Caught in the Butterfly's Web (Hazbin Hotel x (y/n)

The Return of Radio

In the quiet solitude of her domain, (Y/n) sat upon her chaise, a delicate porcelain teacup cradled in her hands as she listened to the soft static of an old radio in the background. The years had passed swiftly, yet the ache in her heart remained, a constant reminder of the love that was missing.

She liked to pretend that static of the radio was the jazz, Alastor used to play for her, or the screams of overlords being tortured.

As she sipped her tea, the warmth of the liquid failing to chase away the chill that lingered in her bones, memories of Alastor flooded her mind. She remembered his laughter, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, and the sound of his voice as he whispered words of love and devotion into her ear.

It had been seven long years since she had last seen him, there was no note, no goodbye, he just simply dropped off the face of hell. And though she had tried to move on, to bury the pain deep within her soul, the memory of him lingered like a ghost, haunting her every waking moment.

"Love is such a poison, it feels so good in the moment but the memory of it is suffocating," she said to herself as she let a scarlet red butterfly dance along her finger tips:

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) set down her teacup, the delicate clink of porcelain against saucer echoing in the silence of the room. She reached out to the old radio, her fingers tracing the familiar dials as she searched for a station amidst the static.

As the crackling of the radio filled the air, a sense of longing washed over her, the sound a bittersweet reminder of the past she had left behind. And as she sat there, lost in her thoughts, she couldn't help but wonder if somewhere out there, Alastor was listening too, his heart yearning for her just as hers yearned for him.

As (Y/n) sat lost in her memories, a delicate fluttering filled the air, drawing her attention to the palm of her hand. With a gasp, she watched as another butterfly, its wings shimmering with iridescent hues, landed gently upon her outstretched hand.

Heart pounding with anticipation, (Y/n) held her breath as she listened, her senses keenly attuned to the message carried by the tiny messenger. And then, like a whisper on the wind, the words came, filling her with a sense of hope and longing.

"Alastor is back!"

The words echoed in her mind, a beacon of light cutting through the darkness that had clouded her heart for so long. With a surge of excitement, (Y/n) felt a flicker of hope ignite within her, the promise of reunion filling her with renewed determination.

With trembling fingers, she reached out to the butterfly, her touch gentle as she whispered words of gratitude and urgency. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

A swarm of butterflies converged showing her an advertisement floating around on tv, she knew the voice, she knew it was Alastor. She swatted the butterflies away and sat back down in her chaise.

"The hazbin hotel? What's caught your eye this time beloved?" She questioned but instead of feeling a swell of joy she felt furious, "what's so special about this place that you can't visit me?!" She snarled.

••••****••••

Even though his first picture show advertisement wasn't well liked by Charlie, he thought it was pretty good. He also knew that it wouldn't catch anyone's attention, except one demon who he wasn't sure would give him a grand reception or kill for disappearing without a word.

Whilst Charlie took a call Alastor in the others waited for her in the parlour. "Hey, I have a question, if freaky face is so powerful, then why can't he make people stay here?" Angel Dust questioned.