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inviisiiblelee · 1 year ago

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The Beginning of a Lifetime

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Word Count: 2,030 Rating: Teen and Up Audience Relationship: Alastor/Vox Additional Tags: Vox is named George Taylor, Vox is Brand New, Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel), Fluff, First Meetings, i love writing about first meetings, Vox died in the 40s, Probably only a handful of years after Alastor at most, Alastor Takes Vox Under His Wings, porting from AO3, link included above if prefered. Notes: Always based around headcanons. I named him George Taylor simply because its a really non-unique and generic type of name. Meant for a boring, plain little man. I thought about V names like how Angel is Anthony, but I was looking up popular names for boys born in 1890's when I headcanon Vox was probably born and wanted to stay within the top of popularity. A (late) entry for RadioStatic week day 1. Enjoy! <3 Meant to rival in name my other work, The End of a Lifetime, too.

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George Taylor was not a violent man in life, and to be faced with so much violence immediately in Hell? He was absolutely not ready. Not only was he unprepared for the levels of pure chaos, but even his own body was beyond a little different. He couldn’t say it didn’t make some sense, he’d only died with a large television set dropped directly onto his head. Turns out that’s quite enough pressure to cause the skull to give in and be crushed completely. He had enemies, sure, while alive, it wasn’t something that could be easily avoided in the line of business he had pursued, at the end of the day. And some of those people were more temperamental than he was, but that was where his disarming charm was used the best. He could talk a majority of people down from a direct conflict, could sugar his words just right so that they would feel reassured. White lies, little seeds of doubt or warmth, a way of wriggling into their hearts and minds. He was good at it. He was just a plain, simple man, anyway. What was intimidating of someone as plain as him? Dressed well and groomed, with an easy smile and all the patience in the world. A soft voice, dulcet tones, easy airs of confidence and pleasantry. It worked.

Usually.

His life’s final confrontation was impossible to ease down, and George was not a fighter in any way. He could be quick on his feet, but fear, while motivating, didn’t make it easy. It wasn’t as though it wasn’t a fair experience - he’d gotten the man booted from his job, needled down with debt, and serving time for something he definitely did not do, as a star witness who lied on the stand in full confidence and with the performance of a lifetime. It made sense he was murdered, and it made perfect sense he found himself here in Hell, something he did, at least, gather quickly.

He didn’t anticipate some sort of warm welcome, of course, no group of happy campers to explain how things worked or to help him out, but he also didn’t quite anticipate being jumped and pushed into an alleyway by a small group of three rough looking demons (he had to guess? Surely that was what they were called?) who threw him to the ground, searched his pockets, slammed his head against a wall, and took his slightly worn out jacket and his shoes of all things, considering he had nothing else to offer. He wasn’t sure how a television of a head could lead to the pain shooting through his back and limbs, and while he was unsure of anything else that was injured, it hurt more than he liked to admit, and trying to stand led to such severe vertigo that he slid down against the wall and just stayed there.

He had never been so beaten down so fast while alive, even as a sickly sort. He was often ill, pushing through regardless and a little less than sturdy as a result, but he’d always been able to keep some sort of victimization at bay. Yet here he was now, exhausted already, in pretty poor shape and relative thundering pain, hazy vision and some sort of buzzing in the back of his mind that was steadily growing. It was a little distracting, really, and he sort of leaned into the sound, trying to follow it, the odd tones and shifting noise. It reminded him of an older time, before he was a television personality, back when he worked in the industry fixing problems with the tech. It was a sound mostly associated with audio problems, really. He wondered how deep the effects of having such a … changed physical form went. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to really look or examine it much before things went down, anyway.

Static was building in his head, and George was finding it hard to think. The sound of it shifted and changed every moment, pitch and tone flowing up and down like someone trying to tune an old instrument, except interspersed by buzzing and screeching of something electronic. Like a speaker ruined by water, or being in general interfered with. He tried reaching out to it mentally in some way, a sort of … internal troubleshooting. It felt weird and almost nauseating to explore, but he was trying to make any sense of it. He found he could sort of lower the volume of it, but it kept rising even when he did, steadily, and eventually he gave up, letting the buzzing, shrill feedback take over his mind.

He barely noticed a shadow tower over him.

But he did. He saw it projected along the ground and over his person, and his heart dropped into his stomach. A soft little plea for mercy escaped him, and he realized he had been whimpering quietly for a little while now. He hadn’t noticed in the whirlwind of emotion and sensation, and something akin to tears appeared to be dripping from his screen. It felt weird. A chill settled over him, and he felt fear sink into his soul.

George looked up at the person causing the shadow. Shades of red, black accents, a demon dressed rather formally and holding something that looked like both a cane and some sort of … microphone? The buzzing was so loud in his ears, and then it abruptly cut quiet as the looming form spoke.

“Good to see you, old friend.” A hand was outstretched to him, the friendliest gesture anyone had shown him so far, at all.

Old friend? For a moment, all George could do was stare at him, this strange … person? Man? Devil? And then it clicked.

Was that Alastor? They had met a couple of times over the years they lived on Earth simultaneously. A radio host, whose voice George was fairly familiar with when he would make his trips through his area. They’d met in person only a handful of times, at various functions that George ended up at per his workplace. The two had shared a few conversations, and he remembered them well, one of which being recommended to look into broadcasting himself, a compliment that George had taken quite seriously. Alastor had been a hell of a man when alive, certainly, in spite of what he thought he knew of his potential crimes. It wasn’t as though it was his job to judge, and it wasn’t as though he felt he had been in any danger. He remembered hearing about his death, finding it quite regrettable and sad, even. It was quite the accident to learn of. But Alastor was far from who he expected to run into, let alone to be recognized by.

“Alastor?”

Idiot. It was the only thing he could seem to say, even as he reached forward and placed his own hand in the other’s. His blue fingers contrasted so starkly against the red of his old acquaintance’s. But he found support and strength in the grip of his friend’s, and Alastor helped him stand and steadied him easily when he swayed. He was smiling wide, and George wondered if he was really that happy to see him. He couldn’t help but feel a little relief - okay, a lot of it. A weight was being lifted from his chest, seeing someone familiar, someone he would happily trust in this moment. Maybe a little naive, or a dangerous line of thoughts, but he couldn’t help himself.

“The one and only!” Alastor replied, chipper energy in the words. “You look an absolute mess, friend, what happened?”

“Oh, uh,” George hesitated to respond, but it was hard to miss the clear evidence of an attack, anyway. Or at the least, the torn clothing and dazed expressions. “Someone stole my jacket and shoes.” He said it with a shrug, and he offered his own easy smile. It was something he could do, at least. He could pretend, in this moment, that it didn’t matter.

“How shameful of them! Come along, I’ll get you sorted out straight away. What did they look like?” The question had him blinking, and then scrambling to remember. It hadn’t even happened more than an hour ago, so he gave what description he could. Alastor simply nodded, looking away in what he thought was some sort of consideration. He placed a hand on George’s back, urging him out of the alleyway finally, leading him down the sidewalk.

“Sorry, I’m just a little out of it still,” he said quickly. “Just got here and I didn’t quite think it would all be so … immediately exciting.” Carefully chosen words as he examined his surroundings, peering around to finally get a sense of where he might be, the state of things around here. He’d barely made it a few blocks on his own, before.

“Worry not, we’ll get you right as rain in no time at all,” was all Alastor offered, and George fell into step with him cautiously.

Things were odd. Alastor brought him to what seemed to be a tailor, offering to cover him getting repaired and refreshed clothing for the time being. He didn’t ask for anything from George as they left, but he couldn’t help feeling relieved. He noted that many seemed to shy away from Alastor for some reason, fleeting glances and then people crossing the roads, as if to get away from him. It was a weird thing to see - Alastor was still only smiling, seemingly unbothered by any of it.

“What’s with the parting of the crowd?” George finally asked after a little more walking, entirely unsure where they were even going, now.

“Oh, they’re merely getting out of the way,” Alastor said simply. “I’ve made a few waves here, they know to move pretty well.” He said it so jauntily, George couldn’t find a reason to mind it. If Alastor had made a name for himself already, then all the better, right? Good for him.

They walked only for a few blocks before George realized they were within sight of the group that had attacked him. Stepping a little closer to Alastor, without realizing it, he tensed up. Alastor seemed to notice, however.

“Is that them?”

“I- I think so? The one on the right has my jacket, at least.”

“Stay here, yes?”

“Uh. Okay.”

Alastor broke away from him with a few strides and approached the small group of other demons. Alastor’s height towered over them, and they seemed very startled by his presence. George stayed where he was told, unable to hear the conversation, though it was clearly mostly Alastor speaking to them at length before holding out one hand, palm up, expecting something. A moment passed, and then something in the air changed, and the buzzing static and feedback roared in his ears all of a sudden. He saw the space around Alastor darken, saw a long, strange set of antlers begin to grow from his temples. Dark shadows formed around the trio, and those around otherwise were quick to clear away at the display, but George could only seem to stare. The shadows traveled up and wrapped around each of the demons, and he snatched George's jacket and shoes from them, as well as other belongings. The shadows squeezed harder and harder, until they were certainly pleading desperately, before being abruptly consumed into the ground without further showing. Alastor draped the jacket over his arm and returned to George’s side, holding his things out.

George blinked a few times before remembering himself, taking them from him with a rushed set of thank you’s, which Alastor only waved away with a quick dismissive comment. They fell into step together again, and Alastor asked if he felt fine enough to join him for lunch.

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“No thanks necessary. What else are friends for? You must catch me up, I’m sure we have plenty to discuss, so stay close, hm?”

“Definitely will do.”

And, well. Vox would be a man of his word, for as long as Alastor wanted him there.

#staticradio #radiostatic #radiostatic week 2024 #radiostatic week day 1 #first meetings radiostatic #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x vox #vox hazbin hotel #early hell hazbin hotel #my writing #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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drawnbadly-blog · 1 year ago

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Hellish Bells 6: Heavenly Discussions

“Oh. My. GOSH!” Emily squeed, hands up on her mouth, her feet flailing in joy under her, and her wings spread wide. She settled down after almost a solid minute and then asked, “How was it?! Was he nice about it!? Dates normally include kissing, right? Did you guys kiss? Did ya? Didja?”

“Emily, it’s Alastor . The fact that it was a nice dateis more than Vaggie expected,” Charlie explained.

A sly smile on her face, Emily queried, “What were YOU expecting?”

“Me?” Charlie paused. She admitted, “I, ah, didn’t really think about it. I thought we’d be doing weird things, like, I don’t know, eating freshly-dead deer.”

Emily froze. Then, in disbelief, she asked, “Do people…go on dates like that?”

“Not normal people,” Charlie reassured. Not that Alastor was normal. She didn’t say that part out loud.

“Soooooo you ate dinner! What was all of it? Was it tasty? Where did he get it from? Pineapple doesn’t grow in Hell, does it? DID YOU GUYS KISS?!” Emily’s questions were quick; Charlie didn’t have a chance to answer one before another was asked.

“For the last time we DID NOT kiss!” Charlie emphatically yelled. That seemed to snap Emily out of her rapid-fire questioning.

“I’m sorry! I’m just so excited AAAHHHHHHH !” Emily cradled her face, eyes sparkling. “I don’t think there’s ever been a wedding like this in the history of ever! EVER! The Princess of Hell herself, an Angel from Heaven, and a Sinner? It’s so unique! When else would something like this happen?”

Charlie resisted bringing up her own parent’s marriage. Instead, she said with excitement as she tried picking up from where they were, “So, I know we’re going with a mix of red and blue - the Heaven/Hell play, as you know - and I was thinking about having mixed streamers on the ceiling-”

“I can’t wait for you guys to kiss!” Emily cried out.

Charlie couldn’t help the flat look she gave the Seraph. “We’ll probably only kiss at the altar.”

“Awwww, why?”

“Alastor is-” Charlie paused. What was Alastor? Asexual? Aromantic? He was against any sort of sex. ‘Exchanging fluids’ and all. But…aromantic? She tried to picture ‘aromantic’ on top of the Alastor she saw two nights prior, enjoying the music and dancing with them. It wasn’t definitive proof, but Charlie was seeing under the mask little by little and finding someone that wasn’t completely homicidal and monstrous. What had that tale been? Beauty and the Beast? More like Beaut ies and the Beast… Shaking herself back to the conversation, she said, “Jury is still out on what he is.”

“That’s sad.” Emily paused for a moment. Then she held up a couple of red and blue balloons. “Are we alternating balloons, or will they be the same color on each side?”

Charlie walked into the back boardroom in the Heaven Embassy, ready to have a cute little party while they discussed who was doing what during the wedding. Anthony had wanted to be the flower girl, to which his twin sister protested. Hopefully they would have that worked out. Husk wanted to run the bar, Sir Pentious wanted to be the DJ for some strange reason, and Cherri wanted to be in charge of security.

At least, that’s how she’d pictured everything. Except when she entered the room no one was talking. They were all sitting, staring at the door. The look in their eyes made Charlie feel like they were waiting for her to show up. Then she realized that her fiancee was present.

“Vaggie! Hi!” Charlie shut the door behind her. “What brings you here?” After Vaggie had battled Alastor on the wedding colors, she’d taken a back seat and let Charlie take charge. Alastor occasionally also gave his opinion and helped Charlie.

“Charlie, toots, this is an intervention,” Anthony said right away.

Charlie froze halfway to the nearest seat. Confused, she dumbly asked, “What?”

“We’re worried about you,” Husk said, his pink and white color scheme so different from his colors in Hell. He took a drink of one of his Heaven ‘cheap booze’ concoctions before he continued, “You’re taking this whole ‘marriage’ and ‘soul eating’ thing pretty easy.”

“I-I mean…” Charlie finished sitting in the chair facing everyone else. She defended, “It’s not like I have much choice. Gotta face it with a smile!”

“Who ssssaid you had to do that?” Sir Pentious said, clearly reading off of a notecard. “You musssst…hn, I can’t read thissss.” He motioned at Cherri.

“Oh my FACKIN’ GOOOOOD, Edgelord! Give me that!” Cherri snatched the card from his hand. The fingerless white gloves she wore matched perfectly with the loose white blouse and blue shorts. She crumpled the notecard up as she pointed a finger at Charlie. “Look, we’re damn sure ya don’t want to do this. Why fake being happy when ya could not hide how you’re feelin’?”

“ESPECIALLY around us!” Anthony growled, his arms spreading wide to indicate everyone in the room. He thumbed at Vaggie. “She ain’t even trying to act happy.”

“Hell no! Why would I be happy about, about any of this?!” Vaggie slammed her fist against the table. “That bastard Alastor…I bet he learned about us planning to propose to each other and wanted to be a dick and ruin everything!”

Charlie had to admit, that sounded like something Alastor would do. Rubbing her wrist, she said, “I’m not so sure.” A thought occurring to her, she asked, “Why would he trap himself in this deal? He’s at as much risk as me and Vaggie!”

“He could be fuckin’ lying,” Anthony said.

“Nah, no lies from him,” Husk butted in. “If there was one thing that Alastor has going for him, he isn’t much of a liar. Omit the truth? Sure. He might have other reasons for doing something on top of the ones he gave you. But outright lie? No, that isn’t it.” His fingers danced along the edge of his bottle. “That’s the most dangerous part of him. Like dealing with some trickster god.”

“Then he’s purposely not telling us something,” Vaggie growled. “There’s no way he simply wanted to be fair with his ‘brides’.”

Charlie was tired. Of all the suspicion, the paranoia. So she said, “So what if there is?”

Everyone looked at her, surprised. Anthony was the first to recover. “What?”

She repeated, “So what if he does have another reason? Should we really distrust him so much? He’s been with us for four years! And in all that time, nothing too terrible happened!”

Vaggie rubbed her head. “We need to be prepared for it, Charlie! Not blindly accept things!”

“What if I want to trust him this time?” Charlie challenged. “Why can’t any of you trust him now?”

“Bitch, he took my soul hostage!” Husk snarled.

“Yeah, he’s done some real heinous things. I certainly can’t trust him,” Anthony noted.

“He gave it back when I asked nicely,” Charlie said to Husk. “He apologized! As all of you know-”

“It all starts with saying ‘I’m sorry’,” they all dutifully finished for her.

Cheerily, she said, “Yes! I’m so glad you guys remember!”

“How could we forget?” Cherri almost snapped. That lesson hadn’t sat well with her.

“Sooooo what does that mean with Alastor?” Charlie leadingly asked.

A collective sigh echoed in the room. Sir Pentious pointed at Vaggie. “Ssssee? I knew she meant it!”

“She CAN’T be okay with it!” Vaggie yelled, standing and leaning on the table to glare at Sir Penious. “That’s disgusting! Alastor is a MONSTER!”

“VAGGIE, STOP IT!” Charlie shouted. She suppressed her more demonic side; that would make things worse. “Why can’t you believe in me that believes in him?”

“Charlie…” Vaggie calmed down, still firmly saying, “I know you have faith in everyone . I…I just wish you’d trust me about him being a selfish demon.”

Charlie’s heart tore. “I can’t give up on him! The fact that he’s marrying us makes me want to help him more .” She got up from her seat and moved down the table to hug Vaggie. Muffled by hair, Charlie softly said, “Can we compromise on this? Please?”

She pulled back to gauge Vaggie’s response. Vaggie was looking away from Charlie, thinking. Then she sighed out her nose. “What should the terms be?”

“How about…you make more of an effort to help me and actually try to get to know Alastor, and I’ll be a more active listener when you’re trying to warn me about him doing something fishy?” Charlie offered.

Vaggie shook her head. “The ‘active listener’ thing won’t cut it. No. Instead, you’ll immediately get away from Alastor, run for your life, if I give you the code word. No questions.”

Charlie thought on it only for a moment before she nodded. “Okay. I’ll listen more and I’ll run if you tell me to.” Feeling a bit cheeky about it, Charlie held out her hand and said in the same octave as Alastor, “Would you like to shake on it?”

The two women burst into laughter. Everyone else exchanged glances.

“Who wants to bet that Charlie’s gonna get hurt by this?” Anthony asked the room.

Molly, who had been quiet up until then, said, “Tony! You want to bet on your friend getting hurt?!”

“Emotionally hurt! Not physically!” he defended. The frown he got in return made him gulp.

“I’m willing to bet that this is all a ruse to take over Hell through Charlie,” Husk muttered.

“I’ll TAKE that bet!” Sir Pentious said, reaching into his jacket and slamming some money on the table. “I bet that Alasssstor issss genuine in hissss wooing!”

“Welp, so much for dinner,” Cherri grumbled as Husk collected the bet. She turned to Sir Pentious and asked, “What the hell, Old Man?”

“The oddssss musssst be incredible for thissss bet! I imagine the proceedssss would make ussss a fine workshop for EXPLOSSSSIVESSSS!”

#chaggistor #charlie x vaggie x alastor #bananarama is a word #romance #eventually anyway #hazbin hotel #charlie has two hands #Minor Cherri Bomb/Sir Pentious #Hellish Bells #Asexual demiromantic Alastor #no smut #demiromantic

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oneboxofmatches · 4 years ago

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All You Need to Know About Matchups!

CLICK HERE TO VIEW THE WAITLIST

Hi y'all!

This account is solely for matchups for several different fandoms. That means requests for imagines, oneshots, headcanons, etc. will NOT be taken.

Here are some basic things to know about requesting a matchup!

Unless otherwise specified for a certain fandom, a request yields one romantic pairing AND one friendship pairing as well as information on why I think you work well with the individuals I choose. Of course, if you only wish to receive either just the romantic matchup or just the friendship matchup, just let me know!

You can request matchups for several different fandoms at once! For each fandom you request, I will match you up with one romantic partner and one friend unless you request differently.

You can ask to exclude any character(s)!

Where can I request a matchup?

Requests can be made in the MATCHUP REQUESTS/ASK ME ANYTHING tab.

What do I need to include in my request?

Required

Fandom(s)

Your gender and/or pronouns

Your sexual orientation and/or preferences

Description of personality

Optional (but definitely helps me out!)

Description of appearance

Hobbies

Personality alignment (Myers-Briggs, Enneagram, Hogwarts House, etc.)

What you would look for in a partner and/or friend

Any other information you think would be helpful – the more you provide, the more I can work with!

Now with that out of the way, onto the fandoms!

Listed directly below is a shortlist of all the fandoms I take requests for as well as some extra information as needed.

Disclaimers

If a title is in italics, it means that while I feel comfortable providing matchups for this show, I have not watched every season. If a character drastically changes after a certain point, I may not be aware. The last season I watched of these shows will be included in parentheses.

All movies/shows based on novels will most likely focus on the on-screen adaptations of characters.

SHOWS

The 100 (6)

Good Omens

The Good Place (3)

Lucifer (4)

On My Block

Parks and Recreation (4)

Prodigal Son (1)

Sherlock

Space Force

Supernatural (14)

The Walking Dead (8)

MOVIES

Clueless

The Greatest Showman

Harry Potter -- Unless specified in request, will entail 2 sets of matchups as a student (Golden Trio and Marauders eras respectively)

The Hunger Games

Marvel Cinematic Universe -- Unless age is specified, underage characters will NOT be available for romantic matchups

BROADWAY

Anastasia

Beetlejuice

Carrie (2012 Off-Broadway)

Hadestown

Hamilton

Les Misérables

The Phantom of the Opera

Six

VIDEO GAMES

Detroit: Become Human

Red Dead Redemption 2

What’s below the cut?

A masterlist of characters in each fandom that will be considered for each request (unless marked with an asterisk (*), all characters are assumed to be available for both romantic AND friendly matchups while names marked with an asterisk are only available for friendly matchups). Listed alphabetically by first name.

Don’t be afraid to tell me about a typo!

Any questions? Just want to talk? You can also use the MATCHUP REQUESTS/ASK ME ANYTHING tab to get ahold of me!

SHOWS

Bellamy Blake

Clarke Griffin

Echo

Finn Collins

Harper McIntyre

Jasper Jordan

Johnathan “John” Murphy

Jordan Green

Lexa

Lincoln

Marcus Kane

Monty Green

Octavia Blake

Raven Reyes

Roan

Wells Jaha

Aziraphale

Anathema Device

Crowley

Newton Pulsifer

Mme. Tracy*

Witchfinder Sgt. Shadwell*

Chidi Anagonye

Eleanor Shellstrop

Jason Mendoza

Michael*

Tahani Al-Jamil

Amenadiel

Det. Chloe Decker

Det. Daniel “Dan” Espinoza

Ella Lopez

Eve

Dr. Linda Martin*

Lucifer Morningstar

Mazikeen “Maze”

Cesar Diaz

Jamal Turner

Jasmine Flores

Monsé Finnie

Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Ruben “Ruby” Martinez Jr.

Andrew “Andy” Dwyer

Ann Perkins

April Ludgate

Benjamin “Ben” Wyatt

Christopher “Chris” Traeger

Donna Meagle*

Gerald “Jerry�� Gergich*

Jean-Ralphio Saperstein*

Leslie Knope

Ronald “Ron” Swanson*

Ainsley Whitly

Det. Dani Powell

Edrisa Tanaka

Lt. Gil Arroyo

Det. James “JT” Tarmel

Jessica Whitly

Malcolm Bright

DI Greg Lestrade

Mrs. Hudson*

James “Jim” Moriarty

Dr. John Watson

Mary Morstan*

Molly Hooper

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Dr. Adrian Mallory*

Capt. Angela Ali

Brig. Gen. Bradley Gregory*

Dr. Chan Kaifang

Duncan Tabner

Erin Naird

F. Tony Scarapiducci

Kelly King

Maggie Naird*

Gen. Mark Naird*

Abbie “Bela” Talbot*

Adam Milligan

Alex Jones

Balthazar

Benjamin “Benny” Lafitte

Castiel

Charlene “Charlie” Bradbury

Claire Novak

Crowley

Dean Winchester

Sheriff Donna Hanscum

Eileen Leahy

Ellen Harvelle*

Gabriel

Garth Fitzgerald IV

Jack Kline

Jessica “Jess” Moore*

Joanna “Jo” Harvelle

Sheriff Jody Mills*

John Winchester

Kaia Nieves

Kevin Tran

Lucifer

Meg Masters

Michael “Mick” Davies

Patience Turner

Robert “Bobby” Singer*

Rowena MacLeod

Rufus Turner*

Samuel “Sam” Winchester

Aaron

Abraham Ford

Andrea*

Beth Greene

Carl Grimes*

Carol Peletier*

Dale Horvath*

Daryl Dixon

Dwight

Enid*

Eugene Porter*

King Ezekiel*

Father Gabriel Stokes

Glenn Rhee

Hershel Greene*

Maggie Greene

Michonne

Morgan Jones*

Negan Smith

Paul “Jesus” Rovia

Rick Grimes

Rosita Espinosa

Sasha Williams

Tara Chambler

Tyreese Williams

MOVIES

Cher Horowitz

Dionne Davenport

Josh Lucas

Tai Frasier

Travis Birkenstock

Anne Wheeler

Charity Barnum

Jenny Lind

Lettie Lutz*

Phillip Carlyle

Phineas “P.T.” Barnum

W.D. Wheeler

Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody*

Albus Dumbledore*

Arthur Weasley*

Cedric Diggory

Cho Chang

Draco Malfoy

Fleur Delacour

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ginevra “Ginny” Weasley

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

James Potter

Lily Evans

Luna Lovegood

Minerva McGonagall*

Molly Weasley*

Neville Longbottom

Nymphadora Tonks*

Oliver Wood

Remus Lupin

Ronald “Ron” Weasley

Rubeus Hagrid*

Severus Snape

Sirius Black

Viktor Krum

Cinna

Effie Trinket*

Finnick Odair

Gale Hawthorne

Haymitch Abernathy*

Johanna Mason

Katniss Everdeen

Peeta Mellark

Anthony “Tony” Stark -- Iron Man

Dr. Bruce Banner -- Hulk

Carol Danvers -- Captain Marvel

Dr. Christine Palmer*

Clint Barton -- Hawkeye

Drax the Destroyer*

Edward “Ned” Leeds

Gamora

Groot*

Harold “Happy” Hogan*

Dr. Henry “Hank” Pym*\

Hope van Dyne -- Wasp

Sgt. James “Bucky” Barnes -- Winter Soldier

Col. James “Rhodey” Rhodes -- War Machine

Loki Laufeyson

Luis*

Mantis*

Dr. Margaret “Peggy” Carter*

Cdr. Maria Hill*

May Parker*

Lord M’Baku

Michelle “MJ” Jones

Nakia

Natasha Romanoff -- Black Widow

Nebula*

Col. Nicholas “Nick” Fury*

Okoye

Peter Parker -- Spider-Man

Peter Quill -- Star-Lord

Agt. Phillip “Phil” Coulson*

Pietro Maximoff -- Quicksilver

Rocket*

Samuel “Sam” Wilson -- Falcon

Scott Lang -- Ant-Man

Shuri

Dr. Stephen Strange

Steven “Steve” Rogers -- Captain America

King T’Challa -- Black Panther

Thor Odinson

Valkyrie

Virginia “Pepper” Potts

Vision

Wanda Maximoff -- Scarlet Witch

W’Kabi

Wong*

Yelena Belova

Yondu Udonta*

BROADWAY

Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov

Dimitri Sudayev

Gleb Vaganov

Countess Lily Malevsky-Malevitch*

Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna*

Vladimir “Vlad” Popov*

Adam Maitland

Barbara Maitland

Beetlejuice*

Delia Schlimmer

Lydia Deetz*

Carrie White

Christine “Chris” Hargensen

Susan “Sue” Snell

Thomas “Tommy” Ross

Eurydice

Hades

Hermes*

Orpheus

Persephone

Aaron Burr

Alexander Hamilton

Angelica Schuyler

Elizabeth “Eliza” Schuyler

George Washington

Hercules Mulligan

James Madison

John Laurens

Margarita “Peggy” Schuyler

Maria Reynolds

Marquis de Lafayette

Philip Hamilton

Thomas Jefferson

Cosette

Enjolras

Éponine Thénardier

Fantine

Insp. Javert

Jean Valjean

Marius Pontmercy

Carlotta Giudicelli*

Christine Daaé

Erik “The Phantom”

Mme. Giry*

Meg Giry

Raoul de Chagny

Anna of Cleves

Anne Boleyn

Catherine of Aragon

Catherine Parr

Jane Seymour

Katherine Howard

VIDEO GAMES

Carl Manfred*

Chloe

Det. Chris Miller*

Connor

Elijah Kamski

Lt. Hank Anderson*

Capt. Jeffrey Fowler*

Josh

Kara

Leo Manfred

Lucy*

Luther

Markus

North

Rose Chapman*

Simon

Abigail Roberts

Arthur Morgan

Beau Gray*

Charles Smith

Daniël “Dutch” Van der Linde

Eagle Flies

Hosea Matthews*

Javier Escuella

Johnathan “John” Marston Sr.

Josiah Trelawny

Karen Jones

Kieran Duffy

Leonard “Lenny” Summers

Marion “Bill” Williamson

Mary-Beth Gaskill

Micah Bell

Molly O’Shea

Penelope Braithwaite*

Rev. Orville Swanson*

Sadie Adler

Sean MacGuire

Simon Pearson*

Tilly Jackson

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fantasyandromancelover · 4 years ago

Text

Candyman AU

This is a favor for someone who’s planning on writing this fic in September and I’m just helping develop hype for it by writing out the plot.

Charlie Magne is a graduate student in journalism who is constantly belittled, taken advantage of, and pushed around by a number of people in her life including her mentor Professor Pentious, her boss Katie a reporter who is the definition of yellow journalism and her perverted camera man Tom, even her fiance Seviathan Von Eldritch who's also a professor. Only her friend Vaggie treats her with any kind of respect or decency.

One day Charlie learns of several murders in downtown New Orleans and decides to do a report on them with Vaggie. They question some of the residents but the only one who seems to know anything is Anthony "Angel Dust" a private drug dealer who reveals to the ladies (In exchange for a little money of course) that the one responsible for the killings was "The Deer Demon" a blood thirsty apparition that can only be summoned by saying his name five times while playing his favorite song Come Sweet Death on the radio and once he arrives he kills those who have summoned him. Though both doubt him, Vaggie is frightened by this while Charlie is strangely intrigued. Angel then tells them to talk to local tendent Rosie Crawford because she was a neighbor to one of the victims.

They interview Rosie who's the single mother of a baby son and she tells them that she only heard the murder, that she didn't see anything. However she warns them both not to meddle in things they don't understand which makes Charlie suspect that Rosie knows more than she's letting on.

After this Vaggie suggests that they find a different topic but Charlie remains determined and decides to try to summon the Deer Demon to prove to her scared friend and Angel that he's not real. She plays Come Sweet Death on her radio and calls out Deer Demon five times. Nothing happens thus convincing Vaggie and Angel he's not real.

But the next day when Charlie is on her way to meet Professor Pentious the Deer Demon appears, he tells her how angry and upset he is with her for trying to disprove his existence. Charlie is afraid but at the same time entranced and for some reason tearful at the sight of him. For some reason though he chooses not to kill her like he normally does with those who call his name but instead makes her faint and kills Pentious. When he confronts her again he reveals to her that her punishment will not be death but guilt as he intends to kill people in her life, telling her that they would be alive if only she had not trifled with him. At that moment Vaggie arrives to check on Charlie and the Deer Demon prepares to make her his next victim.

Charlie pleads with him to spare her and promises to do anything to make up for what she's done. He then strikes a deal with her, he tells her the reason he does not want his legend destroyed is because it's the only thing keeping him from moving on to the afterlife and he refuses to cross over until he reclaims what was stolen from him in life. So the deal is if Charlie can figure out what was stolen from him and bring it back to him then he'll ceases his blood shedding ways. But until then he will continue killing and if she fails then he will save Vaggie for last.

So Charlie starts to dig into the Deer Demon’s past to find out what he lost as one by one he murders the people she knows which is pretty much everyone who's mistreated her so far. Upon doing her research she learns of his tragic backstory.

In life the Deer Demon a.k.a Alastor Le Rouge was the son of a white man and a slave woman. He had an interesting talent as a hunter, this lead to him being a Taxidermist to make trophies for the highest bidder. One day he was commissioned by a very wealthy landowner to make a trophy out of a prize lion he killed in Africa, but the wealthy landowner wasn’t alone. He had a daughter the most beautiful young woman in all of New Orleans. Of course, they fell deeply in love and she became pregnant. The father executed a terrible revenge on the taxidermist, he paid a bunch of drunken hooligans to do the job. They chased him just outside of New Orleans where they pinned him down, cut off his right hand with a rusty blade, and replaced it with a deer antler. But his torment wasn’t over yet, a pack of hungry wolves came to him and tore the flesh from his bones with their sharp teeth as he bled in agony. No one came to his aid except for the young woman he loved who screamed and cried for him slowly dying while looking at her eyes. He died for love.

This causes Charlie’s fear of Alastor to slowly vanish and in it’s place feel a deep compassion for him. This allows Alastor to seduce Charlie as she finds herself becoming more and more drawn to him for reasons she cannot understand. This desire only grows as Seviathan continues to belittle her and suddenly neglects her. Leaving the Deer Demon to ensnare her insecure and under appreciated heart with sweet words of admiring her beauty and cherishing her goodness forever.

Later she learns from Angel that Rosie's son is missing and she is quick to figure out that it was Alastor who took him. She asks him about stealing the baby but he replies that he is only reclaiming what should have been his. When she questions what he means by that, he merely chuckles that she'll figure it out soon enough. She goes back to Rosie's apartment to tell her what happened and to her surprise not only does Rosie believe her but she reveals to Charlie that Alastor Le Rouge was in fact her great, great, great, great, great, great, grandfather. She shows her some old pictures of him from when he was alive along with her other ancestors and Charlie notices that the young woman he was involved with bears a striking resemblance to her.

Charlie goes to confront Alastor in his makeshift lair where she finds more pictures of the landowner’s daughter underneath a carved phrase "It was always you Charlie." She then realizes that she's the reincarnation of Alastor's lover and he appears to tell her that when she died her soul did not meet him in the afterlife so he had to sustain himself on earth until she came back to him. He tells Charlie that he cannot move on until he has the wife and child that was stolen from him in life. That he wants Charlie and his infant descendant to join him in death as a family. He tells her that he loves her, urges her to accept that she loves him, and to come with him. Charlie is horrified but can no longer deny the truth so she confesses that she loves him even after all he's done. That she loves him now as much as she did in her past life. But she refuses to die with him because she feels that she can't leave this life and that she also loves Seviathan. Alastor angrily tells her she is not happy with this life, that she's been living in denial of her misery, and that Seviathan could never truly love her. She is not convinced and pleads with him to give back Rosie's child. But he just silently vanishes.

Confused and not sure what she wants, she goes to visit Seviathan only to find him having an affair with one of his students. Charlie finally let's loose the inner rage that has been built up by the years of being pushed around and starts to wreck his apartment. He calls the police and has her committed to a psychiatric hospital. When the doctors prepare to use shock therapy on her she calls for Alastor who appears to kill the doctors and cut her restraints. She flees from the hospital with the police following her and manages to evade them by going downtown.

She hears crying coming from a junk pile and discovers that's where Alastor has hidden Rosie's son. She goes inside to retrieve him but the residents assume that she's the Deer Demon so they set fire to the junk pile. Angel, Vaggie, and Rosie realize that Charlie is in there and try desperately to stop the bonfire but no one can hear them over the cheering. With Rosie's son safe in her arms, Charlie attempts to crawl out of the burning pile but suffers many burns and can barely move. Alastor appears one last time to push Charlie out of the flames while apologizing for hurting her for all he ever wanted was to be with her again and promises to cease to exist after this. Charlie manages to reach her arms out of the pile and hand the child to Rosie but then chooses to die in the fire with her love. Vaggie and Angel frantically try to pull her back out but by the time they reach her she has already died from her severe burns.

Seviathan gets a call confirming Charlie’s death, becoming grief-stricken and guilt-ridden he listens to Charlie's favorite song on the radio and says her name five times. Charlie and Alastor's vengeful spirits both appear for one last "hunt" and kill Seviathan, leaving his body to be found by his student lover.

Afterward, Angel, Vaggie, Rosie, and the remorseful residents all pay their respects at her funeral and gratitude for riding them of the Deer Demon by helping Alastor find peace at last. When the funeral was over everybody leaves except for Vaggie who stays behind a little bit longer to say her final goodbye to her dear best friend by calling her name five times as well. Charlie’s spirit appears to her but only to say goodbye as she has now been reunited with the spirit of her long suffering lover and daughter. Vaggie then tearfully watches the family ascend into heaven together and is left with comfort.

#hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #candyman #charlotte magne #charlie #alastor the radio demon #alastor #charlie mange #hazbin charlastor #charlastor #radiobelle #charlie x alastor #charlie and alastor #hazbinhotel au #hazbin hotel au

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petitprincess1 · 5 years ago

Text

My Roommate’s a Demonic Deer Ch3 (1 Week Later)

AO3 Link Summary: Alastor and Anthony watch some TV together and almost get a bit close. Almost... Words: 1,443 Chapter idea was by Bumblebee_97 on AO3. Thank you, hope I did it justice ^^; ~~~ Anthony listened to rain pelt harshly against his windows, making him look at the grey sheet outside his window that showed it was nothing but a gross day. Oftentimes, on days like this, people who worked at his job were able to call out if they wanted to. Business was never booming on rainy/stormy days, but saying that you would never get customers in a porn studio would be an absolute lie.

He decided to take the day off because he had been working for a whole week straight just to avoid his new, uh, “friend” that he acquired. The man was starting to get sore and he could only take so many days of dealing with drunk men or, if they paid well enough, women. Yeah, Anthony was gonna get yelled at from his boss and probably going to get a slap or two, since he’s the biggest moneymaker there, but it’s nothing he couldn’t handle.

Anthony was texting one of his friends, who sort of knew about the situation he was in, and sent her a crying emoji and that he was hungry.

Cherri: What do you want me to do about it? lol Thought you said that roommate was getting something.

Anthony: Eh, he was or is, but he’s takin’ ages. Plus, he looked pissed when I asked him ta get breakfast.

Cherri: You know, you never told me how he looked or sent a picture. Come on! Tell me something! How does he look? Is he sexy?

Anthony thought for a few seconds and thought past all the weird shit the demon did like the constant death threats, shadows moving around his house, never-ending nightmares, and how Al slept with his eyes open. Other than that shit, Alastor was pretty-

The front door suddenly slammed open...again and Alastor shouted, “I have brought organs!”

Alastor was pretty fucking weird and annoying and stupid and Anthony hated his hair and existence. He sighed as he sent a text to Cherri:

Anthony: He definitely is...something.

Cherri: Oof. Giving many Fs to you, my friendo.

The mortal just sighed as he turned to Al and then flinched when he saw Al carrying a bloody, brown sack into the kitchen. He quickly scrambled out of his bedroom, almost slipping on the hardwood floor from his socks, and shouted, “Hey, what the fuck are ya doin’!? Also, don’t set that shit on the counter!”

Al blinked at him and then just dropped the sack right onto the counter, smirking at the human. He chuckled, “It’s what I said it was, ethel! Organs!”

Anthony ran his hands through his hair, really trying not to rip it out, and sighed heavily, “Ok! I meant what or whose organs are those, ya dumbfuck!”

The radio demon tilted his head and gave an odd staticky purr, walking closer towards the human as his eyes turned to radio dials, “Are you sure you wish to know? I’ll give you extreme detail of what happened, but I will warn you that it is not for the faint of heart~”

Anthony moved away from the demon, until he was backed against the wall. He gulped and laughed nervously, “Heh...no. I’m good. Ya do whatevah ya like.” Alastor’s eyes turned back into regular pupils and he looked down at him with an unimpressed stare, huffing, “Wise choice…”

Once the demon walked away to go back to the...whatever it was that he had in that thing, Anthony went back to his bedroom as silently as he could and went to go check on his phone. He saw three new messages from Cherri.

Cherri: Hey, yo, I was just joking.

Cherri: Come on, man, you ain’t mad, right? Unless your new roommate is cutting you up into little pieces, lol.

Cherri: Shit, I gotta go. Got work. Let me know when he’s done killing you, dude.

Anthony sighed at missing talking to really the only person he can talk to without judgement or wanting to fuck or looking for some score. He got up from his bed, looking at the rain, and figured that he couldn’t just walk away from this madness, so he just decided to watch TV.

The human went back into the living room/kitchen and saw that what Alastor was pouring out of his bags...was just everyday meats like pork, chicken, and even bacon. Anthony blinked at what he was taking out and shouted at Al, “Wha- What! Why didja-”

The radio demon looked over his shoulder to the human and had an even bigger grin on his face, “What? Did you expect other kinds of organs? You’re so silly, Tony! Hahahaha!”

Anthony stared at the demon, wishing that he could just burn a hole to the back of his head, and he ended up typing a reply to Cherri.

Anthony: I fucking hate this guy. ~~~ After breakfast, Anthony was just watching Netflix in the living room, not really paying attention to the scary movie. He didn’t even really read the name or what it was about, he just liked going in blind when it came to horror films. Although, it was proving to be just some slasher flick, not even that great of a killer. The people that the killer was getting were fucking stupid anyway. They were- “Making too much noise. Of course he’s easily able to slaughter you, such annoying catches. If anything, cutting or burning the tongues would be quite merciful.”

The mortal jumped at seeing the radio demon sitting close to him and asked, “When didja get over here?”

Alastor narrowed his smile a bit, making Anthony know that he was going to hear some sarcastic comment...and then made him wonder how he knew what Al’s smiles meant. The demon mocked, “My, you are full of boring questions today.”

The human gave a tired groan and just shook his head, not really wanting to bother with the demon and trying to understand him fully. However, it did hit him when he was critiquing the murderer in the movie. It felt less like someone judging the tropes or cliches and more like someone who has had experience. Granted, Anthony couldn’t judge too harshly, considering the family he came from, but...it just felt different. Especially since he didn’t feel like he could die with them.

Anthony took a deep breath and just went back to watching the tv, not really wanting to egg the man on. ~~~ He wasn’t sure when or who started it, but him and Alastor somehow had scooted closer to each other. They were still watching slasher and horror flicks, but it wasn’t like he was afraid of anything that was happening on the TV. Yet, here he was, right next to the demon that probably could rip his liver out. Hell...that could be why he moved so close to him. Although, the man was very nice to lean up against. A nice warmth came off of him and he smelt like nice cologne...with a mixture of raw meat, but that's fine...ish.

Alastor was mumbling to himself about certain scenes that were going on. Sometimes it was about what he would do or correcting the killer’s behavior or even flat out complaining about the whole thing. Normally, Anthony would hate people talking during a movie, but he oddly found it interesting and comforting. Plus, he wanted to ask him something.

Anthony looked up at Al and questioned, “Uh...yeah, Al, do...uh...were ya human once?”

Alastor didn’t seem to notice the closeness, still looking ahead, but he still responded, “Why, yes, I was.”

“When didja die?”

“1930s, dear boy.”

Anthony gulped as he shifted a bit in the chair and then asked what he had been thinking, “Uh...wh-what didja, uh...do ta...ya know, end up in Hell or as a demon or whatevah?”

Alastor blinked, seeming as if he was coming back into reality, and then looked down at the human. Tony thought that he was about to have a heart-to-heart with the demon, but then the deer boy started, “Anthony…”

The mortal answered, “Uh, yeah…”

The demon took a deep breath and grinned scarily wide, lowering his voice and tone laced with static, “Can you tell me why you are sitting so close and touching me?”

“I-Is that a p-problem?” He asked as he lowered himself against the couch cushion and let out a small whimper. Black tentacles raised behind the demon as he tilted his head, bending his neck at an unnatural angle, and he growled deeply, “Yessss…”

He hated and was terrified of his roommate. Cherri help….

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #human au #human angel dust #alastor the radio demon #alastor #radiodust #hazbin hotel au #fanfiction #my writing #writing #writers on tumblr #hazbin

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lokidiabolus · 5 years ago

Text

The Deal - Chapter 3

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (web series)

Pairing: Alastor / Angel Dust

Warnings: human!Angel Dust (Anthony), Deal with a devil AU

Summary: Sometimes you had nobody to spend the Christmas with. Sometimes you didn’t want to. Sometimes you took a chalk and drew a pentagram on the floor fully ready to deal with anything that would come out as an alternative to self-pity occurring otherwise.

The time when Anthony thought if he can’t get anybody to love him properly, he can just make a deal with a devil and find out what affection feels like. Alastor thinks this mortal is pitiful beyond belief and concede. Cuddles happen.

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: Holy shit, this took long, and should probably take longer but I'm just itching to get all this out of my system, so here it is. Also realized Alastor’s gloves are not fucking black and red lmao, but burgundy, fuuuck. Changed it.

Unbetad!

2020, January 18th

“What did ya think I’d say to a dead deer in my living room?!” Anthony almost fell out of the window for how far out from his flat he was leaning, trying to get rid of the corpse stench that assaulted his senses. “Is it some kind of fuckin’ peace offering? Like sorry, I fucked up, here’s a dead deer?!”

“A deer for my dear~,” Alastor singsonged in response while happily cutting vegetable at the kitchen counter, as if there was no stinky corpse in the flat, bloody and so, so dead.

“No, fuck you,” Anthony growled back into the flat, not bothering to turn even a little. “I hate you.”

“Now, now, cher, lyin’s bad for your health.”

“You are bad for my health!” he turned to the demon with an accusatory finger pointed at his face, and then made a retching noise when the smell of blood reached his nostrils. His hangover state couldn’t handle the smallest deviation from normal and corpses were definitely not in top 1000 of smells he was used to. Alastor didn’t even raise an eyebrow, he just calmly continued his ministrations as if he just didn’t carve the poor deceased animal right in the very room. Wasn’t it some sort of cannibalism if he would eat anything made from that thing? A deer eating another deer? Was that even allowed?

“Dat might be tru,” the demon agreed after a moment of pondering. “Demons are rarely good fer people.”

“Ugh,” Anthony sagged against the windowsill and the icy wind blew snowflakes into his face. “Seriously, why did ya even bring this thing. Where did ya even get it? A whole fuckin’ deer…”

“Hunted it down,” Alastor shrugged and walked towards the sink where the meat was resting pitifully (in Anthony’s opinion), portioned, but also skinned with surprising skill, not elaborating on the hunting part like it was his favourite hobby and not worth questioning. “It’s our weekend. Wanted to cook for you.”

Our weekend sounded sweet. Anthony wanted to be wary of that, but he was just a human and he liked it despite the possible danger lying in those words. After all that went down, it was apparent Alastor saw him as something akin to a pet project, a “unfuck this guy before he dies” sort of challenge, if his I’m going to fix you eventually speech was sincere. Who knew if anything about this person was sincere in general, but making dumb life decisions was Anthony’s forte so maybe he was inclined to believe the demon anyway.

“’K,” he huffed, his stomach finally calming down and he started to get chilly. “Just… tell me when yer done with the raw meat shit. The tequila is not agreeing with me otherwise.”

There was no answer until after several minutes he felt a hand touching his lower back and a body leaning against him to join him at the window.

“Aren’t you cold ‘ere?” Alastor asked as if he just didn’t squeeze in with him at the window and his warmth was a stark contrast with the chilly wind blowing outside.

“Well, not anymore,” he forced himself to remain on spot and not lean into the contact, more out of spite than anything else, but Alastor did it for him, hugging him from the side.

Hugging… him, what?

He must have felt the rigidness of Anthony’s body, there was no way he would not. Sure, they talked about hugs, but Alastor never looked like he was going to act on it anytime soon, and this was definitely soon as fuck.

“Meat is boilin’ and I put rest in da fridge,” Alastor’s voice was so, so close.

“I have a dead deer in my fridge now?” the human faked a reprimanding tone and the arm around him tightened and he felt Alastor nuzzling his hair. Oh. He wasn’t lying when he said he and his shadow are one person, because this felt familiar – only much warmer.

“Oi,” he nudged the man. “If ya feel like huggin’, I want a proper hug.” And took a step back and opened his arms.

Alastor hummed… and went back to the kitchen counter.

“Don’t push your luck, cher,” he said instead, like he didn’t just leave Anthony hanging, probably also out of spite. “How ‘bout you peel potatoes instead?”

“Wow,” Anthony let his arms drop down. “Just wow.”

He helped with the potatoes anyway and tried ridiculously hard to ignore the fact Alastor’s Bambi tail was wagging all this time.

***

2020, February 13th

“I have a request.”

“Only one this time?”

Anthony refused to feel offended by that. Alastor had been bitchy for a week now, probably had to do something with Hell fucking with his control kink, but it usually only made him snarkier, rather than hostile. Anthony wouldn’t probably even notice if the demon didn’t snap on Wednesday and Anthony’s living room suddenly resembled a boutique with at least fifty racks of clothes haphazardly appearing where was still free space, making Anthony stare at it like a child during Christmas. It wasn’t a bad “snap” Alastor had, actually seemed like a nice gesture until he said: Now be a good boy, Anthony, pick something nice and be quiet. If I hear one more word from you, one of those jackets is going to strangle you to death. So, Anthony shut up and Alastor eventually calmed down enough to allow him to speak again without the static going haywire (and he also let him keep the clothes, ayyy).

State Alastor was in also meant no touching policy. Anthony taught himself not to initiate anything unless in bed about a month ago already but still sometimes slipped when Alastor was too close – and it usually didn’t rouse a bad reaction (unless it was about the tail. Or the ears), but if Anthony tried it when the static was loud and grating, he’d risk a limb. He didn’t have a problem to keep his distance at that point and Alastor seemed to appreciate it.

But now it sucked.

“Ya know, tomorrow is the 14th,” the human pointed out, sitting sprawled in the comfy oversized cushion he bought himself two weeks ago and at which Alastor scoffed for some reason. It was the best thing to laze in ever, the demon had no taste. “And ya know.”

“I am not sure what I should know on the 14th,” the demon uttered, his red eyes not leaving a page of his book for a second. He was seated on the couch with enough distance between two of them that could be still considered social and as hanging out instead of we had an argument so we’re not talking to each other, which was technically not true. They didn’t argue since the tequila fiasco and that cleared up anyway. This was mostly just… precaution.

“Well, I know this is your last day this week,” Anthony tried different approach and sat more properly on the cushion. Not that it helped much, since he was sporting a pink crop top hoodie and booty shorts and Alastor already expressed certain distaste for it, but didn’t demand him to go change, so it was at least a small victory.

“Indeed, it is,” Alastor responded primly, turning a page in slow pace, like a snob he was sometimes. Another thing about the bitchy state of his was the speech. He never let it slip like he usually did when they were together, just talked like a radio all the time like he was keeping his barriers up almost hysterically. Anthony didn’t question it, but he sure did miss his Cajun accent a lot. It felt much warmer and softer than the radio show host persona Alastor normally presented, although it was probably just his form of coping.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, bracing for inevitable refusal that was going to meet his demand. He knew Alastor well enough to distinguish when he was not going to be swayed, and it definitely reached that point. “Just wondered if maybe you’d stay one more day.”

“I am quite busy, dear,” Alastor responded as Anthony thought he would. “You could have planned it a week prior if you knew 14th was an important date.”

It was like talking to a computer at this point. Please leave a message, beep.

“Ya, I could have,” Anthony admitted and let it go. It wasn’t like Valentine’s Day was something special for either of them. Or, honestly, meant anything to their relationship. Maybe there was some Deal day in hell’s calendar they could open bottle of wine to down the year eventually.

A sigh and Alastor was putting his book down, his smile rather strained.

Uh oh.

“Anthony,” there was the Name CallingTM, “if you have something to say, say it.”

“Nothin’,” the human shrugged while sagging back into the cushion. “Three days are up.”

It was the weekend-less week now too and Anthony knew Alastor was itching to get back to hell to deal with whatever was needing his attention and he sort of thought of telling him if he really needed to go, he could, despite the deal saying otherwise, but was selfish and never did.

“I am not going to repeat myself,” the static rumbled more, meaning the bitching mode intensified and Anthony groaned. He should have kept his mouth shut.

“It’s just Valentine’s Day, ‘s all,” he mumbled and right the moment the sentence left his mouth, he would shoot himself if he could, because even to his ears it sounded so… cringy. Like he was expecting Alastor to bring him flowers and have dinner together with candles and all that bullshit they do in the movies. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Actually. Forget it. I dunno why I even thought about it, for fuck’s sake.”

“Lover’s day,” Alastor didn’t forget it. Oh no.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it that way, honest,” Anthony quickly assured him, and really wished Alastor would just shrug it off and return to his book like love never interested him. Since it never did. He was such an anti-intimate and anti-sexual person Anthony suspected him of really being just a little alien in a robotic body, like in Men in Black.

“Then what did you mean by asking me to stay on the Lover’s day?”

Oh yeah, okay, bastard mode activated now as well. Just keen on marinating Anthony in his own sweat and tears from the obvious mistake. Classic Alastor.

“Nothin’,” he piped defensively.

“Nothing would not make you ask me to stay one more day on Lover’s day,” Alastor was staring at him like a laser now, just burning through his skull. He was obviously super into making Anthony squirm in self-pity from his bad life decisions.

“Please, forget I asked.”

“No.”

“Pleaaaaase.”

“No.”

And that was it. That was the end. That was Anthony herded into an imaginary corner with nowhere to go, and Alastor was already turning towards him, and he couldn’t say if the smile was mischievous or angry. Lately the border between those was thin as fuck.

“I just thought a company on the most depressing day of the fuckin’ year would be nice, is all,” he gritted his teeth under Alastor’s red-eyed stare. “Like. We could watch some chic-flics on TV and drink wine and laugh at it, I don’t know.”

“You know how I feel about the picture show shenanigans,” Alastor shot right back, as expected. He learned to more or less tolerate when Anthony wanted to watch something on TV in his presence, but he never joined him for it like a goddamn boomer.

“Ye, see. So, it was doomed from the start anyway!” He hoped it was the end of it. Sure, he might have thought about some cuddles here and there too, since that was what they were supposed to do anyway, but the main plan was not to be alone while hating on all the hearts and roses and happy couples showed everywhere.

“It would seem so,” Alastor finally let him off the hook and opened his book again, the static diminishing slightly. “You can still drink wine though.”

“I plan to,” the human mumbled more to himself than to his companion and was just glad he didn’t need to go to work on that wretched day, or Alastor would find him in hell the very evening.

***

2020, February 14th

He’d be lying if he didn’t have at least the smallest hope of Alastor appearing out of thin air with one of the soft smiles he could do and with his Cajun accent telling him he changed his mind and wouldn’t leave him alone on such awful, overrated cash-grabbing day like this. It was probably 1 % chance of it happening, but he still felt a little disappointed when the clock showed a bit before midnight and Alastor didn’t show up at all, not even saying hi over the radio or sending Junior to give him few comforting nuzzles (Anthony was suspecting him he kept his shadow on short leash since the tequila incident and it was kind of sad).

He was switching between channels with a small frown two wine bottles later, but at least he managed to survive this shitty day without burying his face in PCP. He’d have to leave the house for it and the image of seeing happy hand holding couples on his way would kill the urge anyway.

Once Titanic started to play, Anthony decided it was enough suffering for one day and turned the TV off with a groan. Maybe Alastor knew exactly what kind of boredom the TV was, if not playing shitty movies, then filling majority of its broadcast with ads, and that’s why he avoided it.

He dragged his body to the bathroom and then to the bedroom to cuddle his body pillow instead of Alastor (not the same, but at least he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night anymore feeling cold and alone), and stopped dead in the tracks, staring at his bed.

There was a rose on his pillow – a red, beautiful rose just lying there like it was no biggie, and Anthony was afraid to blink in fear it would disappear. He padded closer, staring at the flower, and then turned quickly, searching the shadows for any sign of Junior hanging around, ready to pounce. He found nothing, the flat was silent and dark, and the rose was still on the pillow when he turned back.

“Al, you fuckin’ softie,” he chuckled to himself, picking the rose with a smile playing on his lips, just to hiss immediately after when a thorn bit into his thumb, drawing blood. Of course the demon would leave all the thorns intact, if not even adding more, just to show him he’s not as soft as Anthony would think.

“Classic Alastor,” he shook his head and brought the rose to his lips. “Thank you.”

He missed the shadow slithering out of the room and disappearing in the radio softly buzzing in the kitchen.

***

2020, July 25th

“Jazz club?”

“I’m in a mood for some good live music,” Alastor opened another wardrobe in the bedroom and raked through the clothes on hangers, mostly scoffing in distaste. It was Saturday evening and the night was warm and lively, inviting them out. “Do you actually own anything presentable or is it all just random bright coloured horrors?”

“Excuse me,” Anthony pushed him to the side from the wardrobe opening and dived in himself, pulling out a pastel blue shirt with stitched flowers on its lapels. “I only have the nicest-,”

“Denied,” Alastor snatched it from his hand and threw it on the bed. “Try again.”

Anthony huffed but grabbed another of his favourite pieces, an old-pink V neck he couldn’t even properly present before Alastor was taking it out of his hold and throwing it on the bed too.

“Yer such a prude sometimes, holy shit,” he rolled his eyes. “What the fuck ya want me to wear then?”

“Something dashing, of course,” the demon eyed the closet one more time and then closed it with a scoff. “And something red too.”

So we match was left unsaid.

“Maybe you should try pink instead,” Anthony smirked but honestly it was better if Alastor never attempted that one. Red and black were his colours like an ingrained order of the world, any deviation from it would probably make it collapse.

He wasn’t surprised Alastor didn’t react. Instead the demon left the bedroom and Anthony followed him while thinking.

“I can wear a dress,” Anthony offered after a moment. “Like. Those nice jazzy cocktail dresses and feathers in hair in a pearl headdress. And do nice make up.”

“A dress?” Alastor repeated. “Do you own any?”

“Yeah, plenty,” the human shrugged. “Often from work, though it was other bar I worked in before. Most of the guys were in a drag, they taught me how to do my own make up and how to style the hair. Really enjoyed that place, too bad they closed it down once the owner shot himself cuz of his debts.”

“Unfortunate,” Alastor commented with a nod. “Though I do recall you were saying the bar you work in now have the costume events too. Are dresses part of it as well?”

“Anything goes,” Anthony shrugged. “Dresses, skimpy body suits, fishnets, business wear. It’s usually themed with the drinks and the food.” He didn’t miss Alastor’s eye roll when he mentioned the skimpy body suits, but at least Al didn’t comment on it.

“I suppose guests enjoy that kind of show,” Alastor said matter-of-factly and Anthony decided not to elaborate. Going to work no longer made him feel at ease, it was mostly automatic. He just shut down all of the negativity, did the work, slapped grabby hands and went home. It more or less kept him out of trouble so far.

“So? Want me to doll up?” he leered at the demon between the doors. “I even have a red dress that might be just what you’d like.”

Alastor looked curious, that was a good sign. It had been few years since Anthony dressed up like this, but it could be a nice change of pace and a treat for his favourite demon who might not have about any interest in intimacy but could get very appreciative when he saw something he liked.

“Please,” the static dropped from Alastor’s voice. “Surprise me, cher.”

Anthony beamed and disappeared in the bedroom.

***

“Grandma,” Anthony walked into the living room in high heels, a fluffy coat covering his body all the way to his knees. He immediately drew Alastor’s attention and saw his eyebrows shooting up. Before he could open his mouth and ask probably why the hell was Anthony wearing a winter coat in the middle of summer, the human dramatically threw the coat down, so it pooled around his feet and struck a pose. “It’s me! Anastasia!”

Cue for the laugh, though Alastor just remained staring without a single word and Anthony cackled and kicked the coat away back into the bedroom without bothering to put it on a hanger.

“Forgot ya don’t watch TV, joke’s lost on ya,” he commented dryly and walked closer, the heels clicking against the wooden floor rhythmically. Alastor still stared but reached out towards him, so Anthony put a hand into his and their fingers intertwined.

“Ya like?” he cocked his head to the side and Alastor actually beamed at him, his eyes raking appreciatively over the setup the human presented – deep red flapper dress with long, pearl necklace tied on his chest into a knot, with fishnets and open black heels, and long black gloves reaching just above his elbow. The red and black eyeshadow with perfect eyeliner took some time, but Anthony was proud of the result and judging from Alastor’s pleased expression it was worth the wait. He styled his hair into 20’s fashion (thanks google) and the only thing he was missing was the headdress and the feather, but he imagined it wouldn’t be a problem for Alastor if he asked for it.

“Vous êtes absolument époustouflant,” the fluent French came out and even though Anthony had no idea what it meant, he believed it was a compliment. At least the tone sounded like it was.

“Hehe,” he let Alastor to twirl him around and when he finally faced the demon again, he realized he was not in the pinstriped suit anymore, but instead of the coat there was an elegant black vest and the red shirt under had different pattern as well, all accompanied by a thin black tie.

“Damn, that’s pretty sweet, Al,” he gently patted the tie and Alastor offered his arm with a smile.

“I believe we’re ready now, cher,” the demon gestured towards the main door and Anthony locked their elbows together and let Alastor lead them out. He felt his palms sweating in the gloves, the last time he felt so nervous was maybe on his first real date, but he was so not telling that out loud.

***

Birdland jazz club was the first thing that Anthony thought of and Alastor seemed satisfied when they entered the building and found a place to sit. Going out with Alastor wasn’t as frequent as it could be, but Anthony didn’t mind it either way. The first time they ventured outside of the walls of Anthony’s flat was around March and it left Anthony wondering why nobody actually turned around when seeing Alastor from the get go – the suit, the hair, the red glowing eyes – not really a normal sight in New York, that for sure.

2020, March 24th

“They don’t see me like you do,” Alastor told him when they sat in a coffee shop and ordered. The waiter didn’t even bat an eyelash at the demon, and it left Anthony’s mind reeling. “They just see a normal person, not even that interesting.”

“As in completely different person?” Anthony inquired and Alastor gently touched his forehead before taking his hand back again. In that moment instead of the red-eyed demon there was a man in his thirties, if not younger, with wild brown hair, rather short and tousled, hazel eyes hidden under round glasses, in a white shirt and a vest, looking completely human and normal and honestly kind of cute?

“Oooh,” Anthony couldn’t help it, “what a cute guy, damn. Ya can change to whoever ya want?”

“Not really,” the human had Alastor’s radio voice, how bizarre. “This face… it’s not whoever, it’s just me.”

Anthony blinked, taking in the face and the eyes and the small smile, and oh, yeah, there was a resemblance now when he focused more, but that would mean…

“Wait. Ye were a human before becoming a demon?” he gaped in shock and one eyebrow shot up on the pretty human-Alastor face.

“How is that surprising? We even talked about my mother,” he shook his very human head. Damn, it was so strange, yet adorable. “Of course, I was a human. Then I died. Ended up in Hell.”

“I don’t know!” Anthony groaned. “I know we talked about it but I just… I mean ya seem like an important and strong kind of demon? Like Lucifer-kind of demon? Surely there are demons born in hell and not just sinners becoming ones?”

“Yes, hellborn demons are a thing,” Alastor nodded and then stopped talking when the waitress approached with their orders, placing a steaming cup of black coffee in front of Alastor and Frappuccino in front of Anthony. The demon eyed Anthony’s drink with distaste but didn’t comment on it. “It is amusing to topple them over, while being just a sinner.”

“But then… you don’t really hold your appearance when you get down there? Or did you choose it?” Anthony tilted his head to the side, not getting enough of this stranger in front of him. Familiar, yet not at all.

“You do not have a say in it,” Alastor answered simply. “The appearance the sinner take in Hell depends on his life or the way he died. There are variety of things in play.”

Anthony nodded thoughtfully while sipping his drink and then grinned around his straw.

“What,” Alastor narrowed his eyes at him and Anthony let the straw go with an audible pop.

“Well, didja fuck a deer~?”

2020, July 25th

Alastor ordered whiskey and Malibu Sunset for Anthony without even needing to ask his companion and the waiter eyed them both with a pleasant smile before leaving. The club was almost full, and the live band just started to perform, which made the ambience quite enjoyable. Anthony didn’t mind jazz, though he was not a die-hard fan of it either. He knew about the clubs but never actually came to chill in one like this before. It was… pretty nice, especially with the company. Alastor was holding his hand on the table, a gentle touch Anthony relished in, and for some reason here, sitting like this, he felt like his equal. Like not only as a pet project and a future pawn, but a partner.

“It is peculiar,” Alastor suddenly spoke, his eyes meeting Anthony’s again. “For how much the world changed, jazz clubs are still feeling almost the same to me.”

“Compared to which year?” Anthony asked, holding his gaze and felt a thumb gently caressing the back of his hand.

“1930,” Alastor smiled with surprising gentleness. “What a year.”

1930. He didn’t know when exactly Alastor died, but if in 1930 he was enjoying jazz clubs, he must have been an adult already. It made him 80 years old past his death at least.

“30’s baby,” Anthony chuckled. “No wonder you don’t fancy TV. It was probably just coming out?”

“Yes, the biggest wave came after I died, thankfully,” a clear distaste in Alastor’s voice was hilarious. “Would prefer radio anyway. It was my job after all.”

“A radio host?” Anthony guessed as much, and the demon hummed while sipping his whiskey. It fitted him, that sort of occupation. “Well, I dunno what ya did in your life to end up in hell,” he leaned against his palm, smiling at Alastor softly, “but yer biggest sin is not talkin’ in that accent of yers. And I mean it. It’s so hot.”

“Correct speech was a must for a radio,” Alastor said primly, but he looked very relaxed talking about it. “Talkin’ like dis would make me a garbage host.”

“I could listen to ya for hours tho,” Anthony grinned and Alastor glanced back to the live band with a small smile, still holding Anthony’s hand.

The night passed fast with great music and maybe a little more alcohol then they planned on drinking, but they could still walk on their own legs when leaving. When drunk, Alastor dropped the correct speech entirely and was extremely touchy feely, which reduced Anthony into a giggling mess.

“You’re a lovely companion, cher,” he was crooning at Anthony when they were walking home through the New York streets, arm sneaked around Anthony’s waist. “Da deal we made was da best thing dat happened to me in a long time.”

“Oh, man, Al,” Anthony couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Ya know how to flatter a guy, huh.”

“Truth is da sincerest form of flattery!” Alastor spun the human around, twirling him on the pavement like a ballerina, then stilling him again with both hands holding his waist. “And I mean every word.”

“Ha, are ya this happy because of the dress?” he batted his eyelashes at the demon and Alastor’s hands slid lower to Anthony’s hips before returning to his waist, an appreciative touch that made Anthony’s breath hitch.

“It suits you,” Alastor concluded, standing close and personal. “Da whole look suits you so well. But even in your pink distasteful pieces of cloth you call fashion, you still look da best.”

“O-ooh, boy,” Anthony felt his heartbeat speed up. If he’d only slightly dipped his head, he could be kissing the man in front of him. Maybe normally he even would if his partner wasn’t a demonic deer with intimacy aversion. But he didn’t want to fuck this up. Holy shit, he would really go and kill himself if he fucked it up now of all times by not holding his horses and forcing himself on an obvious asexual only enjoying the company, while having too many drinks to keep his defences up.

“T-thanks, Al,” he gulped down the cringy nicknames he would use on anybody else after a date night. “Yer the best company I could’ve hoped for too.”

He was adamantly sure it wasn’t him who brought them together, that it was Alastor’s hand grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him lower and then pressing their lips together in a quick kiss, and Alastor’s body pushing against his, and also Alastor who stepped away again with half lidded eyes and a sly smile, saying: “Remember, you’re mine forever.”

Anthony was never, ever going to forget that.

***

2020, July 26th

It was the rhythmical beat of rain against the windowsill that woke Anthony up. The weather let up a little and allowed a little colder wind to blow through the windows and it felt so pleasant Anthony just buried his face back into the warmth and breathed out in contentment. It took him a moment before he realized the warmth was Alastor’s chest and that there were Alastor’s arms holding him firmly in place and their legs were intertwined and even though it was nothing new, he suddenly felt his heart speeding up almost in panic and he blinked in confusion on why the hell would he freak out now after more than half a year of sleeping with the demon like this.

It hit him just a little while later – because Alastor kissed him yesterday. On his own. While drunk.

Nothing happened afterwards, they just stumbled back home and Alastor was clingy and by some miracle Anthony managed to get rid of the make up and change into an oversized t-shirt before collapsing to bed with the demon draped around his torso, mumbling sweet nothings like a suave Casanova with zero experience and then they both fell asleep.

He knew Alastor had his clingy moments, usually when really, really tired, so it made sense his drunk self would be probably another extension of that behaviour. But the kiss was still unexpected, and Anthony was terrified of the consequences. He could see Alastor freaking out over it when sober, he could imagine him being distant and cold to deal with the situation, to keep Anthony on arm’s length again, and it was making him sad. He could maybe hope Alastor would draw blanks after the night, but he didn’t drink himself to stupor, so the chances of that were quite low.

He looked up to the sleeping face of his companion, relaxed and content, and just thought fuck, why is he so lovable sometimes? Why couldn’t he be more demonic, more heartless, or crueller for Anthony to keep at least his metaphorical heart to himself? Why was watching him sleep pulled so many strings in him? Why his presence was so dear and needed? Why falling in love always happened with the worst kind of person?

“Are you tryin’ to curse me, cher?”

Anthony whined and buried his face back into Alastor’s chest. Of course the fucker was awake, witnessing Anthony’s existential crisis.

“I’d recommend voodoo for dat,” the demon had no mercy. “It’s lot less messy.”

“I’m bad ad sewin’,” Anthony mumbled into the red shirt and the laugh Alastor let out rumbled in his chest like thunderstorm. His clawed hand raked through Anthony’s hair with gentleness and it was too much for his poor, weak heart.

“This is gonna sound morbid, but…” he started quietly, “I can’t wait to be dead. So I can be with ya down there.”

The hand stilled for a fraction of second before resuming its pace.

“Dis is gonna be morbid as well, but I can’t wait for you to be ded too, to be with me down dere,” Alastor’s other hand moved to rest on the small of Anthony’s back, the warmth seeping into his body like poison. “To belon’ to me and do my biddin’ any time I’d want you to.”

“Fuck, that’s kinda hot?” Anthony groaned. “Imagine talking like this in front of people though. Can’t wait for you to die already, babe! Like shit, is he a murderer? Is he gonna slice his throat in bed?”

“Romance done right.”

“Till death do us apart… for a moment, until we’re pass that phase,” Anthony couldn’t help but chuckle. Honestly, he never thought about dying as much prior meeting Alastor, like he knew it was going to happen eventually – sooner or later, it depended a lot on drugs and work and attitude – but there were no deep feelings about his life ending. Not even that much fear. But now? It was like a gateway he couldn’t wait to pass, and it was a little fucked up.

“Lookin’ forward to it,” Alastor sighed and yeah, he didn’t help, really. “Comin’ here so often is quite taxin’. I adore bein’ with you, but it would be even better when we’re both in Hell, havin’ you on my lap-,”

“On your lap?!” Anthony whipped his head up, grinning. “So yer a kinky bastard after all!”

“Nothin’ kinky about wantin’ to keep you close,” the demon was so confident all of sudden, sheesh. Was he still a little drunk? He never talked about things like these – hell, he never actually expressed his feelings toward Anthony so openly, unless it was his shadow who, instead of words, was showing him by nuzzles. Sure, it was apparent he liked Anthony at least a little, but now it scaled up so much Anthony was scared it was just a dream and he was going to wake up soon.

“On yer lap, with your dick out, huh?” Stumbled out of Anthony’s mouth, out of habit, honestly, and he immediately regretted it. Alastor, as expected, scoffed at it.

“Darlin’, we’ve talked ‘bout dis.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anthony rested his chin on the back of his hands. It was somewhere in April, if he remembered correctly, when Alastor informed him sex was probably as interesting to him as stepping into muddy puddle and then having to clean his shoes. Anthony took it as it were – it was in their deal anyway about the intimacy and sexual stuff, so it didn’t come as much as a surprise to hear Alastor was purely asexual character. It was still fun to rile him up sometimes though. “Just want ya to know ya can do anythin’ yer want to me. Even here.”

“You’re always so sincere, cher,” Alastor’s hand previously in Anthony’s hair slid down to his cheek, gently caressing it.

“Life sucks anyway,” Anthony leaned into the touch. “Every time yer not here, it’s like it loses colours. Like yer my impulse control and when I can’t be with ya, I do stupid shit. Like drugs.”

“Lately?”

“On occasion. When alone for too long,” Anthony admitted not too proudly. It was difficult to let it go completely, no matter how Alastor filled the void. Once he was gone, the void returned. “Makes me feel better. When yer here, it’s like I’m addicted to ya and need to fill that void with somethin’ when ya leave.”

“Can’t be helped,” the demon’s thumb slid down to Anthony’s lips, the claw gently pressing down and easing up. Anthony felt an urge to lick it, but Alastor would probably smack him if he did.

“Shouldn’t ya be discouraging me?” he teased a little and Alastor raised an eyebrow.

“Do I look like an angel to you?” he asked with a tilt in his voice and Anthony shrugged.

“Yer trying to fix me.”

“To feel more confident, not a saint,” Alastor opposed and Anthony hissed when the claw cut the tender skin on his lower lip, a drop of blood appearing.

“…fair,” he hummed, watching Alastor stare at the redness with half-lidded eyes before he suddenly pulled Anthony close and licked the droplet away, making him shudder.

“I can’t let you be too much of a good boy,” the demon whispered to his lips. “Or we’d have a problem with upstairs.”

“And we don’t want that,” Anthony added breathlessly, and his partner smirked.

“We really don’t, darlin’.”

***

2020, October 9th

It was a rare moment – rarer than seeing a rainbow after rain, but it was there. Alastor allowing Anthony to touch his hair and ears, while sitting on a couch in the living room, reading a book he brought along from hell. They were in the middle of preparing dinner but there was at least 30 minutes of downtime and Alastor thought it was the best time to study some of his hell shit, like Anthony wasn’t there, ready for a cuddle.

Unfair.

So he stood behind the couch, right above Alastor’s head and risked a gentle scrape of fingers through the red and black locks. Alastor didn’t react, which normally meant a green light for whatever Anthony was up to, so he buried his hand in his hair and while the demon made a humming noise in the back of his throat, he didn’t stop him. So he played around, twirling the strands, pulling them back, braiding some, poking the ears till they flicked, until he started pulling the hair back from Alastor’s face and from the sides into a neat ponytail he secured with a hairband he had on his wrist from his own hair care just an hour ago and left it there.

Alastor… with a ponytail. Huh.

He circled the sofa and stopped in the front, taking the sight of the new style in, and yeah, okay, that shouldn’t really make him this horny, but it did.

“Am I gonna regret lettin’ you play with my hair, darlin’?” Alastor glanced at him from the book and Anthony buried his face in his hands.

“No, but now I regret ya let me because I made ya even fuckin’ hotter,” he whined.

Alastor delivered an overkill when he rolled his sleeves up once they got back to cooking and left the ponytail be. Anthony was pretty sure he was only preparing him for the suffering in hell in his own way.

***

2020, November 11th

The first time he had thought of taking off Alastor’s gloves were on Wednesday evening while resting his head on the demon’s legs, playing with the hem of them. He had never seen Alastor taking them off – ever. Honestly he never saw him take off about anything except of his shoes and his coat, but even when he rolled up his sleeves, he left the gloves on and Anthony thought he maybe just had a thing about touching stuff with his bare hands - some people did. He knew there were scars on Alastor’s forearms and his chest, he had seen them when he unbuttoned his shirt a little, so maybe his hands were the same and he didn’t like showing them. Alastor didn’t strike him as somebody who cared as much about other people’s opinion, but he knew appearances might be deceptive. With Alastor’s obvious control kink the image he presented himself with probably played its role.

He was dragging his nails over the fabric of the burgundy gloves with thoughtful hum and when Alastor didn’t protest in any way, he slid two fingers under the hem, touching the bare palm of the demon’s hand. Still no reaction that would mean Alastor hated it, which encouraged him to continue.

The tip of his tongue peaked out in concentration as he tried to fit more in, at which Alastor finally cleared his throat above him.

“Darlin’,” he crooned. “What’re you doin’?”

“Havin’ sex with yer hands, duh.” He wiggled his fingers a little and Alastor sighed while grabbing the offensive hand and stopped the ministrations. “Aww.”

“Leave my hands outta your crudeness,” the demon flicked his forehead instead and then rested his hand back on Anthony’s chest where it was before. It only took about ten seconds before Anthony was on it again and at that point Alastor just grabbed his wrist and held it up.

“Nooo,” the human tried to wriggle out of the hold, but the grip was inhumanly strong. “Spoilsport. It’s not like I’d do somethin’ dirty to it… maybe.”

“Whateva you say, darlin’,” Alastor didn’t budge, obviously. But at least it made Anthony think of something else when it came to Alastor’s elusive hands.

“Let’s make a deal then,” he proposed, grinning at his partner’s confused expression. “You lemme take off yer gloves. And I won’t do anything bad to yer hands.”

“Dat sounds like a rubbish deal,” Alastor shook his head. “No dice.”

“Then… what do ya want in exchange?” he batted his eyelashes seductively, which had about zero, if not minus, effect on the demon. “Imma game for anythin’.”

There was a gleam in Alastor’s eyes as if he thought of something wicked and manipulative, and then his smile widened. Anthony thought of anything – eternal enslavement, monthly donation of human souls, not talking for a week-

“I want t’ see you in a suit.”

“Say what now?”

“I’ll let you take my gloves off, but I get to see you in a suit,” came a term and Alastor was positively beaming now, which was weird, because… a suit? Was that even a proper condition? He could have just asked; it wasn’t like Anthony had an aversion to wear fully buttoned up clothing or something. Sure, he didn’t love it, but to make a deal out of it?

“I mean… sure?” The grip on his wrist disappeared and Anthony sat up, still confused. When a hand appeared with familiar green shine, he checked once more for Alastor’s happy expression and then took it, feeling the tingle running down his spine.

“Pleasure doin’ business with you, darlin’,” Alastor gently grabbed Anthony’s chin to raise up his head a little. “Now dress up. I’ll be waitin’.”

“Yer a public menace,” the human barked out a laugh but got up anyway. He was pretty sure he still had a suit from the cabaret night and could only hope it would still fit.

It fit. He liked the suit because despite wearing it just once, it fitted him like a glove and even though he wasn’t exactly a fan of black and white setup, it had its charm once in a while. The well-tailored vest and close-fitting pants still made a nice figure and Anthony vaguely remembered the cabaret night granted him quite a bit of extra money, just because of how the pants hugged his ass (and because of his pretty face too, he was confidently sure. He didn’t even need to suck anybody’s dick that night).

He checked himself in a mirror for the last time, trying to find any imperfection he could somehow remedy, until he was completely satisfied and returned to the living room with surprisingly nervous expectations.

“No Anastasia today?” Alastor greeted him with a small smile standing near the couch, and Anthony fidgeted, not really feeling that confident in the clothes as he ironically was in the dress before.

“Wouldn’t wanna make the same joke twice, ya know,” he rubbed the back of his neck and took two more steps closer to where Alastor was standing. “Well. Here I am. In a plain boring suit just for yer viewing pleasure.”

“Pleasure indeed,” the demon looked delighted, which still baffled him, but maybe he had a thing for suits in his asexual spectrum, why not. Then he offered his hand for Anthony to take, palm up, and he realized the gloves were already off. Alastor’s hands were black as night with long, red claws gradually darkening until the blackness swallowed the colour. The obsidian shade was stopping in tendrils around his wrists like the shadows were swallowing his hands in a provocative manner and Anthony had an urge to rub his face all over it.

He must have stared for too long because the hand started pulling away and Anthony panicked with low nonono and grabbed it like a frightened animal.

“Ya can’t just flash it and then walk away with it, sheesh,” he grumbled, holding the hand in both of his and it was smooth and somehow warm, and feeling like a human hand, sort of, but at the same time not really? He couldn’t tell for sure. He wondered how it would taste if he licked it.

“You looked put off, didn’t wanna flaunt it ‘round,” Alastor’s voice cracked his concentration and it made him look up to the demon’s face in surprise. The smile he had was tight – was he self-conscious about it? In all its strangeness his hands were like some famous artist’s masterpiece, nothing to be conscious about.

“Well, ya should flaunt it around,” he said firmly. “Damn, it’s like. Really cool and kinda creepy, I like it.”

The hand visibly relaxed, the claws opened, and Anthony couldn’t stop himself anymore, he just rubbed his cheek against it like an affectionate cat and heard Alastor’s breath hitch in his throat.

Score.

“That feels so niiiice,” he purred happily. “And for just one lousy in-suit evening, ya should feel cheated.”

“Quite the opposite, darlin’,” another clawed hand joined the first one and then Alastor was holding his face on both sides, gently rubbing his cheeks, and Anthony was pretty sure he had the most dorky expression on his face right now but didn’t care. “You look dashin’.”

“Mmmhm,” Anthony grinned, and his hands covered the clawed ones and squeezed. “How ‘bout you walk back a bit.”

“Walk back?” the demon tilted his head, but did as he was told, just to lose his balance immediately after two steps when his knees hit the edge of the couch (Anthony pushed him slightly so he would fall right into sitting position, because he was a little shit and had a plan). Before Alastor could say anything else (though he didn’t look like he wanted to), Anthony sat on top of him, knees next to his thighs and took one of the blackened hand and gave the pointing finger an experimental lick.

Alastor immediately bristled like Anthony just flashed him, the static buzzing to life and off the roof, and shit, it should have scared him, but it did not. He stopped though, watching the demon with seductive smile and Alastor gradually breathed in and out and the static stopped again.

“Scary,” Anthony winked at him, still holding the hand in his, and Alastor shook his head and flexed his claws.

“You try your luck too often,” he just said in a low, warning voice.

“I know,” the human positioned the clawed hand on his chest, right where his heart was beating, vulnerable and open, and smiled. “I’m goin’ to be good from now on. Promise.”

“Moderately,” Alastor added.

“Ya know it.”

Their hands intertwined and Anthony was pretty sure during this night the defences Alastor had lowered for him once more.

***

2021, February 9th

When it came to birthdays, Anthony normally ignored them. Since almost no one knew the date, he was mostly safe to spend the day as any other, so it actually came as a surprise when Anthony brought home bouquet of roses from work (ironically from the patrons and not from co-workers, go and figure) for his birthday and put it in a vase on the table in the living room. It was rather nice of them, sure, though it only fuelled the disdain from his co-workers further. He more or less forgot about it up until Alastor showed up in the evening and noticed the newest addition.

“I thought the Lover’s day is on 14th,” Alastor watched the bouquet as if it would explode any moment, his eyes narrowed.

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Anthony peeked in from the kitchen. “Valentine’s Day is on 14th. This is cuz of my birthday.”

“Your birthday is today?” the demon left the bouquet alone and joined Anthony in the kitchen, his tone surprised. “You did not say anything.”

“Well, cuz it’s not really important,” Anthony shrugged while slicing meat. Even though he normally ignored this day, he kind of wanted to make something special for Alastor, if anything else. As a treat for himself. “Nothing worth to celebrate.”

“What a strange thing to say,” Alastor leaned with his back against the counter right next to Anthony, his expression curious. “Mortals normally enjoy celebrating their birthday. Mainly because of gifts, at least?”

“Well, I’m a special case.”

“Not enjoying gifts?” That was a stupid question. Of course Anthony enjoyed gifts as long as they were not mean or overly sexual, but along with his miserable life his birthday mostly left a bitter taste in his mouth every year.

“As much as any other John, obviously,” he glanced at Alastor with a smirk. “It’s just… not my thing. To celebrate the day I was born.”

“I see,” Alastor nodded thoughtfully. “Would it be an overstep if I said I would like to celebrate it with you?”

“You would?” Anthony stopped with the meat preparations and turned to face the demon, a weird flicker of happiness igniting in him.

“Celebrating the day you were born seems very fitting,” Alastor’s smile widened. “Otherwise we would never meet. And I treasure the moment when we did.”

“Aww,” Anthony cooed, and it was nice, to be told by the person you were crushing on.

“Though I must admit,” Alastor tilted his head to the side. “I am not entirely sure what is the norm in this century.”

“We can bake a cake?” Anthony offered. He was pretty sure he had all the ingrediencies stocked. “I guess people usually do that. Then they wish happy b-day and lots of health and good fortune or… I don’t know, I don’t usually do this shtick. They smooch maybe too. Or shake hands. Same thing for some people.”

“Oh,” Alastor looked thoughtful. “That sounds amendable.”

“Yeah, we can try-mmph?!” Out of anything that could possibly happen to him on his wretched birthday, Alastor pushing him against the counter and kissing him was definitely not one of them. Sure, they did kiss sometimes, though it was usually chaste and almost innocent?

Well, this was extremely far from innocent. This involved tongue. This was some other Alastor possessing the demon’s body, ravishing his mouth in the kitchen on his birthday while his hands cupped Anthony’s face and his thumbs were gently caressing his cheekbones, and what the hell, the gloves were off too, it made Anthony melt. Alastor was nipping on his lower lip and then diving back in, and Anthony felt his body shiver and his hands gripped the pinstriped coat in fear Alastor would stop or something, and when the demon let go of him with a last obscene lick, he realized he was basically on verge of suffocating already without his brain notifying him. He gasped for air with a shudder and Alastor joined their foreheads together, his smile small and private.

“Happy birthday, darlin’,” he purred. “Thank you for bein’ born.”

Anthony made an inhumane voice in the back of his throat and clung to his demon as if his life depended on it.

Maybe his birthday was not so bad after all.

(Later he found the bouquet in the trash and a new and much bigger one on the table instead. Alastor acted like he had no idea what happened.)

***

2024, October 1st

When Anthony thought about dying at any point of his life, it just meant the end. He didn’t know how he was going to die, but that usually changed each year. As a teenager, he wanted to commit suicide several times a year, mainly from age 15 to 17. He wasn’t sure what exactly stopped him each time, but somehow, he pulled through. In his mid-twenties it was a risk from the outer sources – too tight squeezes of hands around his neck when having sex, too many drugs in his system, too much alcohol. Once even a stab wound from his crazy ex. Granted, Anthony almost killed him back on the spot – though later he found out the fucker died in the hospital. So technically it wasn’t exactly murder? It should have been though.

Anyway. When he hit 30, he felt like his mind was on verge of breaking and any kind of distraction was strong enough to keep him occupied. He thought about death from time to time, but always stopped his hand reaching for a knife in the kitchen, thinking maybe, just maybe there is more to life than stubbornly surviving days, weeks, months of his miserable life for no reason.

At age 31 he summoned a demon and for four years his life turned to be enjoyable three times a week, and sometimes even five. He gave his heart and soul to hell for company, and fell in love with a force of nature, a whirlwind of emotions, a lovely devil. He never, ever regretted a single day spent with Alastor, a single hour, a minute, a second. Despite their occasional quarrels, their differences, and their triggers, they enjoyed each other’s company. They learned through their mistakes and they made each other stronger through the weaknesses, and while all that was slowly fading away in staccato of painful spasms and tears, Anthony still felt fondness and maybe even a twinge of happiness of his cage finally breaking free, even though it hurt like a bitch and he felt sick and alone.

It wasn’t like he wanted to die. He didn’t think 35 was some kind of milestone of life and death, a crossroad not meant to be crossed.

But he was tired. He was lonely. He wanted and craved and yearned for more of something that was out of his reach, no matter how much he tried to grab it, to pull it close.

You are still alive, mon chéri, and it is yours and only yours to live. I do not want you to regret it, no matter how much I want you with me. I might have forfeited my life, but your heart still beats. Do not waste it.

Anthony thought Alastor was being cold that day. He thought they were just words said to placate him somehow, a lie spilled to keep him here. If he wanted, if he craved like Anthony did, would he say please live to him? Right after spilling his heart? Even though they both wanted to be together? Even when they both morbidly dreamed about Anthony’s eventual death?

Now, thinking back to it… he saw what he meant. Now, when everything was turning cold and distant and dark, he realized dying at 35 is young and stupid and wasteful.

Yet he didn’t regret it. He was never going to regret selling his soul to a devil and leaving a place that only brought him pain in a ditch.

The only thing he regretted was dying alone in a dirty bathroom, but… it wasn’t like he could choose anyway.

“There, there, darlin’.”

There were warm hands holding his face. Everything felt raw and searing, like falling through liquid fire.

“Breathe.”

He tried to, but only hacked out blood. He shook his head, curling into himself. The hands gently petted his hair.

“Now, now, my heart,” the voice cooed. “My everything. You are safe now. You belong to me.”

He felt a pain in his chest, like his heart was torn out and left a gaping chasm behind. It was like tasting despair and ash on tip of his tongue.

“Nobody will ever hurt you again, cher,” a gentle reminder, a curtain hiding the missing organ in his body, a beautiful lie. “Nobody, ever again.”

He submitted to it and the pain disappeared.

***

2024, 359th day

“I can’t believe that! Ya almost ate my pig!”

“I thought it lost its way here and it is time for dinner, it was only appropriate.”

“How dare ya! Ya monster!”

“Can you two keep it down?!” A screech came from the stairs and halted the crossfire like a switch before the owner of the voice even entered their field of vision, a fair hair flowing around a pretty face, a fierce glare seizing them. “Bloody old-married couple, do it somewhere else!”

“What she said,” a grumble agreed from the bar, and a tall, four-armed spider demon picked a small pig from the floor and cuddled it to his fluffy chest, cooing at it gently.

“Well, sorry for trying to save my little baby from this guy,” he glared at his enemy from under long, white fringe. “He’d eat him. Eat Fat Nuggets!”

“Oh dear, you already named it?” the red-eyed demon twirled his microphone in his hand, his smile widening. “You should have told me. Would adjust the name on the menu.”

“Keep talkin’, big boy, I have enough venom to make you spend your day in agony,” the spider hissed and the pig in his arms snorted happily, apparently finding all the commotion amusing. “And not the good kind.”

“I am looking forward to it, darlin’,” Alastor crooned and Vaggie made a retching noise when she finally reached the bar. Husker didn’t need her to ask for a drink, he was already pouring her one – and one for himself. It wasn’t like she condoned the bar in the hotel, but sometimes it was a much-needed way of coping, especially when it came to these two.

“Can you leave already?” she turned back towards them once she gulped the alcohol down, grimacing at the burn crawling down her throat. “Angel was talking about this for a week and now you stand here for whatever reason for half an hour, you should’ve been gone by now!”

“I wasn’t talkin’ about it for a week,” Angel shot back while pursing his lips. “Just few days, maybe.”

“A week?” Alastor crossed his arms on his chest. “Lucky. I was hearing about it since he got here.”

“Well excuse me for being sentimental,” Angel stuck his tongue at him and walked towards the bar, handing Fat Nuggets to Husker, who eyed the pig warily.

“I ain’t looking after that fucking thing.”

“Pleaaase.”

A groan, but the cat demon took it, rolling his eyes. “Last time though.”

“Sure thing, hot stuff,” Angel winked and left the bar in easy stride, joining Alastor in the middle of the hall. “Shall we?”

“Only waitin’ for you, cher,” Alastor offered his arm and Angel locked their elbows together. “You sure you don wanna take da pig with you?”

“Why?”

“A late night snack.”

“I’ll fuckin’ smack ya, stop it,” he grumbled at the laugh Alastor didn’t even bother hiding, and let the man lead them out of the hotel.

The red sky above their heads was like an everlasting void pierced by a tall, dark tower in the distance and Angel kind of liked how demons were afraid to come close to it, yet to him the place felt like home. The Radio tower came with big overlord territory and despite it being rather far from the hotel, Angel insisted on walking instead of Alastor using the portals to get them there in seconds. It just felt more date-like rather than abusing the Radio Demon powers and Alastor didn’t argue about that – which was nice because normally he argued about everything for the sport of it.

“I guess it makes sense,” Angel hummed while leaning into Alastor’s warmth on their way through the Pentagram city. “Christmas is ‘bout Jesus being born and shit. No reason to celebrate it here.”

“I was wonderin’ when you’d find out,” Alastor responded matter-of-factly. “Christmas bein’ a big Christian secret.”

“Har har,” the spider demon nudged him. “I’m new, don’t make fun of me. Can’t help I miss it.”

“Of course you miss it,” Alastor freed himself from Angel’s hold, just to sneak his arm around his waist, pulling him closer. “It’s when you met me.”

“Yer so fuckin’ cocky, maybe I just miss the presents,” Angel crossed his upper arms on his chest, but his lower one curled around Alastor’s waist as well.

“I’m da only present you’ll ever need~,” the Radio demon singsonged and Angel barked out a laugh.

“Guess that’s not completely wrong,” he admitted and when he felt a hand on the back of his neck, he met Alastor’s lips halfway in a chaste kiss, both not even stopping on their way to the tower.

“You’re da only one for me too,” Alastor whispered softly. “My dear Anthony.”

Angel couldn’t help but think life is fucking overrated when your boyfriend is owning your heart in all kinds of ways.

#hazbin hotel #radiodust #alastor x angel dust #au #the deal series #human!angel dust

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snarkybluechristian · 5 years ago

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Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 44

Angel opened his eyes and blinked slowly. All around him was darkness. He looked at the ceiling, and then at his bed, but he couldn’t clearly see anything.

As he laid there on his bed letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, Angel remembered what had happened the night before. Despite his drugged state at the time, he could remember most of what had transpired. Angel remembered the auction, Valentino, the rescue, Molly, Vaggie, Cherri, Charlie showing up to help them, and then falling asleep in that limo.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Whoosh.

Angel started for a moment before he realized what the sound was. It was the air coming on to cool down or warm up…wherever he was.

There were several places where Angel could be. He wasn’t in his room at the hotel with Fat Nuggets there to cuddle next to him. So, Angel had to be at Cherri’s or Molly’s.

Wherever Angel was, it was still too early to wake up. At least by his standards. Angel’s eyes finally caught sight of the light of a window seeping in and reflecting Hell’s morning light or whatever you called it on the ceiling. There was plenty of time to sleep, especially after the night he had.

Angel closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep again.

The room was dark and cool. The air conditioning vent was on at full blast, cooling the cold the room even more. Without a thought, he tried reaching his hands down to pull the blanket more tightly around his slender form, but as he attempted lifting his hands, he felt resistance.

“What the…?” Angel asked himself quietly as he tried pulling his hands back again just as unsuccessfully as the first time.

Angel felt his two pairs of hands around his restraints and felt leather cuffs around his wrists.

“What the fuck is…?” Angel asked himself anxiously just as another important memory struck him like a bat to the head.

The note Vaggie risked her neck to sneak him through the vent, the note that he found when Rosie shoved him into the bathroom to use the toilet before she scrubbed him clean for the auction, the note he then flushed down the toilet after reading, it described something like this...

It was only then that Angel’s eyes had adjusted enough to notice that the walls of the room were covered with padding.

Angel felt a shiver run down his spine that froze his blood more than the room’s excessive air conditioning. At that moment, he realized not only where he was but what had happened to everyone else.

“Oh, God…” Angel squeaked out, feeling the fear rush over him like a massive wave.

Angel was about to summon his third pair of arms to make a break for it when he heard a door open and what sounded like a small group of demons ambling down a stone staircase.

Once they reached the bottom, the group made their way to the door and opened it.

Angel managed to sit himself up on his elbows just as the lights were flicked on. The bright fluorescent lights stung his eyes and caused him to fall back on his back.

“Wakey, wakey, little brother,” Arackniss’s voice rang through the small room.

Two other figures entered the room and stood over his bed as Angel’s vision struggled to adjust to the light.

“Good morning, Anthony,” a large gray figure said. “I am Dr. Red, and I will be in charge of your gay conversion therapy program.”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” Angel shrieked. “What happened?! Where are the ladies?!”

“Ladies?” the gray figure asked with a hint of excitement.

“My friends!” Angel retorted. “Vaggie, Cherri, Charlie, and Molly! What did you do to them?!”

Henroin took out the cigar he was puffing on, blew smoke into the air, and scoffed, “Those drugs must have knocked you out sooner than we thought. The long and short of it is that our group caught up to yours, son. Your princess friend tried to stop Alastor, but Daddy Dearest showed up and stopped her and now everyone is where they need to be. Vaggie is back with Alastor, Lucifer took the princess home with him, we dropped Molly off at her place, and now, you’re home with us.”

“What about Cherri?” Angel asked. “Where is she? What the fuck did you bastards do to her?!”

“She’s fine,” Arackniss answered, finally entering the room himself. “You don’t need to worry, Anthony…”

“You didn’t answer where,” Angel snarled.

Arackniss scoffed and said, “That is none of your concern, little brother.”

As his eyes finally adjusted to the light, Angel glared at Arackniss and replied, “Then what is my concern, asshat?!”

Henroin chuckled maliciously and replied, “You’re about to find out.”

Angel moved his head to quip at his father, but his eyes instantly fell on Dr. Red.

Dr. Red was a gargoyle demon with stony flesh, a pointed chin, wings furled up against his back, horns on the top of his head, ruby red eyes, and a slender frame that made him at least a head taller than Henroin. His hair and every other feature were the same shade of stony gray flesh. The only color on him came from his ruby eyes, his black pupils, and the clothes he wore. He was dressed in a white lab coat, a black sweater, brown trousers, black shoes, and glasses over his eyes.

Angel smirked and whistled seductively as Dr. Red came walking closer to his bed and said, “Hello, handsome. How’s about you clear out the room so the two of us can have some fun? I can’t say no.”

Dr. Red grimaced, pulled the blanket off Angel’s body, and replied in a cold and logical voice, “So, you’re the infamous Angel Dust. You have quite the reputation.”

Angel licked his lips seductively and said, “So, you have heard of me. Come closer, baby. I’m always available for my fans.”

SMACK!

Dr. Red responded to Angel’s advance with a slap to the face.

“Don’t even think about it,” Dr. Red said sternly.

Angel squealed seductively in response and gushed, “Oh, Daddy, you have such strong hands! They’re literally made of stone. Does that hardness extend everywhere, Doctor?”

Dr. Red grimaced, turned back to Henroin, pulled out a notepad, and said, “This is a rather severe case. How long has your son been like this?”

“Basically, since he became a man,” Henroin replied. “We started really noticing after his mother died.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Red said, writing on his notepad.

“You know I’m right here, right?” Angel asked sarcastically. “I’ve been this way since I was old enough to fall in love…”

“Hey!” Arackniss interrupted from his spot on the wall. “You won’t interrupt the good doctor if you know what’s good for ya!”

“You ain’t even in this conversation,” Angel retorted, sitting up on his elbows again. “Fuck off!”

“BOYS!” Henroin snapped.

“No, no, Don Henroin,” Dr. Red reassured him without looking up from the notepad he was writing on. “This is great for my notes and treatment plan. It seems to me that our patient may be traumatized from the loss of his mother…”

Angel couldn’t hold his composure anymore.

“Mom had nothing to do with this!” Angel snapped angrily. “You fucking leave her out of this!”

“Angry outburst,” Dr. Red said out loud while continuing to write in his notepad. “Definite emotional trauma present.”

Angel growled angrily.

“We’re going to need to move on to more invasive procedures,” Dr. Red said to Henroin and Arackniss, finally putting away his notepad in the pocket of his lab coat. “His mind is in too heavy a state of anger, apprehension, and agitation to be pliable at this time.”

“So, what do we do?” Henroin asked.

“I need you two to help me move him to the chair,” Dr. Red replied.

“You got it,” Henroin said with a malicious smile. “Arackniss?”

“Coming,” Arackniss said, finally moving off his spot on the wall.

Henroin and Arackniss moved to either side of the bed and undid the straps holding down Angel’s arms and feet.

Angel laid down as his father and brother loosened the straps holding him down. He then allowed them to help him sit up on his bed while Dr. Red watched them by the side of the door.

That was when Angel made his next move.

“That’s right,” Dr. Red said. “Easy does it...ANTHONY!”

Angel summoned guns with all three pairs of hands and pointed each pair at a different person.

Angel then hopped on the floor and began moving his bare feet gingerly across the padded floor towards the door while his head moved back and forth to keep his eyes on all of them. He even opened his other six eyes to help him out.

Dr. Red and the Spider family did not act surprised and barely even flinched when they saw the guns. They simply stood there coolly as if they were waiting for Angel say his peace in a conversation.

For Angel, it was off-putting to say the least. The trio of demons weren’t scared at all. They simply watched him and waited as he backed his way up to the door as if this were a planned scene in one of his pornos.

“The doctor is just trying to help you, Anthony,” Arackniss said calmly.

“Yeah, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, son,” Henroin said just as coolly.

Angel leered furiously at his father and older brother and snarled, “Listen here, you motherfucking…HEY!”

When Angel turned his head, Dr. Red snuck up behind him, grew a few feet taller and more muscular evidently, threw a pillow case over Angel’s head, wrapped both pairs of arms around Angel’s, and picked him up off the ground all in the span of a few seconds.

“Grab his guns now!” Dr. Red yelled.

Angel cursed loudly as he thrashed around and fired his guns. The pillowcase over his head was dark. He couldn’t see what he was aiming at, but he could hear his Dad and brother fall on the padded floor and the telltale sound of cushions exploding.

Unfortunately for him, Angel couldn’t get too many shots out before he felt his guns getting shot out of his hands in six quickfire shots.

“Good work, Arackniss…” Dr. Red said.

Of course. Screw his brother’s perfect aim.

“…Now, help me get Angel to his jacket just like we practiced,” Dr. Red finished calmly.

“PRACTICED?!” Angel screamed, thrashing wildly as he felt Dr. Red dragging him into the next room while Henroin and Arackniss ran past them. “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!”

“Just something to calm you down for the procedure, son,” Henroin replied with a smile in his voice.

“What the fuck are ya…HEY!” Angel yelled as he tried fruitlessly to shake his arms out of the doctor’s grip.

At that moment, Angel felt something familiar being slipped over his three arms. It didn’t take him long to realize what it was.

“What are ya doin’?!” Angel yelled as he continued thrashing desperately.

Everyone continued as if they hadn’t heard him. The straitjacket was slipped over his arms quickly and effectively.

Once the straitjacket was on, Angel waited until the doctor let go of his arms to tie back the sleeves.

When Dr. Red did, Angel tried reaching his arms back to his torso to summon more guns, but the long sleeves were instantly pulled back and tied behind him, effectively restraining him. He tried desperately to move his arms, but it was no use.

“Good work, everyone,” Dr. Red said as he pulled off the dark pillowcase. “The patient has been restrained perfectly and we are now prepared for the next step.”

Angel’s sweaty face had hardly a moment to cool down before Dr. Red picked him up by the torso and his father and brother lifted his legs.

“What the fuck are ya bastards doin’ now?!” Angel yelled, still trying to thrash as much as his restraints would allow him while kicking his long legs at his family. “PUT ME DOWN!”

Arackiss stared at him quietly while Henroin scoffed and said, “Right away, son.”

Angel was suddenly placed on a chair, and no sooner was he sat down than were his legs and torso strapped in. It was then that Angel realized where exactly he was and what was about to happen. A look to the right confirmed his suspicions as his eyes fell on the car battery on the cart with the bit and the mess of wires attached.

Angel felt his eyes grow as wide as saucers and a shiver run down his spine as he began to tremble uncontrollably.

Everyone but Arackniss smiled sadistically as Dr. Red reverted to his original form and adjusted the chair so that Angel was lying on his back.

“That shut him up,” Henroin quipped.

No sooner had those words left Henroin’s mouth than did Angel resume his pointless struggle to escape from his restraints.

“You just had to say something. Didn’t you?” Arackniss asked with a sigh.

Dr. Red shook his head and prepared his machine.

Angel gave up his struggle against his restraints and laid there helplessly. He panted loudly as the doctor moved the cart over to the head of his chair.

Angel trembled like a leaf. He couldn’t hear a sound beyond his own breathing and heart beating.

Dr. Red skillfully attached the headgear on Angel’s head. Angel shook his head desperately, but the headgear held firm and the doctor managed to get a bit between Angel’s teeth.

Angel stopped shaking his head and glanced around the room in a desperate panic only to see the cold stares of his family and doctor.

“Now, Anthony,” Dr. Red said. “Are you going to calm down and endure therapy willingly or are you going to make us turn on this machine to calm you down?”

Angel shook out of his frightened stupor. As his eyes met his doctor’s condescending stare, Angel found his nerve and glared back.

“Well, Anthony?” Dr. Red asked impatiently.

With the bit still between his teeth, Angel replied, “FUCK YOU!”

“Wrong answer, son,” Henroin retorted. “Pull the switch, doctor.”

Without another word, Dr. Red annoyedly walked over to the machine and threw the switch.

A surge of electricity immediately entered Angel’s body and set every nerve on fire in searing pain. He screamed through his bit and bit down until his teeth were practically touching while the rest of his body convulsed uncontrollably.

Henroin and Dr. Red looked on with cold smirks. Arackniss looked away, uncomfortably listening to Angel’s screams.

“So, Anthony, do you feel calm enough to cooperate now?” Dr. Red asked. “Anthony…?”

Angel couldn't respond as the electricity continued to pulsate through his body, causing him to convulse and writhe in every direction.

“Anthony can’t respond like that, doctor,” Arackniss spoke up. “You gotta turn off the machine.”

“Yeah, shut it off,” Henroin demanded.

“Alright,” Dr. Red replied. “This should be more than enough time to calm his emotions.”

Dr. Red shut off the electricity. Angel immediately fell limp in relief and in exhaustion at the surge of electricity his body was forced to go through.

Dr. Red coldly walked over to the head of Angel’s chair and asked, “How are you feeling, Anthony? Do you feel better?”

Angel was too out of breath to respond, so he just laid there in his restraints trying to catch his breath.

Red smiled sadistically, began writing in his notepad, and said, "Excellent. The sedation technique was successful. Now, we can begin the therapy…”

Angel could hardly hear Doctor Red chattering to his family. His disoriented and weakened mind was spinning in circles, traumatized, hurting, and completely helpless as it had been so many times before. It was all he could do to not shed a tear.

“…The therapy works better if the patient has something to works towards,” Angel heard Dr. Red say. “You have any ideas of anything Anthony might want?”

Angel immediately perked back up and listened in on the conversation while keeping his face completely neutral.

“I have an idea,” Arackniss replied. “We could let him out to share a meal with us before we go to Alastor’s wedding on Friday.”

“I wouldn’t mind that, as long as we have the good doctor on standby,” Henroin added.

Arackniss walked over to the chair where Angel was staring blankly at the wall pretending to barely even be conscious and asked with mild concern in his voice, “Hey, Anthony? Did you hear what we said? If you behave for the next week, you get to leave the basement to have dinner with me and Dad. Does that sound alright to you? Nod your head since you probably can’t talk yet.”

Angel realized then what he had to do. He nodded his head.

“Excellent!” Dr. Red exclaimed cheerfully. “We will work towards that goal then!”

Angel nodded weakly and submissively just like the little slave they wanted him to be, giving no indication of the plan forming in his head.

For now, Angel would obey them. He would say and do whatever ridiculous thing they asked him to do. He would be the doctor’s ideal patient. He would behave. Until Friday. When they’d finally let him out of this dungeon for good behavior.

Then, somehow, some way, Angel would fight his way out and find his way back to Cherri, to Charlie, and then to Alastor’s wedding to save Vaggie.

All he had to do was wait.

#hazbinhotel #hazbinhotel angeldust

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petitprincess1 · 5 years ago

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Good Evening Ch13 (Soft and Fragile)

AO3 Link Summary: Before the incident, Alastor has a bit more of a reflection on his "lovers" and it's quite interesting on what he wishes to do to his dolls. Words: 1,738 I AM SO SORRYYYYYY!!! I got super stressed lately and my brain just froze. I really hope this chapter is worth the wait. Once again, very sorry. Warning: Obsessive and possessive thoughts and..."knifeplay" thoughts...kinda. ~~~ Hours earlier before the “oopsie” that happened at Pentious’ house, Alastor made up an excuse to go to the kitchen just so he didn’t end up strangling Vaggie, slice her throat, or say some very mean words. The intense hatred only increased when she mentioned him bringing in gumbo that had Valentino’s body in it. He was going to bury the guy to use as manure, but he was a bit pressed for time and it was rather difficult to stuff the body with aromatic herbs to keep any stench out. Plus, he didn’t feel like draining Val’s blood. Either way, he had to take a moment to breathe before walking into the kitchen.

Al tried to calm down by taking out the tongue that he took from that dead guard. Either no one has gone into the fridge yet or no one questioned the tongue. It wasn’t like it was impossible for him to have bought a cow tongue of sorts from the store. Thankfully, idiots would do anything to justify something that’s so simple.

He meant to chop this up for breakfast in the morning, but no one said that you couldn’t have an omelette in the afternoon. Besides, he still needed to make a small meal for Charlie. Alastor realized that he was going more and more towards Charlie everyday. It was surprising that the girl intrigued him, almost as much as Anthony did. Although, he was interested in them for completely different reasons. Anthony felt the closest to what could be romantic, even if it was a bit more perverse.

All Alastor wanted to do with Anthony was make him his and only his. Majority of the people that he came into contact with were incorrigible and absolute morons, especially that Pentious. The man had no patience with any of that and wouldn’t miss them the slightest bit if they were dead...possibly not Husker. The much older man was much more hilarious to have alive, especially whenever he was angry. It was so much fun to watch his lip curl into a snarl.

However, unless it was making him pouty, Alastor never wanted to see his ethel angry at him nor did he wish to hurt him that badly. Just the very thought sent a chill up his spine as he listened to the tongue’s muscles and ligaments making a slight squishing sound as the knife sliced through them, making him feel a nice calm about him. All he wanted to do was keep Anthony all locked up for no one else to see him. Yes, the man clearly could help himself, judging the bruising on his knuckles, but he still could have died. Keeping the little minx all tied up would clearly only benefit him.

Plus, Alastor could also easily lure those mongrels to his home and he could serve up some wonderful meat pies or casseroles to his favorite toy that he will keep all snug and cozy in his basement. Oh! That reminded him that he really needed to renovate that place back at his home. Well, temporary home in Eden. Al should also warn Anthony about the constant traveling. Alastor knew that his angel may have slight worry about his proposition, but he knew that the boy would be the one to stay. Meanwhile with Charlie….the man longed for her struggle.

As annoying as it was to try and get the doll alone, it was also thrilling to actually have someone fight. Not that Anthony didn’t fight with Alastor occasionally, it was different with Charlie. She seemed to wish to deny all attraction towards, but he could easily tell when one has hidden desire. He has felt her heartbeat quicken on her wrist, seen the hidden passion in her eyes lying beneath the disgust, and, most importantly, he can sense the morbid curiosity in her. It won’t be too long til he finally caught her in his grasp.

Alastor scrapped the tongue off of the cutting board into a frying pan that had oil, minced garlic, and chopped onion in it. He breathed in the smell and sighed happily, “Patience is a virtue.”

Niffty came into the kitchen, carrying groceries, and gasped at seeing Alastor, “OH! You didn’t tell me you would be in the kitchen! Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude. I just went to get some extra food and-”

“Don’t worry, my dear! It’s perfectly fine. After all, this is your kitchen and I’m merely intruding in on your space,” Alastor spoke charmingly and humbly. Niffty gasped even more as she placed the groceries on the counter, using a step stool, and quickly replied, “No no no! My kitchen is your kitchen, so stay as long as you wish.”

The man smiled at her and gave a polite nod, “What a sweet lady you are. Also, do you mind helping me out? Just get some eggs and whisk them up. I’m making an omelette for Charlie~”

“Awww, you’re such a sweet man!”

“...I know.” ~~~ Later on into the day, Al had come over to Charlie’s office and knocked on the door. Charlie called from the other side, “Who’s there?”

Alastor thought of a joke for a few seconds and replied, “Adore!”

It went silent for a few seconds before the golden-haired girl asked, “Adore who? I don’t think-”

“Adore is between you and I, so please open up!” Alastor exclaimed, cutting her off on purpose. There was another brief silence before the door suddenly opened up and revealed Charlie looking away from Alastor. She seemed to be annoyed, but the small reddish tint to her pale cheeks showed her keeping a smile back. She mumbled under her breath as she walked away, “That was a terrible joke and you know it was.”

The creole chuckled as he walked into her office and saw that her office was pretty decent and cozy looking, especially with plush carpeting. He leaned up against a bookshelf behind him as he raised an eyebrow at two norwegian dwarf goats that were sleeping within a pet bed that looked like a little house. Charlie sat down on the chair at her desk and asked, “Is there something that you need, Al? Oh! Also, thank you for the omelette, it was very sweet of you to make that for me. Although, I thought we ran out of certain cuts of beef.”

She gestured to the empty plate on her desk that had bits of onion on the surface, as well as some ketchup. Al nodded and replied, “You’re quite welcome, my dear~ Also, I have my resources. Anyway, I was just asking if it was alright if I head off early. Just want to do a bit of hunting, that’s all.”

Al’s grin subtly grew a bit at seeing Charlie’s skin become slightly paler when he mentioned hunting. He could just say that he was just going to go hunt some deer, but it was hilarious to think that the girl thought he was hunting humans. No, not today. She gulped and replied, “Uh, well, I guess if you have nothing else to do, then that’s okay. Just...you know...be back around dark, just so you can have the night shift. I-If you want to, of course!”

The man couldn’t help but reach towards Charlie, making her slightly flinch, and gently caress her cheek. He brushed his thumb against her skin and almost felt aroused at the softness of it. Alastor could only imagine how nice it would be to carve through it. He was sure that he barely needed to add extra pressure to slice the skin open. He hummed and then muttered in a low tone, “Of course, Charlie.Why would I ever say no to you?”

Charlie mumbled under her breath, feeling an odd chill up her spine, “Uh...I’m sure you have, especially when I don’t want you messing with my cheeks.” She slowly lowered Al’s hand from her cheek and moved it back to his side. She then concluded, “Uh, well, if that’s all, the you’re free to go, Al.”

Alastor stared at his hand for a few seconds and then nodded absentmindedly as he walked out of the room. He felt Charlie’s eyes on him as he left out and listened to the door gently creak close before she locked it. However, Al barely cared as he felt many tingles up his hand that Charlie touched. He never liked being touched...but he was definitely craving more from her.

He began walking down the hall and was trying to clear his mind when a woman ended up bumping him from behind. Al turned and saw the woman looked distraught, almost in a daze. Before he could question her, she asked, “I’m sorry, but have you seen Angelo? I...I really need to speak to him….regarding a man that he...worked with.”

Alastor blinked at her and wondered what she could possibly want with Anthony. It made his stomach tie into a knot, but he just said, “Well, Anth- Angelo is on medical leave. He got harmed pretty badly.”

Not even the slightest bit of worry in the woman’s eyes, if anything, Al saw a bit of frustration. She nodded and muttered, “...Right. I forgot...thank you.”

The woman then silently walked away from Alastor, making the man narrow his eyes at her. He’s going to have to follow her, isn’t he? Great! Right...well, maybe Charlie was right about the human thing. He could always buy venison from the butcher. ~~~ In present time, Baxter was helping Sir Pentious roll up Traci’s body in a rug, while Alastor was braiding Anthony’s slightly grown out hair and Cherri was trying to calm down. The spunky girl washed the blood off of her face and pretended the brain bits were just chewed up wads of gum. She pulled her head out from the sink and quickly grabbed some towels, wiping her face off.

Cherri was making very quiet sobs as she kept envisioning the woman getting shot over and over again in her head. It just wouldn’t end. Angelo looked at her and asked, “Hey, ya gonna be alright, Cherri?”

She turned to Angelo and took a deep breath before glaring at Al, “What the hell is wrong with you!? Why did you do that?”

Alastor scoffed, “What? It was just a bit of hunting.”

40 notes · View notes

lokidiabolus · 5 years ago

Text

The Deal - Bonus

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (web series)

Pairing: Alastor / Angel Dust

Warnings: human!Angel Dust (Anthony), Deal with a devil AU

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: I swear NOW it’s done lmao.

Unbetad!

2024, 275th day

It was rather unexpected to see this kind of development, when it came to the form Anthony took in Hell. When Alastor gave it some thought here and there (more often than he would admit, granted), he could imagine Anthony as some sort of cat demon the most. There was something feline about the man when alive – the unpredictability maybe? He wasn’t sure.

So when the Hell opened to swallow yet another sinner – and the sinner was his beau – his expectations were about everywhere but in what he actually saw once he located the trembling creature in the Pentagram outskirts.

A spider demon. White as fallen snow, but covered in his own blood, six arms and two long, long legs and tear stained face, trembling in Alastor’s arms like a frightened child. The last few months of Anthony’s life were fluctuating and the more Alastor had to stay in Hell to deal with Vox, the more Anthony’s light was dimming, and Alastor knew that, he saw what was happening, how the will was weakening and the desire to join him here winning over. A selfish, petty part of him thought good, finally, come to me but at the same time Anthony was young, so, so young to die, it made him indecisive and when was the last time he felt like that? If ever? Not even during his own life and death he never doubted, but with Anthony… he wanted him to be his without remorse. No regrets, no sadness over his life ending.

But now here he was. Finally calming down, the trembling subsiding, the pain from his face easing away until he was just resting in Alastor’s arms, breathing deeply. An adorable spider, caught in the web of his own inner demons… maybe it was fitting.

***

“You are pouting for an hour already.”

“I’m sorry to rain on yer parade, but I’m a fuckin’ spider monster,” Anthony flashed him an unhappy sneer and glared at his reflection in the mirror for umpteenth time, his eyes narrowing, sharp teeth baring just to growl and turn away from it once more. “Who fuckin’ picks this? What did I do to deserve bein’ a six-armed horror?!”

“But imagine how good are you going to be at hugging,” Alastor couldn’t stop himself from grinning, even though Anthony was clearly distressed by his new look, but there was simply no reason to be. He was such an adorable creature, white and pink and soft and cushy. If he wasn’t walking around like a ticking bomb, swearing at each step, Alastor would definitely be trying the new cuddle arrangement. But there was time for everything.

There was eternity for them now.

“I could hug with two arms just fine!”

“Maybe I would like to be hugged with six,” Alastor shot back, which stopped Anthony in his stomping with a defeated sigh.

“But… spider,” he whined, gesturing to his lanky body and abundance of limbs, and ironically all Alastor could see was a cute pouty face and dangerous claws he honestly found threateningly appealing – all six clawed hands with them. Anthony just couldn’t see past the shock yet, but Alastor had means to make him so.

“And a deer,” the red-eyed demon smiled at him from the table he was sitting behind.

“All ya have is a cute Bambi tail and ears, big deal,” Anthony rolled his eyes – his unevenly coloured eyes, Alastor mentally added, which was fascinating – and glanced down at his feet with a frown.

“If that is all you can see, then I suppose I am a lucky man,” Alastor tapped on one of the radios near him and smooth jazz started playing. True, he never had a single issue with his demonic appearance, even when he first arrived here. At this regard he was always a perfectionist, so all of him the others could see was perfectly tailored to show his dominance. Nothing about him was cute, no matter what Anthony was saying. Not the tail, not the ears. He was an Overlord, demons feared him.

Well, except of this particular case, that is. But Anthony was special, he was allowed.

“Oh yeah, I forgot, handsome guys are scary as fuck,” Anthony grumbled, but there was some sort of playfulness in his voice, which signalized his mood was getting better. “Pretty sure all demons just run at sight of ya, oh nooo. Pretty guy inbound, ruuuuun~.”

“They do run though,” Alastor smiled at him sweetly. “Different circumstances though.”

“Yer dad jokes, huh,” the pretty spider smirked at him, softening the rudeness. “Don’t blame them.”

“Now now, Anthony,” Alastor tapped his claws against the table, stopping any other eventual teasing that would definitely follow, because Anthony never left things at only one jab when he had a chance. “If you are done with your moping, how about you come here?”

There was an evident hesitation in the demon’s features, insecurity written in his whole body language, but Alastor was patient and willing to show him there was nothing to feel insecure about. Only proud.

He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing, and Anthony let out a squeak when a pair of shadowy hands curled around his waist, gently pushing him forward like walking a child on the first day out.

“Aww, hi Al Junior,” Anthony cooed back at the Shadow, which gave him a raggedy grin in return. Evidently too happy to see him, that for sure. Even more evidently appreciative about Anthony’s new look as well. “Haven’t seen ya both in one room yet, that’s new.”

The Shadow waddled him all the way to Alastor’s desk and nuzzled his neck from behind, obviously delighted about the experience. Anthony patted him with one of the six hands, still not that good at coordinating them all, apparently, and Alastor cleared his throat while tapping against the table again.

One more nuzzle and then the shadow slithered away, blending into the walls, and Alastor would have sworn if it could, it would stick its tongue at him.

“Hehe,” Anthony looked happy though, which was amendable, and then finally circled the mahogany desk and stood next to Alastor comfortably sitting in his chair. He let himself to be touched on his thin waist, lower on his hip, then back up on his chest – fluffy chest, if anybody asked, so, so fluffy – and then let Alastor took one of his hands and gently pull him on his lap, sitting on his legs carefully like he could shatter any moment.

“There~,” Alastor crooned. “Not that hard, was it?”

“Might be even easier with the voice,” Anthony suggested meekly, like he was asking for something risky, and Alastor circled one of his arms around his waist and touched his face with the other.

“Whateva you want, darlin’,” he spoke softly and Anthony’s smile widened. “Feelin’ better now?”

“Yeah…” the spider demon nodded curtly. “Still weird, but I’ll get over it.”

“Don worry, I’ll be there fer you every step on da way,” Alastor tilted his head down and gently pressed their lips together. “Promise.”

He was right – six armed hugs were absolute heaven.

***

2024, 277th day

“Huh.”

Alastor took several more steps before he realized Anthony stopped all of sudden, staring at the vending machine sitting between dark corners of dubious streets filled with vermin. He was staring at the lowest button, head tilted, and Alastor returned to him with a silent question in his eyes.

Not that Anthony noticed, his eyes were glued to the vending machine with something akin to wonder, and when Alastor glanced down at the point of the spider’s interest, he noticed Angel Dust written there in all italics.

“Fuckin’ swell, huh,” Anthony mumbled more to himself than to Alastor, judging from his expression. “That this would be here too.”

Alastor knew how Anthony died, of course he did. PCP overdose might have come as a surprise, but at the same time they talked about it when Anthony’s heart was still beating. His coping mechanism, his addiction, his attachment to something that could ease the state of despair. If Vox didn’t get in Alastor’s way, maybe there would be a possibility to prolong his life for few more years.

But then again Alastor would be lying if he said he regretted having Anthony here with him, finally. He wasn’t that much of a good guy for playing a Good Samaritan (if even a little, honestly), and if Anthony wasn’t in such a bad state at the beginning of their deal, he would probably (definitely) drag him to Hell right away, especially after being asked to be killed from the get go.

“Anything you can think of,” Alastor commented. “Any drug. Any alcohol. Any poison. Any weapon. It is all here. And worse.”

“Hell yeah,” Anthony chuckled bitterly and averted his eyes from the nameplate, little raw at the edges, vulnerable. Still so new, still so open. “Oh well. Sorry. Let’s go.”

Alastor made sure they didn’t pass any other vending machine on their way back to the Radio Tower.

***

2024, 285th day

It wasn’t like he wanted to make a habit of spying on Anthony, but once the spider demon left the tower on his own and ventured to the city, he had his reasons to make sure he would make it back home in one piece. Barely any demon would notice the shadow of a person was different unless really looking, and he kind of doubted Anthony would meet anybody like that on his first independent stroll anyway.

There wasn’t much the spider had planned, from the way he behaved outside. He just wandered around, peeking into shops and avoiding trouble, then peeking into more shops, got some clothes and then practiced his totally not six armed spider act when he managed to hide the middle set of arms like they were never there. Alastor didn’t know he could actually do that, but he was impressed anyway.

He had several cat-calling demons around whistling at him while skilfully flipping them off, and in case they wouldn’t be deterred, the Shadow blinked at them menacingly and they scuttered to dark corners like filthy rats.

It was nothing out of ordinary until a dark purple limo stopped at the edge of the sidewalk he walked on, pulling down the window just to reveal the Princess of Hell herself smiling nervously, calling at Anthony in her bright princess-y voice. Now that was interesting for sure.

“Hey,” Anthony blinked in surprise at her sudden invitation to get in, obviously not having a single clue who the girl was. “Daddy told me not to talk to strangers.”

Alastor totally did not choke on that.

The princess laughed, bright and happy and shook her head while opening the doors of the limo wide open.

“We won’t do anything bad,” she assured him, and there was another girl next to her in the car, though Alastor had never met her. Her displeased expression was spot on though. The princess dragged her closer, leaning her near the opening of the doors. “I’m Charlie, this is Vaggie! We just want to talk a little?”

“Ya can talk with me standing right ‘ere,” Anthony crossed all his four arms, eyes looking her up and down, not budging. “Whaddya want?”

“Weeeeell-,”

“What is your name, mister?” Vaggie stared him down pointedly, her voice sharp as a knife. Anthony visibly hesitated, then glanced away to the rest of the street. They talked about it shortly after Anthony got to Hell – not everybody wanted to keep their human name. Alastor did because he was not a fan of aliases, The Radio Demon nickname just happened on its own. Anthony didn’t seem to be in need of getting any kind of demon name either, but now there was an obvious reluctance in his features.

“Angel Dust,” he looked back at them, the drug name slipping past his lips. Intriguing. “Ya can call me Angel, toots.”

Vaggie didn’t look impressed but Charlie was smiling like a sunshine. When they started spouting nonsense about rehabilitating a demon in one of a repurposed royal family’s buildings, Alastor laughed so hard he almost let the Shadow spill it out.

It was only an hour later when Angel burst into the Radio Tower, dropped the shopping bags and yelled:

“Ya won’t fuckin’ believe what I’m just gonna tell ya, I shit ya not!”

Just few days later the 666 News broadcasted Charlie’s plan live (with an immense failure in the reception, but that was expected) and Alastor got a brilliant idea. Out of everybody involved, Charlie was probably on the board of it the most.

***

2024, 300th day

The hotel was a whack. It was a total fucking ruin in dire need of reconstruction. Angel didn’t know what the hell was repurposed here, but it must have been hiding in a basement because the rest of it screamed ancient. Not that any part of Hell was pretty or anything, but at least some of it had class. Ironically the most class was visible in the Lust circle in porn studios, but Angel was not getting even near of that filthy lair, that for sure (not to mention Alastor didn’t even let him wander too close, probably for a good reason. Said something about moths. Angel didn’t question it).

Niffty made a bit more presentable though, scurrying around the hallways like a sonic Roomba and at least the entrance hall looked nicer once Alastor was done with it.

Alastor The Radio Demon, Angel learned. An Overlord even. Vaggie was super into telling him how bad and evil and absolute horror-ish Alastor was, how bloodthirsty and merciless, and Angel just thought of his Bambi tail wagging when they hugged and kind of spaced out.

Sure, guy had a reputation. Angel saw some flattering posters in the 666 News studios with BEWARE !!! HIM and RADIO SOUNDS = STAY AWAY and DO NOT FUCK WITH HIM but if Alastor was anything, a cuddler would be the right description. Also probably a cold-hearted murderer, but nobody was perfect.

He told the girls he was new and had barely any kind of comprehension of Hell’s inner workings back there when they stopped in in the city, and obviously that immediately must have raised red flags when he got to the Hotel just few days later with Alastor leading him in and keeping him close like a pet on an invisible leash (though not really a pet, Angel was just super amused by the height difference, so he stuck close to him for shit and giggles).

“You can stay here, Angel,” Charlie was just telling him in a shushed whisper when they walked through the hallways, Alastor several steps in front of them, looking around with wide smile on his face. Fucker was definitely enjoying it, but even Angel felt rather giddy about it.

“Here?” he imitated her low voice and she quickly glanced towards Alastor humming a tune and twirling his microphone.

“You know. If you need a place to stay,” she gestured towards the deer demon quickly.

Oh. Oh. She thought he feared Alastor or something? Or that Alastor kept him around against his will? A big bad Overlord and a newbie, what else would she think, right?

“Can’t do, Cha-Cha, made a deal with this guy,” he made finger guns pointed at the red-clothed figure with his all four arms. “Hands are tied.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s eyes widened for a second, like she was saying oh no, you fucked for good, gurl and then hesitantly nodded. “I see. But… I mean. It depends on the deal, of course, but… If you needed to stay away or something, you understand?”

“I fear that just won’t do, my dear!” Alastor’s voice thundered through the hallway cheerily, loud as fuck, even though he was standing few meters away from them. “I own his heart, you see. He cannot leave even if he wanted to.”

Charlie’s eyes widened even more, and Angel had to bite his lips to stop himself from laughing. How fucking vague, just playing it like Angel was suffering in the Radio Demon presence.

“Isn’t that right, my dear Angel?”

“Oh yes, poor me,” the spider demon swooned dramatically. “Can’t leave ever! He’d totally find me and cu-,” ddle me to death, he wanted to say, Alastor’s eyes warning him not to, “-t me to death! Double death even.”

Charlie started to visibly panic. Oh damn, she was so naïve, it was fun.

“Do not be alarmed, princess,” Alastor assured her with a chuckle. “No cutting needed. Angel is quite knowledgeable in his duties.”

“Pffft.”

“Aren’t you, my dear.”

“’bsolutely,” Angel saluted him. “Controlled by fear and fear only.”

There was a mischievous gleam in Alastor’s eyes right before he turned around and continued his way through the raggedy hotel, resuming the tune. Angel patted the small woman on the top of her head, but still wasn’t sure if she got it was all a joke or she unironically feared for his life.

***

2024, 304th day

She feared for his life. She kept on trying to get him to stay overnight in the hotel for therapies and fun activities and movie nights and Angel was wondering how to break it out to her without revealing Alastor was a big softie who liked to snuggle in bed (and honestly he liked it even more now, in Hell, and Angel was wondering if it was because he was fluffier or because Alastor was just happy he didn’t need to keep fearing if he didn’t leave the stove or lights on in Radio Tower when up in the land of living).

From all he gathered during the days he spent in Hell by now, Alastor was a big thing around the Pentagram City. As one of the Overlords and one not hellborn on top of that he harnessed tremendous power through fear, his shady as fuck deals and radio broadcasts where he delivered the carnage for everybody to hear. Angel didn’t listen to any yet, but he was sure he would eventually, when Alastor would feel like letting him on it.

“She thinks yer abusing me,” he said while petting the red hair gently, lying on his back in the bed. The red sheets were silky and felt really nice around him and he doubted Alastor owned anything that was not red or black, like a walking, talking stereotype. Classy though.

“I am abusin’ you,” Alastor agreed from Angel’s fluffy chest, where his face was buried. He had been cuddling Angel for the past hour, like it was one of those days when he didn’t feel like being big bad deer and just stayed in the tower, making Angel spoil him. Then there were days he didn’t feel like being touched at all, unless it was at night when sleeping, and Angel was starting to be a real pro in reading those moods in his natural environment. Sometimes Al Junior gave him a hint even before Alastor appeared in flesh, and it was appreciated. Alastor wasn’t really making a big fuss when touched in his untouchable mood but the way he stiffened was red enough light for Angel to give him space.

“Yeah, yer a menace, I need to pee for like twenty minutes now,” Angel sighed and his poor bladder with him.

“Unfortunate.”

“Well, it’s yer bed I’m gonna pee in, so suit yerself,” he shrugged and Alastor huffed out a laugh. It was nice he could laugh at Angel’s crude jokes now, since before he just told him off.

“Don worry ‘bout the demon belle,” Alastor mumbled sleepily. “She’s just too nice fer her own good.”

“Aw, she’s a cutie tho,” Angel pulled a little at Alastor’s ear and it flicked. “Enthusiastic and all that shit, I guess ye don’t see that down here often.”

“Barely,” Alastor hummed.

“Well, if anybody can rehabilitate a demon, it’s her,” Angel pulled the other ear and it flicked too. Cute.

“Mmm,” his companion let out. “Don’t be too much of a good boy, darlin’. I refuse to part wit you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that,” Angel chuckled warmly at Alastor affectionate speech. “They’d have to kill me to take me away from ya.”

“You ‘nd me both.”

Angel thought if Charlie saw Alastor like this, she’d definitely coo at him. Honestly, he kind of wanted her to, for funsies, but maybe it was better to leave sleeping deer lie.

***

2024, 310th day

“Cupcakes?!”

“Ugh.”

Angel ignored Alastor’s sound of distaste and grabbed Charlie’s hands in all four of his, eyes shining.

“Ya mean like real ones?! Not like… sugar water ones, right?” He was craving sweet things and Hell had shit. The best things came from topside and apparently not as many demons ventured there for ingredients, so Angel was seriously super low on sugar.

“Yeah!” she smiled at him happily and nodded towards the kitchen because he was still holding her hands like a vice, but she seemed to be fine with it. “We thought we could try baking them tonight!”

Another obvious attempt to get him stay the night, he knew. But cupcakes. It was like… the only bait that could potentially work, apart from Frappuccino orgy and pole dancing. She gave a vibe like she wouldn’t condone the latter though.

He sent Alastor a pleading puppy eyes and the demon let out a defeated sigh. He didn’t even need to say anything, he was just done. Angel didn’t blame him, he was bothering him about sweets for days now and since Alastor disliked those, he was driving a hard bargain every damn day.

It was an obvious plan, really. The baking didn’t start before nine in the evening and Charlie made sure only the patients were attending, which meant only Angel, really (the hotel didn’t have many patients so far, and by many I mean none) and Charlie as a main helper. Vaggie joined them around half past nine with a badly hidden curiosity and Niffty kept running around, sweeping crumbs that had the audacity to touch the floor, and if she had nothing to sweep, she helped them with filling the forms, quite skilled for such a little lady.

“Here I thought Husky would be leading the baking party,” Angel commented when they put the first batch into the oven and Vaggie made a snorting noise somewhere behind the counter.

“Busy pouring drinks for Happy face,” she shot back while mixing the dough in the bowl. “He’s lounging at the bar like a shark, just waiting for a drop of blood.”

“Fitting,” Angel had to agree, though in much better light than Vaggie meant it. Charlie’s enthusiastic expression fell slightly and Angel just knew she got him here for a talk or two. Maybe even an all-nighter.

“Angel,” she started, swiping her hair behind her ear like she always did when nervous. “I know you said you made a deal with him and all-,”

“Careless of you, by the way,” Vaggie added with a sigh. “His deals always have a catch; you can never win.”

Angel leaned against the counter, giving them his full attention, which seemed to encourage Charlie a little. Maybe it was for the best to get them let it out of their chests and then ease their minds, no matter what Alastor would say about it. He knew his partner enjoyed people grasping for straws and worry, but neither Charlie or Vaggie deserved that – in both death and life combined they were the nicest girls he ever talked to, when he didn’t count his mum and sister. Sure, Vaggie was sharp as the spear she used, and Charlie had a naivety of a child, but they meant well, and he had to admit he was fond of them.

“I don’t doubt that,” he made a vague hand gesture for them to continue.

“He found you the moment you got to Hell, right?” Charlie asked with caution of a dancer on a nail bed.

“Well… yeah.” Not a lie. But he already belonged to him anyway, so it was not the moment of import as they thought it was.

“Can you tell us what the deal was about? Maybe we could help you somehow,” she smiled hopefully, and Angel took a deep breath.

“Ah, crap. Cha-Cha, I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously,” he scratched his head. “We were just playin’, you know. It’s not like he’s ever gonna hurt me or anythin’. Or cut me or whatever we said before.”

She didn’t look convinced. Fair.

“The only danger I’m in, and I mean, that’s a fact,” he crossed his arms on his chest. “It’s that he won’t let me get up from the bed when I need to pee. Like. That’s how lazy he is, ya know. Just not moving. Just stayin’ in.”

Okay, might have not been the best example, he realized when Charlie just stared at him and Vaggie’s upper lip curled into a sneer. Did he just make Alastor into a sexual predator?

“We just sleep together,” he assured them with all four hands raised. That didn’t help either. Charlie looked at Vaggie with tight-lipped expression and Vaggie seemed not wanting to be part of the conversation at all.

“No sex,” he added for good measure. “At all. Zero. Nada.”

Disbelieving stares. Even Nifftys’, she stopped sweeping, that’s how much she didn’t believe it.

“I mean… does he look to you as somebody wanting to fuck all night or…?”

“Ugh, Lucifer help us,” Vaggie groaned while smacking her forehead. Charlie looked unsure and huh. Interesting. Sure, Alastor was always making an impression, but he didn’t know Charlie potentially thought of him as somebody with sexual drive. But then again, Angel was probably biased, knowing him for the asexual he was.

“Okay, let me… get you on a secret,” he conceded in a low voice. “I made a deal with Alastor ‘bout four years ago.”

“I thought you said you’re new?” Charlie blinked in surprise and Vaggie raised an eyebrow. She was definitely onto him now; he saw the realization in her face.

“You were still alive,” she said in a shocked voice. “You made a deal with him when you were still a human.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed her words with a small smile. “I summoned him on Christmas Eve, and we made a deal that day. And four years later I fucked up my life and here I am. He just collected what belonged to him, is all. He’s not forcing me to do anything, ya know. I wanna be with him on my free will.”

“Or so you think,” Vaggie added with a frown. “Never thought about it?”

“No, never,” he refused immediately. “I get it, toots. He’s a big, scary Overlord here. He kills people. I mean this is Hell, of course he won’t be paintin’ their nails, right.”

She just stared at him with the same expression.

“But ya gotta believe me on this. Al is… well. He’s…” he rubbed his neck with a nervous laugh. “I don’t wanna sound corny as fuck. I just like ‘im. Like a lot.”

The oven dinged into the heavy silence and Charlie was the first who reacted, probably happy for a break in the flow. The cupcakes looked like a treat and Angel was kind of glad when they got into decorating and neither of the girls pressed him for more. Niffty did give him shifty looks though, probably still thinking they were going at it as rabbits behind the closed doors.

Alastor was still at the bar sipping bourbon from a tumbler when Angel was finally allowed to leave the kitchen around midnight, full to bursting. They burned the first batch a little, but he blamed the talk rather than their culinary skills.

“You seem unperturbed,” the red eyed demon commented when Angel sat down next to him and put a small basket with cupcakes on the counter. Husker behind the bar eyed it with disdain and took a swing of his bottle instead.

“Well, takes more than that to ruffle my feathers, ya know,” he grinned. “Not amused by my choice of words in there?”

“I quite approve, actually,” Alastor sipped his drink again. “Except of making me into a sexual deviant, thank you very much for that, darlin’.”

“That one slipped out on accident,” Angel chuckled. The expression of the girls made the misstep worth it though. “I kinda didn’t want to give out yer a cuddle monster but had no idea how to explain properly. Charlie might have troubles to look ya in the eyes for some time.”

“I can live with that,” Alastor shook his head. “I will make sure to let you get up when you need to pee from now on at least.”

“Somebody kill me again…” Husker grumbled and dragged down the cage with a grunt, locking the alcohol behind it. “I’m fucking leaving.” And with that he shuffled away from the bar with an unhappy flap of his wings until they were alone in the hall, staring at the place he disappeared at.

Angel snorted and Alastor drank the rest of his bourbon before standing up as well and offering a hand for Angel to take.

“Shall we go home then? Or do they want to keep you here so I can’t ravish you tonight?” he asked like it was no biggie to use home and ravish in one breath and Angel felt his face heating up, probably from all that sugar, before he took the hand in his and stumbled up.

“Home…” he mewled, grabbing the basket. “Please.”

“As you wish, cher.” Alastor’s voice was low and warm and Angel really had to think more on how to express to the girls on how much he loved this man, no voodoo involved.

***

2024, 325th day

There were several parlours in the hotel, most of them in terrible state of neglect, except of one Angel found by sheer coincidence one day and then made it his secret hideout for lazing around with music on. He got a permission from Charlie to paint the walls and adjust the place to his own liking, since it was in the second floor and basically nobody came there anyway. He planned to ask her for a pole as well, but that could wait – one step at the time, as they say.

He mostly used it for busying himself, since there was always something to do, and if he didn’t feel like working, he could always just dance to songs Alastor didn’t find fancy enough to play in the Radio Tower and it did the trick.

To Angel’s delight Alastor visited the Hotel often, but even when he didn’t have time or didn’t feel like it (though he never explicitly stated I don’t feel like going today, really, but Angel could tell when he had to do something and when he just said it), Angel ventured here by himself, much to Charlie’s excitement every time she saw him (it was actually pretty heart-warming, really. Though it also kind of sucked he felt welcomed in Hell a lot more than he ever did during his life).

“Look at you, so busy,” a static voice interrupted Angel’s reminiscing while absentmindedly scraping the remaining tattered wallpaper off the wall, and before he could turn around in surprise, Alastor was already standing next to him, inspecting the wall with raised eyebrows before glancing back down on Angel squatting at the bottom. “No fun therapy today? Or is the manual labour Charlie’s idea.”

“Yer the only fun around here, Smiles,” Angel grinned at him cheekily. “Didn’t expect ya today though.”

It was one of those I have something to do excuses while meaning I just don’t feel like rainbows today and Angel respected that. Seeing him here all of sudden was a nice bonus and he wondered if he even checked with Charlie first or she had no idea he arrived.

“Surprises are my speciality,” the Radio Demon said, eyes skimming from every part of the parlour critically. “Which this place is, to be honest. Less of a dump than the rest of the hotel, though.”

“Yeah, it’s more neglected than tattered,” Angel agreed and put the scraper down. “Yer gonna help me paint?” He nudged Alastor’s leg with his knee and the Radio Demon seemed to ponder that. He was more of a let do my totally not cursed magic do the work rather than actually attending himself – unless it came to cooking – so Angel didn’t expect him to actually take off his coat, neatly fold it on one of the barstools and roll up his sleeves, which meant business. Angel liked when it meant business. He liked it a lot.

“I can do that for a while,” Alastor hummed and the spider demon didn’t know if he was that bored or if it was his way of asking for attention but both were cute, especially when he meant to join Angel in this. “Can’t let you have all the fun now, can I.”

“Tsk tsk, what would others say, an Overlord painting walls by hand,” Angel stood up, his upper set of hands dropping on Alastor’s shoulders and the demon let him with half lidded eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Hmm.”

“And by an ordinary fuckin’ paint too. Not even blood!” he gasped and Alastor took him by his waist and pulled him close.

“Mmmmm.”

“Yer riskin’ your reputation just for me?” the spider demon leaned back in theatrical swoon. “Oh, Alastor!”

“Literally only for you,” the deer demon purred back at him, holding him by the waist, letting him lean back so his head almost touched the floor, and if somebody walked in at that point, it would raise some serious questions, especially when Angel curled one of his legs around Alastor’s hips.

That’s why Charlie did arrive at exactly that point, Angel’s name on her lips, just to stutter to complete halt in between the doors, staring.

“Oh… hey, Princess,” Angel greeted her from basically upside down, Alastor not letting go or making any other move to remedy their positioning. “Didn’t hear ya comin’.”

“I… can see that,” her eyes switched from one to another. “Wanted to ask if you want to join us for lunch… both of you.”

She peered at the Radio Demon with raised eyebrows and that apparently made him get back to reality since he finally pulled Angel back up – still not letting go of his waist – but his hands were mostly just resting rather than holding. Angel dutifully put his leg down as well and earned a small cough from the princess.

Awkward.

“Would be my pleasure, sweetheart,” the static buzzed in a jolly tune and the Radio demon focused back on Angel, his expression softer than Angel would expect, given Charlie’s ogling. “Now shall we, darlin’?”

“We shall,” Angel grinned back at him and genuinely didn’t expect Alastor to grab his face and smooch him on the spot, then let go and leave the parlour with a happy twirl of the microphone he summoned out of thin air.

Charlie’s jaw was probably on the floor, but Angel’s was kinda too, so at least they matched.

***

“I’m just saying it looked like I interrupted something intimate, that’s all!”

“Juuuust please bury me somewhere alreadyyyyyy,” Angel whined, and Charlie patted him gently on his head like a dog she got in the pet store. Vaggie looked mildly interested in the conversation and that was bad news. They were the only ones in the dining room now, Alastor, that sneaky bastard, just poofed home once they finished the lunch, singing some happy tune and obviously left all this to Angel to deal with. Husker disappeared almost immediately, definitely knowing something horrible was going to happen and Angel didn’t even see Niffty the whole lunch.

“I think it was rather sweet?” she tried again, and Angel groaned and hid his head between his legs. “I suppose it gave me a bit more perspective of you two now!”

“Seriously, what did happen there?” Vaggie stared at them both, perplexed, as if she wasn’t here at the lunch where Charlie asked Alastor if he ever thought of spending the night in the hotel with Angel, in Angel’s room, to get the full hotel experience. She specifically said Angel’s room because she had no fucking filter and probably also because Alastor seemed to mightily approve of her choice of words and Angel’s utter mortified expression. The more frustrated Angel became, the wider was Alastor’s smile.

“They just kissed,” Charlie happily announced and yeah, Vaggie’s expression of total and utter disgust was spot on. “But it was cute!”

“Ya thought we were fuckin’ there at first!” Angel huffed. “And now ya say it was cute?”

“Well, you weren’t…” she rolled her hands around. “You know. And I know you said you don’t do that! So, I believe you!”

“Now ya believe me,” his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Because of one obnoxious smooch?”

“Was it obnoxious?”

“He made a show out of it, ‘fcourse it was!” Angel groused, expecting Alastor to be real smooth about it later. Just helping he was going to say, for sure. Totally not making Angel want to hide under a rug and stay there because he was caught smooching the Radio Demon (though anybody else doing the smooch would be resting in pieces by now, so maybe it was more like a praise than a handicap, but still) and the Princess of Hell being the witness.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before though,” Charlie sat a bit closer, clacking the chair with her until she could put her arm around Angel’s shoulders. “I guess I’m still a little surprised to see Radio demon actually possessing a beating heart.”

“A heart of his own, not the hearts he had stolen,” Vaggie added matter-of-factly. “Just for the record.”

“Thanks, Vaggie,” Angel huffed, but she was probably right anyway. “But it wasn’t like… why would one stupid show-off kiss make ya suddenly play a different tune?”

“Weeeell…” Charlie nervously looked away and Angel just knew.

“Ya were totally eavesdroppin’!” he pointed at her accusingly. “Holy shit, Cha-Cha, the Princess of Hell and ya just-!”

“Okay, okay!” she batted his hand down, her cheeks redder than normally he would even say steam was coming from her ears. “I might have been eavesdropping here and there-.”

“Here and there?” Angel couldn’t believe that. “So, there was more? Damn, you only act like an innocent girl, huh?”

“I was just worried!” she squeaked like a toy being squeezed too much. “I thought if he was being bad to you, I could save you somehow, but…”

Angel felt like the words actually physically smacked him over the face. Charlie, the bloody Princess of Hell, a hellborn demoness that knew him for how long? A month? This girl right there was caring for his wellbeing? She was ready to save him from an Overlord? Just because… because of what?

“But… why?” he couldn’t help but stare at her, eyes wide. “Why would ya go that far for a random sinner?”

Her face lit up with the most honest smile he had ever seen, like a puppy being petted for the first time even after peeing on the carpet, and Angel’s lower lip trembled in repressed sob she absolutely noticed, because of course she would.

“Because I care, Angel,” she pulled the chair even closer, so they were touching with their sides. “You’re my friend!”

“I bet ya say this to every girl ya meet,” he laughed trough ugly sobs and damn, that was so humiliating, he was going to need a real therapy after this.

“Just roll with it,” he heard from Vaggie, but couldn’t even look at her because Charlie was suddenly smooshing his face against her chest in a bear hug, petting him with cooing noises.

Holy shit, yeah, that was so going into a mental vault, Angel was so thoroughly embrassed.

And the worst thing was – he liked it. It was the nicest, warmest, the most awkward and cringiest thing he had ever experienced, and he did lots of shit in his life for this to top it all. Even Vaggie patted him awkwardly on his back in her way of showing support, and it only made him sob more.

It was probably good Alastor was fucking gone for this. That would be suicidal.

***

“Now wasn’t Charlie nice?”

Obviously Alastor was aware of everything. Angel didn’t even question it, especially not when he saw Al Junior peering at him from behind the Radio Demon, his smile wide and raggedy, as if he was not a spy master of gigantic proportions.

Alastor’s study was all lit up with the owner sitting behind the table, smiling at Angel softly. He only had a red shirt slightly unbuttoned from the top and his pants, but otherwise the rest was off, and it somehow added to the hominess Angel felt in the Radio Tower.

“Ya knew she was spying on us, didn’t ya,” Angel walked closer, stopping only a step away from the table. “Several times.”

“I would be a terrible Overlord if anybody could spy on me so easily, wouldn’t you agree,” Alastor grinned proudly, because obviously he would be proud of that in this regard. “There were no words able to sway the demon belle anyway. I may not be safest bet in any other regard, but for you, I am the safe heaven.”

“Mmm.”

“I was just trying to help.” There it was. “The situation was rather dire, as you sure agree.”

“I’m not upset, Al,” Angel breathed out with a small laugh. “I’m just… kinda offline right now. It was tiring as fuck.”

Alastor understood, that much was obvious. When he stood up and reached for Angel’s hands so he could lead him to the bedroom for a good night sleep, Angel had a fleeting worry of this all not being real, of waking up eventually in the hospital because somebody found him in the dirty bathroom of the club he overdosed himself in, and they managed to save him. And he would so fucking hate it he’d probably just kill himself with a yoghurt spoon or something the moment they’d leave him alone, just to end it.

But when Alastor pulled him close to his body and raked his clawed hand through his hair, the fear disappeared like a fleeting dream. He was where he was supposed to be. And he was happy he could cling to Alastor like a lifeline and never let go.

“Anthony,” Alastor’s static-less voice broke the gentle silence. “You touch my tail one more time and you lose dat hand.”

“That’s fine, have five more,” Angel grinned into Alastor’s chest and took the leap of faith.

#hazbin hotel #radiodust #alastor x angel dust #au #the deal series #human!Angel Dust

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