them to dust.

“Do you hear me loud and clear?”

Husk gave a curt nod after softly gulping. Niffty rapidly nodded her head. A brief sound of humming filled the space and their eyes were fully red dials once more.

“Excellent!” he said, conjuring another stool to prop his long legs on. “Now who’d like to start?”

Niffty raised her hand again. Husk sighed in defeat.

“Oh never mind, I’m just messing with you.” He playfully punched Husk who didn’t react. “I might as well tell. You two can go back to work.”

Husk and Niffty sensed it was an order.

There was a distinct sequence of all the remaining windows shutting and locking into place.

“Bye, human, it was nice meeting you!” said Niffty. “If you ever need your house cleaned up or you have some tears in your clothes, just call me and I’ll fix them up in a jiffy!” Niffty dashed off to lift vending machines to clean under them.

“Want any drinks?” Husk asked. “Costs six souls, mortal.”

A pause.

A faraway look in Alastor’s eyes as he glanced around the room, looking for anything else that might hinder his strong spell.

The cat demon shrugged and went back to drinking a mug of beer.

“Alright then, mortal,” Alastor began, “As you can tell, Niffty and Husk are some of my lovely associates. And by associates, I mean those who are bound to my will after I make deals with them. That’s why I can summon them whenever I want. Niffty is super speedy and very skillful with the little things. Husk is strong and is a good balance to Niffty’s hyperactive behavior. I try to pick my associates carefully. I don’t just make deals when it’s not in my benefit.”

“So, about those two. Niffty first appeared from a fireplace back at the hotel. Niffty was more than happy to spruce up the place and clean it up. And I’ll admit, she does make some delicious meals, too. Man, that place really needed some re-decorating. Husk came to the hotel, after I summoned him from a casino. He was reluctant to volunteer for my charity work, but it all worked out after I gave him a cheap bottle of booze.”

“Ah, Niffty, such a sweet little thing. She tends to be obsessed with men, so obviously, I was able to use my charismatic personality to win her over. I promised her a glorious life, free from the ensnaring flames, a life where she could meet all sorts of men and have her service recognized by the public. I often reward her good behavior with live voodoo animals she can play with. She also likes to eat them sometimes. We share our love of sewing and cooking so I say it’s a marvelous partnership!”

Alastor stretched his legs, then lowered them. He took several more sips of his drink.

“Husk and I actually met back when we were human. He was a fine chap, same as he is now. The last time I spoke with him then, he was talking about going off to war someday and something about familial problems. I wasn’t really concerned that much. He told me he died in the 1970s. He was grumpy and gambling his afterlife away in Hell. Gambling is unpredictable and very risky…there are better methods to cure your boredom. Of course, I offered him a good deal: work for me and receive all the drinks and cash you want. I also offered to help him find someone he could love. Heh, he feel for it, poor fool. I did give him some booze, but the piles of money were, in many ways, an illusion. He would gamble and win some, only to lose most of it the next day. Why pay him for his services, anyway? And finding someone to love? Ha! Nearly impossible in a place like this. He’d gamble, he’d steal some valuables, fight others in brawls on occasion. Redemption really is just a big hilarious joke.”

Alastor twirled his cane in his hand with a sigh of contentment.

He got up from the stool. “Shall we, human?”

He led the way back outside.

“You may be wondering why some of our main demons are wearing their regular outfits instead of the classic ones from my time. It’s simple: I’d like you to see them as how they would normally dress. A brief reminder of what life was like before…and now much better it is now.”

Along the way, Baxter and Crymini were nearby, with red dialed eyes and creepy grins.

The hellhound was Crymini. She had white fur with dozens of red spots along her arms and legs. Her hair was in a punk-rocker style, the tips bright pink. She wore a spiked collar and a dark short jacket. Her shirt was pink with a white skull on it. Her ears were pink and her eyes consisted of yellow sclera with pink irises. She was currently spraying red graffiti on a brick wall, the words reading “Alastor eats yo’ brains!” followed by a horns hand symbol.

“Ah yes, Crymini the teenage Hellhound,” Alastor said. “She’s a punk rocker, a delinquent, and from what I’ve heard, likes porn more than Angel Dust. Urgh! Never thought anyone could beat him in that department. Apparently, Loona is another hellhound who is her friend, though they tend to get into fights a lot. Blitzo from I.M.P. told me. She wanted to do her own thing with Angel Dust, Cherri Bomb, and several other hellhounds. Like many, she wanted more freedom, status, drugs, violent fun, the whole nine yards. I suggested a deal from a distance, an offer for a better life, but of course, she ignored me. Which was perfectly fine. I’m not a big fan of dogs anyway. Once Angel and the Hellhounds got possessed, it’s only natural that she would follow.”

The other demon had the head of a blue anglerfish with fins to resemble ears. His hair was dark blue with luminescent blue specks on it. Blue freckles were underneath his eyes, which had teal sclera and pink irises. He wore yellow safety goggles over his eyes. He wore a dark gray laboratory suit with yellow buttons, black boots, and black gloves on his hands. A fish esca was attached to his top hat on his head.

Baxter was rushing in and out of a room that led to an underground lab. Inside, Alastor could see vials of blue, red, green and neon liquids bubbling in flasks and cylinder tubes. Reptile-like creatures were floating in fetal positions in large tanks emitting eerie green light. Machines hummed and clanged in the small room. A few little rat demons were navigating through a maze with no way out. It was one of two labs he had, the other one underneath the Hazbin Hotel.

Baxter stopped short. “Oh, Alastor, welcome! I can’t talk now. I have to conduct this next experiment soon. I’m working on an Elixir of Death capable of making angels dead and demons immortal. Though, I haven’t quite perfected it. My captured subjects didn’t fare too well when taking it.”

He mentioned to a pile of skeletons locked in small concrete cells.

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “Why are you running around?”

“I stayed up past two doing research. I have to run to wake myself up,” he said, between breaths.

“Suit yourself.”

Baxter dashed into the room and shut the door before bonding down the stairs.

“Unpredictable fellow,” he mentioned.

“So that’s Hell’s mad scientist, Baxter,” said Alastor. “Apparently his name means ”baker,” which is ironic. From what I’ve heard, he prefers being alone and also doesn’t like being touched. He collaborates with that pathetic snake guy, an 1800’s inventor from the Industrial Revolution. From rumors I heard about him, he died on Earth on a boat, similar to the Titanic. They say he drowned after he got poisoned by one of his inventions. He was an insane inventor, helped with what was called Nazi experiments on innocent people. Prison studies, dangerous medications, shocking humans and animals, trying to use their blood to make a clone army…things like that. Apparently Baxter made A.I.s as well. Again, all that technology stuff gives me a headache. Now he mostly keeps to himself and makes robots, weapons, and poisons for our army to use against the angels.”

The tour continued on. A lone demon got too close and Alastor trapped the poor soul inside a conjured radio.

At one point, Mimzy and Rosie walked along and waved at Alastor.

The overlord Rosie was tall and skeletal, wearing a pink fancy hat with feathers and dried flowers along the top. She wore a pink dress and bore a smile of sharp teeth, her eyes red instead of the usual black.

Mimzy was a short and chubby woman with large thighs, short blonde hair, and big eyes with pink pupils and black sclera. Well…those were her eye colors before being replaced by red dials among circles of black. A headband with a pink feather was perched on her head. She wore a pink dazzling flapper dress along with a pink and purple necklace.

“Alastor!” Mimzy called. “Singing session same time tomorrow night?”

“You bet, my darling dame!” he replied.

The two women wandered away.

“Yes,” said Alastor, “Those are my dear friends, Mimzy and Rosie! Rosie used to be a harsh CEO at a sewing and clothing factory back when she was alive. Making her employees work double shifts and bathing in her victim’s blood at night. Haha! It’s so rare you kind special ladies like that. She enjoys killing and having others do her bidding, like me. She can be stern and elegant a lot of the time, but she does have a soft spot for me. We like to have fun and sing our hearts out and slice out the hearts of others while we’re at it. Good times, for sure. She owns an emporium not too far from here.”

“Mimzy loves singing, doughnuts, and jazz. She owned a jazz club back when she was alive. In fact, we both knew each other in New Orleans. She and I used to sing, dance, and drink all the time…and we still do, occasionally. She had sex with men a few times and killed her abusive husband…perhaps that’s why she ended up down here.”

He laughed out loud.

“But there was one fateful day in a bar…around the 1920’s, I believe. She wanted to be more than just friends and started getting too touchy-feely with me. I told her I wasn’t interested in going that far, but she wouldn’t listen. She…”

He glared at the mortal, clearing his throat. “You must promise not to tell another soul. The only reason why I’m telling you is…”

A pause.

“You look confused…” he remarked.

Alastor scoffed. “Nonono, it’s not because I like you, mortal, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s because you won’t get a chance to tell anyone else after I’ve ended your life! Hahahaha!”

His laugh sounded forced. “Oops, spoiler alert.”

Alastor’s face turned serious, his smile straining after several minutes. His radio voice dropped. “You see… one night at the bar, she had a little too much to drink. Before I knew what was happening, she slammed me against a wall in a dark corner and just kissed me with a wild look in her eyes. So surprising and so gross…definitely not casual friendship. Before I could get away, she gave me a crushing hug and…touched my privates down there…”

The air suddenly became cold. Hell appeared to be darker than it usually was. Alastor’s face seemed to turn a paler gray.

“Ever since my father took advantage of me…I felt… so strangely helpless. She had betrayed me and invaded my boundaries. And of course, nobody else cared. I shoved her off and took out my knife. At that point, she deduced that I was the serial killer, the “Deer Devil of New Orleans.”

“She raced toward the phone to call for help. I didn’t let her get that far. We took our fight to a dark alley nearby. I pinned her down and made several long gashes on her neck and arms. Though her screaming was pleasing to hear, I didn’t want anyone else to notice. I watched the life leave her, while squeezing her plump neck. Thankfully, I was able to carry her body back home and devour the rest of her, there.”

The Radio Demon stared forlornly at the crimson sky. “She was quite juicy and tender.”

“…and in case you’re wondering, we’ve talked about it and we’ve decided to forget the past and enjoy our afterlives here. It’s like we’re getting a second chance, albeit a bizarre one. We still hang out sometimes when we’re not busy terrorizing others or singing while looking in the mirror.”

Charlie walked over to Alastor, his shadow following close behind. Her demon dolls-turned bodyguards Razzle and Dazzle followed her, bat wings fluttering, antlers replacing their usual horns on their heads.

Alastor’s radio voice returned. “Alrighty then. Now that you know all about the current denizens of Hell around here, I’d say this tour is reaching a finale.”

“Enough is enough, Alastor!” Charlie called, horns protruding from her head, her eyes pink and flames raging around her. “You will end your rein of tyranny right now…and you will let that poor mortal go!”

“Ok then,” Alastor said in a mocking tone, holding up his hands. “The tour was over anyway. I guess I’ll just take my leave. Before I do, I have something for you, sweet Charlie.”

He tossed several objects in the air, which landed and rolled slightly by her feet. They revealed themselves after the shadows moved away. She was staring down into the green eyed, green face of her arrogant ex-boyfriend, Seviathan, and his gray skinned sister, Helsa, her rival. Or more accurately…their severed heads.

She let out an ear-piercing scream of fright and anger, reeling back. “You…you charming traitorous bastard! You killed my high school prom date!”

“I thought you loved Vaggie, or more likely, me,” Alastor mentioned. “He and Helsa hated you and your family. They thought your little redemption idea was ridiculous. Though it was fun seeing the Eldritches and your family argue, but that’s not the point. They served their purposes, they were in the way, so I disposed of them…all for you, dear.”

“I…I can’t believe this!” she cried. She wished her parents Lucifer, and Lilith were there to help her. She turned to the mortal. “Listen, you have to run and return to your own world, now! I’ll do what I can to cover you.”

Unfortunately, Alastor, his shadow, and all his minions had other ideas. Slowly all the denizens of Hell that he had introduced before, were arriving from every direction. They surrounded Charlie, Alastor, and the thrones. With grinning faces, they eagerly anticipated their master’s fight and victory.

“Well then, my dear human, it was quite a pleasure hosting this tour of Hell. Now, I’m afraid, we must say our goodbyes. I can’t have you wondering around, telling everyone about what you witnessed.”

He held out his hand, the world turning red with static and symbols hovering around.

“Make a deal to be my slave and perhaps I’ll let you live.”

The mortal didn’t shake.

The static cleared. “I see. Well, in hindsight, that was a smart choice. After all, loss of free will is an even worse fate than nonexistence. Besides, having living souls in Hell for too long…that’s a major no-no. If things were “normal,” the man up there would’ve taken you to the void and punished us all for letting mortals discover this place. Angels and demons and humans meeting together…oh what a catastrophe that would be! It may mean a rift in space-time, even an end to one of more of the realms. Now, there’s one more thing to do before every world becomes mine…”

Black tentacles glowing with red auras sprouted up from the ground around him, twitching side to side like ancient serpentine creatures. His eyes turned to red dials once more, his black antlers arching out on either side, past his head and tufts. His shadow transformed as well, turning into a shadowy wendigo beast with large claws and a sinister smile. He spoke in a low demonic voice:

“Feast on the flesh of Charlie…and you!”

Today’s Specials: Jambalaya, Venison, Charlie…and You…

Tears flowed down Charlie’s pink sclera eyes as she stared at the monster in front of her. Alastor, standing posed like a gentleman, but his grin giving him the look of a madman. His shadow towered above him, claws spread out and antlers extended in dark curves.

The man whom she had so blindly trusted to help with her hotel, who cared for no one but himself…

It was at this point that Charlie told herself the harsh undeniable truth…

The Radio Demon could never be redeemed.

Charlie shot blasts of hot blue flames that temporarily made the wendigo shadow vanish. She was careful not to let the shadow spirits get too close to her. With her horns on top of her head, fangs bared, Charlie danced gracefully as she evaded and sliced apart every black tentacle that came her way. Splatters of blood and tentacle guts stained her red tuxedo shirt, but she was too preoccupied to care. Her powers are equally matched to Alastor’s chaotic bursts of red electricity and voodoo symbols. For every voodoo deity Alastor called upon, Charlie had another deity in mind to counteract it. She had even called upon good voodoo Loas, which seemed to work the best against Alastor’s magic.

She glanced over at the helpless mortal, and a flicker of hope came to her.

Perhaps there was a way to tip this stalemate to her favor.

Charlie concentrated hard, eyes closed, speaking an ancient incantation in backwards Latin. The possessed demons on the sidelines grinned while also taking some steps back. In smooth motions, elegant black feathery wings grew from Charlie’s back, spreading out and igniting in pink flames. Pulling out a holy dagger from her belt, she spoke a few more lines before cutting her palm. Her red blood, infused with power, fell to the ground, right in the center of the fiery pentagram below her.

Charlie glanced over at the mortal. She had never seen this different kind of mortal but she had a feeling they and their kind were special all on their own.

“Inside of every demon…” Charlie began.

“…is a rainbow,” the mortal finished.

The pentagram glowed a white - blue and the flames rose up into the air. The light grew in intensity as Charlie sung a loud clear song about peace and redemption. She hoped that the demons would finally learn to appreciate her and her songs. Full of power that had previously been untapped, Charlie was in her element. In a desperate attempt to save her kingdom, she had utilized her greatest strength: the powers of music and love.

Alas, her magic powers slowly worked…but in a way she hadn’t expected. For instead of Hell’s residents enjoying her music…they had all burst into raucous laughter and shook their heads at the sheer silliness of it all.

“That was utter shit!” Katie shrieked as the red glow from her eyes vanished.

“You call that music?” retorted Crymini, the punk rock loving hellhound.

“It needs to be 100% more sultry,” Angel Dust mentioned, as his eyes turned back to black and white. “I mean, cheesy songs like that are just sad!”

Alastor stood in shock as everyone around him were breaking free from his influence. Even Lucifer and Lilith had emerged from a newly created portal that replaced the previous pentagram that Charlie had made.

Charlie’s parents lifted themselves out of the portal, seeing their daughter for the first time in a while. Having used up much of her power, the princess collapsed to her knees.

“Charlotte!” called Lucifer. He and Lilith ran over and embraced their daughter.

“Mom, Dad, you’re alive!” Charlie said, her black wings fading away.

“Your powers…” Lilith said, surprised in tears. “You unleashed your demonic and angelic abilities at the same time.”

“I…I didn’t know I could…”

Lucifer stood up and glared at Alastor. He spoke to her again. “Of course you could, it’s what we’ve taught you in your lessons. To be a ruler of Hell is to be willing to make sacrifices and show others what you’re fully capable of.”

Lilith helped Charlie stand as the portal in the ground closed.

Alastor glanced in worry, now that he was outnumbered. Although he had his powers, there were weapons the others had that could still kill him. Hiding in the shadows for long periods of time wasn’t his idea of fun…if it wasn’t a last resort, then it was cowardly for him to do so.

With everyone back to normal, the odds weren’t nearly as favorable. The spirits would not be pleased if this kept up for long.

Alastor’s shadow, Rotlasa hovered and scowled above his head like a vulture, drumming his fingers in impatience. With all the deals he had made, the drawback was in sight. Unless Alastor could keep Hell’s souls in his control…then the spirits would gladly take his own.

“I swear I have a plan,” he muttered. “Just give me one more chance to figure something out.”

“I wonder what will happen if Alastor’s powers get absorbed into us?” Cerf asked, in excitement.

“How about when?” Muse added in a radio voice. “We’ll finally be free of him and we’ll get to roam on our own!”

“No more death threats or constant replays of human memories to shift through,” Cerf added. “I kill and wreak havoc on my own terms!”

“And, I can finally take some credit and be my own radio host,” Muse mentioned. “How about I do Yo Mama jokes instead of Dad jokes? Ha! That’d be even better!”

“You have 10 seconds to beg for mercy,” Alastor warned, sharp claws out.

Muse cleared his throat. “Yo Mama so fat, Hell’s population couldn’t fit on her!” Muse and Cerf burst into laughter. Even Vaggie had to smile at that one.

“Make that 3 seconds,” he growled.

“Everyone is coming back to their senses,” Charlie breathed. The demon citizens shook their heads and talked to each other in confusion and outrage.

Charlie gasped, a final plan occurring to her. “We have to destroy Alastor’s staff!”

“We don’t have our powers,” Lucifer growled.

Charlie panted for breath, turning back to her regular form. “I can’t…too tired…”

Vaggie raced over and embraced Charlie. “I thought all was lost.”

Charlie nuzzled close to her girlfriend. “I think things will be okay,” she said.

Husk, Niffty, Angel, Vaggie, all of their friends formed a protective circle around Charlie and the royal family. Vox, Valentino, and Velvet stood off to the side.

“It’s all your fault, Alastor!” Vox bellowed in a robotic voice.

Sir Pentious hissed in anger off to the side in a pile of cracked egg minions.

Vaggie had her spear at the ready. Angel had two guns pointed at the Radio Demon. Even Husk and Niffty stood defiantly.

Charlie stood up as well.

“This…this is for us, and this is for the Happy Hotel!”

“Hazbin Hotel,” Husk corrected.

As Charlie and the others closed in on Alastor, he prepared himself to use all his powers to knock them back and escape. He knew it was impossible to make any more deals at this point.

It seemed like his conquering days were over.

Then he narrowed his eyes and saw someone at the opening to the living realm. Transparent silver wings on the person faded as they reached a hand forward, through the computer screen.

A black tentacle shot out so fast, it appeared as a dark blur to onlookers. The familiar world on earth grew farther and farther away…a forceful tug and a rapid decent back into Hell. A landing on the ground by Alastor’s black pointed shoes. Alastor towered over the mortal, his hair and head almost blending into the red sky. He peered down with curious eyes.

Bond tightly by the tentacle…slowly being raised up to a standing position…

“Change of plans,” he said. “I’m not going to kill you just yet.”

“Step away from that common mortal!” Lucifer demanded. Alastor ignored him.

“Perhaps there’s a reason why you humans aren’t allowed down here. And why did it seem that you strengthened Charlie’s little spell a moment ago?”

No answer.

“Answer me, human!” he spat before something sharp cut across his torso. He roared in pain, still keeping the mortal bond in place.

“Nice shot, Vaggie,” Charlie said, the harpoon landing on the ground.

“I meant to strike him in the heart,” Vaggie complained.

Alastor seethed and sank to his knees. Bullets from Angel’s gun hit him in the chest and head. He growled at Angel, through the smoke. There were bags under his eyes due to using up so much of his magic power. Yet, he could still feel some extra reserves coursing through his core and veins.

His staff lit up again and his eyes turned to red dials. Static and jazz music filled the air, going specifically into the mortal’s head. The world turned red as voodoo symbols floated around.

“You should feel a lightness in your head and body. As you gaze into my eyes, you’ll be relaxed and...tuned in as it were. Don’t be alarmed if you find yourself dancing and swaying a bit.”

The mortal’s arms suddenly moved against their will. A lone demon appeared from a portal in the ground, a sinner.

Alastor handed the mortal a knife. “Kill him and eat him,” he ordered.

The mortal closed their eyes, even as their hand grabbed hold of the knife handle. They dug in their feet, trying to run the other way. Their body slowly turned in the direction of the helpless demon, a small blue creature with six legs and a deer’s head. The knife appeared to be stuck in their right hand, no matter how hard they shook it in protest.

The mortal was thrust forward as if on puppet strings, jabbing the knife into the poor sinner. The demon yelped and choked before going limp.

The mortal yelled in shock and horror.

A dark blue hand was sliced off by an invisible force, flying straight into the mortal’s mouth. Coppery taste and squishy flesh. The mortal recoiled and spit it out.

Alastor grinned. “Congratulations, you’re a murdering cannibal!”

The mortal felt sick to their stomach, the spell soon lifted.

He turned to Charlie and the others. “This proves that inside of everyone, there’s a lost cause! Especially for humans!”

The other characters looked on at the mortal in disgust and pity…or at least that’s how well the illusion magic was working.

“You’re a failed experiment!” Baxter spoke.

“Not even I would want to fuck you,” Angel said.

“You idiot, letting that shitlord get a hold of you!” Vaggie yelled.

“What a shameful, evil act. How does it feel to be such a failure?” Katie asked with a laugh, as Tom joined in.

Husk lifted two middle fingers.

“You’re quite a mess,” Niffty added.

“So not cool,” Cherri Bomb added, shaking her head.

Charlie was crying. “I thought…there was goodness in you. I was going to invite you to the Hazbin Hotel, with high hopes. It breaks my heart.”

The mortal covered their ears and sank to the ground on their knees, willing for the illusions to go away.

Alastor laughed manically and snapped his fingers.

A horde of dark shadows flew from underground in newly formed cracks along the street. Others descended from portals in the air. The demons yelled and swatted them away, but there were too many to count. Electricity and fire briefly held them off, but, like the undead, they kept popping up. Overwhelmed by the animated straw dolls underfoot and the shadows in every direction, it wasn’t too long before the denizens began to get tired.

One lone imp demon was unlucky enough to get cornered by the shadow spirits. One of them appeared to be made of black straw and had small triangular horns. Drops of blood fell from Alastor’s palms. The shadow’s eyes glowed red and in an instant, it gnawed itself inside the demon. The imp screamed and thrashed as the shadow traveled through his nerves and veins. His eyes briefly turned into red dials again before they rolled back into his head. Voodoo symbols appeared on his black, white and orange body, glowing red and burning like brands. The imp’s head leaned back with a loud crack as he let out one last agonized scream. His mouth was open wide…jets of dark light and electricity escaped through his mouth, nose, and empty white eyes. The imp’s dark astral form took on a similar imp shape. The soul was immediately pounced on by nearby spirits in the air and consumed. The imp’s body fell with a thud, face first, the voodoo symbols vanishing. The spirits who had taken the imp’s soul cackled in satisfaction.

Unlike having their powers sucked into Alastor’s staff, this method resulted in the victim’s death and loss of the soul.

Several small tentacles and spirits made their way to Alastor’s torso and began to repair the gaping wound made by Vaggie’s harpoon. Muscle and nerves realigned themselves and the skin started to close. As the shadows stole more souls, Alastor’s wounds healed faster.

All the denizens fell to the ground as they tried to fight and escape. Katie Killjoy yelled as two spirits lifted her into the air, her skeletal white legs flailing.

“You filthy scum creatures!” she barked. “Take your hands off me!”

Several shadow spirits took the forms of animals: bears, wolves, and cats. They clawed and scratched at her red dress, the fabric ripping away. Even in her full demon form, she was still held in place. Tom Trench was thrown into her lap, supported by clawed limps rising up to hold the helpless duo.

“Guess I found your hotspot then?” Tom asked with a nervous laugh.

Katie slapped him across the face. “Jackass in a mask, I’ll fucking bury you alive!”

Apparently, her threat didn’t come to pass, as the shadows and tendrils attacked them some more. After their dark souls escaped from their bodies, the shadows and voodoo dolls eagerly chased after them. A still bodied sitting Vox was tied up in wires, his head screen black and cracked. Blood trailed down Alastor’s arm as he used more of his magic to appease the dark spirits. If this was a way to go, at least he’s do it on his own terms.

Husk lay sprawled against the wall, both his red wings lying down in front of him. Alastor’s shadow had mercilessly ripped them off. He held a shivering Niffty in his furry arms as more shadows came to take their souls away.

“Fuck my life,” Husk growled as the shadows closed in.

Baxter was hanging by a fishhook inserted into his mouth. He was held by the tentacles under the water, the mad scientist struggling to breathe. He, too, went limp after his soul was stolen.

Hellhounds howled in desperation as they tried to claw through fiery kennels near a burning lake. They, too fell prey to the spirits. The imps, including I.M.P. with horns cut off, created portals to earth and heaven in a red-eyed daze.

Even Lucifer and Lilith were no match for the shadows and Alastor’s power. The Radio Demon sliced off both their heads with his staff…and destroyed them using Lucifer’s destructive powers.

Mimzy and Rosie were frozen in dance poses on stage, tendrils lifting their mouths in smiles. Their bodies grew cold and stiff as the shadows arrived and claimed their prizes.

Valentino, Arackniss, and Angel’s family were wrapped up in a web of tendrils. Henroin was hanging dead from a tree. Sir Pentious was nothing but a skeleton, his black snake skin wrapped around cracked Egg Bois.

There was a series of sickening snaps as several black tentacles ripped off Angel Dust’s four arms. He coughed up blood and gasped for breath. No amount of drugs would help him escape this reality, which was soon coming to an end.

He stared with wide eyes as Alastor walked over, his wide grin present.

“You still have feelings for me now?” he asked with a laugh.

“Creepy bastard!” Angel spat. “Go suck a rotten dick and choke on strawberries. You’re missing out…on me.”

“I don’t like either of them,” he said.

“You don’t like strawberries…or me?” Angel weakly laughed. “Nice joke.”

A shadow hovered over Angel’s face… a black boot. It landed down hard on Angel’s neck. A crunch and a gargled gasp.

Alastor absent-mindedly touched the bullet hole on his forehead. “Allow me to return the favor.”

He got out a black and red shotgun and shot Angel square in the head. Shadows taking the form of anti-LGBT gang members surrounded him and ripped out his essence.

Charlie was bond and surrounded by thick black tentacles. They were wrapped around her wrists, torso and legs.

Alastor walked over to Charlie and cupped his hands on her cheeks.

“You have been quite a lovely friend and a beautiful demon belle,” he whispered, “but I’m afraid our time together has come to an end.”

He snapped his fingers and Charlie’s clothes vanished. Alastor’s shadow stared hungrily at her pale naked body. Charlie turned red in the face and struggled against his tight grip. Shadowy claws reached for her bare breasts, giving them firm squeezes. The shadow snickered. Fire spewed from Charlie’s mouth, causing the hands to squirm wildly and retreat.

Charlie’s arms were pinned to her sides from Alastor’s shadow.

“You can’t do this! Let me go! I demand you!”

Static buzzed through the air as his eyes glowed red in pleasure. But it was a different kind than that of lust. It was a crazed thrill of having captured prey at his mercy. His microphone staff lit up once again.

“Farewell, little princess.”

Sharp yellow teeth pierced through skin and sunk into her chest. Charlie’s shrill screams echoed throughout the city. Vaggie screeched as she tried to rush to her friend’s aide. Tendrils held her in place, one troublesome one snaking around her butt. Charlie’s yells and Alastor’s laughter were broadcast in every direction. The coppery smell of blood reached his nostrils; he sniffed and inhaled the scent.

“Her screams are just as musical as her voice,” he thought.

Alastor used a knife to trace crimson wet trails along her arms and thighs. Blood spilled down against white, like drips of paint on a canvas. The effect was mesmerizing to him. Killing not only was proof of his dominance, it was also his way of expressing his gruesome unique methods of creativity. This also applied when he was alive. He wanted to be known for what he did…as every victim was different, so to, were the methods Alastor used to leave his impression.

Chunks of meat and muscle were soon detached, soon entering in between his teeth and into his mouth. The flesh was tender pork, the blood juicy nectar. He ran his long tongue through the wound, anxious to lap up more blood and savor the taste.

Charlie screamed so loud, her voice soon cracked. Vaggie screamed with her, her eye red, tears flowing down her gray face. All Charlie could do for the next several minutes was to let out pained groans and will herself not to throw up. Black spots danced across her vision as more blood was lost.

“You really are sweet in so many ways, my dear,” Alastor mentioned as he slurped up warm blood and swallowed.

Charlie turned toward the direction of the Hazbin Hotel. “Help…somebody…please,” she wheezed. She extended her shaking hand, her wrist still wrapped up in black tendrils. Vaggie and Charlie reached toward each other, tendrils keeping them apart.

Shadows surrounding Vaggie took the form of anti-lesbian thugs and rapists, representing the ones who had brutally killed her when she was alive.

“V-Vaggie…” Charlie gasped. “I…”

“I love you…” Vaggie breathed. “I fucking love you with all my heart.”

“Love…you, Vaggie…nonononono!” Charlie’s voice rose in desperation.

Charlie saw Vaggie’s yellow eye one last time before she was consumed by darkness.

With a loud crunch, Alastor’s teeth soon dove into Charlie’s neck. Her yellow eyes widened, breathing in pained gasps,

Her body became paler, beginning to go limp. Voodoo symbols appeared on her body and her eyes turned red.

“Look at me,” he purred.

With the last of the tears, she stared in fear at Alastor’s red dialed eyes. Her chest felt constricted, burning and throbbing pain. Alastor’s mouth and teeth were stained red.

“I’m always…chasing rainbows,” she sang softly, clinging onto a last thread of hope.

Blackness and static overlapped her vision.

“You know you’re never fully dressed without a smile,” Alastor said in a low demonic voice.

Charlie’s eyes rolled back and she went deathly still. Alastor tore out her heart and proceeded to eat it in one gulp.

Alastor stared long and hard at her, gently placing her body on the ground. He pushed back her curly blonde hair. He cupped her face with a hand, the skin cold. Her face and eyes were devoid of life, caked with cuts and blood. Alastor looked at his yellow stained nails almost in disbelief.

She had been the last person to perish in the familiar Pentagram City in Hell. In the distance, a few Archangels flew off in the distance, searching for demons in other areas.

He had killed her.

Beautiful princess Charlie, his friend and associate. The one who could light up the room with her smile and songs. Her faith and hope for goodness had no limits. She had invited him into the hotel and created a group of outcast demons in the hope they would bond closer together.

Charlie, Angel, Husk, Niffty, even Vaggie, had accepted him while others either hated or feared him.

His smile cracked. He sank to his knees. His staff clattered to the ground, the radio cutting off, sparks flying from the damaged microphone. For the first time in forever, his smile sloped down into a frown. Watery drops spilled down with a vengeance from his eyes, all the emotions he had suppressed, crashing down like a wild wave.

Alastor’s mixed emotions sent the shadows into a frenzy. They swirled fast around him and entered into his head.

Alastor was surrounded by darkness. Distinct sounds of barking made his heart speed up, despite the illusion.

The shadows around him turned into dogs, large snarling creatures with infected teeth. A hunter stood among them, rifle aimed right at him. Trees emerged and blocked his path, forming a sort of cage.

“Do not take my soul!” he yelled. “I gave you all of Hell’s souls!”

The shadow hunter opened his eyes, which glowed red.

“You never had one to begin with. There’s still more out in Hell. You’re an utter failure, Alastor Hazbin.”

The word was used as a mocking surname. Strangely enough, the voice sounded just like his father. Goosebumps traveled down Alastor’s skin. He hadn’t expected the shadows to turn on him so unexpectedly.

A woman’s voice called out for help. “Stop!” she yelled. Dark skinned lady in a red cotton dress. A man with white skin, white suit, Christian necklace around his neck. He appeared to yell in a drunken rage and slapped her hard. She fell with a yelp against the black ground.

“Mama?” Alastor called. He ran over, but the images faded.

“It’s never enough,” said one of the shadow dogs, as they surrounded him again.

“We’re always hungry for more,” growled another dog, inching closer to Alastor.

“We Loas at your beck and call,” said a dog.

“Serving you was our purpose.”

“Was?!” he spat, indignant.

“Oh sorry, sir, it is our purpose…or is it?”

The shadow canines circled around him, barely noticeable in the black.

“I’m your master. I’ll send you into the sun for this ungrateful, uncouth behavior.”

“Yes, we both made a deal,” said Alastor’s shadow. Cerf and Muse stood on either side of his counterpart.

“We gave you magic and your ability to broadcast,” he said. “You succeeded in your purpose and desire to take over Hell and be immersed in endless entertainment. Murder and rule everyone at your will. That’s all you wanted, right?”

Alastor stood silent.

“Remember that 10% of power you gave us in exchange for your gifts?” the shadow asked. “That allowed us to travel to Hell and eventually mess around with people’s heads. Heheheh…including your own.”

“You thought you were all high and mighty up there,” said one of the dogs.

“Indeed, your confidence has made you good at making deals with others,” said the hunter.

Alastor snapped his fingers, but the illusion stayed in place. “Get to the point!”

“You should know that deals come with benefits and costs for both sides,” said Alastor’s shadow. “We shadows have dwelled in the darkness for millennia. Nothing but a passing thought to other worlds. Spreading ourselves to other realms…hoping to consume souls and envelop the skies in eternal darkness.”

“Our vengeance for our kind…and a way to fight the light,” growled the hunter.

“One avenger and trickster to another,” said a grinning shadow. “You might continue to be useful. Our king, our model, our weapon… our bait!

The dogs pounced on him, dark mouths tearing into his flesh. Alastor screamed, flailing to try and get the dogs off him.

The hunter cocked his gun and grinned. “Open Season for you, O’ Deer,” he said. “Have fun wallowing in your misery.”

A blast rang out, Alastor falling as something painful sped through his head…

Alastor woke up, flat on the ground. Hell was deathly empty, a ghetto ghost town. He glanced over.

“Mortal? You still here?” He stomped over, smile back on his face, eyes bloodshot. “It’s just you and me now in Pentagram City. It appears you’ve seen me at my weakest. Therefore, I cannot allow you to live.”

You Are What He Eats

The mortal could hear Alastor’s shoes clacking on the asphalt as he slowly made his way nearby. His antlers were extended past his head and his right eye displayed a moving red radio dial. A dark hole caked with blood peered from between his eyes. Small tentacles slithered up to his forehead and made their way inside the hole, trying to repair the wound.

His red dress coat was torn and stained with blood. His red and black hair was matted, his monocle lopsided and cracked from the battles. The mortal was surprised he didn’t collapse right then and there. His eyes showed clear signs of fatigue. The sounds of an old broken down radio emitted from his mouth and the cracked microphone staff. A few tendrils of dark power seeped from it.

“I heard that up in your world, there’s a deadly virus going on. I saw it on the picture show the other day. Perhaps I could make you blind, erase your memories and send you back up to make you sick.”

The mortal’s face said it all, they were pleading to go back.

“But then again, you’ve been a great source of entertainment for me. I mean, I’ve told you all my stories and how Hell fell into my hands. After you’re gone, I think I’ll rest for a long while before checking out the other circles of Hell.”

Alastor let out a sigh. “You know…since you’ve been so well-behaved, I think I’ll give you a…more merciful death than I had previously intended. If you’re wondering what it was, I was slowly going to crush you to death with a giant radio but, now that I think about it, that sounds boring. Unoriginal.”

Alastor sighed. “While I’m thinking about it, how about some dinner? I’ll have my shadow servants make venison and Jambalaya. Think of it as your last meal. How’s that sound?”

The mortal was silent, too sacred to even nod.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Splendid!” He clapped his hands and several horned spirits made of black straw traveled through the air, their bodies moving up and down in wave-like motions. The kitchen from the Hazbin Hotel appeared outside, the brick walls cracked on either end, outlined in green lines. The started chopping up vegetables on a cutting board, boiling a pot of water on the stove and getting a table ready. One spirit traveled through a fridge and brought out frozen deer meat.

“Leftovers are the best,” he added.

Before long, Alastor’s shadow was holding a large white plate of the gumbo cuisine: deer meat slices, pink shrimp with tails, white rice, peppers, and other vegetables. The plate was set on the table in front of the mortal.

It smelled so good that the mortal sat down and picked up a fork. “Bon appetit,” Alastor said.

The mortal said thank you and dug in as Alastor stood and watched.

Yummy mixture of tasty food in a creamy sauce…the mortal didn’t realize how hungry they were until now. Though they were worried what fate would await them, that didn’t stop them from cleaning their plate.

Alastor grinned as the mortal helped themself to seconds. The mortal turned and narrowed their eyes, glancing at the food suspiciously.

Having read their mind, Alastor mentioned, “No, don’t worry, the food’s not poisoned. If it were, well, you’d be dead already. Haha.”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I made this dish for you. I have more I’ll eat later on.”

Though they were still suspicious, they did their best to enjoy the meal in front of them. After several more mouthfuls, the mortal felt something grip the back of their neck. It felt like a clawed hand. Static filled the air and voodoo symbols hovered around. Tentacles quickly pinned the mortal down, wrapping around their waist and handcuffing their hands and feet.

Alastor’s shadow overlapped his dark hand with Alastor’s helping him channel his remaining power. “Fortunately, this kind of magic should be easy and temporary…not that I’ll need it for very long.”

Before the mortal could ask what was going on, they felt their body morphing and changing. They felt themselves moving slightly forward…seeming to fall almost. They were shrinking…could that be the reason why the mash up of food seemed to grow bigger, taking up their vision like staring at a food commercial close to a TV?

They landed softly onto the plate, the food cushioning their fall. They were now the size of a small baby, not too much bigger than the shrimp and vegetable slices around them. Their body was nude, and full of goosebumps. He had never seen shrimp, meat, or any food this close-up before. It was like looking through a microscope and seeing the details on every colorful surface.

Unfortunately, the tentacles had also shrunken with the mortal…and would not let go.

Demonic laughter rumbled from above, a bone rattling sound. The red eyed man sat down in the same seat the mortal had sat in before. He wrapped a red napkin around his neck and held a silver fork in his left hand.

He spoke in a whisper, which still sounded fairly loud.

“I believe I mentioned before that humans taste even sweeter than deer and demons. It’s one reason I kept killing my victims when I was alive. I couldn’t miss a great opportunity like this, not when all the excitement made me so hungry.”

The mortal screamed and struggled to break free. They were held in place.

“Count yourself lucky. Not everyone gets to die from me in this way. You should be thankful I’m providing you with this fatal reward.”

Alastor was surly a crazed madman. Calling this fate a rewarding way to go?

Four sharp silver prongs descended from above. The mortal bit their lip and closed their eyes…

…Only to open them and see that the fork had skewered a nearby shrimp instead. The shrimp rose up with the fork and disappeared inside the demon’s maw. He appeared to be enjoying his favorite food…or rather, all his favorite foods combined together. The fork descended again, this time landing into a chunk of red deer meat.

“This is so delicious!” he said. “Probably the best meal I’ve had in a while…maybe even since I was alive.”

The mortal cried and whimpered. With another stab, Alastor scooped up a pile of orange coated rice, a dark pink shrimp tail and a slice of red pepper. He savored every bite and took his time.

With wide eyes, the mortal realized he was dragging this out on purpose.

Alastor giggled and poked the human playfully in the stomach with his fork before moving on to lift up some sausage and rice with the fork. Red blood coated some parts of the fork and plate.

All too soon, the large white plate was nearly clean. One last scoop of food and it was empty.

Ice cold dread spread through their gut as Alastor grinned with an open mouthed smile.

“Now, the best for last.”

With sickening sounds, the sharp prongs were stabbed into the mortal’s back. They felt like thin hooks piercing through blood, nerves and muscle.

“Farewell, dear morsel…remember to smile and stay tuned.”

The screams of “Let me go!” and bellowing in pain did nothing but spur the demon further. The mortal felt themselves being lifted up and held just in front of a row of sharp yellow teeth. The teeth parted, revealing a long lavender tongue and a hole of black. His hot breath reeked of rotten flesh, coffee, liquor, and very faintly of cigarette smoke. Against their will, the human was brought closer and closer. The world briefly turned dark as sharp fangs and the flexible muscle gripped onto the mortal, pulling them in head-first. The fork prongs were removed and the mortal collapsed onto a lavender surface coated with taste buds. More blood spilled out, merging with saliva and vanishing. Chunks of muscle and flesh had been ripped off via the fangs but the mortal was too shocked and scared to care.

Saliva swept in from every direction, soaking the mortal in a watery slimy mess. The tongue moved around different areas of the mortal’s body, lapping up their scent and flavor. The mortal was then moved around throughout the cavernous mouth, sometimes against a wall of tissue, other times next to the row of closed fangs in the dark. At one point, the mortal got a close up view of the roof of the mouth. A dangling uvula tissue hung before the gaping tunnel, the esophagus down below. The process seemed to go on forever…it was to the Radio Demon’s liking. The mortal wondered why they weren’t dead then and there. Then they realized their “special” fate: Alastor was going to swallow them whole.

Not too long after, the mortal was forcefully pushed back by the tongue and toward the back of the throat. Running did no good, they were pushed back like they had been hit by a wave. The surface was too slick for any footage to grab onto. It was as fruitless as trying to escape a hole, with the ground slippery like black ice. For every moment of their hands, they would slip further back.

The mortal let out one last scream and was soon on their way down. Contracting muscles squished the mortal on all sides, helping to further the descent. The boiling pit of the upper stomach was not too far below. What would their family and friends think of when they saw the mortal missing? They certainly would never think that they had been pulled in by an all-powerful demon from a cartoon web series. They would be digested, satisfying Alastor’s appetite, and not a soul would know.

Down and down they went. Random philosophical thoughts entered their mind. They remembered the shrimp, deer, sausage, rice and various vegetables. All of them were once living breathing things. It was a stark reminder that no matter how much humans revealed in their intelligence and the belief that they were the superior species, death would always bring them together. In this case, the human, the shrimp, deer, grains and vegetables had lived their vastly different lives on Earth and were all going to the same place. It was a strange comfortable thought, knowing that though they would die, they would not go down alone.

The mortal died instantly once they made contact with the acid…it was akin to plummeting into lava.

Alastor licked his lips, his eyes glowing red with pleasure. He rubbed his belly in satisfaction before standing up. One of the shadow creatures climbed up his leg and dove into his jacket. The creature poked it’s dark head out. Alastor pat the spirit on the head and tickled it under the chin. The creature croaked affectionately before traveling up and resting on his shoulder.

“At least I still have you guys,” he said. “Well then, there’s still much more to be done. Heaven’s in chaos but still hard to get…but not for long. The imps have invaded Earth. Hmm…if there are some other circles of Hell, yes…how about we go on a little journey after my sleep and healing?”

The spirit chattered excitedly, in a dark tone. Several other spirits followed Alastor, this time willing to serve their leader.

Alastor turned his head to the side and chuckled. “I figured you all would agree.”

Part 13: Alastor Glimpses At Our World

Before long after Alastor had his rest, it wasn’t just Pentagram City that fell into his hands.

There were several other great cities in Hell, Thelema City and Levia City. In the former one, an indigo upside down cross glowed against the red sky, though the air was very polluted from nearby factories. Many of the residents of Thelema city had wings: dragons, hydras, bat demons, mosquito demons, among others. Still, there were plenty of animal-like demons, imps, and other sinners who lived there, too. The city was ruled by King Beezelbub, Lord of the Flies and a lower ruler. He had a black face, and many eyes that could see in every direction. Giant fly wings extended from his back, even as he wore a suit, top-hat and bow-tie. Once he heard of Lucifer’s defeat, he promptly surrendered after Alastor had burst into the palace with his army of shadow minions.

The city of Levia was different. It lay close to a burning ocean of fire, where large fish, ancient sharks and sea monsters lurked beneath violent waves. The demon denizens used boats to catch fish, sell them at outrageously high prices and consume them. In this city, a teal symbol glowed against the red sky, an infinity symbol with two crosses on top of another…Leviathan’s symbol.

Leviathan was another king, also lower than Lucifer but higher than Beezelbub. He had a wife, Abyzou and a prince son, Franz. This royal family had the appearance of sea monsters: sharp fangs, scaly skin of dark green, ocean blue, or black. He carried a pitchfork staff with an eel skeleton wrapped around it. Helsa, Seviathan and the rest of the Von Eldritch family were close associates with this family, rivals of the Magnes.

Leviathan and Alastor engaged in battle, but alas, Leviathan lost as well. The smart demons took refuge in Leviathan’s palace, which was partly submerged under the fiery sea. All the cities and provinces fell under the Radio Demon. Both royal families and cities perished.

It wasn’t long before Alastor was wearing a trophy necklace of several black Archangel heads. The holy harpoons and spears the Archangels were carrying were burned in a large pile, as they weren’t very effective against the angels.

Unknown by most, there were other lower Circles of Hell; the current one was the first uppermost one, closest to Heaven and Earth. The second circle was a windy desert, the third, a gloomy rain-filled filthy realm, the fourth one, a haven for gamblers and property wars, the fifth, a trade site via the River Styx, the sixth, a gothic land of death, the seventh, a land of weapons, the eighth, a world of mining and disease and finally, the icy ninth circle, closest to the Void. This was where Satan, Lucifer’s dark counterpart resided.

At least until Alastor either recruited him or destroyed him.

Sir Pentious’ hideout lay in ruins after the serpent lord’s defeat. His air ship lay in several charred pieces on the ground during their final battle. The remaining egg bois were running for their lives from hungry animated voodoo dolls with poison-tipped pins aiming toward the minions. Baxter’s labs were now covered with rocks, dirt and debris from the ground collapsing after more shadow demons and creatures burst free. The Hazbin Hotel, once grand in its haphazardly appearance was now in tatters from the Archangels and shadow spirits fighting earlier on. The stained glass windows with apples on it now lay in glass pieces of red and dark yellow. The circus tent that made up the roof was torn and no longer upright. The only thing recognizable was the lit up letters of “Hazbin” that were once on the roof.

Once the demons of Pentagram City were freed and turned on him thanks to Charlie, the crazed Radio Demon didn’t want to risk anymore chances, thus sending the spirits to finish them off. There were times when Alastor would miss the crazy times he had with Charlie, Niffty, Mimzy, Rosie, Husk and even Angel Dust. But love of power tilted to paranoia of losing his position. As he had found a way to defeat Lucifer, he had to make sure that the same thing didn’t happen to him.

Alastor had died once from dogs and a gunshot when he was human. Despite being powerful, he knew that Hell was filled with other kinds of dangers. He made sure he wouldn’t die again.

Fortunately for him, all the souls that the shadows had consumed seemed to make them more powerful. They were able to fight off several more invading Archangels, even in Heaven where the sunlight could be harmful to them. Provided they evade the angel’s spears and not get too close to God, they were fulfilling their greedy desires to wreak havoc throughout the realms. For now, he appeared to be back pulling the strings of his dark demonic army. While the shadows invaded Heaven, a horde of imps traveled to the human world to kill off more humans for Alastor and the shadows to feast on. Most humans didn’t seem to notice…they were all too frantic trying to save lives during the COVID 19 virus outbreak. One of the portals opened…showing the modern city of New Orleans. Alastor peeked through one of the portals and saw nurses wearing masks rushing patients into hospitals. A group of kids and their parents were crying against the wall, all wearing face masks. Teachers and parents were chatting though their cellphones and computer screens, boarding in their homes.

One sign made Alastor gasp out loud: it read “Mardi Gras parade and festival postponed until next year due to outbreak. Please wash your hands, wear a mask and stay home.”

“Unbelievable…” he breathed, tuffs twitching.

Jazz band were no longer playing in clubs and outside. The only music that was played came from the tiny screens of iPhones from videos. Nothing like the filling all-encompassing live music that made New Orleans so well-known in the United States. The whole city looked dead, devoid of vivid purple, green and yellow colors like in the past.

Alastor stood, shocked, but then remembered all the suffering people and grinned wider.

The world of humanity was coming to an end.

Perhaps he could add newcomer sinners to his army without worrying about powerful royal families. Stolas, the pervert owl demon would not be lonely now, especially with Blitzo to play with and thousands of people entering Hell.

Alastor nodded in approval at a sign reading “Please keep six feet apart from others around you.”

“I need to enforce that rule in Hell. If only Angel has listened.”

Alastor stepped back and the portal closed.

“This virus outbreak…what pandemonium…pure entertainment!” Alastor laughed with delight. “So many delusional protestors! Orphans, homeless folk, sick patients waiting for death to bring them home. Mortals dying right and left. Gullible humans don’t know what hits them until it’s far too late.” He never thought such an event could top the drama of the 1929 Stock Market Crash…but here it was.

The crisis briefly brought back memories of the Spanish Flu Pandemic in 1918. Back then, his mother had gotten gravely ill and passed away. At the same time, his father had molested him a second time and left him to fend for himself. He had spiraled into a period of depression, cutting, and fasting…he had snapped and later killed his father in the most painful ways possible. This was when his killing sprees began…during the Roaring Twenties.

How ironic that history has a way of repeating itself after a hundred years. Now, the 2020s age had begun. Alastor had, indeed, snapped once again, though he did not feel helpless nor sad this time.

A second life. A second chance. A second opportunity to make all his enemies perish for good.

Like the virus, Alastor was a nondiscriminatory bringer of death and destruction…

…and humanity was about to enter an even Greater Depression.

Part 14: Enter…Zoophobia Alastor?!

Vivziepop’s original Zoophobia Alastor:

“Demon Deer, Alastor is undead and powerful and never frowns.”

“Messes with other magical deer”

“Enjoys making deals and tricking mortals into service”

“Deals with spells and dark natural magic”

“Enjoys it when people try to kill him or hunt him”

“Can’t die, but enjoys pain”

“Obsessed with eating other deer”

“Takes human and deer form”

“Can take the form of others but cannot take on any other original form”

(holding up a red cloth with leaves on the front…magic show?) Quotes: “Smile, though your heart’s aching, smile, even though it’s breaking, when there are cloud sin the sky, you’ll get by.” Zoophobia Alastor

Quotes: “I believe I lost some of my brain that time…” Zoophobia Alastor after he lets himself get shot and laughs. The regular Alastor is not amused.

Quotes: “I am sorry, your highness, but I simply adore your company. May I escort you to class today?”

Classmate: “No! Get off my foot!”

Zoophobia Alastor at the Safe Haven school

“Why happy day of birth, mortal person! I hope you have a joyous day of lovely joy. Also you would not like to have my children, you see, I would eat them.” Zoophobia Alastor answering a question on Tumblr.

In deer form appears as a red and black deer with red eyes, yellow teeth and black spiral designs on his large ears. Hos hooves are red and legs and underside black.

In demon form, he has pale skin, red hypnotizing eyes and yellow teeth. He has black antlers sticking out but unlike regular Alastor, his ears are longer and black. He wears a different outfit, red boots, black pants, black dress coat with red undershirt and black upside down cross over it.

Zoophobia Alastor is created after the shadows fail to defeat all the angels, due to intense sunlight that’s too much for them to handle. To top that, Cerf and Muse long to be free and so plot with Alastor’s Shadow (the leader) to try and switch places with their master. Rotsala would become physical, Alastor would be a shadow servant and Cerf and Muse would be free. Alastor, however, overhears them (as they are a part of him and they share thoughts when they are close). Instead of berating them for betrayal, he pauses. For every obstacle lays an opportunity. Alastor decides to take their idea and morph it to his own liking.

“You transformed me into my current form…I figure transforming you would be a worthy exchange. My ally must never betray me. He must be immortal, useful, and share similar traits as me. To put it short, he must be me.”

He turns his shadow into a wendigo and combines Cerf and Muse together. To complete the transformation he offers the sacrifices that are demanded: the energies from the demon souls in the shadow spirits and three things from Alastor: his furry tail, his ear tuffs and his staff that’s a part of him.

Alastor slices off his tail and tuffs, wincing while grinning, but he is hesitant to give up his staff, still suspicious of the spirits. Without his staff, he could never broadcast his murders again.

Then he gets an idea.

To appease Rotsala, his shadow, who had longed for power and freedom, he frees him from his body and service, allowing him to roam on his own as a being with antlers and wendigo traits (but still loyal to Alastor and helps him out). This results in the other spirits being free to spread chaos without having to worry about Alastor’s threats to kill them. Alastor gets to keep his staff and Zoophobia Alastor is created. The Zoophobia Alastor spells his name as Alister to avoid confusion.

But there is another catch: if Alastor dies, so too, would his shadow and Zoophobia Alastor. (They would eventually meet their demise by the Hazbin heroes of the main timeline…99%. But…there would still be a chance for the villains to win…only time would tell in the potential sequel.) The unholy trio were now linked and could feel each other’s desires and pain, despite being equals.

For His Entertainment: Worlds Collide

(Potential sequel?)

What happens when Charlie, Alastor and the other characters meet the F.H.E. evil Alastor? Although Lucifer can destroy him, he keeps coming back. Then it hits Charlie…in order to fully defeat the darker Alastor, they must battle him in his universe…but this version of the Radio Demon has two powerful allies, his wendigo shadow and a lost shapeshifting counterpart of Alastor brought to life!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #alastor #radio demon #zoophobia

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ablackmoonrises · 4 years

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Introduction

Ok so a bit of explanation just so some of the things here would make sense to someone looking from the outside.

We are a disabled queer couple who use roleplaying and creating fanart as a means of therapy. Through our characters we get to experience emotions and express ourselves in ways we otherwise have a hard time doing.

Currently, we are doing about a million AUs and a million iterations of Sirius and Remus, meeting in different worlds just to fall in love over and over again.

In our version, the timelines, events and circumstances vary vastly, but the two characters remain largely the same in appearance and personality, albeit a bit shaped and changed by their respective histories in the given universe.

The world these stories take place in is loosely based on the wizarding world of JKR, and both the characters and the story have been altered to a point of non-recognition. This is a choice we made because through these characters we are telling our own stories, dealing with issues that are relevant or parallel to our own life challenges, and because we don't necessarily want to cater to any particular audience other than ourselves.

A word of warning. Since we are a couple and sexual intimacy is part of our relationship, this is also somewhat true to our characters. There will be explicit sex scenes in both our writings and visual art, and even though Tumblr doesn't allow this type of content anymore, we are going to link to images and stories that do contain explicitly sexual content. We are going to attempt to appropriately tag all sexual content, but we won't remove posts or stop posting these. Please, be advised.

--------------------------

Sirius is strong, firm, reassuring, a well-meaning buffoon, a bit thick in the head and thick in the ass. He is haunted by his family's legacy and in some worlds, the loss of his brother. Sometimes a pervert, sometimes a sex worker, often a queer biker wet dream... He's funny, and charming if you can see past the absolute cluelessness and the speak-first-think-never attitude. He might pretend that he's all that but deep down he's convinced that he's just not Good Enough for Perfect-Beautiful Remus. He's a lovesick puppy but he can pack a hard bite. He's the first to jump to catch Remus and hold him, steady him, ground him and help him come back from the edge of a breakdown, but more often than not, he's also the one that ends up crying on his boyfriend's lap.

He's a natural top, although he definitely is bottom-curious (albeit massively embarrassed about it). People assumes he sleeps around but in fact in most worlds he's a total virgin.

Visually, he's a gorgeous hunk with a dark complexion, ethnically ambiguous, but certain features of him point to native American origins. He has long hair, dark eyes, a hawk nose and a mass of tattoos, mostly commemorating his fellow marauders.

Remus is a quintessential cinnamon bun. He's a ball of guilt and angst, but he also carries himself with immense dignity and he's proud to a point of self-destruction. He wants to be seen and recognised and held and taken care of, but at the same time he's unable to receive the love and compassion of his peers... Except, maybe, for Sirius. He cares deeply about the injustice of the world, he's bookish and brooding, with stormy moods and fancies. He has a tendency to always jump to the worst conclusions, which can barely be balanced by Sirius' easy-going always look on the bright side-attitude. He has terrible self-esteem issues and he's given up on any chance of romantic connection due to his condition... That is, until he hasn't.

Secretly, Remus is a huge perv with very particular, very kinky fantasies, he's a power bottom who doesn't shy away from shamelessly going for what he wants. He's openly gay and a huge proponent of transparent communication, which is definitely definitely needed to compensate for Sirius' utter inability to verbalise feelings or desires.

Visually, he's the opposite of Sirius. He has a slight build and a frail frame. He's pale-skinned, brown-eyed, freckled and lean. He also has long hair, originally auburn, but by his early twenties, he's gone completely grey.

-----------------------

About the world.

Generally speaking, most of the stories take place in the characters' late teens and twenties. Regardless of the specific AU, we've established a world where neither Voldemort nor Harry has ever happened, and instead the story focuses on the characters' personal development, life events, etc. Furthermore, the Marauders include Lily as well, while Peter slowly drifts away from the group by the end of their time in Hogwarts. They don't part on bad terms, but they mutually let the friendship fade away.

Further Characters:

James Potter - he's a black transman with ADHD and a family who just doesn't have it in them to really care about him. It's not that they disapprove of him as much as they are just too busy making the family fortune.

Lily Evans (Potter) - a spunky redhead punk with a huge heart. She started dating James before he came out and helped him through the rough of transitioning. She is an amazing friend and a vicious advocate for social justice and equality. Her family is overly supportive, almost annoyingly so, and while they can be overly enthusiastic and miss the beat sometimes, they have also taken care of James as if he was their own son.

In some of the dark AUs James and Lily plan to have a baby and undergo fertility treatments, but Lily miscarries the baby.

Severa Snape - Zhe is a non-binary nerd with a beautiful redemption arc behind hir back. Zhe started out as a pure-blood supremacist but later came around and today zhe is a strong ally to the marginalised minorities. Regardless, Sirius hates hir and he can't get past some of their earlier confrontations over Severa's treatment of James and Regulus, while he's also deeply ashamed of his own treatment of hir.

Regulus Black - They are a gorgeous sunshine child with a larger than life personality. Originally planning to become a professional dancer, their life comes tumbling down when an accident leaves them in a wheelchair. Instead of crashing and burning though, Regulus decides to channel their energy into finding another artistic pursuit and showing the world how nothing can ever bring them down.

In some of the dark AUs Regulus dies in the accident that crippled them.

#character intro #world intro #death //#sex //#readme #long post #severe injuries //#miscarriage //#racism //

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nagala · 4 years

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(*37 Languages Available* - Other languages below/Otros idiomas a continuación/Autres langues ci-dessous/Kontinye anba a pou lòt lang yo/لغات أخرى أدناه/下面的其他语言/Outros idiomas abaixo/Altre lingue di seguito/नीचे अन्य भाषाएँ/Другие языки ниже/Andere Sprachen weiter unten/以下の他の言語/Άλλες γλώσσες παρακάτω/Các ngôn ngữ khác dưới đây/ภาษาอื่น ๆ ด้านล่าง/다른 언어에 대해서는 아래에서 계속하십시오/Andra språk nedan/Andre sprog nedenfor/Další jazyky níže/زبانهای دیگر در زیر/Bahasa lain di bawah ini/Други езици по-долу/Andere talen hieronder/Egyéb nyelvek alább/სხვა ენები ქვემოთ/Ďalšie jazyky nižšie/Andre språk nedenfor/Alte limbi de mai jos/Iba pang mga wika sa ibaba/Inne języki poniżej/其他語言如下/Інші мови нижче/Diğer diller aşağıda/دیگر زبانوں کے ذیل میں./שפות אחרות מתחת/নীচের অন্য ভাষায়/खाली इतर भाषा)

This is knowledge I have gained on my life path that I would want to know if I were in someone else's position:

The Morning Glory Teaching (https://archive.org/details/themgteaching) has been sent out in print and digital form to college offices, corporate offices, government offices internationally in Syria, Algeria, Canada, India, Japan, China, Haiti, The Democratic Republic of Congo, Cameroon, Ivory Coast, France, The United Kingdom, Colombia, Venezuela, Argentina, Chile, Peru, Bolivia, Guatemala, Belize, Mexico, the USA et cetera.

This is not a threat, but a cosmological teaching. There is danger in the unknown. There is danger after you die if you don't have a clear plan. Imagine the shock. Imagine the disorientation. Moment by moment what will it be like as your mind transpires at death? Once you die, how long will you be "dead" for? There is danger in the unknown! And it is those who meticulously plan who are successful. So then meditate and pray, do not delay! You will have long lasting and profound regret if you do not heed what I say. It is equally uncertain as to whether you might die this month as it is that you might die ten years from now. Then attend to this warning: Meditate and pray, do not delay! Do not continue along in any under-prepared way. Ask 100 times each night, for 100 nights for guidance. Say aloud, as you lay down to sleep: "Ancient saints, give me wisdom in my dreams to understand the afterlife." Isn't this most reasonable? In my dreams, I learned of angels of a higher heaven that can know anything. And they showed me that every emotion you cause another being to feel, you will be forced to know the same - by higher means in time. We will all be judged. Is this fair? Question the angels. If you are subject to their authority, then what do they owe you?

Anyone with a bad will shall be overcome by the light. Time, a natural reality is the supreme ruler of all and wisdom is its offspring. Teaching shall end all war and suffering - Yet never forget the importance of survival and self-defense. Violence is only good where it is necessary to defend things of good influence. What is the intrinsic effect of what we do? Consider Astronomy and reincarnation! See clearly: The sun that shines in the daytime sky screams something - silently, and we all have judgement systems and record systems in our societies. The Sun and all the mysteries of existence scream, there is far more than we know. And you must be judged before you can be reborn, so be a hero of old in every way! Live by the golden rule always, or have eternal regret! No one can escape infinite time. Infinite time stands before us all, and nirvana is positive 1, whereas depression is negative 1. Those who seek are never lost! Stone-solid medicine ways will bring you to nirvana. So purify! Every bite of food is a pill. Every thought is a radiation treatment. Anything that can be broken can be restored, but consult the heavens in all your affairs. Your amount of knowledge of herbalism and healing in all its forms is that which gates you off from nirvana. And those who seek are never lost! And no soul cannot learn through time, thus a great renaissance is inevitable! But consider Astronomy and rebirth: See clearly, You must be judged before you can be reborn, so be a hero of old in every way! Spread goodness always! Live by the golden rule always, or have eternal regret! If you aren't smiling with true joy, and singing from your heart every single day, then you are in a hell, and it is year zero for you, until you are in nirvana. Nirvana is positive 1 and depression is negative 1. And those who seek are never lost! Astronomy and reincarnation? With the time and resources you have, what are you responsible for? Those who are successful are they who plan meticulously! You will have profound and long lasting regret if you do not heed what I say: Live by the golden rule, and pray 100 times each night, for 100 nights for dreams of understanding. Because there is danger in the unknown. There is danger after you die if you don't have a clear plan. Imagine the shock. Imagine the disorientation. Moment by moment what will it be like? Seek to understand, logically test and seek from many origins of thought so you are sure you aren't being deceived. Just keep praying if you don't know what a dream means. The heavens live, you will learn! We will all be judged. Unless one is living by the golden rule, they are not a rational advisor. The heavens live! The Morning Glory teaching can end all war and suffering. Tell your friends! I wish you the most ideal, and it is those who are successful who meticulously plan. Those who seek are never lost!

The "Words Are Life-or-Death" Teaching:

"When a name is spoken aloud, a soul is associated and confined to the room where it is spoken. This cognitively alters the perception of the listener to dream of that which has been referenced differently, forevermore. The use of language to associate names with things can close off possibilities and open possibilities for the listener. Do you have the certainty that all of the statements and gestures you make are influencing others according to the consideration of the Morning Glory Teaching for the 7th generation to come and beyond? (See "The Morning Glory Teaching" by Benjamin Carrel d'Haiti at https://archive.org/details/themgteaching)

If a speaker would only at least basically exert their afforded available powers to connect a person to the fact that Cannabis Indica, and Cannabis Sativa have been used successfully to remove cancers of various types, then the listener could be forevermore saved from death by cancer. However, if one says something bad about a plant, then the listener may have no possibility of engaging with it for medicinal purposes, and never be able to be saved from death because of the mental barrier. Thus, the human voice has a life-or-death bearing quality.

Consider the next 7 generations to come (wherein those who seek are never lost!), consider the Morning Glory Teaching, and consider how each name or word you speak defines, confines and profoundly alters the relationship between your listeners and their environment, for they and their associates for 7 generations to come. The use of the voice has potentially deadly consequences, and potentially utopian consequences. For example, the statement "The Morning Glory Teaching can end all War" may open up a compelling new interest in the listener to openly study a worldview that can lead to the end of violence, undue suppression, and cruelty everywhere. This would be an exertion of power towards a truer, happier world." Considering this, verily words are life-or-death.

(1) This is knowledge I have gained on my life path that I would want to know if I were in someone else's position:

You are within the "Hands of the Universe." If one doesn't live a secure, illumined, and compassionate life then they will eventually not have friendship, respect, happiness nor love. The Law of Karma says that one should always be orderly, just, harmonious, and fair, otherwise they will inherit despair and misery as a result of their disharmonious choices. Consider what you inspire in all your actions and inactions.

One should be perfectly fair in all their ways and live according to the Golden Rule, considering that truthfully 200 years from now ones soul can endure the despair of torment as an inheritance for malicious Karma done in the present. Live ready for every emotion you cause another being to feel to return to you - by higher means in time or you will have eternal regret. Consider where your soul will be 200 years from now! You are within the "hands of the universe," and it is not the other way around.

- Nagala Omeken

(2) In Buddhism, the "Four Noble Truths" are (The Truths that are noble to share). The Truths are:

1.) Suffering is a part of life.

2.) Disharmonious choices made by the ancestors and antecedents before this time caused the suffering that we endure. We crave for happiness and the pain is immense.

3.) Our suffering shall end. The depression of life is not everlasting. And we need to consciously choose to renounce the way of perpetuating suffering for ourselves and others.

4.) The way to end our suffering is to become enlightened. Enlightened is another word for immensely wise. Through wisdom we can save ourselves from suffering. Read The Morning Glory Teaching (freely available) at https://archive.org/details/themgteaching Furthermore, one must purify to be well. Read A Seeker's Herbal (freely available) at https://archive.org/details/aseekersherbal2

(3) There is an ancient proverb: "No joy, no joy." - The sum of all your experience precipitates your mood. Everyone needs pleasure so that they can be uplifted and inspired to persist through the struggles of life. Pleasure heals and vivifies. If one has no sensory pleasures then they are subject to the degradation of their volition. But if one can enjoy sensory pleasures they are subject to revitalization of the will to persist. So let the saints have joy!

(4) The Noble Eightfold Path is described by Buddhists as the path leading to the end of suffering.

The eight Buddhist practices in the Noble Eightfold Path are: right view, right resolve, right speech, right conduct, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right samadhi ('meditative absorption or union').

(5) Samyutta Nikaya 56.31 Simsapa Sutta (Simsapa Passage) of The Handful of Leaves:

Once Siddhartha Gautama Buddha (may peace be upon, and long life to he) was staying at Kosambi in the Simsapa forest. Then, picking up a few Simsapa leaves with his hand, he asked the monks, "How do you construe this, monks: Which are more numerous, the few Simsapa leaves in my hand or those overhead in the Simsapa forest?" - "The leaves in the hand of Gautama Buddha are few in number, lord. Those overhead in the forest are far more numerous." - "In the same way, monks, those things that I have known with direct knowledge but have not taught are far more numerous than what I have taught. And why haven't I taught them? Because they are not connected with the goal, do not relate to the rudiments of the saintly life, and do not lead to disenchantment (from delusion), to dispassion (from addiction), to cessation (from struggle), to calm, to direct knowledge, to self-awakening, to Unbinding (from suffering). That is why I have not taught them.

"And what have I taught?... This is the path of practice leading to the cessation of stress': This is what I have taught. And why have I taught these things? Because they are connected with the goal, relate to the rudiments of the saintly life, and lead to disenchantment (from delusion), to dispassion (from addiction), to cessation (from struggle), to calm, to direct knowledge, to self-awakening, to Unbinding (from suffering). This is why I have taught them.

(6) Sufism is called Taṣawwuf (Arabic: التَّصَوُّف‎), Practitioners of Sufism have been referred to as "Sufis" (from صُوفِيّ‎, ṣūfiyy / ṣūfī).

(7) Tazkiah (Arabic: تزكية‎) is a Sufi term alluding to "tazkiyah al-nafs" meaning "sanctification" or "purification of the lesser self". This refers to the process of transforming the "nafs" (carnal self or desires) from the deplorable state of vain self-centrality through various spiritual stages towards a perfect level of purity and merging with the Will of the divine.

(8) Dhikr (Arabic: ذِكْر‎) literally means "remembrance, reminder, mention, utterance, or chant". They are Sufi devotional acts, in which phrases or prayers are repeated. It can be counted on a set of prayer beads (Misbaha مِسْبَحَة) or through the fingers of the hand. It plays a central role in Sufism. A person who recites the Dhikr is called a ḏākir (ذَاكِر).

(9) Walī (Arabic: ولي‎, plural ʾawliyāʾ أولياء) is an Arabic word whose literal meanings include "custodian", "protector", "helper", and "friend." In the vernacular, it is most commonly used by Sufi monks to indicate a saint, otherwise referred to by the more literal "friend of the divine." In the traditional mystic understanding of saints, the saint is portrayed as someone "marked by special divine favor ... and divinity", and who is specifically "chosen by the heavens and endowed with exceptional gifts, such as the ability to work miracles."

(10) Barakah (Arabic: بركة‎ "blessing") is a blessing power, a kind of continuity of spiritual presence that begins with the divine and flows through that and those closest to the divine. Baraka is a prominent concept in Sufism. It pervades Sufi texts, beliefs, practices, and spirituality. Sufism emphasizes the importance of inner knowledge and the spiritual union with the divine through the heart. Baraka symbolizes the connection between the divine and the seeker through the heavens' direct and intentional blessing of those that are most reflective of the teachings. Baraka is not a state, it is a flow of blessings and grace. It flows from the divine to those that are closest to the divine. Those that have received baraka are thought to have the abilities to perform miracles (karamat).

(11) In Sufism, Karamat (Arabic: کرامات‎ , pl. of کرامة karāmah, lit. generosity, high-mindedness) refers to supernatural wonders performed by saints. In the technical vocabulary of Sufiism, the singular form karama has a sense similar to charism, a favor or spiritual gift freely bestowed by the divine. The marvels ascribed to Sufi saints have included supernatural physical abilities, having extreme longevity and abundant energy, healing the sick, predicting of the future, and "interpreting the secrets of hearts."

(12) Khalwa (Arabic, also khalwat; lit., "solitude") has several meanings in Sufism. It is mainly the process of total self-abandonment in desire for the Divine Presence.

(13) Kashf (Arabic: كشف‎) "unveiling" is a Sufi concept dealing with knowledge of the heart rather than of the intellect. Kashf describes the state of experiencing a personal divine awakening after ascending through spiritual struggles, and uncovering the heart (a spiritual faculty) in order to allow divine truths to pour into it. Kashf is etymologically related to mukashafa “disclosure”/“divine irradiation of the essence”, which connotes “gaining familiarity with things unseen behind the veils”. For those who have purified their hearts, and who come to know Divine Names and Attributes to the fullest of their individual capacities, the veils in front of the purely spiritual realms are opened slightly, and they begin to gain familiarity with the unseen. In Sufism, an even further capacity exists by which the Divine mysteries become readily apparent to the seeker through the light of knowledge of the Divine. This is called "tajalli" "manifestation".

(14) In Sufism, the Uwaisī Silsila (chain of transmission) is a form of spiritual transmission. Uwaisi Transmission occurs when the spirits of saintly believers (saliheen, awliya) meet in the world called `alam al-arwaah (the world of spirits) which is beyond `alam al-ajsam (the material plane). Whoever takes knowledge through spirituality from a master in `alam al-arwaah is called "Uwaisi".

To share this message is to share a precious gift of wisdom for the benefit of all souls.

(For more information, and to find this document online, visit https://archive.org/details/themgteaching)

(In goodwill!)

As of writing, about 70 years ago I wouldn’t be able to peacefully sit and have a coffee with over 90 percent of the people I know – because of my color. Many said, over and over, to those heroes of activists of the last few generations: “things will never change,” but they have: think about Barack Obama! He was a mulatto like me, and he became the PRESIDENT! So believe that the world system can change to clean energy, to clean business, to clean life, towards ultimately a complete permacultural heaven! Anything that goes against this inevitable shift is blindness to the fact that the world will always change.

There are always good souls out there working to make a better world, despite how things may look hellish.

For you,

You should know that the amount of care and love for you is greater than that which you experience. There are many beings who would nourish, clothe, shelter, and care for you beyond what you have, yet they sadly don't have the means to do it. There is more love for you than you know.

Think about that! :)

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rockhoochie · 6 years

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All In

THIS WORK IS FOR PERSONS 18 YEARS AND OLDER.

Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean (No Wincest)

WC: ~8,000

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit sexual content, explicit language, dom/sub undertones, dom!Sam, sub!Reader, name-calling, unprotected sex (wrap it up, peeps!) dirty filthy smut, and a teensy bit of fluff.

Summary: Y/N has been riding with the Winchesters for months, falling for both Sam and Dean. Among the twinkling lights of Las Vegas, she uncovers a secret they’ve been keeping from her - one that may change all of their lives in a way she could never imagine.

Y/N Submit: Interactive Fics (What is this?)

Author’s Notes: Whew, this escalated quickly! Written for the wonderful @squirrel-moose-winchester ‘s 1K Make it Dirty Gif Challenge. My gif is embedded in the text. This is the first threesome I’ve ever written, so...well, I hope I did okay! I love your comments and reblogs, so if you enjoyed this please let me know! Special thanks to my beta - my husband. And as always, thank YOU so much for reading!

**My work is not to be copied, altered, or shared to other sites without my express written permission**

We’d finally rolled into Vegas in the late afternoon. After three weeks on the Rugaru hunt from hell, all three of us were beyond ready for a break. Thanks to Sam and his newly acquired platinum card, he splurged on a beautiful two-room suite. Compared to our usual accommodations it felt foreign, almost too luxurious and self-indulgent. But hell, if we didn’t deserve it.

Sam and Dean settled into the room with two queen beds, letting me have the king room to myself - along with it’s attached, private bathroom that included a whirlpool tub. The only quid-pro-quo was that I let Dean use it at least once.

After stuffing ourselves at the hotel buffet we each went our separate ways. Sam had tried to talk me into going hiking with him at some nature preserve, while Dean rambled something about Baby needing a new set of rims and wanting someone to blow on his dice. Insisting that neither activity interested me, I told them I was just going to hang out by the hotel pool.

I lied.

I really needed to get away from the two of them for a while, and I needed to be alone.

After shutting the door to my room, I flopped down on the soft, pillow-top mattress with a moan that would rival any porn star’s.

Sam and Dean Winchester crashed into my life nearly a year ago, after rescuing my careless ass from the throes of a witch’s curse. I had been taken miles from my current hideout and my ever faithful but piece of crap car, with nothing but the clothes on my back and about two bucks in my pocket. They took me to the bunker, set me up with some gear and a couple of new credit cards, and let me recover from the powerful spell that had nearly killed me. The night before I’d planned to be on my way, a solid lead on a werewolf pack they’d been tracking came in, and I’d offered to lend them an extra pair of hands.

It turned out that the three of us made an impeccable team, taking out the pack in record time with minimal damage to ourselves. Soon after, case after case seemed to find us, as though the universe didn’t want to allow me to part ways with them. And amidst all the dirt, blood, and fire we left in our wake, a loving friendship grew fast and strong between us.

I felt more at home with them that I ever had anywhere. Unlike the other hunters I'd known, they never underestimated me, knowing I could hold my own but never failing to hold me up when I needed them to. They had faith in my strengths and reinforced my weaknesses, all the while being ever the gentlemen. Weeks flew by, quickly building into months; months that earned me a comfortable place in the Impala’s back seat, my own room at the bunker and an insistent invitation to join them in Vegas.

All served up by two of the most gorgeous hunters ever to salt and burn their way across this earth.

Living and hunting with Sam and Dean had become delectable torture. The two of them unknowingly branded the most indecent, lecherous fantasies into my brain, reigniting a sex drive had been shelved once I’d started hunting. The more time we spent together - on the road, sharing close quarters, in small towns and seedy bars, or engrossed in late night research sessions - the more my imagination went wild. There were mornings - too many mornings - that I struggled to look them in the eye after what I’d done with one or both of them in my dreams.

And it was getting harder and harder to push the thoughts away. Every day I spent with them filled me with more desire than I’d ever felt in my life.

There was Sam, with his hazel eyes that switched their dominant shade to match whatever color flannel he wore, with his sweet smile and gentle laugh, those sharp cheekbones, long fingers, and hard, chiseled body…the several times I’d seen him working out shirtless had me sprinting to my room and my hand sliding straight into my pants.

There was Dean, with his sense of humor, those crinkles that formed on the corners of his forest green eyes any time he grinned with his uncannily perfect lips, freckles that adorably dusted his nose, his bowed legs and firm, broad chest…everything he did, from the way he devoured a bacon cheeseburger to the way his muscles strained when he worked on Baby, left me wet and aching.

God, what I wanted them to do to me...things I never imagined that I would want or find pleasure in. To let my guard down, to be at their mercy and obey any sinful command they issued...a single night of that, and I would die a happy woman. Maybe it was because they made me feel safe. Protected, yet respected. I trusted them with my life - I would trust them implicitly with my body.

But I knew it could never happen, with either of them. On the off chance something ever did transpire with one of them, I knew I’d still be wistfully attracted to the other. I’d long ago given up on trying to decide which man I wanted more, so I let myself get lost envisioning the three of us twisted together. Since nothing would ever come of it, what was the harm in a little X-rated daydreaming? I knew we loved one another, but I had fallen in love with them, and I was sure neither Sam or Dean saw me in the same light. Playful flirting aside, we were just three hunters who couldn’t possibly maintain normal relationships. But that was this life. Saving people, hunting things...it was a lonely business when it came to finding love.

So, I resigned myself into letting out my pent-up frustrations on subpar one-night stands whenever I had the rare chance, which always left me less than satisfied. More often, I settled for burning through batteries and putting myself in danger of developing a nasty case of trigger finger.

Our last hunt had almost killed me. Smack in the middle of Northwest Nowhere, there had only been one motel with one available room. At least there had been two beds, and at least we were comfortable enough to take turns sharing. But the nights either of them was next to me - Dean’s leathery, oaky scent taunting me, his warmth just out of my reach... the way Sam would sleep curled on his side, creating a space that seemed made for me to be nestled in... I had nearly gone insane. One shot of whiskey away from opening my mouth and making a huge mistake.

Which is why I desperately needed to go out tonight. After weeks on the road with the world’s finest embodiments of walking sex, I needed to get laid.

No, I needed to get fucked. Hard.

Hopefully somewhere in the swarm of Las Vegas inhabitants and tourists I could find a decent guy to sate me for a while. Someone tall and built, someone kind and funny and smart. A girl can dream, right?

Before parting ways, the three of us had planned to meet back up in the room, grab a late dinner at a restaurant with actual linen tablecloths, then head out to a club. Neither Sam or Dean had seemed too keen on the club idea, but instantly changed their tune after I suggested just going out on my own. I knew it was involuntary, protective instinct on their part - and honestly, it kind of turned me on - but hopefully after a few drinks, they’d each find themselves a distraction and leave me to my own devices.

Rolling off the bed, I called the front desk and had them send up a bottle of merlot. There had been a time, years ago, when all I would drink was wine. I could barely remember the last time I had it, since whiskey in all its forms is a vital part of a hunter’s toolkit. Fresh out of Bactine for the gash that Wraith gave you? Pour some Johnny Walker on it. Need to anesthetize yourself to dig a bullet out of your flesh? Nothing does it quite like six shots of Jack Daniels. Need to calm yourself after seeing a Winchester walk out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel? Jim Beam to the rescue.

‘Hunter’s Helper’ indeed.

A knock on the door signaled my alcohol delivery. The room service attendant, a pretty Indonesian woman about my age and height, greeted me with my bottle, two glasses, and a smile. I let her in to open the wine and pour it into the delicate glasses, filling them halfway while we exchanged pleasantries. Once she left, I unceremoniously dumped one into the other, grabbed the bottle, and sipped on my nearly overflowing glass as I made my way into the bathroom.

Placing my drink on the vanity, I sat on the side of the tub and turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature and letting the water flow over my fingers for a moment. Then I stripped out of my road-worn clothes, tossing them in a pile in the corner. Glass in hand, I stood and sipped, naked, waiting for the bath to fill. The wine was already sending a pleasant flush through me as I watched the steam rise. Jesus, how long had it been since I had a bath and not a shower? Maybe Dean could figure out how to put a tub in the shower room at the bunker...

That one little thought shot straight to my core, and now all I could picture was him, his brother and I in a slick, bubbly bath together...hot and wet, Sam’s lips trailing along my neck, his hand cupping and teasing one breast while Dean's mouth attended to the other, his fingers on a slow but steady course to reach between my legs…

Fuck.

I gulped down the rest of my merlot, poured myself a refill, and shut the faucet off. Setting the jet timer to 20 minutes, I slid into the tub, placing my glass on the ledge with a heavy sigh. Apparently even getting away from them was useless. For a brief moment, I considered letting the pulsing water beat against something other than my stiff muscles.

Instead, I decided to stave it off, in hopes of actual human contact. If I did manage to find a decent guy tonight, I almost pitied him - I was so worked up and tense, craving the weight of a body on me so badly that it would probably be over in ten minutes.

I let myself relax, forcing the thoughts of being wedged between two slippery Winchesters out by mentally reciting random incantations and spells for practice as I finished my wine.

The timer seemed to click off much too quickly, bringing the swirling bathwater to a stop. But between the heat and the wine, I was flushed red hot and a little lightheaded. I pulled myself out of the tub slowly, wrapping one of the plush towels around me and headed back to my bed. I turned the air conditioning up higher, letting the frigid breeze dry up the sweat that rolled down my cheeks.

Drowsiness dug its claws into me, drawing out a heavy yawn as I dug through my bag. I’d get dressed up later - for now, my ‘hoping-to-get-some-tonight’ underwear was all I needed. It was my one set of anything remotely resembling lingerie I had - after all, no need to be sexy while dripping in Ghoul goo or decapitating vampires. It was simple, a lacy, white cotton bra with thin black straps that sported a little black bow between the cups, and matching cheeky panties with a twin ribbon at the top. Unpretentious and not at all racy, but as I put them on I found myself feeling a little sexy for a change, unable to help myself from wondering if Sam and Dean would approve.

God, I needed sleep.

Eyeing the soft, complimentary bathrobe hanging in my closet, I wrapped it around me, then flung myself back on the bed. The clock on the nightstand read 5:02pm. I had a few hours before they’d get back and slipping into unconsciousness seemed like the best way to shut my brain off. Wrapping my arms around a spare pillow, I burrowed my face in it, breathing in the faint scent of lavender. This hotel was spoiling me. Within minutes, I was fast asleep.

I woke to the murmur of Sam’s and Dean’s voices outside my bedroom door. A little groggy from the wine and nap, I peered at the clock. Shit, it was after eight already. Why didn’t they wake me up? Maybe they tried and I was so out they didn’t want to bother me? After a full body stretch, I swung my legs over the bed and shuffled to the door. I could hear that they were in the middle of what seemed to be a lively conversation, and when I heard my name, I slowed my stride. Curiosity got the best of me, so I leaned close to the door and eavesdropped.

“...going out to a club with her, I don’t know.”

“What’s the big deal? Look, we can't hold her back from living her own life.”

“I don’t think I can stomach watching all these Vegas douchebags hit on her. The dicks she picks up - none of ‘em are good enough for her.”

Holy shit, they don’t think I’m here.

“She has to watch you hit on girls all the time, Dean. Bartenders...waitresses...Gas n’ Sip clerks...morticians...librari-”

“Not lately she hasn’t! I can hardly even look at other women anymore. And none of the guys she gets gives her what she wants. I hear ‘em leaving her room after two hours...or less.”

“How do you know what she wants? Has she actually told you her sexual fantasies?”

“Not exactly...kinda borrowed her laptop one night, after she went to bed. She forgot to close a couple of tabs and…”

“And?”

Oh god, no... please not…

“Chick gettin' spanked, tied up a little bit...callin’ the guy ‘Sir’, begging him to get her off with a -”

“Okay, okay, got it. Look, just because she likes watching it doesn't necessarily mean she likes to actually do that stuff.”

Too bad that Rugaru didn’t get me, because I am going to die from embarrassment anyway.

“Right. That's why you watch the same shit, because you only like to see it, not do it. Maybe she watches it because she wants to try it.”

“What else was she watching?”

“Two guys...one girl...”

“Really? Huh...”

Shit. Shit, shit shit. I’m going to have to move out. I can never look at these two again.

“I mean, a woman like Y/N... she needs to be treated right.”

“All right. What would you have to offer her that any other guy wouldn't?”

“How about the best night of her goddamn life?”

What?

“Wow, you’ve got a pretty high opinion of yourself.”

“Well, ever see a girl leave my room after an hour? Or yours for that matter? Doubt that she can act out her fantasies with random townies. Better to try that stuff out with someone you trust.”

“And I suppose you think you’d be the perfect guy for her.”

“Either one of us would be. Ah come on, Sammy, you love her as much as I do, I know you still think about it. Y/N’s a fuckin’ knockout.”

“Of course I love her, but we work with her. Hey, we’ve talked about this, it’s better for all of us to just to let it go. So no, I haven’t even thought about -”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“‘Excuse me?”

“You still moan her name in your sleep!”

“Well at least I’m doing it unconsciously!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sorry, has she been showering with you lately, or is your hand’s name ‘Y/N’? You’d better keep it down or we might lose her.”

Oh my god. Am I really hearing this? Sam and Dean think about me this way? Want me? Love me?

“What can I say? She's smokin’ hot, sassy, smart as hell and a damn good hunter. All I know is I’m not sure what I wouldn't give for just one night with her. And I know you’re still thinking the same thing. “

“You don't know what I'm thinking”.

“Come on, man. You're thinking about wrapping that tie you're wearing around her wrists and smacking her beautiful, perfect ass while I'm busy licking every inch of her body.”

“Dude!”

“Jesus, sleeping next to her in that shitty motel...I almost said something, Sammy. You know, maybe we should just lay it all out, let her know how we feel.”

This is a joke. They know I’m here and they’re playing an evil practical joke on me and I’m going to kick both their asses six ways from Sunday...

“Dean, this...this is so not normal.”

“Name one damn thing about our life that is! We don’t get normal - never will. Plus, we’ve shared before...that chick in Dayton, that stripper in St. Louis -”

I’m dreaming. I’m still in that bed, drunk from half a bottle of wine and I’m dreaming.

“Yeah, but that was just...sex. This is Y/N.”

“Exactly. She needs us, and dammit Sam... we need her, and you know it. I say we go all in.”

“I don’t know...do you really think she’d be okay with it? I mean, what if she freaks out and runs, thinks she’s been living with a couple of psychopaths?”

“We are psychopaths...this line of work... And at least we’d know. I can’t hold out much longer, man. One of these days I’m gonna open my dumb mouth and it’s just gonna come out.”

“So what are we supposed to do?”

“You should ask her.”

“Me? Why me? You’re the one with the god-awful pickup lines that surprisingly seem to work.”

”I just think she’d rather hear it from you.”

“I can’t just ask her flat out, ‘hey, wanna have a threesome’!”

“Well...one of us needs to do it or it ain’t ever gonna happen... Come on.”

“Dean, you can’t be serious...”

“As a heart attack. Let’s go, two outta three.”

“Fine.”

Sam and Dean Winchester were in love with me.

Sam and Dean Winchester were playing Rock-Paper-Scissors to decide who was going to ask if they could both fuck me.

I’d heard enough.

“You know I can hear you both,” I shouted through the door.

Then I pushed it open.

There they were, both sitting on the sofa in their Fed suits, hands readied for their next round of roshambo. Sam swept his head in my direction, eyebrows raising in surprise as Dean quickly came to the realization that they were both busted.

Sam cleared his throat loudly and stood up. “Hey, Y/N… we were just...we thought you were still down by the pool and... we, uh...you still need some time to get dressed?” He was beet red, nervously running a hand through his chestnut hair.

My lips curved in a smile. “Unless I didn’t hear the two of you correctly, I don’t need to bother.”

Dean leaned back against the couch. “Y/N/N... exactly how much did you hear?”

Sam sat back down as I walked slowly toward them. Apprehension kept me from confessing everything that I’d heard them say. It felt too good to be true and I didn’t trust it yet.

“Let’s see...something about a threesome and the best night of my life?”

For all the talking they had been doing just moments before, they seemed to be at a loss for words. I folded my arms across my chest.

“Well?” I quipped playfully.

“Y/N, we’re so sorry,” Sam stammered. “We just...we didn’t think you were here and we were…it’s not...shit...” He bent his head forward, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Guys, I’m not mad. Not one bit.”

Dean grinned like a Cheshire cat as Sam looked back up at me with surprise.

“Really?”

I could feel myself blush as I nodded my head ‘yes’, fiddling with the tie on my robe. “So, what’s happens now?”

They both glanced at each other, speaking in that silent way that was always indiscernible to me but crystalline clear between them.

Dean patted the empty space on the cushion between him and his brother. “Why don’t you have a seat, sweetheart?”

I settled between them, my pulse pounding, straining to keep my composure and not throw myself at both of them right then and there.

Dean brushed a finger across my temple, pushing away a few strands of my hair. “So you’d really be okay with this? This is something you’d want?”

I turned to Sam, resting my hand on his knee. “It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

His hand covered mine and gently squeezed. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“No. But you two have?”

“A few times.”

Dean was running his hand up and down my arm, keeping uncharacteristically quiet.

“How about the things you like to watch?” Sam continued. “Being...dominated a little? Is that what you really like?”

Plush lips ghosted against my ear as the hand stroking my arm moved to my leg, still over the fabric of my bathrobe, gently massaging from my knee to the middle of my thigh.

“The thought of it, watching it... I wouldn’t mind trying it for myself. Do you like to do it?”

“To a point. But we don’t have to do that tonight- we can just keep it vanilla if-”

“Oh hell no, Winchester,” I winked, melting into Dean’s touch, “I’m all in.”

Sam grinned. “Okay. We’ll start slow. But at any time, any time at all, if you don’t like something, just say ‘no’ or ‘stop’ and we’ll move on. Is that okay?”

My eyes were fluttering shut as Dean’s caress became stronger, my head reeling at the thought of what was coming.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” Sam asked softly.

“Yeah, I heard. I say no, you stop.”

“One other thing. Dean and I, we kind of have...an arrangement when we do this. We’ll both be in this, but...well, I call the shots.”

I looked into Sam’s eyes and was met with an intensity I’d never seen before - not on a hunt, not after a kill, not from a win...it was unadulterated, predatory lust.

“Meaning?”

A wicked grin stretched across his lips. “Dean,” he said, “stop touching her.”

Immediately, Dean lifted his hand and pulled himself away.

Sam cupped my face in his hands, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “It means, Y/N, that I’m in charge and you both do what I say when I say it. Dean gets leeway, but not you. Do you understand?”

I could feel myself trembling, excitement and arousal and the thrill of exploring uncharted territory with the two men I loved coursing through every cell in my body. All I could manage was a nod.

Sam tutted with disapproval, tipping my chin upwards. “Rule one, Y/N/N, I ask you a question, you answer with your words.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes Sam, I understand.”

“Rule two, you don’t get to call me Sam. You call me Sir, Daddy, or Master. Your choice. And that,” he said pointing to his brother, “is Dean. Only ‘Dean’. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he hummed, burying his nose in my hair, his lips ghosting along my neck. “And besides Y/N, what should we call you?”

“I liked you calling me a good girl.”

“Okay. Is there anything else you’d like to be called?”

“Whatever you and Dean want to call me, Sir.”

“Are you sure?” Sam took my face in his hands, leaning in, barely brushing his lips against mine. His massive hand slid up the back of my neck, gripping a fistful of hair but not pulling, the buzz of his low, seductive voice vibrating against my lips. “We’ll call you a good girl, Y/N, but what if we call you a naughty little whore? What happens if I call you my slut or Dean calls you his fucktoy? Would that be okay, princess?”

“Yes Sir, all of it,” I breathed, waiting for Sam’s mouth to fully claim mine, ready for the deep, probing kiss I had only been able to dream about until now.

“All right then,” he said, pulling away. “Now how about you stand up for us?”

Biting back a huff of disappointment I complied, lifting myself off the couch. Both brothers were smirking, Sam with one foot propped up on his knee, fingers steepled against his lips. Dean leaned back and loosened his tie, legs open, displaying the impressive bulge between them.

“Dean, where should we start with her?”

“I think she should take off that robe and let us see what we’ve been missing all this time.”

“Take it off, Y/N.”

I tugged at the already loose knot, gasping as the robe opened and the cool air of the room hit my bare skin. I shrugged it completely off, letting it fall to the floor.

“Damn, sweetheart,” Dean rasped.

“Very nice Y/N. Now turn around. Let us have a good look at you.

Pivoting, I turned my back to them, craning my neck over my shoulder to see their reactions.

“You were right, Dean. She does have a perfect ass. I can’t wait until she misbehaves and I get to spank it.”

I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my lips as wondered how the hell I was still standing.

“Christ baby girl, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

“Y/N,” Sam said, “Thank Dean for the nice compliment.”

“Thank you, Dean,” I purred. “And thank you, Sir.”

“Behaving so well already. Turn back around.”

I turned again to directly meet their stares. Sam leaned back, and I could see his prominent erection twitching under the fabric of his pants. Dean already had his hand on his, dragging his palm against himself.

“Y/N, I want you to sit next to Dean.”

Dean’s arm wrapped around my shoulders as I sat as close to him as possible, placing my hand on his thigh. His hand floated from between his legs to my lace-shielded breasts, his lips attaching to my neck as he kneaded and teased each one. My head fell back with a moan when his hand traveled downwards, my hips rocking back and forth in anticipation of being touched where I needed it the most.

“Hmm, someone’s eager,” he mumbled against my neck.

“Dean, please…Sir, can Dean touch me?”

“He is touching you, princess.”

“Need more,” I whimpered as Dean’s finger trailed just under the waistline of my panties.

“She does,” Dean husked, placing his warm hand against the fabric of my covered sex. “Can already feel how wet she is for us.” My body jerked with a gasp as he pressed against the wetness that was beginning to seep through my underwear.

Sam shifted his position, giving himself a better angle to watch his brother tease me. “All right. Go ahead.”

Dean finally slipped his calloused hand under my panties, dragging his finger just along my slit.

“Christ, she’s fucking soaked.” He sunk into my entrance, pumping a few times before tracing my folds and circling my clit. I gripped his knee hard, letting out a moan.

“I want to see it,” Sam ordered, rising from the couch and seating himself on the cocktail table directly in front of Dean and me. “Get those panties off of her and give them to me. Then Y/N, spread those legs nice and wide so I can watch Dean play with you.”

I raised my hips as Dean pulled my underwear off of me, sliding them over my feet and tossing them to his brother. Sam caught them, feeling the damp material between his fingers as Dean slipped and crooked two fingers inside me, the heel of his hand pressing against my clit, my hips rocking hard against his hand. A sudden rush of heat coursed through me, quickly igniting into a whirling blaze.

“Wow Y/N, you are excited,” Sam marveled, raising my panties to his face and taking a deep breath. “And you smell absolutely amazing...we’ll definitely have to get a taste. How does she feel?

“Fuckin’ perfect. So warm and wet...nice and tight...this sweet little pussy’s gonna take our cocks so good…”

The way they were using me and the things they were saying, the audible heaviness of Sam's breathing and Dean's touch, and the simple fact that this was actually happening crashed over me like a rogue wave.

“Dean, fuck!” I yelped, my orgasm surging through me without warning, my walls pulsing around Dean’s fingers as I slammed against his hand harder.

He worked me through it, his head nuzzled against my neck until I relaxed, closing my eyes as I caught my breath.

“Uh oh,” he chuckled.

I let my eyes flutter open to see Sam's boring into mine, his lips pursed and jaw set firm, fingers tapping against the tabletop.

“Needy little whore, coming so fast...I'll let it go just this once, since you didn't give me time to tell you the last rule.” Sam leaned forward, cupping my chin in his hand. “You tell us if you're about to come, and you ask for permission to come. You do not come unless I say you can. Even if it's Dean's fingers, tongue or cock inside you, you ask me. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes, Sir. I’m sorry Sir.”

“Don’t let it happen again. Now give him a kiss and thank him for getting you off.”

Dean reached for me and pulled me into his lap so I was straddling him. He didn’t give me time to open my mouth for anything other than the bruising kiss he delivered. Finally, finally feeling his tongue slide against mine was glorious - from the way he tasted to the way he cradled my head in his hand, how the other splayed against the small of my back, pressing me closer into him. I all but disappeared into the kiss, coherent thought an impossibility, grinding against his hard, covered cock. Dean released my lips and kissed down my jawline, under my chin, making his way to my collarbone. Flushed and panting, I tilted my head back to give his soft, perfect lips better access.

I was snapped back into reality when I felt a hot, hard smack on my ass. Then both of Sam’s large hands curled over my shoulders.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he rumbled.

“Thank you, Dean,” I uttered, unable to stop myself from sliding along his hard length. “Thank you for making me come.”

Dean flashed a wolfish smile. “There’s our good girl. Did you like it, sweetheart? Me making you come while Sam watched?”

Sparks of arousal were igniting through me as I continued to rock against him. “Yes, Dean.”

He replied with a grunt, jerking his hips upwards, watching my bare pussy drag against him. “Feel how fucking hard I am for you, Y/N? Oh, just wait till I get this inside you...”

“Enough,” Sam said. “We’re moving this to your room. Dean, get that bra off of her first.”

His thick fingers made quick work of unhooking the clasps and removing the white cotton from my body. In a flash, I was lifted off the couch, saddled in Dean’s arms as he followed his brother to my room. Sam stood on one side of the bed, shrugging off his suit jacket and unraveling his tie. Dean stood with me opposite him, shooting his brother a look.

“Middle of the bed,” Sam directed.

Dean set me down gently, making sure my head was propped up on the pillows before getting to work on removing his own coat and tie. Sam was unbuttoning his shirt, strolling over to the foot of the bed while his eyes raked over my naked body.

“Knees up, legs open, Y/N,” Sam commanded, completely removing his shirt. “My turn to play with that pretty pussy.”

Despite how weak they felt, I managed to lift my knees. Keeping my feet flat against the mattress, I widened the space between them as much as I could.

Anyone outside looking in may have thought I was being demeaned, objectified, employed as nothing but a sexual plaything for two men to take advantage of. But I knew it meant I truly held the authority. By doing everything they wanted, they gave me everything I needed. I wasn’t being degraded, I was being worshipped.

And I loved every single, sinful second of it.

A shaky sigh floated from my throat as I watched a shirtless Sam Winchester begin to unfasten his belt. Even the slight flex of his muscles as he made his minimal movements set my every nerve ending afire. I kneaded one of my breasts, pinching my nipple as he pulled his belt off, feeling a flood of wetness gather in my core.

Sam shook his head, folding his belt in half, the buckle clinking. “Y/N, there's no need to touch yourself. That's what we're here for, isn't it Dean?”

“Got that right,” Dean muttered, sliding next to me. He was already undressed, his thick hard cock pressing against my hip.

Sam tapped the length of leather against his palm. “Unless you're an impatient little slut who can't get enough from the two of us?”

I let my hand fall to the side, brushing right against Dean’s erection. “No, Sir.”

“There’s our girl,” Dean murmured, replacing my hand with his, rolling the stiff, pink peak of my nipple between his thumb and finger. “We’ve got you.”

His words were muffled as he took my neglected breast into his mouth, every stroke of his tongue and little nip from his teeth pumping jolts of electricity through every vein in my body. He rocked against me, the warm precome dripping from his cock slicking my skin. I took hold of him, feeling him pulse in my hand as I stroked him slowly, drawing out quiet growls that vibrated against my breast.

The bed sank as Sam crawled on, kneeling, each of his hands running over my thighs. I let out a groan as I felt my own wetness trickle between my legs.

“Just came not five minutes ago and she’s dripping wet already,” Sam hummed. “I think we have our work cut out for us, Dean.” My grip on Dean’s cock tightened as Sam licked, kissed and nipped at the skin of my inner thighs, deliberately avoiding my aching, sodden core. I writhed against the mattress, my clit throbbing, begging for attention as small, desperate sounds tumbled from my lips.

I nearly screamed when Sam finally dipped his tongue inside of me, lapping up my juices at a maddeningly slow pace. The fingers of my free hand laced through his long hair, gripping the back of his head and pushing him against me.

“Oh, fuck, Sam, yes!” I shouted, not giving a shit if the entire hotel heard me.

Sam firmly wrapped his long fingers around my wrist and pulled away.

Dean released my breast from his mouth and turned my face toward his. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” he chided, low and wickedly. “You were being so good, why’d you gotta go and misbehave?”

“Dean, move. Now.” Sam commanded. This time he grasped broth of my wrists, sliding up my body until his nose was touching mine. “What did I tell you, princess? What did I say you call me?”

“Sir. I’m sorry Sir, please…” I whined, nearly languishing from the loss of Dean’s skin against mine, my body wound so tight and desperate for release that it was nearly painful. “Need you both so fucking bad…”

I was flipped over onto my stomach so fast the room spun. Sam delivered a firm slap to each cheek of my ass, the sting making my insides quiver as I let out a wanton wail.

“Do you like this, Y/N?” Sam growled, “because this is what happens to bad, greedy little whores when they forget the rules.”

“Yes, Sir...yes…” I mewled. Two more smacks and I bit my lip hard, afraid I might come any second.

“I don’t think you can control yourself. Your sweet little ass loves to be spanked, so you’ll probably keep misbehaving on purpose. Maybe tying those hands up will help you remember to be our good girl?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Dean?”

“Got it.” Dean was grinning as he clutched one of their discarded ties. “Hands above your head, sweetheart. Better do it quick, Sammy’s got an itchy palm tonight - and he’s being gentle.”

He wrapped the sleek, cool silk around my wrists as Sam gently rubbed over my flesh that burned with the sweet bite of his strikes. Dean finished binding me with a durable knot, then grasped my shoulders right as Sam gripped my waist, both of them manhandling me into their desired position. I was laying across the bed now, Sam at my feet and Dean looming above me.

“Turn over, Y/N,” Sam ordered. I obeyed enthusiastically, rolling my body and instinctively spreading my legs. “She looks adorable like this, doesn’t she?”

“Good enough to eat,” Dean smirked, curling his thick tongue over his bottom lip.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance. I’m not done with her yet.”

Dean leaned over me, looping my arms over his head and brushing his upside-down lips against mine. “Such a fucking good girl for us,” he muttered, his voice deep and sabulous. He cupped both breasts in his hands, keeping his mouth a breath away from mine, breathing in my moans and sighs as Sam’s tongue licked a solid line from my entrance and flitted against my clit.

“Christ, you taste amazing, Y/N,” Sam praised. “So fucking sweet…” His lips latched on to my clit as he easily slid two of his thick yet agile fingers inside my cunt, prodding and exploring the deepest parts of me until my entire body jolted in pleasure.

“Oh fuck yes,” I groaned, fire beginning to churn in my abdomen from the vibration of Sam’s satisfied moans against my folds, from every brush of his fingers against my g-spot.

“Sammy find your sweet spot, baby girl?” Dean asked, tugging each of my nipples. “How’s it feel?”

“God, feels so fucking good...”

“You like how my brother plays with you? Bosses you around like a little fucktoy?”

“Love it, Dean…”

The tension was gathering too quickly, raw bliss surging through me, my legs beginning to tremble.

“Do you have any idea how long we’ve wanted this, Y/N? Wanted to kiss you, touch you, take care of you the way you should be?”

The waves of my climax were swelling, threatening to crest at the next word Dean uttered or the next flick of Sam’s tongue.

“Need to come...Sir, can I come for you?”

The warmth of Sam’s mouth left me as his movements slowed to just short of a stop.

“Look who’s being such a good girl now,” he grinned, his lips and chin glazed with my juices.

“Please, Sir…” I begged, knowing I sounded strung-out and pathetic, my body tensing with every ounce of self-control I had left.

“What do you think, Dean? Should we let her?”

“Fuck yeah, wanna see her pretty legs shaking, see her face this time when she comes…”

“And I want her to lose it with her mouth full...”

Dean stood up, tapping the tip of his cock against my lips, my tongue involuntarily snaking out to lick at the salty precome that dribbled out of his slit.

Sam’s fingers began to pick up momentum. “Since you won’t be able to talk, I’ll tell you now - you can come when you need to. You have my permission.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Dean traced the tip of his finger along my jawline. “Go ahead and take it, sweetheart.”

He was like velvet-wrapped iron, smooth and heavy against my tongue, stretching my lips with his girth. With my hands still tied, all he could do was fuck my mouth, sliding in until he hit the back of my throat. I let my tongue swirl around him as he pumped in and out, constantly moaning at the taste and feel and scent of him while Sam worked between my legs.

Dean held my head as he guided me along his cock, rewarding me with praises whenever I took him deep.

“Fuck Y/N you’re a pro at this...if your pussy’s even half as good as your mouth…”

Sam slid in a third finger, beginning a steady, salacious attack on my g-spot. Almost instantly, I felt my walls tightening, the weight of an intense pressure threatening to shatter me from the inside out.

“Dean, she’s close. Play with her clit for me. Y/N, you keep his dick in your mouth like a good little whore.”

I screamed around Dean’s cock as the pad of his fingers pressed and circled my clit, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as a euphoria I’d never known overtook me.

Somewhere underneath Dean’s heavy breaths and the sound of his brother’s fingers slamming into my sodden cunt I heard Sam’s insistent coaxes.

“That’s our good girl...come on, Y/N, that’s it...let it go…”

Sobbing around Dean I exploded, feeling my slick splash against Sam’s hand, soaking my thighs and the sheets beneath me. Dean pulled out of my mouth with a harsh grunt, leaving my lips free to weave a litany of incoherent curses as I rode out my high. Sam kept working, drawing out my orgasm so long it felt like it was never going to stop. He slowed his movements as I finally drifted down, sliding his fingers out of me and into his mouth.

“Dean, come clean her up. She’s fucking delicious,” he beamed, laying down next to me and pulling me into a fervent kiss; it was thorough and passionate, all-consuming, brimming with purpose. I could taste myself, mingling with cinnamon-laced flavor of his tongue.

“Thank you, Sir,” I whispered between kisses, still shuddering with aftershocks, tingles crawling up my spine from the feel of Dean’s mouth lapping up the remnants of the best orgasm of my life. My eyes fell shut as I basked in Sam’s warmth radiating beside me and the tickle of his brother’s stubble brushing against my inner thighs.

“No sleeping, Y/N,” Sam murmured against my ear. “We’re not done yet.”

Dean hooked his arms under my thighs and plunged his tongue deep inside with a hungry moan.

“Not sleeping, Sir…” I panted, my breaths becoming quicker. “I...I... oh, fuck…” Dean was sending me on a direct trajectory towards another orgasm I didn’t think I could physically handle.

“What do you want, Y/N? Tell us.”

“Want Dean to fuck me, Sir. Want his cock in my pussy and yours in my mouth.”

“I think that can be arranged,” he hummed, tracing my ear with the tip of his nose. “Would you like me to untie your hands now?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Sam rose to his feet, nimble fingers loosening the knot around my wrist.

“I still expect you to behave…”

“I will, Sir, I promise.”

“Good girl. Dean? Wanna give her what she needs?”

Dean kissed his way over my mound, up my stomach and sternum, landing on my lips for only a quick second. He knelt between my legs, grasping himself in his hand and rubbing the head of his cock teasingly between my folds.

“You want this, baby girl?” he taunted, pressing the tip right against my entrance.

“Yes, Dean. God yes, please...need you inside me…”

“Need you too, Y/N,” he sighed, steadying himself as he pushed into me inch by inch, my walls stretching and pulsing as I took him all the way in. He hissed in pleasure once he was buried to the hilt and began to move, dragging almost all the way out before sliding back in again.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart... feel so goddamn good...”

Sam was on his knees next to me, pumping himself, ready to feed me his perfect cock.

“Sir, please let me taste you,” I said, wrapping my fingers around him and guiding him into my mouth. He was as thick and long and luscious as his brother and I greedily took in everything he had.

“Oh my god, Y/N... shit yes…” he moaned as I swallowed around him, flicking and sliding my tongue. Dean grabbed my leg and raised it against his chest, affording a new angle that allowed him to nail my sweet spot with every thrust.

“Fuck...still so tight and wet…” he grunted, his thrusts gaining momentum and force. “Not gonna last long.”

“Hear that, Y/N? Want Dean to fill you up and come inside that beautiful pussy?”

I released him from my mouth, still stroking him in my hand, my breaths coming quick and hard. “Yes, Sir...Dean, please, yes…” A cry escaped my lips as Dean’s thumb found my clit again, making my insides quake, another climax taking hold of me. “N-n-need to come again...Can I come, Sir?”

“You love all of this dick in you, don’t you?” Sam sneered. “Go ahead, little cockslut, but you let him come first. And then, I’m going come in this pretty mouth of yours and you’re going to swallow every drop. Understood?”

Sam didn’t give me time to answer as he pushed past my lips again, his rhythm as fierce and insistent as Dean’s had become.

“Fuck, Y/N…” Dean growled. “Gonna come...gonna fucking come…”

Dean spilled into me with a shout, the wet, thick warmth triggering my own release, the vibration of my muffled scream pushing Sam to his own end. He grabbed my head in hands as he let out a carnal roar, hot spurts of his come filling my mouth. Dean collapsed on top of me, his brother following suit but landing by my side as soon as I drank down everything he’d given me.

Dean rolled off and settled on my other side, the three of us in a sweaty, sticky tangle of weakened limbs and rapid breaths. Eventually, Sam hauled himself up and walked to the bathroom. I turned my head toward Dean, kissing him softly as we simply stared at one another, lost in the moment, the corners of our mouths curving in sleepy, gentle smiles while we traced nonsense patterns over each other’s skin.

Sam emerged with two warm washcloths, handing one to his brother. Then he kissed me tenderly, while both brothers cleaned me and themselves up as best they could. His sweet, gentle demeanor was back, his eyes now full of what I could only dare to call love.

“Did you...was that okay, Y/N?” he asked.

I giggled, lacing my fingers through his and Dean’s hands, “It was more than okay. It was fucking mind-blowing.”

Sam let out what seemed like a breath of relief, pulling me against his chest. I nestled into that curve I knew I’d fit so well in, while Dean pressed into my front. “Glad we could deliver, sweetheart.”

“Hey guys, listen... I hate to go all chick-flick on you, but -”

“You’re wondering what happens now,” Sam offered, reading my mind. “If this was just a onetime thing.”

I nodded, slightly afraid of the response I was going to get.

“Y/N,” Dean started, “When I said you had no idea how long me and Sam wanted this...I wasn’t lying. We’ve both been in love with you since the day we saved your sexy ass.”

“This life is hard,” Sam added. “It’s dangerous and bloody and we never know if the day we wake up is going to be our last. We never thought you’d go for it, but maybe it could work...I mean if you feel the same…we’d love it if you were ours.”

“Well, son of a bitch,” I laughed.

“What?” both brothers asked in unison.

“My first time to Vegas and I hit the fucking jackpot.”

~Fin

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thesweetblossoms · 6 years

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Twelve Ways To Stop Fretting

🌴I often fret ceaselessly and needlessly about the future, rethinking unhelpful habitual thoughts, grappling with the same issues, and squandering valuable time and mind space in activities that not only do not provide any peace, but tend to agitate and deepen stresses and anxieties. Of course, the concerns range from the casual, such as what to wear to a new job, to the more existential, about whether I am fulfilling my potential and progressing incrementally, towards my layered dreams with my slow simmering efforts; recently, I have been worried about whether I would be able to devote sufficient time to my businesses, if I am also working long hours as a staff attorney at a law firm. Thus, here are a few ideas about how to approach a change, to confront an uncertain future, to duel with hastening hours, and to forestall the rough blades of doubt.

1)New Experiences: Because we cannot foretell the future, we dwell in a realm of possibilities, chances and surprises, thus one way to eliminate unwelcome worries is to be open to the unknown and to appreciate the unfolding, being aware of the nuances that may bring us moments of illumination, such as discovering a new route with prickly pair cacti, dropping date palms and cloud scaling desert willow trees, or the joy that comes with the opportunity to frequent a charming coffee shop with a decadent chocolate croissant, or even the task of choosing a daily attire, to boost feelings of wellness and comfort of a job outside of home.

2)Novel Insights: Be vivacious whenever you feel uncertain, rather than forlorn, because it is through the unknown that we are given clear sight into the wheels churning, the planets tilting, the new poppy seeds unfurling and how our own lives are steadily moving on a course that surges recklessly, between shoals of contentment and abstract rocks of chaos, because, between every awakening and every nights final snubbing of the candlelight, reveals more about the music of family, the valuable gift of lyrical leisure hours and the blue sky moments of heady enlightenment. For it is only through upheaval, changes to routines, modifications or habits and reframing of customs that we come closer to the truth.

3)Relationships: We shouldn’t hesitate to confront the new opportunities and experiences that befall us, because these are often accompanied by novel and intriguing encounters as well as chances to meet new people and develop friendships. For when we are taking a risk, changing course, or experimenting with altered methods of conducting our lives, we float into a stream swimming with potential new memories, possible friendships, and a mine of inspiration from meeting and conversing with different minds, personalities and temperaments. For when we don’t know what the future brings us, we often fill up the space with the worst imaginings and the direst outcomes, but rather then fret, we should contemplate the magical elements of not knowing who will cross our path, how they might change an aspect of our lives, or a way of thinking, or how they may improve our experience of reality.

4)Adaptability: Many of us worry, because we hate to be jarred from routine, from our well honed habits and the peace that arises from a steady and contented ritual that eases us through the seasons. Yet, by worrying we are inhibiting the adventurous spirit and the courageous instincts that we also possess in equal quantities. Thus, instead of doubting the unknown, we should utilize its cryptic nature by enhancing and polishing our ability to adapt. By taking a moment, to think and strategize about how we may grow through periods of discomfort or annoyance, of how we may challenge our behaviors and deep seated fears, we may move towards better incarnations of ourselves. We may adapt in small or new ways, perhaps continue highlighting a personality trait such as gregariousness, while tempering an inclination to be less private, or to overcome a fear of driving in town, or a phobia of transversing great distances too far off lands. Each day we might attempt to scale the barriers, by channeling our best tools, our most potent skills and our latent talents, and incrementally alter ourselves.

5)Positive Thinking: A light hand creates the most beautiful paintings, the same principle may apply, such that, the lightest thinking creates the most beautiful reality. Thus in all our rumination, our puzzlements, or bewildering half dreams, our misty morning meditations, we should err on the side or positivity, by perceiving every element in the best light. We can continue this positive trend and encourage it to seep, like dew on blossoming lilac bushes, into every element of our story by having confidence in yourself and the universe as well as an unmitigated curiosity about the unfolding of events. For any situation, after its initial explosive or even subtle entry, may provide us with emotions, answers, thoughts, inspirations and ways of thinking that we have previously not accessed or been aware of, that may reveal tentative secrets about the world around us and that could help us string together a narrative of events that makes sense only with the alchemical element of time, or it could even ensure that we act the most beneficial way to unsure favorable and happy outcomes.

6)Analyzing The Situation: A creative way to address your worries, anxieties, sadness, regret, ennui or melancholy is to create your memoir, either in your mind, or by writing, creating videos, photography and art, for each is a token of the moment that assists us in comprehending situations within the passage of time, as even the most troubling elements, often carry detectable nuances, as when we read memoirs, and notice how certain events or choices shape and alter the course of a persons life. By thinking about the future in a certain, knowing way, almost taking for granted that you will age and write your memories down, you may practice the art of hindsight even in the present moment. My favorite part of reading autobiographies, is the countless renditions of writers rising about harrowing circumstances, cruel cultural constructs or the pervasive evil of human nature, to reveal the ultimate victory of light, truth and courage. Thus, a certain degree of detachment and the steadfast employment of the power of multiple perspectives, helps us to react to events in a way that ameliorates its most haunting effects.

7)Nothing Lasts: If we remember the heartbreaking, temporary nature of life, even when we are sad, we realize how futile it is to waste even a quarter hour of the day in unhappiness. The universe is in constant flux, with the fall trees turning shades of copper, crimson and aubergine, with the chill setting into to the once balmy clouds, with candles lit and spluttering out, with the years passing steadily as a lighthouse on a thunderstruck, isolated island, with reunions coming and going, with milestones won and lost. So let go of the current distresses, for it will, also unequivocally pass away.

8)Experiment/Discover: There is so much to reality that is yet to be understood, for their has been no cure for pain, just as there has never been a thorough theory of love. So what if we could explore any situation as a momentous chance to gain jewel like insights into the mechanisms that abound around us, perhaps, contemplate the wonder of how our intuition already knows before a loved one rings, of why some trees have lived for centuries yet they have never swam in the sea, or of why candlelight, music and dancing, rinses away even the most stubborn stains imprinted into the threads of our hearts, or of why we never know ourselves no matter how much we search, or of why beautiful poetry can reduce us to tears. We should make use of champagne, or gardening, or an art as a portal to channel bliss, to see what elements align with how we hope things will turn out, realizing that maybe thinking about it in a particular, incanted light, is a secret charm, a tonic to clear away cloudy windows that reveals what we need may already be in our presence or in our repertoire. Use the worrisome aspect to discover new ways to deal with issues, unravel expedient methods to handle onerous tasks, or unveil how to manage time in a way that deliberately moves us nearer to the nebulous realms of our most coveted desires.

10)Focus On Rewards: Rather than fretting, we should focus on the future where the results of our actions manifest themselves in the clearest light. Whether in business, where long hours of effort, planning and diligence may create value for others, and later, provide revenue, or at a job, where after completing assigned tasks you are able to also share your skills and talents with the larger community for an income, or by writing or creating art that helps to ease the stubborn wounds of pilfering time, or by planting a garden with prolific wild poppies, zinnias and marigolds, it is only with patience and diligence, that we are granted the initial blooms and the first fragrance of success.

9)Gratitude: Even if initially it seems that hindrances and detours seamlessly appear whenever we move towards a certain vision, instead of lingering on the unsavory elements that rob us of our mind space, time and energy, we should tabulate our blessings, for they are just as plentiful and almost as ubiquitous, landing softly into the newly inked lines of our story, like a butterfly on a luscious frangipani blossom. By being grateful, we dwell in the space of opportunities, of pragmatism, of hacking time and energy, of doing what is needed to take us to the next step, for often, it is through change and upheaval of routines that we enter a chamber of new possibilities and happy chances.

11) Dance: Whenever you fret, do something active, take a walk, yoga, dance, work out, get up to look at the stars, or water a plant, by moving away, even an inch from our coordinates upon earth, we are also creating distance from a negative thought. I also have a theory that it is impossible to worry and dance at the same time.

12) Focus On Wellness: When we feel overcome with dread, or lapse into the eerie corridors of anxiety, we should refuel our quest for wellness. It is often challenging when we are stressed to think about our bodies and minds and to give it the priority it needs to help us through the most tiresome situations, yet, by drinking plenty of water, by making sure you sleep as much as possible, by meditating, eating healthy fresh fruits, seeds, nuts, vegetables and grains, by taking time for a facial, massages, skincare and working out, we are primed to confront whatever the next day may bring. 🐝

#design #healing #lifestyle #love #gypsy #style #bohemian #flowers #perfume #wellness #magic #alchemy #nature #natural #work #worklifebalance #yoga #dance

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gethealthy18-blog · 5 years

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10 Tips To Find Yourself When You Are Feeling Lost

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/getting-healthy/getting-healthy-women/10-tips-to-find-yourself-when-you-are-feeling-lost/

10 Tips To Find Yourself When You Are Feeling Lost

Harini Natarajan Hyderabd040-395603080 September 16, 2019

The greatest and most important purpose of our lives is to discover who we truly are. So many of us go through life not really knowing ourselves. Some of us are so busy listening to the awful inner critic that feeds us all the wrong notions about ourselves. We carry on living life without asking the biggest question that has plagued mankind since inception – who am I?

You may feel that finding yourself may be a self-centered goal, but is it really? To be a valuable human in society and the best partner, parent, and child, we first have to know who we are. We need to be aware of what we have to offer and what we value. This is a personal journey every individual will benefit from embarking on.

“What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” – Mary Oliver

What if you had a perfectly peaceful life, and suddenly, because of a situational change, find yourself struggling mentally and spiritually? Whether you are feeling lost because of your relationship, job, or as a parent, or simply feeling lost in life, you have to remember this – you are not alone. Just because you are having a hard day, month, or year, it doesn’t mean your life is over and that you will never find happiness or yourself again. Life gets hard when you are meant to go through a transformation period. The secret is not to get stuck in your current lost state and use your creative power and positivity to create the life you want to live.

Here are a few tips that will help you pull yourself out of this lost state. They will remind you that you have the power to create a life you will love to live.

1. Go On A Soul Searching Adventure

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Whether it is hiking in the forest, a week-long drive along the coast, or a solitary retreat, go out and explore the wonderful world. This will give you the focus and time you need to reconnect with yourself again. You will be away from the disturbing noise of your daily life. You will get a chance to experience the world again, with fresh eyes. However, don’t embark on this journey by going out with toxic people or putting toxic substances in your body that will alter your ability to decipher things. When you come back, you will find that you have far more clarity than you had when you embarked on this soul searching adventure.

2. Do Things You Used To Love To Do

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Do you remember the last time you laughed your heart out? Do you remember when things were not complicated and situations not depressing? It is not that things have changed drastically – it is likely because you were completely engrossed in enjoying the moment and didn’t much care about the hardships of life.

As we age, we lose sight of how beautiful life is. We take it upon ourselves to feel bored because of the mundane parts of life and are burdened by its responsibilities. If you are feeling lost, it is time to reconnect with who you are and what you love. Don’t make excuses about not having the money, resources, or time. People make time for things they think are important. Make a commitment to yourself to do what you love and watch your life change for the better.

3. Get Out Of Your Comfort Zone

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It’s time to get uncomfortable! Yes, you read it right! You need to push yourself out of your comfort zone by meeting new people and trying new things. Growth doesn’t happen on its own. You can’t stay in your comfortable bubble, where everything is familiar, and expect life to be exciting.

Challenge yourself. Do something that is mildly terrifying, yet invigorating at the same time – something that makes you feel alive. Stretch yourself just enough so that you continue to evolve and grow. What’s the first thing you thought of when you read the word terrifying? Go and do that!

4. Dream Big

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Remember the dreams you had before you lost touch with them as life went on? Do you think that they are impossible, improbable, or childish because of who you are today? Grab a journal and write down the dreams you once had for yourself. Better yet, see new ones.

If you could be whoever you wanted, what would you be? What would you like to achieve? What would you like to do? What exactly is your soul aching for? When you reconnect with your dreams, you will once again have the inspiration and desire to take action towards achieving them. You will suddenly realize you have found yourself again.

5. Be Quiet And Listen

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There are messages, signs, and guideposts that the universe has laid out for you. They will inspire you to better yourself, but you can only hear or see them when your heart and eyes are open. With all the constant mind chatter we have nowadays, it can be difficult to understand and decipher the signs that are all around us. So, be quiet and listen.

Pay close attention to the songs on the radio, signs on the road, and the people you meet. They are all messengers who will help you move forward in life.

6. Ask For Help If You Need It

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There are numerous people whose purpose in life is to help people who are lost. Reach out to them and ask for help. It could be a religious figure, life coach, mentor, counselor, a psychologist, a friend, or a teacher – whoever you feel comfortable with.

You don’t have to figure life out all on your own. Sometimes, even talking to someone sensible can provide you the insight you need. Conversation is one of the methods through which we gain knowledge and expand our horizons.

7. Accept That You Have The Ability To Be, Have, And Do Anything You Want

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Sometimes, you are so consumed with feeling lost that you forget that you can choose how you feel and what you think about. You possess a great amount of power. You have the ability to get the answers you are seeking and create the life you desire. Whether you use want to use affirmations, mantras, yoga, meditation, journaling, or something else is totally up to you.

It is important to focus on the joy and beauty present all around you. When you decide to be happy, the universe sends you more happiness as well as the answers you are seeking.

8. Understand Your Past

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To understand who we are and why we behave the way we do, we need to know our own story. Exploring your past is an important step to understanding yourself and becoming who you want to be. It isn’t just the things that happen to us that define who we are, but how much we have made sense of it.

Traumas from our history that are still unresolved affect the ways we act. Painful life experiences generally determine how we defend ourselves after growing up. To break this influence, it is important to acknowledge what is causing us to feel what we feel. We should always look at the source of our self-destructive or self-limiting tendencies.

9. Be Generous And Compassionate

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As Mahatma Gandhi famously said, “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” To lengthen your lifespan and improve your mental and physical health, you need to practice generosity. It can enhance one’s sense of purpose. It provides more value and meaning to your life.

You can get way more joy from giving than from receiving. It is best to practice generosity and have a compassionate attitude toward others and ourselves. People who care and show concern for others are generally happier.

10. Value Friendship

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We do not have the power to choose the family we are born into. But we assume that family defines who we are as people. However, we can choose our friends. We have the power to create a family of choice. But we need to be wise about this. We need to seek out people who support us, who are positive, who make us happy, and who inspire us.

This may include people we are related to by blood as well, but it is meant to be a family we have really chosen. This core group of humans has people who are our true friends and allies. This is key to finding ourselves because who we choose to be around has a profound effect on how we perceive life. Having a great support system that believes in us and supports us in reaching our goals leads to development and growth on a personal level.

Become who you want to be. This may sound obvious, but it is certainly something worth noting. You have earned this life, and it is yours – so be yourself and be happy. The idea of unlocking your true potential and finding yourself may seem like a challenge. However, you can rediscover yourself and be who you want to be with the right strategy and focus.

Hope you liked this article. Do share your feedback with us in the comments section below.

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Harini Natarajan

Source: https://www.stylecraze.com/articles/how-to-find-yourself-again/

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emp-a-t-h-y · 5 years

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things i wish i knew.

Never wager more than you can lose. This means never risk anything you are not prepared to, or not willing to give up. Unless you know you are most definitely going to win.

You never win all the time.

Self-care and self-appreciation are important, but one is always more important than the other. It is up to you to decide whether which is which in certain events. You can not appreciate yourself if you do not care nor can you care for yourself if you do not appreciate. It is a walking paradox that we all must accept and understandingly always alter to better ourselves.

Not understanding something or not liking something is 2 totally different things, do not get it mixed up and always ask yourself if you don’t understand it or you don’t like it before saying what you want to say. It seems rather unnecessary to state that but trust me, it gets mixed up all the time.

Being well-dressed does not mean suit and tie or red dresses nor does it in any circumstances mean expensive clothing and accessories. It means being presentable and clean.

Han shot first.

Be proud your biggest loses, failures and disappointments are your medal of honour but never let it weigh you down in under any circumstances.

Regret, remorse and guilt are a part of life, we just have to power through it with all that we’ve got. Even when we think we are low in the tank because that’s where it counts the most. We must never forget why we feel that way and carry these emotions with us as it teaches us the biggest thing in life, these things pass and life goes on, make the better of it.

Never crack your neck, this might be the most important one there is.

Always appreciate what someone has gone through, be it big or small, it counts as something way bigger than we all give credit for.

Biggest achievements in life are nothing to brag about but biggest failures and disappointments are something we should all understand and be kind towards. When we fail and when we are beaten down, we always gain new perception in life whereas when we are at our peak we just tend to enjoy.

Be creative with whatever challenges you may face, sometimes the best solutions are the ones that no one has ever thought of or dared to try.

Always remember that failing is the best progress report you will ever get.

Never ask other’s opinions on whether you are a good person or a bad person in their eyes, the only answer is from yourself. If you think you aren’t, better yourself and if you think you are, better yourself.

Criticism only works if you’re perfect.

You aren’t perfect.

Empathy, compassion and kindness. These 3 words shall always be embedded into your heart. I say heart and not brain because I don’t ever want you to think of being empathetic, compassionate or kind towards others before doing so, I want you to bleed, live and be the embodiment of those 3 words. Everyone deserves that. Be that.

It is perfectly acceptable to not be nice to people every now and then but never fail to be those 3 words.

Save at least 25% of your money no matter what.

Learning to cook and perfecting it should always be something you’re working towards. No one wants to be with someone who can’t feed themselves. Take out and deliveries are something very common now, but nothing beats home cooked food, especially if you do it yourself.

Never keep someone by your side or contact frequently if they’re only use in your eyes is just to boost your ego. That’s just sad and down right sadistic. Put yourself with people you think are intimidating and are achieving phenomenal feats in life. It’ll make you humble and always benefit you.

That being said, you should never think you’re better than anyone. Everyone has something they are amazing at and you should learn from everyone. EVERYONE.

Adapt to whatever unfortunate events you are put in, if you can’t manipulate the environment and surroundings to your liking but never manipulate the people.

Manipulating people at your will is never something to be proud of, it just means you’re a good liar and a sweet talker. Nothing else.

Education is important, but it should never be the only thing on your mind. Campuses, schools and libraries are where you learn and acquire knowledge to excel in your career and your future but outside of those places is where you learn to live and find who you really are as an individual. I highly recommend you to shut your books every now and then, go out and explore. Fuck around, get yourself in trouble and discover what you are. The troubles and problems you face there will be much more challenging and breaking for you than your tests. This builds character, morals and values of every individual. Because the best lessons on life are never thought by someone but by the challenges and troubles you face in life. You can’t get a course in college on how to live.

The only expectations you are allowed to have are for yourself and about yourself. No one owes you anything and whatever they give or present to you are just bonuses in life, no one is obligated to grant you anything.

Poetry is beautiful, one should always learn how to appreciate it. Even if you think it’s mundane and boring. Literature is the way your heart uses limited vocabulary to construct a story with minimum words.

Cut your nails every 2 to 2 and a half weeks.

Shave 1 day before.

Always keep in contact with your old friends. We never outgrown the relationship, we just meet other people in our lives. That doesn’t mean you’ve outgrown them, friendship is something you never outgrow, you grow with it.

You can’t change how things are but you can always change how you feel or your perception of things.

Sleeping late is never a good thing. Get your sleep right.

Friends who go through hell and back with you are not friends. They are family.

We sometimes never make the right or best choices in life, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t taking you anywhere or straying you off your coarse. It sometimes mean you’re moving towards your means, the long way round. Never lose hope in yourself or in anyone for that matter.

We’ve all got a finite amount of meeting the one. Don’t waste it.

Never do anything without a backup plan, always stay 1 step ahead of yourself.

Watch Doctor Who.

Business and romance can wait, but you can never make yourself wait for you.

Love makes you dumb, but it isn’t a bad thing so long as you keep your own well being and people who matter to you in mind.

The best moments in life are always unexpected and unpredictable. You’ll never know when, where and with who. That’s the best part. It’s like the universe’s way of sending you a gift.

We never end up where we want to be or where we initially thought we’d be, but we always end up where we need to be.

Don’t ever overlook or over think about something too severely, it never ends well. You’re just making yourself more worried and scared.

Fear and doubt are an amazing thing. Means you’re still thinking and rational.

We sometimes find ourselves stuck and heart broken. There’s no easy way out, whatever coping mechanisms that works for you, be it healthy or not. Always remember moderation and always be weary if you’ve gone too far.

Wow, you’re still reading? check out Alex Turner, his songs are amazing. Alright, continue reading you go.

The biggest challenges are often troubling and testing times. It seems less so when you’re with the right people.

Always take criticism like a champ. Never let it sway or bring you down. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t listen and try to see where they are coming from.

In life, there is only one thing that is permanent, changes. So why be worried and weary of something that has always been there and all around you? Be accepting and adapting towards it.

No one’s opinions matter more than your mother’s and your own judgement.

You can never win your mother.

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jessdog1234 · 6 years

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Steering Your Destiny

Do you ever feel as though you are drifting aimlessly with no direction? Or maybe you have a dormant passion that needs nourishing or perhaps you want to pursue art or simply want to shake up your lifestyle. The truth is that we pigeonhole ourselves but in reality, you have choice. If you genuinely want to steer your own course, begin to adopt positive thinking that will help you achieve the destiny you desire. By incorporating a handful of simple steps, you can turn your life’s course from a boat bobbling at sea, into a ship with a clear destination.

First, cultivate the power of your mind, and its influence on your attitudes and responses regardless of the circumstances. Whatever has occurred in your past, leave it there and move on. No field has ever been plowed by looking back, keep moving forward. Understand that when you empower your mind, you empower your life. Toss those old negative stories aside and begin to walk lighter, liberated from the heaviness. Answer honestly, what do I want for my life, then start to take small steps towards that destiny. Flood your mind with empowering messages, read or listen to guided meditations harness positive thinking and tell fear to take a hike. Remember only share your dreams and desires with those that are positive and respectful. Negative people will give you destructive messages that are reflective of their interior dialogue; it doesn’t have to be yours.

Start to notice how often you say yes when you mean no? If you are constantly sidetracked by other people pulling at your heartstrings or demanding your time, you will become tired and frustrated. Be wary of putting your destiny and dreams on the back burner, it can become a habit. You have the right to your future, no matter your age, social status, or immediate circumstance. Honor your life goals; no one will do it for you. Your friends and family will adjust and if they don’t that is their issue, not yours. Create boundaries and limits on your time, have a say in your life. If your partner complains because you no longer cook dinner every night or your kid's whine because you are studying for a degree, or whatever the obstacle is, stick to your plan, it will come to fruition, and you will become a positive example for those around you.

Don’t be afraid to make mistakes; they are our greatest teachers. Ignore those that point fingers from their safe and boring havens, succeeding requires trial and error. Everyone from Maya Angelou to Einstein relied on trying out different ways of looking at things. Remember failure is relative, often it provides invaluable insight, it is all part of the process. If you look at a graph of any person who has navigated their destiny, there is never a straight trajectory. Rather there are wiggly lines that head towards the top then dip, then head back up, then drop. It’s the journey, embrace it.

Be mindful of how much time you waste. People today often feel as if they are running out of time, when the truth is, it’s how you spend it. If you cruise Facebook mindlessly for hours each day or other social media (and it’s not for your work), curtail it. Try substituting an activity that will enlighten your mind, incorporate exercise into your life, keep your body healthy. Establish a practice of daily stillness, quiet time to decompress to help you come back to balance. Use your energies wisely. Perhaps turn off the tube, read a book that inspires or interests you. Knowledge liberates.

Rather than lamenting about the past, get on with your future. Forget about what you could have or should have done, wasting time thinking about missed opportunities renders nothing but a headache or worse negative feelings about yourself that are crippling. Remember the adage, hindsight is 20/20. Be grateful and keep putting one foot in front of the other, one goal at a time. If you want to be an entrepreneur, a singer, or own a bed and breakfast on the coast of Italy, forget about what you did or didn’t do, instead learn Italian, practice what it takes to become what you imagine. Never let age, circumstance, or others keep you from pursuing your destiny.

Ask for help when you need it. Human beings are herd animals, we are not meant to live solo, it’s essential to accept kindness or a helping hand when it is offered. Being stubborn and arrogant won’t get you far Look for mentors along the way, learn from them, ask questions, how did they overcome or rise above. Remember, your road will look different, but the skills that you have honed from experience or observation will serve you when you least suspect it. Conversate with others, develop your communication skills, when you can communicate with others you will develop sincere friendships along the way.

Cultivate a practice in accepting what you cannot change. There are things in life that you cannot control, like the weather or other people’s reactions. Choose happiness, foster empathy, and compassion. Your destiny requires being part of the greater whole. Befriend those people who challenge and encourage you to take risks to strive for your highest potential, then take those reigns and gallop towards the life you want. Embrace your unique destiny. Remember your journey is part of the process, it may alter what your destiny looks like, but that’s alright, it’s a beautiful blend of your unique passion, fate, and the ever-evolving universe.

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marcusssanderson · 6 years

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50 Best Henry David Thoreau Quotes

Looking for the best Henry David Thoreau quotes? We’ve prepared this collection of inspirational quotes from Thoreau for you. Enjoy!

As an American essayist, poet, and practical philosopher, Henry David Thoreau became a household name that changed many people’s outlook on life and nature.

His belief in empirical thinking and spiritual matters penetrated the pages of his work and inspired others in ways of introspection and lending yourself to nature. He was adamant on and encouraged scientific inquiry and questioning of authority and the very fabrics of democracy.

Many of Thoreau’s words still ring true for us today. He believed that living independently and making your own informed decisions was the way to live a fulfilled life. Remember him and his philosophy through the following inspirational quotes:

Inspirational Henry David Thoreau Quotes

1. “Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.” – Henry David Thoreau

2. “As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.” – Henry David Thoreau

3. “The universe is wider than our views of it.” – Henry David Thoreau

4. “Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.” – Henry David Thoreau

5. “How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.” – Henry David Thoreau

6. “The question is not what you look at, but what you see.” – Henry David Thoreau

7. “Surely joy is the condition of life.” – Henry David Thoreau

8. “Dreams are the touchstones of our characters.” – Henry David Thoreau

9. “Be not simply good – be good for something.” – Henry David Thoreau

10. “Only that traveling is good which reveals to me the value of home and enables me to enjoy it better.” – Henry David Thoreau

11. “The language of friendship is not words but meanings.” – Henry David Thoreau

12. “Never look back unless you are planning to go that way.” – Henry David Thoreau

13. “It appears to be a law that you cannot have a deep sympathy with both man and nature.” – Henry David Thoreau

14. “You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this.” – Henry David Thoreau

15. “What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us.” – Henry David Thoreau

Henry David Thoreau Quotes about life and nature

16. “Wealth is the ability to fully experience life.” – Henry David Thoreau

17. “Be yourself- not your idea of what you think somebody else’s idea of yourself should be.” – Henry David Thoreau

18. “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” – Henry David Thoreau

19. “Goodness is the only investment that never fails.” – Henry David Thoreau

20. “All good things are wild and free.” – Henry David Thoreau

21. “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately…” – Henry David Thoreau

22. “Our life is frittered away by detail…simplify, simplify.” – Henry David Thoreau

23. “If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them” – Henry David Thoreau

24. “We need the tonic of wildness…At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.” – Henry David Thoreau

25. “Not all who wander are lost.” – Henry David Thoreau

26. “Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you. But if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder.” – Henry David Thoreau

27. “Things do not change; we change.” – Henry David Thoreau

28. “Men are born to succeed, not to fail.” – Henry David Thoreau

29. “Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.” – Henry David Thoreau

30. “It is better to have your head in the clouds, and know where you are… than to breathe the clearer atmosphere below them, and think that you are in paradise” – Henry David Thoreau

Henry David Thoreau Quotes on Dreams, Success, and Friends

31. “If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with success unexpected in common hours.” – Henry David Thoreau

32. “The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.” – Henry David Thoreau

33. “Most of the luxuries and many so-called comforts of life are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.” – Henry David Thoreau

34. “Any fool can make a rule, and any fool will mind it.” – Henry David Thoreau

35. “Live your beliefs and you can turn the world around.” – Henry David Thoreau

36. “All good things are wild and free.” – Henry David Thoreau

37. “Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes” – Henry David Thoreau

38. “There is no remedy for love but to love more.” – Henry David Thoreau

39. “What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.” – Henry David Thoreau

40. “Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.” – Henry David Thoreau

41. “Success usually comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it.” – Henry David Thoreau

Other Inspirational Henry David Thoreau Quotes

42. “Be yourself, not your idea of what you think somebody else’s idea of yourself should be.” – Henry David Thoreau

43. “It is never too late to give up our prejudices.” – Henry David Thoreau

44. “As if you could kill time without injuring eternity” – Henry David Thoreau

45. “Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.” – Henry David Thoreau

46. “If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured or far away.” – Henry David Thoreau

47. “If we will be quiet and ready enough, we shall find compensation in every disappointment.” – Henry David Thoreau

48. “For an impenetrable shield, stand inside yourself.” – Henry David Thoreau

49. “Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant?” – Henry David Thoreau

50. “When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable. I see no foe. I am related to the earliest times, and to the latest.” – Henry David Thoreau

Were You Inspired By These Henry David Thoreau Quotes?

Henry D. Thoreau’s words have the power to alter your viewpoint of the world. His dedication to living his life as he sees fit and spreading his beliefs of Transcendentalism shaped an entire philosophy on what humans derive from nature and their own decisions.

Don’t let institutions dictate the direction of your dreams—dig deep and focus on what you are wanting to accomplish and it will come. Hopefully, these Henry David Thoreau quotes have inspired you to work towards your dreams and changed the way you see the world.

Do you have any other quotes from Thoreau to share with us? We would love to hear all about it. Tell us in the comment section below.

The post 50 Best Henry David Thoreau Quotes appeared first on Everyday Power Blog.

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allwicca · 7 years

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Is Wicca a Cult?

There are lots of words being thrown around trying to classify and compartmentalize Wicca and its members. One of the most dangerous and derogatory of those words is “cult.” You’d be surprised how many times I’ve been told that I’m part of a dangerous cult and need to…well let’s not get into what “they” think I need to do. My answer to this question is always going to be “no, I’m not in a cult” but who really believes me? Most of the time people just shake their heads and quietly start planning some kind of rescue. Rather than just telling you what Wicca isn’t, let’s find out together.

First, we need to define “cult” and then we’ll be able to look at the characteristics of a cult and see how Wicca compares. Dictionary.com defines cult as:

a particular system of religious worship, especially with reference to its rites and ceremonies.

an instance of great veneration of a person, ideal, or thing, especially as manifested by a body of admirers.

the object of such devotion. a group or sect bound together by veneration of the same thing, person, ideal, etc.

Sociology. a group having a sacred ideology and a set of rites centering around their sacred symbols.

As you can see, the true definition of “Cult” is actually synonymous with “religion” and has neither positive nor negative attributes. It is a neutral term. Therefore, yes, in this sense Wicca is a cult but then so is every religion. In a sociological sense Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, etc. are all cults. However, common usage of the word today carries with it the negative connotations of destruction and danger. Groups like the Branch Davidians and Heaven’s Gate have reshaped what most people think a cult is and reshapes the question asked of Wicca: is it a dangerous cult? Using the characteristics of a dangerous cult set by the International Cultic Studies Association as comparison, let’s find out.

Cult Characteristics

Characteristics of Wicca

Excessive zealotry/unquestioning commitment to leader and his teachings (whether leader is alive or dead) Wicca has no messiah, no prophets, no figure of ultimate authority. Leadership dictates how members should think, act, feel, and how they should live their lives. There are no universal laws/rules in Wicca about how to live or how to think. In fact, a common criticism in Wicca is that we can’t all agree on our own religion’s beliefs. No accountability of leadership (leader is ultimate authority at all times in organization; no other board or religious authorities can question or override). Wiccan groups and individuals practice autonomously, without any overhead church or organization directing beliefs and practices. Most Wiccans don’t even belong to a group. Some groups may create their own organizational structure and/or hierarchy, but it has no power outside that group. Recruiting new members by any means, including deception, is a primary goal. Wicca doesn’t seek converts. In fact we more often discourage hasty conversions, no matter how excited a person is about Wicca, urging people to read, learn and think through their own beliefs first. Wiccan covens and groups turn away people for membership if they feel people would not be a good fit for the already established group. Making money is a primary goal Wicca has no overhead organization that demands money. Groups may chip in for their own supplies that they all use. Larger, open groups may ask for donations to cover expenses of events, such as renting a space or paying for permits. Most Wiccans are solitaries with no requirements to join a group, attend an event or make a donation to anyone. Group promotes the ideas that the ends justify whatever means it deems necessary to carry out a ‘mission’. There is no overall mission to our religion, other than for members to find spiritual fulfillment in it if they can. Wicca is not a religion of moral absolutes. We promote ethical behavior in the form of people acting responsibly, being accountable and using their heads in any given situation. Members are controlled through doubt, guilt, shame, peer pressure. Since most members are solitaries who practice autonomously, this isn’t even possible for most Wiccans. Covens and groups generally make decisions democratically or by consensus. Mind-altering practice are used in excess and serve to suppress doubts There are no Wiccan practices required in excess at all. We use chanting and meditation for various reasons — relaxation, celebration, spiritual exploration — but considering we’re allowed to find and make up our own practices, there is no agenda of suppression involved. Questions, doubt and dissent are discouraged and/or punished. Wicca actually encourages questions and encourages people explore doubts, even if it brings them to the conclusion that Wicca is not for them. Fosters us-vs-them mentality. “Us” is the group; “them” is everyone else in society. Wiccans do not see our religions as the only way, or the only right way, or that there is any problem with not being Wiccan. Membership requirements in terms of time, efforts and money to be dedicated to the group are exhaustive and excessive. Wicca doesn’t require membership at all. Joining a group is entirely voluntary. Groups generally meet once per week to once per month; hardly excessive. Members are encouraged or required to live with the group, or only socialize with group members. It’s extremely rare to find a group of Wiccans who live together. There is no overhead authority directing a Wiccan’s socialization. Group attempts to isolate members, encouraging cutting ties with family, friends, changing activities or even jobs. Most Wiccans practice solitary. Groups don’t live together. There is no isolation. Most Wiccans will even go to family and friends for their religious holidays or rites of passage, even if it’s a different religions. Most loyal members are unable to imagine life outside of group and fear leaving. There is no fear of leaving Wicca. Wiccans are encouraged to leave Wicca if they don’t feel it’s fulfilling. Many Wiccans maintain friendships with ex-Wiccans.

As you can see, this line by line comparison shows that Wicca has nothing in common with dangerous cults. I hope you’ve noticed just how powerful the language we use is, especially when words get twisted into something sinister and dangerous. There are lots of words in common usage that are perfectly innocent but that have become imbued with negative connotations. When people are misinformed about something so different than they are used to, they tend to be content with that misinformation and rarely do any research on their own. One of the brightest things about Wicca is that it encourages us to read and explore and think for ourselves. I’m not asking anyone to follow my path, in fact it’s your right to think what you want about Wicca. Whether you agree with us or not, I hope you take the time to research Wicca on your own so that you’re basing your decisions about us on facts and truths rather than twisted ideas and vocabulary!

Blessed be,

Rain

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