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★
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@transmitubed
ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ'ꜱ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ . . .
TRANSMITUBED – Follows back from HELLHOSTED. An independent, semi-selective role-play blog for an OC originating from HAZBIN HOTEL. penned by GB (25, they/them). MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. LOW ACTIVITY.
dark themes present, please proceed with caution.
carrd / promo / promo art credit
☓ BLOG ICONS KINDLY MADE BY @damnedrainbows !
ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ
His ears are flat against his head, trying to mitigate Hewlett's fall, cursing the timing of the boy's body deciding to stop the adrenaline rush.
The blood at his feet produces more than a little alarm, but Foster is trying his best to appear unflappable. The wound, from what he has access to, looks somewhat deep. How deep was impossible to know right now, but he had a hunch this had managed to knick Hewlett's lung. If he's lucky, the cut is small.
He hates gambling without knowing the steaks. He's hoping to Lucifer or whoever that his luck is turning.
"No, you are not dying." His hand hesitates for a moment over the wound before pressing down on it. He knows this will hurt. But he needs to try and stem the bleeding.
"I said you were fine, and I do not lie. But I need you to move as little as possible."
Not dying. Not dying. Okay – okay. He could work with that. His eyes shut briefly, trying to let the small allotted amount of comfort wash over him and ease his troubled breathing. Though, as reality swims in and out of focus, he comes to realize the rattling of his lungs isn't all blind panic; he's breathing hard because he has to. He shudders with the realization, gulping in a shuddering gasp –
– to release it in a scream.
It hurts. It hurts so much, a blinding pulse of agony that, for a terrifying moment that feels like it spans across hours but in reality only lasts seconds, it steals all his senses. His vision whites out, his ears ring. He doesn't even register his own screeching. It tapers off into a whimper right around the time he realizes his vice grip on Foster's arm, where he's no doubt incidentally zapped him as well.
He retches, blood dribbling down his chin.
What had he said? Not to move? He didn't hear him, he can't . . .
❝ P - please, Foster, ow, d - don't . . . please make it stop. ❞
The day after Foster met @transmitubed
It really did all happen before Alastor had the wherewithal to begin processing. He doesn't hear the other Sinner sneaking through the streets to follow them. He doesn't see the Sinner rush from an alley straight for Alastor, blade in hand. He doesn't hear nor see either of these, but he does witness Hewlett step in front of him.
And blood.
It's his fault for not paying attention.
The single mercy this bastard receives is that Alastor is far more concerned with his Hellborne charge than he is with the scrap of mean dangling from his claws. He has no time for torture when his inaction caused the boy to be hurt.
His fault.
Alastor grits his teeth, fur prickling as he throws the remnants of the Sinner to the side, going to the blue-haired boy with a slight hiss.
"It's fine."
Lie. Liar. But Hewlett is notorious for not doing well with anything stressful, and an abdominal wound can only be made worse by too much movement.
The blood on Alastor is not his own, and he doesn't have much of a chance to clean himself off before his hands push on Hewlett's shoulders, urging him to follow Alastor and sit down to give the deer demon a better look at the wound.
"You're fine, let me see--"
His fault.
Alastor's words, even if untrue, even if they are not much, are more of a comfort than he may realize. It's far more than the casual brushing away that he is used to receiving and, furthermore, a distraction from the looping panic of his thoughts. Hewlett swallows thickly, nodding, the world tilting and spinning as he does. He feels sick. He's – he's good and scared now, make no mistake. As much as he'd like to say he's more afraid than he's ever been, he knows that isn't true.
The prospect of losing Alastor had been far more frightening than what was happening to him now, and he had almost lost him before. He wouldn't let it happen again, and that fear was what had driven him to this exact position he found himself in now.
But it was fine. He was fine. Alastor said it was fine, and if he was certain of anything, he was certain that Alastor would not lie to him.
He follows easily, a bit clumsily. He feels off balance and off centered, dizzy, and the moment he shifts to sit is when the agony the adrenaline had been staving him from slams into him full force.
He would scream if he had the energy, but as it is, he lets out a noise akin to the wounded animal he is and promptly falls to the side. That's right, he'd been stabbed. He has no way to gauge how deep it is, but he knows that it's far more blood than he's ever seen coming out of his own body.
❝ Oww - F- Foster, sitting hurts, It's - oh, God, am I going to die ? ❞ He chokes then, a garbled, gasping sound leaving his throat as he chokes up more blood. This time, it splatters at Alastor's feet.
RING, RING !! @hellishtransmissions said . . . "Hewlett- you, me, Mario Kart, right now." -N.A.V
❝ Sure !! I call Rosalina though. ❞
RING, RING !! @thehazingang88 said . . . "As the clocktower ticks down to [ next cleanse: 1 day], tomorrow. Charlie in a state of panic makes her way across Pentagram City trying to convince as many sinners as possible to take shelter in in her hotel although she knows it's not indestructible but it's something. That's when she runs right into Hewlett she sees the ways which he resembles Alastor but also Vox but there's no time to ask questions.
" Opps sorry! You can take shelter at my hazbin hotel!! I really super suggest it!"
In his adolescent mind, the days prior to their next extermination date had been prime time to flee the relative safety of his home. In a fit of teenage rebellion and frustration from his situation, Hewlett had decided now would be the perfect time to see if anyone would notice him gone in his absence.
He didn't expect to be out here more than a day.
He flinches as he runs into another solid body, an apology that had sat on the tip of his tongue fading in its surprise. As much as he lived under a rock, he did have a cellphone and access to the outside world. Of course he knew who Charlie Morningstar was. That didn't mean he was prepared for her to be one of his first outsider interactions ever !
❝ I - I am so sorry ! ❞ There's a pause as, between his nervous stammering, he processes the rest of her sentence.
❝ A hotel ? ❞ A true and proper chance to escape ? ❝ Can . . . you show me ? ❞
RING, RING !! @bornhosted said . . . “Look me in the eyes and say that again, I dare you.” || misc dialogue sentence starters
While Hewlett may not know much in the way of true danger and, worse, how to avoid it, with time he had learned what boundaries he could gently push and which ones he could most certainly not. It was clear from day one that his upbringing had been very different in comparison to these older siblings he'd been, for so long, unaware of. And as much as he'd been thrilled to know he was no longer alone in this world, as he was, it had been . . .
A learning curve of his own.
His ears briefly flatten to his skull, intimidated by his elder brother's height and his overall build compared to his own. ❝ I . . . Uh, I said . . . ❞
His lost confidence is found nearly as quickly as it had been lost, and his hands ball into fists. He breathes in deep.
❝ I said that you aren't any better than me. ❞
@transmitubed whispered a line !!with red hands ( accepting! ) ❝ don't leave me, don't leave me alone. ❞ from @transmitubed !
breakfast was always a rather quiet affair, and he didn't always have the time to be present for it. but today, he did have time. he just ... admittedly was unsure how to act. what to say or do when around hewlett, so grown now. it was easier when he was younger, and when he was busy. he had priorities to worry about, work, things to focus on. today was pitifully unbusy. and he loved his son, more than anything.
but he had no idea how to be around him.
when he stood, he didn't expect hewlett to speak. but the words made him stop in his tracks. his fingers twitched, uncertainty rising.
❛ ... okay. um. i have, uh, more time. today. if you need me. or want me. ❜
he slowly sat back down, returning to his mostly untouched food. taking a bite, because he wasn't sure what else to do.
❛ i'm happy to spend it with you. ❜
He should be used to it. Part of him is. The absence of his father only aches sometimes – an old, forgotten wound. He's not as sad about it as he used to be. Unless he thinks about it, similar to poking a bruise. And why cause yourself unnecessary pain, when the outcome is almost always the same?
So he doesn't think about it.
Until he has to.
He's not sure why he let himself have an outburst like that. He's older now, too old for tantrums and crying and begging, and certainly too old to nearly leap from his seat at the rare sight of Vox joining him for breakfast and then, less rarely, promptly vacating his seat.
He blinks away his surprise, clearly having had expected a clean cut rejection. Though, he's not sure the wording cuts any less deep. 'If you want me. Or need me.'
Hewlett deflates in his seat, his claws tapping upon the table in a gesture not too dissimilar to the way Vox himself fidgeted moments ago.
❝ I just . . . Can you, just . . . um. ❞
❝ I don't want to be alone today. I can - I can come with you ? You know, like . . . wherever you're gonna go. ❞ Forbidden; always had been. Why's he trying ?
RING, RING !! @gctchell said . . . “Oh, yeah? Make me.” FROM BIG SIS NIFFTY || misc dialogue sentence starters
. . . Aren't you supposed to be older than me ? Thankfully, that's a thought that stays firmly locked inside. He's learned to hold his tongue with time. Somewhat. When he wants to.
He could. Easily, real easily – make her, that is. He learned quickly that his height is an advantage . . . although, he learned equally as quickly that while small, Niffty is not to be fucked with and perhaps he shouldn't utilize his long legged-ness after all.
❝ Come on Niff, don't be such a wad. I just want you to stop eating my leftovers ! They were mine ! And you ate all the cookies yesterday too, and I paid for 'em !! ❞
RING, RING !! @venisontransmission said . . . “No, you’re hurt.” || misc dialogue sentence starters
As heavily sheltered as he'd been throughout his short life, Hewlett had not yet had to bear the brunt of any injury more traumatic than a stubbed toe, a papercut – surface level, easily fixable things. As detrimental as his upbringing had been to his overall psyche, as far as protection went, he'd never once had to worry. Exterminations, sinners with terrible motives – he'd been all but shielded from the world. It had all been one large misguided attempt to protect, after all.
But, of course, that left him with very little survival instinct to speak of. And when he'd seen danger approaching fast, too quickly to shout, the little instinct he'd had to speak of had screamed at him to step in front of his caretaker to protect him from harms way.
❝ B-but, it's not bad, is it ? ❞ His voice holds a tremor, rasped, and through the adrenaline it seems the severity of his injuries has yet to set in. Fear outweighs the pain, terror that only grows when the hand clutched tight to his abdomen comes away slick with the redbluepurple smear of his blood.
He coughs, an unmistakable metallic taste filling his mouth at the same time something wet dribbles down his chin. ❝ I'm okay, I'm – I'm okay, I'm okay . . . ❞ He tapers off, clutching at his hair in his stress. It seems he's more trying to soothe himself than he might be Alastor.
RING, RING !! @damnedrainbows said . . . "Don't you have things to do?" (Niffty. It's slave time) || misc dialogue sentence starters
❝ But I already did all the other stuff you asked me to do, ❞ Hewlett replies, expression twisted with a mixture of confusion and intense concentration as he tries to focus on clumsily clambering up onto the couch next to her without spilling the precariously poured drink in his hand onto the fabric. Or himself. Or her.
❝ Look, I even got your juice, like you asked. And it's gotta silly straw! It's your favorite color! Can I please play with you now? ❞
random misc dialogue … sentence starters
“No, you’re hurt.”
“Don’t touch me.”
“You stole my heart.”
“Oh, yeah? Make me.”
“Don’t talk back to me.”
“Oh, sure, you bet’cha.”
“You’re so broken inside.”
“You can’t go in there alone.”
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“If you fall, I’m going to laugh.”
“You’re such a dork. I love you.”
“Have you ever gone stargazing?”
“Like you would ever understand…”
“I just want to know what happened.”
“No, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“You have the worst sense of humor.”
“Do you want to go on an adventure?”
“Did you ever find out why they did it?”
“I don’t need a hug. I need vengeance.”
“You have the best smile I’ve ever seen.”
“How long are you going to stand there?”
“You’re so painfully oblivious some days.”
“Do you need me to back you up on this?”
“You’re not royalty, stop acting like you are.”
“Did you lose your glasses/cane/mobility aid?”
“I just need to rant for a second, is that okay?”
“If you’re gonna be such a chicken, just leave.”
“You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen.”
“Yup, I heard it as soon as I said it, just let it go.”
“I don’t have proof, but I need you to believe me.”
“When was the last time you actually felt happy?”
“Yeah, I’m weak. What’s wrong with being weak?”
“How have you survived on your own for so long?”
“I really think you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“I just want you to know I’m here… if you need me.”
“Look me in the eyes and say that again, I dare you.”
“I feel like I’d find more lively company in a cemetery.”
“Are you really sorry? Or just sorry you were caught?”
“You’re really not worth all this of this. You’re just not.”
“I know its dangerous… that’s why I brought you along.”
“How have you stayed so gentle through everything…?”
“Being a jerk isn’t the same as being strong, you know.”
“You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for.”
“Thanks for sticking with me. I know it hasn’t been easy.”
“I keep having the same nightmare. And it just won’t stop.”
“Are you actually living, or are you just fighting to survive?”
“Nothing wrong with admitting you need a hand sometimes.”
“Hey, if you need to bare your chest, I’m right here. I’ll listen.”
“I just want to eat pizza and pass out, is that too much to ask?”
“I needed you to know… you’re the most important part of my life.”
“Don’t tell me you’re being honest, because you’ve done nothing but lie.”
“Okay, maybe we all just need to step back and calm down for a minute.”
“I know its been a long time, and I’m sorry to show up out of the blue, but — “
“I just need to be wrapped up in a hug and squeezed back into my body, please.”
“I’m going to be here for you, no matter what. Come hell or high water, I’ve got your back.”
“I’m tired of being strong all the time. When is it my turn to break down and be told, ‘its okay, you did your best”?
[ hihi okay so, drop a ♡ for me to leap into your dms and plot with you ! ]
Foster seeing Hewlett like:
There he is. The one child I don't hate.
(ment. @transmitubed)
Tfw you get special Foster privileges
– from x @damnedrainbows
There's a certain amount of shame to his gait as he shuffles behind his father, his injured hand clutched tight to his chest. He sits daintily on the edge of the bed, politely, one leg crossed over the other – a total and complete juxtaposition, the boy is. As much as he was a complete stumbling, clumsy mess, he was equally as refined and proper.
In his own ways, anyhow.
❝ I was just trying to help with dinner, and I – ❞
His flustered response is swiftly cut short by the sharp sound of his parent launching himself backward and into a heap of his own on the floor. He blinks, leaning over the edge of the bed to peer downward at Vox with a rather conflicted expression. He seems to mostly be concerned. Mostly.
❝ . . . Are you okay ? ❞
[ i forgot to do a tag drop ]
[ haiiii u guys should plot w me ]
