What if HELLUVA BOSS meets Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt !? Brief x New Girls & Comedy Tales !?

What if HELLUVA BOSS meets Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt !? Brief x New Girls & Comedy Tales !?

the smoke out of my face. Hello and welcome back fellow anime lovers to Cipherix. I am delighted to have you join us once again in the world of fanfiction and fantasy. This is the first part of what if hell of a boss meets panty and stalking with garter belt. Special note, this fanfic is written and a masterpiece of Zaru on fanfiction.net. Do check and support the author too. Now, smash the like, share, and subscribe button for more. Also, press the bell icon so that you never miss such great parts. Thanks for the introduction. Now, let’s dive into the world. It was another dreary day in hell. The red black sky of the pride ring loomed over the countless denisens of predition, sinners populating the various circle cities, and depending on their level of power and sin, waging war on another for territory, prestige, and ever more power. For Vortex, a Blackford hellhound who, like many others, made his living as a bodyguard, it was just another Tuesday. He sat riding shotgun in the luxurious convertible of one hell’s top pop stars, the one and only Verasica Mayday. She drove, as she was fond of saying, fast and loose, just like me, while egotistically singing along with one of her own songs, a vile little diddy called X’s and No Faces, the hit single of her equally debauched summer album, But Wave. At one point not too long ago, Vortex vowed that he’d throw himself from a moving car and barrel roll into oncoming traffic if he had to listen to that song one more time. Instead, he remained focused and aware for any possible threats to his client. Normally, he would have drove, but she wanted to today, making some crack about riding be that he had successfully tuned out. Can’t go wrong riding in these nice seats and not have to worry about some douchebag sinner trying to t-bone you. And if there’s any cat calls from any drivers, he would obligingly give them a snarl. Verasica would blow a kiss, and the cat callers usually wound up in a fivecar pile up. There had been two so far. Oh, make that three. It brought a smirk to the oneeyed hounds face, and Verasica barked out a laugh. Works every time. Sinner sea stains are going to be asphalt cake for months before they regenerate. if they can get through the purge. That is,” Vortex replied dryly. “Well, we’ll worry about that when we get there.” The pink-haired succubus drawled as she looked at herself in the rear view mirror. “Do I got something on my face?” Vortex turned, looking at her as she got off the highway and towards Imp City, where her studio was. “Looks fine to me, though I don’t have depth perception,” Vortex said. Ask your friends to powder you up. True, but they usually cover everything up. I got to make sure I look just right for the upcoming recording session. Is it going to be filmed for a documentary? Chanel 666. If it was, you’d be the first to know. Texas. Verasica winked and Vortex shrugged. They drove through the streets and found their building where the studio was. As Verasica huffed at the sight of a familiar van in a parking spot. F no good PP eating sht huffing. She hissed under her breath. Vortex rolled her eyes. To be fair, she did steal his spot. When it came to her ex, the way she could drop all rationality and go fullon feral and petty was almost impressive in a stupid self-defeating way. Then again, it wasn’t in his job description to judge, just to guard her body. Verasica paid very well, and the only downside was giving the occasional BLWJB to some fat human cop. As a hellhound, he’d done worse to get by. So, Tex, Gail, and Scott have some envy shrooms, Verasica said as they got to their spot and settled in. After the recording sesh, we were thinking of dropping some. You in? The pop star grabbed her white furboa and got out, tossing Vortex the keys. The Hound caught them without so much as a second glance as he got out of the car and clicked on some keys to close at the convertible and lock it. Maybe having a little fun. She licked her lips, eyeing him up as Vortex remained neutral, inwardly his eyes rolling like a dog on a fresh bed of grass. While he was good at his job the best, if her yao reviews were anything to go by, the reason Verasica wanted him on the payroll was far less professional. Amongst all her other bodyguards, he was by far the most attractive. Considering her other guards consisted of burly snaggletooth Leviathans and short, scrawny imps, he took this compliment with a grain of salt. Not to say he didn’t divert the attention. He made the effort to stay in shape, training everyday. But that was more for practical reasons than vanity. Outside of sinners, there weren’t many Helens out there that would want to tangle with him. And even among those depraved faller trash, most wouldn’t come away from the experience in one piece. Sorry, I’m not into that, ma’am. Vortex pocketed the keys as he walked behind her. Oh, come on, Tex. Like, I know you got a girlfriend, but what she doesn’t know can’t hurt, she oiled, winking his way and lowering her glasses to show off her red eyes. My apologies, ma’am. But he shrugged, smirking her way as he thought up something. I’m saving up my pent-up daily stress for Yula. Verasica blinked, then laughed. Haha. Why didn’t say so? She huffed, shaking her head. Man, I’ve had fun with my producers and buddies, but you text. You’re the one egg I just can’t crack. Vortex saw her eye him up. Makes me wonder what gooey goodness is inside. Your bee is a lucky gal. Well, I got something good. Might as well hold on to it, you know. Vortex said as he opened the door for her. Let me be the one to make the good decisions while you make the be and bad ones. You card. She sauntered as her phone vibrated. She reached into her purse. Of that’s right, text. Vortex closed the door as he followed her. I got a trip to Azy’s back home planned for tomorrow. Can you make it? The black fur hound sighed. We agreed on this, ma’am. I’m using my vacation day tomorrow. Vortex pulled out his phone. We agreed on it when we signed the Ha’s contract for my employment under you. Verasica’s lips puckered in as she let out a loud growl of frustration. Ugg, you’re right. She grumbled. Fhea’s contracts. F unbreakable. Vortex nodded as she sighed. Guess I’ll come packing a little heat just in case, and bring some of my buddies, she looked back up to him, eyebrow arcing as a lurid glint flashed in her eyes. “What you got planned?” she asked as she walked along the first floor, heading towards the recording studio. Hound party. Vortex replied. Me and Yula love host them. Plus gives us the chance to blow a little steam. And I give you so many chances to blow a little. Verasica sighed before shrugging. Welp can’t be helped. The big man down below was interested on who my new BG is nowadays. Vortex quirked an eyebrow. The lord of lust has been asking about me here and there. wondering who my new knight in shining armor is. She posed dramatically, leaning into the muscular hound, Vortex looked ahead, sighing through his nose. Would be. I bet you’d love a trip to Azy’s. I bet I would, he lied as he felt the urge rise up again. Hey ma’am, I’ll join up at the studio. Going to have a smoke. We can just smoke inside, you know, she said, rolling her eyes as they arrived to the elevator and pressed the button. Vortex shook his head, making her tilt her head as he pointed at the wall. On it, a new sign was posted. Imp city realy management. Anyone making a fire will be tried and sued because fu fire damage repairs. Seek k as do not smoke cook house electric eels make bonfires overpower electrical outlets. We thank you for your patience and understanding. Verasica sighed and clenched the bridge of her nose. There goes the bong. F. she uttered as she got her phone out to text her groupies to inform her of another vice being stricken off for the night. Well, go ahead and have your smoke. Texas Studio is just out the elevator. I know, ma’am. Vortex patted her on the shoulder and walked down the side and exited out through a side exit of the building. He sighed, looking about as he reached into his pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes. He got one out, broth to his lips, and got a lighter to light it up. He took a deep breath inside, smoke exiting his maw as nicotine filled his system. Imp city already had issues with smog. What’s a little more as he leaned against the wall and looked down at his phone. A new text popping up. He brought it up. Hey text, can I come to that hound party, please? Got nothing planned tomorrow. It was from Luna. He smiled a bit. His boss ex’s hellhound seemed like a nice girl, little shy and awkward, and when embarrassed can be loud. Her comment on not having many friends struck a cord in the black fur hound. F it. What’s one more to the party? Yulo would like her anyway. Of course. Here’s my address. Can you get a ride there? He texted back as he sent her his address. He sighed, leaning against the wall. He heard dark chuckling and cruning, his eye looking down the alleyway and seeing some misshapen sinners. One looking some quasamoto looking effer, the other a giant blue bird covered in gang green. They were rumaging through a dumpster down the alleyway, likely looking for food, and Vortex’s hand slid down to his thigh to the saraphim steel Bowie knife holstered there. He continued to smoke, his ears glued on their activities, and he heard a yell, a scream of someone falling and falling and falling. How high up was this efer? Vortex looked up, watching as a shape plummeted from the defiled sky to crash into a dumpster nearby. Vortex’s eyebrow arched slightly. Don’t sinners always land in Pentagram City when they are condemned to hell? Or maybe this effer got tossed out of a plane. F it. Cats are curious. Hell hounds not so much. Ow. DMN groaned the voice as vortex as I remained glued to the dumpster and out came. Wo. The thing crawling out wasn’t some absurd perversion. No ironic reflection of a fed soul made manifest in hell. It was a boy. Like just a boy. Some kid. a genuine honest to goodness human boy with pale skin, freckles, and a messy mop of red hair bordering on orange or even blonde, perhaps strawberry blonde. All dressed up in some [ __ ] looking deep green jumpsuit. He crawled out and landed on the pavement, rubbing his arms. Vortex’s nose perked up, sampling the air. This kid smelled very much alive. Too alive. The kid didn’t stink of a fresh faller. He smelled like actual living human. Vortex closed his eyes and sniffed, opening them again to see the boy’s orglow, still firmly connected to his meat suit. This was impossible. A living, breathing human in hell. Vortex. I looked down at his cigarette and tossed it to the ground. Did Verasica spike his smokes again? Maybe he should quit, if only to deny his lurid boss the limited access to his body she already had. Nebula always said he should. He rubbed his eye again. His sig was laced with something, right? He sniffed the air again. Yep. Very much an alive human boy, late teens, with his hair covering his eyes and freckles on his cheeks. “Where the heck am I?” the boy asked before turning and his eyes settled on the scarred vortex and he froze like a deer in headlights. “Okay.” His voice indicated he was either young or a TWWK. Mugsy look screeched a voice from down the alleyway. Vortex turned. The boy squawkked as the hunchback and bird sinners sauntering over, licking their chops, drooling fresh meat. This was the day that set in motion events that would bring all of creation to the brink of collapse of Armageddon. A meeting between a boy and a hound. Vortex needed time. Time to think. Time to understand. Preferably time to finish his smoke. Like, come on. He just got started. Not that he smoked boutique brands like his new money boss, but Tartatus tarsticks were hardly cheap. But no, the sinners down the alley were fast approaching, hungry lears on their malformed faces. Vortex had seen just about every kind of feted look in his time with Verasica, and he could tell from the gleam in these sinners eyes that even if there were leftovers, no one, not even in hell, would touch them with a 10-ft pole. He looked down at the kid, petrified with fear and confusion, looking back and forth between the towering hellhound and the anatomical mad lib scrabbling their way. He’d met humans before, usually while on the job. corny, impulsive, usually drugged up. But that’s just how Verasica’s concerts rolled. Sometimes he’d catch himself looking out at the surrounding cities. Mothers and fathers out with their kids, elders sitting on park benches, normal people walking their pets, all faintly repulsed by the debauchery taking place around the stage. Compared to the abject slums of Imp City and the self-perpetuating nightmare that was Pride, those cozy, peaceful places outside his boss influence had always seemed nice, quiet, and calm. Sometimes he’d feel the urge to go for walkies and see just what kind of place humans called home. “Smell that, Mugsy.” The hunchbacked sinner gurgled. “Ain’t no version, but close enough.” gently used cough, said the rotten bluebird. Mugsy and I bet he’s aversion in other ways. Gay he os it. The boy cried, scrambling away from them on his bottom and towards Vortex. W what are those things? Vortex examined his cigarette, weighing his options. Fu cough grunted cing his head as he approached. See them eyes green like Mammon’s wallet and such fine bone structure. P. Mugsy scoffed. You n I know DMN. Well, you don’t care how pretty your meat is, just that it screams when you bite it. DMN it. Vortex flicked his tar stick aside and stepped out in front of the boy. F off. The sinner stopped, apparently having just now registered the hellhounds presence. Many such cases. Ey cough snarled. UF off ring scraper. Yeah. Snapped Mugsy. We called Dibs. I didn’t hear no call, said Vortex, his tone cold. In fact, Dibs there. He landed closer to me. Anyway, Mutz got a big bark, said Cough, sneering. We going to let him yap. F in. Hellborn trash telling us what’s what. Mugsy growled, feathered fingers bunching into fists. Maybe we teach him some new tricks. Maybe we should. Vortex sighed, shaking his head. All right. The hulking hell hound lunged forward, fist sea at his side. He unleashed a brutal uppercut into the bird creature’s solar plexus, lifting him off his feet. Mugsy wheezed, his eyes bulging, his legs giving out the second his feet touched the ground. Vortex, with a snapping senue speed almost impossible for someone his size, withdrew his fist, raising his arm in the air before smashing his elbow into the back of the bird demon’s skull. Mugsy’s face slammed into the pavement, the demon collapsing into a limp pile on the ground. Before the sinner had even settled, Vortex sidstepped and launched a straight snap punch into the hunchback’s face, crushing his hook nose flat with a wet crunch. As the sinner stumbled backwards, his hands to his face, the hellhound stepped forward and hooked a paw behind his back foot, yanking it out and sending cough tumbling backwards. The hunchback, still clutching the lump of skin and bone shards that used to be his nose, grunted as he hit the ground. Gar Cough cried out as Vortex loomed, bloody hand extended. H, have mercy. Vortex decided he didn’t want to hear the grating sound of the faller’s voice anymore and stomped down between his legs, feeling things crunch beneath his paw. A gratifying yowl echoed off the walls of the alley. Cough stopped screaming after a moment and curled into a ball, gurgling and groaning. “How’s that for a trick, Fer?” Vortex said, grinning. The sinners had no witty retort besides vomiting. Phew, Vortex sighed, pulling out another tar stick and lighting it. It’s too late in the day for this sht. H. A shrill, shocked voice replied. He turned to see the boy, the human boy, eyes staring out from behind a thick sheet of curly orange hair, his already pale skin now a palar, his mouth hanging open. Vortex made his way over and crouched, blowing a cloud of smoke into the boy’s face, ceasing his dumbfounded droning with a series of ragged coughs. “You’re human,” Vortex said, reaching out and proddding the lad with a finger. “You feel human. You smell human. What are you doing here?” The human boy waved away the smoke, still coughing. “I I cough cough. I don’t even know where the hell here is.” Yep. What? Hell, Vortex smirked. You got it. The boy turned paler somehow, looking around at the alley, at the sinners, at Vortex. Hell. Hell, said Vortex, nodding. Now you’re going to tell me exactly how you got here. His eyes were narrowed with concern and suspicion. Humans, as in the ones with their original bodies, don’t just show up down here. Something’s gone. F. So, if you please explain. I I I don’t know. The boy cried trying to get up. Honest. I have no idea. I like when did Dash. Time out, kid. Vortex effortlessly shoved the boy back onto his butt. Sit. Don’t move. The hell hound leaned in, sniffing. His hair, his clothes, his skin, his breath. If someone was playing a game, they were going through an awful lot of trouble. Vortex knew the mortal realm, new mortals, their sense. Hell held a particular odor of sulfur and a mild hint of artificial sweetener, clear as a bell and almost impossible to remove. The mortal realm was full of life, proper life, and was rich and dense in its many flavors. This kid was human, all right, perhaps 18 years old, not a version, but hardly Don Juan, and had the unmistakable hygiene practices of a geek. Vortex paused. This sht was way above his pay grade. He didn’t even want to know what had gone down for a human complete with Mitsu to drop into hell, but he knew it had to have been some serious juju. This kid’s heart and wedding tackle would land bank on the wet market. To say nothing of certain other unspoiled sections of his anatomy. Not that Vortex would do such a thing. He was simply postulating the reasons for a human to have been brought to hell. No. Any demon who could pull off such a thing wouldn’t drop their product in an alleyway in Imp City unless something went tips up. Could be said interested parties were on route, ready and willing to make his day even more of a shitow than it already was. He may be Verasica Mayday’s top bodyguard, but bringing a human to hell requires some serious horsepower, the kind that wouldn’t go down with a few well-placed punches. F. Stuff like this could involve the blue bloodoods. Demon royalty. Verasica’s done a few concerts when they’re in attendance. And hold on, Verasica. Maybe if he brought this kid to her, told her what happened, informed her as to the implications, then maybe, just maybe, she’d use her asian crystal to send the ginger headache back where he belonged. Maybe he’d be able to get home in time for dinner with his girl after all. He just needed to check one thing. Vortex suddenly reached out, pushing the cowering boy’s bangs back away from his face. The alley lit up with a glow. Sparkles hung in the air as Vortex felt his decidedly head leaning, mind you, heart skip a beat, his eyes wide, jaw coming unhinged as his cigarette fell out. “Was this what some sinners described as finding God? Or was this finding out that May there’s a little bit of gay in anyone?” “Wo,” he uttered, feeling his cheeks burn up as he shook his head to refocus. He let the bangs fall back in place, shuttering the lad’s beauty. Those intense, intelligent green eyes, that sharp, regal nose, those high cheekbones and elegant, pointed chin, all wrapped up in smooth, pale skin perfectly dusted with freckles like kisses from an angel. The blemishes only adding to the allure. The boy shied away, brushing his hair over his eyes, looking nervous and uncomfortable as vortex loomed to his full height. Yeah. No. His boss and her SLTS would pass this kid around like a joint, quite literally doing him dry until only ashes remained and likely to grind his pelvis into paste while they did. What to do? The hulking hellhound almost jumped when his phone buzzed. It was Verasica. Her text replete with mistakes and incomprehensible autocorrects. He didn’t need to be able to read it to know something was up. If he had to guess, she was probably due with her meeting with King Azie a good deal sooner than she thought. He looked down at the kid, who was still trembling, mouth open with shock as he looked around. Maybe he could just leave him here. Tell him to hide and stay put. Come back for him later. What are the odds some other disgusting perve or BLD hungry cannibal would happen across him? Look out, the boy cried, pointing, “F Hellborn Mut.” Mugsy roared, leaping through the air, talons flexing. Vortex unshathed his angelic Bowie knife, not needing to look as he spun about out of the way of the bird sinner as he lunged by before burying the blade to the handle in the back of the sinner’s skull with a dull thunk. Mugsy’s eyes flashed magenta as his soul was annihilated, his body crumpling to the ground like a stringless puppet. He withdrew the Bowie and flipped it in the air, grabbing it by the blade and throwing it down the alley, straight into the gnarled forehead of cough as he collected himself off the ground. He sighed and walked over, retrieving his knife, the demonic BLD and brain matter sizzling on the holy metal, evaporating completely from its flawlessly polished surface. A high-pitched keening drew his attention. The human boy was staring at Mugy’s corpse, horror and curiosity clear on his face as he nudged the limp body with his sneakershot foot. I is he? The kid squeaked. “De dead?” Vortex rose to his feet, ear flat. What business was it of his? What happened to this BRT? Why should he care? Humans who died more often than not showed up here, becoming sinners, fallers, sht stinking BSTRDs, just like the two he had dispatched. Maybe this kid was just like them. Who knows? Maybe if he bit it down here, he’d be right back a second later. He’s double dead, he drawled. Given he dashed. You didn’t have to kill them, the kid said, his voice suddenly surprisingly fierce as he interrupted the hellhound. You could have just beat them up some more. Vortex blinked, shocked. He’d bet good money this kid didn’t even know those sinners used to be human like him. For all he knew, they were just a pair of monsters. But he still cared. His phone buzzed again. It read to lust double time. I figured up the times Aussy’s weight in AMD pissed. He looked back over to the kid who was cautiously examining the body and side shaking his head. What are you doing, man? This is a bad idea. Assht in idea, he muttered to himself. He set off for the mouth of the ally, grabbing the kid by the scruff and plucking him off the ground as he did. The boy yelped, curling into a ball like a kitten as the enormous hellhound power walked across the parking lot approaching a hot pink Cadillac. His fist thutted against the back of the car and the trunk popped open. In it was a spare tire, stacks of high gloss photos of Verasica for autographs, Natch, and a wide assortment of succubus kit, sec toys, massagers, lube, and fuzzy HNDC FFS. He tossed the kid into the boot, silencing his stammering with a growl. “Listen here, kid,” said Vortex, bearing his fangs. “You stay quiet, you stay still, you don’t draw attention to yourself. I’ll have you out of here in a jify and get you somewhere safe. Until then, you stay put, you stay quiet, and maybe you’ll stay alive.” “Got that?” The boy pressed his lips together, nodding furiously. Good. He reached up to slam the trunk shut. Watch your head. W8. The kid cried. Uh, thanks for uh all that. W what’s your name? Vortex, he replied. You briefers rock, said the kid, trying to smile. My friends call me Brief. Pleased to meet you, brief, said Vortex, his ears perking up as the door flew open. Now, shut up and don’t make a ruckus. With that, he slammed the trunk shut. Verasica was practically running across the parking lot. Get the motor running. He hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Verasica leapt over and sat down, frantically, patting his shoulder. Go, go, go. The Cadillac peeled out of the parking lot, tires squealing as it drifted into traffic and roared down the street. “We heading to Lust.” He said, “Fast as you can,” she said, hurriedly applying lipstick and makeup in the mirror to Azy’s. He’s been waiting for 5 minutes already. If there was one demon who didn’t like to wait, it was as modius except when he was edging. That is still the kid in the back. He knew sinners couldn’t access the other rings. But what about humans? Would the kid in the trunk hit the barrier as they drove through? He once saw what happened when sinners tried to smuggle themselves out of pride. The inside of whatever they were hiding resembled a bomb going off in a hamburger factory. “Uh, hey, my place is on the way,” he said. “Can I drop off some things? Maybe.” “F that.” Verasica snapped. We’re hauling but to lust. No stops. We keep him waiting any longer and it’s your holes and mine. He’s Fstng tonight, Texi. That clear? Vortex grimaced, hoping that the kid would be all right, but also now preoccupied with the possibility his plans for tonight would involve a very different kind of romance. Crystal floor it. The line to the elevator was brutal as usual, but being Verasica Mayday had its perks. A flash of a smile and her ID, and they were quickly shuffled off into the VIP lane. The Cadillac rolled onto the platform, the succubus heaving a relieved sigh. Few, she said, delicately dabbing the sweat from her brow as not to smudge her makeup. Making good time. Sweet driving back there. Texas getting us up on two wheels to slip between traffic. Mwah. He smirked as best he could. This old dog still had some tricks. Still, now that he was probably not going to be getting fisted to death by a 15-t tall prince of sin, his thoughts drifted inexorably back to the human BRT in the trunk. He hoped the kid would be okay, but if he wasn’t, it’ probably be his job to clean up the mess after. Wouldn’t leave much time to make dinner. DMN. Nebula would be pissed. What would he tell Verasica when they popped the trunk to find over a 100 pounds of mayapure? Sorry, ma’am. He imagined himself saying. Maybe say some faller must have gotten in there. Yeah, yeah, that’s why I was at the trunk when she came out. Like, I heard something and was checking it out, but we had to run. She’d buy that. Hey, she said, examining her burly bodyguard. You got BLD on you? Oh. Oh. He looked down at his hands, stre with BLD and splatters of his crisscrossed his vest. Uh, yeah. Tuned up some fallers while I was having my smoke. She eyed him up for a moment, leaning in, sniffing. You smell like a human. Sht. He shrugged, hoping he was maintaining his chill demeanor. They must have been fresh. Real fresh, she said, her eyes narrowing. You seem nervous. His ears went flat, glancing over at her with his good eye, fingers digging into the leather cover on the steering wheel, saying nothing. Verasica studied him for a moment before a smile spread across her face. You are nervous, huh? Guess I finally know what it takes to break through that cool exterior of yours. Don’t sweat it, Texi. Aussie is actually pretty chill. Few uh Yeah. Yeah. That’s a Well, it’s not every day someone like me meets, you know, one of the seven deadly sins. Verasica chuckled and shook her head, patting his rippling shoulder, her hand lingering just a smidge too long. Don’t worry your handsome little head about it, Vortex. All you got to do is answer his questions and look pretty. He’ll have filled up on chewing out my peach before he gets to you. Right. The platform lurched as the elevator moved down. Vortex waited anxiously as they approached the barrier. Best case scenario, the kid would be fine and he’d have to do whatever the f it was he was going to do with him. Worst case, well, he’d just have to work late hosing out the trunk. The barrier buzzed up through the platform, the car, its occupants. A sensation not unlike a sweep of static. His ear cocked back, listening for any wet, meaty sounds, screams, or whatever it was the barrier did to sinners. Nothing. Either it don’t work on humans, or it just does what it does quietly, he thought to himself. Guess I’ll find out. The platform shuddered as they came to a stop, the bay doors opening, disgorgging the countless vehicles parked there. Verasica’s VIP status allowed her to bypass the toll booth and customs completely, the Cadillac speeding off towards the highway. Before long, they were at Azy’s, the surprisingly restrained abode of the king of lust. Through some magic or spell, or just some very savvy city planning, go straight in lust for long enough and you’d wind up at Azy’s eventually. From the outside, it looked like any bigname club, a really bigname one with a massive neon sign, a steeple tent roof, and a literally unending line of attendees waiting outside. While flashy and suitably hopping for a club, it hardly looked to be the throne of a king of hell. Other icons of sin, like Belelfagore and Mammon, had enormous, garish palaces of quite literally mountainous size. While Vortex didn’t doubt that As Modius himself had a preposterously lavish estate somewhere, his personal club gave the impression of a tasteful patron of the lustful arts, at least on the outside. Vortex had heard there were levels below the venue, allowing one to quite literally sink into the depths of depravity and hedonism. The sort of stuff Yulo would deem a Natsf FRSKN outside our budget. The Cadillac rolled to a stop outside the underground parking area. Verasica getting them in with a glance and a scowl. They pulled into her spot and Vortex shut off the engine as his boss hurriedly got out. “Come on, text,” she said, heading for the entrance. “You can wait in the lounge while I tongue Azy’s ball. Lube him up for.” “Yeah.” He was about 60% sure she was being facicious, but only that. Actually, boss, I was feeling a bit of play in the front left wheel. Mind if I give it a look? Uggh. GF this day. Yeah, sure. Do your thing? She groaned, exacerbated before flicking him her VIP card, which he caught. I don’t need it. They know me here. Flash that and you’ll get anywhere and anything you like. Put it on my tab. Just don’t let me walk out of Azy’s office and catch you bald deep in some fem. He smiled on the outside at this, putting the card in his pocket. Thanks, boss. Can I get you anything at the bar? Ever clear ttty twister. No ice, she called out as she booked it across the parking garage. Double strength. Vortex waited a few moments after she was through the door just in case she barged back in. When she didn’t, he hurried over to the trunk, hesitating for a second before swinging it open. The kid was still there, all in one piece. Somehow between here and there, the kid had managed to dawn a pair of fuzzy HNDCFs, fuzzy shackles on his ankles, and a bone-shaped ball. GG. At some point, he’d even managed to get peppered with lipstick kiss marks, likely from the mouth-shaped flesh presently nestled between his legs. “Thank goodness,” he sighed. “Smooth ride, kid. Mhr mhg r.” He mumbled through the GG. Vortex chuckled and unlocked the cuffs and shackles. Brief wasted no time in undoing the GG and spitting it out. Did we just run a Hot Wheels course? Where did you learn to drive? Hell. Oh, right. All right, kid. There’s been a slight detour, said Vortex, looking around. I don’t know how long we’re going to be here, but it’s really, really f important that you don’t make a scene. This is a bad place for a human to be. Where are we? Vortex paused. What would be the best way to get this kid to not f about and find out? We’re in the ring of lust where is a family film and Clive Barker is considered quaint. Specifically, we’re at the personal club of Asodius, the king and personification of lust. If you get found here, well, you’re a geek. You know about 40k. Brief gulped and nodded. Are we talking dark Elar or Slainish? Nerd. Vortex shook his head. Kid, imagine that but 10 times worse and it’s not fictional. So yeah, shut up. Vortex reached up to shut the trunk when brief stopped him. What if I have to pee? Don’t brief. Mm. Can I at least have something to read? th that isn’t PWN preferably. Vortex side and rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his personal phone here. Password is YULA4 EVR. Keep it muted. Don’t take any calls or answer any texts. And no streaming sites. If my data bill is F this month, I’ll know it was you. He bared his fangs at the end for emphasis. Why yes, sir. Brief stammered, nodding. Th Thank you, sir. The black fitted hound sighed, and his later intimidation aura settled down. He couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed with this kid for long, it seems. Whatever. With that, he slammed the trunk shut and made his way for the entrance. What the f am I doing? Azies was packed, of course, but not crowded. Every table was full or reserved, but no one was walking over each other. Hellborn of means lounged about. Celebrities and high-end crime lords rubbed shoulders. Important officials of the Goishia regime sat opposite lesser royals discussing whatever. Vortex flashed the VIP card and took a seat at the bar. The bartender grunted and eyed up the hellhound, reaching under the bar and producing a bottle of Cberus Logger. Vortex nodded, smirking. Maybe it was a stereotype, but he couldn’t deny his love of the stuff. The bartender capped the bottle and pushed it his way before going back to cleaning glasses. Vortex took a hearty slug of the brew, savoring the bitter, slightly savory flavor. He sighed in relief as the 16% alcohol warmed his gullet. He turned around and drank in the sights as he nursed his beer. Girls and boys ground on poles to thuting RTC base as patrons motioned on the dance floor. Booze and DRGS and magic flowed as the first layer of Aussies hopped. He noticed various patrons breaking off from the festivities, either heading up to the private rooms in the loft or to an elevator to take them to the lower, more permissive levels. As a hellhound, Vortex would admit to a degree of curiosity as to what exactly went on in the lower levels, what depravity and hedonism could possibly be seen as in poor taste for the main floor. He shuddered at the hypotheticals his mind conjured, deciding that even with Verasica’s card and her footing the tab, there were just some things he just didn’t care to know. Moving hastily on from the mental image he had given himself, he ruminated instead on the turn his life had taken as of late. There was a fing human kid in his trunk and one clearly in hell against his will. He took a bigger swig, grimacing. Where had he come from? Earth, duh. But how? As Median crystals, the likes of which Succubi used to reach the mortal realm were out of the question. By design, they could not allow a human’s physical form to manifest in hell. That left a goian grimmooire and the portals they conjured, or maybe even some other mystical dua, a lowly hound like him, could never even imagine. That alone narrowed the list of potential culprits down to particularly ambitious overlords, the Goishia, or some other horrifyingly powerful member of Lucifer’s inner circle, like the Nephilim, the Somayaza, or the F7. Humans don’t just show up in hell. after all. So, someone out there brought him here. When the list of suspects starts at walking nightmare and gets worse from there, it was time to throw in the towel or ask for a pay bump at least. Speaking of pay, or rather the person who paid him, a familiar brand of perfume began to make itself known in the air. Barkeep. One everclear TTTY twister, double strength. The barkeep grunted, nodding. He pulled out a bottle of grain alcohol and poured two shots into a mixer, followed by a double shot of lemon juice and a full pipet of wrath pepper tincture. He shook the vial mixture and poured it into a tall glass filled with ice, flicking it forward. Vortex grabbed the glass and slid it off to his side as Verasica Mayday took the stool next to him, wordlessly grabbing the glass and knocking the whole thing back in a single swig. Another one, she hissed, grimacing. And don’t skimp on the heat. Tip F. The bartender whistled, impressed, and mixed another. So said Vortex. How’d it go? Oh, the usual, she said early. Made me get on my knees and beg for my life and the integrity of my holes, kiss his feet, lick his boots, blah blah blah. You know, the usual formalities that tracked. What did he want to talk about? quarterly review, term goals, album sales, and potential venues for my next tour. Also, he wants me to drop by tomorrow night for a guest appearance. Probably a private show for a buddy or some sht like that, she said, grabbing her second drink, electing to actually sip it this time. Oh, yeah. He wants me to compose the score for the next big Valentino FF fest. So that’ll mean spending time at the studios working with the director and writer, which means he nodded. You’ll need some security. Some extra security, she said, winking at him. Apparently Val’s been in a shtf in mood ever since his bottom be bailed on him. Not that I don’t trust your mad skills. We’ll just need some extra muscle. That’s what he wants to talk to you about. See if you can recommend anyone or vet the selection at least. Can you think of any bad boys down for a good time and a fat paycheck? Vortex nodded. A few. When does he want to talk to me? ASAP, she said, smirking. And unless you want your sphinct to become an O-ring, you’ll knock back that dog PSS double time and head on up. Vortex knocked the leader bottle back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he chugged. He wiped off his muzzle with a light burp and got to his feet. Back in a bit, man. Don’t drop the soap. He pretended he couldn’t feel her eyes on his rump as he walked away or hear her mutter. Hate seeing him leave lu of watching him go. Vortex ascended the staircase to the upper mezzanine, walking through another smaller VIP lounge. Powerful demons watched him pass by, grinning toothfully as he approached the entrance to their MSDR’s office. It was immense, an ornate Gothic double door some 20 ft high with glowing stained glass windows that leared like lustful eyes. He cleared his throat and reached out to knock when the next instant he found himself inside, standing before a carved oak desk the size of a panel van. stooping behind the desk, dressed in a broad-shouldered blue vest, was as modious, manifestation of the sin of lust and one of the seven kings of hell itself. He was immense, 15 ft tall and built like a truck with a huge glowing teal mane in which his two additional faces flickered like ghosts. His face, his proper one that is, was caned down, his expression neutral, the quill in his hand bobbed and weaved, pen scratching paper. The doors open, he said, his voice deep in Sonoris. Come in. Uh, he held up a tone finger the size of an imps’s arm, prompting Vortex to shut his mouth with a kop. For some time, the only sound in the office was the dry scratching of quill and parchment. He hung to himself as he finished up whatever it was he was doing, signing it with an elegant flourish. Ah. The Titanic rooster demon smiled and held up the paper. evidently pleased with it. Magnafi here. What do you think? On the parchment was an admittedly exquisite portrait of Vortex. He was spled out on an appealing shea lounge, one arm resting on the cushion over his head, the other coetishly brushing his ear back. On his face, an expression of aroused vulnerability. He wore a heart-shaped diamond necklace and nothing else. Vortex noted with a degree of concern that as Modius even added the star-shaped spot he bore on his upper inner thigh. Nebula had dubbed it her lucky star because it always led her where she wanted to go. Not many people knew about that particular birthmark. It’s uh very detailed, said Vortex before remembering. Uh your majesty taxi please. As Modius tittered, casually blowing hellfire into the parchment, incinerating it, the ash and smoke dancing in the air before vanishing entirely. Call me Azie. Air. Yes, you. Uh, yes, Aussie. Thank you, Vortex very badly wanted a drink right then. Are you all right? The massive demon king said, sounding convincingly concerned. You look a bit flush. I’m fine, thank you. Nervous? He cruned, a hint of that predatory glee creeping into his voice. Care for a drink? I Vortex looked down at his hand in it a tall cool glass of amber logger. Thanks. He sipped it Cberus Logger Natch and as Modius spoke. You’re probably wondering why I called you in here. Well, you see, I’ve been watching you for quite some time now, Texi. Quite some time. Oh, my sweet little sour peach. Siki goes on and on about your talents. Singing your praises like a codup canary laws. Yes, she swears up and down. You could guard a burger from Beelub herself. What do you think of that, Texi? I think she’s being extremely generous, sir, he said, setting the beard down on the armrest. I’m a good bodyguard. I’ll brag that much. I have an eye for faces and a nose for trouble, but I know my scope. Oh, I agree, said as Modius, weaving his fingers together. Good or no, you’re still just a hellhound, and my little pop princess will need a lial more horsepower if she’s going to waltz about Valentino’s studio. Not that I think that Kotra in a pimp suit would try anything. You understand? It’s just that Siki can rub some people the wrong way, especially when she’s composing. If by rubs the wrong way, you mean she has the personality of a cheese grater. Yeah, that’s Verasica, he didn’t say. Instead, saying, I’ll do what I can to keep her safe. As Modia’s smile widened, you wouldn’t object to accepting a little backup, would you? Not at all. How would you feel about working with sinners? He shrugged. Depends on how they feel about working with me. Good answer. As Modius winked. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they know who’s boss. Vortex cocked his head. Boss, sir. That’s right, Texi. He reached down, poking Vortex in his broad chest with a white tone the size of his Bowie knife. I’m making it official. You’ll be head of security detail while Verasica is composing the soundtrack. You set the schedules. You scope out the locations. You select your team. You’ll be the boss. The big shot. You say jump. They’ll ask off which bridge. If any of them give you lip, give you sass. As Modius chuckled, his voice deepening, taking on a flanging booming quality as his enormous hand curled into a mid the size of a ball. and I’ll shove my fist right up there as is. Sound good? Vortex blinked, shocked head of security. A boss him. Uh, you’ll be entitled to a substantial raise. Of course, said as Modius, leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled. To make it worth your time. I I don’t know what to say, my lord. I dash. Azie, darling. the tall demon prince oiled. And yes, would be nice. Yes, thank you if you really want to butter my biscuits. Aussie, um, forgive me, sir. I I appreciate this greatly, and I won’t let you down, Vortex said. Yes, thank you. I’m so glad we are in agreement, my hecken doggo chuckled as Modius before clapping his hand to his cheek, a modlin look of shock on his face. Oh, but look at you. Your shoulders look so tense, and those stress lines. You’re wound tighter than an imp in a cberous kennel. He smirked, leaning in as Vortex felt the professional pride burn away before the learing rooster fallen. Why don’t you stick around? Relax and unwind for a spell. I, the hound, gulped. I would love to, Aussie, but I had other arrangements planned for tonight, sir. Oh, I’m sure they can wait. Too much stress is bad for you. You know, Azie purred, his talents clicking along his desk as he loomed over the hound. If you like, I can call some of my finest massus. They are experts at working out tension. I have a girlfriend, sir. Vortex blurted out. The rooster demon cocked his head as though trying to connect these two concepts. No offense, but she’s got first dibs on all my stress and tension, and she gets territorial. The ghostlike skulls looked back at each other and then at Vortex, clearly perplexed. So, you swing one way then, as Modia said, confused, then amused. Well, spaghetti straight before it gets wet, isn’t it? Maybe, sir, but if I’m going to enjoy my time in lust, I’d rather have my girl with me when I do. As a couple’s night, Vortex said, feeling pressured and his heart pounding in his chest as he was firing this sht on the fly. I guess you could say I’m old-fashioned. Please take it. Please take it. Please, please, please, he mentally prayed. The towering demon shrugged. Ha. Verasica was right about you, Texi,” he giggled, poking at his chest. “You are one tough nut to bust. I can only imagine the gooey goodness you and your lady indulge in.” He purred as he began to slide Vortex’s chin with said Talon, his emerald hellfirel-like eyes looking right into Vortex, singular red one. “And I have a very vivid imagination. When will this night f end?” Oh yes, Aussie. We go hog wild. Let me tell you. The hellhound barked out a laugh, hoping it sounded authentic. Can’t buy what she’s selling. Not even here. Careful now, Texi. You have my curiosity, but talk like that might get my attention. Anyway, in that case, don’t let Lil Me keep you. You’ll hear from me through Verasica. She’ll have my instructions to relay to you as well. The rooster demon leaned back in his swave heart-shaped chair before leaning forward again suddenly. Oh, wait. One more thing. She mentioned how you seemed very anxious on the ride down here. Why? You even had the sheer audacity to ask for a detour. Ho ho. Vortex felt ice cold as as Modius continued to talk. And keep me waiting. His side skulls glared at him, but his main head kept smirking, a predatory gleam in his lantern eyes. Enlighten me then. What could possibly compel a demon to take such a risk? Those arrangements I mentioned, sir, Vortex replied. It’s something me and my girlfriend have been planning for a few weeks now. A hound party for tomorrow night. There some truth. I promised her I’d help her pick out the music, food, and all that jazz. I keep my promises. whom punctual, dedicated, loyal, even when planning fun. As Modius nodded as one of his side skulls looked to the side and perked up with joy. The massive demon grabbed his phone and glanced, smiling. Very well, off you pop. I have my own plans and plots. Don’t let me keep you, you adorable wittle puper. You, he cruned, pinching Vortex’s cheek with 8-in alabaster talons. Ouch. T. Thank you, my low. I mean Azie vortex rose from his chair and bowed for your time and the job. Don’t mention it muscles as modius cruned a crawling across all his faces. Be sure to send your girlfriend my regards. Bring her around sometime. She must be quite a woman that Ula. Vortex felt his guts churn like icy snakes. He even knew her nickname. She’s really something. We’d be honored, sir. The demon prince nodded, dialing the phone and shoeing him away. Vortex walked calmly towards the door, and he stumbled onto the dance floor, surrounded by coked up patrons, now on the main level. He looked up at the mezzanine as an incubus dressed only in glow rings ground into his lap. Seeing Azy’s entourage cackling with vicious amusement, a chill raced up his spine and he power walked to the bar, collecting his now very sousted boss. Time to get the f out of here. Azie set down the phone. The V’s correspondent had sounded very pleased to deliver the good news to their bosses. The Vulgarians had some choice info for him, and he was happy to pay their meager price if it meant he could get his talents on his wayward agent. That masochistic fool had cost him dearly, and one way or another, as Modius would get his satisfaction. The door swung inward with a tabang, kicked open by a retracting mechanical leg. Two articulated metal arms streaked in, long and thin, coiling on themselves like ribbons. A slender, brightly colored imp rushed into his office, spinning and twirling along the coils of his arms like a car on a roller coaster. He launched himself through the air, pulling into a backwards somersault and landing on his desk with a clownish flourish. Only one being in all of hell was so bold. Fitzeri, hell’s most famous entertainer. Wo ho ho he a big Aussie. Fizz crowed, pulling into a fid bow, his mechanical arm extending and coiling behind his back, waggling his fingers in greetings. back from my big show in pride and thought I’d give my big bad pee pe a doodle a tickle. As Modius smiled, nothing could bring a true grin to his face like his cap ring little love clown. Fizzy pop. How was Helsa’s birthday party? Eig, the cybernetic jester grumbled, folding his arms. Seviathan von Eldrich crashed it. literally crashed a jet fighter right through the roof of the main hall and stumbled out with some bimbo high off his butt. He and Helsa started scrapping right there on the dance floor. Looked like a tornado of tentacles and teeth. Dismembered like 30 guests by accident. Overall, six out of 10. Pretty mid-party, he said with a wave of a flat hand. Oh, sorry to hear that, said Asodius. Contrite. Freddy called in a favor. And you know me, a big old softy. I’ll make sure your next gig is something worthy of your talents. Eh, wasn’t all bad. Managed to bang a few stuffy broads. Introduced a princling to butt stuff on House’s pillow. So, not a total loss. Haha, he said, his nimble prosthetics flowing through all the appropriate gesticulations. a manic grin on his face. I’ll let Cha know if she gets Pink Eye in a day or two. As Modius chuckled and offered his hand, the flexible cyborg slithered up his arm like a snake and pllopped down on his shoulder. Saw Siko and her dishy doggy pulling out of here. She back on the sauce again or what? Oh no. Well, yes, but that’s not why I called them in here. Them? Fitzeri inquired, bells jingling as he cocked his head. You talk to the dog now. Now, Fizzy, as Modius chided playfully, scratching his chin with a talone. His name is Vortex. He’s just very upright. Fitzer’s face curled into a malicious lear. More fun to bend over and break in then. Haha. In time, monkey. But for now, he’ll do as Verasica’s head of security while she’s working with the V’s. The cyborg imp whipped his head towards him fast, eyes wide. Wait, wait, wait, hold up, Fitzurali said, actually surprised. A hellhound will be guarding Siko from sinners. Don’t get me wrong, the pooch looks like he’s got a mean bite, but the V’s don’t hire chumps. as Modius sighed and shook his head. They wanted Verasica to compose a soundtrack for their next big smut picture for publicity or something. Putting that Lunk in charge was the only way she’d agree to it, he said with a shrug, sitting in his heart chair. “Oh,” Fitzurali cruned, hands to his cheeks in faux scandal. “Does Siko want to play Boy Scouts with Rinten Tank?” As Modius cocked an eyebrow, curious Playboy scouts, Fitzurali’s arms coiled and twisted into a familiar, very canine shape, giggling maliciously before licking his lips. Tyen knots as Modius threw his head back and laughed hardily, fist slamming down on the robust desk with seismic force, shaking Aussies on its foundations. Aaha, that’s a good one. Oh, Fizzy Pop, you always know how to make me laugh. Oh, but yes, I assume he’s very faithful to his girlfriend, you see. And I bet he’s been stonewalling Siki for some time now. You know how she is when she doesn’t get what she wants. Oh, Vortex, save me from the awful, awful sinners, Fitzurali warbled in a crude falsetto, making big wide puppy eyes as he prayed. Make me feel safe with your big, fat, throbbing hay. Wait a minute. His act over. He turned back to his patron and lover with confusion on his face. Why you haven’t Verasica composed sht for the V’s? That Valentino ankle grabbers your biggest rival in pride. As Modius sighed and reclined in his seat, Vox, that flickering flat-faced fool saw something with his network. Something important. Something of mine. Verasica creating a soundtrack for their smut epic was their price and one I was happy to pay. Wo Fitzurali whistled impressed. Must be real valuable for you to give those peasants the time of day. Oh yes, Fizzy Pop. Very important. As Modius growled, his titanic demonic might cause the air to ionize, his bottomless fury bubbling to the surface as electricity sparked across every metal surface in the room. Now, I’m not one to step on Old Scratch’s hooves. But for this particular person, well, I think I’ll borrow the crown of wrath for a spell. Huh? Fitzer said, only slightly unnerved at the demon king’s barely contained fury. Revenge, Sugarborg, as Modia said sweetly, patting him on the head. Retribution. An old friend has dropped in from out of town, and daddy’s bout make a peachy call. Fitzurali’s face split into a vicious smile, his eyes lighting up. Can I watch? You can film it. As Modius bellowed, getting to his feet and heading for the door. It’s going to be my magnumopus. Violation on a scale that will shake lust to its very foundations. Fitzeri clapped and cackled, dancing about on the enormous arch devil’s shoulder as he burst through the doorway, his sheer might scattering his awaiting entourage like leaves in a gale, sending them tumbling from the mezzanine on a surge of lightning and thunder. “Oh yes,” the demon king thought, his vile mind whirling with unfathomable depravity. “If I can’t plunder the holy maiden head, I’ll just amuse myself with your tight peach. I’ll do things that’ll break even at MSCST of your caliber. Corset Vortex carried the belching mumbling succubus across the parking garage, setting her in the passenger seat as she groused about having to call her technicians last minute and on and on. A thump from the trunk sent his heart leaping into his throat. What now? Belatedly, he recalled the actual fum kid hiding back there. In all the excitement, or more accurately, terror of recent events, he’d somehow completely forgotten. Tired. Dread settled in as he contemplated how exactly he was going to pitch this mess to Ula. Nebula was a sensible hellhound, strong as the pillars of wrath, and twice as imposing when she wanted to be. How would she react to all this [ __ ] he was about to pile into her dish? One way to find out, he thought tiredly. F. Is this BRT even worth the headache? He hopped into the driver’s seat and pulled out. Before long, they were on their way to the elevator and heading back to Pride. The Cadillac pulled into Verasica’s estate, lured statues of the egotistical succubus lining the driveway leading up to the mansion. He handed his snoozing boss off to her staff, ba his fond farewells, and drove the caddy to the garage where his truck was waiting in one of the stalls. He sniffed the air. None of the people smells in there were fresh. He was alone. He walked around back and popped the trunk. The kid was curled up, fast asleep, his phone in his hand. Vortex smiled warmly. He couldn’t help it. Ever since coming here, the kid understandably vacasillated between total confusion and utter terror. But seeing him like this, peaceful, calm, made a strange, unfamiliar warmth blossom in his chest, totally worth it. He gingerely picked Brief up, careful not to wake him, and placed him in the back seat, wrapping him in a blanket and buckling his seat belt. How would Yula react? Only one way to find out. Either in my bed or on the couch. I’m sleeping like a brick tonight, he thought, his truck rumbling to life. But I’ll sleep easy. The truck pulled up to his home in the dead of night. It was a nice place, two stories with a small deck and a fenced in front and backyard, perfect for hound parties. Between his generous pay from Verasica and Yula’s job as a baker in Gluttony, they could easily afford the rent with money to spare for spending and saving. It was their dream to go in on a similar place sometime in the future, have a house of their own. And who knows, maybe with this pay bump he was expecting, perhaps that dream was closer than he thought. It was well and truly late by the time he got there, allowing him some hope that Ula had turned in for the night. Vortex stepped out of the truck, careful not to slam the door, and made his way to the back seat. brief, still fast asleep, had curled the blanket around himself, snoring softly. Carefully, the hulking hellhound wrapped the sleeping boy up in the blanket, swaddling him as to conceal him from any prying eyes. He carried him over to the door, pulled out his keys, and stealthily unlocked the door, slipping in and closing it just as silently. It was dark. All the lights were out. Yula was asleep. Good. one less thing to worry about tonight. He walked forward in wide, careful steps, avoiding any and all creaky floorboards. He was halfway across the living room and towards the guest room when the light flicked on. Vortex swore under his breath and turned to see his girlfriend, Nebula, or Ula for short, standing in the doorway to the adjoining kitchen, her strong, thick arms folded across her buxom chest. Her long silver hair was tied up in a net, and she was dressed in her long flowing night gown. Not that it did anything to obscure her Venuian figure. She worked as a baker in gluttony and had a healthy appetite on top of that, but such things were hardly a deterrent for Vortex. If anything, she filled out in all the right ways to get his motor running. But right now, such things were about as far from his mind as possible. hers too, if her expression was anything to go by. Hey babe, don’t you? Hey babe, me.” She barked, marching over to him, her red and white eyes boring into him. Where the f have you been? I’ve been calling all night. What happened? The bundle in his arms murmured and stirred. Shu, don’t you dare shove me. Vortex. I She sniffed the air, brow furrowing. What’s that smell? Smells like vortex. What’s that you’re holding? Be quiet, babe. He hissed, walking over to the couch. He’s sleeping. Don’t wake him up. Taxi, she said for boatingly. That better not be what I think it is. You know, our landlord doesn’t allow pets. Vortex smiled softly as he lay the bundle down. I know. Oh, don’t you think you can charm me with some greed lion cub or whatever big eyed stray you’ve picked up this time? No means no. If that little beast scratches the floor or burns down the shed, there goes our damaged deposit and our ases right after. So, you better pack that critter up and get it. Her voice trailed off as he stepped away to reveal the figure on the couch. What a human? A short, skinny human boy with a mop of ruddy curls at top his pale head, fast asleep and snoring softly. His name is brief, said Vortex, still kneeling next to the kid. Hell be staying with us for a bit. Where? How? She stammered, eyes wide. What? What are you doing? Her arms held out in disbelief, pointing between Vortex and the BRT. Shu, what are you doing? She whispered shouted. Bringing him here of all places. And what the f is he even doing in hell? What’s going on? Did that be Verasica put you up to this? I don’t know. Probably not, whispered Vortex, remaining calm despite his lover being anything but at the moment. Kid literally just fell out of the sky right next to me. Some sinners went after him and I had to step in. Did you? Nebula hissed. Did you really have to, babe? Come on. They were going to eat him. Or worse. Vortex turned back to brief. Probably worse. I couldn’t do him like that. The plumphound girl rubbed her forehead as though to ward off a migraine. A human in hell. Tex. She snapped. That doesn’t just happen. What do you think will happen to us when whoever brought him here comes looking for him? I’ll tell you what, you and I get made into fth throw rugs. Get him out of here. The taller hound took a deep breath, centering himself. Ula, baby, I can’t do that, he said, getting to his feet. He won’t last 5 seconds out there before some PMP or cannibal or SDST gets a hold of him. Better him than us. She growled before setting a hand on his shoulder, taking a deep breath to calm down. Text: Look, I know you feel bad for him. You have a good heart. It’s what I love about you, but this is a whole mess we really should steer clear of. He’s dangerous. Can’t you see that? He’s just a kid. A human kid,” she whispered desperately. “Whoever brought him here, one can bring a human to hell, and two did it for a reason. That’s two reasons why we should get him as far away from us as possible.” Vortex turned to the sleeping teen and then back to Nebula, sighing. “I didn’t want to do this, but I guess I have no choice.” “What?” Nebula said as Vortex walked back over to the boy, kneeling down next to him. “What are you?” He reached out and gently brushed back his thick, curly red bangs. The living room lit up, sparkles hanging in the air, shimmering. Ula’s eyes went wide and glossy as the nysical force of the boy’s beauty radiated out at her. Vortex smirked and moved his hand, the thick curly locks shuttering his face once more. Ula stood spellbound, hands clapped over her mouth. “Well,” Vortex said, cocking an eyebrow. “Still want to throw him to the fallers. I know a cannibal joint across town that had paid top dollar for.” Her hand shot out and clapped him across the back of his head. “Ow! Ula! Shu!” she hissed, rushing over to the slumbering human boy. You’ll wake him up. Carrying on like that, she tenderly collected his limp form and picked him up, cradling the comparatively tiny figure in her arms, tucking him under the impressive shelf of her rack. Lucky BSTRD. Come on, little guy. Let’s get you tucked into a real bed, she said softly, smiling down at him and stroking his head. Ain’t no one going to hurt this angel while I’m around. You’re that brief mhm. Brief murmured, still asleep. Thank you, Mamm. The silver-haired hound tittered like a school girl, looking over at Vortex, her eyes so huge and liquid he actually thought she was about to cry. She pulled him close and made off for the spare bedroom, whispering sweet nothings to the boy. “Oh, look at you. You’re so thin. Poor thing,” she cooed. In the morning, I’m going to fix you up a proper breakfast. That’s right. Get some meat on those bones. You like pancakes. You’ll love my pancakes. And some ham and eggs with freshlysqueezed OJ and hash browns fried up nice and crispy. You like the sound of that, baby? She nuzzled her nose against the boy, smiling serenely. Vortex raised an eyebrow. On one hand, man, he’s envious. On the other, seeing Nebula act this way didn’t feel all too bad. Sunny side, yup, brief mumbled. Please, any which way you like, sweetie. Vortex smiled as he watched her tuck the kid in. Despite it all, this was the moment he was most dreading. He chided himself in retrospect. Nebula was the most big-hearted, carrying hellhound this side of the pentagram. She talked a good game and was sensibly wary given where they lived, but there was no way she’d have turned the kid away. Mind-bending cuteness or not. When she was done and the kid was in bed, she slipped out of the spare room and closed the door. She turned to Vortex and let out a sigh before her expression turned severe. Serious. Tell me everything that happened today. Vortex groaned. Can it wait until morning? Vortex? he sighed, shoulders slumping as he leaned against the wall. Right. So there I was, having a smoke in the alley outside work several hours prior. Over the dark red skies of Pentagram City, Corset screamed as he plummeted to the ground, landing smack dab in the middle of a park with its trees and grass as dead as can be thanks to negligence and deliberate poisoning. Half of the point of a park in hell was ruining it for others. The tall blue skinned incubi rose from the crater, groaning as he stretched and popped some bones back into place, his mangled joints and shattered limbs returning to their natural state. “Act that’s going to leave a mark,” he uttered before his ringed eyes widened. He looked around, his eyes snapping open wide. “Where’s that DMNBRT?” He looked left and right as he crawled out of the hole he made, but no sign. and he looked around him. Uggh. I’m in Pentagram City, but this is Southside, the ghetto. I’m supposed to be in West Central. Guh, I must be getting rusty with my portaly. He brushed the dirt off of his suit, and what few people are around the park, the blue- skinned demon can see. Plenty of hellborn went about their business, but they all deferred to the real masters of Pentagram City, the largest circle city in Pride, sinners. For while Hellborn could accumulate power in many ways via money, connections, and fame, just like any sinner, it was the sinner’s souls that lent them their great power. Their souls were eternal and nigh indestructible, meaning that barring angelic weaponry, sinners were immortal. It was also from their souls that sinners could absorb and concentrate vast wells of demonic essence, either through duels or deals with other demons. Your average sinner was little better than your average hellborn. But every sinner had the potential to become an overlord, a demon powerful enough to skirt the border between rabble and royalty. For hellborn, of course, its high status, even an overlord was just another prattling demon. For his family had the ear of king as Modius himself, given leave to operate on earth, incubi, and suibi, such as he harvested lustful energies for their king and fostered sin in his name. Every soul corrupted by lust empowered their king upon damnation. The stored energies within rung out and consumed as the soul was cast into pride to be Lucifer’s play thing. That’s how it was done usually. But then Corset came on the scene all those eons ago. When a soul went to hell, the sins it had accumulated were siphoned off as energy for their corresponding manifestation of sin, sustaining their terrible power. However, through a proprietary method, Corset had discovered how to ensnare souls on Earth as ghosts. These trapped souls would go mad, festering in their own regrets and grudges, their sins percolating within them like fermenting wine. No matter how these ghosts were eventually exercised, be it through holy rituals, self-actualization, divine weaponry, Ghostbusters, or whatever, the soul, ripe to bursting with sin and frustration, would unleash a powerful surge of aged, molding sin upon entering hell. This ghost energy was deemed exquisitly nourishing to the seven deadly sins. And for his efforts, Corset was set to rise up above even the Goishia in power and prestige. But only if he accomplished this one last mission, the big one. The one that would mindbreak creation. He reached into his pocket, his phone damaged as the flip screen crumbled in his claws. The furious demon growled and threw it to a nearby trash bin. Walking towards the sidewalk, I will have to acquire a new phone and find the hell’s monkey. Dash, he froze. Yes, the hell’s monkey. The all great key that unlocks hell to the living world. The key that was inside Briefers Rock’s pages. He had him in his hands. Finally, after so many close calls and abject failures, his salvation was there, wriggling in his grasp. And then that DMNBRT punched him in the eye, kicked him in the ball, and pushed him away as they plummeted through the veil. The two of them bouncing off the sides of the portal like pinballs. The small comfort of the situation was that meant he’s here in hell, too. But where? If he could just find him, DRG him by his unholy PP and toss him at his modius ky booted feet, he would be redeemed rewarded even. At the very least, he might not be executed for his failure or worse. Worse, Corset pondered exactly what the king of lust would do in the throws of Blue Ball. What depths of savage violation he could inflict. Corset felt something quite alien to him, a surge of horror and disgust. I failed my mission. I promised my king the celestial maiden head. And if he’s denied that, hell inflict his pleasures on me. Corset was suddenly gripped with paranoia, looking around as imps and leviathans went about their business, deafly avoiding sinners. Pentagram City was the sinner’s main hot spot after all. They could care less of Imp City in Houndsville and the other circle cities in pride. Perhaps there was a chance his descent went unnoticed. He sculpted into an alleyway and did his best to steady his breathing, his claws scratching at the tight, itchy bindings crushing his sides. Everything that was built on Earth, the ghosts, the demon sisters, his vast business empire in Dayton City and Odin City. All of it was built thanks to the connections made by his patron, Lord as Modius of the Seven Deadly Sins, King of the Lust ring, and a manifestation of sin. Corset was his most effective and loyal manager of operations, entrusted with finding and cultivating the last generation of the Rock family in Dayton City so that the Hell’s Monkey could be used for his Modius ultimate goal. To say this had been an investment on his Legion’s part was an understatement. Corset even went to Odin City himself to see the job through. Odin and Dayton being the two cities on earth that are closest to both heaven and hell, the perfect places to stage his operation. And he was so close. Using that blond be angel’s pieces to lure in that BRT. Using his most powerful ghosts to capture him for good. And he even had the help of that fallen angel stalking as well. But no, he had to come along with that green mut that LWD priest and those DMN traders [ __ ] hissed. So much time and energy went into making those flooies. Two for them to have gone rogue. No one would have seen that coming. Losing the demon sisters was a great loss. What with their combat ability being able to match the angels? No. As Modius would be fine with that. The money and time of a king of hell might as well be limitless. Well, not fine, but so long as the gains outweighed the costs, he couldn’t care less. No, it was the loss of the hell’s monkey that would truly DMN him. He had him in his arms and a DMNBRT fought him off, but not before falling through. He’s in hell, certainly. Corset began to nibble on his nails, pacing back and forth in the alleyway, clinging to that one small comfort. On one hand, he knew where the boy was. He must be here in pride. That narrows it down rather than being maybe in Dayton and Odin, on earth, and in his element. On the other hand, he was in pride, the seat of Lucifer’s throne, an arcane and impossibly vast city with sinners, the worst humanity has to offer, populating it. Sadists, rapists, murderers, cannibals, you name it, pride has it and in the billions. If rock dies here, Corset gulped. That was something as Modius would not forgive. Not after centuries of cultivating the key for his ultimate goal. If rock perished in hell without siring an air on earth, it would be lost, perhaps even destroyed. And if the key was destroyed, he steadied his breathing, leaning against the wall, heaving into a filthy paper bag to calm himself down. No, no, he’d be fine. Just fine. Rock has always been tough for a human, going by the reports the sisters had given, and confirmed by his own eye and throbbing groin. Sure, the traitors did most of the heavy fighting in Odin City, but it was often he who laid down the coup degrace with those primitive gadgets of his, to say nothing of his clever strategies. His traitorous girls were powerful, sure, but their often overroought scheming could not have delivered the terrible defeats he had suffered. The boy would survive, at least long enough to be found. No one who’d caused one so great and vile as Corset so much trouble would fall prey to hell. I have not lost yet. I only have to find him and bring him to Lord as Modius, but I have to do it. If anyone else finds him and brings him in or kills him, I’ll be slaughtered as a failure or gulp. Worse, no. If I am to redeem myself, I must personally deliver the key to my lord. I will need to get my affairs in order, all while avoiding Lord as modious eye. corset scratched at his bindings, found the strap and pulled the tightness, the pressure gn. With a snap, his corset snapped back in, digging into his skin with rapturous pain. The incubi grinned, the cruel hooks pulling at the corners of his mouth, revealing all his straight white teeth in a manic rectus. He hasn’t lost yet. He has his immense fortune to fall back on after all. I’ll have to find someone to hire then. Some bounty hunters, he mused, and he walked out of the alleyway, proud and calm as can be with his hands behind his back as he walked amongst the rabble. He would have been an easy mark back on Earth with his appearance and abilities. But here, he can just blend with the crowd. With any luck, no one had noticed his return to hell and informed his king. Still, he would have to keep his head down, not draw attention to himself. Yes, Rock had that advantage at a glance on Earth. Now the tables have turned. I will find you briefers rock. Mark my words and soon your PP will be in my lord’s hands. So all right folks that’s all for today. Stay tuned for part two. Do subscribe, like and share for more such videos. Also check out the story and author Zoro on fanfiction.net. Press the bell icon to be notified first on release. See you in the next video. Till then, goodbye.

#hazbinhotel #helluvaboss #alastor #angeldust #charliemorningstar #hero #paswg #whatif #fanfiction #highschool #anime
What if Helluva Boss meets Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt (Part 1)

Author: Zaru on FANFICTIONnet
https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1160708/Zaru

The author is really amazing at writing! You can check out more of their stories and fanfics too!

DISCLAIMER:
PERMISSION TO USE THE FANFIC IN MY VIDEO HAS BEEN OBTAINED OR IS BEING PROCESSED BY OUR TEAM. THE FANFICTION AND ALL CREATIVE RIGHTS BELONG TO THE AUTHOR.
I just found the fanfic interesting and fun, and added gameplay and voiceover.
If the author sees this and wants the video removed, please comment and we will get in touch as soon as possible.
Please avoid random spamming and blocking my channel. Let’s talk it out instead 🙂
Love you, author! :3
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Summary: Helluva Boss x Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt Crossover !!
Intro song: Travis Scott My Eyes Edit (NCS)

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