#Brief interruption from Hazbin Hotel content

[toiletpudding]

@munchonbrows Your pookies 🫶

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

We Interrupt This Broadcast...

(Another two-part-er! Stay tuned for part 2 very shortly!)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). One comically graphic description of cannibalism (first paragraph). Also, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect a lil angst sprinkled in there (don't worry, he gets better).

If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. ��

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

Ok... I'm gonna be honest folks, I have no idea if this fic is even coherent. This ain't my Best Work™ - this is literally the coping mechanism I've been relying on to put myself to sleep every night this week because HOLY SHIT my life is stressful at the moment. 😅

But anyway, I've decided I'm just gonna go ahead and post it, because 1) the world needs more lee!alastor, and 2) I'm not here to do my Best Work™, I'm here to write cute self-indulgent little stories about Alastor getting tickled to bits by his platonic wife. I'm here to decompress my hypervigilant ass at the end of long days by imagining my favorite endearingly creepy characters get wrecked by my other favorite endearingly creepy characters.

In summary, I'm here to have a good time, and I certainly did with this fic. So I hope you do too!

Featuring my new oc! (Rosie and Al still take center stage though, don't worry lol)

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It's a little-known fact that cannibals make terrific doctors. When you spend every meal tearing the human body apart with your face, you end up with a pretty comprehensive intuition for demonic anatomy.

So Alastor supposed he should consider himself lucky to have Rosie and her loyal posse so close at hand after his battle with Adam.

He was certainly relieved when Rosie had stumbled upon him, barely conscious from blood loss on the floor of his wrecked radio tower - and especially a few hours later when, having been rushed back to Cannibal Town, he was whisked into a warm, familiar parlor and deposited on a comfy couch.

Within minutes Rosie had summoned a woman in a white coat who swooped in, produced a bottle of a strange, foul-smelling gel from her medicine bag, soaked a rag with it, and pressed it firmly against Alastor's wound. The searing pain evaporated almost on contact.

"What is that?" Alastor breathes, visibly relaxing against the arm of the couch he's propped against.

"Anesthetic." She begins preparing a needle and thread.

"Didn't know such a thing existed down here."

"Of course! We're demons, not barbarians," Rosie scoffs, watching from the sidelines.

Cannibals, as a rule, rarely last long enough to need a doctor, but Rosie is no ordinary cannibal. And Dr. Trudy Sawblade - a young surgical resident in life, and Rosie's personal physician in death - is the best of the best. While she hadn't quite completed her medical training before her untimely death, in Rosie's service she's gained more than enough experience to make up for her education cut short.

"That salve is derived from a distant cousin of the poison dart frog. Evidently most of the frogs are assholes, because hell has an downright enormous population of them." Trudy's voice is measured and matter-of-fact, with a soft lilt that is both soothing and vaguely unsettling. "Haven't been discovered on earth yet. Which is good, because one whiff of this would end a mortal life in a matter of seconds."

"Lucky you, you're already dead," Rosie chimes in cheerfully.

"Lucky me," Alastor murmurs, without conviction.

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Truthfully, with the pain from his chest wound numbed, the weight of his recent defeat presses even more heavily on Alastor's heart. Someone - probably one of the cannibals who helped transport him from the rubble pile to Rosie's parlor - must have grabbed the broken microphone as they carried him out, because the fractured pieces are sitting on the side table at the other end of the couch. Under normal circumstances the awareness that someone had touched his staff without permission would spark a flash of rage from the Radio Demon, but now he can only stare dismally at what remains of his cane - aware that it's no longer capable of accomplishing much anyway.

It takes only a few minutes for Trudy to stitch Alastor back up and wrap his chest in a stretchy gauze. Meanwhile, Rosie quickly mends the worst of the tears in his clothes - if only to avoid having to watch her friend stare down the couch at his broken staff, with an uncharacteristic half-smile that damn near breaks her heart.

"Alright, sir, that should do it for now. It's a nasty gash, for sure, but the salve should keep it from getting infected."

"Thank you, my dear." He gives an appreciative nod to the surgeon, and Rosie too, as his fellow overlord hands him back his clothes.

"Can't have you going around with a big hole in your chest, can we?" Rosie steps back and scrutinizes her own patch job as he slowly dresses himself again. "It ain't perfect... especially for a classy fellow like you. But I'm sorry to report that I saw my tailor at a Sunday brunch just last week. Inconvenient, but I gotta admit, he made a wonderful casserole."

For the briefest of moments, this aside manages to tweak Alastor's smile into something vaguely genuine. "I'm sure he did."

"One more thing, Mr. Alastor, sir," Trudy jumps in as the radio demon pulls on his coat. "So sorry, I almost forgot. The angel also threw you against a wall, correct?"

At the recollection, Alastor's smile stiffens into something more closely resembling a grimace. His antlers rise between his ears. "Does it matter?"

"You may be at risk for internal injuries." If Trudy is at all fazed by inviting the most powerful overlord in hell's annoyance, it doesn't show. "I really ought to check, just to be safe."

Alastor looks away. As loathe as he is to even acknowledge his own fragility, he truly isn't sure of the extent of his own injuries - given that he's not used to receiving them in the first place. And he'd be damned (well, damned twice) if Adam had ruptured something vital, spelling the radio demon's second death a few hours after the fact.

He grits his teeth. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

"Lovely. If you could just lie back, sir..." As he obliges, she kneels beside the couch. "I'm just going to feel for any swelling..." Her hands hover over him-

"Er, wait." Alastor abruptly sits up.

"It's alright, I won't touch your wound!" Trudy soothes. "I'll just be feeling down here..." She gestures to his midsection (which elicits a sharp flinch).

"No, I-" He hesitates. "I'm... not sure this is necessary."

"Oh, Alastor, stop worryin'!" Rosie reassures him with a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Trudy is quite picky about her meals. She'd never go for venison."

"That's... not what..."

Alastor pauses, and evidently decides against trying to explain what he meant. He reluctantly lies back against the cushions again.

"I'm going to place my hands under your shirt, sir. If you feel any pain, please alert me."

"Very well."

As Trudy lifts his shirt, he looks like he is going to say something more - but whatever it is dies on his tongue the moment her hands make contact with his stomach. He brings one knee up sharply.

"Tender there, sir?"

"No! No, your hands are cold." His words have gone uncharacteristically stiff.

Trudy methodically probes one side of his belly, then the other (which in turn causes his other knee to pop up). This time when Trudy asks if he's in pain, he merely shakes his head.

The surgeon furrows her brow, concentrating. Human-animal hybrids like Alastor already take a bit of poking around just to get a sense for each unique configuration of organs. It doesn't help that the man is bracing for every touch...

"Are you sure this doesn't hurt, sir?" she murmurs tentatively. "You're very tense."

"Yes." The word comes out like a hiss. She glances at the radio demon's face. He's wearing his typical showman's smile, but his eyes are fixed on the ceiling with a weird, wide, unwavering stare.

Finally the surgeon sits back. "Well, I don't feel anything concerning. But to be honest, sir, I can't feel much of anything." She turns apologetically to her employer. "His stomach is all clenched up..."

But Rosie is simply standing there pressing a huge grin into her glove. She's known Alastor for decades. She can read his expressions like a magazine.

"Alastor, darling," Rosie drawls casually. "Are you ticklish?"

From the radio demon's reaction, you'd think she'd asked if he was an Exorcist. He scrambles to sit up. "No! Why would-"

"You're ticklish. That's..." She catches herself just before the word precious.

"...What?!" There's an edge of defensiveness to his voice that Rosie very rarely hears from him.

"Why are you embarrassed?"

"I'm not emb- That's not- what-" Oh, she's giving him that look. "I'm just- I wasn't-"

As he speaks, Alastor's voice suddenly goes thin. His gaze turns inward. "I'm stuttering. I don't stutter! I've never stuttered!" He clutches his coat closer around himself. "I am the RADIO DEMON, for heaven's sake, I don't sta-AHH! Haha-!"

Evidently a scribble to the ribs is a very effective way to interrupt a panicking demon. Rosie runs her fingers from his hip up his side to his arm and back a couple times for good measure.

The amount of startled laughter she is able to draw from just this surprise touch delights her - the poor man is so ridiculously sensitive that a five-second one-handed tickle leaves him fully breathless.

"Okay! Okay, okahay! Keheh- Rosie!"

"Sorry dear, couldn't resist." She holds her hands up, still beaming like a stadium light. "I'll stop torturing you."

Alastor clears his throat. "You're not torturing me, dearest." He straightens his bowtie, clearly attempting to salvage his dignity. "You know what I always say, laughter is a powerful sign of-"

He cuts off with a sharp inhale and defensive flinch as Rosie perches on the edge of the sofa beside Trudy. She grins.

"You're right. That's certainly your specialty, isn't it?"

Alastor forces a nervous chuckle. "Never fully dressed without a smile, you know."

"Well don't worry, darling. I understand." She pats his knee. "Just because you've got the scariest evil cackle in hell doesn't mean you appreciate having it tickled out of you."

Rosie had expected this assurance to put him at ease, but if anything, he seems more troubled.

"Why would I mind a little, ah..." Tickling. Tick-ling. He can't bring himself to articulate two syllables. Is this all he's left with without his staff? "...Er, a little bit of levity? Can't let things get too serious, can we?" With another quick cough, the radio demon finally manages to get his voice to fall back into his familiar breezy cadence. He turns to Trudy. "Now, are we... quite finished with that examination?"

"Nothing seems amiss, from what I can feel." Trudy takes a step back. "Which is not much, but I think I've already made you uncomfortable enough..."

"Nonsense! I'm perfectly at ease!" He lies back again and smooths his coat. "Please, finish your little checkup. I insist."

Trudy regards him curiously for a moment. "Right." Her hands hover over his belly again. "But if you want me to stop, sir, just say the word-"

"I assure you that w-won't be necessahary..."

Trudy watches him seize up before her fingers even make contact. This time she presses a little deeper into his belly, trying to feel around his defensiveness.

"You are punching holes in my couch," Rosie remarks dryly, watching the poor demon's claws bury themselves in the cushions.

"I kn... ohow, I'm just-" He squeezes his eyes shut as Trudy hits a particularly bad spot. And then another. And another... hell, his torso one big bad spot.

"What do you think, Trudy?"

The young doctor just shakes her head.

"Alastor. Darling. You have GOT to relax."

"I am!" Alastor's composure is dangling by the thinnest of threads.

"Maybe it would help," Trudy says, with infinite caution, "to just go ahead and laugh, sir."

A beat. And then Rosie bursts into laughter.

"Giving new meaning to the 'deer in the headlights' expression, my friend." She scoots closer. "I thought you just said you don't mind a little 'levity'..."

"I don't!"

"In that case. Carry on, Trudy - Auntie Rosie is gonna help our patient out a bit while you work."

Too late, Alastor realizes what his fellow overlord has in mind. "Wait, wait! Ros-"

A delicate set of nails find the region just under his ribs - and it's all downhill from there.

"Ah! Fuhuck!" Alastor chokes on a curse before he can catch himself. He twists sideways, collapses into muffled giggles, and briefly manages to pull himself together - just barely - with a few hyperventilated breaths. "Rosie, really! This isn't- please- ack! I can't-" There's that damn stutter again. He hadn't even stuttered when Adam slashed him.

And now, Great Alastor the Radio Demon, undone by some scribbles? And a medical exam?!

Meanwhile, Trudy can feel even less now than she could before, her patient's belly now quaking with silent, suppressed mirth. But she takes one look at Rosie's delighted expression... and continues probing anyway, curling a subtle little smirk of her own.

It seems Rosie has picked up on a slightly less tangible injury than anything Trudy can address. But fortunately, they've just stumbled upon a promising potential treatment.

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Part 2 is already pretty much finished - my brain is just too mushy at this point to contend with Tumblr's shitty text interface any longer, and this feels like a good stopping point.

Lemme get a good night sleep and another dose of Prozac and I'll have the rest out shortly 😅

💜 - Cozy

[justatasteofyourpoison]

We interrupt this broadcast for a brief intermission…

(A Hazbin Hotel/Alastor x Fem Reader fan fiction)

Part 8

Pairing: Alastor x Female reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, smut, sexual content, p in v, rough sex (not for me, but maybe you), fluff, not the best grammar.

Word count: 1.1kish

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The rain drops slowly slid down the window pane as you looked out at the gloomy sky. You and Alastor had thankfully made it home before it started to pour. Of course Alastor could use his powers to whisk you both home, but he was always reluctant to transport you if he didn’t need to for some reason…

Alastor was sat on the bed, he seemed quieter than usual after the revelations in the forest. He had revealed that he’d become this powerful overlord because of Vox. Vox was Hell’s somewhat charismatic Television Demon who was part of a threesome called the V’s, which also included Valentino and Velvette. Valentino was the biggest porn producer in hell (not to mention Vox’s incredibly hot-headed plaything) and Angel Dust’s nefarious master in the studio. Whereas Velvette was a social media star, fashionista and general loudmouth… You knew Alastor and Vox have always had beef, but you had never found out why…

“Are you alright Alastor?” You whispered quietly taking a seat next to him on the bed.

“Apologies my dear, I didn’t mean to lose my composure back there” he said smoothing the sides of his hair down. You hadn’t really thought anything of it, you’d seen Alastor lose his temper before, that was nothing. But you knew he was a proud being and liked to always be in control, or at least appear that way…

“I just hate thinking of that wretched waste of cables…” he sighed putting his arm round you. You nuzzled your head into his neck. You relished any affection that you received from Alastor. No other beings in Hell got to see him like this so you couldn’t help but feel giddy.

He kissed the top of your head before you felt his hands gently move under your chin, tilting your head so he could look deep into your eyes. You both sat there for a moment, lost… Catching fire... His lips met yours softly before he worked his tongue in to dance with yours. Your hands instinctive moved to hold his face in yours as you both got lost in the passion. His face felt chiseled, his muscles toned from years of wearing a smile. You pulled away gently “Alastor” you whispered “what happened with you and Vox?” you questioned.

“I’ll get to that” he said pressing his lips back onto yours in another fit of passion.

“Let’s have some fun before that story” he mumbled breathlessly in-between kisses.

The Radio Demon moved his large frame over you and gently eased your thighs apart before gingerly laying himself down onto you, the size difference between you both was quite staggering. You could feel his hardness pressing into your crotch and you couldn’t help but gently start rocking your hips. His breathing became heavier and quiet moans left his mouth. He moved a clawed hand onto your breast and massaged it lightly, his thumb brushing against your nipple. You pushed the demon away for a moment and he knelt over you, you never could get over that sight - this powerful overlord wanted you? You hitched your dress up over your head and could see the Demon’s grin grow wider and he swiftly began undressing too. Before you knew it you were both naked and Alastor laid back down onto you, his cock gently rubbing up and down your now sodden slit. He bit into your neck and you yelped with pleasure before you could feel him easing himself into you.

“Alastor…” you groaned

“There’s my girl” he whispered as his finally thrust the entirety of his large cock inside you and began thrusting with a hypnotic rhythm.

This time with Alastor felt different. The urgency was there, but at the same time he seemed to be enjoying your body more; taking his time with you. You jolted your head back into the pillow with euphoria at the Demon’s movements.

He thrusted hard and slow into you and kissed you deeply, periodically pulling his face away to gaze into your eyes. You could feel him massaging your clit as he gyrated his groin against you and you reveled in the heat building in your loins, you dug your nails into his buttocks and pulled him closer to you, begging him not to stop on your path to ecstasy. As you came your hungry cunt pulsated around Alastor and he let out a satisfied moan “I’m so glad I can please you” he cooed biting at the top of your ear.

“But we’re not done here yet.” He teased pulling out of you and turning you on your side.

He spooned his body against yours and lifted your thigh up in his large powerful hand. With his other hand he pushed himself back into you. In this position his cock pressed firmly against you sweet spot and you soon found yourself gripping the bed, the pleasure was almost too much. “C’mon my sweet” the demon growled “I know you can come for me again”. He let your leg down which made your pussy grip tighter around him. “Fuck Alastor!” You screamed as he clapped hard against your buttocks.

“Careful my dear.” He panted “Heaven might hear you at this rate” he laughed loudly reaching his hand round and rubbing your clit with firm circular motions. His cock hit you just where you wanted it and you let out an animalistic groan, shocking yourself as you could hear a new static sound in your voice. You turned round to the see Demon’s eyes grow bright as his thrusts became harder and faster at your noises. His claws gripped at your hips creating small tears over previous silver scars he had left. “Oh fuck! Y/N!” He roared as his cock pulsed inside you, giving the demon the release he so desired.

As you both slowly recovered from the activities Alastor gently eased himself out of you and pulled you close to him, his head lazily resting on your shoulder.

“Well that was unexpected! You chuckled, placing your hand behind you both and giving his arse a little squeeze “I was expecting story time part two.”

“Part two?” the Radio Demon yawned.

“Yes you were telling me about you and Vox?” you reminded him gently. A few moments passed. No response. You then heard quiet snores behind you.

“These rutting deer” you whispered, “they’re all trousers and no talk” you laughed to yourself before snuggling back into the sound asleep Radio Demon.

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All installments:

[snarkybluechristian]

Hazbin Hotel: Angel’s Worst Day

 Angel Dust could easily name the worst day of his life before the one that destroyed his heart.  It was ironically the day he found out Cassie existed. His restored memories allowed him to remember that day perfectly.  It was October 1928.  Angel was only 18, but he had already found his own apartment where he could be apart from his father and his obnoxious older brother.   He went straight there after a particularly grueling family meeting.  As was his habit once he set foot in the door, Angel lit a cigarette and sat down on the couch with his mail.  After sorting through some bills and advertisements, he found something that made him smile.  It was a letter from Maggie. They had been in the habit of corresponding through letters since most days she was too busy with school to talk on the phone.  Angel opened the letter and read its contents. As he read its contents, Angel’s eyes grew larger and his mouth dropped open.  He didn’t even notice when the cigarette fell on the floor and fizzled out.   In his shock, Angel grabbed his coat, bolted out the door, and drove straight to Maggie’s house.   When he got there, he entered through the back lot and opened her back door to find Maggie eating a sandwich at a small table in her kitchen. Out of breath, Angel said, “Maggie…I got your letter…Is it true?  Are you really…?” Maggie’s lips curled into a sad smile as she stood up from her chair and turned sideways.  Her belly was poking out underneath her purple dress.  She was pregnant. Angel almost fainted where he stood.  Maggie helped him to a chair and tried to get him a glass of water, but he stopped her. “Don’t, Mag,” Angel said standing up and gesturing for her to get back in her seat.  “You’re carrying a baby.  You don’t have to wait on me.”   “Thanks,” Maggie said.  “This extra weight is killing my feet.” Angel grabbed a glass from her cupboard, filled it up with water from the sink, and chugged that glass as quickly as he could.  After placing the glass in the sink, he sat down at the table in the other chair while Maggie continued to eat her sandwich. “Maggie, I really hate to ask, but are you sure it’s mine?” Angel asked after a moment of awkward silence.   “Yes,” Maggie replied.  “I haven’t slept with anyone since then.  Besides, you were my first.” “Really?  So, you mean for all that flirting you did in school, you never actually got any guy to…?” “Nope, you took my virginity.  I didn’t tell you that cuz I didn’t wanna make you nervous.” “And here I took ya for a baby vamp,” Angel said smiling briefly before his face sank again.  “Oh, my God…Mag, how long have you known?” “I found out about a week ago,” Maggie said as her brown eyes stared at the food in front of her.  “I mean, I had noticed that I wasn’t bleeding as much and that I’d been gaining weight, but I didn’t think anything of it until I started upchucking in the john every morning.  Last week, I finally went to see the doctor and he told me that I’m over four months pregnant…” “Jesus Christ…” “I did ask him about an abortion.  He said that officially such a thing is forbidden, but unofficially, it’s too late.  It’s alright, though.  I’m Catholic.  I don’t believe in abortion anyway.  Besides, I’ve started warming up to the idea of being a mom…” Maggie looked up to see that Angel was resting his head on the table on top of his arms and not responding. “Angel, I’m so sorry…” Maggie started to say. “What do you have to be sorry for?” Angel interrupted.  “Your body is just doing what God intended.  I’m the stupid fag who didn’t use a condom and got ya knocked up.” Maggie sat back in her chair and said nervously, “Angel, I really hate to ask this cuz I know you ain’t the type to get insured, especially not to a girl, but I need some help here.  I’m scared.  Mom’s still workin’ as a nurse, and Daddy still works at that bank.  They know, and they’ve told me I don’t need to worry about nothin’, but I know that’s a lot of bushwa.  Money’s been tight lately, and the baby will make it harder.  I’ve been asked to leave school since I’m showing, and I can’t go out again until after the baby’s born.  I don’t know what I’m gonna do once the kid gets here.  I’ve thought about moving away eventually to make things easier on my family, but I can’t do anything without cash.  Look, I don’t wanna be a burden or nothin’, but I need some help here…” “Say no more,” Angel replied with a sigh.  “This happened because I needed you to help me discover myself.  I’ll help ya out.” “Thanks, Angel, you’re a real pal,” Maggie said biting into her sandwich in relief.  “Just let me do some calculating and I’ll find out how much we need a month to support the baby.  I’ll get back to work as soon as I can, so you don’t have to keep bearin’ the burden by yourself.  Oh, my folks will be so happy.  Hey!  Where are ya goin’?” Angel had gotten up from his chair and opened the door heading to the rest of the house.  He knew what he had to do, and it hurt like hell. “Angel?” Maggie asked again. “I’m goin’ to call my Dad, Maggie,” Angel said with pain behind his voice.  “I’ll tell him we’re married so our family will support ya.”   “What?!” Maggie yelled as her pupils dilated in terror.  “Why?!  Angel, you can’t!  You told me your Dad was…” “A horrible and evil man?” Angel said turning back and lingering by the door.  “Yes, he is, but what choice do we have?  Neither of us has money on our own.  He’d find out about you and our child eventually.  It’s better that I tell him now and get it over with.  Besides, we both know how the world is going to treat you if you remain an unwed mother.  At least, this way, you’d be taken care of.  After all, you could be carrying his heir.” “Angel, you don’t have to do this,” Maggie said getting up on her feet and walking over to him as quickly as her swelling feet would allow.  “You don’t love me, and I don’t love you.  You don’t need to lie to them.  Forget about it.  We’ll do somethin’ else.  I don’t want the mob involved…” “Maggie, the mob got involved as soon as the kid was conceived,” Angel said in resignation.  “There’s no way around it.  We can’t keep this a secret.  If I start wiring money to you often enough, my Dad will start asking questions.  And if I don’t tell him, someone else will.  Hell, depending on who else you’ve told, he might already know.” “But how?” “He’s the Don, Mag.  He has sources everywhere.  If he hasn’t, it’s best if he hears it from me and if I tell him we’ve taken care of it already.  I’m sorry.” Maggie’s face sank as she sat back down and tried unsuccessfully to conceal a few tears. Angel reluctantly went to her living room, picked up the phone, and told the operator to call his Dad.  He felt his stomach turn.   Fortunately, Maggie came in and sat next to him on her couch for emotional support. Unfortunately, Angel’s brother answered the phone first. “Hey!  Who is this?” he asked. “Eric, it’s me,” Angel said tersely.  “Give the phone to Dad.” “What for?” “That’s none of your beeswax, Eric.  I need to talk to Dad.” “What did you do?  Did you fuck up and get arrested again?” “Like you’re one to talk.  Look, could you stop futzing around and just get Dad please?” “Hold on.  Dad, it’s Angelo…” Angel heard his father’s voice on the other line.  Maggie gripped her hand in his while he told his Dad what had happened.  The conversation was brief.  His Dad was shocked and upset, as expected.  Oddly enough, he wasn’t that angry when Angel said he wanted to support Maggie, but he acted oddly suspicious when he said that they had eloped already.  He wanted to see them both. A few hours later, Angel and Maggie pulled up to his father’s house.  They both got out of the car and stared for at the building for a while.  He knew he was in for something terrible.  She knew all the horror stories he told her and every story she had ever read about the mob and quaked in fear while holding onto his arm. “Maggie, are you alright?” Angel asked.  “You’re kinda cutting the blood pressure to my arm here.” “I can’t do this,” Maggie said in a panic.  “Talkin’ to you is one thing, but I’m talkin’ to Don Lucchese.  He could kill me if I do anything wrong.” “Welcome to my world,” Angel said with a sad smile. Maggie kept shaking and started breathing hard, so Angel tried to swallow his own fear and took her arm in his.   “Hey,” Angel said trying to sound as confident as he could.  “We’ll be okay.  We just have to pretend we’re married. That shouldn’t be too hard.  Just let me do the talking, and if that doesn’t work, at least, we go down together.” Angel was never that good at being comforting.  Maggie was on the verge of hyperventilating, so he hugged her sideways until she started breathing normally. When she started to calm down, Angel’s green eyes locked with her brown eyes as he said, “I swear to God I won’t let either of them hurt you.  Okay?” Maggie smiled, nodded, stood up, and gasped in surprise. “What’s the matter?” Angel asked. “Angel, the baby just kicked,” Maggie said.  “He’s never done that before.” “Really?” Angel asked putting his hand on her belly until he felt the kick.  “Oh, my God.  I feel ‘em.  Dammit, he’s still goin’.  He could be a fighter.” “Or, she could be a dancer…” Maggie said before they both heard Angel’s brother talking. “How much longer do you plan on keeping us waitin’, little brother?” they both heard Angel’s brother say. Angel and Maggie looked up to see Eric posed against the open door.  He looked like Angel, but his eyes were icy blue and crueler, and his clothes were black and white and not as colorful as Angel’s were. “What the hell are ya doin’ anyway?” Eric asked spitefully. Angel smirked, squatted on the ground, rubbed Maggie’s abdomen, and said, “Not much.  I was just thinkin’ about givin’ my new wife a hand job on the sidewalk in front of all your neighbors.  I know how little action you get, so you can watch if ya pay me.” Eric’s face contorted in disgust while Maggie snickered quietly. “So, that’s the girl?” Eric asked without moving from the door.  “She’s just a kid.”   “She’s my wife,” Angel said in annoyance.  “And her name is Margaret.  You ought to treat her with respect.” “She’s far too cute for ya,” Eric said spitefully.  “How much are you paying her to be seen with you, Ethel?”   “Up yours,” Angel retorted standing up and wrapping his arm around Maggie’s shoulder.  “Where’s Dad?  He’s the one who wanted to see us.” “Inside his office,” Eric said as Angel took Maggie’s arm and they walked up the stairs onto the front porch and into the house.  “Let me take her coat.” Maggie looked at Angel who nodded to show it was okay, and she let Eric take her worn coat and looked around the ornately-decorated home Angel had told her so much about.   While Angel took off his coat, Eric slowly hung Maggie’s coat on the rack while staring her down mercilessly.  Angel knew what he was doing.  Eric was studying her and sizing her up.  He always did the same thing whenever he met someone new.  It was usually just annoying, but now that it was being used on his best friend, it was infuriating.   “Take a picture,” Angel said throwing his coat on Eric’s head and walking over to where Maggie was.  “It’ll last longer.  Alright, hon.  Let’s get this over with.” Eric tossed the coat on the floor, walked past them into the office down the hall, and said, “I’ll just let Dad know you’re here.” Maggie and Angel finally let themselves breathe once he was gone.  Angel immediately noticed that Maggie was shaking.   Angel rested his hand on her shoulder and said, “You’re doin’ really well, Mag.  Don’t worry.  We just have to talk to my Dad, pretend we’re married for about ten more minutes, and then we can leave and get you something you want.  Just remember.  Let me do all the talking.” Maggie turned to him with a sad smile and said, “You have a really nice house.  It’s so big and beautiful.  It’s hard to believe that you had such a miserable life here.  I suppose it’s like what Jesus said about the white-washed tombs.” “That’s one word for it,” Angel said lighting a cigarette. “Angel, will our baby grow up like that?” Maggie asked turning around to face him.  “How involved do you think your family’s goin’ to be?  Because if the baby’s goin’ to have to endure that, I feel like I should attempt an abortion.” Angel paused while puffing on his cigarette.  That was a question he was afraid to answer. Nevertheless, Angel pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and said, “From my experience, it depends on what the baby’s gender is.  If he’s a boy, my Dad’s gonna try to groom him into the next Don.  But if she’s a girl, I imagine he’ll just throw money at her and ignore her like my poor sister Molly.  Women don’t work for the mob, so he doesn’t have much use for them.  Wish I could give you better news.  If he’s a boy, I hope to God he isn’t a fag like me or his life is gonna be hell.  Lord knows I’ve had a hard enough time hidin’ it from my family.  I don’t wanna know what they’d do to him…” Maggie snatched the cigarette from Angel’s hand and started puffing on it herself. “I’m sorry, Mag,” Angel said sadly.  “I’ve screwed you in more ways than one…” “It does no good to cry about it now,” Maggie said handing him back the cigarette.  “We’ll have plenty of time for that later.  Let’s just focus on getting out of here alive.  But if we make it, you owe me a real handjob and a night on the town.” Angel chuckled quietly under his breath and said, “Mag, if we make it out alive, I’ll treat you like a goddamn queen.” Eric finally shouted down the hall, “You lovebirds can come in now!” “Finally,” Angel said snuffing out his cigarette on an ashtray and taking Maggie’s arm again.  “Buck up, sister.  Here, we go.  Whatever you do, don’t let him see you scared and don’t let him see you cry.” The two of them walked down the hall into Don Lucchese’s office at the end of the hall.  It was a luxurious office complete with paintings, a fireplace, bookshelves, a large desk, large office chairs, and the whole shebang.   Angel hated that place, and he hated the brawny, 42-year-old sitting smugly in his red leather chair even more.  Don Lucchese stared at Maggie and her growing belly with sick delight while Eric gloated from his spot leaning against the wall next to the desk.   Maggie looked away and fidgeted uncomfortably while Angel wrapped his arm around her shoulder to try to calm her down.  It was all he could do to hide his disgust. “You wanted to see us, Dad?” Angel asked to get his attention off Maggie.   “Of course,” Don Lucchese said reaching his open hand out towards Maggie.  “Why wouldn’t I want to meet my daughter-in-law?  What’s your name, dear?” “Margaret Walters,” Maggie replied cautiously handing him her hand.   Once the Don had kissed her hand, he let go of her hand and said gently, “Sit down, Margaret.  You look exhausted.  You too, Angelo.” The pair looked at each other and quickly sat down in the chairs in front of the desk.   Angel placed his hand on top of hers and said, “We eloped this afternoon.  I’m gonna find her a nice place to stay and look after her and the baby, with your blessing, of course.” “Of course,” Don Lucchese said.  “But I have a condition of my own.” Angel felt his heart drop and Maggie grip his hand more tightly, but he maintained his composure. “What kind of condition, Dad?” Angel asked. “Well, you actually have to get married,” Don Lucchese started. “Dad, what are you talking about?  We are already married.” “Then how come none of my sources in the judiciary office saw you two come by?” Angel was stunned into silence, so Maggie blurted out, “It’s a common law marriage.” “Maggie!” Angel chided. Don Lucchese chuckled under his breath and said, “Can’t say I’m not disappointed.  I’ve come to expect this from you by now, Angelo, but this time, I’m not letting you futz it up for the rest of us.  After all, you may have sired my next heir.  That’s something your brother can’t even do.” Eric averted his gaze to hide his shame.  That movement wasn’t lost on Angel, but he felt no sympathy. “The family won’t accept an illegitimate child as my heir,” Don Lucchese continued.  “So, you two have to get married…” “A common law marriage is as good as any,” Angel said crossing his arms in annoyance.  “Why do ya care?”   “To my colleagues, it’s the same as living in sin,” Don Lucchese replied.  “Why did you lie to me about eloping in the first place?  Are you hiding something, Angelo?” “It’s my fault,” Maggie interrupted. “Maggie…” Angel tried to chide. “That’s what he’s tryin’ to hide,” Maggie lied.  “I’m a working girl and I’ve been working for a while because I wanted to save up for a proper wedding, but today, I was asked to leave and don’t have enough funds for it.  Don’t be hard on Angel.  He wanted to just elope.  I was the stubborn one who wouldn’t listen.  He was just tryin’ to save me the embarrassment.  Lyin’ about it was my idea.  I didn’t think you’d face us if we weren’t already married.” Angel pleaded at her with his eyes, and she glared back. Don Lucchese didn’t say anything, but he reached into his desk and pulled out an official-looking document.  Angel and Maggie looked at it more closely and realized that it was a marriage license.   “If that’s the case, dear, why don’t you two just sign this certificate?” Don Lucchese asked.  “I had a judge sign it earlier, so all you two have to do is sign it and you will be considered married.” Angel and Maggie looked at each other again before Maggie said, “If it isn’t too much, I’d still like a wedding…” “That’s why we were asking for money,” Angel interrupted.  “I want to have a small wedding with her.” Don Lucchese didn’t answer, so Eric answered for him, “Alright…Do what you want then…” “Oh,” Maggie said overdramatically moaning and rising from her seat.  “I feel so ill.  We’d better go home.” “Oh, yeah,” Angel said catching onto her cue and walking with her towards the door.  “Just put the check in the mail.  I’d better get her home.  We’ll show ourselves out.” Angel wrapped his arm around Maggie to support her and whispered, “Maggie, baby, you were brilliant…” Maggie smiled at him before Eric slid in front of the office door they were about to exit. “What’s eating you?” Angel asked. “Are you sure you don’t want to just sign that document, Angelo?” Eric asked.   “Of course, I’m sure,” Angel said in annoyance.  “My future wife wants a wedding, so that’s what I’m gonna give her.  Could you get out of our way now?” “Are you sure that’s the reason, little brother?” Eric asked cruelly glaring through them while raising an eyebrow.  “Are you sure it’s not just because you don’t like skirts?” Angel felt his heart stop in terror but tried to hold his composure as he said, “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about…” “Yes, you do,” Eric interrupted pulling the  manila envelope out of a pocket in his coat.  “Or is that not you in these pictures?” Angel swiped the envelope, looked inside, and saw the photos of himself dressed in drag and kissing men at different bars around Greenwich Village. Maggie audibly gasped.     Angel’s face fell completely, and he started shaking.  It was all he could do to not start panicking.   “I’ve suspected as much for a while, little brother,” Eric said circling around, stopping behind Angel, and looking over his shoulder.  “That’s why I had you followed.  Psychologists would say you have a serious mental illness.  But don’t worry, I’ve read that it’s pathological.  It can be cured.  You just need some electric shock therapy.  We called some of our contacts at the sanitorium.  They have a room waiting just for you…” “You didn’t…” Maggie said while Angel listened quietly and kept shaking. “No…” Angel whispered pathetically.   “They’re waiting outside now,” Eric said with an even more twisted smile.  “If you try to leave, they’ll put you away forever, Angelo, and you’ll probably never see the light of day again.  But hey, at least, you won’t be making us look bad no more.” Angel felt some tears forming at the corner of his eyes. “You’re making a mistake,” Maggie lied stepping between him and Angel.  “You have the wrong guy.  He knocked me up.  He ain’t no fag.” Eric turned to her and replied, “Save the lines, doll.  I know you’re just a fluke.  You think these are the only photos I have?  I have more than enough evidence to put him away for a long time.” “You can’t do this…” Maggie snarled angrily.   “Shut it, ya quiff,” Eric retorted getting his face close to hers.  “Or, you go with him.” “I ain’t crazy,” Maggie retorted glaring back into his eyes. “I’m sure we can make up a reason…” Eric replied. “Eric, that’s enough,” Don Lucchese said.  “You’ve made your point.  We can’t hurt her.” Eric glared at Maggie one last time before backing away to resume his former perch. Don Lucchese pulled out a cigar, lit it, put it in his mouth, and said, “I must congratulate you, Angelo.  You’ve found yourself a good doll.  I ain’t seen many women willin’ to stand behind their men like yours has.  Especially not in front of us.  It’s a shame you ain’t attracted to her.  She’s quite the livewire.” Angel was paying attention to everything even if he wasn’t responding to it.  He wandered over to the window and peeked out to see if his brother was telling the truth.  He was. “You can’t run away from this one, Angelo,” Don Lucchese said.  “Either you make yourself honest or you leave with the men in white coats and your girlfriend loses custody of your son as soon as he’s born.” “You can’t!” Maggie yelled.   “Pipe down, sweetheart,” Don Lucchese said.  “Either you sign the document, or you lose the kid.  It’s your choice.  What’s it gonna be?” Angel lingered by the window staring at the white van in absolute terror, but he could hear Maggie walking to the desk and the sound her pen made when she signed the marriage license. “Now, it’s your turn, Angelo,” Don Lucchese said.  “Angelo?” “The poor fag has lost his mind,” Eric mocked when Angel didn’t respond.  “It’s a shame, too.  She’s a looker.  I guess I’ll do it.” “What?!” Maggie yelled sounding terrified.  “But I don’t love you either…” Angel had enough.  He walked away from the window and over to the desk with terrified anger behind his eyes.  Don Lucchese saw him and didn’t say anything. “Darlin’, can you really afford to say no?” Eric cooed while he took the pen from Maggie’s hand and wrapped his arm around her waist while she tensed at his touch.  “It’s alright, doll.  I ain’t all bad.  I’ll take care of ya.  Just let me sign my name…HEY!” Without saying a word, Angel snatched the pen from his brother and shoved Eric off Maggie so hard that he fell on the floor. “Angel…” Maggie said in surprise.   Eric quickly got to his feet and started to lunge after his brother, but Don Lucchese held up his hand and made him back down. Angel signed his name on the document, stuffed it in the envelope, grabbed Maggie’s hand, and pulled her behind him as he tried to exit the room.   But before he could leave, Don Lucchese said, “Wait, son.  Don’t you want your check?  You’ll need to find yourselves a place to live.”   Angel let go of Maggie’s hand and walked back to snatch the check from his father’s hand.  Eric was standing close by and glaring proudly.  The check was for $50,000.  He stuffed it in the pocket of his coat and returned to Maggie. “Get somethin’ nice for the poor dame,” Don Lucchese said as Angel grabbed Maggie’s hand and exited the office.  “For God’s sake, you knock her up and can’t even get her some decent clothes?” Angel fumed angrily as he grabbed both the coats from the rack, threw open the front door, and pulled Maggie out behind him. The men in the white van drove away as soon as they saw them exit the house together, evidently some previously agreed upon signal.   When the van drove off, Maggie asked, “Angel…?” “Don’t say anything yet,” Angel warned quietly and fearfully.  “Not while they can possibly hear us.” “Okay,” Maggie whispered as they finally made it to the car.   Angel opened the passenger door and helped Maggie climb into her seat.  Then once she was settled, he shut her door, opened the door behind her, and threw the coats and the envelope in the back seat.   Once he shut that door, Angel saw Eric staring at him from the office window.  He was still smirking proudly before he waved at him.  It was nothing short of unnerving. Angel turned away without responding, entered his car, and drove away as quickly as he could.   Everything was quiet between Angel and Maggie until they made it out of the neighborhood.  The night was coming fast, and the streetlamps were coming on.  Angel could feel Maggie staring at her, but all his focus was on holding everything together until they were a safe distance away.   Even so, Angel felt tears escaping the corners of his eyes as he finally reached downtown.  When Maggie saw them, she started sobbing. It was then that Angel parallel-parked the car next to the sidewalk.  Maggie continued to cry as if nothing had changed. Angel hesitated for a moment before he finally said, “Maggie, I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I was stupid.  I was so fucking stupid.  I should never have dragged you into this.  I should never have called them.  Now, you’re part of this too, and they’ll never let you go.  I should have known they’d pull something like this.  Mag, I’m so sorry…” “I ain’t cryin’ for me,” Maggie interrupted between sobs.  “Angel, I’m cryin’ for you.  I knew what you told me about them, but dear God…They were ready to throw you away in a heartbeat just because you wouldn’t sign a damn document.  This is what you’ve had to live with your whole life, and now, you’re in deeper shit because of me…” “No, Maggie,” Angel said slowly losing control of his tears.  “I’m the one who knocked you up.  I’m the reason you’re now a Lucchese.  I fucked things up for ya like I’ve fucked things up for myself my entire life…” Maggie stopped crying and just listened. More tears fell before Angel said, “I thought I was bein’ smart, Mag.  I thought I was takin’ care of everything.  I thought I was protectin’ myself.  I thought I could keep myself from getting hurt.  I thought I was smart enough to stay safe and get away, but it wasn’t enough.  No matter what I do, they always find a loophole.  And now, they have me by my fuckin’ balls…”

It was Angel’s turn to cry, and he finally did.  He cried harder than he ever had in his life up to that point.  The only time he would cry harder would be after Cassie’s death.  Angel leaned on Maggie’s shoulder and released the pent-up pain his heart had felt practically since the day he was born.  He didn’t know how long he sat there crying like that, but Maggie held him without flinching.