samlovesradiohead

[samlovesradiohead]

be my mistake

lucifer x f!reader

cw: angst, fwb, minor sexual content (nothing explicit), lucifer my pathetic man, ambiguous ending

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i hate matty healy but be my mistake is so good. i didnt know whether to have a sad or bad ending so i left it open. also i totally rushed this sorry, but enjoy this while i work on false idols!!!!!!!11!!111 also i want to incorporate a new thing where i just link a song im going feral over currently

(also, i'm taking requests. if it isnt obvious, i love lucifer, so please lucifer requests come to me)

song: be my mistake - the 1975

It was never meant to be this drawn out. 

Soundlessly you slept beside him. For a moment, he let himself observe the tranquility of the post-coital atmosphere. The relief from the previous activities has washed away, leaving immense guilt in its wake. He felt utterly helpless. 

Lucifer thought this was a good idea, but his ideas never really ended well. This one was no different. 

He remembers when he was first introduced to you. Charlie introduced you last as she walked down the line of hotel residents, waiting to greet the king. A simple polite smile and wave, with the introduction to your name and role at the hotel, had a faint blush decorating his pale cheeks. For the first time since Eden, he was taken away by the beauty of the woman in front of him. He hoped you didn’t notice his hesitation and the stars in his eyes, as if you were Aphrodite incarnate. Something about you stirred a feeling of familiarity in him. He wasn’t sure if he liked that. 

At the time, it was about 7 years since Lilith left. Thousands of years of love and marriage received a harsh closure on the day she left her wedding band on his workshop desk. Lucifer won’t lie and say it was always great with her. Years before she disappeared, they often argued over the governance of hell, with the Queen wanting to uplift her people, and the King wanting nothing to do with them, as they were just reminders of his banishment from paradise. It only worsened when they had Charlie. Lilith prioritizing her over their marriage, taking Charlie away when Lucifer wanted to spend time with her. Honestly, he should have seen the day coming. But he didn’t want to believe that their relationship was so battered to the point where she had to abandon her daughter, her people, and her husband. 

After she left, he didn’t know what to do with himself. If Lucifer wasn’t alienated from society and his daughter already, then he had hit a new low. The once prideful king was now a hollow shell of the man he was. He found himself restlessly wandering the halls of the palace, solemnly observing the artifacts that held stories of when things were good between the royal pair. The photos were always the worst. Hours at a time, he would stare into the enigmatic allure that is the former queen Lilith. Even in photographs, her radiance and elegance were at the forefront. She beheld a beauty so dangerous, so tempting, it sent him to damnation. He sees it now, as he found himself entering his own personal hell. His mind had the tendency to spiral out of control, with what ifs and introspection on if he had done better, would she be here?

This went on for years, although he was steadily getting better. 

The call he received from Charlie, inviting him to check out her rehabilitation hotel, had him excited for the first time in almost a decade. Guilt was a parasite that inhabited his psyche. Guilt for Lilith leaving, but also unintentionally abandoning his daughter as well. He knew he had to correct things. It’s been too long being miserable. 

Then came you. Why does Lucifer always bite into the apple? Once again, he falls into the siren’s trap of an enigmatic woman. 

He knows exactly when the arrangement started. After rebuilding the hotel, everyone decided it’d be best to just relax after such an eventful day. You and he were at the bar, Husk being absent due to being dragged into a game of Uno with Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel Dust. Lucifer poured up drinks as you two engaged in easy conversations, mostly pertaining to your life on earth. Maybe it was the buzz from the alcohol that gave him the courage, but on the topic of romantic relationships, he admitted to being astonished at how gorgeous you were when you first met. The flush on your face deepened, and he knew where this was going as you admitted your affections towards him as well. A brush against his hand and hushed whispers led to his suite. Hastened by carnal desire, clothes ended on the floor and limbs entangled in a game of passion. At one moment, he thought he heard Lilith in your pleasured sighs. The familiarity was burning him internally. In his lustful haze, he kept chasing those harmonious hymns you sang, doing anything to elicit those sweet sounds.

When dawn came, he was met with a headache and guilt, his companion these days. He looked over and saw your sleeping form, peaceful, a stark contrast to his warring mind. But even he cannot deny he enjoyed the warmth of another in his bed. It was nice, after being stripped away from that privilege. He let himself go back to sleep, slotted against your back, leaving a chaste kiss on your exposed shoulder.  

After that night, it had become a regular routine for you two to meet in his room. You two agreed to keep it casual, both of you not feeling ready for a serious relationship just yet. This went on for months, just a sinner and a damaged king uniting in physical intimacy. He cannot lie, the first few weeks, sometimes he’d close his eyes and imagine it was his first love. Nothing against you, it’s just that Lilith seems to have an invisible collar around his heart. Yes, you got him going, but he was weak when it came to her. He feels guilty for even fucking you, with his wedding band still on at that. You were so captivating just as she was, he couldn’t stay away from you and your temptations. 

Lucifer has a weird knack for knowing when things are about to go bad, but somehow knows he cannot do anything to prevent it, so he lets the remorse eat him alive. During sex, he noticed you began to incorporate deeply intimate gestures that shouldn’t be shared in a no-strings-attached relationship. Hand holding, deep kisses, etc. but he craved these things as well, so he decided to let it slide. 

He felt it getting too serious for you when you began to send him longing glances, asking him out to dinners, and wanting to hang out more. Of course, you could just want to be friends, but he knows that longing look in your eyes. You were dancing along blurred lines. 

He was confused, but when wasn’t he? Lucifer didn’t know if he wanted you, or your body. Both were great in his opinion. 

But he was fucking terrified of going back to that miserable, agonizing pain he felt when Lilith left. What if you left him too once you found out how pathetic he was? He fears it might be too late, as he takes note of how he eagerly waits for your texts and how he looks to you when he tells a joke. He hates this feeling. Why must you do this to him?

Lucifer hates himself for realizing his adoration for you a day after he sent you out his suite, with the arrangement ending on his terms. He doesn’t know why he did that. Maybe it was the fear of being abandoned again. He felt his heart drop as he watched your eyes water, hastily pulling on your garments before leaving his room with a slammed shut. In your wake, he wanted to shoot himself (if he could) for being stupid. He’s basically abandoning you, just as Lilith did he. He didn’t even know how else you would react. The same old self-deprecating thoughts lulled him to sleep in a twisted, weird way. 

A day of introspection and locking himself up in his workshop made him realize a few things. He understands now that 1) he hurt you badly, 2) there’s no way you will forgive him so easily, 3) he wants to apologize and just… be with you, even if it means he might get hurt in the process. He doesn’t understand why now of all times he realizes he wants to be with you. It is also now that he slips off his wedding band. For some reason, he thought he would’ve cried and screamed when he finally took it off, but when nothing came about, he sighed a breath of relief, as if expecting Pandora's box to open. He opened the drawer to his desk, placing it in the back. 

All day, he’s been rehearsing on what to say to you. “Hey, I know we’ve been fucking a lot these past couple of months and you started to like me and I totally get that i broke your heart the other night, but now after a ton of introspection and self-doubt and facing my inner demons haha, I realize i want you too!!! Wanna go out???” No, it has to be meaningful. It’s the least he could do after basically stomping on your heart. He feels like evil incarnate (well… he kind of is). 

After rehearsing lines and crafting a gift, a rubber duck that resembled you, he made his way to your room. He feels his nerves go haywire as he gets closer and closer. Lucifer never meant to hurt you this way. 

He arrives at your door, taking a couple seconds to prepare himself for the unexpected. 

Three polite knocks, a moment of silence, then the door clicks open. 

#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader

[samlovesradiohead]

false idols - ch. 2

lucifer x f!reader

cw: slow burn, drug + alcohol usage, lowkey enemies to lovers, more to be added

wc: 2.3k

a/n: rip charlie you wouldve loved taylor swift, lululemon, and stanley cups. charlie would love the clean girl aesthetic. (btw, i get a lot of my inspo from taylor swift and phoebe bridgers i love them so much) I REALLY HATE THIS CHAPTER NEXT ONE WILL BE BETTER TRUST ME. im winging this whole story

thinking about making a playlist for this fic. anyway heres the song i been listening to on repeat while writing this: the albatross - taylor swift (the tortured poets department - the anthology)

“Why didn’t you tell me you were famous?! That is so cool!!!” Charlie bursts in your room, startling you so much that you almost fall off your bed. It was after dinner, and you had announced to the group you were turning in for the night. You were in the middle of watching hell’s equivalent to trashy reality TV, and it was pretty entertaining. 

“Sorry for scaring you, I’m just really excited at the news!” 

“Who told you?” You ask, but you already have an idea. And when she replies with Angel’s name, you internally high-five yourself for guessing correctly. You adjust yourself to sit upright at the edge of the bed to face Charlie. “I figured. I was just answering his questions while having a drink with him and Husk at the bar.”

You can see Charlie practically vibrating in excitement at this new revelation. “What kind of songs did you sing? What genre? How many fans did you have? Did-” Charlie is abruptly interrupted by you.

“One question at a time, girl!” You give a light chuckle at Charlie’s embarrassment, a light pink flush decorating her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, you’d think as the princess of hell I’d be accustomed to people with status, but it’s different! The ones I know are just old, stuck-up royals. I’ve never met a famous singer before.” Charlie giddily explains, hands clasped together. 

“It’s fine. I’ve seen way worse reactions when people meet me. I used to be a popstar. I’d say I was…” you didn’t want to seem like an asshole bragging about how many fans you had, “decently famous. Of course, there are always people who had to catastrophize the things I did, so, my career did have its fair share of scandals.” You make the assumption that she would also like to know how you died, so you tell her. “Now I’m here because I got poisoned at a party.” 

You still think your death was not how it should’ve been. But you can’t do anything to change it now. Young starlets died all the time. You weren’t special. Honestly, you thought you’d be a bit sadder about dying. But with death came an escape from the chains of your previous life, and for that you are grateful. 

An exasperated expression paints her face as you nonchalantly let her know how you wound up in hell. “That’s a horrible way to go, I’m sorry you went through that. At least you’re here now!” 

You sigh. “It’s alright. I was being stupid, kinda deserved it. It’s whatever now. I’m glad you guys were the first people I found. I don’t wanna imagine what could have happened to me if I stayed out in the streets. Thank you, Charlie, seriously.” 

“I just want to help my people. It’s no big deal.”

You smile at that. Charlie, the ever-saintly hellborn. 

She sparks up. “I know it's your first day, and I’m not sure how much the others have told you, but sometimes, especially powerful sinners gain powers relating to how they lived or died. I figured since you were quite reputable on earth, you’d have powers that coincided with your singing, kind of like my mom. We don’t have to test that out right now, but I was just letting you know!” 

Woah. “Really? Hmm, I might test it out later.” A part of you hopes that you do indeed have powers. Maybe you could scream at supersonic levels and make people’s ears explode. 

“Okay, next question! Do you think… how do I word this… do you think some of your fans are down here?” Huh. You actually never considered that. Your career spans from your late teens to 27 years old (since that’s the age you died at). There’s no way some fans haven’t died throughout that span. You ponder her question for a second. 

“More than likely. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Charlie’s eyes light up. You can already tell she has something planned. “I have the most fantastic idea ever involving you but I don’t want to push you out of your comfort zone this early into your stay here, but what if we orchestrated a mini-concert, with you singing of course! Sinners and your fans that are down here can come enjoy your music and learn about the hotel, maybe they’ll take a chance on redemption!” 

You gotta hand it to Charlie: she really wants to help sinners. Her explanation earlier was evidence enough, but her pure dedication is admirable. As for you, you’re not sure redemption is possible, as there hasn’t been proof of it. You’re not even sure if you want to go to heaven. For now, you’ll help Charlie with her dream while trying to figure out what you want. It’s the least you could do, as she is letting you basically free-load off of her. 

Her idea didn’t really deter you, anyway. You performed at packed stadiums plenty of times, a simple concert isn’t that bad. A tiny part of you is excited to visit the echoes of your former glory. Is that selfish, to want to restore what once was?

“That sounds cool. I’m down. But, uhhh, where and how will we make that happen?” The logistics of the situation hit you mid-agreement. Seriously, how?

Charlie laughs, “I’ll ask my dad, Lucifer. He can basically make anything at the snap of his fingers. Ooh, by the way, I’m going to call him up tomorrow. He may or may not swing by and visit.” 

You stand up immediately at that. “Lucifer?! Like the Devil from the Bible!??!” Why did it not hit you till now? You figured her dad was some king or whatever, but you didn’t expect her dad to be THE king of hell. The church raised you on the scariest iterations of Lucifer, so you only expect the worst. What if he incinerates you for looking at him wrong?!

She chuckles at your reaction. “He is nothing like what humans are taught. He’s a real sweet guy, albeit a little… distant. I promise, he won’t kill you a second time, unless you do something really bad. But I doubt you will!” 

Her assuring words offer some comfort to your original antsiness. Still, it’ll be your second day tomorrow and you’re already (possibly) meeting the king of hell. “That’s … refreshing to know.”

“It’ll be alright.” Charlie reassures you, assuring herself as well in the process. “Anyway, I’ll leave you alone for the night. Vaggie and I’s suite is just down the hall, knock if you need anything.” She back steps towards the door, swinging it open. “Goodnight!” she says before closing your door. You repeat the pleasantry. The door clicks, signaling its closure.

Sleep came quite quickly after the talk with Charlie. But before slumber pulled you under, you did some introspection while staring at the blank ceiling above you. This time of the day is when you surrender yourself to your worst thoughts.

You thought of this while dying, but now its persistence has fully enraptured your attention. You can’t help but think of the world you left behind. Did they find your body yet? You can see the tabloids now: “Global Popstar Phenomenon Found Dead from Laced Drink at Trashy Party Bathroom”. What a joke. 

Even now, you are nitpicking yourself to atoms as you realize you’re thinking about what the world thinks of you instead of worrying about the few real people who cared for you.

You can count on one hand how many people carried genuine sympathy for you. Two friends from your childhood, but even that’s pushing it because you haven’t been keeping up with them. You’d count your ex, but that was before. So… who was left to mourn you?

These self-deprecating thoughts came to you in familiarity. It is known that celebrities are extremely unhappy and you were no exception. 

In life, perfection was always a concept you tried to reach. You knew you couldn’t do it, but you tried to get as close as possible to it. It didn’t help that your management team was also ensuring you were at your best at all times. With practice and rehearsals for concerts leaving you overly exhausted and bruised, to taking hours in the dressing room, trying on different outfits and makeup styles to see what fits best, you don’t know how you’ve survived that long under those conditions. The team will be very relieved to find out they don’t have to manage a prima donna anymore if they didn’t know you were dead already. And this thought made you feel awful. God damn, why is it every thought trails back to you feeling bad about yourself? 

You push these demeaning voices aside as you close your eyes.

– – – – 

You wake up to the sound of rustling coming from your closet.  Still, your morning grogginess lingers. Rubbing your eyes while sitting up, you try to focus your vision on the movement coming from the closet.

Hearing you move instantly had Charlie shooting her head out of the closet. “Oh My Gosh I am SOOOO sorry for waking you up. But I forgot to give you a wardrobe, so I woke up super early to go get some outfits for you! And I may or may not have been listening to your music catalog while out in town…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at her, she was just so adorable. Her unlimited kindness is fascinating to you. “It’s okay, Charlie. This is about the time I wake up anyway. But you were listening to my music? I didn’t know hell had access to earthly media.”

She stands up, straightening out her clothes as she explains, “We don’t! But you know, after tinkering around and doing some searches, I found a website that uploads music from earth! How they manage that, I’m not sure. But it’s there! It seemed like your entire catalog was there, so I listened! I’ve been listening since last night before Vaggie told me to go to sleep. You’re such a great songwriter and singer!”

You were used to compliments up on earth. Oftentimes, they were said under false pretenses and malicious reasons. But for some reason, it feels more personal now. Maybe it was the genuine look and obvious sincerity in her tone, but it was different than usual.  Blood rushes to your cheeks as you stammer out a mousy ‘thank you’. 

“Oh! By the way, Vaggie’s almost done with breakfast. So, get ready!”

It’s after breakfast, and you sit on the couch with Angel Dust, watching Charlie pace back and forth. 

“Babe, just call him. You won’t know his answer unless you talk,” Vaggie says, trying to console her girlfriend. Charlie takes a deep breath.

“Okay, you’re right. I am calling my dad.” And so she did. 

You felt bad for her, seeing as her responses and facial expressions were evident of her emotions. It was clear her and her father don’t have the closest relationship, with her grimacing face making an appearance continually throughout the call. After a minute of awkwardness, she ends the call, turning to the group who were now seated on the couch. 

“Okay sooooooooooo my dad’s going to be here in an hour.” 

Angel and Niffty seem excited at the news. 

“I’ve always wanted to meet the big dick in charge.”

“The ultimate bad boy!” 

Vaggie pretends like she didn’t hear that. She takes charge as she gives out orders to the residents. “Alright, Lucifer’s going to be here in an hour. Let’s get this hotel presentable.” 

— — — —

Lucifer continues to stare at the portrait, even after the call ends. The frozen glimpse of the family haunts him. He can feel an isolating cold run through his body as he stares into the eyes of both his daughter and … ex-wife. Charlie, standing there, shyly smiling, but with wide bright eyes. And Lilith, the former Queen of Hell, emulates prestige and elegance like no other. Even framed, her beauty was radiant. A looming aura of gloom and despair was ever present within the king. 

Some days, Lucifer thinks he’s finally over it and that he’s ready to face everyone after years of cowardice. But one glance back at the stagnant memory and into the hypnotizing gaze of his first love, he crumbles apart again, just as he did when he first saw her in Eden. 

It is unfathomable to him that after being condemned to damnation for eternity, raising hell from the ground up, and creating a child together that she would leave it all behind. 7 years has not changed his questions for her disappearance. He knew it was getting rocky after Charlie was born. Even with Lilith constantly taking Charlie away from Lucifer and arguments over the governance of Hell, he never thought she’d leave after over 10,000 years of marriage. 

To be quite honest, Lucifer is tired of Lilith haunting him. Echoes of her presence still linger in the palace and her phantoms breach the darkest corners of his psyche. It’s like she’s tormenting him with memories of her and their love. He wishes he could get over it that quickly, but being together since the fall of humanity has instilled its lasting legacy on him. Lucifer does not want to be a doddering fool who keeps wistfully yearning for the woman he loves, but he can’t help but play the role. He obviously still loves her dearly, but he knows what they had has long been buried by time. 

This phone call with Charlie has granted him a chance to make up for the past few years of distance, isolation, and hurt he has bestowed upon his own daughter. 

“I’m trying my best, dearest.” His fingers trace Lilith’s enigmatic figure in the portrait.

---- ----

tag :3 @vififofum

#false idols lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

[samlovesradiohead]

false idols - ch. 1

lucifer x f!reader

cw: slow burn, drug + alcohol usage, lowkey enemies to lovers, more to be added

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this is my 1st fic lol pls be easy on me. also 1st time posting. this is very self-indulgent. i was thinking of 1989 tv when writing this (slut! is the best song)! my college classes r over so more free time for me

The fog begins to clear your mind as you wake up to a deep crimson sky and the smell of burning… meat? Whatever it was, it burned your nostrils with its sickeningly strong stench. A subtle throbbing sensation is felt at your temples, bringing you back to reality. You take in your surroundings properly as you pull yourself up to a sitting position: it seems that you’ve woken up in the middle of an alleyway. You observe the … creatures as they pass the alley. All different shapes, sizes, heights, even colors as you watch a wide, blue, doughy guy pass by. You assume they’re demons, as you understood by now that you are, in fact, dead and you are, in fact, in hell. Plus, looking at the poster advertisements on the wall in front of you for shows and concerts, described as ‘The Best Performance in All of Hell!’ gave you evidence to back up your conclusion. Not to mention all of the… gorier looking posters, mostly ads for strange jobs. Based off the gory ads, you assume that hell is just earth but more fucked up

Among these posters, you noticed an ad: “Are you a wayward and sickeningly depraved sinner looking to redeem your god-forsaken soul from an eternity of punishment??? Well come on down to the Hazbin Hotel, run by Princess Charlotte Morningstar and hosted by the Radio Demon, Alastor! (Me)”. Apparently, it's a rehabilitation hotel for sinners who are interested in wanting to be redeemed and go to heaven. It lists all the benefits there are to staying at the hotel, with free housing and food immediately catching your attention. Out of all of the posters in this alleyway, the hotel ad gave you some semblance of safety. . You grab the hotel’s poster off the wall, searching for an address, but all you find is the fine print stating that the hotel is a ‘the big red building with a comically large eye at the top on the hill overlooking Pentagram City. You can’t miss it!’. 

And so you were off, on the lookout for this hotel as you made your way out the alleyway and onto the streets. You look down at yourself, making sure you look somewhat decent for this ‘princess’ that runs the hotel. You brush off any dirt that may have lingered on you from laying on the ground for god knows how long. As you trudge out of the city, you spot the big building, a flicker of hope igniting within you. 

The walk there gives you time to reflect on your life on earth and what to expect from here on out. You were no saint by any means. Sure, you went to church when you were younger, but you never practiced what the church preached (but to be fair, no one else did either). 

In your life, you were a popstar. Globally renowned, loved and hated by many, you had it all, somewhat. Scandals seemed to follow you everywhere, some even over the most medial things. Of course you’re going to party and date around, you were in your prime! You had money and fame, but everyone knows that happiness and fame do not go together. A part of you is ashamed for living such a selfish life, but you know you cannot deny how good the run was. You cut off your former friends and family, telling them that they were holding you back from accomplishing your goals. Of course, they just wanted what’s best for you, but you and your pride couldn’t handle their warnings, talking down to you as if you were a toddler. If you had heeded their warnings, maybe you would’ve lived a longer life, with at least someone waiting on the other side. Alas, you had your chance on earth, now you're dealing with the consequences in hell. 

You feel a bitter resentment bubble up inside you, tears stinging from the wave of strong emotions as your reflection continues. Resentment only reserved for yourself. You remember the day you tried apologizing to your parents, with your mother yelling bitterly ‘you made your bed, lie in it’ before hanging up on you, eliciting a shiver that ran throughout your body. That was only hours before you ended up in hell. 

The events from when you died are fresh on your mind. 

You were at a friend’s house party, the aura of ‘prestige’ that these celebrities always exuded were nowhere to be seen as they let loose as if they were at a frat party. The strong odor of marijuana and tobacco permeated within the house, inside and out. A-listers doing lines on countertops as mid-C tier actors and actresses try to engage in conversations with them, trying to secure an alliance and potential opportunity to sky-rocketing their name. 

Honestly, you were always shocked no one died from the constant compounding of different substances, it was commonplace at parties like this. Well, that changed, with you being made the example.

You promised your friends you were just going to stick to weed tonight. You’ve been struggling with a substance problem for the past few years, but who isn’t among your peers? Only a couple months ago did you begin to change your ways, as you noticed the toll it was taking on your relationships. However, you were tempted. Maybe it was bitterness from the ‘talk’ with your mom earlier, whatever it was, your judgment was clouded.

It’s a pretty sad way to die, you think, as the hotel gets closer. 

You remember feeling sickly after drinking a shot some guy poured up for you. You just assumed you were cross-faded, but as you trudged your way to the bathroom across the hall, you knew something was wrong. Before you left, you excused yourself from the guy. You asked one of your friends to watch your back as you head to the bathroom, making sure he didn’t follow. 

As soon as you closed the bathroom door, your body crumpled under its own weight. You felt your breathing begin to become ragged and your skin becoming ever so clammy. Fear sends chills in your nerves that were setting ablaze, the contrasting forces becoming unbearable. 

You knew you’re dying. It’s like you could feel the life gradually oozing out of you as the mixture of chemicals attacks your system. All you could do is suffer as you lay on the ground, holding yourself like you have been your whole life. Maybe you deserved a death like this. Celebrities like you are as filthy as scum beneath your fingernails: You stood no chance at seeing the pearly gates. You knew this as your lifeforce was on its last leg. Quiet resentment lingers. Resentment towards yourself and resentment towards the world you are leaving behind.  

— — — —

Charlie is the most saintly person you’ve ever met, in both your afterlife and past life. 

You assumed you looked like a kicked puppy wanting a home as you knocked on the big mahogany doors to the hotel. You were immediately greeted by a tall, slender blonde woman in a red suit. Almost instantaneously, stars began to glitter in her eyes as you explained how you just woke up in hell, and how you found out about the hotel. After the explanation, Charlie properly introduced herself and pulled you inside.

As she gave you a tour of the hotel, she began to tell you more about herself and hell. You couldn’t help but listen in awe at her dream of rehabilitating sinners in order to save them from the exterminations. You had to admire her love for protecting her people. Charlie only gave glimpses into what her familial life was, awkwardness ridden over her face as she tried to explain how, yes, her and her withdrawn dad still talk… technically, but they were not very close. You gave her an assuring smile as you said you had family problems too and that you totally understood. Her shoulders visibly relaxed. 

That was earlier. After the mini-tour, she led you to your room, allowing you to relax and settle down before dinner. You explore your room after she closes the door. It wasn’t as nice as your penthouse when you were alive (you got mad at yourself for internally complaining, thinking you sound like a brat), but alas, it is what you deserve after already living a life of luxury. Fingertips tracing over the ornate and homey decor of the room, you feel a weird sense of security. 

You remember Charlie mentioning a bar. You’d think literally dying from poisoning would deter you from ever drinking an alcoholic beverage again, but damn you need a drink to calm your ever-persistent nerves. 

Exiting your room and heading towards the stairs, you almost run face-first into the chest of the radio demon. Abruptly halting your movements, you apologize for not watching where you were going (even though he literally manifested himself before you, actively in your way). 

“No need for apologies, dear! You are a valued guest in our fine establishment. Charlie told me all about you, pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!” Alastor’s cheery, staticky voice booms as he gives your hand a generous shake, quite literally shaking your entire body too. 

After readjusting yourself, you give it back to him. “Yeah, nice to meet you too”.

His smile never wavers in your entire interaction. “And where might you be heading, hm?” He leans down, getting close to your face, seemingly analyzing you. 

You answer honestly, “I was going down to the bar. This is my first day in hell and I’m still kinda antsy.”

He considers your reply, before offering to take you down there himself. “Allow me to lead the way, young lady!” You couldn’t bring yourself to deny him, out of fear or just wanting to be polite, you’re not sure. He offers out his arm to interlink, and you comply. You feel sorta awkward as he initiates small talk with you, asking about how you’re liking hell and the hotel so far. 

“I’ve only really met you and Charlie, and you two have been very kind to me. I kinda just… woke up in an alleyway, saw an ad for the hotel, and came straight here. I didn’t really interact with the town or people,” you sheepishly answer. 

“That’s great to hear! Some of these sinners will do anything for just a taste of a power trip. Good thing you found us first before anyone else could’ve used you for who knows what!” He replies cheerfully, but it is a stark contrast to how you were feeling after his answer. You knew it was hell, and that bad people are going to do bad things down here, but now the reality is starting to dawn on you. In your life, you were escorted everywhere by security– who knew what sick fuck would try to attack you. Now that you’re in hell, you begin to understand that you need some extra protection. Maybe Charlie has an AK-47 or submachine gun or something hanging around here. 

After pondering his response for a moment, you ask, “Do you go outside, like, unarmed? It’s dangerous out there, aren’t you scared of being killed a second time?”

He gives you a hearty laugh. “Oh darling, you needn’t worry about me. I am quite alright on my own. You see, dear, I’m an Overlord. Overlords are some of the most powerful sinners in hell due to their ownership of souls. Of course, not as powerful as our royals, Charlotte and her buffoon of a father, but still, more powerful than those chums on the streets.`` 

Overlords? Royals? Power scales in hell were not what you expected. You figured the Devil would be around here somewhere, but the fact that anyone could rack up enough souls and become powerful was not enticing. Now, you’re really not sure you want to go outside unarmed or by yourself. 

Alastor seems to notice your reaction to this new information. As you two near the bar, with a winged cat and a feminine spider engaging in conversation, Alastor adds, “No need for the down expression. I’m sure the Princess would not allow you to venture out into hell on your own. For your first few weeks, we’ll accompany you on any trip you need to make.” You accept this arrangement, seeing as it’s better than being attacked by randoms on the street. 

Finally reaching the bar, you unlink yourself from Alastor and take a seat on one of the barstools, Alastor seating himself as well. The winged cat seems displeased at the new arrivals, but the white and pink spider seems delighted to have new company. “Who might this be, Alastor? Ya girlfriend? Wife? Lover? I didn’t think you had it in ya, Smiles!”

Alastor’s signature smile takes on a more sinister aura. “Oh, my effeminate fellow, you are quite the comedian,” he states sarcastically before putting his hands on your shoulders. “This is our new addition to the hotel! Darling, this is Angel Dust, another guest at this fine establishment. And here,” he gestures towards the cat, “is our bartender, Husker!” Angel Dust gives you a wink, meanwhile Husk gives you a nod. 

You introduce yourself to the pair. Angel dusts immediately asks, “So, toots, what got you down here in the slammer?” Husk seems to take offense on your behalf. 

“Now why would you ask her that? She just got here.”

“I’m just curious! If she don’t wanna answer, she don’t have to.”

Before Husk could refute Angel, you chime in, worrying that this will lead to a heated discussion. “No, no! It’s fine, I’m comfortable with sharing. It’s just really stupid. I, uhh, kinda got … poisoned?” You feel all three pairs of eyes staring at you.

“Poisoned?” Angels begins, “I thought poisonings were kinda rare in the modern age.”

“Not in Hollywood, apparently…”

“Hollywood?!” Angel sits right up at that. “You were famous?!!! Why didn’t you start with that?! What were you? Actress? Singer? Pornstar like me?” 

His line of questioning startles you at first. Husk looks to be shocked at the revelation too. You weren’t sure about Alastor. His face is just… smiley as always. 

You answer Angel’s questions. “Yeah, I was a popstar, no biggie. I decided to smoke weed then take a couple shots. Guess one of them was poisoned, now I'm here. Can you pour me some rum and coke, if they have that down here?” 

Husk does begin your drink, but he asks, “Why are you drinking even though it killed you? Not that I’m one to judge, but I’m curious.” 

You answer honestly. “Well, I woke up in hell, out in the streets with nothing. I’m still kinda processing my situation. I need something to calm my nerves.” 

He nods at your response. “Understandable.” His original tenseness was starting to loosen, but it was immediately back when Alastor reminded everyone with his presence with a remark for you. 

Husk slides your drink over to you. You sip on it while Alastor says, “A starlet under our roof, how wonderful! I’m not too keen on modern music, but I am sure you were fantastic!”

You shrug, “I guess I was. I had fans all over the globe, a good career going, an amazing paycheck. It was nice.”

“Now it’s all gone,” Alastor replies. Husk shoots him a look. Meanwhile, Angel continues to ask you questions about the modernity of earth before you came to hell, and your career as a popstar. Alastor and Husk toss up questions of their own as you and Angel conversed. It was refreshing to talk to people who were interested in your life (albeit, previous) and not just what your status and money could do for them. 

Eventually, it was time for dinner, so you all retracted yourselves from the bar to the dining area. Before eating. Charlie briefly introduces you to her girlfriend Vaggie and the maid Niffty. You, once again, introduce yourself. Everyone began to eat and converse amongst themselves. Husk and Angel bickering, Charlie and Vaggie discussing plans for tomorrow (apparently, Charlie’s dad was coming over), and Alastor indulging in Niffty’s weird interests. 

You stay quiet as you enjoy the food, internally thanking whatever deity allowed you to find security so quickly. Hell ain’t so bad, so far.

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