Trigger Warning: This Blog is heavily NSFW, U18DNI. Frequent themes of violence, sex, fighting, threats, drugs/alcohol, abuse, death. Please read the trigger warnings in each fic for more details
Hazbin Hotel Fanfics
Short Stories (50k or less)
The Jambalaya
Quick summary:
The thing is, you werenât necessarily evil, or a bad person, just someone who made countless bad choices enough to land you in Hell.
You were, however, petty. As FUCK.
So when Lucifer humiliated Alastor by swooping in and stealing the crowd with his delicious pancakes, leaving Alastor's hard-work simmering in the crock pot, you decide to take some well-deserved karma into your own hands.
Longer Stories (50K or more)
Locked in a Memory
Chapter 1: Tasting a Memory
Chapter 2: Facing the Dream
Chapter 3: Answering a Siren Song
Chapter 4: Kidnapped, Unintentional
Chapter 5: Groundhog Day Dreaming
Chapter 6: Lucid Dreaming
Chapter 7: Worlds Apart
Chapter 8: Buck, Meet Doe
Chapter 9: The Broken, Bonded
Chapter 10: Sharing His Sanctuary
Chapter 11: Taunted by Trauma
Chapter 12: Blood Down the Shower Drain
Chapter 13: Under Lock and Key
Chapter 14: Charlie's Admirer
Chapter 15: Months of Dreams
Chapter 16: Consequences of your Actions
Chapter 17: Mending What's Not Broken
Chapter 18: Twin Lines
Chapter 19: The Imprisonment
Chapter 20: Party Tricks
Chapter 21: A Fork in the Road
Chapter 22: The Powerless Stag
Chapter 23: Love and Aftercare
Chapter 24: Judgement
Chapter 25: Not Running Far Enough
Chapter 26: Evaded
Chapter 27: Blackout
Chapter 28: Checkmate
Chapter 29: Caught in a Spider's Web
Chapter 30: Now they Boil in the Pot
Chapter 31: Thank You Gifts
Chapter 32: There's Always a First for Everything
Quick Summary:
Alastor is fighting his nightmares head on, desperate for a restful sleep. The fallen angel Emily is creating illusions of Alastor's memories to try to help him heal from the trauma. In doing so, she tricks Alastor into creating his own perfect person to talk to in his dream state. The question remains - who's reality is the original one, when both Alastor and the reader meet in each other's dreams?
For the reader, an AFAB fem, the tantalising thrill of meeting a true villain in her dream is too tempting to ignore. So much so, it drags her from everything she knows into a world she never imagined possible.
Despite her powerful lover, the reader has to make a deal for her own powers, and learns some dark magic tricks of her own in order to survive Hell and the powerful enemies she faces. Her afterlife takes a sharp twist in fate when the fact she never actually died means she never became a sinner, leading to a very unplanned pregnancy. The secrets, the running and the final battle to save Alastor from the very worst of his nightmares are made just a touch more difficult by the baby bump. Fluffy AF ending.
Flame of the Hearth:
Chapter 1: In Death You Want
Chapter 2: Inner Flames
Chapter 3: Tensions at the Hazbin Hotel
Chapter 4: The Dancer
Chapter 5: Sacrifice For Freedom
Chapter 6: Moving Out
Chapter 7: Improvise, and Use Your Thighs
Chapter 8: Vox's Offer
Chapter 9: Alastor's Counteroffer
Chapter 10: Misdirection
Chapter 11: Evil Rooted Deep
Chapter 12: Seeing the Cracks
Chapter 13: Taming a Phoenix
Chapter 14: The King and I
Chapter 15: Focus in Flame
Chapter 16: The Conference
Chapter 17: Seen in Shadow
Chapter 18: Curiosities and Questions
Chapter 19: Happy Trails
Chapter 20: The Fall
Chapter 21: Paradise
Chapter 22: Spend the Night
Chapter 23: Six Days, Five Long Nights
Chapter 24: No New Normal
Chapter 25: Anger, Untempered
Chapter 26: Falling Apart
Chapter 27: Strings of Fate
Chapter 28: A Walk in Sin
Chapter 29: Greed and Regret
Chapter 30: The Trial
Chapter 31: Poisonous Roots
Chapter 32: The Back-up Plan
Chapter 33: Viscosity
Chapter 34: Unforgiving
Chapter 35: Playing with Fire
Chapter 36: My Darling's Screams
Chapter 37: The King, The Equal, and the Coward
Chapter 38: Blind Spots
Chapter 39: The Courts of Heaven and Hell
Chapter 40: The Juror
Chapter 41: The Strength of Seven Sins
Chapter 42: Calm Before the Storm
Chapter 43: My Final Goodbye to You
Epilogue
Quick Summary:
Life had not been kind to you. Reaching the end of your limit, you turn to dark magic and demons to escape. Your call is answered by Evil itself, blessing you with a curse and releasing you in Hell to begin your new life.
You deal in favours; a currency that collects as wealth in the Rings of Hell. Greater deals lead to greater risks, rendering you vulnerable to some very powerful demons. Escaping the Lust ring, you hide in Pride, only deepening the danger you're in as those close to you are getting targeted.
Then Lucifer Morningstar came and upturned everything you thought you knew about this world. Your initial hate for him ran deep, hiding the undercurrent of attraction when he came near. He breaks down those fiery defences, tests your limits, and teaches you control over your flame. His mentorship is skewed by his desire to touch you, losing his self-control and giving in to temptation. Taking you around the world, his once broken heart revives as you fall dangerously deep in love with him.
His distraction leads to far greater dangers in Hell than he previously anticipated. When conflict arises, the question is asked; who's side are you on?
Misdirected Affections:
Chapter List and AO3 link
Quick Summary/Intro:
The Reader is just that - she's a connoisseur of the Hazbin Hotel Smut. Indulging in a range of fanfics and authors, she's learned some off by heart, could dream about them. The strength of this little fixation has carried through to the Hellaverse; subtle shifts in their reality, unheard urges leading demons into new behaviours. Lucifer is dragged in by the force of her nightmares, the pressure akin to 'Locked In A Memory' calling him. Forming a relationship in their dream world, he's trying (failing) to find a way to bring her to the Hellaverse, so he could live moments from 'Flame of The Hearth' and other stories in his reality.
Her loud mental voice carries through to more than just Lucifer; when she reads, Lilith often hears, and is getting sick of it. Having no idea about the dream fling with Lucifer, Lilith pulls the reader through, gives her what she thinks she wants, and lets her keep Alastor busy while she works on her agenda with Heaven and her daughter. For the reader, her only option is voluntary amnesia, so she doesn't carry through too many secrets from her old life that can unravel fates in Hell. Lucifer, who's relationship with the reader was basically just a dream, is forgotten to her. For now.
Set in the height of Season 2 of Hazbin Hotel, a lot of the events in the further chapters play out at the same time as the final episodes, with canon divergence to fit the reader and an alternative reality Lucifer in there. Meant to be a love story that reminds us all that destiny and fate can go fuck itself and we do what we want.
In The Shattered Mirror
AO3 and Chapter List
The reader has incredible powers that span from absorbing the Creation Crystal in Misdirected Affections, the prequel to this story. Her ability to shatter through walls between universes has caused immeasurable damage to the fragile timeline she stole a Lucifer from; by throwing him back into his world with all of his new knowledge, he's dead-set on improving the lives of Sinners and establishing redemption as a means of peace between Heaven and Hell.
Ash, the alternative version of the reader, now has to deal with the consequences.
Speeding up the timeline of their planned uprising, Ash, Lilith, Roo and their strategically placed assets are now at risk of detection and failure if the ignorant King has actually woken up to the intricacies of his own kingdom.
Hopefully, the King continues to play checkers, while the ladies are playing chess. Only time will tell.
Multiple-perspective 3rd person omniscient storytelling from the alternate universe, with primarily 2nd person reader-insert or Lucifer perspective in the original universe. Heavily featured scenes from season 2 of Hazbin Hotel and key events from Flame of the Hearth and Misdirected affections, this is a direct sequel in the series that is currently an ongoing WIP.
Child of the Crater
Child of the Crater - AO3
Quick summary:
The reader bursts into Hell in a flash of light, as human as the day she was born, with a voice in her head screaming at her to RUN.
The Hellaverse she adored as a fan has welcomed her with bloody, gory arms, with the Hazbin Hotel team taking her under their wing.
With chaos and absolute fuckery abound, the reader takes on various scenarios such as: investigating a murder, challenging Overlords, freeing an imprisoned imp from a goetia estate, getting shot, getting rescued from being shot (but rescued is a strong word it's more kind of captured and eventually abused (it's a rough couple of chapters tbh)), escaping said rescue, only to get shot again. Her death leads to bringing a little mutiny and a whole lot of sluttiness to the pearly gates of Heaven, so she can find a way to make peace between the warring realms.
(This was my first ever fic and helped me write my way out of an abusive relationship so i'm absolutely not sorry for how appallingly bad the writing is, it was fucking fun and cathartic as Hell <3)
Smut Shorts
Secrets Between Our Shadows (Reader x Alastor's Shadow)
Part 1: Ice Breakers
Part 2: Under the Table
Part 3: Surviving the Soup
Part 4: Confessional
Quick Summary:
Reader is a demon guest undergoing redemption at the Hazbin Hotel with an unfettered crush on the Radio Demon. Though he barely glances her way, his shadow is becoming more persistent in gaining her attention. The only time the reader is near the shadow is in public spaces of the hotel, leading to some very powerfully awkward moments trying to disguise the heat going on under the table at dinner.
The best part? Alastor has no idea.
I Heard You Dear (Hazbin Hotel AlastorxAFABReader Breeding Kink Smutfic)
Chapter One: Awakening a Rut
Chapter Two: Smoke Where There's Fire
Chapter Three: Abhorred and Adored
Chapter Four: Uncouth, Carnal, Divine
Quick-ish Summary:
You joined the Hazbin Hotel with good intentions, willing to work towards the promise of redemption. Whilst living there for a few weeks, your intentions became far less innocent as being near the only attractive stag-formed demon in the Pentagram began a whole new mating season in your doe body. You're overwhelmed by the breeding instincts, lost in the sight of the Radio Demon's form when he loses control, leading to private moments of pleasuring yourself to cope with the heady lust.
Alastor has no such issues with his deer form until he stumbles upon you in the midst of your orgasm calling out his name; awakening an unrelenting rut that demands to be answered by her, and her alone, despite his attempts to cope. The sweet musk of her scent drives him insane as both his rut and her mating season worsen dramatically in the span of three very lustful days.
Realizing each other's weaknesses to desire, you and Alastor play intimate games of petty revenge to allude to your needs. Despite the worry from the Hazbin Hotel staff, you're pleasantly safe and protected in the Radio Demon's arms as he satisfies the rut by breeding you thoroughly.
*** Back-and-Forth POV switch for extra horny fun effect. Enjoy! ***
When Else Will I Get A Chance Like This? (Hazbin Hotel AFAB Soul Swap SMUTFIC)
Chapter One: The Tower's Chambers
Chapter Two: Seeking Shelter
Chapter Three: Means To An End
Chapter Four: Why The Fuck Not
Quick Summary:
The bright promise of reliving your fondest memories has lured you to the mysteriously appearing castle in the outskirts of the Pentagram. The bliss quickly turns to horror as you try to escape the twisted ghosts of your past, crashing through to find the Radio Demon devouring a manifested corpse in his own torture chamber. The grand host plays his wicked trick, swapping your souls between your bodies for optimal torture. The two of you fend off the Infestor Demon, fleeing back to the Hazbin Hotel.
Poorly disguising the change in personalities, you hide in the Radio Demon's bedroom, working out how to persuade the King of Hell to swap you back without anyone else working out the soul switch and potentially exposing the two of you to immense dangers.
Problem was, his body is constantly trying to seek entertainment, and yours is a mess of hormones and trauma. What could go wrong? And well, when else would you get an opportunity like this again?
SMUTTY SMUTFIC, very confusing gender switch, gender terms that often don't make sense because they're in the wrong bodies, story for fun, NO PLOT IN THESE PORNFLAKES.
Smut Longs
The Burn Within the Ice (Reader x Alastor's Shadow SMUTFIC, the sequel to Secrets Between Our Shadows)
Prologue
Chapter One: First We Learn
MORE CHAPTERS (2 TO 32) (I RAN OUT OF LINKS ON MY MASTERLIST) (FIGHT ME)
Quick-ish summary:
Alastor's shadow takes an interest in the reader, seducing her with logic-and-physics-defying feats of romance and touch, bringing her to heights of pleasure at the most inappropriate times. Alastor himself is blissfully unaware, until forced to confront the obsession his shadow has over his favourite sinner.
Secrets Between Our Shadows is only the beginning. Now the reader has to survive Alastor himself.
Ruthless, powerful, and utterly furious at bending to his shadow's will, the Radio Demon is wrath personified, caged in infatuation that doesn't belong to him. Secrets become harder to keep the longer they're held, especially when it starts to hurt Moni.
The balance of power shifts when you take on the shadow as your own, barely learning how to navigate the additional consciousness before you're vying for Moni's freedom with Vox himself. When you realize that the situation is a lot more complicated, you end up needing to decide who you had to let go in order to keep the other.
Velvet Choker (Hazbin Hotel Smutfic sequel to I Heard You, Dear) Chapter List
(complete chapters 1-20 plus epilogue)
Quick summary:
Hazbin Hotel Smutfic with multiple different reader X relationships. Smutty, whumpy, angsty, fluffy, frustrating, hot, silly, etc
After the mating season comes to a rough end, the reader ends up in another Overlord's bed; the fashion sovereign herself, Velvette. The fierce love triangle becomes only more complicated the longer it goes on, leading to sly attempts from both Alastor and Velvette to claim the reader's affections while pissing off their rival.
The Angel's Fall (Hazbin Hotel VOX Smutfic Dead Dove Do Not Eat Yandere Series)
Tumblr Chapter List and AO3 Links
BACKSTORY: The Reader has been granted the female body they always yearned for, after suffering a life of dysphoria in their assigned gender. The only caveat was that it was at their death, and required them to become an exorcist nicknamed 'Blue' by Adam upon arrival to Heaven. The training was gruelling, earning respect through sweat and agony, summoned to slay demons in the first-ever extermination. The reader's morality and shame won out over their training, opting to live with demons to try to atone for the needlessly spilled blood. ********************************
Smutfic brief summary:
You're given an undercover role in the Vees' tower, joining a team of tech nerds who run the server room like it's their whole existence. Which it sort of is? Your job is to keep them functioning, so they keep Voxtek running efficiently. A challenging task when the CEO, Vox himself, has decided to claim you, watching your every breath through hidden cameras. The tech Overlord's intentions are far from innocent; breaking down your resolve, showing you the world through his carnal gaze. Making you fall apart in a body you don't yet understand. Whilst also trying to hide your angelic identity and ties to a secret army. No problem, right?
The events leading up to season 1 and 2 of Hazbin Hotel are part of Vox's downfall; his helplessness as he claws at his reality, fighting for control, yearning for what just isn't within reach. His own ego tears apart his relationship with the reader, hyperfocusing on his growth into God-like worship to prove himself as ultimately worthy.
Then, following the events of season 2, we have Pathetic Whumpy Vox. Without spoiling the story, it's very heavily fluffy, whumpy, frustrating, smutty and complicated. Major character deaths in the final 2 parts, plus a little justice for both Angel Dust and the reader...
The Demon's Rise (OC x Ethan LONGfic, Hazbin Hotel smut spin-off from The Angel's Fall series)
AO3 and MIXED chapter link
This is a series of chapter cuts from a huge fic i definitely went overboard with, posting only some of my favourite chapters on Tumblr so others can enjoy them too without getting overloaded by the full story!
Heads up, they WILL be posted out of order. The chapter number will correlate to the post on AO3 for convenience.
Main plot summary:
Clarence Gailson (Ron) is an OC who enters Hell fresh from war in the mid 1600's, navigating Overlords and sinners through the worst of Hell's recent history. He has his own fiery temper issues to manage, alongside a need to always be the one in control, protecting everyone he can. This means running underground shelters for thousands of weak and passive sinners. Even when Ron is kicked out from their community for damning a sinner to the Radio Demon's broadcasts, he still cares for and oversees the shelters from afar.
Becoming owned by Alastor, entering Voxtek as a spy, and falling head over heels in love with Vox's assistant Ethan all leads towards the catastrophic events we know of in the Angel's Fall series.
Featuring heavy smut, this story is essentially just 'what if sweet little Ethan found a Shadow Daddy, but it was told from the Shadow Daddy's perspective?'
Please read the trigger/content warnings for each fic before reading!!
All comments and feedback are extremely appreciated, but please leave them on the relevant fics so i know what they apply to. Thank You for interacting!
The Demon's Rise (OC x Ethan LONGfic, HH smut spin-off from Angel's Fall series)
I'm going to be starting a series of chapter cuts from a huge fic i definitely went overboard with, posting only some of my favourite chapters on Tumblr so others can enjoy them too without getting overloaded by the full story!
Heads up, they WILL be posted out of order. The chapter number will correlate to the post on AO3 for convenience.
Chapter 1 link to AO3 for the curious
Main plot summary:
Clarence Gailson (Ron) is an OC who enters Hell fresh from war in the mid 1600's, navigating Overlords and sinners through the worst of Hell's recent history. He has his own fiery temper issues to manage, alongside a need to always be the one in control, protecting everyone he can. This means running underground shelters for thousands of weak and passive sinners. Even when Ron is kicked out from their community for damning a sinner to the Radio Demon's broadcasts, he still cares for and oversees the shelters from afar.
Becoming owned by Alastor, entering Voxtek as a spy, and falling head over heels in love with Vox's assistant Ethan all leads towards the catastrophic events we know of in the Angel's Fall series.
Featuring heavy smut, this story is essentially just 'what if sweet little Ethan found a Shadow Daddy, but it was told from the Shadow Daddy's perspective?'
Trigger warnings: Violence, fighting and wars, heavy gore, injuries/death, soul ownership, torture, hypnosis, manipulation (Alastor and Vox are there, obviously), control issues, light BDSM, controlling relationships, very graphic gay sex, voyeurism, edging, oral, anal, bondage, the works. Drug use (but not for the OC), alcohol, mentions of non-con from other characters. Emotional damage so bad even i still cry when a certain character is butchered, and it's not the protagonist. Some scenes may be disturbing, and others may make you kick your feet and giggle.
Chapter list with summaries:
Chapter 104: (Short Smut) Room Service
Ron has earned his rest in the Vee-I-P suites following the second extermination, having survived with the help of his loyal server room team and the angel they befriended. He's exhausted and crashing out, but too tired to sleep, resorting to the hot tub in the generously upgraded suite for a welcome unwinding.
His peace is broken in the best way possible; Ethan sneaks into the sauna with tray of strawberries and bad intentions in hand, eager to break the 37-year-long wait they endured alone while Vox forced them apart by tight contracts and vicious threats.
Chapter 104 of The Demon's Rise (OC x Ethan LONGfic, Hazbin Hotel smut spin-off from The Angel's Fall series)
AO3 link
Chapter Summary:
Ron has earned his rest in the Vee-I-P suites following the second extermination, having survived with the help of his loyal server room team and the angel they befriended. He's exhausted and crashing out, but too tired to sleep, resorting to the hot tub in the generously upgraded suite for a welcome unwinding.
His peace is broken in the best way possible; Ethan sneaks into the sauna with tray of strawberries and bad intentions in hand, eager to break the 37-year-long wait they endured alone while Vox forced them apart by tight contracts and vicious threats.
Trigger warnings:
Graphic gay sex, oral, anal, light bondage, edging, overstimulation, praise kink, obedience, control, mild surveillance stalking through CCTV, mentions of drug use from other characters, emotional damage AND healing
************************************************
Ron made his excuses around 1am, leaving the rest of his team to their midnight delights. Though he hadnât seen them place orders for any prostitutes, heâd caught each of them throwing curious and longing glances towards the catalogue at the bar. Maybe with their team lead out of the way, theyâll get a bit braver.
As soon as he left the lounge double doors, the host pulled him aside.
âExcuse me, sir. Your room has been upgraded, compliments of Vox. Follow me.â
He kept his wits about him as he trailed behind the host, suspicious of the late-night alteration. Though he couldnât imagine any malicious intent behind upgrading a bedroom, Voxâs threat replayed loudly in his mind the entire way to door E-10.
The host bowed as he opened it, revealing tasteful crimson decor in a richly black room. Faint silvery patterns adorned the walls, with statues and large ferns dotted across the luxurious bedroom. The bed itself had an intricately carved frame and overstuffed pillows with ruby coloured sheets, questionably large for the purposes of just sleeping on.
Where the kitchenette had been in his last room, instead was a large glass enclosure surrounding a waist-height wood panelled cube with a matte-black cover. He eyed it curiously, noticing the hanging pegs and wooden bench lining the wall behind it, leading to a shower feature on the wall adjoining the corridor.
âThat would be the hot tub, sirâ the host explained, striding towards a sleek black handle on the enclosure door. âThe water is purged and replaced between guests. Would you care for instructions?â
âCan figure it out. Why the upgrade?â
âIâm afraid you may have to ask Vox, sir. Though i strongly advise doing so at a reasonable time tomorrow, as he is currently... occupied.â
With Blue? Or Valentino?
âMmmhm. Thanks.â
âItâs a true pleasure, sir. Are you sure you wonât be needing the catalogue tonight?â
âPositive.â
âVery wellâ the host acquiesced to the obvious desire for solitude, making a point to straighten the room service menus on the console table by the door on his way out. Ron ignored him, glancing around the room to get his bearings.
What little heâd had with him at work, backpack and dirty clothes included, were rested beneath the console table. He picked through his jeans, finding his half-dead phone, and pulled a charger from his bag.
Checking his messages, he found nothing concerning or coded to deal with right this moment. There were still floods of work-related issues, but no urgent calls for help or personal favours demanding attention for the night.
Relieved, he wandered over to the new bed, sitting on the edge as he pondered the upgrade a little further.
Was Vox really doing all this just to show off? We already know how nice Blueâs apartment is. Weâve heard stories about the dates they go on, the networking parties they attend. Whatâs the point of doubling-down now when heâs already thrown so much money into the âVIP experienceâ tonight?
Curiosity got the better of him, opening up CCTV channels on his phone to see what the Vees were up to.
He wasnât surprised by the carnage they had amassed in the Penthouse Lounge. Nudity in every direction, with sex acts as part of the show and the service, Vox and Valentino were both getting ridden enthusiastically by a couple of demons in butler-style costumes. Velvette was semi-naked in a giant wine glass, splashing up at the nude dancer gyrating on her lap.
Groupies littered the room, making it hard to focus on any one activity. Everyone had their choice of sin on a silver platter; whether it was railing a line, sucking and fucking, recording someone else, pounding shots, or playing strip poker near the windows.
He wasnât sure why he lingered on the view for so long, until the gnawing in his gut became a pit of dread.
Where the Hell is Ethan?
Even if heâd seen Ethan with someone else, heâd have been reassured. Ron knew he had survived the extermination, but not checked up on him since the car journey. He cursed himself for not thinking to keep an eye, darting through other channels to try and spot him before resorting to tracking searches.
His thumb hesitated before clicking into the server room, remembering who else he hadnât checked up on.
Shit. She wasnât at the party either. Goddamn it, dropping the ball here...
Blue wasnât in her apartment, nor in Voxâs room. He clicked faster through feeds, backing up a couple when he registered the figure tucked on a deckchair in the shark tank pool room.
His lips twitched in a relieved smile, amused by the nosy shark poking up from the water against the mesh just high enough to watch her sleeping. The sharkâs tail swayed, appearing to wag contentedly. Blue looked comfortable and clean, dressed in a well-worn t-shirt that probably belonged to Vox.
It made his chest ache to see her care so much, to find comfort in his pets and his old clothing, when the prick was literally getting off on someone else just down the hallway from where she slept.
He never deserved you, kid. Sure hope you know that. Whatever Amara planned, itâs not worth throwing away your potential to get sucked into their lifestyle.
Giving it another minute of watching her rest, revelling in their miraculous and hard-earned survival, he finally closed down the feed on her and continued trying to find Ethan.
Resorting to his automated searches, the hits came back immediately.
No wonder i couldnât find you. Why the Hell are you helping out the catering staff at this time of night?
Flitting between stations in the canteen kitchen, Ethan passed utensils and ingredients to the demons in a flurry around him, helping prepare the room service dishes for guests and residents alike. He looked both excited and tired, a familiar delay in his response times and fractionally slower arm movements with lax tail that usually indicated Ethanâs sleepiness.
Ron sighed, finding a warmth seeping amongst the ache of tired muscles.
Ethan looked too beautiful. Too tempting.
He had to forcibly shut his phone off and toss it across the bed, saliva pooling as a yearning coiled in his gut, mind starting to spiral into the gutter.
Keep watching him, and i really will need that damn catalogue. And i doubt thereâll be anyone on there that can look or act the part like i need. Maybe I'll see how things go this week, if i get an evening with enough energy to hit a dungeon bar.
Should have probably gotten Beechâs number... if he survived.
Ron cringed hard, shaking off the sickening thought. He knew there had been at least a couple thousand deaths, if not more, and anyone topside could be on that list. The shelters had remained undetected, Amara was fine last time i checked, Carmilla had that hiding spot...
Rubbing his temples, his frustration simmered as he struggled to find any reprieve from the stress of not knowing who had or hadn't survived. There wasnât a reasonable headcount or deaths report yet, and essentially it wouldnât make any difference if he knew who had or hadnât made it anyway.
Blue and Ethan were alive. Thatâs good enough for now.
Sighing heavily, he registered the ache in every muscle. His mind had triggered into a restless fretting, rendering the idea of trying to sleep as utterly pointless. He glanced up at the dark glass enclosure, tempted by the luxurious sauna-style steam room with a decent group-sized hot tub in the centre.
Fuck it. Why not.
Designed for idiots, the controls were perfectly easy to navigate, warming up the water with a whirring groan deep in the mechanisms. The pumps activated, sending a current through the pool without the bubbling jets running.
Slipping off the robe heâd worn for the entire night, his nudity felt obscurely exposed to the wall-to-floor windows, despite how far above ground his room was. The only surveillance came from the CCTV cameras he ignored, well aware Vox had spied on him in too many states of indecency to blush at a modest view like this.
Dipping his fingers in the water, he found it becoming reasonably inviting even at this temperature. He swung a leg over the rim, easily following the momentum to splash quietly into the pool. He lowered until his chest was half submerged, leaning back into a curved corner seat. His eyes fell peacefully shut, soothed by blissful heat as the water reached desired temperature.
The water worked wonders, unwinding what felt like decades of tension from his old body.
A faint click and drag sounded from the enclosure door behind him. His head whipped around with an automatic curling of claws ready to react, adrenaline spiking instantly.
His knotted brows raised as Ethan nervously smiled from the doorway, bearing a waiterâs cloche and linen tea towel draped formally over one arm.
âRoom serviceâ Ethan murmured, fending off the urge to laugh with a harsh bite of his lip.
Ron lost all ability to speak, staring unabashed as Ethan found the courage to take shuffling steps towards the bench next to the hot tub.
He rested the serving dish and the towel, avoiding Ronâs eyes as he turned to face the wall.
Mesmerized, Ron near enough forgot how to breathe.
Piece by piece, items of clothing fell to the floor. Stripping slowly, allowing Ron to savour the view. The sight of trousers sliding down his tail made Ron gulp, coughing as he choked on a little air, getting very uncomfortable in the rush of hot blood to his groin.
Ethan glanced coyly over his shoulder, bending over with a teasing flick of his tail as he picked up and folded the trousers neatly.
When he turned, exposing his full front, Ron could only see the curve of excited eyes and a timid smile. Ethan reached towards the tub's rim, leaning until he found a series of buttons Ron had neglected to try out.
Instantly, the room burst into brilliant swirling light as ripples of water danced across skin and ceiling, illuminated by dozens of submerged bulbs in the hot tub.
Ethan looked ethereal. He couldnât belong to Hell. Not looking like this.
Pure, perfect, and devastatingly pretty; the eel demon made a sensually slow turn to sit on the edge of the tub, using his tail to stir the water in delicate flicks.
âI know you like your showers hotter than this. Not trying to scald yourself this time?â
Ron barely managed to blink for a few seconds, too hypnotized by the naked tail rippling through the water. âAhuum, mm, mmhm... what?â
Ethan giggled breathily, the sound musical and divine. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, protecting his dignity while his back arched in a delicious curve. He knew exactly what he was doing, head tilting as he softly smirked at Ronâs mindless stare.
âCan i join you, sir?â
Ethanâs submissive purr knocked his whole sense of being off-kilter. It wasnât anything like the pleasantries of servants whoâd addressed him the entire night; the way Ethan said it resounded with devout worship. As though âsirâ was synonymous to âmy entire worldâ.
Ronâs arm raised from the water, offering a palm rather than words. Ethan smiled, teeth flashing in the pale hazy hues emanating from the pool below. One leg at a time, exposing his semi-flushed cock in the purposeful movement, Ethan followed Ronâs gentle guidance into the water. Inch by inch Ethan sank deeper, the swirls of soft blue and white dancing across his charcoal skin and mismatched eyes like he was a being of pure sorcery.
No logic or regard for consequence could have stopped Ron in that moment. Drawing Ethan closer, his favourite demon breathily sighed as his free hand met Ronâs shoulder, parting his thighs to rest either side of Ronâs hips. His arm looped around Ronâs neck, breaking eye contact to drink in the sight of Ronâs scarred chest in the pretty lighting. His fingers stroked patterns across each trace of healed wounds, as if learning the stories they told one by one.
Ron fought to keep his eyes open under the bliss of immense pleasure, not wanting to miss a second of Ethanâs adoring face so very close to his. Ronâs hands embraced Ethanâs slender waist, thumbs stroking ribs, studying the tremble in Ethanâs jaw at Ronâs touch. Temptation as natural as breathing won, leaning closer to press his lips to Ethanâs neck. Thighs immediately clamping around Ronâs hips, Ethanâs body jolted with arousal. Breathing harder against Ronâs shoulder as the kisses turned to shallow sucks and sharp nips, Ethan closed the space to press their torsos together, seeking skin contact in every millimetre. Ethan unconsciously grinded his erection against Ronâs groin, their cocks pressing into each otherâs lower abdomen. Ron faltered, gripping Ethanâs waist tighter as his demon tried to raise his hips to angle Ronâs tip towards his ass. âW-wait, wait-â
âNo-one knows I'm hereâ Ethan whispered, yearning thick in his breathy tone. âThe Vees are high as Hell. They think I went home an hour ago. Itâs just you and me now. Just you... and... oh God...â
Ron stroked his hand down Ethanâs hip, following the lines across his pelvis until he palmed the straining erection. He took Ethan in his hand, working a slow massage that ruined any chance of rational thought from either of them.
At this point, I donât care if Vox finds out. We waited 37 years. Survived two exterminations. Thatâs enough.
Releasing the other hand from Ethanâs waist, he took his own cock in his hand and angled it between Ethanâs thighs, resting against the curve of his ass. Ethan immediately bucked, teeth nipping Ronâs shoulder in response. He pushed Ronâs hand away from his crotch, pressing their bodies together tightly, as close as he could physically achieve.
Ronâs broad frame engulfed his little demon, arms circling him as the grinding slowed to a tight embrace. Their need to hold each other was stronger than any sexual desire, though the arousal was still very prominent beneath.
Hands roamed, seeking sensation and sound from one another. Ron gripped and stroked Ethanâs thighs, trailed claws down his back, dug fingers in his hair, ran his tongue up his neck. Ethanâs claws dragged across Ronâs shoulders, overstimulated with sensation, letting go to curl around Ronâs biceps as his back arched with sensual touch. Ron kissed the exposed throat, moaning indecently as the long tail curled around his calf in possessive claim.
Nothing in the world completed him like this. No other soul compared. Every touch like wildfire, every kiss was worship, every muted gasp a surrender. Ronâs palm flattened against Ethanâs lower back, grinding up into Ethanâs cheeks, their bodies rocking as they found a steady rhythm of fucking themselves against the other without penetration.
Despite how badly Ron needed to feel Ethan clenching around him, the sinful whimpers rolling from Ethanâs throat drove him wild. The tease had Ethan struggling, trying to push back against Ronâs hand so he count mount the cock properly. Ron resisted, driving Ethan further into pathetic whines and hot panting into his neck.
His claws knotted into the back of Ethanâs hair, pulling tight to withdraw the lustful demon to look him in the eye.
âWhat do you want, Ethan?â
The sweet demonâs face pinched with a little âoâ of a parted mouth, trying and failing to wriggle free from Ronâs palm imprisoning his lower back. âI... I- ah, please... may i... please-â
âIâm not hearing an answerâ Ron teased, rolling his hips to nudge his cock into asscheeks well above Ethanâs entrance.
âYou- ah, ff- i canât- Iâm not-... n-no, fuck you!â
Ethanâs hands pressed to Ronâs chest, pushing himself away with a scowl. Concerned, Ron immediately complied, letting him go completely. Ethanâs mouth tightened with a stifled smile, trying to maintain some semblance of irritation.
âIâve waited forever and a day for an opportunity like this, sir. You have any idea how long I've wanted this? Wanted... you?â
"Preaching to the choir, little demonâ Ron growled, enjoying the automatic clench of Ethanâs thighs from voice alone.
Ethan's irritation melted into sinful intent, a flash in his eyes threatening misbehaviour. Ron's cock twitched, losing his composure at the sight. Holy Hell, if he turns bratty right now, I'm done for. Damnit, we both are. 37 years without it. I've killed for far less.
"Then let's see if i can make you sing" Ethan purred, sliding off of Ron's thighs and lowering into the water, eye contact held until the moment he fully submerged. Ethan's hands curled around Ron's thighs as he watched the blurry silhouette crawl closer, tail gently swaying beneath the current. Ron clutched the rim of the hot tub, entire body tensing in anticipation. The swipe of a tongue from base to tip made him jolt, back bracing against the seat and hands gripping for dear life.
Ethan knew how to worship; but he also knew how to destroy.
In a dance of pleasure and punishment, Ethan worked his tongue in masterful patterns across the most sensitive skin at his cock and balls, overstimulating Ron with every lick. His toes curled, air hissing through his teeth as he unconsciously arched his back, fighting to stay still. Ethan was unrelenting, bringing Ron to a dangerous precipice far too close to orgasm for comfort.
He didn't have to warn Ethan; they knew each other well enough to tell. The tongue ended the torture with a delicate flick at the tip, swiping the traces of precum that clung to velvety skin beneath the water. Stifling a groan, Ron's body shuddered as Ethan took his tip in his mouth, working a slow rhythm of sucks, mimicking the throb of an orgasm. Tipping his head further back, his heels tried to brace uselessly against the floor of the tub, unable to release a full breath without a grunt or gasp. Ethan continued taking Ron deeper into his mouth, his teeth sheathed as the tip nudged past the soft palate towards the back of his throat. Ron's chest rose and fell aggressively, using every ounce of restraint to not cum before he had a chance to fuck Ethan.
The coil in his gut nearly snapped as Ethan swallowed around him, the suction strong enough to ruin his sense of will. Scooping Ethan up by the throat, he detached the sinful demon from his groin and raised him above the water, glaring beneath the stream of condensation and sweat marring his brow.
Ethan grinned back, tongue swiping in the corner of his mouth as he nestled his jaw into Ron's hand where it belonged.
"You'll be the death of me" Ron grunted, regaining some control over his breathing. "Damned aquatic mess."
"That would be me, sir. You think i wouldn't use that to my advantage? I can go a whole lot longer- mmph!"
Ron silenced him by leaning forward, slamming their mouths together in a demanding kiss. Ethan's arms flew around Ron's neck, pushing them both back against the corner. Ethan found his seat on Ron's lap, thighs spread and clamped in need.
The kiss was divinity untethered. Heaven itself could never have sent a feeling so pure as this; to feel the yearning of his lover crushing against his mouth, the winding of tongues as if trying to hold on against fate itself. Ethan's hands knotted in his hair, while Ron found firm purchase of Ethan's hips, angling him to sit flush on Ron's straining cock. Ethan whimpered against Ron's lips, infuriated by the resistance he found as Ron prevented him from trying to lower onto the tip rested perfectly aligned with his entrance.
Ron's self-control found leverage against Ethan's squirming, enjoying the power dynamic flip as Ethan became the suffering one. He tried to move his hands to Ethan's thighs, grunting as Ethan immediately took advantage to thrust himself onto the erection beneath. Ron's face scrunched as muscle gave way around him, sank halfway into Ethan's ass before he found a grip on the trembling thighs. His intent to move Ethan away, to delay the relief of finally being inside him, became impossible.
He bowed to rest his forehead into Ethan's shoulder, breathing ragged in his own destruction. Using his arms on Ron's shoulder and hooking his feet behind Ron's knees, Ethan found the leverage for a quick-paced bounce, panting with each merciless grind. Ron held on tight, his clawtips scratching the surface of skin with barely any restraint left, only trying to survive the ecstasy driving him to euphoria.
Oh Hell, I'll cum if he doesn't slow down, God almighty...
He cut off the devastatingly hot ride with a harsh rut upwards, sheathing himself to the base in Ethan's ass. The sweet demon cried out, simmering into a heady moan as muscle fluttered and stretched around the full length. Sounds reverberated across glass, echoing the beautiful voice in a falling diminuendo. Ron panted with relief, a small smile on his parted lips, lowering to kiss Ethan's neck. Ethan's body twitched and writhed under Ron's adoring lips, uttering quiet pleas into the void for mercy. Brushing his nose up the length of Ethan's throat, he drew his demon into a kiss once more, fighting for clarity in his mind.
This feels too good. Unbelievable. Nothing in any realm could ever compare to having you in my arms, on my lips, taking me so well... I'll do anything for you, anything you ever ask. Just don't you dare let go.
Ethan's muffled whine tore through Ron's chest, breaking the kiss to look into each other's faces. Ethan's lips twitched, his thoughts in a dizzy spin as his gaze turned seductively lidded.
"Sir, i... i brought something... I'm not sure if you'll like it, but we did try it before, and it ended pretty messy but fun. Can we try again?"
His confusion barely showed on his expression, conceding easily with a weak shrug, too love-drunk to move.
Ethan broke into a grin, watching Ron's face twist with overstimulation as he slowly rose off his cock.
Straddling Ron's lap, Ethan had to lean with his torso hung far over the edge of the tub to reach the serving platter, replacing the metal dome beside the tray. He carefully raised the dish with the aid of Ron's hands on his waist for balance, settling to sit halfway up Ron's thighs with the edible offering.
Ron snickered, eyeing the hastily decorated strawberries laden with messy dribbles of chocolate, surrounded by small ramekins of cream in various colours.
"What're we doing with this?"
"Hmmm... I did have an idea, but a genius like you might come up with something better."
Ron studied the mischief in Ethan's pretty eyes, distracted by the lights dancing off the water's ripples across his face. Careful to avoid knocking the tray, his hand rose to cup the side of Ethan's face, stroking his thumb across blushing cheeks.
The idea that came to him was far more selfish than he'd care to admit.
He pressed a single kiss to Ethan's lips before taking the tray from him, using his free hand to gently guide Ethan off his lap.
Ethan obeyed, immensely curious as he swam with his legs bent beneath him, using his arms and tail for balance to stay upright in the hot tub's current. His eyes widened, mouth parting in arousal as Ron left the seat, stood towering over Ethan. He saw Ethan's eyes roam him, lingering on the cock he'd just been riding, following Ron's movements when he climbed from the tub.
Cautious not to slip, he made purposefully slow strides around the sauna, placing a single strawberry in each chosen spot. Ethan, distracted and staring indecently, seemed confused by the time Ron put the tray down on the bench.
"You, come here" Ron commanded softly, pinching the last strawberry between thumb and forefinger.
Ethan leapt from the tub with a wide splash in his wake, skidding clumsily to a stand in front of Ron. His tail flicked and swayed, eyes alight with anticipation.
Ron arched his brow, watching every response with damning hunger. He cleared his throat, a command Ethan recognized with an instant correction of posture. His entire body went ramrod-straight, tail pointed and still, cock stood to attention. He swallowed loudly, waiting with barely-restrained impatience for Ron's orders.
"Good boy. You remember. Let's see how well" he muttered with a growl in his voice, gravelly and dark. Ethan's jaw clamped shut, cutting off a tiny whine before it could properly escape. His eyes darted to Ron's empty hand as it raised, poised to snap. He started to shake, excited beyond reason for the fingers to clap on his palm.
When they did, his knees slammed harshly to the floor, barely wincing as he panted up needily. Ron smirked, using his foreclaw to tilt Ethan's head up. Ethan almost looked like he'd try to suck on his finger, he was so riled up.
"You earned this" he praised, bringing the strawberry to Ethan's mouth. He bit quickly, chewing and swallowing in seconds, keeping his hands firmly pressed to his own thighs. Amused by the hasty devouring, Ron threw the remaining stalk back over to the silver tray with a smirk.
"See the strawberries? Where they are?"
Ethan's attention wavered, forcing himself to look away from Ron's dripping torso to blink into the dim room.
"Each one is where I'll fuck you."
Ethan's body tensed, a sharp inhale betraying his desire. Suddenly, each strawberry was a promise, and a threat.
Eight strawberries; one already consumed, with seven more to survive.
Ethan looked up with nervous want, fighting to keep still.
"Pick one. Stand next to it."
Eyes darting wildly, Ethan struggled to pick where to even begin. He glanced up to Ron to check he had permission when he started to move, a soft exhale in relief as Ron minutely nodded. Crossing over to the strawberry by the shower in the far corner, Ethan hesitantly turned around and fixed his posture.
This one first? Very well. Ron complied with a slow approach, drawing out the anticipation until he was stood directly in front of Ethan. He held his gaze as he reached over Ethan's shoulder, turning the water on full-pelt. They both flinched as a gush of cold hit their naked bodies, though Ron was ready. He spun Ethan around, taking him by surprise as he pushed Ethan's torso forward into a bend. He bucked his hips upward, easily penetrating the tensed ring of muscle in one demanding thrust. Ethan threw his arms up, palms flat to the wall, bracing for stability as Ron drew back and slammed forward relentlessly. Sensations of hot pleasure and cold water heightened the thrill, droplets splashing prettily with each rough thrust. Ron did everything he could to focus on Ethan's body, fending off his own orgasm as he bullied his demon into the threat of release.
As soon as Ethan's voice gave the telltale rise in pitch with shaking legs and clawing hands, Ron withdrew.
Collapsing to his knees, Ethan cried out with the stolen sensation, barely able to cling to humanity as he bowed his head. Ron leant over his shoulder, grinning evilly as he presented the strawberry as a reward directly in front of Ethan's mouth. He took it absent-mindedly, chewing with far less eagerness this time. Ron threw the stalk away, tilting Ethan's chin towards his face. Ethan barely blinked at him, eyes near-shut, somewhere between dissociation and disappointment.
" 'M not done. Pick another."
Ethan shuddered, squinting to look past his shoulder at the other strawberries, losing the precipice of orgasm rapidly. Determination lit up in his expression as he stumbled to his feet, ignoring Ron completely until he stood by the bench, stubborn and demanding in his scowl. Ron obliged, pleased, moving on to the next position. Roughly grabbing Ethan's throat, he guided Ethan to slowly lower onto his back on the thin strips of wood, kneeling one leg in the crevice between bench and wall for balance. Using his free hand, he hooked Ethan's legs around his waist, then lifted him via a hand at Ethanâs lower back to line up perfectly with his tip. He watched every delicious expression Ethan made as he entered oh-so slowly this time, savouring the sensation.
Ethan earned his strawberry by clinging to life, and Ron's forearms. Pounded into sweet oblivion, Ethan reached the edge of orgasm in a strangled scream that cut off as Ron stilled and backed up, ruining Ethan's pleasure once again. Ethan's feet tried to plant on the bench and wall, angling to try and take Ron's cock again. Ron denied him, holding him in place easily, waiting until his demon surrendered with the hint of a sob swallowed back. He bit off and spat the stalk into the nearby tray, nipping the strawberry between his teeth. He lowered to feed the strawberry to Ethan via a long, drawn-out kiss, sweetening the suffering until he felt Ethan relax.
When he leaned back, staring adoringly at his lover, Ethan's excited grin reflected his own enjoyment. There we go. This is a game. It's fun, and it's all for you. Enjoy it.
Ethan rolled off the bench, easing off a little gingerly as his used ass met the wood. Subtly stretching, he looked around the room, already picking out his next location.
By the window, he bent halfway over the frame, crying out in sheer pleasure to the streets far below as Ron ruined him beautifully.
At the bench pegs near Ethan's clothing, he found himself tied up in his own shirt and fucked upright against the wall, his tip stroking up Ron's lower abdomen with each rolling grind.
On the floor, his face pressed against the cold tile, back curved so tightly on all fours that his chest slid up and down the floor at every slam of hips meeting ass.
By the internal glass wall, he had full view of the room as his body pressed to the chilly glass, moans muffled by the hand clasped over his mouth. Ron's forearm and clenched fist braced on the glass beside his face, eyes rolling back as Ron edged him cruelly.
Finally, the last strawberry awaited them. Overstimulated tears rolled freely down Ethan's cheeks, trembling in every weak limb, drool seeping down his chin in pretty smears that Ron dutifully lapped up with his tongue. Ethan moaned, flexing his hips forward, exhausted and desperate for relief.
"So good for me. Just one more."
"Mmm-AH- please, can I... fuck, Ron, sir, i... i need..."
"Shh. I know. Come here" Ron soothed, gently scooping Ethan up bridal-style into his arms. Ron wasn't far off his own loss of patience, having unintentionally edged himself nearly this entire time. His entire focus had been on Ethan, listening to the body falling apart over and over, then pulling him back from letting go. In his arms now, Ethan's ruining was beautiful, and unforgiveable. Something so precious and perfect at his mercy, and this was what he'd been reduced to? It made him want to do it all over again.
Stepping carefully into the hot tub, he gently lowered them both into the water, resting Ethan into the corner seat they had started in. The strawberry loomed just behind where Ethan's head rolled back, a final reward neither of them particularly cared about. All they wanted now was each other, in every single way humanly and inhumanly possible.
Ethan gathered himself, pulling his head up with slightly parted lips, watching in a daze as Ron floated near the rim at the bench. The water stirred, then came alive with fierce bubbles, splashing them both with deliciously heated water easing their sore muscles. Ethan's face beamed as Ron returned, throwing his arms up ready to loop at Ron's neck. Ron caught him by the wrists, smirking at his eager playmate. "Not like this. Turn around."
Ethan bit his lip, wriggling in Ron's grasp to swing onto his knees. Ron followed the movement, only allowing enough space around Ethan's wrists to let him rotate in his grasp, placing them both behind his back. Ron drifted closer, lowering to press his lips to Ethan's shoulder, exactly where the scar remained from their fling so very long ago. This time, when he spread his jaw and latched teeth to Ethan's skin, he didn't pierce. Ethan cried out needily, arching his back to grind against Ron's shaft, tail gripping his waist.
Using his teeth, he pushed Ethan down to bend over the rim, ass tilted up in eager anticipation. Releasing his mouth, Ron trailed tiny nips in an uncoordinated line down Ethan's back, moving the hands out of the way so he could pass. When he reached Ethan's tail, it nearly hit him in the face with how hard Ethan bucked. Growling, Ron chastised the near-miss, trapping both wrists in one hand and using the other to force Ethan's tail in a harsh bend up to his spine. Ethan complied, his thighs parting as his indecent exposure rose above the waterline, a ring of temptation well within tasting distance.
Ron swallowed pooling saliva, hands flexing on the tail and wrists, checking he had permission. Ethan was too far gone to object, shaking and whimpering as he tried to hold himself obediently in place.
He could and eagerly would have died at the noise Ethan made when his tongue stroked flesh, painting the air with expletives and garbled cries. A starving man at a banquet, Ron licked and nipped, swiped and swirled, chasing sensation in every pass of his wicked tongue. Ron devoured him alive, catching stray kicks and wild bucks as Ethan lost any and all control. He ignored the ache in his cock yearning to feel the clench of muscle that accompanied these sinful symphonies, going down on Ethan's ass until he screamed for mercy.
Not a safeword in sight used; but enough begging that Ron knew he was close to using at least a 'yellow', he withdrew his tongue and placed a praising kiss on Ethan's lower back.
Groaning in relief, Ethan shuddered roughly. Bubbles splashed between them, blurring the sight of Ethan's strained erection as he rolled at a glacial pace to sit facing Ron. The strawberry was already in Ron's mouth, ready to be fed; Ethan cupped his hand over Ron's mouth, glaring through exhausted slits in his unfocused eyes. "N-no, not earned it" he mumbled, plucking the fruit from Ron's teeth and dropping it on the corner as before. "Get your... oh god, you had better be letting me cum this fucking time, you sadistic asshole-"
"I will" Ron promised, scooping up the limp hand and kissing it tenderly. Ethan's expression relaxed a little, lips twitching up in a relieved smile. "But you're going to make yourself cum."
His smile dropped, expression turned incredulous as he measured Ron's seriousness. "Wha-"
Ron grabbed him roughly by the hips, swinging them both round so Ron was sat in the corner, hoisting Ethan into his lap. Ethan's hands landed on Ron's chest, cringing as he looked down into the mass of bubbles obscuring the view. Waiting patiently, Ron relaxed back against the tub, enjoying every second of Ethan deliberating if he had the energy to be bratty about this. A scowl crossed Ethan's face, moving his hands to Ron's shoulders for stability. When he looked up at Ron's face, Ron's teasing smirk looked right back. Caught between being pissy and utterly desperate, Ethan slammed his lips into Ron's, kissing ardently as he mounted. Their mouths faltered as the desire hit in a powerful wave, stimulated by both the hot splashes or water and strong clench of muscle. Ron gave him a nudge of encouragement, bucking upwards to start the bounce as his hands guided Ethan's hips. Ethan's breath came out in stuttered gasps as instinct overcame him, riding Ron's tip into the sweet spot at the perfect angle.
Falling apart quicker than he expected, Ron tried to slow it down with a hand firmly pinning Ethan's shoulder, trying to still him for a second.
"Absolutely not, sir. Get your fucking hand off me and let me do exactly what you just fucking asked me to do" Ethan growled, his tone inflicted with no room for negotiation. He rose up against Ron's hold, teasing on the tip until Ron gritted his teeth in overstimulation. They both cried out as Ethan slammed down, chasing a relentless rhythm with new energy.
Ethan's determination to get Ron off only fuelled his own pleasure, visibly beginning to struggle. His bounces became shallower, thighs tensing painfully at Ron's hips, clawing into Ron's shoulders. Ron fought the urge to take over, glaring at Ethan to force him to continue. Ethan bared his teeth, willing himself to continue gliding up and down Ron's full length, his ass tightly gripping the entire time. Ron's head bowed, trying not to cum, the pull in his groin painfully taut. He'd only have to let go of his self-restraint for a single second, and all he had within him would come flooding.
Ethan faltered, trembling violently, whimpering as his head dropped to Ron's shoulder.
"K-keep... going..." Ron whispered roughly, his hands gripping Ethan's hips for any grounding whatsoever. Ethan choked out a weak plea, crying out Ron's name as though it bore his reckoning.
Powerless to refuse, Ron's body obeyed before his mind did. Hands lowered and lifted Ethan in time with his hips thrusting greedily, losing himself to their conjoined thrill. Ethan screamed in that familiar pitch of earth-shattering release, his head flying back with a wild snarl. Ron gasped in awe at the sight, shuddering as his own orgasm swiftly followed, sheathed as deep as possible into his favourite demon. They rocked slowly against each other, Ethan's face coming into view for only a second before he collapsed onto Ron's chest. Ron laughed breathily, holding Ethan to him, arms embracing lovingly.
Rising and falling on Ron's chest, Ethan made tiny squeaks and soft puffs of air as he recovered. Ron nuzzled his face to the side of Ethan's head, unwilling to let go yet.
They remained in each other's arms even as the bubbles automatically switched off and a new dawn began to warm the Hellish night sky.
Squinting out the window, Ron's gentle strokes up Ethan's back drew soft snores from the tired little demon.
Out there, immeasurable loss and insurmountable ruin lay waste to a land of eternal suffering.
In here, there was only love.
Even if their time together was only temporary.
He roused himself back to reality slowly, carefully lifting Ethan from the water and carrying him to the bed. Ethan barely muttered, rolling sleepily as Ron pulled the covers out and over him. Pulling his phone off the charger to check, he saw the time had hit 4am, bringing the new day worryingly close. He knew Vox would still be expecting them both at work, and no doubt be pissy if he'd found out the two had been together all night.
But then... why the upgrade? If he didn't want me to enjoy it? Surely Ethan coming here wasn't a surprise either in that case?
Curiosity got the better of him, trekking back into the sauna to find Ethan's phone. The last strawberry caught his eye, untouched from where it lay abandoned. He absent-mindedly popped it in his mouth, sucking at the chocolate coating as he picked up the device from Ethan's folded jacket. Placing the clothing back down, he noticed the remaining ramekins on the tray, wondering what they were originally for. Memory hit as he gave one of the pots a sniff. A creamy caramel sauce launched him back to a long-gone fragment of history, licking the same overbearingly sweet flavour from Ethan's body. Yeah, that was probably what you intended these for... oops, i guess.
Not having much of a sweet tooth, he savoured each swipe of caramel cream for the sake of nostalgia alone, using his dominant hand to unlock Ethan's phone.
He had Vox's emails open on a recent tab, with a string of messages coordinating the VIP experience for the server room team with the host Ron had met earlier. One of the last emails was sent at 23:37pm last night, arranging the room upgrade with a strict do-not-disturb order once that door had been shut with Ron inside.
Raising a brow, Ron used his own phone to compare the times, wondering what had given Vox the change of heart to be so generous.
On the CCTV playback, he realized Vox was in no state whatsoever to send that email. For the entire twenty minutes leading up to the sent stamp, Vox was pounding body shots off the bartender, coughing out puffs of Love Potion the entire time. Ethan, however, was slipping his phone out every few minutes for a few seconds at a time, pointedly hiding the action from anyone nearby. He visibly relaxed when the email was sent, and sat impatiently until about midnight, when he made his excuses to 'go home'.
Ron shook his head, smiling down at the sweet demon who made a beeline for the canteen, beginning his preparation of the damned strawberries.
And here i thought I'd be the one struggling without you most. Maybe we need to come to some sort of arrangement to keep that horny little ass in check.
Closing both phones down, he smiled softly at the version of Ethan in front of him. Real, beautiful, and so very alive.
He set an alarm for two hours' time, risking cutting it fine for them both to creep out unseen. They'd both be tired, and no doubt Ethan would be sore as all Hell in a few hours, but it was worth it. They just had to be sure they covered their tracks very thoroughly come morning.
This smut-heavy chapter has been one of the longest, most difficult edits I've ever done
On a completely unrelated note, my vibrator has died in the worst way possible. It will not turn off. It was cable charged to full. It's currently wrapped in a dressing gown to muffle the sounds of my shame
you can only spend so long identifying with large predatory animals before you start to develop strange sexual fantasies about tranq darts and being fitted for a radio collar and kept as an exotic pet
Notes: Some seriously overdue shadow smutâŠas always MDNI
Yum
Perhaps it was because all the news you had received over the last half day had finally begun to settle, or perhaps you had simply slipped into that strange numbness that comes when something life changing is looming and the mind tries to quiet the body in preparation. You were not entirely sure. Either way, you somehow made it through dinner in relative silence, and when Alastor slipped his hand into yours, you managed to offer him a flat little smile despite the possessiveness still coiling deep within your chest.
He was not out of the doghouse yet. But first, you needed to handle things on your end. After that, you would be more than content to address the small untruth he had bestowed upon you between the sheets while the two of you lay tangled together, confessing how the last century had unfolded in each otherâs absence.
Truthfully, you probably should not have been too angry with him for taking up with someone else during the time he believed you were in Heaven. Hell was lonely. Painfully so. Still, the irony was hardly lost on you that the man he had chosen had once been in love with you and had also been your best friend. Oh, and there was also the minor detail that his ex boyfriend happened to be your murderer. There was that too.
Even so, when Alastor pulled you into his arms as the two of you crawled into bed that night, you already knew he was at least earning the silent treatment.
As he peppered kisses along your jaw and pressed himself against your backside, clearly attempting to initiate something more, you wriggled out of his grasp with the weak excuse of a headache. The utterly crestfallen look on his face almost made you laugh.
Good. Be sad.
The shadow was angry with him too and had been glaring at him all evening, though Alastor remained blissfully unaware of it. The shadowâs outrage stemmed from the fact that he was a far more recent addition to Alastorâs person than the relationship with Vox had ever been. You knew this now because, naturally, you had asked.
Apparently, Alastorâs first attempt at a shadow companion had perished, making this one shadow 2.0.
A shadow who, unfortunately for Alastor, had only ever had eyes for you.
A shadow who was entirely, hopelessly in love with you and deeply resentful toward his master for ever straying in the first place.
âThatâs unfortunate,â you had said when the shadow explained that the first one had become too sentient and Alastor had destroyed him.
âYouâre pretty sentient,â you had then pointed out.
The shadow merely shrugged, chattering something along the lines of Alastor not being able to kill him now because he knew you loved him.
Which, honestly, made sense.
You did love the shadow.
âBut what are we going to do about Vox?â you finally asked, circling back to the issue as you and the shadow wandered through the halls of the hotel after Alastor had been dragged away to some management meeting Charlie insisted upon hosting.
You needed the excuse. More importantly, you needed the space to think.
At first, you had wanted Alastor to handle Vox himself. But after the little secret Husk had accidentally let slip, this no longer felt like Alastorâs mess to clean up.
No. This was yours. The shadow, naturally, agreed and eagerly offered his services.
Now it was time to take out the trash. A life for a life. A man for a man.
You knew enough about The Vees to understand they were dangerous. Well, at least two thirds of them were. You did not particularly have anything against Valentino or Velvette, and you were also painfully aware that both of them were likely powerful in their own right. You might have been able to handle one of them if things turned ugly.
But all three? Yeah. Absolutely not.
So you and the shadow plotted. You whispered theories back and forth through the empty halls of the hotel, tossing around plans that became increasingly ridiculous the more exhausted you grew. Every idea seemed to hit a wall somewhere. Too risky. Too loud. Too dependent on dumb luck.
By the end of it your head truly ached. You had barely slept the night before anyway, still too irritated with Alastor to properly rest beside him, and now the exhaustion was finally catching up to you.
So you retreated to your room, slipped beneath the covers, and let your head sink into the pillow with a long sigh. A nap sounded heavenly. Maybe sleep would clear your thoughts enough to start fresh.
That was when you felt the familiar coolness glide across your leg as the shadow climbed into bed beside you.
He chittered softly into the shell of your ear, sweet little noises vibrating against your skin as his shadowy hands slipped beneath your skirt, easing the fabric higher along your thigh.
âWhat are you doing? Are we allowed to do this?â you gasped softly as cold air kissed the sensitive skin where his hands suddenly stalled.
The two of you had fooled around before, of course, but always with Alastor involved in some capacity. You and the shadow had never truly done anything alone together.
At that, the shadow only shrugged, as if the distinction meant very little to him.
His hand slid slowly over your hip once he had pushed your skirt up, the cool touch making your breath hitch as he curled himself closer against you.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, something else began creeping into the edges of your mind. Because Alastor had probably done things with Vox.
The thought alone still made irritation flare hot in your chest, yet here you were feeling guilty over letting the love of your lifeâs shadow slip beneath your clothes.
Okay, honestly, that felt ridiculous when you thought about it too hard. They were practically the same person.
And unlike Alastor, you were not sneaking around behind anyoneâs back. It was not as though you had done anything he did not already know about.
At least you were honest with him. So, throwing any lingering guilt to the wind, you leaned in.
Kissing the shadow was a little strange. Not unpleasant, simply unfamiliar in a way that made your pulse flutter. He had kissed you countless times before, pressing cool affection against your cheeks, your throat, your hands, practically every inch of you whenever he could manage it. But you had never truly leaned into him before. Never met him halfway. Now you did.
Cool lips met yours in a desperate crash that stole the breath from your lungs. The shadow made a soft pleased sound against your mouth as his tongue brushed along your bottom lip in a silent plea for entry, and you welcomed him eagerly. The kiss deepened instantly, cool and intoxicating, his touch somehow making heat coil lower and lower in your stomach.
One of his hands brushed over your breast before gently squeezing, drawing a helpless moan from you that he greedily swallowed down. The pleased chatter he made afterward was almost smug, and he repeated the motion immediately just to hear that beautiful sound leave your lips again.
The shadow never asked for anything. He only gave. And oh, how he loved giving everything he had to his sweet love.
Your shirt vanished in an instant, tugged over your head between heated kisses before being discarded somewhere across the room, forgotten entirely as the shadow crowded closer to you like he had been yearning for this moment far longer than either of you wanted to admit. He had you alone. You were his, finally.
He wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of you. To drag his cool tongue along the places that made your breath catch and your body tremble beneath him. He needed it with an ache so deep it bordered on desperation. Needed you to understand the depth of his devotion, the way every part of him belonged to you and you alone.
His master might make mistakes. Might still carry traces of something pitifully human that had hurt you and caused you anguish. But the shadow did not. There was nothing human in him, no weakness. He was yours. Utterly. Wholly. With a love so complete it threatened to devour him from the inside out.
Which is exactly what he planned to do with you.
Parting your legs he leaned down to inhale you, he could smell the arousal as it dripped off you. That pleased him. To know that he could make you want him a fraction of the way he craved you.
Letting out a breath of cool air onto your clothed core made you involuntarily clench around nothing, the shadow smirked. Soon his love, very soon.
The panties were the next thing to go, but not before he took a moment to lick along the inner seam, that sent a shock to his core, well it would have if he truly had one. So sweet and utterly dripping with your desire for him alone. Alastor in his solid form hadnât done this. No, the shadow had. And he had barely touched you.
Tossing them behind him he parted your legs settling in between them and stared lovingly at the site in front of him. You were perfect and his to indulge in. He planned to take his time, as he was not confined to the limits a regular man might be. He didnât have a cock that would ache and weep, begging for attention when he went down on you. He had nothing but an ache deep within him to have you writhing and begging him not to stop as he brought you orgasm upon orgasm.
Heâd studied the way Alastor ate you out, and he was sure he could do it better. He was a man with something to prove and the love of his life was laid out in front of him waiting.
He couldnât contain the moan that escaped his lips as he dipped to meet you at your core, the taste straight from the source made him shiver. Or was that you shivering? He lifted his gaze just a moment to watch your face, as it contorted with pleasure of which youâd never experienced. The cold tongue against your hot slit was such a contrast it took a moment to adjust to the feeling.
But God when you did you wanted it to never end. The long tongue lapped at your core with such fervor you could hardly think. Swirling around your clit with just enough pressure to set your body ablaze. And when the shadow slid his claws under your thighs to draw your legs further apart and angle himself so that he could push his tongue into your cunt, your hand flew to his head, desperate to hold onto something. Instead you had to make do with grabbing at the sheets beside your thighs as you held on for dear life as the shadow prodded into your core lapping up desire and wet before it could fall from your sweetest lips.
It was long, and cool, and perfect as it prodded against the spongy part deep within you that had you seeing stars. Your back arched up as the shadow tongue fucked you harder. He could make it grow, make it wider, longer⊠just say the word, whatever you needed dear. Heâd do it for you.
Your moans were utterly erotic, you couldnât hold back the way he had you rolling beneath him trying to chase that beautiful orgasm. You whimpered as you tried to rock your hips down onto his face faster, chasing more.
âPlease,â you whined begging him to give you his all and thatâs when he pried his cool claw off your plush thigh and rubbed his thumb over your clit. Anything for you, love, anything to see you come undone on his face, around his tongue. Heâd give you all of Hell and then some. With every clench of your velvety walls around his tongue, he knew he was pleasing you. It urged him on. It made him hunger more. You tasted too good, looked too beautiful, he kept having to steal glances.
Heâd give anything to see you looking at him, when you came undoneâŠbut maybe another time⊠this time was just about you. As much as he loved your eyes, the way they were screwed shut told him all he needed now. You were loving this just as much as he was.
Go ahead and cum sweet thing, finish around his tongue, squeeze him until it hurt. And as you finished heâd tongue fuck you through every single wave. Heâd fuck you until you couldnât think. And when you were done and had caught your breathâŠ.well then of course heâd have no choice but to flip you onto your stomach and devour it from the back.
âą "I did something." - "Scale of one to ten." - "Depends who's asking." "Me." - "Seven." - "Police." - "Four." - "God." - "Thirteen."
âą "We need to leave."- "Why." - "I'll explain in the car." - "Why." - "I'll explain in a different country."
âą "This is your fault." - "You literally came up with the idea." - "I have bad ideas all the time, you're not supposed to DO them."
âą "Okay hear me out." - "My lawyer has advised me not to hear you out." - "You don't have a lawyer." - "I'm getting one specifically for conversations with you."
âą "Nobody got hurt." - "Physically." . "Nobody got physically hurt." - "Yet." - "Nobody has gotten physically hurt yet, which is a win."
âą "I have a type." - "Yeah?" - "People who are bad for me and you specifically." - "That's not a type that's a pattern." - "Same thing."
âą "What's the worst that could happen." - "I have a list. It's laminated. I made it specifically for when you say that."
âą "Rate my decision making." - "Historically or right now." - "Both." - "Zero. Consistent zero across the board."
âą "You're the only person I trust." - "I dropped your birthday cake last year and told you it arrived like that." - "Yeah but you still got me a cake."
âą "I need your honest opinion." - "It's bad." - "You didn't see it yet." - "I've met you. It's bad."
âą "Why do you even keep me around." - "Honestly? Entertainment. And you're warm in winter."
âą "I wasn't thinking." - "First time for everything." - "I resent that." - "Statistically valid though."
âą "On a scale of fine to not fine." - "Remember that time in Prague." - "We don't talk about Prague." - "That fine."
âą "Nobody panic but." - "I'm already panicking." - "I haven't said anything yet." - "I know you. I'm getting ahead of it."
âą "Promise you won't be mad." - "Absolutely not, that's a trap and I won't fall for it."
âą "I have good news and bad news." - "Good news first." - "The car is fine." - "And the bad." - "Define car."
âą "You're my emergency contact." - "I know." - "You're listed as my next of kin." - "I know." - "You're also listed as my therapist, my lawyer, and my spiritual advisor." - "I know." - "Do you want to talk about that." - "Nope." - "Cool."
âą "I'm a responsible adult."- "You once called me crying because you got your sleeve caught in a door and didn't know what to do." - "I was panicking." - "For forty minutes." - "It was really stuck."
âą "I regret everything." - "No you don't." - "No I don't but I feel like I should." - "Same honestly."
Angel Soul (Hazbin Hotel Dead Dove Series Part 5) Chapter Forty Eight: Epilogue
TW: Slow burn, eventual smut, sub/bottom and internalised homophobic Vox who's in denial about it, lots of whump, angst and fluff and bullshit, trauma recovery, inappropriate use of a sentient IPad, Alastor taking a strong lead in the reader's destruction. Vox gets cucked (sex-favourable Asexual Alastor because i actually can't help myself), but gets the reader back. Plot getting THICC. Violence and gore present. Val gets into Angel Exorcist trafficking and ends up on the wrong side of a parable. VAL GETS SHANKED AND IT'S SO CATHARTIC. Justice for Angel Dust.
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You took Vox back to the apartment you two now shared, with his clothes being moved into the empty cupboards from all the clothes youâd insisted youâd never wear getting cleaned out. The room came to life with his memories and his cherished sentimental gadgets, gifts and decor, filling the space with a distinct sense of comfort. You found it remarkably easy to navigate your new role as both the Overlord of the underground shelters and the partner to a fallen megalomaniac, pushing his body around on the wheelchair until he was settled somewhere to plug into.
He was insanely obsessed with your new look, absolutely feral for the way your blood-tainted feathers caught the light of his screen, especially when it came to you riding him.
The hooks remained in your wings, with the metal cables dangling from them now sharpened into decorative points, like overdramatic earrings. Vox loved delivering gentle shocks through them as he massaged your wings, taking every moment he could to use any part of his body to worship yours.
The only thing that took a while was persuading all the kidnapped angels to come to the Hazbin Hotel for therapy.
Youâd tracked them all down remotely, after finding out you were now trapped by the Pentagram as much as any other sinner was down here.
Angel had been exceptional in getting the studios in line, firing and threatening off anyone who tried to sell off âproductsâ the way Valentino and those two directors had. The vile associates had gone deep underground, cleaning up after themselves as they kept out of sight for now.
It meant the exorcists no longer had owners, no longer bore the chains; but they still held the scars, and each of them came to the hotel without their wings.
Since there was no way to heal them back on, you gave each of them a choice. They could keep the wings as the dress they were made into, have you hide it for another day in case they changed their minds, or they could burn them.
Nearly every single angel chose the flames, as a way of washing clean what Val did to them in that prison.
The more angels that joined the hotel, the stronger the camaraderie grew.
Vaggi told her story, over and over again, while the exorcists held onto it like a lifeline, a chance of hope that one day they might heal enough to get their own wings back.
Charlie supported her wholeheartedly with counselling activities, sharing the obscene amount of joy and light that had brought Vaggi out of her own dark mind.
You lost touch with Alastor since the fight, though he never came to you with a reason. There was always that lingering reminder in everything you did, the looming ownership in exchange for your powerful deal. Yet, he had made no further moves to enforce or enact any demand for you. Not yet, anyway.
Luciferâs POV: The Two GoatsÂ
He sat alongside his old friend, perched on the highest mountain that surrounded the Pride Ring. She had taken new form over time, finding a place amongst the Seven Rings of Hell as a wanderer, unbelonging to any one Sin.
âYour story is as old as language can recall, millennia even. What i donât understand is why now, and why so many. In the original, wasnât there just two goats?â
âThere were, and there is now. You are merely casting judgement on the wrong party, dear friend. An easy mistake, i assure you.â
âThen... explain it to me. Enlighten me, Azazel. Burden me with your wisdom-â
âYou make a mockery of all, Lucifer, including the Lordâs will. You are fortunate he has the patience for such.â
âYeah, I'd have been smited forever ago if not. So?â
Azazel drew in a deep breath of the warm Hellish air before she began. âIt is not as simple as casting goats from a cliff anymore. The sins are rooted too deep, the evil too dark to forgive without consequence. In Hell especially, after a Holy War was declared, there had to be a cleansing.â
âOf angels?â
âNo. They merely carried the burden for their own sins, as such was for the souls who sought forgiveness so very many years ago. Our two goats of present day have bore the lots bestowed from the suffering of the unforgiven, and endured the fate that granted their healing. Two goats; two lots. The first lot carried the weight of desecrated angels, and thus the sinner who bore such a lot was sent to the Lord in his name. The other lot was bestowed to a second sinner, a scapegoat, and sent to the wilderness as before. The comparison was... perhaps a little on the nose, what with the scapegoatâs limbs being utterly shattered, and the sinner of this ritual having been tore from his own.â
âThe angels, theyâre... not the goats? Theyâre the sins!â
âYes. Each angel has been sworn to lose their Heavenly wings, tying them to the sinner, or âgoatâ, through sacrifice. We have the wings of the uncaptured angel, which had been cut off during one of the many exterminations, alongside her eyeball. The latter of which we secured as a penance of sight, adding to the cleanse. The final angel, the one with her physical wings intact yet immeasurably tainted, is now bound to Hell by sin and servitude. We do not care for literal interpretations, so long as the ritual is complete.â
âI get that, i just donât understand why the one who turned into a demonic Overlord was essentially âforgivenâ for all the sins she committed. Isnât she basically evil herself now?â
âEvil is part of the human nature, Lucifer. As is the good. No, she was the lot bore to the scapegoat, carrying a prayer she whispered in a time of fear, heard through the Lordâs might. All she had asked was for saviour of her sisters. It was a prayer sent from a soul who had understood and sought to atone for her own transgressions, as well as those of her people, the exorcists. Sheâd seen the iniquities, known the sins that each had committed, and asked the Lord for forgiveness for them. Perhaps in not so gracious wording, yet the intent remained. Do you understand now?â
âI... believe so. Itâs been a little while since i dealt with any holy command or anything like that. Is this going in a new bible?â
Azazel smiled, a glimmer of amusement in her viper-like eyes. âOnly through the telling of mysterious dreams and tall tales. Wonders hidden in works of the people, whispers in the depths of fantasy. One day, someone might even tell the full story, and none would be any the wiser to the truth of it. Such is the fickle nature of the human mind, is it not?â
Lucifer met her smile with one of his own, thinking back to the long span of misunderstandings and mistakes all tied in to religious interpretation. âThat it is. Tell me, what ever did happen to that second goat? The one cast into the wilderness, red string turning white as it got thrown off the cliff...â
Azazel cast a glance across the city, looking over the districts and their shifting territories with secured peace in her mind. âI do believe, if memory serves me correct, it was found and nursed back to health. Never the same, never to be known for the sacrifice it carried, but saved.â
âIs it wrong to be jealous of a goat?â
Her eyes sparkled, alight with humour and the knowledge she held. âMost certainly not. Especially with how much promise your own future seems to hold, Lucifer Morningstar. For all our sakes, i do hope you find happiness.â
Angel Soul (Hazbin Hotel Dead Dove Series Part 5) Chapter Forty Seven: Nachos in the Sky
TW: Slow burn, eventual smut, sub/bottom and internalised homophobic Vox who's in denial about it, lots of whump, angst and fluff and bullshit, trauma recovery, inappropriate use of a sentient IPad, Alastor taking a strong lead in the reader's destruction. Vox gets cucked (sex-favourable Asexual Alastor because i actually can't help myself), but gets the reader back. Plot getting THICC. Violence and gore present. Val gets into Angel Exorcist trafficking and ends up on the wrong side of a parable. VAL GETS SHANKED AND IT'S SO CATHARTIC. Justice for Angel Dust.
The moment we've been waiting for, vengeance wrapped in soul-crushing heartbreak. If you stuck around for the entire ride, i hope you get to enjoy this scene with all the pain and promise it deserves. And if not, and you're just here to see Valentino get a little karma? Be my guest đœïžâš
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You followed Velvette as she carried the lanky moth over her shoulders, struggling down the ladder as his frame engulfed hers. You let her make the effort for him, knowing she didnât want the help.
Down the spiralling staircase, along the metal corridor, back to the angelic prison where theyâd lost their wings to this very monster.
The door opened, with three very powerful beings already inside.
Lucifer, squatting next to a very bloody but alive Alastor, while a serpentine demon with viper-like eyes stood calmly near the decimated cage. You met her gaze, automatically tensing for a fight.
Lucifer held up his palm, warning you back with a look. You studied the unflinching expression on the stranger, the calm in Luciferâs poise, the will to live in Alastorâs every forceful breath as he healed under Luciferâs glowing palm.
Velvette stood frozen beside you, with the massive frame of Valentino still coughing up blood, wheezing with small gasps of pain.
The serpent stepped to the side of the shattered orb, watching you intently.
Her movement wasnât judgement or patience; it was an invitation.
âVelvette... i think itâs timeâ you whispered, staring down into the mangled remains of your cage.
Velvetteâs whole body shuddered, jostling Val as she took a few small steps forward, intimidated by the powerful demons watching her approach.
She sank to her knees, resting Valentino back with far more care than he was owed. A final kindness for the demon she used to call âfriendâ.
You saw as he met her eyes, a relief in his expression that betrayed the lack of understanding.
Her face contorted, a sting of regret and loss hitting her all at once.
âI... i canât. I canât do this. Heâs my... heâs everything. A brother. I canât-â
âThen make your decision, Velvette. You know i wonât be kind. I wonât be quick. Iâll starve him, beat him, tear bone from muscle, render his sanity into shreds. I want to. If you care about him that much, youâd make it gentle.â
The Overlord began to break down, tears rolling freely, gold shimmering across her hands and wrists compelling her to complete her deal. You came closer, feeling each step bring you deeper into a fate you chose for yourself.
The high was fading. Your muscles were tense, but unbound by soreness. Your wrist healed, the bullet wounds sealing shut. Golden flames licked at the edges of your feathers, turning a crimson red that stained the edges of your wings in the blood of sinners youâd killed.
The serpent held her hand up, summoning a sacrificial knife with delicate scripture in symbols you couldnât read etched into the blade. Paler than angelic steel, this blade was the purest form of metal you had ever seen. Even the handle seemed carved with a living entity in the grains, a slow undulation of the black streaks as if the wood was shifting and reforming by the second.
When your hand reached out to take it, you saw the black creep up your fingertips, seeping through the skin up to the forearm, vivid red taking over your claws.
The moment you touched the blade, your fate was sealed.
The changes became permanent, a new darkness to your soul that tethered you to Hell as the sinner, and the shield. Protecting your sisters and all those who Valentino had hurt was worth the price of damnation.
Velvette looked up, the same fear crossing her expression as youâd seen in the many faces that surrounded Valentino; her eyes silently screaming, donât make me do this, please, i donât want to do this!
You lowered gently to your own knees beside him, letting your gaze wander over the pitiful moth as he laid back in the shards of metal and broken glass, his face not turning to you. In the slew of pain, the concussion, the exhaustion, he could only see her. His little sister in the Hellish plane. His best friend.
She ducked her head to his, cheek to cheek, her tears dampening his face. Her shaking hand reached over to you, the fingers extended blindly. You passed her the blade, genuine sorrow for the loss she felt before sheâd even let him go.
âH-hey Val, youâre gonna be okay, alright? Yeah? You and me. Weâll get nachos and wings. Weâll watch âPretty Girlâ and do our nails. Weâll make fun of Vox and buy shit we donât need just to piss off the accountants. Weâll take the blimp up for a joyride, drinking champagne and tequila above everyone else in this shithole. Just us. And one day, weâll get to show everyone whoâs the baddest bitches again. But... not today. Today weâre gonna... weâll...â
He croaked out a cough, licking the blood from his lips before he managed to tell her âthat sounds nice, chiquita. Can i have a nap? Iâm so tired...â
âYes baby, you... you have a nap. Iâll keep an eye out, alright? Youâre safe.â
He smiled peacefully, too dazed to think any longer.
She counted five slow snores, pressing her lips to his forehead as he slept, before ramming the knife straight into his heart.
His body jittered, spasming under the sudden assault; yet, as his body overcame with shock, he didnât scream, nor struggle. He lay frozen, eyes shut, mouth agape, while the blade took on a divine glow that rippled beautiful rays of light. Pale as the feathers heâd carved from the angelâs backs, the light now pouring from his chest shone across Velvetteâs cheeks, highlighting each tear that fell on his face. His blood trickled freely, slowing as the pulse no longer urged it to flow.
Velvette sensed as he finally died, his soul no longer in his body. You heard it in the way she sobbed, screaming into his shoulder, clutching his body as she let go of the knife to cradle him.
The serpent waved her hand, the blade disappearing from the sheath of his chest, leaving only a bloodied wound and a heartbroken Overlord.
Lucifer took Alastor in his arms, even to the muted objections of a barely conscious Radio Demon. You tilted your head, receiving a reassuring half-smile from the King to confirm his ward was okay, just obviously tired and in pain.
The echo of you and Lucifer leaving the room sounded harrowing in the cold metal as Velvette sobbed.
Just as you turned to check if the serpent was following, you saw her dissipating into a dark glittering cloud of black and grey, thinner than smoke. Her eyes were the last to fade, watching you intently until the air claimed her fully.
You felt your own body shudder with foreboding, eyes lingering on the macabre chamber for a few more seconds before following Lucifer out.
Velvette sat across from you at the broadcasting desk, her eyes downcast and cold, but listening. You were central in the chair, while Vox sat on the armrest, one ankle casually crossed on the other knee as his arm rested behind your back.
This body still required the plug sockets, but youâd found clever work-arounds for the time being until his other one had been finished.
At least now, since it had been a few weeks of rebuilding from the ashes, you all felt ready to finally sit down and broker a new treaty.
The door to the broadcast room opened, with Angel and Husk laughing almost the entire way to the desk with their inside jokes and sarcasm. When they finally drew near enough, they stifled back the laughter, keeping close as they took the opposite side of the desk to Velvette.
âMorning, boys. Glad you could join us this time.â
âHey, not my fault you canât plan ahead. Weâre here now, toots. So, you were saying about this big, juicy business deal?â
Vox leaned forward fractionally, his eyes darting to you, a brow raised to ask permission. Your mouth ticked up, entertained that the last few days of breaking him down and scraping him back up off the floor as a drooling, sopping mess had left him a little more obedient. You gave a tiny bow of your head, letting him make the offer.
âWe, the remaining two Vees, have an opening, in a very broad sense. The studio brand has expanded far across Pride, with branches in Lust and Envy, that now need reforming into something a little more respectable. The deals our ex-associate made are unacceptable to our image. Now, we all have a pretty shitty history. This isnât water under the bridge. But maybe, for the sake of a lot of soon-to-be unemployed and helpless souls, we can come together to make something work for them?â
You rolled your eyes, almost wishing youâd just spoken. âWhat he means, without all the political bullshit, it we donât know how to run a porn studio. Gambling sure, could probably wing that. But porn has intricacies, and Angel, youâve been a leader in the circuit for a long time. You ALSO became an Overlord recently, which took me by damned surprise-â
âIt was an accident and you know it, baby. But yeah, it happened, and it sounds like I'm about to get a whole ânotha promotion too. Youâre basically asking me to be Val?â
âNOâ Velvette cut in, a fierce glare in her eyes, before biting back the temper and cooling her tone; âNo. You wonât be Val, and you wonât ever go as fucking insane as he did. Youâll be your own fucking dickhead, with your own fucking problems, and weâll probably have to deal with that too. You just need to get a hold of the studios that are running all the shady shit Val set up, get it all up to code, and get some proper deals in place so it doesnât go all âblack market murder pornâ again. Same with the tower. Turns out, he had some real nasty deals going on here, which weâve stopped dead, but thereâs still interest. Get a hold of all that, keep the profits rolling, and you can have all the fame and fortune that comes with this tower. Canât really call it the Veesâ no more, but I'm sure Voxâll think of some dumb shit to call it instead.â
âThat will come in time, Vel. Weâll leave it as it is, me and you are still basically the faces of the whole company. One which weâll have a lot more control over now, and some very good connections!â
Husk snorted, amused; âthose connections are only as good as you make them. Piss off any of the hotel staff and theyâll ALL turn on ya. Remember Al still owns her ass too, so youâre on a pretty short leash.â
âAll in hand, my friend, donât you worryâ Vox preened, an air of confidence that he always seemed to project when he was in a body. âThatâs the beauty of give and take, we always have room for negotiation. Alastor has been a force of nature in Hell since he arrived, and will continue to be for a long time. Just like all of us will.â
You slid your hand into Voxâs elbow, silently praising him for not taking the bait.
In the following few hours, you all brokered terms, discussed the direction of the company, decided on what needed removing from the brand completely, and other logistics such as who owned and ran each floor.
By the end of it you were all hungry, slightly grumpy, but relieved to have not butchered one of the biggest Overlord mergers Hell had seen in decades.
Angel Soul (Hazbin Hotel Dead Dove Series Part 5) Chapter Forty Six: Vengeance of Angels
TW: Slow burn, eventual smut, sub/bottom and internalised homophobic Vox who's in denial about it, lots of whump, angst and fluff and bullshit, trauma recovery, inappropriate use of a sentient IPad, Alastor taking a strong lead in the reader's destruction. Vox gets cucked (sex-favourable Asexual Alastor because i actually can't help myself), but gets the reader back. Plot getting THICC. Violence and gore present. Val gets into Angel Exorcist trafficking and ends up on the wrong side of a parable. VAL GETS SHANKED AND IT'S SO CATHARTIC. Justice for Angel Dust.
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At that, everyone set off.
Angel acted calm, putting on the show of a leisurely stroll to avoid suspicion. He went via the public corridors to get to the server room, leaving the bedroom door wide. Vaggi and Lucifer rushed down the passageway as he squinted into his phone to type. You gave it a few seconds before doing anything, waiting by the glass, listening. The hatch was lifted, followed shortly by the King promptly falling down it, knocking Vaggi off the ladder she was halfway down. You were a little too high to not laugh, stifling giggles. You made sure you heard the hatch close, shutting the sliding door to try and slow the water from getting to the underground prison, buying them a little more time.
Almost in slow motion, you watched as your fist connected with the tank wall, easily forcing through the barrier as it shattered into pretty fractals. There was a couple seconds of physics taking hold before a massive gush of water crashed through; the pressure opened the hole in the tank wider, forcing a torrent of chilled water straight into the studio floor. You leapt onto the bed, dodging the main stream, before taking a leap and flying through the narrow doorway.
Electrical systems were already going haywire, with multiple shouts overlaying the jittering music. Lights flickered as the water flushed into the power sockets, fizzing and sparking with a strong hum of electric jolting through the water. You heard a few blood-curdling screams as the shocks got to them, before the power went out completely.
That was cue enough for you to kick your way into the closed-off studio lounge, shrouded in darkness as the blacklights flickered every few seconds, revealing stop-motion flashes of teeth and neon painted bodies.
Demons charged forward, making a hasty exit, tripping and scrambling over each other in the rushing water. Emergency lighting came on, illuminating the small space in a putrid green glow, revealing the demons stood on the booth cushions, keeping out of the water. Two bright-pink glittery suited demons glared at you, mirroring the fury on Valentinoâs face as he too crouched on the chair. His wings lifted high, keeping from getting wet, while Velvette summoned a poll on her social media, creating a spinning ring of orbs ready to fire; sized like a catherine wheel, mimicking the chamber of a revolver. You took a crouch on the table near the door, measuring the postures of each threat, taking note of the cowardice in which the demons either side of the leaders held their shaking guns.
Behind them, bound by thick chains and large shackles around their necks, were two terrified looking angels.
Your heart stilled, wishing more than anything you were seeing wrong.
The recognition in Roryâs eyes confirmed the worst.
Projectiles shot from all angles; regular bullets ricocheted off you or missed completely, leaping and darting around the room as you got them to waste their bullets. Velvetteâs magic was easier to dodge as the colours were far brighter in the dark room, but did far more damage to the furniture with small explosions, making it harder to find things to rebound off from. Val had come prepared, landing a couple of hits with angelic steel through one wing, making you crash into the bar with a loud shattering of half-poured liquor from the shelves.
The bullets began to run out and reload, giving you the chance to charge.
Velvette immediately took off, using her powers to get high, sending small blasts in your wake. You only had eyes for Valentino, kicking one of the pink suits aside as you went hand-to hand combat with the moth.
He fought fucking dirty, trying to grab the hooks on your wings and sneak in kicks, managing to grab your wounded wrist while you were deflecting the second pair of arms. Far stronger than him, you wrenched him around, forcing his back to take the full force of two of Velvetteâs blasts.
Bursts of flame took to the wing, halfway through a scream that you cut off with merciless glee.
Your hand gripped around his throat, holding tight enough to cut off the airway, but not to break the vertebrae. Yet.
The door crashed back open, forcing through the water as backup arrived. Unfortunately, it wasnât YOUR backup.
As the new demons pointed their guns and moved to fire, Valentino got in his punishing kick. You flew across the space, smacking back into the wall, meeting a spray of regular bullets that made your skin sting. You shielded your face so you could see, only just narrowly avoiding the blast from Velvetteâs summoned arrow.
A comical cry and a yelp came from the door, followed by the distinct sounds of fighting from outside in the studio corridor. You scrambled out of the water, ducking from another of Valâs bullets, cursing him out as the narrow space cut off any chance of using flight to your advantage.
Voxâs voice thunder-clapped over the speakers, low and mocking, but very distinctly laced with pride.
âHello! My esteemed guests, i hope youâve been having a good party. I must say, youâve been quite the troublesome guests. Now, letâs make things a little more exciting, shall we?â
You laughed once, a grin of relief taking over, climbing up the wall to get free of the current you knew was about to electrify the water.
The music came on, a powerful bass that shook pictures off the walls, making the demons cover their ears.
The water came alive with lightning, crackling with dazzling arcs and brilliant fizzles, catching all who dared be in reach. Val scrambled onto the back of the booth, alongside one of the Hellborns he was with; the other wasnât so lucky, being too close to a very tired and pissed off fallen exorcist. Now you could see the hands as they wrapped around his neck and forced his head into the water; the angelic steel had bruised the skin into dark greys and golds, catching the green emergency lights in sickening marks, the muscles beneath straining from the desire to exact revenge.
Val screeched, reloading his gun and cocking it at Rory, the trigger finger moving almost as fast as you did.
You leapt from the wall, thinking of nothing but protecting her; the shield flashed bright where you willed it, forming such a vivid outpour of gold that it dazzled Val, his bullets carelessly ricocheting off without a single indent.
The second you landed in the water, the lightning shattered your focus.
Velvette screeched a laugh as you jittered and splashed, fighting to stay still enough to get to your feet. The electricity cut off immediately, proving that someone was indeed controlling the power, and they were on your side.
You splashed into a stand, claws bared, catching the shift in Valentinoâs glance as he saw something behind you. Dropping to the water on instinct, the thrown weapon whizzed above you, a gleam of steel that was alarmingly pale.
Also alarming was the decreasing volume of water; you were losing your advantage.
Charlie and Cherri came rushing through, chasing Velvette down. The flash of Charlieâs gold, Velvetteâs purple, and Cherriâs pink made the place into a rave, playing a game of dodging more than fighting.
You made it over to the two angels as more fighters came rushing in, now joined by Vaggi with her spear. You grabbed the chain from the D-ring set in the wooden platform, wrenching Rory free first, then the other angel you hadnât recognized. One of Amaraâs girls who youâd met once or twice; she had far less trust for you, flinching away the second she was freed.
You tried to help them move, spinning as Roryâs eyes widened in horror.
Valentinoâs gun pressed to the back of Vaggiâs head as he held her up, Charlieâs cry a pinched scream as Cherri held her back, yelling about angelic steel bullets.
âCheckmate, bitch! You want this cunt to live? BACK OFF-â
His head rocked sideways, the gun firing upwards as Vaggi ducked, missing her completely.
Angel stood behind him, eyes burning with scorned rage, holding the smoking gun with a sneer. You met his eyes, understanding the meaning. He gave you a single nod. Permission.
It was all you needed.
Charlie and Cherri deflected Velvette, keeping her off your back.
Angel held off the Hellbornâs reinforcements, his bullets flying in a merciless spray.
The two pink suits were scrambling against two small figures that were popping out of the darkness, raining sneaky attacks. The movements were so quick, it was like a dance; occasionally revealing the silvery needle-like blade of Nifftyâs favourite weapon, or the bright jolts of electricity from Baxterâs high-voltage taser.
Val tripped back, nearly falling over on the low stage, grabbing onto the pole for support.
You tucked your wings back, coiling to leap, meeting his eyes as they locked onto you.
Your legs shot you forward in tandem with the bullet fired from his gun.
It almost didnât work how youâd intended, a single second of delay when trying to throw out a shield. Youâd spied that one scared face as she leapt for the weapon, Rory risking her life yet again for your stupid decisions.
If you hadnât been so scared for her, wanting to protect her, you might not have been able to form the shield in time.
It raised against your palms just before the bullet met it, flattening the angelic steel with a useless tinkle as your massive shield blocked Val from seeing you, or from noticing the angel slamming into his right.
Rory, engulfed with a soul-aching rage, with sheared-short hair and abused fury, laid into him without mercy.
You heard bones crack, watched blood spill, heard the wheeze of cracked ribs.
Amongst it all, you saw an angel whoâd lost herself to the torture.
You put your hand on Roryâs shoulder, gently holding her back from killing him like this. She froze, shaking like a newborn fawn, staring back at you with terror in her eyes. Your palm cupped around her cheek, pressing your forehead to your sisterâs, before throwing her back across the room. She hit the wall with a crash, two purple blasts landing exactly where she had been two seconds before. You turned and faced Velvette, who threw a shield of her own up against Charlie and Cherri, verbally warning you back from Valentino.
The moth was slumped against the pole, hanging his head limply as blood trickled from his face, neck, abdomen, and leg. He could hardly breathe in his state, let alone fight.
He hadnât had pity nor mercy for you when youâd been at your weakest; it was hardly reasonable to consider anything kinder for him.
âDonât you fucking dare. I see what youâre thinking. You fucking kill him, and youâll be just as bad as the fucking rest of us. A monster. A sinner.â
âThatâs what i AM. I know i belong here. And i know he doesnât. Pride canât handle a soul as fucked up and cruel as his, but he canât leave to any other Ring. The only option left is to hand him back to God himself. I gave you an offer, Velvette. It still stands.â
She sneered, shivering with rage, magic sparking in pretty fireworks at her fingertips.
The room fell into complete blackness; every emergency light, every flash and blast, ceasing in a matter of seconds. Velvetteâs shield was the only glow, reforming into a circular spinning wall of âblockedâ signs to defend herself from all angles.
Not everyone halted; but since no-one could see, no-one could fight.
She was trapped, with every single enemy around her waiting for that shield to drop, knowing she couldnât escape fast enough to dodge the multiple fatal weapons.
In her body, you saw the rage falter into visceral fear.
In her hands, came the violent shaking and unsteady force as she held the shield spinning faster, her last resort to stay alive.
But it was the look in her eyes that confirmed it was all finally over.
In her expression, you finally saw that one moment you searched for in every angel youâd persuaded to leave the exorcist army.
Acceptance.
You straightened up, letting your wings hang limp, raising your chin as your voice rang clear; âVox, baby, please turn on the lights.â
You heard the disembodied laughter as he brought power back to the emergency lighting, not risking setting the soaked floor into another wave of shocks. It contrasted eerily with Velvetteâs shield, a mesmerizing image of doom as the trapped Overlord spun her head at every surrounding threat. Everyone else who had stood with Valentino had been incapacitated or subdued, leaving her sorely exposed and utterly vulnerable.
She finally met your eyes, lingering there as she swallowed, suddenly looking far younger.
Charlie spoke, clear and commanding; âEveryone, stand down, but keep your weapons out. This battle is over. Velvette, Valentino, weâre bringing you-â
âNo, Charlie. Stop. There is no forgiveness, no redemption. Not this time.â Your voice carried just as clear as hers, a reckoning of your own will ready to be delivered.
âThereâs ALWAYS a chance for redemption. You donât get to make that decision. Yes theyâve gone too far, and yes we have a LOT to work on. But we donât execute, we donât sentence. We teach, and we learn. Stand down.â
You didnât look at Charlie. You didnât need to.
Velvette lowered her shield, holding your gaze steady. Sheâd heard what you said. Knew you werenât talking about her.
She took cautious steps over to you, her hands shaking by her side. The others watched her cautiously, expecting a trick, ready to fire non-angelic weapons if she tried anything.
âLet me get him out of here. Heâs in no fit state, and weâre in a room full of volatile demons and some fucking angels. Iâll... take him somewhere private.â
You stared her down, watching for any signs of deceit. From the steadiness in her gaze and the grim set of her jaw, you believed she was really going to follow through.
It didnât hurt to make a deal out of it, though.
Holding your hand out silently, you implored her to prove it.
To anyone else watching, they assumed you were making a deal with Velvette about her taking Val away to be safe from other demons.
If you kill Val, Iâll let you live.
As she reached her own hand out, meeting yours, the pact became sealed. Gold ribboned around the two of you in wide streaks, small circular discs like tiny versions of your shield flowing through the sorcery. The light receded, leaving only the knowledge held between you and Velvette promising either the end of her life, or Valentinoâs.
The tension in the room simmered, with Charlie warning back the Hellborn guests and their associates, having them be escorted from the building.
Vox and whoever was with him managed the technical side of things, restoring power where they safely could, sending an urgent repair team into the room with the cracked tank wall now the waterline was just below it.
The Hazbin Hotel team checked each other over, confirming no major concerns to freak out about. They got the keys from the Hellborns, supporting the two angels out of their shackles. Vaggi in particular held both of them tight, pouring her own regret into not realizing they were missing sooner. The angels, having seen the horrors beyond your own comprehension, were too numbed to either reassure or object. They looked to you for guidance, to which you nodded your head in Vaggiâs direction, gesturing for them to follow her back to the Hazbin Hotel.
As bodies gradually left the room, Luciferâs absence bothered you.
Was something that wrong with Alastor that he couldnât help in the fight?
Was there something even worse happening out there?
Angel Soul (Hazbin Hotel Dead Dove Series Part 5) Chapter Forty Five: Strings of Fate Intertwining
TW: Slow burn, eventual smut, sub/bottom and internalised homophobic Vox who's in denial about it, lots of whump, angst and fluff and bullshit, trauma recovery, inappropriate use of a sentient IPad, Alastor taking a strong lead in the reader's destruction. Vox gets cucked (sex-favourable Asexual Alastor because i actually can't help myself), but gets the reader back. Plot getting THICC. Violence and gore present. Val gets into Angel Exorcist trafficking and ends up on the wrong side of a parable. VAL GETS SHANKED AND IT'S SO CATHARTIC. Justice for Angel Dust.
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As soft as butter, the regular steel yielded beneath your grip as you tugged the exit door free from its locks, an awkward bend to the yanked hinges. You threw one quick glance over at Alastor, silently reiterating your promise to return.
For just a second, a streak of white caught your eye, drawing you to notice the long row of locked cupboards just across the wall from Alastor. The metal doors had blended near perfectly with the walls and floors, only remarkable now as you noticed the obscenely crisp white through a tiny gap between connecting doors. Your head tilted, a curiosity you couldnât resolve tugging you forward, despite the urgency of your mission.
Something about the brilliance of the white, the way it almost shone through the gap.
Too pure to be anything from Hell.
You crossed the floor almost as if floating, feeling a wave of unease take hold; slipping your fingers into the handles, you held your breath and carefully eased the doors open.
Almost as if curved in dance, the wing had been poised in a delicate curve around soft gold fabric, glistening with utter beauty. The feathers were pure, holy, divine; the subtle glow gave it away. These werenât fake. They were the real thing.
On the frame of a headless mannequin, the dress appeared ready for a grand ball in Heaven itself, the kind of beauty that only a Godly being should be allowed to wear. And yet, it remained in Hell, clearly designed with the morbid desires of a demon in mind.
The world stopped spinning as your fingers brushed the soft feathers, heart aching for your sisters.
You looked left, counting the number of doors, fear spiralling as you realized there was a chance a dress lurked behind each one. Fourteen slender doors, fourteen potential dresses.
You opened each one, finding dress after dress, each unlocking a part of your mind which swore crueller and longer deaths for all whoâd touched an angel like this.
Behind the thirteenth door, there was no dress on the mannequin. Only a nametag, which you hadnât noticed on any of the other dresses, too distracted by the unspeakable horrors.
It just said âBLUEâ.
You knew instantly this wasnât a suggestion for what colour to dye the fabric.
Your hand shook as you reached the final door, heart stopping as you saw the nameplate beneath the empty mannequin, with a spelling that was no longer even correct; âVAGGIEâ.
Alastorâs static broke your frozen stare; glancing back at him with an almost pleading look, wishing he could speak, to tell you it was a lie. He could only furrow his brows at you, imploring you to move on.
Your own wings rattled as you turned, the embedded hooks now dangling like earrings from the bends. Leaving both the Radio Demon and the wings of your sisters behind, you held only pure wrath in your soul.
The slim corridor had similarly dark metal lining all the way through, leading to a winding staircase. You climbed it with growing determination, fuelled rather than fettered by the high. It made the bloodlust stronger, softened the aches, distracted from the fear. There was just you, and the slaughter you craved.
At the top, a short ladder led to a manual hatch, a curious exit for such a high-tech company.
Learning where you were revealed why.
An extension of Valentinoâs studio, blocked off by a false wall, with not one single camera in sight; this place was made to not be seen or detected by anyone other than him.
You studied the space as you found the near-invisible door, sliding it manually as it opened up into one of the worst places of your afterlife, no more reassuring than the cage youâd just been in.
Your old studio bedroom welcomed you, only partially shrunk from the secret wall now hiding the passage. Your old mirror hid the secret door, with no surveillance visible in this room too.
There wasnât enough hatred left to stack onto the abhorrence you already carried.
Outside of the room, a dulled bass thudded the walls, far enough away to indicate the main studio lounge had been closed off. You mentally walked through the cameras you knew were installed in the corridor, well aware that you were going to be hunted the very second you were in eyeline of ANY technology. It forced you into two choices; find some convoluted way out to call for help, risking yet another capture... or take a gamble on crashing the party as an army of one.
You sorely wished your room had been near a goddamn window.
Although... it wasnât far from a shark tank.
The idea hit with a pitchy giggle, beginning to tear into the plaster and wood in the walls like it was breaking down all the heartache that had formed in the confines of this studio, this room. You tore, grinning wide enough to split your face open, gripping and bracing to tear with renewed energy. The crack and splinter of the wooden frame invigorated you, a climbing thrill only heightened by the Love Potionâs blissful effects.
The moment you saw the shimmering blue peeking through the wall, you felt the taste of justice.
Shredding enough of the remaining wall out of the way to give yourself a decent span of glass to work with, you remembered that the door opened inwards, not out. You hummed cheerily to yourself as you crossed the room, opening the door to the hallway.
The bright corridor welcomed you, alongside a very surprised face.
You froze, eyes wide as saucers, staring into Angel Dustâs pretty irises, hardly clocking on to the slutty get-up.
He lunged at you, though the body language didnât say attack; it screamed hide. You leapt back, blinking in shock as he fell over and scrambled up, shutting the door with panic in his expression.
In a shocked hiss, he whispered; âwhat the FUCK are you doing? Why are you fucking naked? And bleeding? AND NAKED?!â
âShhhh! Iâm trying to fucking escape, asshole. What are YOU doing here?!â
âTrying to rescue Al! And apparently you, now! Iâm the bait, while the others are trying to find a way down to where theyâre keeping him. Seriously, can you put some clothes on? Thatâs real fuckinâ distracting-â
âOkay, okay. Fineâ you muttered, glancing around. Your old wardrobe still stood, yet hardly anything was left in it, mostly taken over by generally indecent outfits for multiple whores to use. You picked out a pretty leather set, beginning your dazed humming again.
Angel spun you around, staring into your eyes in disgust. âBabycakes are you high? Fuck... how the shit am i supposed to keep you safe like this? Jesus shit-â
âIâll be fine. Iâm leaving soon anyway. Was gonna go make the studios a little slippery first. Wanna help?â
âWhat? Slippe- oh fucking shit, is that the fish tank?!â
You followed his gaze, where the distant shadow of two sharks passed by in blissful peace. âYup. Big fishies. Good boys. Shocky used to be in there... wait, wait,â you shook your head, trying to clear the daze, âyou said others. Is there anyone with you here, in the tower?â
âNot specifically in here, no. They should still be outside âtil i give them the go-ahead that Alâs not in the party itself. Weâre kinda blind here, since Vox thinks thereâs some tech genius on the evil team keeping an eye on all our messages and shit.â
âVox?... youâre shitting me, Vox is NOT helping you?â
âOh yeah. Heâs the one practically leading the charge, even from the arms of his assistant. Heâd fight Val himself if we let him.â
You groaned, rubbing your temples, the vivid imagery of the flailing cables of an angry television too embarrassing to take seriously. âGod heâs so fucking stupid. I love him so goddamn much. Right, Val. Yeah. Dead man walking. No, wait, you wanted to know about Alastor? Yeah, you can get to him down the stairs in here, itâs where i just came from.â
Angel, beyond stunned at how easy this was, followed you to the mirror, watching as you slid the secret door to the dark passage.
âYou. Are. Fucking. Shitting me.â
âI mean, do you think Iâm sober enough to lie?â
He arched a brow, smirking at the massive pupils with teeny tiny rims of gold. âFair. Well, this makes things interesting. One sec, gotta get creative.â
He pulled out his phone, sitting on the edge of your old bed. You scowled at the clean sheets, minorly wishing they were on fire.
Peeking over his shoulder, you checked to see who he was texting; to your surprise, it was Husk.
Hey hot stuff, wonât be home tonight, thereâs a big party in the studio lounge. Gonna be a real good one, bumping into old friends from work already
He hadnât sent it yet, clearly deliberating as his fingers hovered over the keys.
âWhat does any of that even mean? Surely youâre not actually-â
âNo dumbass, itâs code. Iâm telling everyone through Husk that the party IS on, and that I've found YOU, but i didnât exactly have a code ready for that so I'm trying to think of what to say. Any ideas?â
âTry this...â You took the mobile, correcting it to something you figured might make more sense, you hoped.
Hey hot stuff, found something fun to take home tonight. Looks really good in blue. Thinking we can try using the back way tonight. Wanna come find out?
Angel snickered at the double-entendre, commending your wording.
A few seconds later, a bright flash of flame made you squint; dazzling and divine, a portal revealed Luciferâs stunned face, breaking into a huge grin as he jumped through, followed by Vaggi. His arms wrapped around you tight, suddenly reminding you of the deep-seated muscle pain that had hidden behind waves of bliss.
At your groan, he released you, worry etched in his expression. In the background you could make out Husk, stood by the Hazbin Hotel bar, giving you a cocky wave. You flipped him off, smiling from the gesture.
The portal closed, Luciferâs apple cane tightly clutched in his hands, looking between the three of you with apprehensiveness. âOkay, so, uh, this is new. In a good way? Uh... yeah, didnât think weâd get this far. Is that the mission over?â
You looked at him with contempt, amazed heâd be this ignorant to the entire situation.
Vaggi spoke first.
âSir, with respect, weâre nowhere near done. This is a surprise, a good one, but itâs only just started. Blue, you look like shit. Have you literally been kept in a cage all this time? Were there other angels with you, or Alastor?â
âAlastor yes, other angels not so much. Just... parts...â
Your head went fuzzy, a strange slur in your voice as you felt confusion begin to take hold. The deal, the goddamn fucking deal, of course...
You realized you hadnât had any issue speaking to Angel, though the dizziness was palpably strong with Vaggi. Had Angel made it to Overlord status?!
You looked curiously to Angel, forcing your mind through the confusion as you studied him intently, looking for any single signs of being powerful in any way.
Honestly? Aside from being dolled up for this mission, he didnât look any different.
Vaggi snapped her fingers in front of your face, breaking your study. You blinked at her, biting back speech, afraid of letting any more dizziness take hold.
âHey, you with me? I saw that. You went off as soon as you talked to me, not Lucifer. Is that the ill thing you mentioned?â
You nodded, glad sheâd twigged on without explaining.
âOkay, yeah. Kinda glad you werenât lying. Can you, uh, talk to Lucifer and tell him what you know?â
You gratefully turned to the King, relaying your side of the story, trying to keep it brief. He nodded, losing focus as he made quiet âyupâ, âahhâ, âuh huhâ noises throughout. Vaggi and Angel looked far more horrified, especially when it came to the âdresses made of wingsâ part.
âGuess that means the other girls are still alive, just being kept elsewhere for... God, i donât even want to know what. Weâll find them, i swearâ Vaggi promised, fixing her determined gaze on you.
You nodded once to her, looking over to Lucifer to speak, though he still seemed very distracted. âLucifer? You with us? Whatâs going on?â
He glanced up, seeming surprised, as if the world in his head had taken up all his attention. âYeah? Uh, sorry. Iâm just thinking. This all seems weird. The way youâre describing it all, like itâs some big mission to wipe out the previous existence of every exorcist angel thatâs stuck in Hell? Theyâve each been trapped, tortured, had their wings cut off, and not one trace is left of them out there aside from actual memory. It just... it seems way out of any demonâs league that i can think of. Itâs stumped even those nerdy guys for days, and thatâs WITH a supercomputer to dig through. I just... i have a hunch. And if I'm wrong, then you can call me the happiest Devil to ever dance. But... if I'm right? I donât necessarily think youâre coming out of this alive in the end, Blue.â
His tone had lowered to a pained whisper, genuine fear crossing his expression, along with something that made your gut twist; apology. Like there was nothing even HE could do.
Vaggi snatched his arm, demanding to know what the fuck he meant. He held his hands up, trying to mumble out deflections, ending your patience.
âGuys, shut it. Lucifer, is your âhunchâ going to affect rescuing Alastor?â
âIf we get there quick enough, probably not.â
âOkay, great. Will it affect whether Valentino survives the night?â
âHuh? Uh, probably not, no?â
âThen thatâs good enough for me.â
His eyes burned into yours, seeking beyond whatever he saw. It set you on edge, unable to look away, yet feeling the weight of a fallen seraphim casting sorrow like a goodbye.
Vaggi gave his arm a squeeze, trying to bring him back to the situation. âSir, thereâs a Hell of a lot going on right now, and i donât really understand any of it. Can we just get everyone out and safe, and THEN we can talk about whatever the fuck you meant about Blue?â
Lucifer swallowed roughly, turning his pained eyes on her, trying to force a false smile. Her stare fixed on his too, seeing the exact same as you did. He didnât think Vaggi was going to survive this, either.
Your stomach just about plummeted, your knees going weak. Angel saw, holding you up as you coughed against the wave of nausea. You pushed him back, pointing to the open secret passage. âDown there, Lucifer, is where youâll find Alastor. Heâs literally stapled to the wall, so you and Vaggi might be best off going together, since itâll take some decent strength to get him out. Angel? Where is everyone else?â
âCourtyard, in the bushes, waiting for another coded message.â
âWhatâs their plan?â
Vaggi interrupted, âThey were supposed to be the rescuers. Charlie, Baxter, Niffty, and Cherri. We were supposed to be the back-up in case we needed portals.â
You tried to ignore her enough to not get dizzy, speaking to Angel instead; âHow did Lucifer even know where âhereâ was, and why did he just blindly portal in on just a text?â
âVox gave me a tracker. It's detectable to all the crazy tech people here, but since itâs standard Voxtek shit, we figured itâd blend in with all the others in the building, including the one we found on his fuckinâ scooty thing. We basically agreed that if i gave any hint that i wanted him to show up, heâd just do it, no question.â
âItâs true, and we got the cat to do the interpreting, since he knew this guy would come up with some weird shit-â
âHey! I wasnât the one who even wrote that!âÂ
âGuys, seriously? Right. Lucifer, please go get Alastor out, take Vaggi. Angel, can you go cause some chaos? If you can get down so my old workplace-â
âDonât worry toots, chaos is my thing. Iâll have the place going nuts before ya know it. Pretty sure your boys are ready to rain Hell anyway. Good peeps.â
âNo kidding. Oh, uh, can someone text Charlie and tell her to hang fire? We might need backup later, donât want to show all our cards at once.â
Lucifer became nervous again, looking between you and Vaggi. âI... donât think thatâs a great idea. Youâre gonna need all the firepower you can get. Iâll text her; but when i do, itâll basically set off the whole thing like a bomb. No going back. You ready?â
Not if you keep looking at me like youâre already writing my eulogy.
