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

Life in Hell

Tw: Violence and Assault

As (Y/n) tumbled through the void, a sense of disorientation washed over her, her senses overwhelmed by the chaotic whirlwind of colors and sensations. When she finally landed with a thud on solid ground, she took a moment to catch her breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

As she slowly rose to her feet, (Y/n) couldn't help but notice that something was different. Her once-human form had been transformed, her appearance now reflecting the twisted and grotesque nature of Hell. She noticed a pair of red butterfly wings on her back, which she folded around herself like a skirt.

A sense of unease washed over (Y/n) as she glanced around at her surroundings, taking in the scene of violence and bloodshed that stretched out before her. The streets were filled with demons locked in fierce battles, their roars and screams echoing through the air like a symphony of chaos.

It didn't take long for (Y/n) to realize where she was. Hell. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, her mind racing with questions and fears.

But as (Y/n) stood amidst the chaos of Hell, a steely determination began to take root within her. She may have found herself in the darkest depths of the underworld, but she refused to let fear consume her.

As (Y/n) walked through the twisted streets of Hell, her mind filled with thoughts of Alastor. Memories of their time together flashed through her mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the life she had left behind. Despite the chaos and despair that surrounded her, she found solace in the memory of his scarlet eyes and devilish grin.

••••****••••

Before she knew it she had survived her first week in hell.... barely. As (Y/n) stumbled through the treacherous streets of hell, her body battered and bruised, she felt a sense of desperation gnawing at her soul. Her clothes were torn, her skin marred with wounds inflicted by demons who saw her as nothing more than prey.

Each step she took sent waves of agony coursing through her weary frame, but she pressed on, driven by a primal instinct to find some semblance of security in this unforgiving realm. Her eyes darted frantically from side to side, searching for any sign of refuge amidst the chaos that surrounded her.

But everywhere she looked, all she saw were leering faces and twisted forms, demons whose eyes gleamed with malice and hunger. She knew that she was alone, vulnerable in a world where weakness was met with cruelty and brutality.

And yet, despite the overwhelming odds stacked against her, (Y/n) refused to surrender to despair. With every ounce of strength she could muster, she pushed forward, driven by a fierce determination to survive.

For in the depths of hell's darkest abyss, amidst the shadows and the screams, she clung to the flickering hope that somewhere, somehow, she would find the security and solace she so desperately sought. And until that day came, she would fight on, her spirit unbroken, her resolve unwavering.

She knew that finding employment in Hell would be no easy task, and employment would be the first thing she needed before using one of the hotels to stay. She had always possessed a knack for fashion and design, and she was determined to use her skills to carve out a place for herself in this bleak and unforgiving realm.

The streets were filled with demons of all shapes and sizes, each one more grotesque than the last. Flames licked at the sky, casting an eerie glow over the twisted landscape, and the air was thick with the stench of sulfur and decay.

But amidst the chaos, (Y/n) spotted a glimmer of hope—a boutique nestled between two crumbling buildings, its sign adorned with faded letters that spelled out "Infernal Couture." With a sense of cautious optimism, she made her way towards the shop, her heart pounding in her chest.