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Fandom Hazbin Hat (1 x 1 - CLOSED)

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Lord Black Hat


The malevolence of shadows stands in the corner observing the calamity, his half-lidded smile slowly curling into an expression of displeased disdain. He heard that correctly, right? Flug, his scientist, the very being who's soul he had claim over proposed the idea of overthrowing his dark and powerful constrictive grasp? Flug had better pray to the whoever he worshiped this was a lie. And-an angel? He admitted, the brazen of capturing an angelic being was one to be admired but what was to be noted is NO ONE do anything without his permission. ESPECIALLY Flug .

The tapping of tappers' dress shoes rings softly from the corner as Black Hat emerges from his hidden corner of the dimensions of their current room of which they resided in, his monocle adjusting by his index claw and thumb with the slighted sheen of oil-blacked gums protruding from his top lip which was curled prominently into a snarl.
"Repeat that for me, would you, you little Muskrat?' The dark lord growls, his voice gurgled and in a growl. His gaze was right on Flug as he spoke, eyes narrowed.




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The Radio Demon


Stag-ears twitched and rotated subconsciously at the mention of the classic. A satisfied hum left his lips, watching the numbers counting up with stale patience. Smart of them to consider their surroundings as a means to wriggle their way out. But the Radio Demon has lived far too many years to even entertain the attempt.

Still, he couldn’t resist a good conversation on the theatres. It brought him back to his years when he was alive and bouncing, appreciating the arts that vibed as often as the flickering lights that illuminated the towns. Little Shop of Horrors happened to be a favorite of his, watching people thrash and panic on account of their own misdoings.

“Yes, well, I suppose that one was alright,” he lied. “Though, a must try has to be Annie.” Sharp pupils shot in their direction. “Assuming you ever live long enough to witness it in person.” That was the end of that conversation, the Writer doing their utmost best to continue with their little fascade of fascination.

It both pleased and irritated Alastor. He had to commend them for keeping within the lines of their act, even knowing one of the best all-time classics to save their skin. But this was far too obvious to even consider their attempts genuine.

The Author agreed to his terms, quickly realizing their impending demise.

What he wouldn’t give to just broadcast everything then and there.

But then there wouldn’t be anymore stories.

Alastor internally shook his head. That wasn’t the point. The point was sexual material was STRICTLY forbidden as of his recent decree. While he still has … kinks… to work out with Lucifer and his wife, that wouldn’t be a long ways away until they returned from their vacation.

He would have to deal with this one a bit differently. Alastor scanned the writer with cautious eyes, resisting little to none a smirk at the smaller figure’s squeals of fear.

This was fun. They played along nicely. They’ll even do as he says. He’s always wanted a little servant.

The way they called him ‘sir’ ruffled arm hairs beneath his long coat.

Maybe he could work with this.

The author’s tail served as a third hand, wavering over their eyebrows. They were at full attention upon his very command. “Good, smart demon.” Another ding, indicating the final stop commanded the doors open into a vast private floor. Alastor placed slendered hand to the small of their back to nudge them along.

He was going to have a blast with this.




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The Demons and the Scientist


Something moved to Flug’s right. Was it a summoned minion? Could this little brat do that? In any case, he wasn’t prepared to take any chances, ESPECIALLY not with the room in its current case. Besides, what’s the worse that could happen at this point? It was probably Demencia running about, preparing the jump the newcomer’s head like any other person who’s stepped through the Manor’s doors.


Heaving another breath, the lanky scientist shot his net gun at the moving target to reveal barely missing the shadow demon himself in ABSOLUTE contempt.


Shit.


Black Hat’s foot tap echoed his growing annoyance. First the conversation this morning, then this little shit and now, if he didn’t know better, he probably could have overheard about the angel left in the manor. Damn good thing she was sedated at the moment. The scientist’s eyes darted toward the child who was now looking up at the dark lord with what seemed to be a mix of awe, determination and even a slight of sadism.


“Tha’ aura o’yers,” Ruufls smirk widened, a glint in his eye differing no more than if he had just wriggled his way out of a spanking, “Yew must be Lord Black Hat, innit?” He nodded his head in Flug’s direction. “Baggie here’s been tellin’ me ‘e can take yer sorry lug on if ‘e wanted to!~ Even snuck in an angel ta counter yew.”


“L...Lord Black Hat, sir…! I understand ho...how this looks a..and” Flug’s gaze averted the demon’s, using all of his attention to swallow a building lump. “It isn’t true..! I never said that, he’s making stories up so he can take you down himself..!”


“Yew fink I’d be makin’ stories willy-nilly in a DEMON’s ‘ousehold? Must be a daft looney inside, too, lad.” Ruufl snickered. “Wouldn’t benefit from lyin’ to a smart man aftah bein’ locked, threatened to be fused wif an angel fer yer own gain. Sickenin’.”


“Shut up, shut up…..” Flug choked. He leaned backwards, his feet clumsily following suit to maybe escape the full wrath of his boss. “Sir, I admit, SOME of this might have been my fault but I would n...never do it to harm the organization at all!”




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The Writer



They see him muse about the musical with the little orphan girl and when they hear Annie they seemed to be..crestfallen or perturbed, not as if annoyed but as if, a rather painful memory resurfaced somewhere to the most prominent recesses of their memory. Their arm grasping the opposite one slightly, tail curled close to their body slightly.

"No one cares for you one bit, when you're a foster kid,' They sang sullen, whispered and softly, their tail swishing gently with the tip tracing about on the floor, before laughing sheepishly and smiling, attempting to mask their former demeanor.

Their expression as demure and pained as it was, was just as quickly snapped to change to a soft but-false smile. It was clear something was on their mind about that specific piece of entertainment, though they also tried to conceal any personal emotions behind it. Then again they seemed-regrettably shameful at hiding their emotions, unlike the constantly grinning demon, it made them wonder if his face ever hurt, the thought to ask if it did crossed their mind but was quickly swiped with the immediate recollection of their circumstances.

Instead, they looked up at him and tilted their head. "May I ask why you want to know the name of the author? I uh-I know who it is but I'm curious if they have any transgressions with you or something,' They say, once again their eye contact breaking to try and avoid it if at all possible, intimidated by his fiery gaze.

Their tie noticed the pained expression and withheld an internal sigh of regret, they wore their heart on their sleeve too much and were not the best and hiding their weaknesses, It's no wonder they haven't been emotionally eaten alive by the other Dennisons.





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Lord Black Hat



He glanced lazily to the laser, position and demeanor unflinching with how bad Flug's aim usually was, he knew by now he would missfire. Yup, as predicted a miscalculation, spared by three centimeters where the expulsion of light and energy collided with steel and concrete leaving a charred burn of his mistake.

His attention was momentarily and reluctantly turned towards the invasive species standing within the distance between him and his contract, eyes still fixed squarely on the paper-bag ridden man before him. His claw rested under his chin, the others tapping on his hip in fervent impatience, a single brow raised to look down at the...child? He had an aura about him that contradicted the notion of a human child, that aspect was certain.

'While I believe Flug to be of impertinence and an annoying pain in my side, I don't think I believe your claims as of yet. I would like you to take me to this angel you speak of..and Flug, for your sake this had better be a lie,' His bottom lip carefully alluded to an oozing green drip, his black, snake like tongue curiously licking the top row of his mouth and one hand was gripped firmly onto Flugs's arm with the promises of no escape, and if attempt is made there will be consequences, as if illustrated by the opposite hand's shaking fist.

Dementia even went quiet, angels and things of that nature were no laughing matter within this manner. Her usually pointed, fangy grin was now zipped terse with fear and anticipation.



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The Radio Demon


“It’s a hard knock life, for us. It’s a hard knock life, for US.” Alastor added on, noting the despondence of the author. A cackle emitted itself between large parted teeth, a content sigh replacing the rest of the verse. “I must admit, darling, you’re putting on QUITE a show for someone who is aware of their own demise.”


He stepped ahead of them, his back facing the doors that led into his personal chambers. Crouching halfway, a gloved hand curled beneath their chin. “Smile doll, you’re never fully dressed. This will be quick — for me. Ahahah~” Alastor pivoted, his arms spread to the magically opening doors.


Inside was a tidy piece of property, a total of two floors immediately visible. The top floor was an open space with a bed, wardrobe, a microphone stand and a desk. The rest was blocked off for privacy purposes. On the main floor was a kitchen to the immediate right, freshly smelling of blood oranges. Straight ahead was a living space where the Radio Demon was making his way toward, an air about him obliging the Author to follow. “Come in, have a seat, then we’ll begin!~ Depending on how well you cooperate, I’ll consider shaving some minutes off.” The stag paused, turning his head so both his blood-red pupils and sclera were directed at them, his jaw dropping into an impishly amused grin.


The question of his purpose of meeting with the other drew into one ear and out the other, enticing the radio demon to turn back to his initial destination by the couches. Typically he’d comment about how naive they were behaving but the wistful scent briefly caught his attention.


They must be new. Interesting.


“You see my dear,” he finally began after 45 seconds of lowering himself onto the couch, “There’s a very strict ban in Hell that recently was placed. Would you like to take a guess what that ban is on? I’ll give you a guess…~” He placed the book onto the coffee table, eyes locked onto them once more.


They were avoiding a gaze with him, yet they spoke with such feverence. Were they planning a confession? So soon?


A shame. He hadn’t gotten the opportunity to reveal his toys of truth and they were about to resolve the issue on their own.



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The Demons and the Scientist


“T..thank you sir,” Flug released a long due breath of relief. He trusted him, somewhat, in this case. The evil lord snapped his attention immediately back to the scientist, promising him that the talks of angels better be a lie.


He couldn’t blame him. Bringing an angel into a demon’s house hold was about as good of an idea as introducing a cat into a dog household. It just didn’t work.


Flug yelped at the sudden grasp, not being enough time for his usual cowardice at his boss’s reaction of displeasure. He took note of the shaking fist in the opposite hand and immediately calmed himself. He wanted to come out with it but seeing how there were not one but TWO demons on the verge of imploding, the scientist figured now wasn’t the time.


Ruufls eyes bounced from Black Hat to Flug to Dementia, then back to the owner of the manor. His grin reemerged. “Good plan, lad. Raight this way~” Making his way to the doors melted more than half-way into one another, he climbed over the top of the structure and to Flug’s laboratory where they were met with a keypad. “Baggie, mind me wut tha’ pass is?”


“Like hell I’m—” the grip on Flug’s arm quickly shifted his tone. Two minutes and he could have sworn he was losing feeling in the part that Black Hat held onto. His eyes casted. “Password’s Airplane Master 101.”


Snickering, the other demon punched in the words, the doors opening to nothing but sheer liquified blackness. For some with superb sight, there were specks and swirls encompassing the vacant space, the only thing surviving was a single pathway just before them with an isolated pillar. The said pillar was an island of itself, entirely composed of a cage fit for a human-sized bird. Within, a female with wide spread wings of snow were stretched out, bruises on her shoulders indicating repeated attempts of breaking out. Her wings fluttered just a fair 6 feet off the ground, hair trailing behind.

“Someone? Anyone! Get me out, please…!” Her head turned in the direction of the three, squinting in the darkness.




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The Writer



Ace's gaze wanders around the room, their tie taking note of the area as well with it's ivory gaze following the red figure before him, but continues to choose to stay silent. He's no one new to Hell, unlike them, and is far more aware of their circumstances and what awaits should The Radio Demon be disturbed in any manner. The smaller demonic entity hears the words 'Shave a few minutes off' and tilts their head, looking about as their eyes wander, tail flicking gently back and forth behind their back, much akin to that of a curious little feline. Upon entrance the waft of blood oranges makes it's way to their nose, causing a cooed, squeaky strange purr noise to emit from their chest and throat.

'What do you mean? Shave a few minutes-' Their gaze catches sight of the parchment, paper clad item before them on the table, head tilted slightly in confusion. The tie's slitted pupil turned wide, attentive and aware, oh he knew damn well what he meant but the question wasn't for him to answer. He gives almost a pleading stare up at the person harnessing his being wrapped firmly around their neck, said person putting their index finger to their bottom lip, the tip curled slightly in thought as their tail tip pokes the book slightly.

"Uh...d-did the ban reading?' They look genuinely confused and oblivious, looking up at the broadcaster as the tie knew the answer was wrong and all appendages of claws are retracted, eye shut tight.





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The Radio Demon


“Why, shave a few minutes of your time here in Hell, of course! Perhaps make you a guest on my radio show!~” Slender arms and legs stretched briefly, red pantaloons swapping positions with one another in a cross. Brows raised at the other’s question, his grin raised wider at her obliviousness. Was that … a purr? This demon absolutely had no chance in Hell.


Either they were joking or they had absolutely no clue what the demon was talking about.


Considering they knew very well who he was and the topic choice to converse, he presumed the former. “Nononono, not reading. As a matter of fact, I’d encourage some demons here to pick up a book or two!~ It could possibly keep them out of trouble for a change!” The face of a certain spider worker crossed his mind before shaking off the image.


“Try again!” As he spoke, the Radio Demon flipped through the pages, stopping at page marked with a bookmark made of animal and demon skin. Raising the page upto the author’s attention was one of the most risque scenes in the harlequin novel, his lip curling back further over his teeth. They didn’t get it. They weren’t GOING to get.


Looming over them was a clock set to 60 seconds. When they gave the incorrect answer, the clock dropped 15 seconds from the given time. He didn’t feel the need to explain the timer if they weren’t going to get it after all. This made things … fair for when he began part two of the interaction. In all honesty, he was incredibly tempted to drop another 45 seconds and get right to the show.




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Lord Black Hat



As they arrive to the door, his grip tightened on the scientists' arm when attempting to resist compliance with the password, and rolled his eyes when he heard the ridiculous phrase chosen, a sighed gurgle sound sitting at the tip of his tongue while he waited-and when he gazed inside what did he behold. His head snapped immediately to the good scientist, his grip tightening further on his arm, only for the position to change from holding his arm hostage in a grip to that of a boa constrictor to holding his head in the direction of the cage with the angel inside, growling and a mist creeping from behind his bared fangs, claws tearing and ripping into the bag, causing an audible, deafening rippppp.

His gaze was fixated on the pathetic, winged and restrained creature before him, frantic and trapped. He could taste her angelic aura from where he stood, feeling a physical illness of disgust and energy conflicting with his own wafting over him.

"Doctor, what pre-tell is in my lair that I am looking at?!' He knew what it was, his shaking hand on the back of his hand indicated he DEFINITELY knew what it was. But he wanted the explanation for it. And he wanted it NOW.




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The Writer



His broadcast? OHH no they knew what he meant by that any dennison of Hell knew what he meant if they've been around more than a day maybe even hour. They felt their stomach drop and their tail droop in between their legs.
Their eyes follow his hands to the book, when he holds it in front of them they hear the ticking clock, shivering more profusely where they stood.

They swallowed the growing lump caught at the back of their throat, using their finger to read the page to see what he meant...oh they know this page, they remember it very well, their expression turned to one of discomfort and embarrassment, a sky blue tinge crawling onto their cheeks as they finished the first passage, the bookmark was also unsettling to say the least. Their gaze meets his, adjusting their collar and they swallow once more, trying to reach for the words to say in their flustered arrangement.

"I-It's...It's p-promiscuous s-so I'd assume the ban i-is uh..literature of that nature?" They smile nervously, tail lashing below their belt with fervor and fear, praying that was the answer as they saw the ticking clock with their fate above them should they fail.




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The Demons and the Scientist



“S...sir please…! I can explain…!” An audible gasp emitted from Flug, his arms flailing to protest his bag being torn into. “I..it’s not what it looks like…! I was trying to...I wanted to…” Claws dug further in, tearing too far in beyond repairs in front of the other demon.


His airway was blocked by his saliva, leaving the scientist in a choking fit, his hands reaching to clutch the ends of Black Hat’s coat sleeves. “I admit… it’s an angel. I’ve brought an ANGEL into the lair. She’s with Sunblast. She’s the reason he always comes back healed and LITERALLY glowing because of her angelic abilities. She’s the reason he’s been impossible to kill because she’s...she’s…” Flug extended his neck, strands of wavy hair peeking through the tears in his bag. “Dammit… she’s a guardian angel..! I figured the organization could utilize that type of invincibility… a..and the demon here..the one who’s so desperately trying to get me in trouble… m...my research so far...th..though inconclusive sho….shows…..” a solid 30 seconds while Flug tried to gain enough air to finish his statement, “there is evidence he may not be within this universe’s g..genetic codes. Ever since he’s been out of his containment zone, the ….the world around him melts as you saw outside..! S..sir this is the equivalent of utilizing black matter...i..in my...our...your laboratory..! I ...I wanted to surprise you, s...sir… the incident with Sunblast was a chaotic nightmare even if I did...f...f...figure it out…” He tensed, shutting his eyes.


“..I wanted to redeem myself from that and make you pr..proud, sir..”




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The Radio Demon



“Precisely, my dear!” Alastor grinned. Above him the clock paused at 12 seconds remaining, the spare time immediately hitting the 0 mark. “Unfortunately we are entirely pressed for time and you took far too long to answer a question on something so painstakingly and crudely blatant!” He clapped his hands twice, the two of the appearing on the rooftop of the very building they resided in. Just to their immediate left was a radio station, the door hinged open with an eerie illumination casting from the buttons within.

He internally took note of the tail between their legs with ever growing joy. Something about this one … as MUCH as he craved a good broadcast, this one brought about him a completely different type of satisfaction. One that death itself wouldn’t resolve.

Audiences of his past shows would more often than not immediately grant him what he wanted within seconds of being asked or would fight him tooth and nail, calling him profanities that made their punishment ever so delightful. This one.

This one was a bit different. Surely they were afraid, but it was a different fear altogether.

A sense of determination. Judging by their fidgetiness and sheer shame when they met his eyes, they were determined to not tell him that it was they who wrote the book.

Of course, he’s known this since he sent his shadows. There is a benefit to the spell which allows him to see, hear and feel just about everything within that vicinity. Just a few seconds over their table at the coffee shop and it was all he needed to know.

But they couldn’t know that. Them knowing that he knew was about no different than a child learning that the tooth fairy wasn’t real from their parent. Surely it would’ve been one hell of a fiasco to watch; and maybe seeing the child cry for the next two days would make the world an even sweeter place… but in the end they’d know. And once they know, it takes a little bit more power away from the parent.

Soon enough, there’s absolutely NOTHING that would allow him to keep his grasp over Hell and Lucifer would banish him for his antics and and--


Alastor tugged his grin further back into his cheeks.

Don’t let them know what you’re thinking.

“Anyways! Yes there was a ban on adult material due to its overall effect on hell! People stopped working and instead sought night-time workers. It was absolutely foul!~” The stag looked over the work once more, a gloved finger running down the bookmark in whimsical thought. “Though, I must say. Whoever wrote this material has done a PHENOMENAL job. I may consider bringing them onboard as a private author. But since we've already established it isn't you -- I mean just look at your entire get up! No respectable author would honestly dress like THAT -- and you fail to meet the agreed time..
..Why don't you step inside my office?"



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The Writer



Their gaze flickers up towards the timer, their muscles visibly relaxing, though still shivering at the site of the remaining 12 seconds on the clock of demise above them, the ticking sound ceasing it's tormented lull whence willed by the towering man. The rise of trapped air releases from their chest, showing further their relief of terror..Only to be shortly returned to them by the notion of failure and-did he just say his office? THE office? Oh shit Oh shit Oh shit OH SHIT NO NO NO.

Frantic their mind races, eyes growing wide and attentive before retreating into tiny pricks, their chest showing rapid motions of rise and fall pattern as if hyperventilating. They had no choice, they had to fess up. They of course had PLANNED to but were terrified of the consequences, but now they're even more terrified of if they DON'T.

"W-WAIT-' They catch the volume in their voice, quickly coughing and going quieter in tone.

"W-wait T-The Author IS me, I w-was going to tell you I j-just wanted it in private. I don't like people knowing I'm the author for a multitude of personal reasons, let alone the ban on erotic material which I d-d-didn't know about before all of this.' They remove the bag from their shoulder, carefully taking out their sketch pad and a notebook, the sketchpad was black leather-bound, it looked as if it were an item of high sentimental, personal value from the condition it was kept in, the notebook as well with stickers and various customized edits done to the cover as a personalized art project.

'P-please I have proof I have the draft of my latest work. I don't like the work I d-do I just-I had to make rent and my boyfriend says my work is good b-but I don't let him know I write the stories t-too, just told him I was hired to draw art for the company,' They seemed to be shaking visibly more than before, tears pricking their eyes.

"P-Please don't tell him of all people he'll b-be so mad I don't wanna make him mad,' They were close to sobbing at this point, their tie peeked his eye open to look up at his owner and stayed silent, trying to not interfere with the predicament at hand.






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The Radio Demon



Finally.


Alastor’s eyes rested on their chest as it heaved up and down. They were no more a threat than a bunny rabbit in broad daylight. There was little to no threat in terms of determining the potential of tarnishing his reputation. Still, the show must go on. After all, a gentleman must keep their promises at all time, right?


The author clarified his sentiment by correcting their own level of volume, despite their panic. Not a single question about the timer or the terms of ANY of this. They simply went with it, playing it off until they had an optimal opportunity to confess.


Impressive.


The stag withheld an open palm, as if to see a closer look at the book. Of course, this wasn’t a request but moreso a demand from the Radio Demon. After all, he couldn’t afford such a small, new demon to pull a fast one over him, now could he? Simply watching the creator stagger and bawl over a leather encasing wouldn’t do; considering he’s done the same over birthdays, funerals and court proceedings in his previous life. He didn’t ACTUALLY care for those situations, but in order to be not labeled a monster, he’d have to conform.


He expected no less from the author.


Then they went on about some sappy boyfriend and how he’d think of them. If they were so concerned with what their lover thought, why were they still together?


The stag’s gaze flickered to the tie momentarily, warning him to not get involved before looking back at the author.


“You? You write the novellas?” Alastor paused. Truth be told, if they were lying --which they were -- he’d have an excuse to revisit the office. If they were by the slim chance telling the truth, however…


With a snap of his fingers, both the author and Alastor reappeared back into his studio with the guest sitting on the couch. The stag stood over them about a foot away, arms behind his back with both eyes closed in thought. “I must admit, Hell currently has been in a rather stable place at the moment and even thriving thanks to your works.. While this will not mean lifting the ban, I SUPPOSE I can make an exception this one time. You may continue to engage in your work under the condition you are to do it here and only here.” His eyes flittered into a half lidded gaze, his lips pulling apart to reveal his content. He revealed a hand from behind his back, extending it out in the author’s direction.


“Do we have a deal?”



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Lord Black Hat



Black Hat's growl slowly dissipated the more Flug talked, he seemed to be listening and analyzing. His anger was still imminent with the grasp of his claws on his paper-bag sanctuary, but that too began to relinquish. His pupil scanned, between the angel, the boy, and his contract. He walked up to the angel, staying a safe ten feet from the distance of her aura and was silent. His yellowed orbs flicker back to his scientist while his body was positioned towards the angel.

"It's clear you went behind my back with this assignment,' His inflection sang one of being displeased, but seemed to be biting something back behind his fangs, a misty, gurgling, bubbled breath released slowly from his serpentine maw.

'That being said-I would like to see the studies and notes of this project on my desk, with haste. Were you able to remove any of the angelic aura from our captive?' He seemed calm, his throat still broiled with an annoyance of sorts but his expression forgave no indication of his intent or thoughts, only his physical position to the angel, and his gaze on his contract. His claws were tapping arm, wrapped firmly behind his back. Something was cooking in his mind, something with the angel. And it seemed, for now, Flug was safe.




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The Writer



They felt their hand move before their brain could tell them otherwise, handing over their book to the demon for him to peruse over, no longer caring for the humiliation but rather their safety from whatever plans he had-and just like that they were back on the couch. Their tail and hands felt their face and body, as if making sure it was in one piece. Altogether, nothing replaced, removed or damaged. They were ok! They put their hand on their forehead, slouched forward slightly on the sofa, their leg shaking slightly and-

their peripheral from where they sat caught the color red, to which their eyes wandered to see the extended arm of the demon, listening to him and his proposition through his as per usual Cheshire-cat toothy grin. Only at his place? Why would-no no fuck it-it meant they were safe. So they had to work in a specific area, no harm no fowl better than what only the tortured past souls of his cruelties would know should they deny.

"Yes yes yes, thank you Mr. Radio Demon Sir!' They shake his hand, their's considerably smaller and paler than his, covered in finger-less gloves with what felt to be leathery paw prints on the palms, their tail wagging furiously like an excited puppy, their arms hugging and embracing their sketch pad closer to their chest as a small smile with tears of relief left their eyes.

'Am I allowed music while I work? It's how I concentrate with the art portion, I usually have showtunes and classical' They seemed to smile sheepishly, their spirits seeming boosted at the prospect of survival alone. Their tie's eye was gazing horrified at his owner, realizing what they just did without so much as a second thought, his claws grasping their shirt as if terrified. They seemed confused and tilt their head, but shrug and curtsy to the demon lord.
"My name is Acedia, by the way. The tie is Psyche,' At the mention of his name, once more his appendages and eye retract into the garment so it appears to be nothing more than a simple, silk striped purple tie.




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The Demons and the Scientist



“Y..yes sir…! I’ve been t..taking extensive notes on them both…” Flug eased with Black Hat’s grip, fighting back a pricked tear. He left momentarily out of the lab doors and returned with a bible of a binder full of notes. Each sheet neatly tucked into a protector and labeled by divisors. Despite his sneaking around, Flug really did put some thought into all of this. A shame the efforts for the surprise was soiled and too soon.


“Unfortunately, it’ll be a little bit until this room can actively recover. Only way would be f..for..” he turned back to the boy. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to go back into the containment chamber, would you..?”


“An’ miss tha bloody fireworks? I fink not.” Ruufls crossed his arms, looking dead at the human. Then again, if the room were to reset, he’d be able to have a second shot at conquering the head demon himself -- alone. “Yew lot gonna flambe an’ angel?”


“I...ehm…” Flug tensed, eyes bouncing to his boss momentarily, “I can’t promise anything but it can be likely -- maybe, perhaps. If science allows it.” He approached Black Hat cautiously with the notes, opening to a particular page. “Unfortunately I have not been able to remove the angelic aura. At least -- not completely. It took quite a bit of time to figure out, but if demons and angels oppose one another in theory, perhaps their genetic make up has something to do with it. It seems as though exposure to demon blood, when injected directly by a third party -- in this c...case, myself …-- she seems to have lost her hue little by little over time. The angel also has reported to have lost energy over time and willpower to fight back...as...a hero, if you will, sir.”


Flug cupped his hand beneath the massive pages and flipped from day 4 to day 56. “She’s reportedly to have spoken about her hero -- Sunblast -- 43% times less by the 56th day. My intention was to thoroughly n..neutralize the angelic effect that you as a demon would be opposed to...and extract DNA so you can benefit it in a sort of...a...anti-biotic. If successful…” He swallowed at the proceeding thought.


“Any source of holy and light magic would be immuned...against you.”



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The Radio Demon




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Oh how long.


How long since the Radio Demon yearned for a naive soul to take their hand into his.


Their soul might as well be his at this point. With the deal they made? It technically was. All and anything that existed within his realm was owned by none other than him. Even though the artwork would be so meticulously crafted by the youngblood author, all rights, property and dare he say it -- labor -- was his and his alone.


They simply served as an eager propellor and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Especially not with the fiasco just now.


Alastor’s hand closed around the so-named Acedia, taking in the cotton of the fingerless gloves. Were they inhabitants of the core of hell? That was perhaps the only region where it was actually cold.


Nevermind, they were going to live here. It was only a matter of time before they properly learned.


Tailed demons from his experience really were gullible things. Alastor suppressed a chuckle as it wagged innocently, completely unaware of the predicament it and its owner got themself into.


“Listen to any kind of music you’d like! As long as it’s theatrical, has a hit on broadway, and clean. Any inkling of vulgar language and the disk goes out the window along with the other artists of the same genre.” Upon being introduced to their… tie, was it? Alastor refocused his attention on the piece of article. “You...name your clothing?” He grinned politely. “Well in that case!” pointing to his monocle, the Radio Demon cackled -- though not necessarily WITH her or in good humor, “This here is mono!”




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Lord Black Hat



Black Hats' gaze scans the various pieces of paper, parchment, printer, notebook, taking in as many notes and factoids as he can while keeping firm focus on the angel and analyzing her physical status. He nods every so often, his eyebrow raising with intrigue at the mention of some form of success.

"You were able to see progress with this experiment? Demonstrate.' He walks over to a desk to look for-where was it? He had those strewn about somewhere..His hands searched out for the feeling of glass and cylinder, the tip of his digits catching the sensation and picking up what appeared to be a syringe, never used. He then walks over to Flug, rolling up his own sleeve and hands the instrument to the scientist.

' Inject my blood into the angel, I want to see the results firsthand. You are also to give me hourly reports upon the regression of her aura or non. Your research may hold merit, but I want to see proof,' His gaze then turns to the small boy, his serpentine tongue giving a slight hiss to the child.

"And lock him up as well,' His free hand says, gesturing with a wave to the diminutive demon before him.
' I despise children and this research has far too great importance for interruptions.' He then hands the folder back to Flug, his glowering expression not leaving Ruufl.




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The Writer



They nod as they hear his terms and conditions on the musical choice, seemed fair enough hat with no vulgarities and such forth, man had class and they understood. However, when returned with the notion their tie was simply a tie with no sentience, they tilt their head at the notion of naming it, blinking curiously when he demonstrated his display of possible mockery( though they can't be certain). They look down at their tie and shake it about, the tie then with great ferocity and speed retracts claws and an eye, grasping into their hand making them squeak.

"YOWOWOWOW! Not cool!' The tie glares up at them while they exclaim their pain, the tie releasing it's grip whence he felt a point was made with his displeased nature.
"You know the foster care services were correct with your mentality of naivety and being too trusting, right?' He drawled, his upper...brow? Creased in what appeared to be anger or some other form of a perturbed state. His voice had a dulcet, velvet tone, one of mellifluous influence and propriety. The writer in turn huffs, their tail flicking at the now sentient article.

"I thought we agreed not to bring that part of my life up,' They muttered, hissing behind their fangs and their posture slumped to almost one of shame. The tie's right and left claws crossed like a pair of arms, the stitched hemming at the bottom forming a mouth shape almost to one resembling that of a scowl.

"Yes, well, we also agreed you would be careful but that just simple is going to be tossed with the wind now isn't it? ' He barked back, the young demon attached to it shaking their head, sighing.

"Anyways, I should probably get going, I have to get myself cleaned and dinner should be done by now and Wolf hates being kept waiting. If you need my phone number so I can be reached or to set up a time for my return to work on the next piece,my deadline for my editor is a couple weeks so I have plenty of time luckily,' They were using their tail-putting their belongings into their bag delicately.





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The Demons and the Scientist





“Oi, piss off! I ain’t goin’ back in there! It’s smelly an’ small an’...” Ruufl’s shoulders arched at the demon’s glower. It was one thing to challenge a human on a whim, not so much with a high ranked demon that had far more brains than he anticipated. He would have to reset for now. The child disappeared in the form of a glitch and reappeared into his small containment.


“I...I’m sorry sir… you want me to draw blood from you to inject into the..” Flug’s thoughts drifted, a gloved hand accepting the syringe with care. The scientist nodded at the conditions, immediately zoning in on his work.


Black Hat was absolutely serious. He wanted him to take blood and insert it into the angel as explained. Not that he questioned his orders, not one bit. But typically those who were to so much as step foot near the dark lord could bet on leaving without a head.


The scientist injected the syringe and pulled the top, turning his head toward the angel who had been spending the conversation perched on the highest ledge in the cage, her back to them. Tips of her wings were beginning to gray, an ongoing result of the doctor’s experimentation.


Once he had the sample of blood, Flug straightened his back and approached the cage.


Now was his time to shine.


Flug surfaced a small blowdart gun, careful to not stir the unsuspecting angel. He aimed carefully and silently blew.


The angel’s ears twitched slightly, allowing herself to plummet off the ledge to avoid the dart, casting the scientist and his demon overlord a nasty glower in the process. Mid-fall, her wings unraveled, a metallic collar with the chain connecting to the ceiling above the cage threatening to choke her if she were not careful. A black sleeveless shirt, very similiar in fashion to Ruufls and in a modest skirt as a second piece adorned the angel. She too was barefooted, both ankles chained in same manner as her neck, but connected to what seems to run into the floor.


Flug sighed. Just this once she could have made things easier. From his coat-pocket he revealed one of his many buttons. Upon pressing this one, metallic claws reached around and grabbed her wings, holding the creature in place. The scientist stepped into the cage, injecting the syringe into her ribcage. “Nothing personal, it’s all for science.” He assured her.


“Go to hell,” the angel finally spoke, a whimper passing her lips. For a few seconds her limbs and torso convulsed in reaction to the blood, the angelic hue around her lacking a certain amount in comparison to before. Tips of her wings expanded further into the greyier territory, some strands taking on a greenish hue.


The experiment subject’s anguish reflected emotionlessly on Flug’s goggles as he wiped off the syringe. “Well. You could argue I’m practically there already.” He turned, shutting the door behind him and locking the cage. “Not that’s necessarily a bad thing, of course. I quite happen to like my job.”


He reapproached Black Hat. “I’ll have your notes readied within the next 15 minutes. Anything else I can do for you, Mister...Black Hat, sir?”



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The Radio Demon




Alastor watched Psyche come to life rather expectantly. As if he had seen the tie in its sentient state before and only aimed to wedge the two for the brief moment.


They exchanged a few words about foster care to which Alastor couldn’t help but intervene with comments of his own. “You were apart of the Foster Care? Ah, dearest, let me tell you of a story where I got to see an entire orphanage burn. You’ve never seen children shrivel up and dust quite like the younger ones -- especially the ones that were being left without food! It was quite a show, I must say.”


He chuckled, not quite getting why his laughter wasn’t shared with the two other proponents of the conversation. “Yeesh, between talks of being apart of an alternative home and your expression necktie there, I’m beginning to wonder where exactly the joke itself laid. Nothing like ending a day in a sour mood~”


Alastor’s grin stretched further upon the mention of going home.


“Why, what’s the rush? I’m sure this Wolf fellow will be perfectly content with being home alone again!~ You, my dear, have some work to be doing. I’ve noticed one of your rough sketches aren’t quite finished! Give the man a call, let him know you’ll be working late, I have some spare sleep wear lying around someplace and a toothbrush.” The stag reached over, taking the bag from their tail grasp with a bit of a gentle yank. “30 more minutes, dearest! What do you say?”



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The Writer



They hear how they can call him, nodding and taking out their phone, dialing it. The thought of calling in privacy was crossed against their conscience but they thought better to call with someone nearby-in case of..certain expected transgressions.

The phone rings, once, twice, three times, around the fifth time a voice could be heard through the opposite end., the tone was deep and had the tone of some form of annoyance.
"H-hey Wolf, I thought I'd call-'
"You were supposed to call an hour ago, Ace. You had me worried sick,' However his tone was of a different manner, one of an anger of sorts. The smaller demon smiled nervously, clearing their throat with index and middle finger resting on their wrist which held the phone in their hand, as if checking their pulse.

The tie seemed as though he were familiar with this song and tune that was transpiring, rolling his eye and glowering at the phone, claws tapping gently.

"I-I know sweetie I was a bit caught up, someone ran into me and-'
"Where the fuck are you, dinner's gettin' cold'
"N-nononono I know listen I have to stay the night it's a business-'
"YOU WHAT?!"

They panic, tail shot up and stiff as a pole.
"H-honey honey I know what you're thinking please don't be mad-' They were at this point holding the phone out, their 'lover's voice so loud it would possibly burst an eardrum like a grape if too close to their hearing. The sounds of indecipherable yelling, cussing and the like could be heard on the other end, accusations of being a harlot and being selfish could be what was to be deciphered from the jumbled mess of the Chicago accented demon.

'Listen, I promise I'll make it up to you I don't have a choice in the matter, you'll get..extra..'you-know-what' time when I get back I promise ok?" They started crying slightly and the voice sighed, his tone still one of annoyance. When talking of the proposition to the opposite voice they seemed as if they didn't truly want to do what they offered but it was more out of fear and obligation.

"Listen, I just want us to be happy and you make it difficult, just be good ok?" A face of guilt was evident on their face, nodding and responding with a sullen apology and the voice turning affectionate on the other end.

"Sides, you're my lil cutie, just get home ok~ you know how daddy gets when he doesn't have his lil baby. You know I love you right?"
"Y-yes I do' Their tail wrapped close to their body, tip shaking nervously.
"Yes what?"
They lower their voice so Alastor can't hear or attempt to hide it from his hearing, blushing bright blue and looking uncomfortable when doing so.
"Aight that's my sugarpuff, kisses and loves, get home soon as you can. Dun want daddy and his friends to miss you too much...right?"

They shake their head, continually apologizing for upsetting him and then hang up, sighing and shoving the phone back into their bag, looking as if they were shaking. Tears tried to escape their eyes but they quickly wiped them away. It was clear the final spoken sentence of this Wolf man was more of a threat than an actual question, laced with a growl and the sound of tapping claws on a piece of furniture from his end, as if expectant and impatient.

The tie seemed to be revolted by the last sentence, his eye's glare only further continuing to narrow in the direction of the sound of the voice.
"I don't see how you can stay with that man,' He remarks, they smiled down at him and let their tail relax to the floor, though it was still in a curled position.
"H-he's just mad cuz I messed up he can be sweet,' They said, voice slightly tired and sighing, turning back to Alastor. "S-sorry you had to hear that, he may have been drinking again or I messed up the time I was supposed to call before,' They held their tail slightly in one hand, tip noticeably thrashing in an anxious driven state.




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Lord Black Hat



He suppressed a hiss, biting his bottom lip so hard a single bead of blood protruded it's head from his vein in an anguished freedom. The needle was never something he was pleased about, he would never admit it but he despised the feeling. Sharp, cold, burning at once-it's a miracle the humans allow such a torturous device to be legal for medicinal purpose. But, work had to be done and he must stick it out.

He observes the angel while trapping a single bandage on the affected area of his arm, his oozing black blood inky and tarry in texture, watching the foreign mixture deposited into the angel made his lips crawl with a sinister, pleased expression with a dark, underlying chuckle beneath his toothy grin.

"Results so soon, Ooooh the pleasure this project shall be. New plan, Doctor,' He turns to the man, his fingertips carefully touching the other;'s of his opposite hand, a grin from ear to ear stretching his lips and teeth to the point the bottoms of his gums can be showed, eye narrowed in thought.

"Sunblast is a secondary thought, I want us to continue to drain the angelic aura of this creature,' He points to the caged angel, feeling her divine essence slowly withering, even if only slight in marginal progress. "I will have nourishment to help brain activity brought to you, work diligently until the arrival of Miss Penuembra, am I understood?"




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