Hello! I've been reading your Alastor series closely and I absolutely adore it! Your writing is phenomenal, and so far your depictions of the characters are pretty spot on. I'm here to offer some feedback, as you asked at the end of chapter two. The only thing I can think of is to dial back the amount you describe the characters. The visual description is appreciated, but there is a LOT thar you've said about their appearance. I recommend that after you introduce them, mainly focus their movements and facial expressions when talking to main character (for note, often referred to as MC). Offer more of a look at how the characters are talking, their tones mostly. Aside from this I have nothing else to report. Wonderful work, and I look forward to the next chapter!
Thank you so much for your thoughtful feedback and for being such a dedicated reader! Oh gosh, I don't quite feel deserving of such high praise for my writing, but your kind words truly mean the world to me 🥹 Maintaining their canonical accuracy is a priority for me, so it's incredibly gratifying to know that you've noticed and appreciated that effort 🥰
Your advice to scale back the detailed descriptions of their appearance in favor of highlighting more subtle aspects is incredibly insightful! With that in mind, I actually cringed at the realization that I dedicated multiple paragraphs solely to Alastor's appearance 🤦🏼♀️ Womp womp. I guess I'm just a simp at heart. From a writer's standpoint, I suppose it's easy to become absorbed in unnecessary intricacies of the story, often without even noticing until it's brought to attention by someone else. Just another case for why I desperately need a beta reader, haha. I'll certainly keep your words in mind going forward to adopt a more balanced approach!
I'm truly grateful for your encouragement and constructive feedback. Your insight will undoubtedly help enhance the storytelling in future chapters. It's readers like you who help me improve as a writer and in making the series even more captivating😍 I truly appreciate your support and can't wait to share the next installment with you! Thanks again for taking the time to share your thoughts! 💜💜💜
Chapter Warnings: Reader experiences intense feelings of anxiety, discomfort, fear, and unwanted attention from a certain Radio demon.
Startled by the unexpected greeting, you pivoted swiftly in search of the elusive voice. Given the distinct static overlay accompanying the speaker, you initially anticipated seeing an antiquated television or vintage radio. However, to your astonishment, the origin was far more ominous.
The towering, gaunt figure before you exuded a distressing aura, his malevolence etched into every line of his sinister visage. As you examined him further, a labyrinth of unique features unfolded like a tapestry of the macabre, each detail more entrancingly unsettling than the last.
His penetrating leer felt like it could scorch the very depths of your soul, his eyes smoldering with an otherworldly crimson fire. The blood-red sclera lent an eerie depth, complemented by cinober irises that glowed with a supernatural intensity. Thin black pupils, sharp and unwavering, bore mercilessly into whosoever dared to meet his gaze. A burgundy oval-shaped monocle rimmed with sleek black adorned his right eye, adding an air of sophistication to his countenance.
A mischievous, broad smile unfurled across his face, a wicked crescent that exposed a set of teeth colored like sulfurous flames—sharp, pointed, and reminiscent of shards of amber. Each tooth, a gleaming weapon, hinted at a predator's cunning, a testament to the calculated danger that lurked behind the veneer of his baleful grin.
Crowning his head, peculiarity manifested in an unconventional hairstyle—an unruly cascade of fiery strawberry-red, meticulously cropped with a rebellious flair. The tips, dipped in the deepest black, created a striking contrast. Two audacious tufts of hair, tipped in the same jet black, extended defiantly from the apex, creating a distinctive silhouette, adding an almost devilish semblance.
Perched atop this vibrant display were two small, elegant black antlers—a subtle yet distinctive touch that further emphasized his unearthly presence. Together, the hairstyle and the antlers wove a tale of defiance and mystique, marking him as a character who embraced the havoc within, turning it into a crown of eccentricity.
His attire, further validating his enigmatic persona, consisted of a carmine pinstripe coat and dark cherry lapels lined with stark white; the garment exuded an air of both elegance and decay. Torn and ragged along the hem, it hinted at a history filled with battles and untold challenges. Beneath the coat, a bright red dress shirt with a bold ebony cross on the chest hinted at more profound symbolism. A black knotted bowtie with a ruby center adorned his neck, giving the apparel a subtle touch of formality.
His hands, sheathed in sable gloves, each fingertip adorned with a flash of dramatic scarlet, adding a touch of theatrical flair to his gestures as though every movement was part of an elaborate performance. Completing the ensemble, obsidian pointed-toe boots at his feet, their tips dipped in a fiery red, as if the ground itself ignited in his presence.
Maintaining a poised stance with impeccable posture, he stood with shoulders pulled back and chin elevated in a decorous and dignified pose. One arm rested gracefully behind his back, enhancing the implication of formality. At the same time, the other gripped a staff crowned by what looked to be an unusual microphone fixture, hinting at a strange fusion of worlds in his grasp.
This ambiguous figure stood as a walking paradox, a haunting blend of elegance and menace, sophistication and chaos.
Sensing your trepidation, his grin widened even further into a wicked expression that seemed to relish in your stunned reaction as well as the element of surprise. “Tongue-tied already?”
Apologizing nervously, you stumbled over your words and cleared your throat before mustering a hesitant greeting, "Um... hello."
"Delighted to make your acquaintance, sweetheart!" he exclaimed, extending his hand to clasp yours forcefully. The unexpected strength in his grip caught you off guard, smoothly drawing you closer—a bold move that sent a tingling sensation through you as you struggled to reclaim your composure. "Alastor, at your service. An absolute pleasure, I must say!"
A subtle crackle in the air marked a palpable shift, signaling a sudden transformation in his demeanor. In the blink of an eye, his welcoming host facade vanished. In its place emerged the persona of a beguiling gentleman, his intentions now veering towards the less honorable. Undeterred, he continued his greeting; his charismatic glamor, now laced with an undeniable allure, hinted at lurking danger beneath the surface. "And you, my enchanting mystery, what should I call you?" With a subtle yet commanding touch, he pressed a refined and tender kiss to the back of your hand, each second stretching into eternity as his intense gaze remained fixed on yours.
Despite your desire to reclaim your hand, it remained ensnared in his firm grip, rendering your haphazard attempts futile. Staring back at him, completely captivated, you failed to muster even the most straightforward responses, such as your own name. His aura derailed you far more than the demons you had encountered when you first arrived, surpassing even the ones who posed more direct threats.
Incoherent and nonsensical words stumbled out of your mouth, the quiver in your voice reflecting the unease that enveloped you in the magnetic field of his presence.
Growing impatient, the demon interjected, "Surely, you possess a name of your own. Come now, don't be a canceled stamp. What moniker belongs to such a captivating individual as yourself?"
As he continued speaking, you noticed his language unmistakably belonged to a bygone era. The vintage phrases and rapid-fire delivery echoed the dialogue of old black-and-white movies you had encountered over the years, particularly those with brisk and lively commentary.
His manner of speech carried a peculiar mix of disconcerting enticement, seamlessly melded with his overall style and disposition. A fleeting thought crossed your mind, contemplating whether it was a carefully crafted act or if he could indeed be a relic from the 1930s. In your current setting, where boundaries between eras blurred, the possibility of him being a genuine product of the past could be as likely as any other extraordinary occurrence in Hell.
Drawing a deep breath to steady your nerves, you eventually yielded, surrendering your name to the demon. Alastor, as you now knew him, flashed his ever-present grin, the twisted mirth dancing in his eyes as if he had just secured a coveted prize. The lobby's light seemed to flicker in tandem with the sinister satisfaction on his face.
"Why, that's absolutely delightful," he declared, testing the sound of your name on his lips. "It just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? Splendid! Now, forgive my curiosity, but you don't strike me as a local." It was challenging to focus on his words as Alastor's eyes bore into yours, like embers dancing in the shadows. His impeccable manners and theatrical gestures were a stark contrast to the ominous air that surrounded him.
Collecting yourself, you felt your pulse quicken as you stammered, "W-what gives you that impression?" It was a feeble attempt to challenge his assumptions, but even as the words left your lips, a moment of realization struck, making you feel somewhat foolish. The truth was painfully obvious – you were undeniably human, not a demon. The air around you seemed to tighten with an awkward silence, a palpable acknowledgment of the absurdity that hung in the space between you and Alastor.
"Well, my dear," he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes, "first and foremost, you're alive. There hasn't been a living soul down here in… well, ever, to my knowledge. Your heartbeat practically sings in this abyss of torment!" His tone carried a mix of mischief and genuine fascination as if he had stumbled upon a rare and captivating treasure. "Quite the twist, isn't it?"
Another chill crept up your spine, the realization settling in that Alastor's interest extended far beyond mere pleasantries. Each syllable he uttered bore the weight of a concealed agenda, leaving you to navigate the labyrinth of his enchantment cautiously.
"Secondly," he continued, visibly unfazed by your gawking stare, "You're quite noticeably average. Hell is brimming with anthropomorphic beings. I regret to inform you that you stick out rather drastically. If your intention was to be discreet, it appears you're off your trolley!"
Perplexed, you furrowed your brow. His attempts at communication through outdated terminology failed to resonate and left you even more bewildered. "Sorry, what?"
He laughed heartily in response to your evident confusion, delighting in the disorientation you were experiencing as he playfully tapped the microphone on the top of his staff. "Hello! Is this thing on? Can you read me loud and clear?"
Battered by the relentless onslaught of mayhem and Alastor's nonsensical banter, you felt your sanity teetering on the brink of collapse. The unyielding pandemonium you had continuously endured was reaching its limit, and the existential panic lingering in your mind was now threatening to surface. You felt the unraveling of your composure, desperate for a moment of peace.
Sensing the strain on your waning mental stability, Alastor abruptly ceased his heckling. A sudden stillness replaced the dastardly mirth as he offered assistance, his tone surprisingly gentle. "Forgive me, I've been a bit uncouth. I reckon you've had quite the day with all these novel experiences! What might I fetch for you to aid in a moment of repose? Some giggle water? A gasper, perhaps?"
Once again, the unfamiliar jargon failed to resonate, intensifying your confusion. The unexpected, yet supposedly sincere, offer of abetment from the intimidating demon further disoriented you. The interaction alluded to a hidden layer of complexity within him, contributing to the overall intrigue surrounding his character.
Despite your efforts to remain composed, a heavy sigh escaped you, vocalizing the frustration that had taken place within. Your hands found solace in cradling your head, a physical manifestation of the turmoil that enveloped your thoughts.
"Look, it's Alastor, right?" His nod of confirmation prompted you to proceed as you dropped your hands to a less manic stance. "Okay, Alastor. I'm sensing a disconnect here. I'm not sure if this—" you gestured toward him, observing the quizzical tilt of his head before continuing, "... old-timey persona is your 'shtick' or whatever… But, honestly, I can't deal with this right now. While I appreciate your hospitality, up until earlier today, everything in my life was perfectly normal. Now, I'm trapped in some bizarre cartoon universe filled with humanoid monsters who apparently want me dead, and I'm having a hard time coping. So, could you give me a minute? Please?" The pain in your voice was evident, a desperate request for a moment of calm amidst the surreal madness that had become your reality.
A profound silence settled between you. Alastor's piercing gaze carefully scrutinized you while he pondered your words. While his perpetual smile never faltered, a subtle nuance in how he regarded you conveyed a hint of disappointment. It was as if he feared he had inadvertently damaged his newfound source of entertainment before fully indulging in its potential.
"Dear, I was only–"
"You heard her! Back off!"
You and Alastor swiftly redirected your focus as a commanding voice resonated across the lobby. Emerging from the distance was a feminine figure resembling a moth adorned with long white hair elegantly secured by a vibrant cherry bow. A prominent X marked her left eye, accentuating her distinctive appearance.
As the figure drew closer, you noticed the disapproving scowl etched across her face, which looked pointedly fixed on Alastor. The tension in the air heightened as the unexpected ally intervened, her presence signaling a shift in the unfolding dynamic.
"Vagatha," Alastor greeted with cool nonchalance, an almost dismissive nod accompanying his words. "Right on cue."
"That's not my name," The moth-like woman mumbled under her breath, her narrowed eyes betraying a lingering suspicion. Yet, when her attention turned to you, her demeanor transformed. A warm smile replaced the scowl, and she placed her hands protectively on your shoulders, instantly creating a sense of comfort.
"I'm Vaggie," she introduced herself amicably. "Don't let this guy scare you off. Somehow, he wormed his way into becoming the hotel's Facility Manager, but that's on a probationary period. He's already on thin ice." Vaggie's gaze shot back to Alastor, a glare loaded with unspoken challenges. Alastor, however, seemed to relish in the confrontation, his eyes crinkling in mischievous glee.
"Charlie got held up on an important phone call, so she sent me to help get you settled until she can meet up with us. Come on, we've got a room ready for you upstairs." The promise of sanctuary in the form of a bedroom thrilled you, a welcome reprieve from the brewing storm in the lobby.
"Thank you, that sounds great," you agreed, your response punctuated by a nervous swallow. You were still attempting to stifle any apprehension triggered by Vaggie and Alastor's unique features. Turning back to Alastor, you offered a polite farewell. "It was nice to meet you, Alastor. I guess I'll see you around."
To your astonishment, you recoiled as his teeth seemed to sharpen even further, the unwavering smile on his face widening at your acknowledgment. "Oh, yes, dearest. Sooner than you think," he purred, his words dripping with a subtle menace that left a trail of anticipation in their wake. The air thickened as Alastor's gaze lingered on you, a predator watching its prey, as you turned to follow Vaggie towards the large, creaking staircase.
As you climbed the grand staircase, the glare of the lobby gave way to the soft glow of sconces that adorned the walls, casting flickering shadows along the ornate patterns of the carpet. The plush and intricate designs felt as though they absorbed the echo of your footsteps, creating an atmosphere of subtle refinement.
Vaggie led you through the upper landing, the ambience changing as you ascended. A faint scent of aged wood lingered, intermingled with the distant wails of Hell's tormented souls. It was a disturbing reminder of the realm you found yourself in.
"Your room is just down there," she said, her tone easing into a more casual cadence as she gestured ahead. The subtle tension of the encounter with Alastor seemed to dissipate with each step. "Sorry about that weird thing with Alastor. He's... unique. But don't worry, you're in good hands now."
The hallway unfolded as a corridor of opulence, with ambient lighting casting a vermillion gleam upon the dark, polished wood of the ornate doors that lined either side. Vaggie halted before a particularly imposing door, turning to you with a small, apologetic smile. "This is it. Your new home, at least for the time being." The door's intricate carvings and richly hued finish hinted at the luxury within, offering a glimpse into the mysterious haven that awaited you.
Entering the room, you were met with a surprisingly cozy atmosphere. The large bed dominated the space, adorned in rich crimson and gold bedding. Four beams stood proudly on each corner, supporting a black canopy that added an air of elegance. With their shears drawn, the two giant windows along the wall hinted at consideration for your well-being, shielding you from whatever horrors lurked below. Despite the obscured view, the city's lights cast a warm and inviting glow into the room.
A large, regal dresser stood proudly between the windows, a vast mirror attached on top reflecting the refined atmosphere of the room. Against the opposite wall, an armoire added a touch of vintage charm, and in the corner, a matching vanity whispered of bygone elegance. A door beckoned on the opposite end of the room, leading to your private en-suite bathroom.
Vaggie, her posture casual yet observant, leaned against the wall, her eyes following your every move. "It's not exactly the Ritz, but it's got its own flair."
You turned to face her, the weight of the day's events still etched on your features. "Flair might be an understatement, Vaggie. This place is..." You searched for the right word as you regarded the room. "Impressive."
She chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the quiet space. "Hell has a way of blending horror with splendor, doesn't it? Anyway, make yourself at home." Stepping back to survey the space again, you marveled at how it had met your needs and exceeded them.
Captivated by the allure of your new living space, you nearly missed Charlie's spirited entrance. Bursting through the doorway, her radiant expression illuminated the room like a burst of sunlight, and she greeted you with unbridled enthusiasm. "Welcome!" she exclaimed, extending her arms to accentuate her elation. "I hope that this space will suffice. If you need any other accommodations, I'm sure our gracious Facility Manager will happily assist!"
A derisive snort from Vaggie redirected your attention, her skepticism evident as she shot Charlie a sidelong glance. "Yeah, our 'gracious' Facility Manager has a knack for overstepping boundaries and could learn a thing or two about minding his own damn business. You're better off coming to me or Charlie for anything you need."
Charlie, undeterred by Vaggie's cynicism, chimed in with an eager smile. "Oh, we'd be thrilled to help with whatever you need!" Her eyes sparkled with genuine sincerity as she moved closer to Vaggie, intertwining their fingers as if grounding herself in their shared strength. As she took Vaggie's hand in hers, Charlie's gaze lingered with adoration. "Vaggie has done so much to help get this place up and running. She's not just my right hand; she's my better half."
Vaggie smiled sheepishly, trying to conceal her blush. Charlie planted a delicate kiss on Vaggie's cheek before turning her attention back to you, adopting a more serious tone. "Listen, I know this must all be pretty terrifying, and you must be so scared, but we've got you, I promise."
"Try to keep a low profile," Vaggie encouraged, placing a hand on her hip as she stood confidently. "Keep to yourself, avoid any potentially dangerous situations, and most importantly, stay away from the Shitlord. If you can do that, you should be fine until we can figure out how to get you home."
You blinked, puzzled by the peculiar term. "I'm sorry, the 'Shitlord'?"
"Alastor," she grumbled, ignoring Charlie's subtle scowl. "Our not-so-friendly neighborhood Radio Demon."
"Why should I avoid him?" you inquired, your interest piqued, especially after your earlier encounter. "If he's here helping to redeem sinners, he can't be that bad, right?"
The conflicting responses from Charlie and Vaggie painted a vivid picture of the polarizing figure that was Alastor. Charlie's eyes lit up with loyalty, defending the demon's actions, while Vaggie's glare spoke volumes about her mistrust.
"He's an ass," Vaggie stated bluntly, not mincing her words. It was clear she had little patience for the potentially problematic Radio Demon.
"He's not!" Charlie interjected, her tone almost pleading. "He… has a certain reputation, is all. I can't just assume that every demon that walks through our doors has bad intentions. We've got to give him a chance. He's been nothing but helpful since he's arrived."
Quirking your brow, you glanced back and forth between them as Vaggie rolled her eyes. "Charlie is endearingly optimistic."
As you observed the dynamic between Charlie and Vaggie, you noticed the subtle interplay of emotions – Charlie's infectious optimism and Vaggie's more cautious demeanor. The room's atmosphere shifted, transitioning from the initial excitement to a more serious undertone. The warmth of the welcome clashed with the ominous warning about the unpredictable Radio Demon.
Vaggie's gaze hardened as she met your eyes, a stern expression on her face. "Seriously, it's for your own safety. Alastor might come off as charming, but there's a reason other demons keep their distance. He's one of Hell's most feared Overlords. He's unpredictable, and you never know what he's up to. Just steer clear of him, okay?"
Charlie tried to diffuse the tension with a comforting smile. "We're just looking out for you. The Hotel can be hectic, and we want you to feel at home." Her words carried a gentle reassurance, attempting to balance Vaggie's wariness and her own hopefulness.
Vaggie sighed, a hint of frustration in her voice. "Just trust me on this one. He isn't just a happy face; he's a creep we've reluctantly allowed to help us. And the last thing we need is an innocent, unsuspecting soul falling under his influence."
A momentary flicker of doubt passed over Charlie's expressive eyes, but she swiftly regained her composure. "Alright, let's not dwell on this too much tonight. You must be exhausted," she said, her concern palpable. "We'll talk more tomorrow. If you need anything else, Vaggie and I are just down the hall, last door on the left."
"Got it," you affirmed, inclining your head in gratitude.
"Oh! And don't be alarmed if you cross paths with some of the other hotel staff," Charlie resumed, her enthusiasm returning. "Niffty is our diligent housekeeper, and Husk is our skilled bartender."
"At the moment, we only have two other guests," Vaggie chimed in, her tone more pragmatic. "Sir Pentious is usually occupied with his little minions and shouldn't be too much of a nuisance. Angel Dust is another story. If he bothers you, just ignore him. Or strangle him. Either one works."
"Will do," you chuckled, her attempt at humor injecting a welcome lightness into the atmosphere. "Thank you so much. I don't know what else to say. I'd probably be dead by now if you hadn't found me. It means a lot that you'd go through so much trouble for someone you don't know."
"Happy to help," Charlie replied, her sympathetic smile providing tender reassurance. "Get some rest!"
With those words, the two exited the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Eager for a distraction, you sauntered to the windows, drawing back the curtain and peering through the grimy glass.
Hell unfolded its macabre grandeur before your eyes. The twisted, decrepit structures that lined the streets challenged the laws of architecture. Each building, crooked and battered, exuded an eerie magnetism that hinted at the horrors within. The air was tinged with a paranormal quality, a discordant symphony of colors and shadows playing on the blood-splattered streets.
As you contemplated the surreal spectacle, a question involuntarily danced through your mind—what form would encapsulate your essence in this infernal realm? Would you morph into a whimsical creature, an embodiment of the anarchy that defined Hell, or perhaps manifest as an object reflecting the remnants of your earthly existence? The sheer absurdity of the thought evoked a quiet laughter that bubbled up from deep within, a coping mechanism against the overwhelming horror surrounding you.
"Remarkable, isn't it?"
The unexpected voice, a sinister melody that sliced through the eerie silence, prompted an involuntary yelp. You spun around with a start, almost stumbling over yourself, only to find Alastor standing in your bedroom doorway. The unnerving permanence of his smile rattled you while his eyes, gleaming with an otherworldly intelligence, seemed to leer at you.
"Jesus Christ!" you choked out, a hand instinctively clutching your chest to steady the frantic beat of your heart.
"Hmm… not quite," Alastor replied, his grin deepening, causing his eyes to crease with malevolent cheerfulness. "Forgive me, miss. A gentleman should refrain from intruding upon a lady's private domain. However, our earlier conversation was abruptly cut short, and I am not one to leave matters unresolved," he continued, twirling his staff with a casual flourish. "I would be remiss if I did not take advantage of this rare opportunity. Would you grant me the pleasure of your company, perhaps for a brisk stroll?"
Your eyes narrowed, wrestling with the uncertainty of his intentions. On one hand, curiosity was a shared sentiment; however, Vaggie had explicitly warned against spending any time with Alastor. Additionally, your suspicion that Alastor's interest in you concealed darker motives had only intensified since your previous encounter.
Observing your hesitation, Alastor's low, rumbling chuckle reverberated through the air like an ominous prelude, the static overlay even more prevalent than before. He casually leaned against the doorframe, his dark silhouette swallowing the feeble light in the room.
"No need to be so guarded, sweetheart," Alastor drawled, his voice an unnatural blend of charisma and menace. "I'm merely captivated by the anomaly of a living soul gracing Hell's grounds. You see, it's not every day we welcome a newcomer like yourself." Despite his attempt at reassurance, the room felt suffocating, as if his presence tainted the entire space. "You couldn't have arrived at a more intriguing time," Alastor continued, his eyes glinting with a vicious spark. "It seems fate has a sense of humor, placing a delicate creature like you amidst the chaos of Hell–and so soon after an extermination!"
Your eyebrows furrowed, skepticism etching lines on your face as you shot him a look that bordered on irritation. "Am I supposed to know what an 'extermination' is?"
"Sweet girl, an extermination is a grand spectacle of Hellish proportions! It's a symphony of destruction orchestrated to cleanse and reset the infernal balance," Alastor explained, his words dripping with macabre enthusiasm. The way he spoke made it sound like he reveled in the mayhem. "And you, my unsuspecting guest, have stepped directly into the aftermath."
Your arms crossed tightly over your chest, a mix of defiance and fear lacing your words. "Is this your idea of a sick joke?"
Alastor leaned back, a wicked grin still playing on his lips as if savoring the fear dancing in your eyes. "Who's joking?" he jested, his voice resonating with a chilling levity.
You eyed him warily, the manic in his eyes intensifying. "So, what's your role in all of this? Are you some kind of demonic tour guide or a sadistic host?"
He hummed softly as he mused. "Oh, you could say I wear many hats. But most importantly, for the time being, I'm here to make your stay in Hell as... entertaining as possible."
His words dripped with a malicious promise, each syllable carrying the weight of an unspoken threat. As he spoke, the air around you seemed to thicken with an unsettling energy, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were just beginning to scratch the surface of the twisted game that Alastor had set before you.
Chapter End Notes: Okay, I'm seeking honest opinions here... is my writing TOO complex? I feel like I'm using a lot of words that aren't used in everyday conversation, and I worry about any unsuspecting readers whose first language isn't English. It concerns me that they might struggle with comprehension and have it take away from their experience. I don't want to stress anyone out. Does that make sense? I'm an overthinker, so any feedback is appreciated!
Imaginary: Reimagined (Alastor x Fem!Reader) - Chapter 1
Story Introduction: HERE
Chapter 1: The Descent
Chapter Rating: Mature
Chapter Warnings: Threats of dismemberment and mentions of cannibalism
Agony. No other term could capture the intensity of what unfolded during your descent into the foreboding unknown. Moments before your world unraveled, unaware of the impending danger, you casually strolled through the aisles of your local thrift store, seeking something worthwhile. Then, fate led you to an old, retro remote control from the 1950s—a curiosity too enticing to resist.
Upon picking up the remote and pressing a button, a transformative force seized you. A radiant light engulfed your senses as you found yourself drawn into a vortex of swirling colors and shapes. In the blink of an eye, you were thrust into an expansive, uncharted void, your body feeling as though it had been torn asunder and haphazardly reassembled with each passing moment. It was a visceral, merciless sensation, an ordeal unlike any you had ever encountered and never wished to endure again.
After what felt like an eternity, you descended from the emptiness of space, your body sprawled across a rigid surface. Your head weighed heavy, and tremors coursed through your body from the shock of the experience.
With cautious curiosity, you extended your arms to explore your surroundings, hesitant to open your eyes and confront this unfamiliar environment. Your hand hovered in the air until your palms met a solid surface, confirming your presence on stable ground.
It was difficult to decipher the noises around you considering the overwhelming ringing in your ears. Listening intently, you could ascertain a clamoring of hisses and whispers staggered around you. Strangely, the thought of that brought you a modicum of comfort. At least you weren’t dying alone… if that was really what was happening.
Summoning every ounce of remaining energy, you strained to focus on the individual voices nearby.
“What is it?”
“Dipshit, what does it look like? It’s another sinner.”
“Something ain’t right. They’re too… normal.”
“Too ‘normal’? The fuck does that mean?”
“Look at them! They look like we used to before we croaked.”
“So… are they dead or alive?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”
“Have the rules changed?”
“Wait, has there ever been a living sinner here?”
“We should kill them, right? Or at least maim them?”
“Do you think there’s some kind of reward for turning them in?”
“Can we eat them?”
“Fuck yeah, at the very least we could gain favor with an Overlord for handing them over!”
“...Just a bite?”
It was a moment of utter disbelief. You were struggling to make sense of what you had heard. Could it be real? No, it couldn't possibly be. This surreal experience was undeniably overwhelming, and your mind must have been playing tricks on you. From what little you could deduce, there was a gathering of people surrounding you and attempting to discern each individual voice only worsened your already fragile state of mind. Surely, they couldn't be uttering such outlandish things.
Hesitantly, you dared to open your eyes, blinking repeatedly due to the unexpected brightness. Once your vision had acclimated properly, your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you. Everything was… animated. It was as if you had been transported into an actual cartoon. Not only that, but it also appeared that you were surrounded by bizarre and slightly terrifying anthropomorphic creatures. Oh, shit. What kind of drug-induced haze did you get yourself into? Did you unknowingly drop acid? Did someone sneak an insane quantity of magic mushrooms into your lunch? No, no, no, this couldn’t be possible.
Rubbing your eyes in bewilderment, you choked down a terrified sob before daring to look around once again. Much to your dismay, your surroundings remained the same.
As the surreal scene unfolded around you, grappling with its absurdity became an overwhelming challenge. A peculiar character advanced toward you, and in response, your instinctive reaction was to defensively raise your hands. Yet, as your eyes fell upon your own hands, a startled yelp escaped your lips. To your horror, they mirrored the animated and eerily two-dimensional nature of the bizarre world that enveloped you.
A wave of nausea swept over you, a sickening churn in your stomach as the surreal reality unfolded. The foundations of your understanding crumbled, leaving you in a disorienting state of disbelief. It felt like a twisted nightmare, an aberration that defied logic. The pressing question lingered: why weren't you waking up from this distorted dreamscape?
Continuing to survey the anomalous scene, your eyes locked onto one of the creepy creatures. Upon further inspection, she appeared to be a cross between a human and a snake, her eyes glowing yellow as she stared daggers at you.
“Where am I?” you questioned, your voice hoarse and thick with emotion.
The snake-girl cackled before hissing back at you, “Isn’t it obvious, girl? You’re in Hell!”
Hell? Is that what happened? You died, plummeted to Hell, and this was your eternal torment?
When you didn’t respond, one of the other creatures grew impatient, addressing you with a thunderous voice, “Why do you still look completely human? Are you alive or dead?”
“I don’t… I don’t know,” you murmured, shaking your head, still trying to cope with your current predicament.
Suddenly, you felt a firm grip on your arm as one of the beasts grabbed you harshly, raising you to your feet. “I call dibs! Finders keepers!”
“That’s bullshit!” one of the other beings snarled in return. “I saw her first!”
A tumult of heated exchanges echoed through the crowd, as each creature vied to claim you as their own. The air crackled with fervent disputes, some demanding specific body parts with unsettling propositions like, "Can I snag her left arm?" or "Dibs on her foot!" The macabre negotiations reached a disturbing crescendo, amplifying the sense of dread that permeated the surreal atmosphere.
Just as you teetered on the brink of a complete mental collapse, a distinctly light and feminine voice cut through the raucous crowd. "Everyone, stop! There’s no need for violence! Let’s keep our hands, claws, and any additional adjacent limbs to ourselves, please!"
The crowd quieted before they begrudgingly parted to reveal a far less terrifying-looking inhabitant, who, at first glance, seemed more human than the rest of the animalistic mob. She appeared to be a young woman with large doe eyes, long blonde hair, and red, rosy cheeks, giving her a somewhat innocent and endearing aura.
"There's nothing to see here, folks! The, uh… warm welcome for our newest sinner is appreciated, but she's coming with me," she declared authoritatively, though her demeanor was timid, as if she was nervously unsure of herself.
"Over my dead body!" one of the other creatures bellowed, followed by multiple jeers and agreement from the rest.
The young woman snarled, catching you off-guard when her face abruptly morphed into something else entirely. Horns sprouted from her head while her eyes glared with multiple shades of red hues. Baring sharp teeth, her menacing expression instantly silenced the others. After a brief moment, she effortlessly returned to her former and much less terrifying self. "As princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I hereby decree that this particular sinner is under my protection… um… until further notice. Okay?"
Without warning, you were harshly shoved from behind, causing you to stumble towards the proclaimed princess who had just declared ownership over you.
She met your eyes with a tender smile, placing a hand on your shoulder before leaning toward you to speak in a hushed voice, "You're safe now, I promise. Just follow my lead."
All you could manage was a shaky nod, still unable to speak, though you were relieved that she came to your aid.
As you and the princess distanced yourselves from the ravenous mob, a clamor of discontent echoed behind you. They continued to hiss and growl in disapproval, clearly disappointed that they weren't able to feast on your flesh and bones… or do god knows what else.
Your mind was foggy as you followed the princess to whatever unknown location she was leading you to. Dazed and feeling woozy, you struggled to comprehend your surroundings as you ventured further into what you now knew was Hell. As you repeatedly tried to pinch yourself awake, the realization dawned that this was no dream. Despite the absurdity, it felt too authentic to be a mere creation of your imagination. You couldn't have conjured up an entire world like this on your own.
"My name is Charlie, by the way," the princess greeted, cutting through the awkward silence. "Well, actually, it's Charlotte, but I prefer Charlie."
Barely managing a smile, you nodded again before stuttering out your name in return.
"It's so great to meet you!" she beamed, her smile radiating through the red haze of your surroundings. "So, um… how exactly did you end up here? We've never had an actual living soul… er… human here before! This is so crazy! Where did you come from?"
The princess struggled to contain her bubbling excitement, but her curiosity couldn't be withheld any longer. You couldn't fault her for it. Amid the overwhelming unease and apprehension, you found yourself equally intrigued by the denizens of Hell, their peculiarities and mysteries stirring a profound curiosity within you. Despite this mutual fascination, you struggled to articulate the questions that swirled in your mind. The challenge of navigating your bewildering circumstances left you grappling for words, making the prospect of engaging in conversation even more daunting.
"Honestly… I don't know how I got here. My recent memories are hazy, at best. The last thing I can remember is visiting an antique shop. Next thing I know, I'm plummeting through different planes of existence that I didn't even know existed before I eventually landed in a place comparable to Alice in Wonderland's drug-induced nightmares, all while simultaneously morphing into a cartoon."
The princess tilted her head, perplexed by your descriptions. "A cartoon?" she questioned tentatively. "What is that, exactly?"
You gawked at her for a moment. Did she really not know? "Um… it's what you are. A cartoon is an illustration. A drawing. An exaggerated caricature based on real-life people, places, and everything in between. You know… cartoons?"
She maintained a puzzled stare, displaying evident confusion as she struggled to comprehend the unusual juxtaposition between the two-dimensional and three-dimensional realms you poorly attempted to convey. Expressing such an unconventional concept proved to be a challenging task.
In an effort to bridge the gap, you highlighted the stark distinctions between your reality and hers. "Where I come from, everything looks different compared to this place. For starters, it's not as… red." Oof. You really needed to work on your descriptive abilities. "Animations are a mimic of reality, so to speak. The people and places they're based on are created by artists, and their purpose is usually to tell stories and entertain an audience. The way you and your world look… Well, it's what we call a cartoon. It's… difficult to explain."
Despite your endeavors, the intricacies of this explanation appeared to elude her, leaving an air of uncertainty. "I see..." she trailed off, clearly unsure of how to respond to that kind of information.
"So, uh," you stumbled, your hands awkwardly fidgeting as you attempted to steer the conversation in a different direction. "About those creatures back there—what's the deal with them? You look different from them. More like me, I guess?"
She smiled warmly at you, easing the tension a bit. "Those are Sinners, the inhabitants of this Ring of Hell. They were alive once, but now they're here in our Kingdom. Their appearance is less human-like because once the living descend to Hell, they become demons and lose some of their human attributes. They can be a little... aggressive." That was putting it mildly. "I look different because I'm not from the human world. I was born here in Hell."
"That's... pretty bizarre," you mused, the words more of a quiet reflection directed at yourself than a statement meant for her ears.
"Well, we can talk more about it later when you've had a chance to adjust. We're almost there!" she squealed with excitement.
"Where exactly are we headed?" you questioned, a tinge of uncertainty coloring your words as you debated whether to mirror her enthusiasm.
A discernible twinkle illuminated her eyes as she exclaimed, "I'm taking you to the Hazbin Hotel! It's the first-ever facility of its kind with its own demon-rehabilitation program!"
Charlie radiated pride as she spoke about the project, though the notion of a demon-rehabilitation facility in Hell struck you as nonsensical. "You have your own demon-rehabilitating facility? ...In Hell? Does that really work? I mean, isn't Hell supposed to be eternal punishment for whatever mistakes were made in life?"
"Well," she murmured shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before a surge of confidence overcame her. "It's still a work in progress, but I believe in it! In fact, we've recently employed some new staff members who are already providing some much-needed improvements!"
The entire conversation felt utterly absurd. In what twisted universe was demon rehabilitation a legitimate topic of discussion? Well, apparently, in this one. Wrapping your brain around the concept was a formidable challenge, and you harbored doubts about ever fully coming to terms with it. Nevertheless, this bizarre reality was your current existence, and accepting it became a necessary step if you wanted to navigate this unfamiliar terrain unscathed.
"Hey, for what it's worth, I find your mission really inspiring," you chimed in, making an effort to convey genuine compassion for her cause. "I mean, who wouldn't want a shot at redemption, right?"
Her hand found its way to her heart as Charlie bestowed upon you the most sincere and kind expression, releasing a sigh of relief. "Thank you, truly. I wish others were more optimistic about the idea."
As you strolled along, you observed Charlie's deliberate choice of secluded paths, steering clear of prying eyes and potential hazards. She offered a brief overview of Hell's districts, referred to by the various Rings. Gradually, she unveiled the revelation that you had landed in Pentagram City, situated within the Pride Ring. You had wondered if the other remaining Rings were similar to the one you found yourself in, or if they were perhaps better, or even worse.
"We're here!" Charlie announced with genuine excitement as you turned the final corner. Her demeanor exuded pure radiance, and you couldn't help but wonder how this gentle soul could possibly be the Princess of Hell. It made no logical sense. Then again, nothing about that day did.
Upon arriving at the hotel, you regarded the towering establishment in awe. It defied all logic, seemingly indifferent to the laws of physics, but such anomalies were par for the course in this cartoonish realm.
The majestic hotel stood as a resplendent and imposing structure. However, its grandeur was quickly overshadowed by an array of adjacent anomalies that seemed utterly out of place. Among these peculiarities stood a steam train engine, a massive dilapidated boat, a somewhat operational carousel, and an enigmatic blimp jutting out from the upper floors. Lastly, perched at the pinnacle, an old-fashioned radio tower bore a bright neon sign proclaiming 'On Air,' its luminosity likely visible for miles. The overall concept of the building evoked the imagery of a glitch in the Matrix, a surreal spectacle that defied conventional expectations..
Shaking off the initial stupor induced by the colossal structure, you trailed behind Charlie as she led you inside. The moment you crossed the threshold, you were greeted by a regal entryway that hinted at the grandeur awaiting you within. The architecture proved to be peculiar, to say the least, aligning seamlessly with the unsightly exterior. Everything within bore an exaggerated and uniquely eldritch stylization, a characteristic you found yourself gradually warming up to as you ventured further.
Advancing through the entrance and into the lobby, a mirror caught your attention from the corner of your eye. Approaching it with a mix of eagerness and trepidation, you swallowed hard as you braced to witness your body in illustrated form. When your reflection finally emerged, an unexpected burst of laughter escaped you. To your immense relief, you remained unmistakably yourself, albeit with features tweaked to align with the aesthetic of this newfound universe. The transition wasn't as jarring as you had initially feared, yet the surreal nature of the transformation lingered. Surprisingly, you found yourself navigating this unconventional reality with a semblance of sanity. Perhaps the expected delirium was delayed and would later emerge during a solitary moment of contemplation. Ah, yes, the impending existential panic seemed far more plausible.
Aware of the inner turmoil brewing within you, Charlie approached cautiously from behind, her voice soft and gentle, likely to avoid startling you. "Take a moment, okay? I'll go get my partner, and then we can figure out a plan of action together!"
Canting your head in agreement, you observed Charlie as she skipped down the hall and vanished around a corner, leaving you alone with a cascade of thoughts. What was your next move? How could you find your way back home? Was escaping this bizarre realm even within the realm of possibility? And, most pressing, how could the hopeful and sweet Charlie protect you from the barbaric monsters that seemed intent on your demise?
Amidst the torrent of questions and concerns flooding your mind, a sudden chill in the air seized your attention, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. Dismissing it as mere happenstance, you were caught off guard when a high-pitched ringing pierced the air, prompting you to flinch in discomfort. Scanning your surroundings, you struggled to pinpoint the source of the disconcerting sound.
Your unease escalated when a highly pronounced and static-filled voice, laden with malevolence, jolted you, alerting you to a foreboding presence behind you. "Well, well! What have we here?"
Story Summary, Introduction, and Expectations are posted below!
Chapter 1: HERE
Summary:
In an unexpected twist, a mystical device propels you into the vibrant, animated realm of Hazbin Hotel. Formerly an average human existing in live-action, you’re suddenly transformed into an illustrated being that has descended into the whimsical yet terrifying depths of Hell. Seeking asylum, Charlie and the other inhabitants of the Hazbin Hotel offer you refuge as you grapple with the mysterious force binding you to their fantastical realm. Meanwhile, Alastor, the enigmatic Radio Demon, takes a keen interest in you, presenting a tempting deal that proves difficult to resist. However, despite his alluring proposition, his ominous demeanor and menacing tendencies raise suspicions about his true intentions. As the journey through Hell begins, the animated abyss unfolds through a tale of emotions, mystery, and malevolent secrets yet to be unveiled.
Story Introductory Notes:
Update: January 2024
The original version of this story began shortly after the premiere of Hazbin Hotel’s Pilot episode in 2019. At the time, we had limited character backgrounds and lore to reference. Nearly five years later, we’ve finally gotten a series, and so much has been revealed! Naturally, elements of the canonical series and the characters have changed since ‘Imaginary’ began. Therefore, I’ve restructured each chapter to address loose ends, assist with flow, and ensure the characters are more true to themselves. The structure and plot are essentially the same, but far more descriptive detail has been added. I’ve altered a few aspects that needed updating based on what’s been recently revealed from the series and also from gained life experience over the years. Hopefully, the changes will reflect positively! Thank you to all of you who have stuck around from the beginning! You’re the real ones.
Author’s Note:
This version of Alastor will be as close to canon as possible with an exploration into sex-positive asexuality - more specifically, demisexuality along with aromanticism. I understand that this is a sensitive subject within the Hazbin fandom. If you're uncomfortable with sex-positive asexuals (FYI: asexuality is a spectrum), this might not be the story for you. That said, I want to assure all readers that I have written 'Imaginary' with as much care and mindfulness as I can while still practicing artistic freedom. In fact, I myself am on the spectrum. Additionally, I have received invaluable insight and perspective from my asexual and aromantic community to help guide my writing as the plot has progressed. No one's experience is the same, so please keep that in mind as you continue to read this unhinged piece of literature.
Please be mindful of the tags listed in both the general summary as well as before each chapter to indicate specific warnings pertaining to that particular chapter. This story is going to take a lot of unexpected turns.
I'm so excited for the new chapters that you're going to release. I literally binged the story and it brought me some inspiration to write again. Alastor it's pretty much my favorite character and you've written him well. In fact you've written all the characters well. I hope you do end up writing more I'm looking forward to seeing what you right next whether it be another chapter to imaginary or just something else entirely I'm excited! Keep up the good work even if you get a writing block! Much love and support - Rachael!
That makes me so happy!! I appreciate that so much. I hope that you enjoy the re-written chapters and the newer chapters to follow!
Apologies if I mistake you for someone else but I'm pretty sure you written one alastor x reader fanfic but it's where Alastor was summoned in the real world and meets reader and replaces her real friends with fake imaginary ones. and there is like rotten fruit and animals. They travel around places, and at one point, he gets the reader pregnant and eventually eats the child, and then does it again..
This is very out of character for alastor, but I really admired it. sexy dear man. I'm sorry again if I'm mistaking you for someone else, because I don't remember what the original name of the story was either, idk if it's still up though but that's okay I just wanted to get this off my chest.
Greetings, barking dog person! No apologies necessary. However, I'm afraid I am not the author you're thinking of. It sounds like a very intriguing story and I hope that you're able to find it again!
Holy fucking shit I recognise you On wattpad like I fucking love your Alastor x reader fanfiction so much from years ago, it's my favorite Alastor fic by far and I'm reading it for the third time.
This literally made me chuckle, haha! Heyyyy Wattpad friend! So glad you're here! Thank you so much for the kind praise. Your favorite though?! There are so many far better fics out there, but I am beyond flattered!
The big reveal? I'm working on a huge re-write. There are so many elements of the story that don't flow well, or I felt some of the characters were not true to their canon selves, etc. I'm adding a lot more detail and improving the language AND adding new chapters! The remainder of the fic is completely outlined and I have a plan to FINALLY finish it after leaving it open for all these years... oops.
Thank you so much for sticking around for all this time! I value you so much!!! <3
Summary: A strange device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional being that has been cast into Hell. Sinners and demons alike are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with sinister intentions.
Chapter Warnings: Explicit Language, Point-of-View Switch
Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12
Chapter Notes: I know it's been awhile, guys. For those of you who are still around, I thank you. I hope you enjoy this next snippet.
"Chaton" = kitten in French
A piercing scream echoed through the metaphysical shop as the Radio Demon entered, indicating the arrival of a potential customer to the shopkeeper. Alastor’s eyes narrowed on the shrill device that was used as a make-shift chime to alert the presence of patrons. Oh, how he wished those screams were real. He craved to hear those blood-curdling cries of agony and fear. It occurred to him then that he was long overdue for another kill…
“Welcome to Rosie’s Emporium!” A voice called from the back, interrupting his twisted yearning for slaughter. “I’ll be with you in a moment!”
“I’m in no hurry, chaton,” Alastor replied dismissively, scanning the array of whimsical and deadly items on the shelves.
“Oh, Alastor! Is that you?”
“It is, indeed!” he called back, running the tip of his finger along the spine of a book that held his attention before pulling back to smear the collected dust along his gloved fingertips. “How are you fairing on this fine afternoon?”
A slight, lanky character with sunken holes where her eyes should be, appeared from the back room. She was adorned with a frilly dress and an obscenely large and eccentric hat, which only emphasized her small frame. Upon first glance, it appeared that she was carrying a handful of freshly severed fingers. “I’m peachy keen, sweetheart. How could I not be? It is, after all, another glorious day in Hell!”
“You seem to be taking Franklin's departure quite well. Unaccompanied entreneurship suits you well, chaton,” Alastor praised, taking note of the radiant glow emitting from the emporium owner. Her previous business partner and fellow shop owner had perished during the most recent extermination. Just another victim the angels had claimed.
Rosie flowed gracefully across the shop, setting the bloody fingers down gently in a bowl for display before turning back to address her friend. “Well, you seem remarkably… shall we say, insouciant, for an overlord who believes that he can outsmart the King of Hell.”
Alastor halted his movement, though he gave nothing away in his expression. However, Rosie knew him well enough by now to notice even his most subtle tells. She was sure she saw something like amusement dancing in his red eyes.
The Radio Demon checked himself, purposely relaxing his shoulders while still maintaining his proper stance. “Why, I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
Rosie’s eyes began to narrow, apparently both taken aback and slighted by Alastor’s brashness. Would he dare keep something like this from her? Even when directly confronted?
“The human,” she snapped as if having caught Alastor red-handed in the midst of some juvenile gimmick.
Alastor paused, just long enough to appear caught off guard. He hadn’t quite been expecting that. After all, he hadn’t yet informed his friend of his nefarious plans.
“Pardon?” He questioned, hoping that she misspoke. Rosie’s expression turned into a scowl as she began to lose patience with Alastor’s portrayal of innocence. She knew better. Rosie glared blatantly at the Radio Demon in an attempt to emphasize her annoyance.
“Come, come now, Alastor. You cannot fool me. You know I’m usually impervious to empty gossip. However, you’ve been far from discreet. I know that you’re up to something incredibly naughty and I’m worried for you, sweetie.”
Alastor’s fingers flexed - an involuntary reaction in search of his staff. He was so used to having it at his beck and call. It had become an unconventional comfort to him during times of trepidation. Instead, Alastor threw his head back as he released a huff of laughter. “Chaton, there is no reason to fret. The human you speak of has been residing at the hotel that I have recently begun renovating. I have simply taken it upon myself to be a most gracious host.”
“Is that so?” There was an edge of astonishment in her voice as she shook her head with an awed expression, as if taking Alastor’s secret indiscretion personally. “I will say, she must really be something if you’ve already got your sights set on her. You’ve always had an eye for opportunity.” Her reaction actually made Alastor’s usual grin morph into a prideful smirk. If only she knew.
“My, my. Why so intrigued, Rosie, dear? If you were anyone else plaguing me with these iniquitous accusations, I would have to slaughter you where you stand,” Alastor warned. Rosie would have taken heed of Alastor’s threat, if it wasn’t for the fact that she knew Alastor would never truly harm her. Discipline her for heinous acts against him? Maybe. But, nothing that wouldn’t heal. “As it stands, I must find a way to silence these preposterous rumors you so speak of.”
“I know you like causing trouble, dear friend. As do I on occasion,” she answered with a sweet and cheeky smile, showing off her fangs. “But we’re already quite well established here in Hell. We’ve both done unspeakable things to attain all that we have. Greed is an ugly creature that doesn’t suit you, Alastor.”
“Ah. Yes, well, what can I say? I’m an ambitious fellow, “ he jeered, which was a vague truth. “Don’t worry, my friend. I assure you that whatever you’ve heard could not be further from the truth.”
Rosie eased her posture just slightly, though her scowl remained. “Well then, let me tell you what I think. I suspect that you’re up to your old tricks.”
“Cleverly deduced,” Alastor mocked, his tone full of distaste. He didn’t enjoy being lectured.
Rosie sighed, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress before proceeding. “You're planning on using that human to return to the mortal world, expecting your powers to remain intact. That’s not how it works, sweetheart. It’s a fool’s errand.”
What a clever girl, Alastor thought to himself. It was no wonder he valued their camaraderie as much as he did.
Alastor cocked a brow, careful to remain neutral as she continued. “As your ally - and your friend - it is my obligation to inform you when you’ve gone mad.” Alastor’s smirk grew just a bit into a wry grin. He hadn’t thought Rosie would take this so personally. It was as amusing as it was surprising.
“Fine, fine, fine,” he waved his hand dismissively. “I may temporarily have my horse hitched to the girl’s wagon, so to speak. Surely, you of all sinners can understand the desire to expand your empire? Since when did you get so soft?”
“You’ve said it yourself, Alastor. There is no undoing what is done,” she chided.
“Chaton, I can assure you, I have my head firmly about me in this.” The mild strain from being caught off guard in Alastor’s voice was nearly gone now, replaced with his usual sense of ease and delight. He was relieved that was what all Rosie’s fuss was about. Though he was still taken aback by her abrasiveness over mere gossip. That wasn’t like her.
“So this is just another stunt of yours then? You can’t seem to help yourself, can you? Must you always go against convention? You’re a reckless fool.”
“No. This is not a stunt. And to be frank, dear, your insults are starting to wear thin,” the Radio Demon warned, a crackle of static emphasizing his annoyance. “I have never put more thought into any other decision. I have never been more sure of something. I understand your trepidation, but one would think you would have enough faith in my intelligence to trust in what I am doing.” Alastor’s eyes flashed red with vexation, his posture becoming more and more domineering as he spoke.
Rosie took a moment to look him over, mulling over how to proceed with more caution. “Forgive me, I didn't mean to offend,” she offered sincerely.
“However,” Alastor began, flashing a wide, mischievous smile. “Say I did have something… reprehensible in the works… You have no reason to doubt my capabilities. I’ll leave it at that.”
Rosie’s scowl didn’t ease, so Alastor disregarded her. There would be a time to discuss his plans in detail, but the present time was not ideal. “Am I to assume that is the reason you summoned me here? To lecture me on my alleged impulsive actions? Or did you feel the overwhelming urge to praise my ability to attain such an incredible asset? In theory, of course” He clarified, rather sarcastically, but shifted his demeanor once Rosie’s posture remained rigid.
“No,” she hissed. “I summoned you in hopes of warning you.”
“Oh? How delightfully ominous! Warn me of what, chaton?” Alastor asked, drumming his claws on the counter leisurely, making it apparent that he was equally unthreatened and bored.
“I’m not the only inhabitant of Hell that was caught off guard by your claim over the human, Alastor. Why, I don’t recall a time I’d ever seen those three so roused. They were tickled pink! The way they lit up when they discovered that I had no knowledge of this-”
“Come, come, Rosie. Out with it,” Alastor interjected, losing what little patience he had left with her ambiguity.
“Those foolhardy overlords who are always gawking about and maintain residence at that salacious studio. They know of your obsession with that girl and are already planning to make a muck of your plans. I thought I might try and beat them to it in hopes of giving you, and your new toy, a minor forewarning.”
A tense silence hung in the air before Alastor could process her words. “Those imbeciles were here? Openly threatening me? And you’re just disclosing this now?” Alastor seethed, his irritation sparking anew. Rosie glared and crossed her arms over her chest, a pose that was unbefitting of her normally elegant stance.
“Do not chastise me for the consequences of your actions, Alastor,” she warned as a slight gust of wind cascaded through the shop, indicative of the power she held. “Should you have not been so careless with your little human, your secret may have remained concealed. Is it true that you allowed her to seek council with Valentino? Unaccompanied, no less! What did you think would happen?”
Rosie carried herself in that sanctimonious way of hers, inclining her head toward Alastor like he was a child to be patronized. Oh, how he hated that.
“I was not responsible for that atrocity. It was that vulgar, ostentatious spider who does Valentino’s bidding. Had I not immediately gone to retrieve her, who knows what events may have transpired. I was hoping that once I disclosed that Lucifer had his sights set on her, they would leave well enough alone. It appears I presumed incorrectly.”
“Oh, Alastor,” she murmured, tilting her head sympathetically. “Dear boy, you’re doing too much. That human is more trouble than she’s worth. There are too many people in power who want a piece of her. If you want to secure her as your own, you’re going to need to get ahead of this.” Her tone was placating but only marginally effective. Alastor held her stare for a moment longer and then turned away from her.
“I can deal with those three cretins. I’m not intimidated in the slightest.”
"Your expression says otherwise," Rosie affirmed, stepping around to force him to face her. “They’re going to be difficult to subdue. They have new artillery. That irksome small one was bragging about how she was able to get her hands on fruit from the forbidden tree.”
"...come again?” Alastor asked, quirking a brow.
The elegant demon tapped a long, pale finger against her mouth thoughtfully, continuing as if she hadn’t heard him. “I don’t know what they’re planning on doing with it, but it can’t be anything good.”
Alastor was glaring again. The look was heated and impatient. His jaw tensed as he bit out, "I’m afraid that ship has sailed. The girl has already been infected with it."
Rosie, unfazed by his trite display, gave him a surprised expression. “Oh? And she survived?”
“It would appear so,” he sneered.
That explained the girl’s hallucinations. Alastor was please to have that mystery solved, but he did not enjoy being outdone by his rivals. Especially those he considered so far beneath him. They would not even have known about his attachment to the human had Angel not gotten involved. This angered him further. The spider had come so close to running his plans. So very close. No, no, her continued companionship with him would not do. He would have to sever those ties immediately.
A sudden lurch to his insides alerted him of another demon within close proximity, though not from inside the shop. It seemed that his shadow was communicating with him, sending warning signals that his human was no longer unaccompanied. Though Alastor felt no threatening presence, he did not trust that whoever was with her meant her no harm.
"I think it's time I bid you farewell, chaton" Alastor stated, deciding that it was time the conversation ended. Though he was displeased with the amount of knowledge that Rosie possessed regarding his plans, it was too late now. Alastor would never be foolish enough to fully trust anyone, even his closest of friends, but maybe they could somehow work together in the near future. Rosie was certainly a formidable ally. Perhaps, this could potentially work in his favor.
Regardless, Alastor was getting more and more antsy the longer he left the girl with the unknown stranger.
"As you wish. But please, Alastor. Heed my warning,” Rosie replied, escorting her friend towards the exit.
“Yes, yes, chaton. I hear your concerns,” he promptly dismissed before placing a delicate parting kiss on her cheek. “I thank you for your guidance and for your hospitality.”
She smiled genuinely at him, showing off her pearly fangs. “It’s always a pleasure, sweetie. Please be careful.”
“Always,” he winked as he turned to leave.
“And be mindful of that temper of yours!” she insisted, wagging an accusatory finger. “It’s going to consume you one of these days!”
His smile widened into a sinister grin. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
Everyone is SO excited for any new chapters, but don't feel like you have to push yourself to write if you're not feeling it at the moment! Don't feel like you're letting anyone down, you're not <3 We care about your health, and your enjoyment of writing this story is just as important as our enjoyment of reading it
I am so grateful for the kindness and patience that everyone has shown me. Truly. I get all choked up thinking about the amount of support I've received by lovely people like yourself. I cannot thank you enough.
I can't answer with "the film in its entirety" - can I? No? Hmm... I suppose if I had to narrow it down:
2017: It's a tie between two scenes! The first scene is where Pennywise is "playing with his food" by tormenting Eddie after he fell through the floor and broke his arm. The way he crawls out of the fridge and cackles as he threatens to bite his arm is hilarious to me. And the teeth! I love that they were actual prosthetics and not CGI. Somehow Bill fit those into his big ol' mouth. Impressive!
The other scene is the one at the end where Pennywise has Bill in his clutches and Richie is like, "You brought me to a crack house!" and the offended look that Pennywise gives him, whether it was intentional or not, gets me every time.
2019: There's SO MANY! It's so hard to choose just one! There's the scene where they're all at the table at the restaurant just laughing and reminiscing. We get a glimpse into what their life could have been like if they hadn't been plagued by a haunted past with Pennywise. It's so moving and it's sadly abnormal to see them so happy. Then, there's the scene where Bev allegedly meets Bob Gray. His dialogue, "You haven't saved any of them" is just... perfection. The whole scene where Richie is chased by the giant lumberjack while being taunted with his "secret" cuts deep. Then, of course, the scene where Pennywise-Beverly is chasing Ben through the halls, taunting him by saying that no one could ever love someone like him gets me all in the feels. And I always sob when they all hold each other and cry as they mourn the loss of their friend while washing the blood off of their clothes.
GAWD there are so many wonderful elements about both films, (and also... not so great ones... (naked grandma / shriveled up tiny Pennywise pancake, etc.)) it's difficult to choose! What are some of your favorite scenes?
I miss writing. So, SO much. I really need to stop setting myself up for failure by promising to crank out chapters and not following through. I'm sorry for letting everyone down. I miss you all.
So im curious will there be more parts to imgainary? Also love your work and if your taking a break I understand.
You’re so sweet 😭 Thank you for your understanding. I truly appreciate it. YES, there will be more parts of ‘Imaginary’! I had to take a few months to put myself back together after my dad passed away. Writing (or anything for that matter) didn’t bring me joy like it once did, but I think I’m ready to jump back in 😁
Hey, I've been reading your stuff lately this past year and I was wondering if this series ' Imaginary ' of yours is something you are gonna continue? It's quite interesting and I'm curious to know.
I’m thrilled to hear that you somehow found your way to my stories 😊 Yes, I absolutely plan to continue ‘Imaginary’. I have a lot planned for it! On a morbid note, my dad passed away a few months ago and it’s taken me a long time to have the drive to do the things I used to enjoy doing before he passed. Thank you for your patience 🙏🏻
Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions.
Chapter Warnings: Explicit Language, Awkward situations, manipulation, possessive behavior, frightening imagery
An absurd amount of information had made itself known to you in the past hour. There were so many things boggling your mind that your vision practically blurred from the headache it produced. To try and process everything was overwhelming at best.
First of all, you thought that you had been seduced by Alastor… but you weren’t. As it turns out, it wasn’t even Alastor that caused the nightmare. The culprit was a mysterious entity, which made an already fucked up situation that much worse. Though Alastor had assured you that the exchange had been fabricated in your mind, you weren’t entirely sure if that was the case. It had felt so horrifyingly real. To chalk it all up to a drug-induced dream was nonsensical and yet, considering your environment, that could have absolutely been the case.
Whatever it was, it didn’t negate the fact that you openly offered yourself to the two-dimensional demon. Or… did you? It didn’t feel right, but also, it felt oh so wonderful. The sexual tension that had been building up around Alastor since your arrival in Hell had finally come to a head, but you didn’t actually want that to happen… right?
Ew, okay, ignoring the fact that you came off like a desperate dog in heat, you were still relieved when Alastor had revealed that it wasn’t actually him, which also kind of left you… disappointed? Fuck! You needed therapy!
Then, of course, there was the heart-warming flashback that Alastor had remarkably disclosed that allowed you to see a whole new side of Husk where he was actually defending your honor, but it also made Alastor out to be a power-hungry demon who cared little for anything else. To be fair, you already knew that about him, but it was still upsetting to hear him basically confirm it in his own not-so-subtle way.
In addition, after all of that, he had somewhat confessed to finding you appealing and wanting to make you his, whatever the fuck that meant. And then he kissed you again! What fucked up game was he playing?! What kind of insane torture was this?! More importantly, why were you still drawn to him?!
Your thoughts were loud and distracting. So much so that you weren’t even concentrating on where you were going as Alastor led you down one of the derelict streets of Hell, which you had learned was Pentagram City in the Pride Ring.
Alastor kept a casual pace, his posture proper and also somehow relaxed as he clasped his hands tightly behind his back as he walked. As your troublesome thoughts became too much to bear on your own, you couldn’t stop yourself from breaking the silence with a question.
“Uh, so… could you please share your suspicions regarding who would target me for something as weird and kinky as tentacle… er… shenanigans? You said you had an idea of who it might be, but you haven’t disclosed who. I also don’t understand why they wanted to make me think I was in that kind of situation. I’d like to know, please.”
A moment of awkward quiet passed between you before he spoke. “There is no sense in sharing unless I am certain. Do not fret, the miscreant will be found and properly dealt with, I assure you.”
His usual crisp and chipper tone was subdued. He actually sounded a bit weary. Your self-conscious response was to assume that his lack of energy was due to some form of regret for offering to help you. Your eyes lowered to the ground as you held your tongue, trying your best to hold back more questions in fear of what he might do when genuinely annoyed. Sadly, that lasted all of ten seconds.
“I’d appreciate it if you were upfront with me about everything rather than continuously keeping me guessing. It’s no secret that you enjoy toying with people, but please, Alastor. This had better not just be some game to you. If you really want to help me, I’m grateful, but if you’re just bored and looking for entertainment, you’re even more fucked up than I thought and you can forget about our deal.”
The comment sparked provocation, which caused him to cease walking immediately before he slowly turned around to face you. The sudden movement caught you off guard, nearly causing you to trip and plow right into him, but you managed to keep your balance as you bent your neck back to peer up into his blazing eyes, noting how intimidating his height truly was.
“Sweet girl,” he began, his voice low with crackles of distortion, causing goosebumps to crawl up your arms. “I would be dishonest if I said that the undertone of trepidation you are so desperately trying to hide wasn’t utterly delectable.” He leaned forward then, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin. “However, there is no reason to question my allegiance. You have indeed been targeted by one of Hell’s own and I have taken it upon myself to ensure your safety. You’re no good to anyone dead. I am simply holding up my end of the bargain as any gentleman would. As for our venture, why should it not be a source of fun? After all, the world's a stage! And the stage is a world of entertainment!”
Gawking at him, you blinked a few times, lost for words as he widened his grin, causing his red eyes to shift into horizontal crescent-shaped slits, which made his appearance even more sinister. Was this haunting, powerful creature with the face of nightmares really willing to put himself in harm's way to keep you safe? Was it just to make sure that he could go back to Earth with you or did it have anything to do with his weird fondness towards you? Either way, it was vexing, leaving you with a sense of unease.
Satisfied with your lack of response, the Radio Demon smoothly turned back around without another word and resumed his brisk pace once again.
Thinking out loud, you murmured more to yourself than to him, “I’m just baffled. What does it accomplish to put that in my head? Why would they think that would have any kind of impact?”
“The delinquent is not at fault for the carnal scenario displayed in your mind. It was already there.”
You halted. Alastor, upon hearing your footsteps abruptly stop, paused his stroll and turned his head slightly to flash an incredulous grin.
“Come again?”
Sensing your bemusement, he turned to fully face you, his expression stoic. “You were essentially poisoned. However, the concoction was not meant to kill you. The drink contained juice from what you would refer to as the ‘forbidden fruit’ picked from the Tree of Knowledge. Humans experience different reactions based on how much of the liquid is imbibed. It appears that the amount you took resulted in showcasing one of your most deeply rooted desires and creating a mental manifestation. The illusion that transpires is not always so… venereal.”
The seconds passed like hours as you put the pieces together of his explanation, finally understanding the subtext of his words. When it clicked, the blood drained from your face as you avoided his gaze. Shame and humiliation welled up inside of you, causing you to choke on your own breath as you tried to calm yourself before you could manage to form words.
“So… what I saw… and what you saw in my head… that was-”
“A product of your own inception? Indeed.”
“A-and that kiss after? You were…”
“Testing a theory.” The thinly-veiled elation in his voice caused you to look up at him once again. The mischief in his eyes and the salacious grin he adorned made you want to crawl under a rock and cease to exist. “Don’t worry, darling. No harm, no foul.”
You could only manage to gape at him, not having the slightest clue on how to respond.
Luckily, Alastor was not feeling particularly patient and had turned back to continue on his path. You closed your eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to collect yourself before following his lead, pretending like you hadn’t just experienced the most embarrassing moment of your life.
Keeping a few paces behind him, you were distracted by hissing emerging from the alleys you had passed. Peering into the darkness, you were met with several pairs of glowing orbs blinking back at you.
Glancing behind you, it was then you noticed that you and Alastor had attracted a following of little red creatures with black horns and spiked tails. They each seemed to be carrying weapons, which were an array of knives, spears, rope, and other random objects that they could find.
“Um, Alastor?” you murmured tensely.
“Yes, darling?”
“Are those things dangerous?”
“Hmm?” he glanced back halfheartedly. Upon seeing the group of creatures that had surrounded the two of you, he stopped. His eyes hardened in understanding as his gaze flickered from you to the surrounding creatures. The situation seemed to be a new concept for him. He was never the prey, always the predator. He wasn’t used to being burdened with looking after a fragile human life, though you could tell he raged for the hunt.
Before you could even blink, he savagely tugged you forward, wrapping his arms around you and enveloping you completely. Your automatic response was to struggle, pushing against his chest to alleviate the uncomfortable proximity, but something about the way he held you against his large frame felt comforting. It was as if he was offended by the implication that someone would dare even consider touching what was his. Your throat clenched at the overwhelming scent of him so close to you. How was it possible to smell like raw power?
His body started to tremble, causing you to glance up instinctively. You had regretted it instantly.
His fangs had protruded from his mouth while his jaw seemed to dislocate itself. The sound of his bones popping out of place made you cringe. His crimson eyes blackened into the familiarly threatening dials and his antlers grew in height and length in a terrifying display. You hated when he transformed into the horrifying beast before you. It was downright haunting, but you understood that it was a display of power. It was a silent threat to anyone who dared defy him, and it worked every time.
The small gremlin-like beings took one look at his ghastly transformation and scattered in a heap of whimpers and screeches, leaving no trace that they had ever been actively planning your assassination. Alastor quickly returned to his favorable condition, finally releasing you before fixing his hair and brushing off his coat absentmindedly like he hadn’t just effortlessly contorted into a nightmare in physical form.
“Filthy scavengers,” he seethed, taking a moment to inspect you. “Be mindful of threats, dearest.” With that, he extended his arm as an invitation for you to grab ahold of it.
Still shaking, you interlocked your arm with his and remained silent as he led you further to his intended destination.
A few minutes later, you had arrived at what appeared to be a run-down metaphysical shop. “This looks… quaint,” you commented dryly, trying to mask your apprehension with false sincerity.
Expecting to walk right in, you were taken aback when Alastor released your arm and motioned for you to go no further. “I’ll only be a moment. You may wait here until I return.”
You scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Less than five minutes ago there was a mob eying me like a piece of meat and now you want to leave me out here by myself? Are you purposely throwing me to the wolves?”
His head slowly tilted and he arched an amused brow as he regarded you. “Have you already forgotten? Use the staff, sweetheart!”
Without another word, he entered the store, leaving you behind to brood over your own frustration of the callous demon.
Just as before, you cleared your mind and imagined the staff in your hand once again. Each time you conjured it, the easier it became. Once the staff had emerged you called upon his shadow to accompany you. The black shadow crawled out of the staff and looked to you expectantly as if waiting for a command.
Shrugging your shoulders, you explained, “Um, Alastor is running an errand. He said he’ll be back in a bit. I guess if you don’t mind, you can just hang around until he’s finished?”
The shadow blinked at you, showing no indication that it heard nor understood you, but after a moment of awkward silence, it morphed into an obscure shape and fell to the asphalt, crawling towards your feet and settling around your own shadow. You assumed that meant he was alert and watching over you without being too obvious.
“Well, well, well. If it ain’t the broad who got away.”
Your breath hitched as you twirled around to see Angel Dust approaching you, appearing unharmed, much to your relief. “Angel! I’m so glad you found me! I was worried!”
“Worried about me? Nah, I ain’t fuckin’ stupid. Once Smiles showed up, I amscrayed. I know better than to get between those mooks when they’re at each other’s throats like that. I figured, eh, what’s one little brawl gonna cause, ya know?”
Worrying your lip, you mumbled, “I’m sorry Valentino hit you. I didn’t think that-”
“Look,” he cut you off, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one before taking a long drag. “Big Vee don’t fuck around. You got your meeting, and now you owe me one. You got it?”
Swallowing hard, you replied, “Yeah. Um. Got it.”
He considered you for a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing dramatically. “Alright, alright. I get it. Yous didn’t know what you were gettin’ into. I might have hoped bringin’ you to Mista Valentino would earn me some good favor, but whatever. You made it out alive.”
You met his mock indifference with a scowl. “Gee, thanks for the overwhelming concern.”
“I’m not your babysitter,” he snapped back, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Nobody forced you to go, toots. You made that choice all on your own.” He flicked the cherry from the cig and crossed one set of his arms before looking you over. “But… you know. I’m not completely devastated over the fact that you’re okay, or whatever.”
Aw. A genuine moment of affection. Whatever Charlie saw in him, clearly she was onto something.
The sound of the shop door opening drew your attention. Your brief exchange of tenderness was short-lived at the sight of Alastor’s glare directed at the spider demon. “Well. If it isn’t you?” The static in his voice crackled dangerously as a low hum emerged around you.
“Uh… Heya, deer daddy,” Angel greeted awkwardly, flinging his cigarette aside and taking an instinctive step back. “Lookin’ good! You seem a little upset-”
Angel Dust was silenced by Alastor’s hand wrapped around his throat, his descent upon him so quick, you had felt the air whisk past you rather than saw Alastor move. The Radio Demon thrust the spider against the wall of the shop, his demeanor absolutely lethal. “Why don’t you explain the reasoning behind your careless venture with our human guest?” His claws punctuated his disdain. “Hmm?”
Angel’s arms flailed wildly, trying to release himself from the unyielding grip of the Overlord. “Alastor, stop!” you shouted, not sure what you could do to help. “You’re hurting him!”
“That’s the point, my dear,” he hissed, squeezing once more for emphasis before releasing his hold. Angel fell harshly to the ground, coughing violently while scrambling back to distance himself.
Keeping your eyes on the fuming Radio Demon, you cautiously moved to stand beside Angel, carefully helping him to his feet. “What’s the matter with you? I already told you, I asked him to take me there! There’s no reason for you to go all psycho on him!”
Angel Dust was trembling, his face even paler than it previously was, but still he managed to croak out, “I don’t want any beef, Al! I was just helpin’ the broad out!”
Alastor regarded him impassively, sneering at the spider’s defense. His entire aura demanded compliance that you had to be mindful of.
Reaching up to place a hand on Angel’s shoulder due to the height difference, you plead with Alastor. “Please, just cut him some slack? It was a mistake. We all make them. He’s my friend.”
The calm and collected demeanor Alastor held shattered as his eyes switched to their creepy dials. “A ‘friend’, is he?” He spat the word out like it tasted bitter on his tongue. “How carelessly you cast that reverence on such a debased individual.”
“Don’t be mean,” you argued as you released Angel, daring to move closer to Alastor. You weren’t impervious to his glare geared at the spider, hardly regarding you at all, but you chose to ignore it. You desperately hoped that he would calm down. This was the cruelest that you had ever seen him, and you didn’t like it at all.
“Uhhh… what’s going on?” Charlie’s voice cut through the tension instantly, as she exited the limousine that had pulled up beside you. Vaggie exited shortly behind her, a scowl on her face while Charlie looked around to assess the situation. “Is everyone okay?”
“Peachy, babe,” Angel Dust mumbled, rubbing his tender throat.
“How did you find us?” you asked, a bit dumbfounded.
Vaggie huffed sarcastically. “You’re the only living human in all of Hell. Word travels fast. As soon as we heard that you were openly walking the streets with the Shitlord, we came to make sure you were okay.”
“We’re fine,” you lied, glancing over to Alastor who had an indifferent expression mixed with his disingenuous grin. “Aren’t we, Alastor?”
The Radio Demon shifted his posture and straightened his monocle before replying in a falsely sweet tone. “Are we?” You plead silently with him to spare Angel Dust from his wrath, but you weren’t sure if he was picking up on it. He seemed… off. He wasn’t this angry before he went into the shop. Maybe his temperament didn’t have anything to do with Angel at all…
“Maybe we should get out of here?” Charlie suggested, her eyes darting around nervously. “I really don’t think it’s safe for you to be out here.”
You nodded your head, taking a step toward the limousine when Alastor suddenly appeared right next to you, his sudden shift unnerving you almost as much as it terrified you. He placed a hand on your shoulder and casually spoke, “I’m afraid we’ve made prior arrangements.”
Vaggie spun her dagger dangerously around her fingers, her heated gaze boring into the Radio Demon while Charlie looked taken aback. “What kind of arrangements?” the princess inquired doubtfully.
“Pardon our haste, but I must insist we cut this bull session short,” he declared, ignoring Charlie’s question. “We will reconvene at another time.”
“Alastor,” Charlie urged, exchanging nervous glances between her girlfriend, you, and Angel Dust. “I really think we should talk before making any rash-”
A piercing shriek had cut through the air, causing everyone to cover their ears and recoil at the intensity of it. It was like nothing you had heard before. It sounded like a banshee mixed with dial-up internet if it were filtered through an old stereo. Daring to look up, you saw that the sound was coming from Alastor who looked like he’d been possessed by a satanic entity. It was almost as bad as when he shifted into his nightmare-self.
Finally, an angry voice cut through the static. “Knock it off!”
The horrifying sound instantly died out, allowing you to lower your hands, though a faint ringing remained as you peered over to the limousine to see Husk stumbling out, looking very cross.
“The fuck is your problem?!” he growled at Alastor, staring daggers at him.
Alastor flashed his teeth in an even bigger smile, curled in such a way that not only signified that he was in a foul mood, but that he was, in fact, royally pissed off. What the fuck happened in that shop?
Rating: Mature for this chapter, but Explicit in future chapters
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions.
Chapter Warnings: Suggestive Language, Manipulation, Frightening Images
