#nifty is a menace | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dewdropdinosaur · 2 months

Text

Fixer Upper

ALASTOR x (F)READER

Summary: Someone dared to break Alastor's precious radio and his wrath is inconsolable. But turns out you may have some small tricks up your sleeve.

Warnings: NONE

For the dearest @anon-of-the-void. My darling, it is a pleasure as always to write these for you.

In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the fiery chaos of Hell, an unlikely friendship blossomed. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, found solace in the presence of Y/N, an inventive soul from the Victorian Era who had found herself amidst the peculiar denizens of the underworld.

Y/N was a tinkerer, always tinkering away in her workshop, concocting gadgets and gizmos that would make even the most adept engineers marvel. Alastor, with his vintage charm and macabre wit, found her creations fascinating, and the two formed an unusual bond over their shared love for innovation.

One fateful day, disaster struck when Alastor's beloved old-time radio, his prized possession from his living days, broke down. The demon was devastated, his usual jovial demeanor clouded by a rare display of anger. The residents of the hotel trembled in fear, knowing the havoc that could be unleashed if the Radio Demon's rage remained unchecked.

Alastor's crimson eyes blazed with fury as he prowled the halls of the Hazbin Hotel, his usual jovial smile replaced by a menacing snarl. The residents cowered in fear, whispering among themselves as they caught glimpses of the Radio Demon's wrathful form.

"You there!" Alastor's voice boomed, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Do you have any idea of the inconvenience of my beloved radio breaking? The nerve, the audacity!"

Niffty, the hyperactive cleaner demon, spoke with a frantic passion as she viewed the mangled radio."Alastor! I'll do it! Let me clean it please!"

Alastor's laughter rang out like a chilling melody, sending a chill through the air. "Oh, my dear Nifty, no thank you. This requires some…interrogation but feel free to clean up the aftermath."

Angel Dust, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, scoffed, "Oh, lighten up, Al, it's just a stupid radio. Besides, it's not like anyone listens to your old-timey tunes anyway."

The room fell silent as Alastor's gaze bore into Angel Dust, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. "Is that so, my dear Angel? Perhaps I should demonstrate the consequences of underestimating the power of music."

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned a spectral microphone, its ethereal glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Now, let's see who's laughing when I unleash the full force of my wrath upon this wretched offender!"

The residents of the Hazbin Hotel trembled as Alastor's menacing laughter echoed through the halls, knowing all too well that when the Radio Demon was in a foul mood, no one was safe from his terrifying fury.

As fear spread throughout the hotel, Y/N knew she had to act swiftly to quell the storm brewing within Alastor's heart. Ignoring the warnings of her peers, she clandestinely snatched the broken radio and retreated to her workshop, determined to restore it to its former glory.Under the cover of night, she stealthily crept into Alastor's room, her pockets filled with tools and determination. With deft hands, she dismantled the broken radio, each cog and wire familiar to her skilled touch.

Hour after hour, Y/N toiled away, her nimble fingers dancing across the delicate machinery. With each adjustment and tweak, the radio gradually came back to life, its familiar crackle filling the air once more. But as the night wore on, fatigue gnawed at Y/N's bones, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But she pressed on, fueled by determination and a desire to see her friend smile once more.

Finally, with a soft click, the radio sprang to life, emitting a crackling sound before filling the room with the familiar strains of vintage jazz. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she admired her handiwork.

But as she stood there basking in her success, fatigue finally caught up with her. With a yawn, she sank into a nearby chair, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep claimed her.

Unbeknownst to her, Alastor had been silently watching from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he observed Y/N's tireless efforts to fix his broken radio. When he saw her succumb to exhaustion, a pang of concern tugged at his heart, softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor.

Quietly, he approached her slumbering form, his footsteps barely audible against the creaking floorboards. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.

"My dear Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "Such devotion, such selflessness. You truly are a marvel."

A warmth blossomed in Alastor's chest as he watched her sleep, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. For the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to tenderness stirring within him—a feeling he realized with a start was nothing short of admiration.

With a soft sigh, Alastor leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead before picking up her form and striding over to his bed; tucking her in with the utmost care. As he stood there in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the fixed radio and the soft breathing of his friend, he knew at that moment that he was irrevocably touched by her kindness.

And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Alastor silently vowed to cherish and protect Y/N, for she had not only fixed his broken radio but had also managed to mend something far more precious—his wounded heart.

The next morning dawned upon the Hazbin Hotel, the air tinged with a sense of relief as the residents basked in the knowledge that Alastor's beloved radio had been fixed. Alastor strode into the lobby with a confident swagger, his usual grin plastered on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio, the familiar crackle of static filling the air before giving way to the melodic strains of love songs from a bygone era.

The residents exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident as they listened to the unexpected playlist. Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, looks like someone's feeling a bit sentimental today."

Alastor's grin widened, though there was a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "Ah, my dear Angel, music has a way of stirring the soul, don't you think?"

As the love songs continued to play, the other residents couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over them. Even the gruffest demons found themselves tapping their claws to the beat, caught up in the unexpected romance of it all.

But as Alastor's gaze lingered on Y/N, who stood among the crowd with a shy smile, a wave of realization washed over him. It wasn't just any love songs he was playing—it was a silent declaration of his growing affection for the inventive soul who had captured his heart.

And as the music filled the room with its sweet melody, Alastor couldn't help but feel a surge of hope coursing through him. Perhaps, in the midst of Hell's chaos, there was still room for love to blossom—a love that transcended time and defied all odds.

With a soft chuckle, Alastor stole a glance at Y/N, his heart swelling with newfound courage. For in that moment, amidst the gentle strains of love songs and the soft glow of morning light, he knew that he was falling—falling head over heels for the one who had fixed not only his broken radio but also the shattered pieces of his soul.

520 notes · View notes

lolbital · 3 months

Text

My hazbin hotel ship opinions!

• staticradio: my favorite, my obsession, my life. It is very obvious in the show that Vox is obsessed with Alastor. The most common opinion in the community is that it’s one-sided, but I like to think Alastor pulled away because he was afraid of his reciprocated feelings towards Vox.

•radiorose: This is my second favorite Alastor ship. They are super cute and they’re quite perfect for eachother. I just enjoy their friendship too much to actively ship them.

•radioapple: I only understand this ship because it seems like they have existing tension, but otherwise I don’t enjoy it. Alastor and Lucifer’s relationship was never expanded on beyond their immediate rivalry. Maybe if season 2 gives them more interactions or a backstory I will be able to get behind this ship a little more, but I really can’t see this as anything more than a boring rivals to lovers trope.

•staticmoth: It’s okay, but I don’t see them as much more than a sexual relationship. I don’t think Valentino is capable of genuine love.

•polyvees: I see Velvette as more of a younger sister to the other vees. To me the idea of her having two boomer older brothers is just funny. I don’t think this ship is necessarily bad it’s just not my thing.

•bombsnake: I think they’re cute. Unfortunately I don’t think Cherri really has returned feelings for Pentious. Based on their interactions she just seems interested in experimenting sexually with him because of his anatomy. I could be wrong though, so I’m very open to this ship!

•Charlastor: I see Alastor as a father figure or older brother to Charlie. Especially after the Hell’s greatest dad song, I just can’t ever see them in a romantic situation. I am not against the ship, but I personally don’t like it.

•Chaggie: I have nothing bad to say about them! Their relationship is healthy and I think they’re perfect for eachother. I particularly enjoy the fact that Vaggie was an ex-exterminator because it truly promotes Charlie’s idea of redemption. I am going to be extremely upset if Vaggie gets redeemed and gets seperated from her gf.

•radiodust: most people who ship this probably still have the pilot in mind. They don’t interact a whole lot in the show, and I see this as more of a crackship than anything.

•huskerdust: It looks like they’re going to be getting a slow burn relationship and I’m so happy about that. I like to think that Husk is refusing Angel’s advances because he knows he’s only doing it because of hypersexuality at first. I’m 99% sure that is what is canon too. I want to see their relationship grow.

•radiohusk: I am sorry but I can’t get behind this whatsoever. Husk absolutely hates Al, and Al owns him. There is no equality in this relationship, and it would get toxic very quickly.

•radiomaid: I love their dynamic but only as friends. I know Nifty is an adult, but she acts so childish and Alastor still owns her. I don’t like the power imbalance and maturity gap.

•alastor/lilith: if the theory that Lilith owns Alastor is true, then I am interested to see if we get a backstory about them, or what they might’ve been doing for 7 years. As of now I am neutral.

•guitarspear: these two menaces belong together. It seems like Lute really cares about Adam too which is an added bonus.

•Adamsapple: definitely a crackship. I don’t know what to say other than I find it amusing.

•valdust: I despise this ship. There is a very abusive power imbalance and it is proven that Anthony is nothing more than an object in Val’s eyes. There is no love here, just manipulation.

•royalhalo: cute, but even better if It’s poly with Vaggie. If emily becomes a fallen angel, Charlie could have two gfs and I stand behind that.

•lucilith: I hope they get back together. Lilith better have a good reason for leaving.

•Vaggie/Angeldust: most probably ship this because they were likely a longtime viv follower. I’m not against this ship necessarily, but I could never get behind it. Maybe I just adore chaggie and huskerdust too much.

188 notes · View notes

newleaf92 · 3 months

Text

Things I’d like to see in Hazbin Hotel:

Valentino absolutely losing his shit over Angel Dust—which in turn causes Husk to go completely feral in either beating Val to a pulp or gambling over Angel’s contract (and winning of course)

Some more background on what actually caused the rift between Vox and Alastor—Stayed Gone did reveal a fight of some sorts happened, but what actually caused it.

Lucifer being completely blindsided by Lilith’s return and initially being so over the moon at her return that he fails to notice any ulterior motives. Eventually, I want this to build up to a climax where he is forced to make a decision—keep his relationship with Lilith or supporting/defending Charlie and her dream.

Charlie struggling with Lilith’s return, and heavily doubting the hotel before she comes to a point where she is willing to defend her hotel against anyone—her mom included.

Alastor cashing in on the favor Charlie owes him from their deal

Sir Pentious and Emily bonding in heaven and trying to find ways to help Charlie

Lute and Valentino both going poof

As an added bonus:

I would absolutely love seeing Nifty being a complete menace to Valentino. It would be hilarious if she somehow infiltrated the Vee’s tower and we just hear/see Val screaming for Vox’s help as she tries to get more for her collection.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #alastor #angel dust #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel vox #nifty hazbin hotel #sir pentious #fuck valentino

200 notes · View notes

delusional-mushroom · 3 months

Text

Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Autism creature reader ii

Apparently you all like this? Sorry about the long wait, school’s been kicking my ass lately.

Anyway, here’s part 2, Bon appétit

Part i | Part ii

You fell.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

All you remember was waking up to Speckle slithering on your face and- HOLY CRAP YOUR WING SHOULD NOT BEND LIKE THAT

After about 10 minutes of wallowing in your pain, you slowly got up.

Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow

You took a moment to take in the situation. Your clothes, as well as the ground beneath you, we’re stained in gold. It was hard to miss the golden blood trailing behind you too.

There was also a crater in the ground where you fell.

You see the Hazbin hotel in the distance and with the obvious attitude of “What could go wrong?” You sauntered towards the looming building

Speckle took over sight duty on the way tho. The Bright sign posts and the occasional dumpster fires rubbing salt on the metaphorical wound of your approaching melt down.

When you finally got there, you uncovered your eyes and stood outside for a few minutes before finally gathering up the courage to knock on the door.

Luckily for you, it’s Charlie who opens the door.

You exchange awkward greetings, Charlie beating around the bush of asking you the casual question of you know, why the fuck you’re in hell?

After a few seconds of staring at each other, you nervously fiddle with your thumbs

“So Uhm, I uh, fell, I guess.”

After the initial shock, concern, and confusion, Charlie welcomed you with open arms

At first, the hotel residents didn’t know what to make of you

Vaggie was pretty neutral with you, you seemed alright enough in heaven and if you weren’t gonna make a fuss neither would she.

That is, until she found you making yourself a cup of cocoa at two in the morning.

“Had a nightmare,” you mumbled when she questioned you, hand stretched towards you as if she held her spear to you throat. Did she sleep with the thing? Who knows.

She dropped her arm and took in your disheveled appearance. That seemed to check out. It seemed tonight wasn’t good for you either. “What about you?” She heard you ask drowsily.

“Nightmare.” She said. It was cold and blunt as she turned on the kettle and carelessly threw a teabag inside of a mug. ‘Best girlfriend ever’ it read in black. A gift from charlie, she smiled at the thought.

“Wanna talk about it?” You tested. This situation was more awkward than you wanted to deal with. At least the noise of the kettle in the background filled up the silence.

Vaggie turned to you, the ghost of a smile lingering on her face. Maybe tonight wasn’t so bad.

And since then you and her talked about what was bothering you. Or not. Sometimes you just sit next to each other, a cup of cocoa in both of your hands and enjoy each other’s company.

Angel found you funny

Fat nuggets 🤝 you.

Whenever Angel has to go to the studio, he leaves Fat Nuggets with you.

Whether its for you to watch the pig, or the pig to watch you, well… thats up to you.

He probably won’t open up to you about Valentino

But if he does, the stupid bald moth asshole can expect a lot of passive aggressive [special interest] themed notes that come seemingly nowhere.

Sir Pentious didn’t know what to make of you at first.

To him, you were some random child that showed up one day and could go from staring into someones soul for minutes on end without blinking, to looking like you were on the brink of tears if you hands brushed against a nope texture.

Eventually though, you ask about his inventions.

Bro had a whole “your asking about my theories? I’ve waited years for someone to ask me about my theories!” Moment.

(If you get that reference I love you)

You become hyper-fixation buddies.

You and Nifty don’t get along too well…

“YOU LEAVE THE ROACHES ALONE!” You shriek, holding two bugs high above you hear as the short little menace tries to get to them, knife brandished.

“NEVER!” She laughed back a crazed look in her eye.

…that wasn’t fun. Rest in piece Sir Bob and dame Jane.

Whenever you zone out in front of Husk, he pours a glass of apple juice and gently places it in front of you, eyeing you every now and then, a concerned look in his eyes.

Alastor finds you amusing.

He tried making a deal with you on your first day.

Now Vaggie won’t let him within a 3 meter radius of you.

When you meet Lucifer, he takes one look at you, Speckle coiled around your neck and a bottle of apple juice in your hands and just immediately goes “🫠”

He’s your father now. There’s no getting out of it. Why would even you want to tho?

Hyper-fixation buddy #2

You both rant about your special interests to each other

Be prepared to be bombarded with rubber ducks.

Meanwhile, in heaven…

Everyone: wHeRe iS tHe cHiLd?

#fanfiction #platonic x reader #hazbin x reader #platonic hazbin hotel #autistic reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lucifer x reader #platonic lucifer x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin angel dust

204 notes · View notes

christinebloodwrittings · 3 months

Text

To hunt or be hunted #2

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer

Summary: Strong statements from the "feared" king of hell, deadly oversights, cute duck-shaped cupcakes and the forgotten terror that lives beneath the hotel enjoying a certain demon's broadcast.

Warnings: Self loathing, a bit of a scare, nothing else I can think of.

Taglist: open...

The crowd, and 102 notes have spoken. Funny enough, things I consider drabbles blow up, and stuff that I like and post stays forgotten, anyways that's life. Feedback is always appreciated btw.

For the ppl that voted One-shot, my request box is open if you guys want to drop something Hazbin related.

Charlie had habilitated a back door for the kitchen, heading to the street, so that groceries and the kitchen supplies that you order could arrive unnoticed and would not bother her guests. Also for you to come and go as you may see fit without drawing, as she called it, ‘Unwanted attention’.

Of course she wasn’t thinking of the swarm of questions that may come your way, but more like if they found out, she would have to break the little image she had worked on all this years, the controlled, nice and loving princess everyone knew; to show a bit of the real menace she can be. She hated exercising her authority over others because of what happened with you, it felt wrong and invasive, so she never wanted to re-enter the same void she had fell through when her mother left.

She still used a more severe tone when addressing to you and her orders, or as she calls them ‘mandatory suggestions’, orders nonetheless, and when she asks you for what you’ve heard around town. She wants to keep up with what the people say about the hotel? Not entirely, she just likes gossip.

When either Angel Dust or Husk asked Charlie where did the food come from, she either said that she ordered it, or rely on the fact that sometimes Nifty cooked, per Alastor’s suggestion, but only when he wasn’t around to bring out the fact that she was lying.

Your ears perked up at some noise coming from the renovated parlor, usually it was just Alastor messing with the king of Hell, which made your eyes roll in annoyance given his lack of battle IQ, but the stubborn stag was mildly protected by the princess’s favor, without it, his head would hang on the king’s wall, probably as a coat rack. Now, that thought brought you a smile and a small laugh.

Later at night, when most demons were fast asleep, Angel Dust tiptoe his way inside the hotel, after a long session demanded by Valentino. He tried no to groan given the fatigue, and as he stretched backwards, making his back crack.

“What the fuck?” he muttered when a candle lit up on top of the new bar table, on top of it lied a plate with a medium rare cooked stake sided with homemade mash potatoes and some sauteed vegetables, next to it a glass of wine and silverware, along with a note that read:

“You failed to attend to dinner, saved you a plate. Enjoy”

He reluctantly took a bite, but after realizing that if it were spiked with anything he would’ve already died, given that drugs in hell had a fast effect when it comes to assassination, he enjoyed every last bit of it, making small moan sounds as he did. He also complimented the selection of the wine. You enjoyed the praises as you saw him eat.

As soon as he made his way back to his room, you took the plate and various items to give them a wash. The next day, Husk earned a kiss on the cheek without knowing what he did to deserve it.

It gave you a warm feeling in your chest when the guests liked your food, even more so when they expected anxiously what would it be for the next day, as you never really published the menu for the week, only the princess knew.

Given Angel’s constant praise, you started leaving protein shakes in his night stand before he woke up, always with a ‘Drink me for strength’ note, same with Vaggie when she started working out in the mornings. Charlie took your gesture and assured that she made them out of concern, which was well received by the rest, but not so much from her towards you.

“What did we talk about laying low?” she turned a bit demonic as she whispered harshly, “If you want to starve yourself to death, be my guest, but you made me the chef of the Hotel since day one, and no one inside this walls will die of malnourishment if I can help it” you well knew of the nasty habit the princess had towards food, by sometimes (often) forgetting to eat, or drive herself to an extent of stress, that she just dismissed breakfast or launch, even both on some occasions.

“Fine. On another subject, my dad will start living here, permanently. He’s Celiac, just so you know” Gluten allergy, that caught you off guard. You made a mental note to replace flours, rice and pastas into a non-glutinous option, same as your pastries for tea time from now on.

“About time you made peace with him” she shot you a warning look but didn’t correct you, “Yeah well, I’m happy about it, it took too long” for a while she felt that it was her fault for her parent’s split, as any child of divorce would begin to feel in the first period of the breakup. That feeling diminished, but hasn’t left her system entirely, no mater how much her girlfriend reassures her of the contrary.

“Arrange his room please, I left a few things lying around, but I have a session, so, can you handle it?” you nodded, satisfied with your answer, or rather lack thereof, she turned into her cheery self. “He left to pack up a few things from the castle, he’ll be back in a few hours, please don’t let him see you” with that last bit, she left the kitchen.

The king’s room wasn’t messy, Nifty wouldn’t allow it, so there were just a few items to place around, and a massive bed to put together, piece by piece no less. It was a Belphegor’s elite brand bed, no less, it had an insane amount of screws and parts, for someone known as the queen of Sloth, it took a serious amount of effort to put up with her products.

Took you two hours to set the whole thing up. Why did it take so long to put together a bed? because when you had it perfect, you noticed that you had three leftover screws, you weren't supposed to have leftover screws, so you disassembled it piece by piece until you found a place for the damn screws. The instructions were worse written than a menu in a Cantonese restaurant when the owner is obviously not Cantonese and wrote up the whole thing in google translate.

You took a big breath, satisfied with your work only when you put on the last blanket over the foot of the bed. “Weight blanket” you muttered with the fabric in between your fingers. Right in between the bedspread and the sheet there was a fairly heavy blanket, it lead to something obvious, two, either anxiety, or the king was missing his wife to the point he needed a weighted hug over him.

Your ears caught the sound of wings, he would arrive in no time.

You only had a millisecond to think, either run to the door and risk being seen, or put on the veil, jump out the window, but you were at penthouse level, that would probably leave you quadriplegic, on the other hand you transferred your tunnel system between the walls from the old hotel to the new one, you would just have to push the fake tile behind the bathroom door.

You ran out of time.

Still in your place, like a statue, you put the veil carefully over your body, this time without your eyes being able to be seen through.

The fallen angel dropped one single portfolio, the same blowing up into a swarm, no, a tsunami of rubber ducks, pieces of clothing, all ending up scattered all over the room, giving you an opportunity to make your way behind the bathroom door.

“Oh Charlie put together my bed? That ought to be a lot of work” he ended the sentence with a singsong tone before jumping onto the mattress. ‘That’s a shit ton of baloney, I bust my ass and the little devil gets credit for it? Fucking fantastic’ you mentally growled.

“Lily, if you could see her, she looks more like you every day” his voice cracked, “I wish…I wished I knew how to help. What could I possibly offer her? Advice? Experience? On what?! falling, being a constant disappointment? She did more things than you and I did in ten thousand years”

“I feel so useless” peeking over the door you saw the tiny king, wrapping himself in his six enormous wings. ‘Majestic’ you thought, after seeing millions of demons since you died, it was the first time you saw someone so beautiful. It made sense, he was indeed the prettiest angel God ever created, the best singer too.

How can someone like that, ethereal, could be troubled by things so…earth bound?

In an instant, he jumped out of bed, brushed up his hair a little, then walked out the door with the most fake smile you had ever seen. Boy you knew about fake smiles.

Later in the afternoon, around tea time, you changed up your regular flour for almond, it was definitely a different experience in terms of texture, but in terms of flavor, it could pass for regular flour, no one was going to notice.

Three types of cupcakes: Salted caramel, red velvet with vanilla stuffing, and cookie dough cupcakes shaped as ducky ones.

Alastor wasn’t a fan of sweets, so a mildly coffee infused cake with a caramel dressing with coarse salt on top, did the trick amazingly. Paired with a nice cup of Orange Pekoe tea to send him down memory lane. When you picked his plate up, there wasn’t a single crumb left.

The rest of the Hotel fancied your pastries, and loved sweets. Red velvet was a well-received classic, but it consisted of a vanilla flavored cake, and pair it with a filling of the same flavor might over do it. Instead, you added orange juice to the mix, the citrus smell with the sweet vanilla swirl on top were the sensation in the redemption session.

The only questionable thing about the mix was the berry tea that Charlie liked to drink during her sessions.

You baked small batches of cookie dough balls only a quarter of time, then poured the gluten free vanilla cupcake batter on top of it, keeping the cookie cooking at the bottom while you prepared the chocolate icing. When still warm you used a duck shaped scraper for the cake to take shape, then use the icing to make spikes, horns and little faces on them when it had cooled down a bit.

Why were you making special things for him? Pity? Empathy? Maybe both, but you were far too busy remembering the steps to the king’s room to bother.

All the ducks seemed organized, it definitely was the same mess, but perhaps there was some sense in his insanity. The plate was placed carefully in his night stand, along with a saucer and the tea cup filled with chamomile tea.

“Stop, freeze right there” you were about to place the hand written card when the distorted voice of the king froze your nerves in place, good thing that you were wearing the veil.

“Riddle me this, I’m connected to your every step, but I’m not your shoe. What am I?” he was near but stayed right in your blind spot, as he walked towards you. “Answer” his voiced sent chills down your spine, made your teeth sharpen as well as your claws, and your ears perk up defensively.

“You’re a shadow” your answer brought in him a subtle laugh, “Even through that shield of yours, dear, you cast a shadow, I saw a glimpse of it make it’s escape through the bathroom” was it that simple? Did anyone else in the Hotel had been as perceptive as him, no they would’ve ask Charlie or Alastor about it.

“So? How long have you been lurking in the Hotel?” walking past you, he brought up the tea cup to his lips, making a grimace, “Drink it, you look either sick, or worse, anemic, you’re three tones paler than your daughter” he shrugged, apparently aware of his state.

“I believe I asked you a question” his eyes shifted colors, just like Charlie’s, “None of your beeswax” you couldn’t tell him even if you wanted to, “I’m your King” the little heavy step he did was hilarious, but laughing would’ve get you killed.

“So what?” he widened his eyes at your boldness, dismissing it entirely after a laugh, “Mm, how about you answer my question and then I might consider letting you go?” his boot was on the edge on the veil, one move and he would see you, “How about you stop being a bull on me and enjoy my cookin’?” he took a moment to actually see the cupcakes, a tender smile drawn on his face.

When he looked back at where you where, all he saw was the veil falling gracefully to the ground, likewise it dissolved into the air.

“I fucked up” your heart throbbed painfully in your ear; the rush was real.

Your room was underneath the Hotel, a system of catacombs led to different fates to those stupid enough to enter, only you and the princess knew of the correct way. The space wide consisted of black brick walls, a twin size bed placed on the corner, a wooden wardrobe, the rustic eighteen hundreds themed bathroom, and a set of seven iron candle holders screwed to the wall.

“Good afternoon Hell!” Alastor’s voice became present through the radio you kept on your night stand, “I’m in a jolly mood on this occasion, a well baked pastry would put a smile on anyone, even in the crankiest demon in hell” he laughed, then continued on topics from a simpler time, then the screams of his new victim.

You rested your tachycardia on your bed, focusing on your breathing and Alastor’s voice, to make your heart slow down to a normal pace.

“Thank you for listening, it was a pleasure to entertain you. Now, a small request from a friend in between the walls, I hope you enjoy this one, dear” he placed the dusted vinyl on the player, allowing it to roll one of your most liked songs, Cuban Moon by Carl Fenton’s Orchestra.

Slang, jazz, the demoness that haunted Alastor’s brain was definitely from his timeline, probably the same state he lived in. But what really itched his brain, was the axe. “It’s an unorthodox method to kill someone, the blade loses its edge quickly and it would require a brutal force to cut through bones…unless” he pondered over an open binder with pieces of old newspaper that fell with him, parts of the news were about him, but the front page was about someone else.

The next day, Lucifer walked fast down the stairs, grabbed Charlie by her shoulders and demanded, “Who is she? The demon living in the walls?”.

Your note for Lucifer read the following: "Someone who swore to love you through sickness and health, and still left, is not worth your tears."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Baloney: same as nonsense or bullshit

None of your beeswax: Slang for 'none of your business'

Bull: Slang for police-man

Stay tuned ;3 Part 3

188 notes · View notes

rosewaterandivy · 3 months

Text

summary: as far as dinners go, it could’ve been worse.

pairing: e.m. x eldest harrington!reader

w.c.: 990

warnings: accidental pregnancy, attempted bribery, reader a sophomore at Yale, eddie is 20

“So, Munson,” Mr. Harrington says, voice straining at politeness, “Ever heard of condoms?”

Steve chokes on his water as his eyes cut to you. Rolling your lips between your teeth, you hold your tongue despite wanting to do the exact opposite. Eddie cautions you with a quick glance, oddly reassuring.

“I hardly think that appropriate—“

“If you’re old enough to use them, then you're old enough to discuss the consequences, isn’t that right, dear?”

And for all your mother’s effort, she merely shrugs as if to say what can you do? She takes another sip of her wine.

“Dad, you said you’d be polite.” You remind him, spearing a brussel sprout with a particular fury.

“I’m being perfectly nice,” He says icily, “I haven’t even threatened him yet.”

“C’mon,” Steve says, trying for levity. “We can be civil.”

“Of course,” Your father scoffs. ��Civil. It’s civil of me to invite you into my home, to dine with the trailer trash that dared laid hands on my—“

“She’s not yours,” Eddie cuts in, a mirthless laugh propelling the words from his mouth. He’s getting impatient, the pull of his upper lip just enough to give him a slight snarl. “She’s not some pawn for you to maneuver across the board anymore, Harrington.” Eddie’s eyes dart to you, calm and collected. “Hasn’t been for some time now.”

“That is enough!” He seethes, playing right into Eddie’s hands. Smoothing down his tie which had become rumpled in his outburst, Mr. Harrington trains his eyes on Eddie with a steely resolve. “I am only going to say this once.”

Eddie sits up a bit straighter in his chair. He can see you’ve abandoned the pretense of eating, fork laid delicately across the bone china plate. Your knuckles turning white as your clutch the arms of the chair. Steve catches your attention and deploys some sibling shorthand Eddie could never quite decipher, before abandoning his seat to stand at your side.

You bite your cheek, hoping the slight pain would mitigate the tears gathering in your eyes, as your brother lays a comforting hand on your shoulder, and wait for the fallout from this dinner party disaster.

Mr. Harrington points a menacing finger at Eddie, all boardroom bravado, and carefully enunciates his words. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy.”

Harrington’s barely started his tirade and Eddie’s blood is already boiling. He tongues his canines and forces himself to stare the man down.

“From one… father to another,” He spits the word. “I will not have my grandchild to be raised by the likes of you. As a Harrington, that baby will know exactly who they are, and who they are not.”

He hears your sharp intake of breath, knows he can’t let himself to get distracted right now. Eddie takes a slow breath as your father continues.

“I will not allow you to ruin everything this family has built. You can rest assured that the child will want for nothing. And if you walk away now,” He pulls a paper from his jacket pocket and slides it deftly across the polished table. “I can make it well worth your while.”

“William, you wouldn’t—“ Your mother gasps, wine glass clinking onto the table.

But oh, he would.

In fact, there was not much Mr. Harrington wouldn’t do to preserve the pristine veneer of his family name. And really, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d paid a Munson off.

It would, however, be the first time he’d attempted to bribe the wrong one.

Apparently, the apple fell farther from the tree than he’d bargained for.

“You done now, Will?” Eddie snarls, voice taunting as he rises to his full height and looms across the table. “Must think you’re real hot shit in that three piece suit to what? Try and intimidate me?” He scoffs, eye flitting to the document laid before him. “Have to say, that’s a pretty nifty sum you’ve had your boys cook up there. Too bad you bet on the wrong horse, huh?”

At this, your father’s once confident smirk slides off his face.

“See, you can raise all the hell you want. Drag me through the mud for all I care. You think I give a fuck about that?” He snorts, flicking the paper back down the table. “I know what people like you think of me, and that’s fine. I know who I am.” He pauses, watching the muscle of your dad’s jaw tighten in fury. “I may just be Al Munson’s screw up son to you, can bribe him just like we did the old man. But I think we both know who raised me.”

Eddie watches as the realization dawns on the man, how fantastically he’d miscalculated. Didn’t even have to mention his name, and already had old Harrington sweating bullets.

“I don’t know about you, but I wager there’ll be hell to pay once he finds out you’ve not only slandered his grandchild but also upset his favorite person in the world.”

His mouth, which had fallen open to launch a rebuttal, falls shut. Mr. Harrington eyes him quizzically.

“Oh, me? Nah man,” Eddie shakes his head and nods toward you, standing at the opposite end of the table. “Her.”

He sets his napkin on the table and pushes in his chair, his mama taught him manners after all. “Well Mrs. H., thanks for the swell dinner.”

Eddie’s body is already buzzing as you stride toward him and slot your fingers through his. Pulling him down the entryway, your heels click against the polished marble floor.

He pauses at the door, your mother and father still seated in the dining room as Steve grabs his keys.

“Y’know, I may not have much,” Eddie says, voice raised for them to hear. “But I’ll do right by them, William. No one can stop me.” An elegant bejeweled hand reaches for the door knob, “Though you’re welcome to keep trying.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #tw: pregnancy #wtf is this #i sure as shit don’t know!

163 notes · View notes

alexa-fika · 2 months

Note

hey I'm so so sorry but can you make nifty reader a female? I'm so so sorry I didn't clarify 😭 you don't have to at all I'm so so sorry

🍡

Menace Ahoy (Whitebeard pirates x f!child!reader)

A/N Absolutely no problem! Thank you for asking!

Talking about this post with male!reader

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha as a placeholder which means Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“You lost her?!”

“The hell do you mean me?! You were also supposed to keep an eye on her!”

“That’s enough the both of you! Right now, we need to focus on finding her before she sneaks into the kitchen or the training areas.” The first-man yelled, scolding his crewmates

“I swear I had her by my side a few seconds ago. I just I blinked, and just like that, gone! It’s like she just up and vanished!” Ace said desperately, looking around

“That’s why you can’t take your eyes off her; she is quick like that,” mutters Vista, thinking of where the little menace could have run off to now

“She wouldn’t get off the ship, would she?” He questions

“Unlikely, she will only get down once she sees one of us has deboarded, and despite looking for trouble, she won’t leave our side unless we tell her she can,” Izou pipes in

Their discussion is quickly cut short as two voices join their conversation

“What have I told you about sneaking into the kitchen?” Thatch grumbles, holding a girl by the scruff of her shirt walking closer to the men

“But it was a mess! I needed to clean the mess up!” She fusses, looking up at the chef

“No, uh, Kitchen is a big No, No, don’t trust you not to steal one of my knives again.”

“It was dirty; I need to go back and clean it; I need to make sure it’s clean, so much mess, I need to clean it,” she rambled on as she began to spiral on the thought of the kitchen and all the tools and areas that needed to be cleaned up

“Hey, Hey, I get you want to clean, but you can’t just barge in and start cleaning; you could get badly hurt if you touched one of the hot surfaces. Please don’t go back in there without one of us,” He said, lowering the child to the ground

“Just don’t sneak in there again, got it?”

“Sorrey”

“It’s okay; I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried you could get badly hurt. How about you come to ask me first, and I‘ll let you know if I help clean?”

She grins, nodding excitedly

“Okay!”

“Hey, Dokucha, are you coming with us?” Called Vista; Marco and Izou already waiting for the pair at the port

“Yeah!” She exclaimed, running her way but skidding to a stop and looking at the two behind him

“Are you not coming?” She asked, looking at Thatch and Ace

“I’ll stay here; I have some things to attend to in the kitchen,” Thatch replies; he takes a moment to sigh and rub his head

“Someone has to keep this idiot some company,” quips Ace with a grin, only to groan as his comment was received with a hit on the back of the head

“What the hell, Thatch?!”

She snickers at her brothers' antics and resumes running her way to Vista, joining her as they go down the gangway

“Where are we going?”

Marco looks back at the two

“I need to refill some of the medical supplies; after that, we need to stack up on drinks,” Marco answered, looking down at the list he held in his hands

She jumps her way to Marco, hanging from his shoulder to take a look at the note

“What’s gunpowder? And what the hell is whetstone?” the girl asked, squinting at the words in the note

“Language,” muttered Marco, giving a side eye to the kid on his shoulder

“Whetstones are used to sharpen swords, Dokucha; I need it to sharpen my swords; the one we have has grown dull,” Vista answered

“Hehehehe, Can I have the swords when you sharpen them?”

“Certainly not.”

“Just for a little bit, just want to test them; how do you know if they go through the skin if you don’t try it?” She grinned, a maniacal look growing in her eyes

“Who are you trying this on?!”

“I can find people to stab real quick; you won’t miss them.”

“No”

“I can use the blood of our enemies.”

“Still no.”

“Bah, what about gunpowder?”

“It’s used for firing weapons like my pistols,” Izou replied, showing the kid his pistols as he said that

“No.”

“Din’t even ask!”

“Don’t need to; you wouldn’t be allowed.”

“Ugh, party poopers,” she whined, sticking her tongue at the two

They roll their eyes at her antics, a chuckle escaping Vista as he shakes his head

“You’re quite something, Dokucha,” Marco stated, putting the note away and beginning to make his way into town

“I wouldn’t trust you with a wea- Agh!” His words were cut off as one of the locals knocked into him, causing him to stumble slightly in surprise

“Watch where you’re walking, dumbass,” they growl, continuing their way deeper into town

“…”

“Stab, Stab?” She said, not taking her eyes off the person as they walked away, an ominous-looking smile growing on her face

“Leave them,” Marco groaned, brushing himself off

“But they deserve it to have their blood splattered!”

“They are not worth it,” Vista sighed, shaking his head

“It’s fine. Let them have their rude ways; they hardly deserve any of your attention,” Izou added

“Don’t let people like that bother you, Dokucha; people like that enjoy pushing people around. It’s best not to waste your time with them,” Vista finished

“They were rude; come on, just one stab! I’ll make the prettiest painting with their blood.”

“No”

“No one will mis-

“Absolutely not”

Everyone would be hap-

“Just drop it.”

“Come o-

The three stated their answers firmly, all three sharing a similar tone that told him there was no room for discussion

“Party poopers”

Again thank you for asking nicely, I have no problem publishing a piece again with the pronouns changed for you guys as long as you guys asked nicely! So don’t be afraid to ask, it’s an easy fix!

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

119 notes · View notes

arcielee · 1 year

Text

She Walks in Starlight

Summary: A goddess comes to ask for help to save her friends. Paring: Aemond!Hades x OFC!Persephone Word Count: 4358 Warnings: Mention of character(s) death. It’s HotD and Greek mythology, so there will be incest. Author's Note: So, the whole Aemond as Hades trope has been done before BUT NOT BY ME so lets go. My inspiration came from this Aemond drawing: artist. It’s so nifty. Also, huge shout out to @aspen-carter for her ceaseless patience and helping me edit this. I am so grateful to have her as a friend because her writing is just top tier and her insight is so wonderful. ♥ Also! Gō vys is Valyrian for Under world. Enjoy! Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @aaaaaamond (slash means I am unable to tag you) Series: Act I - Act II - Act III

ACT I

“Little goddess, you are far away from where you belong.”

This was the truth spoken, for she never before dared venture away from her mother’s watchful gaze, never pressing beyond the boundary she swore she implemented for safety. Today it was fate that propelled her soft steps to follow the trodden pathway that wove from her realm into his.

His tone was low and voiced with authority, but she did not feel threatened despite the grim scenery she now found herself in. The Underworld seemed just a shadowed, desolate reflection of the mortal realm above; it was not shroud in darkness, mostly void of pigmentation save the veily blue hue that enveloped all around. She watched the souls make their way towards the ferryman, unaware their fluid steps were not solid against the grey sand that spread the shore of the river Styx.

“Aïdōneús,” she used the ancient moniker, for who else would be present other than the lordship to the realm of death? She spoke his name as she heard from the hushed whispers of the mortals, who were afraid to misstate and bring unwanted attention from the king of the dead. For her, it was an ancient tongue known to the gods and it spilled like a sweet nectar from her wet lips. She pressed on the ball of her foot to turn and face him.

Throughout the ages, many adjectives have been used to describe him and beautiful was the first to her mind.

The contours of his face were sharp as the marble stones that the mortals would carve the gods’ likeness into and it gave a severity to his expression. She saw the left side of his face, marred from his heroism from the tales of the Titanomachy, with a gash that began above his brow and cut through, curling into his cheek. His bravery had been rewarded with his kingship of the Gō vys and a brilliant sapphire stone that was set into his scarred socket.

Cold and stern, was often used, a firm accountability held for the laws held. Monstrous. Menacing. She assumed these descriptors were spoken by cowards, for all she could see was an esthetical deity.

He towered over her, his arms were tucked behind his back and it emphasized his broad shoulders. Silver scars littered over, brilliant streaks in contrast to the plum chiton draped over his lithe figure with golden thread knotted around his slender waist. The dark tones he wore gave a luminous intensity to his alabaster skin, like a godly beacon in the realm of grey.

He kept his distance, but she saw his head tilt from the gleam of the red ruby set in his crown and the soft glimmer of his silver tresses that spilled forward with his subtle movement.

“I have come to ask you something,” she continued, her voice unsteady, but her eyes boldly returned his steady gaze.

There was a haunting beauty to the mismatched coloring of his stare, his lavender eye and the glint of his sapphire eye, that caused her heart to reverberate within her chest.

“You traveled all this way to ask me a question?” His baritone continued and there was a flicker of amusement, the slight curl to his lips with his mellifluous words. “Please ask so I may best assist the goddess of spring.”

She felt the flush of pleasure. He knows who you are, the thought flutters throughout her head and she cannot stop her smile. “I wanted to ask if it was at all possible for a soul to be returned to the mortal realm?”

A low hum rumbled in the back of his throat and he took a deliberate step to close the space between them; the flicker of amusement is gone, his expression now as cool as the marble it was carved from. “This cannot be done, little goddess,” his silver words carefully chosen for his silver tongue. “It is the fate of every mortal to die and once that threshold is crossed, they cannot return to that life.”

Her renewed grief comes with its sickening hold, clenching her heart and the threat of tears pricked her eyes. She swallowed thickly, only then breaking her bold stare and instead she looked over the spirits that continued forward, awaiting their turn to cross.

It should have been me.

“Who did you lose?”

His soft tone pulled her attention back and she can see his brow is furrowed. “My friends,” she refused to cry in front of the king, no matter the kindly concern etched onto his features in the moment. “They were taken suddenly and do not have the gold to pay the passage.”

He hummed a second time, still low but thoughtful. “They are not yet lost, little goddess,” and the familiar curl of his bow lips gives her the flutter of hope. “Come back tomorrow and we can see what may be done, but,” his gaze rolled over her, locking onto her face once again. “I would advise not to return empty handed when you come to beg a favor from the king of the Underworld.”

+ + + + + + +

He dared teased the goddess of spring and then he relished in her response to the reminder of such a timeless courtesy. The rose coloring flushed her ivory tones, her embarrassment clashed with the thrum of her vitality beneath and it brought out the sun speckles across her nose and cheeks.

How divine the thought of his lips to kiss each one.

She left chagrined and he was certain he would not see her again, save the movements when he would slip to the surface for a reprieve from the dead, a shadow in watch of the gods who resided in the mortal realm. He had not expected her to return the following day and with a basket she showed was filled with delicacies of cheeses, olives, figs, and more.

He saw her coming, her steps almost familiar with the pathway that led to his realm. “You returned, little goddess,” it was a statement more so than a question.

“I have, Aïdōneús.”

Aïdōneús. A name long forgotten, spurned from the fear it held amongst mortals, but she was dauntless with her pronunciation, just as she was bold with her stare. It was the sweetest sound, both familiar and unfamiliar, a sound that he would spend his immortality to follow its every behest.

Even though her tone was cool, he noted her white knuckled hold on the wicker basket. “I have returned and I have brought you an offering,” she continued, shifting her weight to rest it on her hip. “You also may call me by name or you may call me Kore, if you desire.”

Desire. There is an unbridled fervor in his gaze as it rolled over her curves, so sinfully wrapped in the peplos linen but his posture remained reserved, his arms crossed behind and one foot stanced.

“As you wish, Kore.”

He did not say another word and his hand reached for hers; he was pleased that she took it without hesitation and his skin prickled from the warmth of her palm. He whisked her forward and he felt her grip tighten, looking back to see her eyes wide from the abrupt movement. He pulled her closer to his chest, his other arm wrapping around her waist with a firm hold.

He brought her to a pomegranate tree that is curled on a ledge overlooking the knolls of silver grass, decorated with aimless spirits.

There was almost an ache when he released his hold and he kept his arms open, watching to make sure her steps are balanced on the solid earth. “I apologize,” his voice was almost sheepish with his realization. “I am so used to getting around and I forget…”

He is grateful that she does not press him to finish his thought. Instead, he fell back and watched as she spread the cloth, the white billow of fabric that settled on the ground, and placed the basket in the center. She offered to pour him a glass of wine and only then does he take a seat, breaking the bread, while he shared that their view is the asphodel meadows where good souls reside, a neutral ground for peaceful spirits.

He wanted to bring her here and show her. “This is where your friends will eventually be,” he finished, lifting his goblet to his lips.

Her eyes watched the bob of his neck as he drank the wine and she admitted, “This seems so dreadfully dull for the good souls.”

“They no longer have the tedious shackles forced on them from the mortal realm,” his lips curled upwards with his further explanation. “They feel nothing and this allows them contentment to wander these fields.”

Her nose scrunched. “I understand this,” she breaks a piece of the bread, allowing the wine to dye it red. “That, however, does not change my initial opinion.”

This is a moment that broke through the kingly demeanor that he carried with his every step, his every movement within the cosmos. She watched, wide eyed and rosy, as his laughter lines his cheeks with dimples, the king of the Gō vys has dimples! She savored the genuineness of this moment and she cannot help but giggle as well. “It is beautiful, though,” she continued with a shy smile. “I see why you chose this spot.”

His demeanor darkened and he smirked. “Kore, this pales in comparison to your springly creations. I only brought you to show you the bit of vegetation that can survive within my realm.”

She tilted her head upwards, looking at the deep burgundy of the ripe pomegranates that hung low on the branches. “Are they edible?”

He leaned onto his side, propped up onto one elbow and his fingers traced the decoration of the gilded goblet. “It is, but without the same savory flavors as,” and he gestured towards the basket that slowly empties with their picnic. “There is a cost of their consumption,” he cannot help the edge of bitterness to his voice.

Her eyes widen, not with fright but curiosity, to the animosity of his words. “What is the cost?”

“Anything eaten or drank chains you to the realm,” he answered, solemn, and was surprised by the glint in her eyes.

It draws his gaze to her and, again, he can see the thrum of her ichor beneath her ivory skin, her eyes focused on him and framed with dark lashes, her stare as dauntless as earlier.

“It is the cost to rule a kingdom,” she offered, blinking and it is seemingly gone, her expression now doleful as it looks over the silver hills that spread infinitely before them. “It is better than to be destined to be the forgotten goddess, tied to her mother’s shadow and just a decoration who nurtures flowers.”

He was watchful in this somber moment; there was a silence that was not uncomfortable, but he felt the returned fervor from before to ask more, to understand more. There was a tingle in his fingertips to reach for her hand, to knit his fingers so perfectly with her own, just so she may remember she was not alone.

Instead, he waited.

She pulled herself to stand and reached her hand towards him, the radiance of her smile returning, a divine glow amongst the eerie meadow. “Come and show me more of your kingdom.”

And he obliged her.

+ + + + + + +

Time, she learned, was different in the Underworld.

She allowed herself to tour the Gō vys, tucked so close to his side and allowing him to show his kingdom, from the Asphodel to the Erebus, to watch the passage of Acheron and learn the ferryman was men, twins who let a foolish misunderstanding result in the simultaneous slay and he offered them an alternative to serve him. She met Vhagar, the rumored three headed beast who in truth wished for belly rubs and she happily inclined.

There was a panicked realization when she resurfaced and saw the moon bore overhead. Her steps were quick homewards, muttering prayers to Gaia, to Rhaenys, to whomever was listening and she begged her mother would be unaware of the time lost.

“You smell of death.”

Rhaenyra was the golden goddess of harvest and fertility, her mother the very embodiment of the sacred laws of the cosmos. Her eyes narrowed on her arrival, but she managed only a hint of anger to touch her overwhelming interrogative tone. “Where have you been, Kore?”

She hummed a lie, something enough to dissuade further suspicion her mother may hold, just a silly little goddess who had gotten lost within the cosmos. She continued to add another promise she would never dare return.

This was another lie.

“Aïdōneús,” she greeted him the next day and was pleased with his expression, which was almost incredulous at her return.

“Kore,” he responded with the same warmth, the curl of his lip when he reached for her hand. She allowed him to take it without thought, a blush crept over as he brought her knuckles to his lips, the tickle of his breath to her skin. “Please, I meant to say this yesterday,” he did not release his hold, his dichromatic gaze watchful. “You may call me just Aemond, if you wish.”

“Aemond,” and she said his name with the same sweetness and reverence, enjoying her familiarity with the king and how the rose color dusts his cheeks when she repeats it. “I admit, I have come to ask another favor.”

“More souls you wish to return to the mortal realm?”

He regretted his words the moment they left his lips, when he saw the pain that danced across her eyes. His apology was caught in his throat, the explanation for his tasteless jest, but she already shook her head and that pain was gone.

“I wish to show you a place that is dear to me,” but her tone is careful. “Are you able to come with me to the mortal realm?”

I would go anywhere you asked of me, he does not say and instead he nodded, the shimmer of his silver hair. “I can leave, though not for long periods of time,” he shifted his gaze. “It is a tether to the Underworld. There is a pull, almost an ache, that grows the longer I am away.”

A smile returned to her lips, pink and inviting. “I will not keep you too long from the duties of your kingdom,” she promised and offered her hand to him.

Traveling within the Gō vys requires a celerity to his movements; there is a rush of wind with his quick motion from one place to the next, whereas she seems to frolick, pulling to keep him at her pace as they flit from the shadows and move towards a small isle. At first glance, it only holds the wreckage of the temple to appease the averter of evil, its ruin ironically from a temper tantrum of the gods.

“But why here?” Aemond was curious as he looked over the cracked stylobate and the broken pillars split, with stone embedded into the soft earth around them.

“There is beauty in the broken,” she smiled and pulled him to follow. “After Daemon and his temper tantrum, the mortals abandoned it, but I wished for it to blossom with new life.”

He watched her climb over a fallen pillar and she peered up to him, beckoning him to follow. He dropped softly at her side, while the soft echo of her words, there is beauty in the broken, remained in his ear. Aemond saw her focus was ahead and he followed her gaze.

His eye followed the curl of a turquoise moss that curled and decorated the stones, blooming with pastels. It continued to the reflection of the morning dew glittering off the almost iridescent petals, gleaming brilliant in the rising run; it showed the sea scheme of colors that stretched around them.

She was the goddess of spring, of vitality personified, and he is the darkness. But in this serene moment, there was an emotion, an almost tangible passion that entangled with the ichor of his veins when she reached for his hand again.

There was a spark as their palms fit together, as his slender fingers curled around her hand. “It is beautiful,” he said and his tongue wet his lips.

She peered at him, the flutter of her own heart when she saw how his features softened in the intimacy of the moment, a satisfaction to be privy to the reserved pleasure that played on his face. There was the intrusive thought that begged her to touch his jaw, to press up to her tiptoes and dare to taste his mouth, and she wished to bring back a piece to his kingdom, just so she could relive the hint of his smile on his lips.

“It is,” she agreed, tucking the thought away.

+ + + + + + +

That night, she tucked herself into the athenaeum to pour over the scrolls her mother stored away, with Rhaenyra both pleased and proud of her rekindled passion for her role within the cosmos.

Kore did not correct her. She needed her focus to return to what initially brought her to the Underworld, the fate she shelved and the growing burden with that neglect. She told herself that Aemond would be more amenable with an offering more tailored for the god of death, but in truth, she also wished to understand the growing thrum beneath her breastbone whenever she was within his proximity.

There was a simple spell that would serve both.

Though he would never admit to waiting for her, she was still pleased to see him on the edge of the plane, close enough for the sunlight to touch and give an ethereal glow to his chiseled features. There was a gentle breeze through his silver, silk tresses and she stopped her steps so she could admire him, the glimmer.

He tilted his head. “Kore, what is it?”

“Aemond,” she breathed. “You really are beautiful.”

His jaw steeled with the compliment and she was quick to grab his hand, leading him below like a silver beacon into the blue hue of the Gō vys. Once they were in the shadowed realm, she turned to press against his chest, her softness melting against him and with her whisper, “Aemond, take me back to the meadows.”

He, of course, obliged her.

There was a comfort with how his arms, so strong and lined with silver scars, wrapped around her waist with a hold she knew could be trusted. The jarring movement still caused her stomach to lurch, but it was quickly replaced with the exhilarating rush and her laughter spilled from her lips. Only when she felt the tickle of the silver grass beneath her soles did he finally release his hold of her and they were back beneath the pomegranate tree.

She curled with grace onto its roots and beckoned him to follow. He paused for a moment to appreciate how her robes nestled against her curves before he sits, close enough, with one leg up to rest his forearm on and the other arm pressing himself upright, his palm resting on the earth. His expression begs curiosity, but he is quiet.

Kore and her sweet smile elicited his hummed response and he watched as she began to rub her palms together. A soft glow emitted between and her focus returned to Aemond, a golden goddess with the light, before she pressed her hands to the ground. Her eyes closed for a moment, her thoughts poured into the practice incantation with the wordless flutter of her lips.

She opened her eyes and smiled again, his gaze shyly dropped to watch her hands lift and reveal the bolt of green that begins to stem upwards. He watched as its leaves unfurled and the red bulbs bunched together began to blossom.

His expression is one of awe, his jaw slack from seeing the life sprout from the grey earth and flourish with color before him. Aemond looked pained when she reached to pluck one, cupping it in her palms with a whisper, the same golden glow, before she presented him the enchanted flower, the petals unbruised and a vibrant red.

“This will match the ruby in your crown,” she explained, shifting her weight to look at him.

His expression was stoic, just a red reflection in his sapphire eye. “What are they called?” He asked when she opened his palm, his fingers spread as if his touch would shatter it.

“These are called snapdragons,” she shared, her pride aglow with her creation, her validation. “They are able to handle the cooler weather, but their lifespans are not very long, which is why,” and her fingertips tickled his palm as she picked it up, careful to pin it to his chiton, “I made this one for you. This one will never wilt.”

His gaze fell to it, his slender fingers pressed into the fabric around where she snugly fastened it, still cautious to touch. “Is this magic?”

He did not see the touch of pink to her cheeks, how she hemmed for her words to reply to him.

She sought out this spell in the archives of her mother’s anethum, that would allow a flower to eternally hold its blossomed vibrance with a condition in place, an emotion from the spellcaster, something that hinted its existence from the day they spent together at the temple.

An emotion she felt irresolute to share now.

She had thought it to be carnal at first. Desire, the unbridled passion that hummed within her when she first laid eyes on the god of death and his aery beauty. It was a fervor that burned within her as she drank his deliberate movements, the glimmer of his silver hair, the perpetual smirk that played on his pink, bow lips.

This will fade, she told herself. She returned, undeterred and with purpose to save her companions, the fate that brought her to the Gō vys to begin. With her offering rested on her hip, she allowed herself to be swept away in his arms, flitting further into his kingdom. It was his touch that sparked something more, the sweet candor of their conversation, how she swore his steady gaze able to see her bones beneath.

She felt confirmation at the temple ruins, from the moment she watched the colors of her masterpiece absorb into the exquisiteness he carried with him. She saw something, she felt something.

There is beauty in the broken.

He was a timeless deity that had seen the fall of Titans and she was only the little goddess of spring.

In part, she was proud of her power that grew, the vibrant glow of the snapdragon, but she also knew it stemmed from an emotion from her that he would never reciprocate.

So all she said was, “Yes. Magic.”

Her cheeks grew warmer still with his steady gaze, her silent prayers that he would not press for the truth of it because she knows she would never be able to lie to him. Aemond seemed to accept the words and then said, “I accept your offering, Kore. Tell me your favor and I swear I will do the best that I am able.”

So she spoke of the fate that brought her to the Underworld. “I wish to pay the passage for two souls.”

Her question did not anger him, but there is a sadness that crept to his features. “Kore, I would not be able to allow this,” he sighed, unable to look her in the eyes. “If I am to make an exception for you, I would have to offer the same courtesy to the rest and…” there is a pregnant pause, a moment that allowed her to choke on the emotion that threatened to break through and she saw the glimmer of silver when he tilted his head to watch her.

“Persephone,” he said with his low baritone. “Why do you ask for this? What brought you to my realm?”

She wore her shame like the chiton draped over her curves. Her tongue wet her lips as her mind tried for the words to express the suffocating guilt that built with her every visit. Begin at the beginning. On that day, there had been an enchanted flower that she and her companions, Baela and Rhaena, came upon.

“A flower,” Aemond hummed, his expression unreadable.

His comment left her feeling childish, ashamed to admit what followed. The flower seemed otherworldly, its petals glittered in the sunlight and beckoned to her, but she balked and stayed within the parameters Rhaenyra had placed. Baela and Rhaena teased at her sudden shyness, pushing beyond and dared to pluck it.

In return, the earth rumbled to split open and swallowed them both.

“I know that it was planted for me,” she finished, her fingers fidget with the rope tied around her waist. “What other purpose would an enchanted flower serve than to lure the goddess of spring?” Her cheeks were tearstained. “It should have been me.”

Aemond hummed again, the severity returned to his gaze and he looked away. She allowed herself a breath, the slow intake and exhale through parted lips, to relax her posture and rest her hands into her lap. He reached for her hand and she allowed him to take it.

It was with his touch that she could admit she loved him. There was a tenderness to his large hands, how his slender fingers were gentle to hold her own and the soothing gesture of his thumb making circular patterns on her palm.

“Kore,” he began and she looked up at him. “I will look further into this. I meant what I said that I am unable to return souls to the mortal realm, it is beyond my power, but I will find…” he hummed again. “Will you please come back tomorrow night?”

I will always find my way to you, but instead she only smiled, nodding her head.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #greek mythology hotd au #hotd au #aemond!hades #oc!persephone #slow burn #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #thanks for reading #♥

564 notes · View notes

priestvox · 2 months

Note

Serial Roommates

Guy really wanted to know why Lucifer disliked him so much. He can understand Husk since Alastor owns his soul, but hopefully Guy can convince Alastor to let his contracts go, eventually. But Lucifer was a different factor all together. Could it be his friendship with Alastor? He’s heard Lucifer and Alastor don’t really like each other, so it could be hatred of association kind of thing but he’s noticed how Lucifer treats Nifty and Rosie, so it didn’t make sense. Every time they passed each other, Guy would greet him but Lucifer would just give a dirty look.

It became more obvious whenever Alastor and Guy would plan an outing together. Show Guy around hell and reminisce old times, Lucifer would suddenly bring up a task that Alastor would have to do. Like the toilet’s clogged again, guest has an issue, you have paperwork to finish and etc etc. Once Alastor left to deal with one of the tasks, Guy decided to confront Lucifer.

Didn’t work in his favor as the fallen angel refused to even listen to him until he brought up the fact he was trying to redeem Alastor.

“What’s your problem with me? I’m trying to redeem my friend who by the way you hate, so if he gets into heaven you’re never going to see him again.”

Once he said that, Guy could hear a demonic growl and the whole room turned pitched black. The only light source was the glow of Lucifer’s eyes as they glared hatefully at the Angel and his horns already sprouted.

“YOU INSIGNIFICANT INSECT, YOU DARE PRESUME TO KNOW THINGS ABOUT ME?! IF YOU WEREN’T UNDER HEAVEN’S PROTECTION I WOULD TEAR OUT YOUR WINGS BEFORE EVISCERATING YOU!”

“Oh Guy, what did you do to make our majesty so riled up?” A cheerful taunting voice broke through the tension and suddenly the room was filled with light. Lucifer was back to form but still menacing look that promised suffering. He walked towards Alastor and said,

“Alastor, make sure to keep your dog on leash because next time I won’t be so merciful.” That was the only thing he said before he disappeared in red smoke.

👀

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #alastor #serial roommates #lucifer

71 notes · View notes

plutaztix · 2 months

Text

Finished first draft designs of the hazbin cast- Alastor., Charlie, Angeldust, Nifty , and Vaggie.

Some of them got minor redesigns while others got revamped, so I’ll be going down the line and discussing my reasoning for each one (please note, these are not perfect, and probably are not animator friendly, I did this for fun, and a lot of the decisions I made were because I felt like it. Do not throw a fit if you don’t like them)

Alastor- when redesigning alastor I focused on 3 major details: that he was from the 1920s-1930s, he was from the south, and that he was a “radio demon”. I took away the voodoo stuff cause that felt like a really weird way to associate him with Louisiana culture, and instead went for the more “southern gentleman” feel using the slicked back hair and simple clothes. I also replaced his monocle with a full pair of glasses, because I think not being able to see his eyes makes him more menacing, same thing with the straight teeth. I made his color palette into warm browns to kind of give the vibe of an old timey radio- with a highlight of gold as well. Side note: I like to imagine he doesn’t open his mouth, and instead it just lights up like an actual radio- cause I think that’s cool character flavor. I also kept his deer motif cause ,apparently, it was supposed to connect with how he died- plus I’m always a sucker for the kind of evil character that has an innocent animal theme, super fun. (Also his microphone is sentient and does change the text depending on the situation)

Charlie Morningstar- I think Charlie is a lovely character, she’s one of favorites, but she felt pretty plain in some aspects. I learned that she was kind of inspired by porcelain dolls, which gave me an interesting idea of making into kind of a “devils Pinocchio”- because what’s more innocent than a doll imbued with the power of her father’s dreams? So I really leaned into the soft friendly doll look, giving her ball joints and large eyes that stare into your soul. I softened a lot of her colors and gave her rounder shapes as well as leaning into the goat aspects of her character, because i thought it could be fun to have her play off the deer motif that alastor has.

Angel Dust- My boy , my good lad. He is also pretty solid when it comes to design , however- HE DID NOT LOOK LIKE A SPIDER. I had no idea that his freckles were supposed to be eyes until I rewatched it. Soooo I definitely tried to make him more spider like by making his eyes more prominent and giving him pointy side burns that act as mandibles. I also gave him him his spider butt and some weird ass legs. Oh and , unrelated, I like to imagine he does burlesque.

Nifty- MY FAVORITEE , I love nifty guys, she’s my POOKIE bear. When going into her design I knew I wanted to make her look older since I thought it was weird how much she was infantilized so I gave her lipstick and pearl earrings to make her look more like a refine 1950s housewife, as well as give her an apron and cleaning gloves to make her feel more like a maid. I also leaned into her subtle bug theme by giving her antennae, and giving polka dots on her dress for a very subtle lady bug theme (cause she’s my little lady). Some more small things I gave her a little swirl in her bangs to call back to victory rolls, as well as some subtle hints of green to call back to the uranium craze of that time.

Vaggie- she was difficult. Initially, I had no idea what I wanted to do with her, but I think that’s also because she’s not a very fleshed out character? Her whole story is kind of , Support Charlie and be a fallen angel.(still love chaggie tho) So I took some creative liberties, and gave her a more mature look- with some periwinkle to act as a subtle hint to her angelic nature. I also gave her the monocle from alastor design cause I thought it made more sense for her? Like, if anyone is gonna have the one eyed visual aid it’s gonna be the bitch with one eye. It also makes her look more matured? And I gave her a moth broach to call back to her moth inspo.

Annnd that’s it! I’ll be working on the next batch soon, which will likely have husk and sir pentious, if you have any other people you wanna see lmk!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin art #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel redesign #fypシ #helluva fanart #helluva boss #angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel nifty #fyp

65 notes · View notes

jazeswhbhaven · 2 months

Text

The Newest WHB Update!! 4.24.24

FIRST let's talk about the event story replays! I find this really nifty because at any time new players can come in and for a small amount of coin/cash they can buy whatever event they haven't played or if it's been played before a good refresher if you're really big on canon lore and having that in your memory banks.

I personally go over every event in depth with summarization so check my master list if you all ever wanna just go through my version of it and have a laugh or two while getting a good idea of what happened during the event! (notice they don't have the halloween event but my react is available) I didn't really go to check how much each story is for erolabs coins but I assume this is very low, like maybe $2 USD or less? per story, unless I'm wrong as hell and it's $5 or something lol still pretty cheap for wanting to replay the events. NOW let's go over the 'Realm of the Seraphim' level in Dark Sanctuary that just opened tonight. They lost me personally because apparently you have to have your nobles leveled up (at least three of them at lvl 30) to even start and....I'm currently utilizing all resources to max out my L cards first so I may or may not play this for a good minute. I think though this is a good way of obtaining seals without paying! That's the reward for winning the levels. But omg can I address the funny ass points in the little preview?

My Beel boo is so lovingly a menace it's funny. Because why is it that Levi and Bael are both getting on to him and he's just like :DDD I did nothing wrong I'm just here. (cutie) Also Levi...you fucking said that already as a warning and haven't done a damn thing so (≖︿≖✿) And poor Bael showing up because he thought Beel fucking wouldn't and then calling him out for asking why Raphael hates him so much.

oh boy we know why....

But Beel casually saying he forgot is so him. Because ofc you would forget.

I recorded the entire thing and I think I'm going to do an audio react for it, so keep an eye out for that. Otherwise, I'm off to play Leraye's event!!! ^^

-your lovely admin ♥( ˆ⌣ ˆԅ)

#whb #jwhbasks❓#what in hell is bad #whb update #whb game content #whb kings👑#whb angels

52 notes · View notes

dewdropdinosaur · 3 months

Text

Flush Little Baby, Don't You Cry

ALASTOR x READER

Summary: Alastor thinks your permanent blush is cute, similar to Charlie's even. But what if you aren't actually blushing at all his advances?

Warnings: Small mention of scars, allusions to death. Rating: PG

For the always lovely @anon-of-the-void Ask and you shall receive my dear!! Requests are still open - see pinned post for details!

In the chaotic space of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the swirling chaos of Hell, an unexpected connection began to blossom between Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, and you, a newcomer to the hotel's staff as a receptionist.(To which Husk was greatly pleased that now he could just focus on bartending and not deal with as many ‘idiots’)

Alastor, with his charismatic demeanor and macabre sense of humor, found himself strangely drawn to your presence. You were different from the other inhabitants of the hotel, having a quiet demeanor and gentle nature standing out amidst the cacophony of voices and chaos. However, neither of you had dared to voice romantic interest, both of you unsure of the other's feelings and your own.

It was during one of your chance encounters early on in the hotel's grand foyer that Alastor noticed something peculiar about you. Little red circles adorned your cheeks, slightly tinted whenever you smiled or laughed. Even when, and especially when, frightened - they glowed slightly. Alastor found himself captivated by this. At first, he dismissed those little circles as mere blush or simple state of your demon form similar to Charlie or Nifty, finding them endearing in their resemblance to the delicate flush that adorned his mother's face in his long-forgotten memories of his mortal life.To him, it was endearing, a subtle charm that only added to your allure and reminded him of a simpler time in his life that brought him a sense of peace and familiarity.

Because of this assumption, Alastor's fondness for you only grew, his interest piqued by the circle's presence. He found himself seeking out your company more often, engaging in lively conversations and sharing moments of laughter amidst the chaos of the hotel, just to see the cute flush of your rosy cheeks every time. The revelation ignited a fierce protectiveness within Alastor, a primal instinct to shield you from any harm that might befall you. He watched over you like a silent guardian, his presence a comforting shadow in the tumultuous world of the hotel.

However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the hotel, who watched with a mixture of amusement and bemusement as the usually aloof Radio Demon became fiercely protective of their new receptionist. Some whispered behind closed doors, speculating on the nature of your relationship, while others simply shook their heads in amusement at Alastor's unexpected display of strange affection.

As the days passed, you too began to notice Alastor's increased vigilance and protective nature. Sensing his concern, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. One evening, as the chaos of the hotel ebbed into a rare moment of tranquility, you found yourself alone with Alastor in his radio room, a perk that only you and Nifty enjoyed. It was a cozy tower despite its menacing metal exterior, with cozy chairs and vintage curtains. A lot like Alastor in a way, scary on the outside and maybe even the inside but something sweet and old was there too.

Taking a deep breath and mustering the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing on your mind, you spoke.

"Alastor," You began softly, voice barely above a whisper, "I noticed you've been... different around me lately. And I think it's because of these." With a hesitant hand, you gestured to the crimson circles on your cheeks that had remained beneath layers of uncertainty and shame. In your time in Hell, many had found out about the circles on your cheeks. And had left you for them. So you were worried about approaching Alastor on this subject to say the least.

Alastor turned his attention towards you, his crimson eyes softening with concern. "I assure you, my dear, it's merely a demon's instinct to protect those they care about."

You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at his veiled confession. You would note that for later. "I appreciate it, truly. But there's something I need to tell you."

With a gentle touch, you traced your fingertips along the scared cheeks, gaze meeting Alastor's unwavering stare. "These marks... they're not from blushing or simply a part of my demon state…. They're scars – reminders of a past I'd rather forget."

Alastor's expression shifted from curiosity to empathy as he listened to this confession. Suddenly it all clicked in his head. The way you would flinch when anyone would get too close too quickly, loud noises sparked the tint of the scars to glow, and how the scars moved with each expression you made. They stayed on your face 24/7 but didn’t shrink or expand like Charlie’s with each new expression. Instead they stayed stagnant and were less of circles and more oval shaped. Definitely not a blush or demon feature now that he had a closer look.

In fact, that cute little blush that he adored so much didn't happen within the circular scars on your face but around them. How had he been so blind? His shadows would mock him later for this.

"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mhmm, yet they do nothing but add to your fierce beauty my dear."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you met Alastor's understanding gaze. In that moment, both of you realized that despite the literal and metaphorical scars that haunted their pasts, they had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.

He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite his fearsome reputation. And this time, you didn’t flinch away but instead leaned into his embrace. It felt warm and comforting and he smelled like holiday cinnamon whiskey and pine. (Which my dear, as your sassy narrator I think sounds/smells like an Old Spice commercial but this is Hell and Alastor has no idea what that brand is)

And as you both sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Alastor's radio room, surrounded by the faint crackle of static and the soft hum of his radio, you knew that you had found a confidant in the enigmatic Radio Demon – someone who accepted your scars, both seen and unseen, and vowed to stand side to side with you no matter what trials lay ahead.

Maybe that half hearted confession Alastor made had some truth to it and maybe your confession was right around the corner too.

263 notes · View notes

realshadow01-blog · 3 months

Text

*Pop* just like a candy apple! {Platonic Radioapple!}

Introduction

|| Hello! I just wanted to say hello again as I've been gone for almost two years, I think. :3 I wanted to start writing again, for some reason, and it's 2:43am. I am not sure if I would post this or not, depends if I feel like it.||

|| Sorry for the absence, and if any characters are ooc (out of character) too! I have watched all of season 1 - but I can't capture the characters personalities that well. And sorry if my grammar or wording is bad, I don't know that much English as I thought. ||

|| This is a tickle drabble/short fan fiction post, and I don't expect any - but I will be taking requests for drabbles and headcannons! ||

>> || Summary for introduction: I do not know much English, I haven't captured the characters that well, this is a tickle-based, short fan fiction and I'm sorry for my (almost) two year absence. And, I am taking requests for drabbles and headcannons (no art or fics :<) || <<

|| Warnings (I guess!): Tickles, Swearing ||

---

So, the Demon is back again! Back again with a new sense of humor and a new ruthless torturing method. The Radio Demon is back! He's returned, what does it mean for a certain rival? Or a few?~ The future will decide...~

It was a surprisingly quiet day in the Hazbin Hotel. Everyone was either out celebrating or having a full day in bed after they defeated the Angels. People were bummed out, injured and flat-out exhausted.

Lucifer decided to stay at the Hotel for a while, or at least visit often, and he was watching TV in the common room as he held his most prized rubber duck. Charlie was out with Vaggie, Angel and Husk were out too and pretty much the only people in the hotel were Niffty, Alastor and Lucifer.

Alastor was nowhere to be found, I mean, where would you expect an unpredictable being like him to be?

Nifty was off cleaning.

You already heard about Lucifer.

That changed when Alastor's shadow crawled around the floors of the hotel, until he emerged from thin air. His grin was as sinister and menacing as always, although something was off. It looked slightly strained. He was preciously annoyed by another Overlord, but we won't get into that, but it could be why... He then went to go find Lucifer, for some reason.

Lucifer was throwing his rubber duck against the wall and catching it like a ball, abandoning the television so all it became was simple background noise. He continued to throw the rubber duck until it hit Alastor in the face.

“Oops....” Lucifer giggled mockingly, not in the slightest sorry, but decided to apologize anyway to make matters better for him, if they were becoming bad. Although, Alastor, in return, grabbed the rubber duck and crushed it in his bare hand, sensing Lucifer's infuriated pity, despite Lucifer showing no emotion whatsoever. “Was that necessary, Alastor?”

“No,” Alastor's grin grew as he threw the shriveled rubber duck aside, his radio filter still as strong as ever, “but I wanted to. Doesn't that seem fair?~”

Lucifer groaned, annoyed. “What kind of shitty question is that!?”

“A reasonable question that needs answering.”

“Well, I won't fuckin’ answer!”

“...”

“As you wish.” Alastor's grin grew, but still looked a little strained.

Lucifer, funny enough, saw his strained grin and smirked.

“Is the demon cracking at something?~ Are you pissy about your wound from Adam?~” Lucifer retorted, giggling, which absolutely broke Alastor's patience and before either of them knew it, Alastor had thrown himself at Lucifer and pinned him to the floor, scribbling his claws into Lucifer's sensitive, tender sides, earning a surprised squeal and a string of squeaky laughter. “EEK!!~ FUHUHUHUCK!!- ALAHAHASTOR!!??”

Alastor had just smirked, moving his hands to random spots to keep the short king occupied, sneakily slithering his tendrils to Lucifer and restraining him swiftly as the tips of the tendrils restraining him tickled into the crooks of his wings - the 'wings pits' if you will. No matter what they're called, they sent Lucifer into hysteria.

Lucifer's screaming, wheezing and frantic laughter could be heard basically throughout the whole of Hell from how loud it was. Alastor only had the slightest issues with that, so he closed some doors to prevent people from coming in, if they did try. “ALAHAHAHASTOR- WHEHEHEN IHI CAHAHATCH YOUHUHU ALAHAHASTOR!!- GAHAHAHA!!?”

That wasn't the worst of it, oh boy...

The main reason the phrase “Lucifer's screaming, wheezing and frantic laughter could be heard basically throughout the whole of Hell” was used because it was the truth. Not only was his laughter loud, but Alastor had been devilish enough to broadcast his laughter live! :)

“Go on, Lucifer,” *Alastor smiled menacingly, voice hushed, “Make the microphone pop like a candy apple...~” He teased, leaving him to face the torture and humiliation for a bit.

---

hope this was good!! sorry if it was short, i was pondering over a draft from a year ago and I haven't written a fan fiction in a hot minute >.<

{This MIGHT have some more parts!!!}

#hazbin hotel #sfw tickling community #lee #ler #lee!lucifer #ler!alastor #hh #hazbin hotel tickling #hazbin hotel tickles #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #ticklish!lucifer #i love this ajejjasjs #radioapple #appleradio #drabble #tickle fic #fluff?

80 notes · View notes