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

Its You

As Alastor's consciousness slowly stirred, he became aware of a swirling darkness that enveloped him, suffusing his senses with an eerie sensation of weightlessness. Opening his eyes, he found himself standing in the midst of a desolate landscape, the air thick with the acrid scent of sulfur and brimstone.

Confusion clouded his thoughts as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. Where was he? What had happened? The memories of his final moments flickered in his mind's eye, a jumbled blur of pain and confusion.

And then it hit him like a thunderbolt. He remembered the searing pain of the bullet tearing through his flesh, the overwhelming sensation of darkness closing in around him as his life slipped away. He remembered the cold, final embrace of death, swallowing him whole and dragging him down into the depths of oblivion.

But this was no oblivion. This was something far worse.

As Alastor tested out his newfound powers in the depths of hell, a sense of exhilaration washed over him. With a mere thought, he could conjure shadow that danced and flickered in the darkness, casting eerie shadows across the barren landscape. He reveled in the feeling of raw power coursing through his veins, the sensation of control over the infernal forces that surrounded him.

With a snap of his fingers, he summoned forth a swarm of dark creatures from the depths of the abyss, their twisted forms writhing and contorting in the crimson light. They obeyed his every command, bending to his will with unwavering loyalty as he unleashed them upon the hapless souls that wandered the infernal plains.

As he watched the chaos unfold before him, a cruel smile spread across Alastor's lips. Here, in the depths of hell, he would be untouchable. He reveled in the suffering of the damned, relishing the fear and despair that emanated from their tortured souls.

But even as he indulged in his newfound powers, a nagging sense of emptiness gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. Despite his outward bravado, Alastor couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that no amount of power or control could fill the void that lingered within him.

As Alastor's mind drifted to thoughts of (Y/n), a pang of longing swept through him, the memory of her lingering like a ghost in the recesses of his consciousness. He couldn't shake the image of her, her scarlet hair cascading like a waterfall around her shoulders, her eyes ablaze with determination and defiance.

Would she be in hell? She was kind and generous with a heart of gold but then again, she didn't have an aversion to murder, maybe the darkness in her soul sent her here.

He couldn't bear the thought of her being alone in this hellish realm for over a year, facing the horrors of damnation without him by her side. Guilt gnawed at his conscience as he remembered the promises he had made to her, promises that he had failed to keep.

With a sense of urgency burning in his chest, Alastor resolved to find (Y/n) no matter the cost. He would scour every corner of hell, brave every danger, and face every demon that stood in his way until he was reunited with her once more.

For (Y/n) was more than just a memory to him. She was his anchor in this sea of darkness, the light that guided him through the shadows. And as he set out on his quest to find her, Alastor knew that he would stop at nothing to bring her back into his arms, to protect her from the horrors of hell and keep her safe for all eternity.

••••****••••

As Alastor walked down the bustling Main Street of hell, his sharp eyes caught sight of a group of female demons parading down the thoroughfare. Their forms were draped in fabrics that seemed oddly familiar, their silhouettes adorned with designs that sent a shiver of recognition down Alastor's spine.