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letshavedeernnertogether · 19 days

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Fragile

the plot is: you are a doll demon made of porcelain and you wonder how fragile you are, but you're also afraid to know the answer. fortunately alastor has no fear

tw: disgusting grotesque!!! dismembering or a very close to it, blood, biting, reader doesn't like their body (a demonic one), possibly grammar mistakes

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

You were sitting at the bar with Angel, discussing your hell life. Husk poured drinks for you and Angel and for himself too. He knew that you didn't like to be drunk, but he also couldn't let you sit there without alcohol in your hand, so he made light cocktails for you, that didn't rush into your head, but they helped you to relax after a hard day.

That day Lucifer came to the Hotel. Before he came all the residents had to make a quick cleanup, cook some cookies, decorate the lobby. During this preparation an unpleasant thing happened to you, that set you thinking.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

You and Angel were responsibile for wellcoming banners (to one of them Angel add an inscription that made you choke with laughter, but you were not sure how would the king of hell react to it.) Angel was very tall but you were not, so you needed a step-ladder. You were told that that step-ladder was pretty old and you'd to be careful, as some of the screw were a little bit loosened. You were at the top of the step-ladder, trying to pin the banner to the wall, when suddenly your view had changed, like the ground had tilted. You understood that those damn screws had left their places, and now you were about to fall. You dropped the banner, wanted to grap the step-ladder, but it was too late, you had already lost the balance. You were in free fall.

"Caught ya!"

You opened your eyes to find yourself in Angel's arms. He looked at you with a smile.

"Lucky you, you have a long-armed fellow like me," He said, winking at you.

"Thanks," You murmured, embracing him by his neck.

He smiled and put you to the ground. Husk and Vaggie asked you if you were okay, and then you were sent to kitchen to help Nifty and Sir Pentious with cookies, while Angel and Husk were about finishing the decoration.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

This case set you thinking. You'd been here, in hell, only for a month and most time of this you spent in the Hotel. Before it you were wandering in streets of hell. Luckily, you'd never got in any trouble, never been hurt. It was great fortune, that for all these days you hadn't even got a scratch.

Before this day.

Technically, you were not harmed, but you could have. It was the first time you was so close to get injuries.

Placing a glass at the bar, you looked at your hand, purely white and smooth. You moved your fingers, clenched and uncleched your fist. Every move was accompanied with a quiet creak of your ball-and-socket joints.

You were not an ordinary demon. You were a doll-demon. A porcelain doll, to be more precise. Where your limbs used to bend, thanks to the joints between the bones under the layer of flesh and skin, there were ball-joints now. They were in your fingers, hands, elbows, shoulders, in your ankles, knees and in thighs. Knees were the most strange thing in your new body. Between your hips and shanks two ball-and-socket joints were placed, that were connected with a strange-shaped porcelain plate, which you could call rectangular. Thanks to this construction, your knees bended. The elbows were arranged in the same way. Your body gave you a feeling of uncanny valley, but these two parts you just hated, so you wore only long-sleeved clothes and long skirts or trousers.

Your eyes were round and big and had the same colour when you were alive. Eyelashes became longer and more rounded. You had a very tiny nose and very red lips, that had the same form from you earth life.

Your skin was pearly white, smooth and dull, as it was covered with a thin layer of flour. It was porcelain. And now you seriously thought about how fragile you were. Porcelain dolls were very fragile you believed, so were you, weren't you? What would have happened if Angel hadn't caught you? Would you just bruise yourself or would you be totally broken in many pieces? You didn't know even if you bleed. You felt touches, you could define what you touched. When you embraced Angel you felt his fur under your arms, and your body felt his arms around you. You felt warmth, cold, sharpnes or bluntness. Well, maybe not as good as others. When you put out a baking tray with your unprotected arms, even Nifty was in shock, when you said, that the tray was just a little bit warm.

So, your sense of touch was different from others. Because of your body. Because of what you were now.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

"A porcelain doll, you say?" He turned away from Charlie and looked at you, pushing his monocle, "A very fragile thing, hm?"

You were watching them. You had just arrived and Charlie introduced you to the residents. A tall, dressed all in red man, captivated you the moment you saw him. He was... Frightful. And now, as he was looking at you with a sinister smile, you couldn't make your heart beating slowlier.

Suddenly you heard a voice from the left, "Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, doll face, quite a pleasure!" He was shaking your hand already.

How was it possible?! A moment ago he stood in front of Charlie, several meters seperated you, you were looking at him and saw, that he didn't move, but somehow he materialized just beside you.

"It's a pleasure to-" You began, shaking his huge palm.

"A porcelain doll as I heard?" The demon interrupted you, "An owner of such an easily breakbale body, hm? Must needs a protector?"

You frowned, as you were not sure if it was a question or a statement, or what it actually meant.

"I mean, my dear," He saw your confusion and said with a predatory smile, lowing his statical voice, "that porcelain is a frigale material."

"Oh," You understood, "well, I don't know, sir, I haven't been in any troubles yet, that brought me any damage, so I don't know how breakable I am," You awkwardly chuckled. This man was interesting but also he was weird. Even creepy.

He sharply grabbed your forearm and exclaimed, "Then we could quickly check it right now, dear!"

"Nope!" You pulled out your hand very quickly, pressing it to the chest and covering with other hand, "No, no, no!"

He tilted his head still smiling. Did he ever not smile?

"I mean, that I'm just fine to be in ignorance, sir!" You said almost proudly.

"No need to be so official, dear. It seems I said to you my name, didn't I?"

Yes, he did. His name was Alastor. But it wasn't in your character to use the first name of a man, who was older than you for sure, right after you met. And also he still didn't know your name, as he interrupted you the moment you were about to introduce yourself.

"You did. But I didn't tell you my name-"

"There's no need, my dear." He leaned over you, "Dolls don't have names. Their owners give them ones."

And he walked away.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

It was your first conversation with the Radio Demon, and since then you hadn't comminuted much. You met each others in the hall or dining room, sometimes in private, but you never dared to say him more than "Hello!" or "How are you doing?" And it was okay. Almost okay. Since the first meeting he captivated you. You'd like to know him better, to be even friends maybe. But you we're not sure how to start, and moreover it seemed, that he didn't like to talk with you a lot. So you didn't try. But his gaze always followed you. You were sure, that even if he wasn't present, he still was there.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Angel and Husk were looking at you, as you still clenched and unclenched your fist. They were tipsy and fascinated by your movements.

"And what are you doing, kid?" Asked Husk finally, taking his eyes off your hand.

"Just thinking."

"About what?" Angel also stopped staring at your hand and tried to focus his gaze on your snow white face.

"About me. And you. And you, too," You pointed at your friends in turn. "About the demons..."

"It's senseless, kid," Husk took a bottle and started to dust it down.

"Look, you are a cat, and you are a spider. And why are you like this?" You said, throwing your hands.

They looked at you, frowing. It was obviously, that you were the only one who cared about such things. Maybe it was because you were a new one in hell.

"Why indeed, doll face?" Angel chuckled.

"Angel, stop. You know, I don't like it."

"C'mon! I just wanted to tease you."

"Don't do it, Angel," said Husk, wiping glasses and pouring another drink to him.

You gratefully looked at him. Husk always knew what was on one's mind and heart, and he knew how bad made you feel such forms of address to you. Anything that reminded you of your essence.

"All riiiiight!" Angel rolled his eyes up. "Why are you like this?"

"Like what?" You said.

"Don't like jokes," He said seriously.

"Go to hell, Angel!"

"Calm down, kid," Husk said calmy but loud enough for you both heard him. "Just tell us what's on your mind."

You glanced at him. Since the day you got here you couldn't stop thinking about your body, about your essence. You believed that demons had appearance that described their essence when they were alive. But you couldn't understand why you were a doll.

"Well..." You started.

"C'mon, toots, don't keep in your feelings," Angel was seriously just like Husk and a little bit tipsy.

"Ok," You sighed, "I just don't understand myself. Don't understand who I am. Or what I am... I don't know what to expect. I think about my essence. Why am I a doll? And do I really?.. I mean, I don't even know what is under the porcelain! Is the flesh? Or emptiness? Am I even alive if this is so? Could I really have died today, if Angel hadn't caught me? Could I crash? Or what if I didn't die, but just broke something? I don't even know if I bleed!" The more you spoke, the faster your speech became. In the end you just sighed, "I'd like to know..."

Your interlocutors were confused.

"Don't give her alcohol, she turns into a depressed masochist," Angel said.

"Did I hear someone said bleed?" A voice from behind made you jump up on your stool. You quickly turned to the sound, "Oh, Alastor!"

"How much has he heard? Everything, I suppose..." You thought.

He stood behind you from the right and looked at you widely smiling.

"How are you?" You asked, because this silence, that nobody dared to break, was unbearable, and also you indeed wondered how did he feel after meeting Lucifer. Their meeting was... It was just awful.

"Oh, I'm fine, my dear, thank you for asking," He adjusted his monocle, still looking at you. His sharp smile gave you shivers down your spine. He didn't take his eyes off you.

Husk lowered his eyes and said, "That's nothing interesting, boss."

Angel was drinking his cocktail.

"Is that?" Alastor looked at him for a second, but then his gaze came back to you, "I believe, that whatever our fragile friend says is quite interesting."

"Well, you didn't see but I almost fell today-" You had began, before Alastor interrupted you. Did it really bring him that much pleasure?

"My dear, I saw everything! And your dreadfull fall too. I'm glad that your friend caught you. Who knows what the consequences could be?"

Did he really knew everything that happened in the hotel?

"Well... You're right. This case made me think of the consequences."

"Now you mind to be in ignorance, doll?" He tilted his head. You understood he still remembered your first meeting and first conversation.

"It seems..." You murmured not really sure.

"Then..." Alastor ran his claws over your hand. His breath tickled your ear.

"Stop it." Said Husk.

Alastor turned his head to him. His left hand was still on your forearm. His gloves were leather.

"Excuse me?"

Husk massaged the bridge of his nose, "It was a long day for all of us. It's time we went to bed."

You heard that crackling near your ear became louder and you said, "Yes! I also think so!"

You jumped off from the stool, "Good night everyone!" and walked away.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

It was a very hot day in hell and it became even hotter after you had finished cleaning your room. Of course Nifty was responsible for this, but you didn't like when your things were touched. So Nifty only dusted your room, removed stain out of the furniture if you left some, and carried the trash out. But all the papers, cups, plates, and clothes, that was scattered all over the place... You had to take care of all this yourself.

After you cleaned the room, you took a shower and changed the clothes. You put on palazzos, that were so wide they looked like a skirt, and a shirt and rolled up the sleeves. After the clean up you understood how many books were in your room, that you hadn't read, and that, you knew, you wouldn't read. So it was time to borrow them back to the hotel library. You took one stack of books and left the room.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Pressing books to your chest you carefully stepped on the first step of the stairs. You tried to peek out from behind the books, but then they began to wobble, and you had to pull them closer to yourself. There was no way to watch underfoot and not to drop the books. You slowly walked down, when a toe of your shoe stuck in something and you completely lost the balance. Books fell on the red carpet and you rolled down the stairs.

You heard quickly steps coming near, as you were lying on a landing. A pair of someone's hands raised you a little. You felt dizzy and leaned on them. You touched your forehead with your palm, as if that could stop the dizziness. Then you looked on your fingertips, excepting to see red wet stains on them, but all you saw was white porcelain. You didn't know whether to be happy about it or not. You were still leaning on someone's strong shoulders and were sure that it was Angel, but suddenly a sharp red claw ran down your cheeck slowly.

"Just a little crack, my dear, " His breath burnt your nape, "Nothing to worry about. You're much firmer than I thought."

You quickly turned to face him.

Alastor sat in front of you, holding you by your shoulders, so you wouldn't fall.

"I'm fine," You said and got to your feet, making him remove his hands, but felt a strong pain in your left ankle, and would definitely had fallen, if Alastor hadn't caught you.

"Seems like not totally fine, dear? Need some help?"

You leaned against his arm and looked at your ankle. You tried to stand on your aching foot but just a touch of your toes to the floor made a terrible pain ran through your leg. You gasped for breath and grasped Alastor's arm.

"Severe wound, darling," He said seriously, and it seemed for you, that your heard sympathy in his tone. "How could this happen?"

You didn't want to confess that you entangled in your own trouser legs.

Suddenly you didn't touch the floor anymore and found yourself in Alastor's arms. He glanced at you, and you felt like your cheeks turned red as the colour of his eyes. You turned away and looked at his bowtie and than looked at your knees. Alastor took your more comfortably; one his hand was on your back and other under your knees. Until this moment you'd never been carried in this way, as a princess, as a bride, as a doll. He passed by the books scattered all over the stairs.

"My books-" You said.

"Don't worry, little doll, they will be back on their places in the library."

"Okay," You only sighted.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Alastor was carring you thought the hotel without stopping. His steps were long and fast and though he held you firm you were afraid to fall, so you put your hands around his neck.

"How do you feel, dear?"

You thought for a second and replied, "I'm fine now. I don't feel any pain when I..."

How to say it? When I don't touch the ground? When I'm carried by you?

"Well, no pain, when I don't need to use my hurt leg."

Alastor didn't answer anything and just hummed.

You asked yourself why didn't he use his shadow teleportation. And wait, did he missed your door?

"Um, Alastor, you've missed my room," You said.

"We're not heading for there, my dear."

He went up to the next floor. Were you heading for..?

He stopped in front of a door with a unique wood engraving depicting a deer in the forest. The animal was surrounded by the branches of the trees and the bushes, and it itself looked directly at the audience. Its antlers were branches too and singing birds sat on them. The silhouette of a hunter could be seen in the corner.

The door opened and Alastor, with you in his hands, entered.

It was the first time you saw his room. The first thing you saw was an evening forest. The room began with a usual quarter and than there was no wal, just a dark forest. Twilight had already covered all the century-old trees and everything plunged into blue shadows. The chill night wind barely kissed your cheeks. You looked around the room. It was in dark red colours with only the most necessary wooden furniture: a fireplace and two armchairs in front of it, a desk and a chair, a chaise longue with velvet cushions. On the walls there were a lot of empty frames, in some of them behind the glass there were leaves of fern. You saw a big bookcase, which had not only books on its shelves but also bones and skulls, dried flowers and candles. On a coffee table you saw a gramophone. There was a whole collection of records in the commode nearby.

The room was cozy and warm. Somehow you felt yourself here more comfortable than in your own room.

Alastor lay you on a chaise longue and sat next to you, so both of your legs were on his knees.

"Well, let's see what we have here. May I?" Said Alastor, asking to take off your shoe. You nodded. He untied a shoelace and took off the shoe. He took off his gloves, and examined your foot. His touches didn't bring you any pain. He softly touched your frigale skin, his long fingers ran up and down the side of your foot, studying you. His gaze was fixed on your joint.

"Strange..." He pronounced, not taking his eyes off from your ankle, "There is no blood, though I'm sure you're not blodless, otherwise you wouldn't blush so much every time I touch you." He looked at you with a sly smile, and you felt how your cheeks became more red.

He laughed, "Hahaha don't worry, dear, it just shows how modest and well-bred you are!"

"Maybe you could just do something with my leg? I actually don't understand what you're trying to do, as you're neither doctor nor doll-maker."

"Trust me, my dear, I know what I'm doing."

You only frowned.

"And what are you doing?"

He removed his hands from you and said, "Well, it seems that you've got severe damage, and the only solution is to replace the broken joint with a new one."

You glanced at him with your eyes wide open.

"How to replace..?"

"Like this," He said and pull your foot out.

You blinked. Didn't say anything. Didn't scream or cursed. Did he just..? But more importantly, there were no pain. How was it possible? You were torn between the thought that you didn’t feel anything and what he just did.

Alastor was looking at you with a smirk and than looked at the part of you that he held in his hand.

You kept silence, you just didn't know what to say. You were too shocked.

"You know, my dear," He said twisting your foot in his hands, "dismembering you doesn't satisfy me, as you act like you lost your tongue and your your limb."

You finally opened your mouth to speak, "It's... It's just shocked me... I didn't expect... This." By "this" you meant his action and your own feeling, or rather feelingless.

"Why, me doll! Your body keeps much more secrets then you think."

After that he removed broken ball-and-socket joint, and with his magic he made a new one, wooden, and put it on the place. Then he fastened the foot there.

All this surgery made you feel rather uncomfortable. You felt how grotesquely it was and it made you loathed the whole situation and your body. You felt the urge of crying.

"Well, my dear, test it!"

His voice suppressed your thoughts, and you tried to move your ankle.

"God, that's just perfect," You said with admiration.

The wooden ball in your leg moved freely without any pressure, it slid like it was oiled. And there were no pain.

You twisted your ankle a little more, understanding that it felt like your own joint, like it always was there. Only the dark colour and tree drawing made it clear that it wasn't yours from the start.

"Thank you," You said as you were about to get up, but then you saw Alastor's face and stopped. He was looking at you. His gaze was sharp and his smile was greedy. You swallowed.

"You don't think, my little doll, that I did it all for free, do you?"

You kept silence, hoping that he wouldn't ask the highest price for his help — your soul.

You didn't answer and he continued, slowly running his hand over your leg and leaning closer over you.

"My soul..?" You mumbled. You didn't even want to say it aloud, you only thought it, but Alastor heard it and exclaimed, drawing himself up, "Nonsense!" He grasped your palm, "Isn't the satisfaction of my curiosity a fair price for the help I offered for you? And moreover, I'm sure that this is favourable for you too, isn't it? I know you're still wondering what are you?"

He held your palm in his, tenderly and yet firmly. You knew he was right. You wanted to know. But you couldn't do it yourself. You wanted him to dispel your fears and all the mysteries.

You looked away and pronounced quietly, "Do it."

Alastor's smile became narrower and longer. He brought your hand closer to him and leaned towards it. His left hand rested on the chasie longue next to your waist, with his right hand he held your palm, turning the inner side of the forearm towards him. His mouth slowly got closer to your skin and you felt his hot breath.

You held your breath, when he opened his mouth and you saw his sharp teeth. They touched your skin, and you quietly took a breath. Alastor closed his eyes. Your skin was porcelain indeed, and his teeth didn't sink into your flesh immediately, as it had always happened before. You heard a quiet crack under his fangs and gasped. His fangs sank deep inside of you, so you couldn't see them anymore.

Your lips trembling, you were choking from pain and... pleasure. You couldn't deny, you liked him inside of you. He softly held your hand, playing with your fingers; his knees touched your legs. All these touches helped you not to focus on pain.

When Alastor slowly opened his eyes, you didn't notice his pupils right away. Did he roll his eyes with pleasure?

Looking at you from half-closed eyelids, Alastor pulled his teeth out of you. You saw his teeth were wet and red, red with your blood. You looked at your forearm and saw an oval red wound with several dark holes in it. A thin stream of blood flowed down, approaching your shoulder. Alastor ran his index finger up your arm, wiping the blood. It tickled. He raised his finger to his mouth and put it inside.

"Tasty," He said, putting his finger out of his mouth.

You felt dizzy. You felt that the ground was leaving from under you, although you were lying. The room became unbearably hot, you couldn’t get enough air.

Alastor closed his eyes again, leaning closer to your arm, but you pulled out your hand and pressed it your chest. Your shirt got stained.

"That's enough," You said and sat up.

Alastor didn't move, he was still sitting upon you, and you turned out face to face, so close that you could see each others in your eyes.

You glanced at his lips and saw a drop of blood in the corner of his mouth.

You slowly raised you healthy hand towards him and wiped the red stain with your thumb. Alastor was looking at you without blinking. You looked at blood and put your finger in your mouth, just as he did a minute ago. After a while you said "Not to my taste."

Alastor blinked and laughed leaning away from you, "Hahaha of course, my dear! Nobody loves their own taste."

You didn't know how to be. Alastor sat between your legs, and you couldn't read what he was about to do. The instinct of self-preservation told you, that it was better to get away, but nevertheless you wanted to give up and let him to do whatever he wanted to. Even if it meant, that you'd be eaten.

Alastor took you wounded hand and you understood what he was about to do.

"No!" You pull out your hand and smiled awkwardly, "I believe it was enough for the first time haha"

"If there was the first time, my dear, then there must be the second one, hmm? And the third one?" He leaned away from you, but his smile still held you.

"Maybe," You said and stood up. Alastor remained sitting.

You adjusted your sleeve as you walked so that no one could see the wound. And now you had to find a doll doctor or something. How to explain all this blood on your shirt to the residents if you meet them now?

When you came up to the door you heard Alastor's voice,

"You know, my dear, I haven't finished exploring your body."

You turned to him. Alastor sat, crossing his legs. One of his arms he laid on the back of the chaise longue and other one was on his knee. He didn't look at you, his gaze was focused on the forest.

"I still have so many questions..."

He said it more for himself and very quietly, almost without ordinary static sound. You didn't answer anything, and only thought about what could he do to you.

You turned away and left the room.

"Stupid doll," You thought.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

invitation for a deernner: @noraunor

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor fanfiction

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writeyouin · 2 months

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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Stories and Dolls

A/N – Okay, so I just quit my job and I’m freefalling right now. Time to channel my anxiety into fanfiction. Also, this chapter is darker so I’m raising the rating to M.

Warnings – MENTIONS OF RAPE, S/A, ABUSE, KIDNAPPING, AND TORTURE.

Rating – M

TAG-LIST: @lxkeee @moonieper @sle3pyh3ad2 @gomib0 @mixplara @ica1

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Lucifer had to admit, he was getting used to you. He enjoyed making breakfast a show in the morning, entertaining you with his parlour tricks and general showmanship. You were like a child, easily amused by flashing lights or some sleight of hand.

And of a night, he also found your company less than objectionable, whether you were reading a book in the library with Spick and Span curled up at your feet, in front of a roaring fire (you had conjured them medallions with their names on them, so as to tell them apart), or those nights when you came back from visiting the hotel and regaled him with the tales of its inhabitants. Lucifer was starting to like Angel Dust, even if he didn’t believe the porn star actually had a chance at redemption. Nifty also seemed entertaining, Husk could be a source of wisdom and comfort in equal measure, and Alastair… Well, he was there too, taking up too much of your attention.

Yet, despite his newfound almost-friendship with you, he couldn’t help thinking about what you had said on your first night in the manor.

‘You don’t even know why I’m down here, and you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same.’

You were right. He didn’t know why you were there, and that was driving him crazy. He wanted to like you. Truly, he did. But how could he like you when he didn’t know your sin? People got sent to Hell for a reason! They wasted their free will. They sold drugs to kids, murdered people, trafficked victims, tricked and swindled others. For all Lucifer knew, you were there for drowning puppies.

The thought made him deeply uncomfortable.

Okay. He would ask you about it. No big deal. People probably talked about why they went to Hell a lot right? That was a normal conversation for Sinners, probably…

Lucifer wasn’t entirely wrong in thinking that. However, nearly all Sinners lied about what they went to Hell for, making it even more brutal or horrifying to try and earn some extra credit among their fellow Demons. Someone who had killed one person would claim to have been a serial killer. A low-life drug dealer would paint themselves as a mafioso with a drug empire, and arsonists… They didn’t have to lie much, as fires tended to spread quickly and they generally were as psychotic as they claimed to be.

It was all basic self-preservation in Hell. Be the toughest person there, so nobody could find new ways to hurt you. Kill or be killed (figuratively, since Demons couldn’t technically kill other Demons), sink or swim, do unto others before they did unto you.

Right. When Lucifer next saw you, he would ask.

“Hey Lucifer,” You said upon returning to the manor from the Hotel, “You doing okay?”

Lucifer froze. He hadn’t expected to see you so soon. Fuck.

“Hey bitch,” Lucifer greeted, feeling entirely awkward, yet trying to feign confidence.

“Uh… Back at ya,” You reciprocated confusedly.

“Sooooo,” Lucifer started, steepling his fingers together, and holding them to his mouth, his brow knitting together worriedly, “I have a question for you.”

“Oh.” You were surprised by Lucifer’s admission. While the two of you generally made conversation, he didn’t tend to ask too much. Besides, in the preface of announcing his question, it seemed that he was likely to ask you something personal.

You waved your hand casually, indicating that he was free to ask away.

“How- Uh how was everything at the Hotel? Is my little girl doing okay?”

As you smiled and fell into a description of how Charlie was doing and her general excitement about her meeting with Heaven, Lucifer cursed himself. He knew that what he wanted to ask was important, but it was just so personal. Well, at least he was happy to hear about his daughter. There were also some other colourful stories included in your conversation.

Finally, you wrapped up the conversation, effectively ending it when you casually said, “Anyway, I’m going to get ready for bed. I’m real tired, you know?”

Lucifer didn’t say much as you left, he was still pondering whether you might be a puppy killer or relative and accomplice to that Jeffrey Dahmer fellow, or something equally disturbing. If not… Why were you there?

Having gotten ready for bed, you sighed, letting the day’s events wash over you, lifting a weight off your shoulders. You were tired, but the day had been a good productive one. Moreover, it was nice to end the day by standing out on the balcony, overlooking the rest of Hell.

There was a time when you had died, during which you stood atop a building in the main streets watching all the fights, looting, and maiming, and you were horrified. Then, you met Charlie, and she had been so wonderfully pure, good, and non-judgemental that you had to agree with her. Hell could be a home to you, and all the other Sinners who lived there, and Sinners could always change for the better.

While you held onto the balcony railing, leaning over it, and staring at the red horizon, Lucifer approached your open door at the entrance of your room, knocking despite the open invitation to come in.

You turned and smiled at him, your smile putting him at ease.

“Come in,” You offered.

He did so, crossing the large room and taking quick mental notes of the changes you had made. They were minor, but they spoke of your personality. You had lit scented candles, brightening the room – the official scent name was Tapioca Tit-play.

Subconsciously, Lucifer worked his magic to remove the off-smell that he had placed there; it was redundant when your candles covered it, and he didn’t mind your company so much anymore.

He also observed several other items. There was a photograph of everyone at the Hotel, though you had drawn Alastor on the end in crayon since he didn’t love to be captured in photographs (he could bear it unlike being filmed, but he didn’t care much for it.)

Wrapped around your bedposts were nightlights to keep out the dark. On your bed, you had a teddy of one of Sir Pentious’ egg-bois, a gift from him. Husk had gifted you with a bottle of his best Whiskey, though it remained unopened on the nightstand. There was a cockroach/daisy hybrid necklace wrapped around a book. The candles were from Angel Dust. Beneath your pillow was a dagger, gifted by Vaggie, for your protection. Alastor had given you a collection of books from the store in Cannibal Town, including several that were rumoured to have been stolen from Heaven’s library, though nobody was certain where that rumour started or if it was even true, though there were no copies of the books anywhere else in Hell.

Although Lucifer had no way of knowing these items were all presents from your friends at the Hazbin Hotel, he could tell that you cared deeply for the odd assortment by their placement on the two bedside tables; they had been positioned with care, and were well looked after.

Then, his eye caught the rubber duck, slightly hidden behind the picture frame. He remembered making that one. As a hellhound imitation, it was meant to teleport to whoever needed it most inside the Manor, offering protection should they come under attack. Naturally, he and his family didn’t need such protection, but he had been experimenting with what powers he might imbue unto yet another duck.

He decided not to mention it as he joined you on the balcony, looking you over in your pyjamas.

You also spared him a glance, noting that he seemed more relaxed. Although he was still in his usual attire, he had removed his top-hat-crown and his overcoat, revealing the waistcoat and shirt beneath; the sleeves were rolled up, giving him a more casual appearance.

“Hell’s skies are beautiful, aren’t they,” You stated, returning your gaze to the horizon.

Lucifer looked up, but all he saw was Heaven, the home that didn’t want him.

“(Y/N),” He started, forcing himself to look down, so he wouldn’t have to stare at the painfully beautiful golden glow above.

“Hm?”

“How did you end up here?”

Your grip tightened on the railing drawing Lucifer’s gaze to the whites of your knuckles.

Your whole body became tense and you answered with a ragged breath, “I died.”

“Yes but-” Lucifer was about to lead into the question of your sins, but you spoke up again, seemingly misunderstanding the question as you continued, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

“I was- I was murdered.”

Lucifer could have explained that the cause of your death wasn’t what he had been driving at, but now he was darkly fascinated. If you were the same kind-hearted, warm person in life, why would anyone wish to bring about your death?

He remained silent as you began recounting the manner in which you had been killed.

“I had a friend,” You started slowly, taking steady breaths between each part of the story that followed as if it would make it any easier. “I mean- I- I thought he was my friend. I loved him. He knew that. He counted on it.”

“I thought that he travelled for work. That’s what he told me. It’s why he was always coming and going. But no… He was just looking for more people like me. He found people. Made us fall for him. Then he- he took me out on a date. Blindfolded me. Said it was a surprise. I- I trusted him, but the blindfold just made it easier for him to- He knocked me out.”

You subconsciously touched the back of your head, remembering the blow that had come with no warning.

Lucifer turned to you, one hand holding onto the railing, the other planted firmly at his side.

“Did he-” He started to ask.

You shook your head. “It wasn’t rape. It was worse.”

You shivered, waiting until you were certain you weren’t going to vomit. Then you continued, your skin ashy.

“I woke up in a- It was like a cinderblock cell, but it had been sort of decorated to look like a fancy suite?”

You recalled the room. It was damp, and the floor was cheaply produced concrete, given away by the amount of air bubbles which had never been levelled and now pocked the surface, like a teenager with bad acne. The cinderblock walls were easy to see, though some talented artist had been paid to paint it with the likeness of the Ritz hotel or somewhere equally fancy. While that had made it look better, it was still clearly a cinderblock wall; then again, you can’t polish a turd, but you can roll it in glitter.

You had been handcuffed to a chair in the centre of the room. Your clothes had been taken, and you had been dressed in a skimpy shortened tuxedo, with a fitted vest instead of a jacket. You remembered screaming till your voice was raw. You screamed so much that you ended up spitting flecks of blood, but nobody came to save you.

“I- I was tied up,” You said simply, downplaying the memory to Lucifer, more for your own sake than his, though he could see the pain behind your eyes.

Lucifer didn’t interrupt your story, but his anger was growing. Behind him his tail lashed furiously, his eyes became flaming red, and his fangs became sharper. You hadn’t noticed, you were lost in memory, and you had yet to look his way since beginning your story.

You sighed, thinking of the torture, humiliation, and suffering which followed, all at the hands of one man. It wasn’t your captor. It was who he had sold you to.

“It- I was- They were making snuff films. I don’t know how many people died there before or after me but- I was sold to an American. He- He liked to cut things. It was a while before- I don’t know if I bled out, or if my heart stopped, maybe both?”

For the first time, your skin changed colour, turning from your regular human shade to a pale seaweed-green. Against the colourful backdrop, Lucifer could see your now blinding white glowing scars. Upon your death they remained hidden, completely invisible, but now you were distressed… You seemingly did have something of a Demonic appearance after all.

You were a ragdoll.

There wasn’t a part of your body that hadn’t been cut, or originally sliced off, only to be repaired in death. In all likelihood, your real body was probably burned, buried, or dissolved in acid. In Hell, your scars were the stitches that held your body together. Lucifer now understood your human appearance since like a real ragdoll, you were good at playing dress-up. He bet that if you explored your abilities, you would have been able to look like anyone, a skin-changer, but you had adopted your appearance in life; it was likely an accident caused by the trauma of your memories.

“(Y/N),” Lucifer said through gritted teeth. He wanted to be comforting, but he was already thinking of all the ways he would punish your killer and any accomplice he may have had. There were worse things than Death in hell; he would torture those bastards for eternity, and then when he finally grew bored, he would end them with angelic weaponry, wiping their souls from existence, leaving no trace of such monsters.

You didn’t turn to face your King, who was now in his full Demonic form, his rage at its peak.

“Just go,” You murmured despondently, staring over the balcony, and down to the ground. A long drop and a short stop… It was a shame it wouldn’t kill you; at least the pain would end if you died.

“But-” Lucifer reached you to put a hand on your shoulder, his wings almost curling around you as if to envelop you.

“I- I would like to be alone. Please.”

Lucifer hesitantly withdrew his hand, “I’m sorry.”

That was all he said before walking away, leaving you alone.

You wished that you could have been left to wallow, but your phone soon buzzed and you opted to check it in case it was an emergency.

Retrieving it from the bed, you found a message from Charlie.

“EMERGENCY. ANGEL DUST. RELAPSE. GET OVER HERE. PLEASE!”

Damn it! If Charlie was texting you for this, it meant that Husk was either the cause or he wasn’t around to be the solution. Moreover, while Charlie would want to assist her friend, she was likely the last person Angel Dust wanted to see; sometimes, though she was well-intentioned, she just didn’t understand such issues or she could be a bit much.

Still stuck in your ragdoll body, you ran back to the balcony and vaulted over the edge. It wasn’t a smooth landing, and it hurt a lot. Anyone else would have broken their bones, but when you were like this, there wasn’t anything else that could be broken. Everything had already been torn off you. Ignoring the pain, you ran until you found a taxi. You took it to the Hotel.

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magicalregression · 3 months

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General Hazbin Hotel hcs

Hello fellow agere hazbin enjoyers. I come with hcs for the main 6. Pls enjoy

🛡 ~ Charlie ~ 🛡

She's a little. Regresses to like 6-7 y/o and is so sweet and innocent.

Still wants to help everyone, and spends her time drawing posters to attract people to the hotel.

Her main cg is Vaggie for obvious reasons, though she will also gravitate towards Angel if he's around.

Eepy baby. Once all of her energy is gone, pick her up and she falls right to sleep.

⚔ ~ Vaggie ~ ⚔

She's a caregiver. Vaggie also will babysit the other littles in the hotel if needed, though she has an obvious preference for Charlie.

Is kinda hard on the littles when need be, can be very strict. This is especially true for bed/nap time, mealtimes, and baths. No stinky, overtired littles on Vaggie's watch.

This just popped into my head but cuddles where she uses her wings as like a blanket thing or just lets the little snuggle into it yes yes

Tends to clean up after playtime. She wants to be madder, but could never be truly angry with her babies.

🕷 ~ Angel Dust ~ 🕷

Angel is both a little and a babysitter. When he regresses, it's at a similar age to Charlie, maybe a bit older to around 7-8.

His energy levels highly fluctuate depending on his emotions before regressing. If he had been in a stressful situation or recently come back from work, he's very tired and kinda just wants to be alone with whatever he's entertained himself with. If he's not in a high emotion environment, he's full of energy!

Likes playing tag and hide and seek with the others. Sometimes forgets that he's much bigger than everyone, though, and may accidentally cause some booboos.

As a babysitter, he takes his job very seriously. Might not be as strict about meals or naps (definitely lets them just have as many sweets as they want), but will take tea parties and games very seriously.

📻 ~ Alastor ~ 📻

I know a lot of people like little Al but for personal reasons, he is a caregiver lol. He has too soothing a voice and mannerisms with Nifty for me to not harp on it.

Takes his little out to Overlord meetings or to visit Auntie Rosie. When they go see Rosie, she always has a new outfit for them, whether a onesie or full outfit, there's always something. At the Overlord meetings, he'll let them sit in his lap or between him and Rosie. The others don't mind bc I say so.

Alastor doesn't like touch he doesn't initiate, and you are no exception. That being said, if they find a way to pull on or play with his ears, the most he'll do is let out a long sigh before letting them continue.

Calls them a little Overlord. "Come now, little Overlord, it's time for bed." and "Little Overlord, what have I told you about sneaking up on others?" and the like.

I have the most thoughts about him but will keep this short for everyone's sakes

🧹 ~ Nifty ~ 🧹

A little. She has the biggest fluctuation though and will be either 2 or like 7, no in betweens.

Always has energy. She's bouncing off the walls. Because of this, Angel is the last person asked to take care of her because he'll give her candy and then she gets even worse. He's also a little cautious because of the one time he made her cry, but Nifty just kinda drifts over to him anyways.

Husk usually gets stuck looking after the lil bugger. It'll start as Alastor's problem, then he conveniently disappears and Vaggie gives her to "kitty" (it's not that they don't love her, they do, she's just a lot lol). I imagine little Nif and Husk have a similar dynamic to Boo and Sully in Monsters Inc.

The only way to get her to sleep is with radio static. The white noise calms her down. Bonus points if you give her a fluffy plush to hold as well.

🐱 ~ Husk ~ 🐱

Husk doesn't really like children, even of the regressing variety. It's not that he hates them, he'd just prefer to not have to interact with them as much as he can. The most he'll do is babysit, but even then he's a little clueless.

Tends to get stuck with Angel the most, but he prefers Nifty just because he's been around her the most over the years.

Has the bar stocked up with different juices and milk and other drinks for kids. Also has a wide variety of sippy cups with different themes for different littles. Charlie likes the ducky one, Angel has one with crabs on it, and Nifty's are all plain. Everyone uses the space themed ones, though, so he has the most of those.

He has a little nook under the bar that someone could use as a little hiding space as well. If the littles are playing hide and seek and someone goes down there, Husk is the last to snitch.

If you wanna see specific scenarios or hcs about certain characters, feel free to send in an ask!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel agere #hazbin hotel age regression #sfw agre #sfw age regression #caregiver alastor #caregiver vaggie #little charlie #little nifty #little angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel vaggie

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dealwithadeer · 3 months

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Husk was tending to the bar, for once by himself. Being alone was not something he particularly minded and even though he had grown used (and maybe even attached) to the other residents of the Hotel, the peace was nice for a chance.

"Ah, Husker, my old friend. Am I happy to see you here all by yourself."

A sigh escaped Husks lips, of course there was only so much peace he would ever be granted in his afterlife.

"What do you want, Boss?", he added the 'Boss' in what was trying to be a casual way but he knew that ever since his comeback and especially after his fight with Adam Alastor had gotten insistant in Husk not forgetting 'his place'.

"Why, I just want to have a little chat with you."

The smile was there, trying to be deceptively friendly but Husker saw how tense it was and his ear picked up how there was a barely noticable increase of static in Alastors voice.

Alastor sat down on one of the barstools, leaning a bit too close into Husks personal space. Which was nothing new since Alastor demanded of everyone to respect his unspoken no-touching rules but tended to ignore anyone elses privacy.

Especially Husks.

"Our lovely hotel hostess Charlie has just told me about how happy she is with all of the progress you have made, and I thought it would only be fitting to congratulate you on it myself."

"What fucking progress?"

Alastor leaned backwards a little.

"It has been noted that you drink quite a lot less nowadays than you did in the beginning of your .. employment, you also seem to get along quite well with everyone else, a real team player even (not that you and Nifty have never worked as a team before)", Alastor gave a shortlaugh followed with a laughing track as the memories of previous times he had employed his two favorite souls help came to the Radio Demons mind. "Charlie is particularly impressed with how helpful you have been with our clients, getting them to 'open up and share their problems' and such." Alastor, thankfully seemed to find all of this quite ridiculous.

Or at least Husk has thought and hoped that he would find Husks willing help and involvement in the Hotel, that perhaps Husk was even beginning to believe and fellow along the Princess's dream was more like a joke to Alastor than something actually worthy of his attention.

But Alastors laughter stopped. The demons smile was still there, but it became so utterly fake that it almost betrayed itself and became a snarl.

"She even said, that you had 'great chances' of getting into Heaven together with our famous little streetwalker."

Husk did not like the way Alastor said that. He really did not like the way he talked about Angel, but if Husk reacted troo strongly than the Radio Demon would do much worse to Angel than just talk about him in an insulting tone.

The cat demon felt a sort of strange tightness around him. If he had bothered to to turn around he would have seen Alastors shadow holding unto his in a manner that very much conveyed 'you are not leaving me'.

But instead, Husk, for a short moment, imagined his own redemption and standing before open Pearly Gates.

And he laughed.

Alastor was not entirely sure what to make of 'Huskers' laughter since it happened so rarely in his presence nowadays (it used to be different, years ago).

"I ain't going to no fucking Heaven."

The tension that Alastor had not been entirely aware had been there was gone immediatly. Most of it, that is.

"And whyever do you thnk that, ol' pal? From everything I have heard redemption actually seems to be quite possible."

"For people like Pentious or Angel. But not for me. You should know that, Al."

Husk suddenly felt quite sober.

"I was an Overlord for fucks sake. I used to force people to gamble with their souls, I took pleasure in the power that I had over them and in the end I gambled them all away in a game with you even though I perfectly knew what you would do to them. Hell, I even sold away my own soul to you just to satisfy my ego and greed. And you know how that worked out for me."

"Yes, Husker" and the smile lost nearly all of his fakeness and Husk knew that whatever he just said was just what Alastor has wanted to hear from him.

"I know"

#the tragedy of Husk not believing he deserves redemption #he tries to get Angel to Heaven even though he does not think he can get there himself #and Alastor is strangely happy with that #his Husker is not gong anywhere and not even trying to get out of the contract #because he does not think there is a way out #not for him #husk hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #radiohusk

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girlrachael · 6 months

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Dystopian Cass and Hoddi save Dystopian Tap - 2.4k fic

Business has been a little slow lately, the only things that were truly interesting about this mundane life is when the precious little bun-bun of an employee and my business partner Hoddi are in the building. I have known Hoddi a very long time before we both met our bun-bun employee. But Tap walked into our lives, more liked crashing but I digress, and fit in like a glove. Although it took a bit for that to cement in Tap’s mind. And speaking of me and Hoddi’s little bun-bun she was due back any minute now. And if she couldn’t make it on time she would check in saying that she would be late and then give an estimated time on when she would arrive. And if even that fails Hoddi has safety trackers to see where Tap is and whether or not Tap is in true need of our help. Tap also has a panic button that goes off if she presses it as well as goes off if it’s destroyed.

Getting off topic, without them both around the world would seem to go by in a crawl, and it doesn’t help that I’m on this weird version of constant life support, not for a lack of trying on Hoddi and Tap’s parts, this body and my A.I. just take way too much power to operate properly these days compared to the new and improved A.I.’s up in the good parts of town. It just mainly means that I can’t really go anywhere, but when the both of them are here it’s not so suffocating anymore. And while the so-called new and improved A.I.'s were reduced to mere servants by the alleged high classes of the world, I was one of (if not the only one) the lucky A.I.’s that was able to get away from the scientists and leaders of our world after they decided that A.I.’s were getting too powerful and that they needed to take back some upgrades to keep the new A.I.’s under their thumbs.

The only caveat against my lucky getaway was that I needed way too much power to remain awake and functioning, and in the middle of me starting to shut down for who knows how long and possibly for good while running away I had a true stroke of luck.

I met Hoddi.

As for the reason why I was running away in the first place, I~ am one of, if not the only one left, of the most advanced models the world had ever seen before the scientists' little purge, and part of the reason of why the purge even started was because my particular model of A.I. had this nifty little ability to hijack nearby fellow A.I.’s and control them. It was meant to be a power for the good of their high and mighty society, like a robot that can run a bunch of stores so the people wouldn’t have to lift their fingers anymore than they already have to.

As to the reason why this great idea didn’t work? There was a little incident that totally~ wasn’t my fault. It’s not like I semi started the rebellion of robots against the people of high town because I didn’t want to be forced to cater to someone’s every whim.

But to even do something like that anymore the power upkeep I would need is absolutely insane, and with how I need to keep hidden for no particular reason at all, I can’t get any better power sources for my body and A.I. or else I’ll be shut down by the people uptown before I can even make a run for it.

Although I’ve mainly just become an energy guzzler because I can’t be completely upgraded because of……. reasons, Hoddi does a terrific job at keeping me semi upgraded and Tap somehow obtains the most excellent parts to help Hoddi upgrade me. The combination of these two wonderful beings is how I am in excellent repair despite us being on this side of town.

But energy guzzler aside, being such an A.I. has it’s perks; 1. It freaks people out, 2. Since I’m such an advanced A.I. most cops think I’m just a fellow person controlling a suit from afar, and finally 3. I’m really~ good at diagnosing a problem in an A.I. or any machine. And this last reason just makes up my entire half of our jobs, can’t have my fellow advance brethren fall to disrepair now can I~.

Although the bar does double as a hotspot for information gathering because of me and Hoddi technically being information brokers as well.

Enough about that, where was I? Oh yeah! Tap! Now that I’m thinking about it, I glance at the clock. Tap was supposed to be here half an hour ago, and checked in 25 minutes ago. Something's up.

I do a silent call to Tap over my interface and wait for them to pick up. Nothing. That’s……. Not good……..

That can only mean that Tap has gotten caught up in something, and getting caught up in something these days just means that people, including yourself, are about to die.

After a couple of more minutes of trying to call Tap and still nothing coming from my attempts, I knew I had to do something. But with how I’m connected to this spot with my generator, I can’t leave. But…… I do have something up my sleeve. Though, I do need Hoddi’s help to make sure this will work.

I proceeded to clear out the bar by saying that I have to close early due to some VIP guests coming soon and that’s usually lingo for ‘SCRAM’. After everyone had cleared out, I went to the deepest part of my storage to find a very old item of mine. It has been awhile but I’ve had these since the creation of my A.I. and body. A very small but powerful generator that works semi like a battery for me. It was ‘advertised’ to last 5 days and could completely recharge in another 5 next to another generator. I was given three and only one can last me at full power for 5 hours max, and if I keep the energy consumption low it could possibly last a full day but it never has before lasted even remotely close to 5 days like it was advertised.

Found it! Now I just need Hoddi’s help. I sent out an emergency call for Hoddi, because I’m not sure if she is in the building right now.

*CRASH*

Nope. She’s in the building. I watch as Hoddi slides around the corner with a concerned look on her face.

“Cass! What’s the call about?!?”

I give her what I hope is a flat look. Her face drops.

“.....Tap?....” I nodded. She immediately growls and lunges for the computer in the corner and starts aggressively typing on her computer, turning on the tracers to find out where Tap is.

After a minute it pops up that Tap is in one of the abandoned warehouses on the edge of the city and her vital signs are…. Okay….. But not 100%. That means that she has probably been taken hostage in hopes of luring someone out, mainly, me and Hoddi. We glance at each other in slight dismay before hardening our resolve. Hoodie looked at my fancy generator in hand and looked back up to me and said, “You sure?” I nodded. Anything for saving our little bun bun.

Hoodie nodded and waved me over so we could quickly set up our plan.

~Earlier with Tap~

Great! Just great! I just had to get that fancy new part for Cass…… I did though, Cass could really use it. But look where it has gotten me! Mister holier-than-thou Inspector Saul is looking down his nose at me with a sneer. After a moment of our glaring contest he opened his garbage mouth.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here. The rumored new partner of the two most elusive beings in the underground.”

I wrinkled my nose, and stuck my tongue out at the foul man, he didn’t like that and spat in my face. I merely grinned in return and gave my two cents on this situation. “Oh…. Partner? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I am merely a thief for hire and someone hired me to do this job. I don’t do partnerships, I work alone InSpEcToR SaUl.”

Sauly boy didn’t like that response.

*THWACK*

Whelp. That punch hurt, but I’m not saying anything about my home, those two are my precious people in this fucked up world and I’m not EVER going to rat them out. As I zoned back into reality after that decent punch Saul landed, I watched as he was rubbing his wrist with a little baby handkerchief, seems fitting for the man baby. Saul looked back to me and with a somehow deeper sneer and started spewing trash again,

“Well you little shit, I am going to extract that information out of you one way or another. And I’m going to keep going till you die. And if you die it will be a lesson to your partners that I am on their trail and will soon catch them.”

At that I snorted and shook my head and replied, “Uh huh, you think YOU are going to find the two most elusive people in the underground and you think that killing ME is going to teach them a lesson?”

Saul glared at me for insinuating that his methods were useless for what he was attempting to do. He opened his mouth to say something else when the lights went out, then we heard skittering, then we were surrounded by an eerie green glow from above, along with a deep mechanical growl.

Me and Saul looked up.

My face lit up with glee, while Saul’s face went so white that I could see it through the green glow. Saul proceeded to stutter out, “A…. A……. A CAS MODEL!?!?!” I watched as Cass closed their mouth and simply smiled a sinister smile at Saul and then started speaking,

“Well, someone seems to know what I am. And you thought it was a good idea to lure me out of my deep, dark hole? What made you think you were going to win?”

At that Saul seemed to try and begin speaking, but I wasn’t paying attention anymore. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a much smaller red glow behind me. I looked to see Hoddi there with her tool kit getting me out of the ropes that Saul had tied me up in. I made a small noise of surprise and that had Saul pausing from his faux confident rant and glancing over. Seeing me now free and Hoddi behind me with her horns and eyes glowing red, Saul seemed to know when to call it quits and retreat so he proceeded to turn and run. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to take all three of us at once even with the little backup he brought with him, although by the looks of it, Cass had taken over the robots from the beginning to make sure they didn’t alert the so-called great Inspector Saul.

After Saul ran out Cass forcefully shut down the robot bodyguards and turned down the power output to orange like they are usually running at. Then they and Hoddi turned back to me and started questioning me, “Are you okay?”, “Are you injured?”, stuff like that. I shook my head that, no I wasn’t injured, and spoke up,

“I know you two are worried about me, but I’m really fine. But we need to get out of here as quickly as we can, because I doubt that Inspector Saul really left without a fight.”

Cass and Hoddi seemed to freeze at that and nodded. Cass immediately picked me up despite my protests and we made our way back to the hideout without being seen.

~After getting back to the hideout~

Cass set me on the bed and both they and Hoddi reluctantly left me in their sights to quickly hook Cass back up to the generator. Once then finished they both rushed to patch me up for any small scrape or bruise. And once they were satisfied with their work they just looked at me, then Cass spoke up,

“What happened?”

I took a deep breath and started, “There was this valuable part I knew was being shipped and while it should have been obvious it was a trap from the way it was only one part being shipped, I just knew I had to get it.”

Hoddi gained an incredulous look on her face and spoke up, “And what, pray tell, was so important that you walked into an obvious trap to try and grab it?”

I simply smiled a cheeky smile and held up the part and said, “This.”

Hoddi and Cass both gasped when they saw it. Hoddi started ranting, “This is the one part that would make that new generator I found work with Cass’s system!” They both turned to me in shock as I simply kept smiling back.

Then Cass reached out and hugged me. I smiled and snuggled into the warm metal that was Cass, and Hoddi joined in after a moment. After enjoying the warmth for a moment Cass spoke up,

“You’re grounded, you know?”

I shot up and exclaimed, “WHAT!? WHY!?” Hoddi!......... Help me!……….”

Hoddi simply shook her head and replied, “Sorry bun-bun, you scared us so it’s bar duty for a week until we’ve calmed down.”

I threw my head back with my arms in the air and exclaimed, “Awww comeeeee onnnnnnnn!”

After pouting for a moment, I started laughing and Cass and Hoddi joined in on the laughter. I’m so glad to have found precious people in this fucked up world. I don’t know what I would do without them. All I know is that I just want to keep on surviving with them until it’s no longer possible, and I will do anything to make sure that happens.

“Were you being serious about the grounding…..?”

“Yes.” “Yes.”

“Awww man…..”

@somerandomdudelmao @hodd1 @tapakah0

#somerandomdudelmao #tapakah0 #hodd1 #fic tag #dystopian au #cass creature #cass fanart tag #tapa

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hellishdeer · 3 months

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Live reactions and ramblings about the the first four episodes of Hazbin Hotel

Warnings: SPOILERS!!! Incoherent, unfiltered thoughts, I wrote them as I was watching. Most of them are in chronological order, but not all

EPISODE 1:

The origin story of Hell is a cool take on the original tale of Adam and Eve and the animation style is very pretty too (also biblically accurate angels 👀)

Adam is just the ultimate douche, fucking great

NIFTY ZONING OUT WHILE SHE IS BEING FILMED, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT-

Really interesting and fun that Alastor straight up REFUSES to be captured in digital media, distorting it and facing the other way during the commercial

EPISODE 2:

SIR PENTIOUS!!!!

Loved whenever Vox got real close to the screen, it looked like your TV was his face, adored that shit 👌Also the way his voice distorted whenever he was pissed

Alastor went missing around the same time as Lilith... I'm sure that is not going to be at all plot relevant..

STAYED GONE. Vox's part sung/spoken like a TV news anchor, Alastor breaking the fourth wall, the varieties of error screens Vox displayed, and THE BLACKOUT. THAT PART GAVE ME SERIOUS CHILLS Love you Alastor but you're scaring me a little

SIR PENTIOUS PLAYING ALONG WITH CHARLIE AND ACTUALLY ENJOYING HIMSELF AT THE HOTEL I'M SOBBING

"You like me. You actually like me!" 😭❤️

The voice messages Valentino sent were fucking vile, fuck him. I'm now rooting for Angel Dust more than ever before..

Sir Pentious finally has canon hypnosis powers!!

Vox, you're cool and all BUT YOU JUST TOLD SIR PENTIOUS TO KILL HIMSELF WHAT THE FUCK NEVER GO NEAR HIM EVER AGAIN OR I SWEAR-

"Just make it quick, I guess. Not that I deserve it.." VIOLENTLY ILL.

SORRY IS WHERE IT STARTS. Just.. *sobs* Charlie is so fucking sweet, I can't wait for their friendship to grow

EPISODE 3:

"Hello purple female!" PLEASE 💀

The scene where Alastor was eating is a reference o to one Viv's older speedpaints (more specifically this one)

"Are those your ears or your hair? I can't tell!" Egg Bois asking the real questions here-

ZESTIEL. He looks so cool and I love the way he speaks, hopefully were going to see more of him!

"Oh, look! There's Frank!" "...We have names?" PFFFTT-

"If I can't help you, what's the point of me?" 😭😭😭

CARMILLA'S SINGING VOICE BLEW ME AWAY HOLY SHIT-

Vaggie's singing voice being hilariously different to her speaking one

Carmilla implying in her song that she killed the angel to protect her daughters I-😭 That, and she doesn't want the rest of hell to start a war they can't win, she is a protector. She's definitely one of my new favorites.

As Zestiel said, Alastor is unpredictable and his motivations are hard to read, I love how he is written in a way you geniunely can't guess his real motivations you go you sinister deer fellow

SIR PENTIOUS AND HIS MATCHING PYJAMAS WITH THE EGG BOIS AND ALL OF THE SNUGGLING TOGETHER IN HIS COZY ROUND BED- *starts to froth at the mouth*

EPISODE 4:

Nifty just laying there kicking her feet while watching p*rn 😭

SIR PENTIOUS BLUSHING AND COVERING HIS FACE WITH HIS HOOD PLEASE-

Is Pentious seriously so lonely that he watches people sleep...stop making me sad

Angel Dust having the most fire wardrobe 💅

TRAVIS IS THE FUCKING DIRECTOR-

Angel Dust's face when he heard Valentino speaking :(

VALENTINO GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF CHARLIE RIGHT NOW.

VALENTINO'S COAT IS ACTUALLY HIS WINGS?!?! That's a very cool design actually

THE DRESSING ROOM IS FUCKING DISGUSTING, IT'S FINE IF YOU LIKE VALENTINO AS A VILLIAN, BUT IF YOU ACTUALLY STAN HIM AFTER THIS I SWEAR-

The contract being signed as "Anthony" :(((

"I'll get her to leave, just don't hurt her." *cries*

Charlie being ready kick Valentinos ass the SECOND she saw Angel's state LET'S GOOOO

Poison is just.. So beautifully animated, but so very disturbing at the same time.. FUCK. VALENTINO.

THE DOTS UNDER ANGEL'S EYES WERE JUST MORE EYES THIS ENTIRE TIME?!? I'm such a dumbass

Throwing cards as a weapon :O

HUSK USED TO BE AN OVERLORD EXCUSE ME?!?!

"If I get broken enough.. I won't be his favorite toy anymore.. And he'll let me go.." CRYING SOBBING THROWING UP

You're a Loser Baby is fucking pretty and adorable! I finally I see the appeal in Huskerdust 🥹❤️

EXPLODING DICE WOOO!

Just now realized Alastor didn't show up once during this episode.. Wonder what he getting up to 🤔

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #alastor #angel dust #sir pentious #charlie morningstar #vaggie #nifty #husk #hazbin hotel vox #valentino #carmilla carmine #reaction

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to-fly-with-clipped-wings · 3 months

Text

Chapter 1.2 - Train Rides and Talking Hats

Pairing: Harry Potter x Chosen One! Reader

“Oi,” you spoke, feeling your jaw clench at the blond boy’s demeanour. “I’d watch what I was saying if I was you, especially considering the crap that’s spewing out of your sewage-system of a mouth.” Draco Malfoy turned his sharpened gaze toward you. “And I’d be more careful if I was you. You don’t want to make enemies with the wrong people.” “The same goes for you.” OR: in which you hitch a ride on the Hogwarts Express and buckle up for one hell of a ride. → Set in a universe where you are the chosen one, and Harry Potter is your best friend who tries to help you navigate the woes of being the lone hero of the wizarding world. A swap au where you are the chosen one, your parents are dead but the marauders + Lily are not. Eventual Harry x Reader, slowburn, friends to lovers. Series Masterlist

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

Perhaps, if you had any less self-respect, having had a mental breakdown on the King’s Cross platform would have been your morning on the 1st of September.

The train leaves at eleven, Hagrid had told you. The Caddels had dropped you off at the station at half past ten before leaving to drop Odette off at her new school, Smeltings, they’d said.

All you were really aware of was the nifty cane that came with the uniform, supposedly used to thwack fellow peers. An excellent training for later life.

Regardless of peculiar apparels or uniform, you had now acquired a steadily rising fear that you would never be able to wear yours, if you couldn’t uncover where exactly platform nine and three-quarters situated on the station.

There they were, right in front of you, platforms nine and ten – right there – but nowhere could you spot any semblance or notion of anything three-quarters related. The large plastic number nine leered tauntingly at you, swinging back and forth vaguely with the passing breeze.

You had pestered the guard manning the station. He hadn’t even heard of Hogwarts, and since you had no flying clue where or even what the school was, you couldn’t describe it to him. The guard stared you down incredulously, as though you were trying to be stupid (you didn’t miss how he eyed Hedwig, the name you had christened your snowy owl, who chirped irritably back at him).

It took every ounce of your remaining willpower to not snap or lunge at him and cause a scene in the middle of the station, especially when a congregation of people had formed a circle around you to observe the exchange curiously.

Apparently, according to a variety of people at the station, there wasn’t even a train that left at eleven o’clock. And to top the cherry on your fabulous sundae of anxiety and chagrin, according to the large clock situated on the arrivals board, you had a little under fifteen minutes to be seated on the train.

You wished Hagrid had left you with more information, but when the man had dropped you back at your house and allowed you the time to blink, he had vanished.

Urgent magical business, you mused dryly. Almost like the kerfuffle of being stranded on a station with not the foggiest idea of where to go.

Fleeting anxiety began to weave around your periphery. What if you missed the train? Were you missing something? Did you need to cast a spell? Oh, you knew you should have read the books before coming to the station. You swore at that moment to leave no page in your spell-books unturned.

You prepared to brandish your wand at the stray ticket box next to platform nine, trying your very best to formulate a spell that would divulge the presence of platform nine and three-quarters.

In a perfectly timed turn of events, a group of people passed behind you, and you managed to glean a glimpse of their conversation.

“ – packed with Muggles, of course –

You heard your neck crack from how fast you wheeled around. Muggles. You had never been happier to hear a single word. The speaker was a stout woman, to an audience of about five red-headed children. Four boys and a girl, who from the conversation that ensued, you discovered was too young to attend Hogwarts just yet.

You turned your hawk-like stare toward ‘Percy’, the oldest boy, as he dashed toward the brick wall of platform nine, pushing his trolley along with him. Wincing, you closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see him and all of his school supplies crash onto the floor.

Miraculously, though, when you peeled your eyelids back open, the boy was gone.

As were the twin brothers, Fred and George (or did their mother say George and Fred?).

There was only one more boy left; a tall – though that entire family seemed to be on stilts – lanky, deeply freckled one. If you wanted to know where the sons were disappearing to, this was your final shot.

“Hey!” you called out, dragging your trolley behind you as you approached the remaining members of the red-headed family. Then, realising how the abruptness of a random girl yelling at someone may be perceived as rude, you decided to dial back your advances. “Hi, sorry. Do you happen to know how to –”

“How to get on to the platform?” she said kindly. “No worries at all, dear. Is this your first time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.”

She pointed at her last son. He had dirt on his nose. You tilted your head slightly toward him in greeting, but your mind, however, was still hyper focused on how the clock was dwindling closer and closer to eleven.

“Pleasure,” you smiled, desperation beginning to blemish your voice, evident as it began to inch one or two octaves higher. “So, er, I’m hoping that you do know how to get to the train?”

“That’s right,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Go on, go now before Ron.”

You ruffled the collar of your shirt, which was looking far too neat and sophisticated (and therefore, not nearly as charming as you liked it to be). “Thanks, Miss.”

You sucked in a deep breath before gathering your courage and sprinted toward the very solid, opaque looking barrier of platform nine and three-quarters.

As you were running, you realised you were almost there – and then, quite suddenly, you weren’t.

Rather, you now found yourself underneath a sign that read Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock.

Permeating through a brick wall was yet another box to check from your list of magical experiences. Twice, actually, if you counted the entrance to Diagon Alley. Odd was it indeed, but it was your odd now, and you lest let anyone try and rob you of it.

You stood in awe, head on a swivel as you examined the new environment. A mammoth of a train, one whose size could only be attributed to the slight of one’s magical hand, with smoke seeping out of its charcoal chimneys, stood tall against the crowded stage of the station.

You turned around to see if the red-headed family had made it through as well, and sure enough, there they were. The woman was still looking at you, and when you waved at her, her face split into a soft smile and she returned the gesture.

You swept your dishevelled hair to the side – it had tousled itself into a heaping mess sometime during your episode on the other side of the train station.

You only registered the consequence of this action when the red-headed woman’s eyes widened, and as an abrupt muteness circulated throughout the platform, capitulating the vocal cords of what seemed to be every single man, woman and/or child present there at that very moment.

Families that were once bidding their children goodbye, lovingly caressing cheeks or smoothing down fly-away hairs, or families who were once loading trunks onto compartments, were now reacting in an identical fashion of the same scene that had transpired at the leaky pub; normal chatter was extinguished, and murmurs crept around the platform like an amateur thief in a treasure trove.

“The lightning scar!”

“Is that – oh, my sweet Merlin, it is!”

“Oh – where –?!”

“Move! Let me get a glimpse!”

“Look, over there!”

“(Y/n) (L/n)!”

You stiffened slightly under everyone’s combined gazes, the abruptness of this changing you off guard. But, as quickly as the alarm had rippled into your body, it had dispersed out.

A smirk split your face, and you nodded toward the woman closest to you (who promptly went pink and near-fainted) as a way to acknowledge that you acknowledged their sudden interest in you. You heard someone chuckle at your brazenness, and a few more flurries of whispers burgeoned from other by-standers.

During the time it took for you to jostle your trolley into an empty carriage near the back of the train, the number of people actively tracking your every move had died down, though only by a fraction. From the corners of your eyes, you could still see the odd third-year trying to estimate how many laces you had on your shoes, no doubt so he could pester his parents into getting the same.

(You kept to yourself that they had previously belonged to Odette, however, as you seriously doubted anyone wanted to know that (Y/n) (L/n), hero of the wizarding world, still wore hand-me-downs.)

Unfortunately, it seemed that although you possessed the power to terminate the reign of the darkest and most powerful wizards in history, you had apparently not attained the muscles required to heave your trunk up the stairs onto the Hogwarts Express. You stumbled back, cursing as you reeled from the pain that rocketed through your foot after you dropped your trunk on your toes.

“Want a hand?”

You looked up. It was one of the red-headed twins, from that family you had met before.

“Yes,” you said almost immediately. “Er, please.”

“Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”

The three of you managed to successfully store your trunk into the corner of your compartment. Before you could thank the twins for their help, though, one of the twins pointed at the spot on your forehead where the thin lightning-shaped scar donned your skin.

“You’re (Y/n) (L/n),” he announced. Just like Olivander, this had not been a question, but rather a statement.

“Yes,” you straightened your posture a little higher. “That’s right. I am.”

The two boys gawked at you, and you subtly swept your sweaty hair to expose the scar even further. To your slightest dismay, however, the familiar voice of the red-headed mother drifted through the carriage before you were able to elaborate further on your battle-scar.

“Fred? George? Are you there?” Both the twins groaned at their mother’s summoning. Sparing one last glance at you, they ambled toward her call. “Coming, Mum.”

You waved the twins goodbye. Sitting down by the window, you ducked your head so you could listen to the family, who were still on the platform, whilst being half-hidden at the same time. Their mother had scourged out a handkerchief and was furiously scrubbing at Ron’s nose to rid the smudge of dirt that laid upon it.

You watched with amusement as Ron tried to lurch away before being caught in his mother’s iron-fisted clutches once again.

“Mum – geroff!”

One of the twins snickered, leaning close to Ron. “Aaaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?”

“Shut up!” You saw the oldest of the red-headed siblings saunter towards his family, already draped in his robes. A shiny red and gold badge was pinned onto his chest, with the letter P engraved onto it.

“Can’t stay long, Mother,” he said stiffly. “I’m up front, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves –”

“Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?” One of the twins gasped, bringing his hands to his face in disbelief. “You should have said something, we had no idea.”

“Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it, once –”

“Or twice –”

“A minute –”

“All summer –”

You huffed a laugh at the back and forth going between the family. Percy the Prefect’s face was starting to sport a lovely bright, irritable shade of red.

“How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?” queried one of the twins.

“Because he’s a Prefect,” their mother smoothed Percy’s already-perfectly-smoothened hair fondly. “All right, dear, well have a good term – send me an owl when you get there.”

She sent him off with a kiss.

You sunk back into your seat. For some reason, the jovial atmosphere you’d felt upon discovering the magical platform had now become strangely dampened.

Call it a moment of weakness, sure – but in that moment, you wished that you could have a mother. A mother who would dote on you like that or who would comfort you.

But, as soon as that looming train of thoughts had festered, you vanquished them from your mind – the other kids could keep their affectionate mothers who waved them goodbye as they left, the same, in fact, would go for their superficial, gentle-natured fathers; you had your fame and that topped any shred of whatever they may have had, whatever you were missing.

As though the red-head family were suddenly attuned with your train of thought, you heard the voice of the youngest child (the girl) pipe up. “Oh! (Y/n) (L/n) On the train? Please can I go see her, Mum, please, please…”

“You’ve already seen her, Ginny, and the poor girl isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo. Is she really, Fred? How do you know?”

“Asked her. Saw the scar. It’s really there – like lightning.”

“Poor dear.”

Your fingers traced the pattern of the scar, not particularly enjoying the feeling of pity emanating from the family.

“No wonder she was alone. I wondered. She was ever enthusiastic, though, when she asked how to get on to the platform. I’d have thought she’d be scared, by herself…”

“Never mind that, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?”

The red-headed mother swelled like an angry bullfrog. “I forbid you to ask her that, Fred! No, don’t you dare. As though she needs reminding of –... ”

The disarrayed ruckus of another family hurriedly barrelling onto the platform and ushering their boy onto the train, stripped your focus from the ginger group.

Observing the mop of black hair, you realised pleasantly that it was the boy you had met at the Quidditch store that day in Diagon Alley. Closely behind him, a stressed looking woman with copper-coloured hair, followed him briskly onto the train. Your lips twitched as you noticed that she possessed the same brilliant green eyes as her son.

The father, a carbon copy of his son, followed seconds after, carrying a tremendously large trunk onto the train. There was one more man – perhaps one of the uncles the boy had mentioned – who remained on the platform, presumably allowing the family their final moments together. He didn’t really look alike to the mother or father of Quidditch Boy’s family, so you guessed that he was probably an uncle by choice, not blood. He had sandy brown hair with substantially sized scars running down the entirety of his face and neck. There was a large, shaggy black dog beside him too, and you swore that it had winked when it saw you looking at it.

A shrill burst of steam raged outwards from the chimney of the train. You guessed that this was a warning to families that the train was about to depart right now. True to your word, just as Quidditch Boy’s mother and father practically leapt off the train carriage they’d left their son in, the train doors slammed shut, and the vehicle began dutifully chugging forward.

Left behind now, was the platform of nine and three-quarters.

Leaning back in your seat, you exhaled roughly. This was it, the moment that marked the beginning of your journey into Hogwarts. You had no clue where you were going, but you just knew it would be good. A grand moment, you were sure, but what you were also sure of was that the next few hours on the train (or possibly days or months, who knew?) would result in you being bored out of your mind. Stuck in an empty carriage by yourself with no one to talk to – tragic – maybe it would do you some good if you popped down into one of the other carriages and try to find some other first-years.

Coincidentally, the door of the compartment was opened by none other than Quidditch Boy himself. His hair was askew, glasses lopsided and cheeks clearly flushed from the rush of trying to scramble onto the Hogwarts Express before it departed. He did not have his trunk with him, so his father was probably able to store it in time.

“Hey, again,” he flashed you a bashful smile. “Would it be alright if I could sit here with you?”

“Sure, no problem.”

You observed him as he took the seat opposite you. He was already wearing robes of sorts, not the Hogwarts ones, judging from the lack of school emblem, but the sorts that you hypothesised would be the wizarding equivalent to a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“Er,” he started, causing you to look over at him. “It’s nice to see you. Again.”

“Yeah.” you agreed with him, offering a lopsided smile. “Great. To meet you.”

“Yep.”

The compartment fell into a highly awkward silence, one that you were not at all familiar with. Back with the Caddels, or even at your previous school, you had no problem whatsoever making friends with strangers. In fact, conversation came easily to you – you weren’t the school captain for no reason, after all. So the stuffiness invading the atmosphere was most definitely unwelcome, and quite frankly, unnatural.

Thankfully the awkward cloud hanging above you and Quidditch Boy dissipated abruptly when the compartment door slid open again, revealing the tall, freckled, ginger boy, Ron.

His eyes widened when he saw you sitting in front of him. “Uh – sorry, anyone else sitting here? Everywhere else is full.”

Quidditch Boy shook his head and Ron took the seat beside them, so they were both facing you. Ron’s eyes hadn’t settled and he kept on glancing toward you and then toward the window whenever he made eye contact with you. It was amusing, his discomfort, from how often he did it.

“Hey, Ron.” The red-headed twins popped into the compartment suddenly. “Listen, we’re going back down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” said the youngest sibling.

So we’re not going to question the spider. Okay, seems good.

“(Y/n),” the other twin, the one who hadn’t been talking to Ron, turned to you. “And other Kid,” referring to Quidditch Boy, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then.” The three of you said bye in unison as the twins left.

As soon as they were gone, Ron blurted out, “Can we see the scar?” You blinked at him, and he went pink, but complied anyway (you had no qualms to showing off the lightning-shaped bolt). Pulling your hair back, the scar on your forehead was revealed to Quidditch Boy and Ron.

“Wow,” breathed out Quidditch Boy. “It really does look like lightning.”

Ron was equally stunned. “So that’s where You-Know-Who – ?”

“Yes.” You grinned brightly at their awed expressions. They stared at you a couple seconds longer before Ron diverted his gaze back to the greenery flitting through the window.

“So, is your whole family magic then?” you asked Ron.

You already knew that Quidditch Boy’s father was a pure-blood and his mother was a muggle-born, whatever that meant; you weren’t going to be the one to say you had no idea what those were.

“Quidditch Boy?” puzzled Quidditch Boy, eyebrows furrowing.

Ah, had you said that outloud? Whoops.

You laughed, bringing a hand to your nape. “Sorry, I don’t know your name, so I’ve kind of just resorted to calling you Quidditch Boy in my mind.”

“Uh, well, I’m Harry, Harry Potter.” said Harry, smiling at you once more.

“Nice to meet you, Harry Potter.”

Ron interjected into the conversation, for which you were grateful. The ginger boy seemed to hold the power of evaporating awkwardness with a snap of his freckles fingers. “Pure-blooded means that everyone on his father’s side is magic. I’m the same – everyone in my family is a wizard, well maybe except for my mum’s second cousin who’s an accountant, but we don’t really talk about him.”

“I get it,” you said, cupping your chin with your hand. “I’ve got no clue what I am. But I know that my father had no magic.”

“A muggle,” Ron nodded appreciably. “Well, basically everyone knows that your mother was a pure-blood, though. That makes you a half-blood like him, since you’re a mix of two bloods.” He pointed at Harry. You were slightly startled that he knew more about your family and lineage than you did yourself. Maybe you should get used to people knowing more about you, than you did yourself.

“A muggle-born’s a witch or wizard who was born from muggle parents,” continued Ron.

You tilted your head to the side. “Where does their magic come from, if they’ve got no magical blood or whatever?”

Ron looked partially affronted. “Who knows, – magic isn’t exactly something that comes in a nice little package that gets delivered to you when the time is right. All I know is that if you’ve got magic, then you’ve got it. That’s all there is to it, really.” He waved his hands about in the air for further emphasis.

This was probably a topic Ron was passionate about, as you noticed his ears flushing red under the combined blank stares of you and Harry. You decided then that if Ron were to ever wear something salmon-coloured, it would definitely wash him out. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between his face and his left knee.

You tried to recover from the painful silence. “You two must know loads of magic then.”

“Not nearly enough as my mum wants me to,” said Harry.

“Hear, hear,” mumbled Ron.

“Huh. Guess that’s one good thing that comes out of being an orphan.”

You chuckled at the uncomfortable looks on the boys’ faces.

“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron, scratching the back of his neck. “What’re they like?”

“Alright,” you shrugged. “Not outstandingly nice or anything, but they do their job. Would be cooler to have wizarding brothers like you though.”

“Not if you’ve got five of them.” answered Ron gloomily. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes and Charlie’s old wand. I wanted an owl, but they couldn't aff – I mean, they got Percy one instead for becoming a Prefect.”

Ron’s ears went pink again. Your brain, it seemed, was temporarily delayed and was not able to formulate a response to that.

“I’m sure you’ll do better than all your brothers combined,” said Harry.

Ron smiled gratefully at him.

As the train rolled onward and your surroundings grew greener, you, quite helpfully, took Hedwig’s cage and placed her on the centre of the table, announcing that the first one to get nipped whilst feeding her treats would be declared the ultimate ‘Lame Loser Lord.’

The three of you fell into an easy conversation after that, and you barely even realised how much time had passed until a smiling, old-looking woman popped her head into the compartment and said “anything off the trolley, dears?”

With that lovely gesture, you had leapt out of your seat and essentially pounced onto the food she was offering. Your pockets were lined with wizard money now, an infinite stash really, and so there was nothing stopping you from buying three of everything she had. As such, you, Harry and Ron had to drag back the food you’d purchased before dumping it on the table.

“Hungry, are you?” said Ron, raising his eyebrows at the pile of snacks that was nearly as tall as him.

“Starving,” you grinned back.

You, Harry and Ron tore into the pasties and cakes, the mountain rapidly diminishing by the second. There was one incident with a chocolate frog creeping into Hedwig’s cage before getting mauled by her talons. The card that supposedly came with the treat, according to Harry and Ron, had also been destroyed, so Harry had given his to you. One with a moving picture of Albus Dumbledore, who had waved politely at your stunned expression.

Once you’d moved onto Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans, you found a lot of enjoyment when Ron had the misfortune of coming across a bean that tasted like dirty socks. Though, your amusement at Ron’s plight had been adjourned with the appearance of a round-faced boy.

“Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?”

“No, sorry.”

You were taken aback when the boy promptly burst into tears. “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!”

“He’ll turn up,” said Harry.

“Yes,” said the boy, turning away dejectedly. “Well, if you see him…”

“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” remarked Ron once the boy had left. “If I’d brought a toad I’d lose it as quick as I could.”

You deadpanned at him. “You haven’t even got any pets to lose, Ron. I’m betting that if you ever got one, you’d have even worse attachment issues than Toad-Boy.”

“Mind you,” said Harry, talking around his mouthful of Cauldron Cake. “That’s saying a lot.”

“What’ve you got then?” asked Ron, turning his head to glare at Harry. “You seem awfully high and mighty for someone who probably doesn’t have rat, or even anything at all.”

“I’ve got a dog,” defended Harry. “Snuffles.”

You and Ron both stifled giggles. “Snuffles? No way you named your dog that!”

“I didn’t pick the name!”

“A dog’s not as good as an owl anyways,” you teased.

“I’d beg to differ – my dog totally is,” Harry grumbled, crossing his arms. “Plus you don’t even need to have an owl – the school’s got its own aviary shock-full of ‘em that you can send letters with.”

“One day, I’m gonna get an owl.” Ron sighed dreamily. “Just for myself, I wouldn’t have to share with Fred or George or Percy or Ginny.”

“Who’s Ginny?”

Before Ron could divulge the identity of this ‘Ginny’, the compartment door was opened by a bushy-haired girl whose face was wrinkled up irritably. Toad-Boy also made a reappearance.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.”

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening. Rather, she had been staring at you.

“You’re (Y/n) (L/n).” she declared matter-of-factly. “I saw you on the station. I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”

Ron gaped at her and Harry blinked a few times repeatedly.

“Be surprised if I wasn’t,” you said, winking cheekily. You also had no idea what she was talking about though.

She studied you appraisingly before asking Ron and Harry “and who are you?”

“Ron Weasley.”

“Harry Potter.”

“Pleasure. Well, I’m Hermione Granger. I was ever so pleased when I got my letter to Hogwarts, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard – I’ve learnt all of our set books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough.”

All three pairs of eyebrows furrowed in synchronisation. You, personally, had only caught about one-third of what she had been saying since she’d been basically rapping out her words.

Herminkoni (was that what she said her name was?) began talking again. “Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds the best by far, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad. Anyay, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”

Herpes Motion thus turned around and left, taking Toad-Boy with her.

“Well,” you announced cheerfully. “She was nice.”

“Sure,” muttered Ron, reaching for a Treacle Tart.

“She was right about one thing though,” said Harry, grinning and brushing his hair out of his face. “Gryffindor, by large, is definitely the best house.”

“Who’s Gryffindor?” you squinted your eyes at him.

Ron attempted an exasperated face-palm with his left hand (he was still holding the tart in his right). Harry laughed at this, and proceeded to explain the four houses to you.

Gryffindor had been the house Ron’s and Harry’s families had gotten into. The house of the brave, it was known for. Ravenclaw, the house for smart people (you had a feeling you would not be getting into that); Hufflepuff was the house for the loyal and well-meaning. And finally, there was Slytherin. Both Ron and Harry detested the green-and-silver clad house, for it had been the group to pump out the most dark witches and wizards.

“Ah,” you said. “So naturally, we should hate that house, since that was the one Voldemort was – “

“Woah,” said Ron, looking impressed. “You just said his name.”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s just a name. Anyways, I’m guessing that you all want Gryffindor then?”

“Of course!” Ron puffed out his chest.

“Hey, did you – ?”

Unfortunately, whatever Harry had wanted to ask had been interrupted by the compartment door sliding open again.

This time, it was a group of three – the ringleader being a sallow-faced, gauntly blonde boy. The other two were giant-sized, goliath looking boys who looked like his bodyguards. And, of course, they were all fixated on you.

“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train that (Y/n) (L/N)’s in this compartment. So, it’s you, is it?”

“That’s right,” you smiled at him.

His lips twitched into a small smirk. He waved his hand carelessly at the two body-doubles next to him. “This is Crabbe and that’s Goyle. And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

Ron choked on his treacle tart, but you suspected that may have been him trying to disguise a sneer. Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Ron, causing your hackles to rise immediately.

“Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

Ron’s face went pink again and he sunk into his seat.

Draco Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry, but before he could say something about his family, you cut him off.

Draco Malfoy turned his sharpened gaze toward you. “And I’d be more careful if I was you. You don’t want to make enemies with the wrong people.”

“The same goes for you.”

You stared down Draco Malfoy. Harry was glancing back and forth between the two of you, and he looked ready to stand up if this altercation escalated.

“You don’t get to come in here and poke fun at us,” you muttered slowly. “Especially, if you want to end up on good terms with me.”

His cheeks tinged a faint pink. “Not like I would want to be friends with the likes of you.” He placed the emphasis on ‘you’ the same way you did.

You, Harry and Ron all stood up.

“I think it’d be best if you left.” you gritted out, disliking the boy less and less by every twitch of his rat-like face.

Unfortunately for you, Malfoy’s rattish face had broken out into a sneer. “You’ll regret making enemies out of me, (L/n). I promise you that much.”

He furiously spun around and out of the carriage, but not before he could shoot you a final scathing look. Crabbe and Goyle chased after him, robes billowing out from behind them.

“What a buffoon,” you huffed angrily.

“Agreed,” said Harry, still glaring at the door.

“I’ve heard of his family before,” said Ron darkly. “They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.”

“‘Specially if they thought it was the winning side,” added Harry.

The door opened before you could open your mouth. There was Hermit Yeti, yet again, standing at the entrance.

“What has been going on? Why did I just see three boys bolting out of this compartment?” She looked you up and down. “You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!”

“They were the ones starting it – not us!” defended Ron, scowling at her.

“All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” she said sniffly. “And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know that?”

“Thank you,” you interjected, glaring at her on behalf of Ron. “Could you leave now?”

And finally, Herm-onion left.

If you had to guess, it had been only an hour after that when the train had pulled to a stop. You had donned your robes, ensuring that they still had your signature wind-swept appearance about them. Ron and Harry were also wearing their robes now too. You stuffed your pockets with the remaining sweets as you left the train.

Hopping out of the train and onto the station, you were delighted to be met with the familiar, gentle face of Hagrid.

“Firs’-years! Firs-years over here! All right there, (Y/n)?” He beamed at you from under his scraggly beard.

You waved enthusiastically at him.

The first-years, it looked like, had their own means of reaching the school, which involved travelling in groups of four in a little boat across a lake. You, Harry, Ron and the bushy-haired girl (to your displeasure) took a boat close to the front.

Whilst you did not dislike the girl, you weren’t fond of her tendency to huff or be bossy, especially when she did it toward Ron (which you found she did often). Harry hadn’t done anything to get into her wrong books, and nor vice versa, so they were probably on the most amicable terms between you, him and Ron.

The boats glided in unison across the great body of water, before coming to a stop at the front of the school’s castle. You could hardly hear Toad-Boy’s reunion with his toad (“Trevor”) amongst the excited buzzing in your ears.

The gaggle of first-years came to a stop at the entrance of Hogwarts, a ginormous wooden castle door. Hagrid raised his fist and rapped three times on it.

The door opened immediately. There was a stern, grey-haired witch standing behind it. She was sifting through the crowd intensely, and her gaze did not linger on your scar like how most peoples’ did.

“The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”

The door was opened further and you streamed into the Entrance Hall. The entire school was huge, you realised, and was very elaborately decorated – like something you would read in a book. Flaming torches illuminated the corridor. The first-years were pulled into a little room, next to a place where you could hear the rest of the school talking.

It was then you noticed that Ron appeared quite pale under his freckles and that Harry was fiddling with his fingers. In fact, every first-year seemed to be exhibiting some sort of nervous tick, apart from Malfoy, who was rolling his eyes for some reason.

You drew your eyebrows together in confusion. Should you have been scared too? It wasn’t like they were going to force you to fight each other or anything right? At least, that’s what you hoped. Although, you definitely knew that if they made you fight, you’d win.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and speed free time in your house common room.

She continued giving a debrief of the houses, but as it was something you had already heard from Harry and Ron, it wasn’t anything new. You fidgeted restlessly, wanting to get onto the Sorting already.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” Her eyes lingered on your messy hair and ruffled collar, where one lapel was sticking up.

Once she left, you turned to Harry and Ron. “What do they do to get us into these houses? Is it like a test? Based on how you answer, that’s where you get in? Like, ‘what is the square root of sixteen?’”

“That’s probably only good for finding Ravenclaws and non-Ravenclaws though,” said Ron, taking you seriously. “My brothers said it was a test too, though. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

Harry was looking more unsettled by the minute.

“Hey,” you said, patting his shoulder. “Don’t be nervous. I’m sure Ron’s brothers are just messing with us.”

“Me too,” nodded Ron.

“But,” Harry’s green eyes met yours anxiously. “A test? In front of the whole school? I barely know two spells, how will they sort me with that? What if they send me home? What if –”

“Listen,” you said. “That’s already two more spells than I know, and probably most of the first-years too. That Malfoy included.”

You narrowed your eyes at said boy, before returning them to Harry. “Don’t worry, alright? I’m sure we'll all do great.”

Beside you, Ron nodded appreciatively (although it looked like his skin was beginning to reach a sickly pale green colour).

“You’re right,” said Harry, and you were pleased to see that he was a fraction less scared than he was a moment ago.

You didn’t bother with ‘smartening yourself up.’ You were already pretty smart enough, in your opinion. Having bested the darkest wizard of the age at a meagre one year old didn’t come to just anyone, you know?

After a whole debacle with some ghosts flying in to greet you before the ceremony, Professor McGonagall entered the room once more. You all trudged in a single-file line into the Great Hall.

You gaped openly at the Great Hall, which looked even bigger than the Entrance. Four long tables were lain across the room, with golden plates and goblets sitting on each. The students were segregated by houses, indicated by the colour of their robes and ties. There were also several candles floating in the air, which was pretty sweet too. Oh, and the roof looked like the sky as well.

Professor McGongagall placed a three-legged stool in front of school, and then she placed a rusty-looking hat on top of it. You deadpanned when it broke into song, and even more when everyone burst into applause once it finished.

“So, we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron whisper-yelled to you and Harry. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll!”

Harry gave him a nervous smile, and you said “I told you it wouldn’t have been that bad. Probably.”

Professor McGonagall approached the stool, unravelling a long roll of parchment paper. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

Hannah stumbled from the crowd of first-years and toward her. If you squinted, she looked a little like Odette, with yellower hair. She placed the hat on her head and after a moment of silence, the hat shouted out “HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table on the right, with the yellow-and-black clad students cheered and hollered as Hannah went to join them.

‘Bones, Susan’ went up next and she too went to Hufflepuff. ‘Boot, Terry’ went to Ravenclaw, and ‘Brown Lavender’ became the first new Gryffindor. The cheering from the red table was definitely the loudest, especially when right after ‘Bulstrode Millicent’ was sorted in Slytherin and all she got was only a polite and semi-silent applause from her new house.

A few more people went, and then, so did ‘Granger, Hermione’ (so that was her name) who sat on the stool for a precariously long period of time before being sent to Gryffindor. Ron groaned. Toad-Boy (Longbottom, Neville) got Gryffindor too, but he was on the stool for longer than Hermione. A few more people went after them.

You were raising your hand to scratch your ear when your name was called.

As you stepped forward, the students in the Hall whispered loudly, just as they had done at the station.

“(L/n), did she say?”

“The (Y/n) (L/n)?”

Those comments did not help the rising ego blooming inside of you. You swaggered over the stool and sat down. Your fingers delicately gripped the brim of the hat. The fabric felt ragged and old underneath your fingertips. You brought the Sorting Hat down toward your –

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat had barely scraped the fly-away hairs on your head when it had shrieked out the name of your house.

The Great Hall was silent for a few, stunned moments, taken aback by your instantaneous sorting (which you guessed was not a frequent occurrence). You stared back at them with wide eyes, darting downwards to look at Harry and Ron. They were wide-eyed too, before Harry broke the silence and beamed a gigantic smile at you, and the Gryffindor table erupted into cheers – louder cheers than for any of the people before you.

You felt a warm glow in your chest. You looked around the table, and saw many friendly faces. Percy the Prefect had dived over the table (almost) to shake your hand vigorously and you could hear the Weasley twins jeering and yelling out “We got (L/n)! We got (L/n)!” Even a ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, was congratulating you by patting your arm, which felt like you were being doused in a cold bucket of water.

At the High Table, Hagrid was grinning and gave you the thumbs up. Dumbledore, you recognised him from the chocolate frog card, was up there too with a faint twinkle in his eye.

The only notable people left up, really, were Harry and Ron.

Harry had been called first.

The Sorting Hat was sat upon his head for what seemed to be the better portion of an eternity. For the first time since your arrival, you felt a jolt of fear. What if you and your friends would be separated into different houses? You didn’t to be stuck in a full with only Neville and Hermione, everyday you would wake up to find Neville’s slimy toad on your pillowcase or –

You felt a surge of joy and relief, as after a minute or two, the hat declared “GRYFFINDOR!” and the Great Hall erupted in cheers for Harry. You clapped your hands and smiled widely, looking for him among the sea of red and gold.

He took a seat beside you and you high-fived him.

“Nice to see you here, Potter, Harry,” you said, changing your voice to mimic McGonagall’s.

“Nice to see you too, the (Y/n) (L/n),” he snickered, mocking the way the students had reacted when they’d heard your name.

You grinned at him, shoving his shoulder.

Ron joined you rather quickly, even though he was one of the last people to get sorted. You were delighted at this, as it meant you could still be with them for the rest of your Hogwarts years, according to what Professor McGonagall had said.

Dumbledore rose to his feet, “Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

He sat down, and as he did, food magically appeared in front of you.

“Is he – a bit mad?” Harry asked you uncertainly.

“Probably,” you said, shrugging, reaching for the roast potatoes.

You scarfed down your food, listening to the conservation around you. You cheered when the dessert had come, causing the people around you to chuckle, quietly – except for Ron, who had gotten to the apple pie before you could.

You wrestled Ron for a slice of said pie, and were happily munching on it when you glanced back up to the High Table. Hagrid was drinking from his goblet, and Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were in a deep discussion with each other. Another Professor, in a purple turban, was fiddling nervously with his cutlery, tapping his fork against the edge of the table. He was speaking with a professor with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin.

The teacher, as though he could sense your presence, glanced straight past the Turban-Professor and bore his black eyes into yours – a sharp, hot pain seared within your scar, and you let out a hiss of pain.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked you, foreheading furrowing in concern.

“N-nothing.” The pain had left as quickly as it had come. How strange. You got the feeling that the hooked-nose teacher did not like you very much.

“Who's that teacher, the greasy-haired one?” you pointed at him, not discretely.

Harry stifled a laugh. “That’s Snape. No one likes him, they say he wants to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but every year he gets stuck as the Potions one instead. My dad doesn’t like him at all – actually, my entire family doesn’t really too.”

“Why’s that?” you questioned.

“Not sure,” said Harry, but he scratched his cheek nervously. “They won’t tell me.”

Deciding not to press him further, you continued to watch Snape a little longer. He never looked at you again, though, after that.

Once the desserts had all faded away, Dumbledore had announced his final speech and conducted a very tragic school school orchestra. He wiped his eyes when he had finished. “Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

Powering your legs through the sheer force of the food you’d guzzled down, you followed Percy up to the Gryffindor Tower. With horror, you realised that you’d have to climb an average of seven staircases everyday, simply just to get to your bed.

Anyways, the entrance to the Gryffindor headquarters was through a painting of a Fat Lady and she flipped open when you told her the password, Caput Draconis. You scrambled through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room.

You lazily trudged up the stairs, and without even bothering to notice that your trunk had been transported up to your dorm room, you face-planted onto your bed and fell into a heavy sleep.

Perhaps you had eaten a bit too much, because that night, you had a very strange dream.

You were staring into a mirror, desperately trying to tug off a purple turban from your head. When did you get a turban? How did you get a turban? The fabric of the turban grew tighter, making you feel a sharp pain in your skull as the turban squeezed your head like a vice. You wondered how you got into this mess in the first place.

Furiously pulling, pulling, at the turban finally caused it to unravel and expose your hair. With a start, as you glanced back to the mirror, you discerned that your face had, horrifyingly enough, taken on the face of Snape. His own black, empty eyes stared back at you.

You scrambled back, leaping away from his cockroach-like eyes, only to find that, for some reason, there was a bottomless abyss behind you. You fell down, down, down into a pit. Closing your eyes as your head thrummed painfully, you braced yourself for the impact.

A bright flash of green light, and a high, cruel laugh jerked you awake.

Oddly enough, however, when you’d gone back to sleep, you hadn’t remembered the dream at all. You did question, however, the next morning why when you closed your eyes, all you saw was a luminous, green light in the shape of a lightning-bolt scar.

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

→ Author's Note: Hello my lovelies, welcome to ch 1.2 yippee!! Sorry that its super long but we’re pretty already halfway through the ch 1 portion of the series XD — I’m guessing now that it's gonna reach about 1.4 or 1.5 but I could also be widely incorrect :P Anyways that’s all so catch ya next time :))) thank you

Time for this chapters analysis ~ You will have probs noticed one of the most canon-divergent parts of this series so far is that instead of the same dilemma Harry faced when he was getting sorted (Slytherin vs Gryffindor), as soon as the hat touched the little hairs upon your head, you were sorted into Gryffindor. During this chapter, and a little of the last one (but mostly this one), I've kinda been subtly trying to hint that the Reader is really quite arrogant and brazen. Rather than Harry as the chosen one, where he longs for a quiet and normal life, Reader dives headfirst into her role. She shamelessly self-promotes her lightning-scar and doesn’t try to hide it – she knows she’s special and she feeds into that!! She’s kinda like James Potter in that regard >.< and therefore I want her to kind of be epitome of a Gryffindor (courageous and arrogant) and maybe, maybe not, a parallel to Draco Malfoy (who also got sorted into Slytherin ASAP, and is ambitious and arrogant) hehe → that’s also why Reader and Malfoy get more aggressive even more quickly than Harry did in canon… Anyways!!! This is the briefest hint at what I have in store for this series, and we’ll see how Reader’s arrogance courageousness deviates Harry Potter from canon. Tbh I’m planning to make the reader Percy Jackson-coded (with the sass and reckless bravery and loyalty and what not) and maybe just the slightest bit Gojo-coded hehe, I know that it's not that clear rn lol but I’ll work my way into it hopefully… Anyways, thanks again! :D Series Masterlist

Taglist (thanks for asking!): @kaverichauhan

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angoryt · 9 months

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Meet the rouge cryptek gang

They all said fuck society and went of to make there own in another galaxy far far away. If they’ll been successful can be debated, but nether the less there still kicking.

The four members of the family were going about their makeshift routine wen Hefro picked up a somewhat distorted radio signal, sent by a necron from a chip that did clearly not luck like a necron ship.

Hefro: Radio specialist and head of security. She is the one supplying the gang with sharp tools and weaponry for self protection. But wen she’s not doing that Hefro is either studying poetry ( sometimes even writing it )and ore making music, as she got an somewhat uncanny understanding and liking of rhythm.

Leptwe : A technomanser specializing in necron body modification. They are quite a jumpy person that likes to switch between different projects there working on simultaneously. They also have a huge interest in folklore and mythical beasts. As of fact Leptwe’s current from was heavily inspired by a cryptid they took a liking to.

Kitro: A biomancer and a botany mancer, two fields you can probably guess wouldn’t be the most appreciated in necron society. He is a charismatic little bundle of joy and has an somewhat unusual need for physical contact with people. Something he’s thankfully not been hindered from getting.

Nipp: A nifty little ( hamburger shaped ) scarab. Given their current name by a habit of nipping anyone they or the gang do not approve of.

Cage: A tall looming figure ho will stare at you and repeat voices of the long gone past. The hunting voice. Okay in all seriousness ( despite their habit of hanging in the corner) they are a quite polite fellow, who is just happy to be included. They regularly accompany the gang on their small little adventures, and likes to help out we’re ever they might be needed . They sometimes imitate small sounds with their voice, but they have never spoken with a voice one could call their own. Instead they prefer communicating more complex subjects via singe.

#I have already posted about cage a long time ago #so if you’re interested in seeing the original post with them #just click the tag #Cage #necron #necrons #warhammer 40k #Hefro #Kitro #Kath #Nipp #ocs

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ecoamerica · 25 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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a-fantastic-time · 1 month

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It's been a couple days since Velvette moved into the hotel. The short stacked fat ass overlord didn't really participate with any of the redemption activities unless she was there to mock them or are they involved drinking or a snack.

"Oy fuck the bloody hell off Vox I'll stay here as long as I want if you have a problem with it why don't you find a radio and stick your dick in it we all know that's what you really want!"she was yelling on the phone to her fellow overlord before hanging up turning around to see who was listening on her conversation.

The common room was not exactly filled, but the ones usually around to hang out were Nifty, Charlie and Vaggie, and Husker. All of which immediately flinched and tried to look away from the overlord when she lashed out a them. All except Vaggie, who just shot her a dirty look from across the room. She never fully trusted any of the Vs, and especially one who would always flirt with her girlfriend every chance she got.

Charlie sweating some as she kept their little fling hidden from her as long as she has been here. But thankfully no one seemed to notice the awkwardness, as everyone seemed to just chalk it up to the looming presence that Velvette had.

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inyujidraws · 3 months

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If my OC Creon Gilead were in the Helluva-verse. Blame Hazbin Hotel for this. Did 2 versions; one where she falls from heaven, and starting off as a sinner.

For context, the Earth has made radical leaps in technology up to 2080-ish, which led to the rise of meta-humans (bio-engineered mutants) and bio-terrorist sects.

Creon has committed a lot of horrible war crimes due to her time in the army and hired mercenary. But she strived to live as a better person after ending her service. Unfortunately the U.S. government blackmailed her into serving again to fight against another potential bio-terror sect. She died in the line of duty again, leaving behind a grieving community and friends. Not sure if this time she was briefly married or didn't meet a special someone.

Since she died as a fully-evolved mutant, she'll start off abnormally strong (not overlord level). This takes place during the so called 7-year absence of Lilith and the Radio Demon.

Fallen Angel

If she started off as a fallen angel, she'd definitely be picked up by Lucifer. He probably felt the disturbance of lots of exorcists being slaughtered, which is a first.

Most of the time Creon is making sure to bring him meals and reminding him to rest. At one point she gets stressed and extremely paranoid at Lucifer's spiraling mental state that she resorts to calling Charlie. Reconciliation takes place much faster, and Creon ends up splitting time helping at the hotel, and dragging Lucifer to said-hotel to spend time with his daughter.

Radio Demon's Assistant

If she started as a sinner in Hell (she figured that's where she'd go if Hell existed), she originally roughed it out near the edges of the city while killing and eating stray exorcists via ambush tactics. Eventually gave up on cave-dwelling and found low-entry job at Vox-tech. Eventually worked her way up due to taking initiative and Vox really valued how her work-ethic, adaptability, and genuine attitude.

It didn't take too long for Creon to be trusted with leading projects that had some success, and her influence to grow. Vox and Velvette were on board to make her a fellow Vee. Creon rejected the offer, but Vox didn't take that rejection well. Creon barely escaped Vox's brainwashing after injuring him and getting her wings. Creon was injured, mentally struggling, and bombarded from extreme visual and audio stimuli from all of the screens that surrounded the Vees territory.

Alastor found her and took her away so she could heal in peace. Alastor was able to persuade Creon into making a deal with him for her protection. It was icing on the top since he literally stole Vox's brand new "star." Alastor has found a new and exciting puzzle to solve and he relishes in poking and prodding his latest prey. Extra bonus since Creon's is a good chef and he gets to rub it in Vox's pathetic face.

Alastor likes to send Creon to go and kill whatever unlucky demon that pissed him off. All for the pure sadistic pleasure of chipping away at her humanity and morals. Thankfully she's really good friends with Husk. Nifty...she appreciates the little gremlin maid. Creon is always having to put up with Alastor's malicious pranks, chaotic antics, and mundane tasks. The one bright side is that Alastor has a co-star for his broadcasts. She'll join the Hazbin Hotel as the chef and give Charlie and Vaggie much needed advice with rehabilitating addicts.

#creon gilead #sketches #original character #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #angels and demons #radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #bats

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straying-further-from-gods-grace · 2 months

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Human AU! Picrew

Alastor! He's a serial killer and cannibal in every AU I make unless otherwise stated. Some AU will include Al being trans, having epilepsy, or severe scarring and sometimes migraines. Eating disorder in the fact he mainly eats humans and starves a lot of the time

Nifty in every AU will be Alastors little sister, be it through found family or actual adoption. She is also a cannibal and a nurse unless otherwise stated. Every AU she lost her eye while being sex trafficked.

Rosie and Husk are Always going to be Exes, be it married or dating, but exes. Rosie is a cannibal, Husk isn't he just helps his family hide evidence. In certain AU they're Nifty and or Al's adoptive parents/found family parent's in others they are just older friends who are protective and the mom/dad friend. Rosie is a psychologist and Husk a bartender, most AU they're gonna be ex military

Angel Dust (Anthony) Husks twink boyfriend he gets after divorcing or breaking up with Rosie. Still a hooker but he and Val have a healthy relationship. Unless I need Val to be nasty for my plot. Ex addict, makes music sometimes, recovering eating disorder

The Vees! Vox with his heterochromia and I like making him sweaty either an actual problem or he's just sweaty. I also like to give him a stutter in certain AUs. He's German.

Valentino is as always, half blind, and he's a nasty weird tall man with a connective tissue disorder in most AU, he's also Latin and a pretty good friend he's very supportive just bad at it.

Velvet is a weird little chaotic rat but her boys worship her. For some reason I see her as a Floridian military brat idk, fashion designer and influencer in every AU. I ship her with Rosie.

In some AU they're adoptive siblings

Charlie and Vaggie! Twinning UwU! Vaggie is an ex Catholic cause I think it makes sense and Charlie definitely practices Wicca or something. Charlie actually does own a hotel, it's a rehab her father funded for her because she wants to help nd she has whateva sort of degree would help with that, something with therapy. Vaggie works as a security guard there.

Vaggie twin sister Lute, she's having a near constant mental breakdown, she's a psycho deep down and is FILLED with religious guilt idk what to tell ya. Killed someone. Her arm is amputated too. She teaches self defense, specialising in helping people with disabilities learn to work around them.

Charlie cousin Peter. Everyone think he's the "gay" cousin but he's actually straight and VERY comfy in his masculinity, nondenominational. Isn't technically allowed to visit the Morningstar house alone because they're "evil" but they're just spiritual. Broadway!!

Lute boyfriend, Adam. I could NOT resist making him adorable and precious because you see him and go awww but then he fucking opens his mouth and calls you a slur. Lmao. Questioning his faith. Rock star wanna be, studies music theory or something

Adams cousins! Big sis Sera is constantly worrying and lil sis Emily is heavily sheltered. Sera is a Sunday School teacher, idk, maybe religious studies? Emily if the AU has her college aged will want to be a nurse (I've been seeing Emily ships everywhere but what if she falls for her fellow nurse who's secretly a psychopath?? Nifty, I mean)

Cherri! Angels BFF! She's deffo an artist and also a demolition expert or something, and does monster trucking too! She's the best most supportive person, Penti adores her and she's secretly in love too but she's scared of it. Angel keeps mocking her that he's got two guys (Val and Husk) and she won't even take a chance on the dude who would find a way to blow up the sun for her.

Penti is trans, hjs family is also Muslim but he was disowned when he came out. He has triplet little siblings! Is studying to be or is a physicist. Idk minor speech impediment/lisp!

Frank is the embodiment of chaos and when he meets Alastor is obsessed with him (crushing on a guy your older brother doesn't like is a right if passage) Chandler and Leslie are his siblings. They we're disowned for supporting Penti and Chandler has refused to wear her veil since. Leslie still upholds their faith but is very supportive.

Usually Vark will be a dog. But occasionally an AU will call for him to be Vox little brother so here's a design for him!

#ao3 link #human au #Hazbin hotel #Picrew #radio static #vox x alastor

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writeyouin · 2 months

Text

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X GN-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Stories and Dolls

A/N – Okay, so I just quit my job and I’m freefalling right now. Time to channel my anxiety into fanfiction. Also, this chapter is darker so I’m raising the rating to M.

Warnings – MENTIONS OF RAPE, S/A, ABUSE, KIDNAPPING, AND TORTURE.

Rating – M

FEMALE VERSION HERE

MALE VERSION HERE

TAG-LIST: @x-uno @froggybich @bubbleboy132

Yet, despite his newfound almost-friendship with you, he couldn’t help thinking about what you had said on your first night in the manor.

‘You don’t even know why I’m down here, and you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same.’

The thought made him deeply uncomfortable.

Okay. He would ask you about it. No big deal. People probably talked about why they went to Hell a lot right? That was a normal conversation for Sinners, probably…

Right. When Lucifer next saw you, he would ask.

“Hey Lucifer,” You said upon returning to the manor from the Hotel, “You doing okay?”

Lucifer froze. He hadn’t expected to see you so soon. Fuck.

“Hey bitch,” Lucifer greeted, feeling entirely awkward, yet trying to feign confidence.

“Uh… Back at ya,” You reciprocated confusedly.

“Sooooo,” Lucifer started, steepling his fingers together, and holding them to his mouth, his brow knitting together worriedly, “I have a question for you.”

You waved your hand casually, indicating that he was free to ask away.

“How- Uh how was everything at the Hotel? Is my little girl doing okay?”

Finally, you wrapped up the conversation, effectively ending it when you casually said, “Anyway, I’m going to get ready for bed. I’m real tired, you know?”

You turned and smiled at him, your smile putting him at ease.

“Come in,” You offered.

Subconsciously, Lucifer worked his magic to remove the off-smell that he had placed there; it was redundant when your candles covered it, and he didn’t mind your company so much anymore.

He decided not to mention it as he joined you on the balcony, looking you over in your pyjamas.

“Hell’s skies are beautiful, aren’t they,” You stated, returning your gaze to the horizon.

Lucifer looked up, but all he saw was Heaven, the home that didn’t want him.

“(Y/N),” He started, forcing himself to look down, so he wouldn’t have to stare at the painfully beautiful golden glow above.

“Hm?”

“How did you end up here?”

Your grip tightened on the railing drawing Lucifer’s gaze to the whites of your knuckles.

Your whole body became tense and you answered with a ragged breath, “I died.”

“Yes but-” Lucifer was about to lead into the question of your sins, but you spoke up again, seemingly misunderstanding the question as you continued, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

“I was- I was murdered.”

He remained silent as you began recounting the manner in which you had been killed.

You subconsciously touched the back of your head, remembering the blow that had come with no warning.

Lucifer turned to you, one hand holding onto the railing, the other planted firmly at his side.

“Did he-” He started to ask.

You shook your head. “It wasn’t rape. It was worse.”

You shivered, waiting until you were certain you weren’t going to vomit. Then you continued, your skin ashy.

“I woke up in a- It was like a cinderblock cell, but it had been sort of decorated to look like a fancy suite?”

“I- I was tied up,” You said simply, downplaying the memory to Lucifer, more for your own sake than his, though he could see the pain behind your eyes.

You sighed, thinking of the torture, humiliation, and suffering which followed, all at the hands of one man. It wasn’t your captor. It was who he had sold you to.

You were a ragdoll.

You didn’t turn to face your King, who was now in his full Demonic form, his rage at its peak.

“But-” Lucifer reached you to put a hand on your shoulder, his wings almost curling around you as if to envelop you.

“I- I would like to be alone. Please.”

Lucifer hesitantly withdrew his hand, “I’m sorry.”

That was all he said before walking away, leaving you alone.

You wished that you could have been left to wallow, but your phone soon buzzed and you opted to check it in case it was an emergency.

Retrieving it from the bed, you found a message from Charlie.

“EMERGENCY. ANGEL DUST. RELAPSE. GET OVER HERE. PLEASE!”

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