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sparrowrye · 24 days ago

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The Archivist’s Oath || Chapter 28: Ready to Fire

Synopsis: Alastor finds an Archivist who can translate Old World texts. Equally bound to their duty, you and Alastor traverse the tricky landscape of love and commitment…but to whom and to what?

Chapter Summary: The attack on the White Angels is ready. But things never go according to plan.

Note: ignore the ugly formatting for now. I don’t have internet so I can’t use my computer like normal.

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I pulled my hood tighter around my face and tried to peer through the onslaught of wind and rain. Vaggie, Charlie, Rosie and I were working side by side to build one of the last few windmills in the Agriculture district.

Vox's replicated blueprints had long been ruined and we were working entirely off memory—we had already built four. Fortunately, the windmills themselves were mostly built and just needed assembling and connecting.

Thunder crackled overhead, making everyone jump.

The storm served as cover to build the windmills all around the city before the White Angels caught on. We had a small opening between the end of the storm and when it passed, where the wind was just strong enough to power the windmills. If we waited too long, the wind would die down and the White Angels might see what we were trying to do. We still had yet to know the extent of their technology.

The rain was starting to let up.

One of the wings of the windmill nearly slipped out of my grasp. Vaggie and I clung to it and the wall for dear life. If the piece fell, this windmill was useless. I cursed Alastor for binding my wings.

Vaggie and I barely managed to lock it in place before sliding down the slick wall. Rosie dug through the dirt and pulled up the underground wire to connect it to the windmill. An orange light flickered in the base of it, meaning it was connected to power. A moment later, it turned green.

But then the storm picked up again. The wind whistled loudly through the ravine and fought with the trees. We took shelter in one of the caves and waited, wishing and hoping that the windmill remained intact. The propellers spun faster and faster.

Alastor was somewhere near the surface, waiting for the storm to clear before starting his illusion of building another giant windmill. The diversion would hopefully distract the White Angels long enough before it was too late.

Rosie's small radio from her personal cave sparked to life, and the angry voices of Vox and Alastor broke through. I was about to roll my eyes at their petty argument when I heard my name.

"What do you need her for?" Alastor demanded, though the wind on his side was making it hard to hear him clearly.

"Nothing's working like it should. I need her to translate what's on my screen," Vox snapped back. "We have to hurry before we lose the storm."

There was silence, likely from Alastor trying to find a workaround. Knowing we didn't have the time, I pressed the button on the side of the radio and said, "I'll make my way over."

Alastor's voice barely crackles through, "I will meet you in the center."

Rosie leaned forward. "Alastor you have stay there to be the diversion. I will go with her."

"You have a district to protect," he argued. "I can create the illusion just fine."

"I'll go with her," Charlie offered.

Rosie frowned. "Your father won't like that."

Charlie lifted her chin. "My father will live. Come on, let's go." She grabbed my hand and turned to address Vaggie in Spanish, telling her we would be back soon.

Then, with our hoods pulled tightly over our heads, we hurried into the storm.

It was like trying to open my eyes underwater. Everything was blurry and my eyes burned. The wind simultaneously pulled at our clothes and pushed against us, trying to keep us from our destination.

We were already soaked but now we looked like drenched rats by the time we reached Vox's underground fortress. We were out of breath from the ten minute run but we couldn't slow down yet. The wind and rain might let up any second.

We ran past the guard towers and followed Vox's men over the many bridges. I heard someone shout my name and skidded to a halt, and Charlie slammed into my back.

I searched for the source, but I couldn't see or hear it anymore. I chalked it up to my stressed mind and caught up with the guards.

They brought us through the maze-like ship, buried deep in the ground, until we came to a control room. The entire thing was on a slant and the room was illuminated by orange candles and the bright blue and white of different screens. Wires ran all over the floor, walls, and other computers.

Vox hovered over one of the screens, hands scrambling with a makeshift keyboard in Common Tongue. He looked up as we entered and quickly gestured me over.

Still trying to catch my breath, I swallowed my fears and went over to look at the screen.

"Everything was fine," Vox explained, "but then it suddenly stopped working. All the power just stopped building up."

My eyes searched the screen, trying to understand the issue. I didn't know how computers worked, but surely there was an alert or something that I could read.

"Show me what you normally do from the beginning," I instructed. Vox stepped up beside me and started moving a little white selection box around the screen. I saw four columns filled from green to red. But then the screen changed. Then again.

I reached across his arm. "Wait, go back!"

The screen went back to the previous page. I saw red alerts on the tops of the columns. Then I saw another alert at the top right. I pointed to it and Vox selected it, creating a drop down textbox of more words.

Excess charge detected. Primary capacity at 92%. Bypass code must be entered to activate emergency reserve.

Vox paled. "We don't have a code!"

"Is there a captain's log or any other papers left here?" I asked.

"You really think any of it survived?" he retorted.

I narrowed my eyes. "Is there?"

"Nothing that was readable. It was either torn to shreds or the ink faded."

I mumbled a curse and turned back to the screen. Without a code we couldn't bypass the primary capacity. A code could be any collection of numbers and letters, and they probably wouldn't have written it down anyways for safety reasons. Was there another screen—

"I got it!" Vox pushed past me and ran to another computer. His touch on my shoulder was brief, but my mind lingered on it. "I just need to stop sending so much power."

I joined him at the mobile computer sitting atop the old tech. It was all in Common Tongue, meaning he had created it himself, but instead of touching the screen he began to unplug wire after wired to the large box.

I ran back to the old screen and watched the percentage drop down to 80% and come out of the red zone. The alerts went away.

"That's it!" I shouted. "We're good now."

Vox ran over, again touching my shoulder as he passed in the small space, and moved the selection box around. I could tell he was moving entirely off of muscle memory and wasn't actually reading the Old language on screen. How many test runs had he done on this canon? How many had caused casualties?

He jumped to another large desk��this one controlled the canon itself. "Alastor put the illusion up! I need a test shot."

The radio was silent, save for the crackle, then Alastor suddenly spoke, "It's up."

Vox twisted a wire beside the console.

The ground shook.

The walls shook.

There was a loud hum in my ears and my lungs vibrated as the canon was fired. I stood there awkwardly, waiting for something to happen—at the very least to cause me to fall—but nothing did.

A new voice joined the radio. "Miss! Move forty degrees northeast."

Vox messed with the console again. "Load another test."

His fingers tapped the rusted metal impatiently and his foot wouldn't sit still as he waited. Finally, one excruciating minute later, the voice said, "Loaded. Ready to fire—"

Vox twisted the tip of the wire again. The room hummed and this time I heard a distinct POP of the dummy shot spinning out of the canon.

The room was silent. Thickly silent.

Muscles were tense. Ears were strained. Eyes were frozen.

"Miss! Fifteen degrees northwest."

"Load the real thing," he ordered.

"But sir—"

"We don't have time!" Vox barked. "Load the real bullet."

"Yes sir."

Seconds later, the ground shook. But it wasn't from us.

Vox looked over his shoulder at me and I realized from the look on his face that the White Angels were attacking.

Attacking the diversion.

Attacking Alastor.

I ran for the door but Vox caught my wrist. Panic shot through my throat as he pulled me away from the door. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"I...I'm..." I looked at the door. What was I doing? What could I do to help against giant canons? Alastor was a mage—a good one at that, albeit an asshole—and I was just an Archivist without her wings. I would just be getting in the way.

Vox slowly let go of my wrist and returned to the console just as the radio informed him the canon was loaded. I glanced over at Charlie, now realizing the sad, uncomfortable expression on her face.

The ground shook harder this time as the real bullet left the belly of the underground boat and out the canon's nozzle.

Then we waited.

The air was stale with age and anticipation; a mix of rust and anxiety.

I wished I could see what was happening, but I was also grateful that I couldn't. We were undoubtedly killing people in the process of destroying their communications tower. They were cruel murderers, as Vaggie testified to, but what if there were some like her? Some who were trapped in a civilization they were born into with no way out?

"Holt shi—it's a hit! A hit! We hit 'em!"

"YES!" Vox cheered.

Relief lowered my shoulders and I looked at Charlie, seeing the same expression. We had delayed the White Angel's plan, but at the cost of a few lives.

Soon to be ours, too, as explosions rattled directly overhead. Something reverberated through the stone and made all three of us fall. The makeshift lights flickered then went dark, plunging us into complete darkness.

I scrambled for nothing as my ears suffered the sound of the explosions and metal tearing directly above me. They were attacking where they had seen the canon fire from. Which, if I had to guess, was right next to us.

I didn't see it, but I felt it. I felt something large and metal fall on top of me. The force knocked the wind out of me and slammed my forehead into the ground. I must've lost consciousness because the next moment I was blinking unfocused eyes to a few flickering lights along the floor and Charlie right in my face.

I tried to get up but a bone-hollowing zip of pain shot through my leg and I cried out. My ankle was stuck but I couldn't see where or how, too flattened by the metal sheath to be able to see.

I heard Charlie yell something but I didn't register her until she was touching my arm and pushing against the metal sheet.

I breathed through tight lips and wished my adrenaline would block out the pain in my ankle. Tears started to fall and breathing became difficult. From the sound of Charlie's coughing, it wasn't just my crying that was making it hard to breathe.

Vox bumped into my shoulder as he slid over. He was bleeding from his head somewhere—a solid stripe of red flowing down the side of his face. He gritted his teeth as he pushed up and against the metal sheath with his feet.

I tried to use my working limbs to help push it, too. I expected another explosion to finish us off, but nothing ever came. It was eerily silent save for the blink and buzz of Vox's broken lights scattered around.

"On three," Vox said. "One. Two. Three!"

The sheet lifted off but I was dragged back with it. My foot must've been wedged somewhere. They tried again with the same result.

"Let's try—" Vox coughed, "—try from the side."

He and Charlie moved to the side of me and reached under the sheath.

"One. Two. Three!"

My ankle was loose. I dug my fingers into the rusted ground and dragged myself as far and as fast as I could. Vox and Charlie dropped the metal and it clattered loudly.

I chanced a look over my shoulder at my foot but it looked surprisingly normal—except for the fact that I couldn't move it.

"Come on, let's go!" Vox grabbed my arm and looped it over his shoulders and Charlie did the same. We stumbled through the near-pitch-black corridors that were equally in shambles.

Several times Charlie had to go first and drag me awkwardly behind while Vox tried to lift me through the narrow slit. I hobbled through each twist, pushing through white pain and trying to breathe through a tight throat.

The walls were getting tighter. The air getting thicker. The light dimmer. Were we even going in the right direction?

Static touched my ears.

Alastor was looking for me.

I mentally followed the signal and felt a tug on my mind, growing stronger the further we walked. I waited for his stupid red coat to make an appearance any minute.

We broke out into Vox's underground district and immediately took a big deep breath of fresh air—as fresh as his mining district could be. Alastor teleported in front of me with not a scratch on him.

My knee buckled and I nearly took Charlie down with me had Vox and Alastor not managed to catch us.

Alastor hooked his arm under my legs and I instinctively grabbed onto his shoulders. He held me tight to his chest and turned to leave, but Vox called, "Al wait! What's happening up there?"

"The mission was a success," Alastor answered over his shoulder without slowing down. I bit my lip to keep from wincing at the pain in my foot. He smelled like burnt cotton. Was he using an illusion? Was he hiding a new injury?

"They stopped firing?"

"Yes. You destroyed their canon."

Vox stumbled after him. "We have to debrief with everyone."

"I will be there soon," Alastor said flatly.

"Alastor it can't wait."

"Yes it can."

"My dad can heal her," Charlie said, successfully bringing him to a halt. "But we have to debrief first."

Alastor glanced down at me and I nodded. I wanted to be a part of, or at least hear, the discussion. My foot did not.

{|}

"You got lucky," Lucifer told me as he lightly moved his dark fingers over my foot. Apparently my entire foot had been shattered, which I wouldn't exactly call lucky.

The other Lords and Ladies hurried into the usual meeting room, significantly less drenched than the rest of us. Rosie was immediately at my side, warning me of the pain of healing magic. Little did she know I had been on the receiving end of such magic twice before—one by my own hand and one by my grandmother.

Lucifer sat in his usual chair but had my foot propped up on his lap. Charlie watched over his shoulder.

Lady Carmilla remained standing at the table. "The diversion worked and we successfully destroyed a large portion of their camp."

Lucifer began healing my foot and I immediately bit my sleeve and screwed my eyes shut. Alastor put his hand on my other arm in a silent offer of support. He stood between me and the table, meaning he was blocking me from view of the others. It was a good thing too since tears streamed down my face not even a full minute into it. The conversation continued on.

"Which means...?" Velvette asked impatiently.

"The migration of the rest of their people has been postponed. We have more time to get rid of them."

"We don't have the canon anymore, though," Vox said, dejected. "They destroyed it. And it will take months just to rebuild it."

"We won't need it," Lady Carmilla said firmly.

Velvette rolled her eyes. "How? It's been five years and the military district hasn't done jackshit to the White Angels."

"We've never had a reason to destroy them," Lady Carmilla said evenly. "We've been racing against them to capture other communities, but we've never needed to destroy them to save our own livelihood."

I choked on my tears and gripped the chair arm until my knuckles were bright white. I forced my breath through tight lips directly into my sleeve to keep from audibly whining.

Velvette crossed her arms. "It would be easy if we had a translator for Old Humanity's weapons." Her insinuation wasn't lost on anyone.

Lucifer paused his magic and glared across the long table, giving me a brief respite in the healing process. "No weapons," he declared. "We will not bring back those weapons of horror."

The room fell uncomfortably quiet.

Lucifer turned back to my foot and Lady Carmilla picked up the conversation again. "We've given ourselves a buffer period. We can discuss the next course of action as Storm Season comes to an end. In the meantime—" she looked at each of the Lords and Ladies, "—you should run routine patrols and keep guards posted at every entrance. We don't know what the White Angels will do now."

Velvette's eyes narrowed and she leaned on her hip. "So you blew them up and now we don't know if they'll try to attack us again? You poked the bear and thought 'let's just see what happens'?"

Lady Carmilla curled her nose at the younger woman. "In case you forgot, Velvette, we had to destroy their communications tower unless we wanted their entire hive to sail here and overtake our city. We've destroyed their canon, as well, so retaliation shouldn't be severe."

She gave a subtle but deliberate nod to Vox, who had built, tested, and fired the old canon that had just given Pentagram City another season to live.

"Well you're the military district," Velvette sneered. "Aren't you supposed to protect us? Isn't that why you even exist?"

I was getting frustrated. I was in so much pain and the two of them were fighting for no other reason than to fight. Velvette especially was being pitiful and annoying on purpose.

"Almost done," Lucifer whispered. He reached my toes and I grabbed Alastor's arm in a death grip. I thought I heard him wince but I soon became too focused on the sound of his voice directly in my ear.

"You're almost done, my dear." His hair brushed my sweaty forehead. "Just a little bit longer."

"My soldiers," Lady Carmilla argued, "will be stationed everywhere, as they always are. But every district needs precautions if something worse happens."

Rosie stood from her crouched position at my side and spoke before Velvette could find another factor to argue about. "Understood, Lady Carmilla. We will set up our own patrols."

The military Lady nodded.

"I need more men to fix my fortress," Vox said from his chair, still looking exhausted and dejected. "The one side is completely destroyed and caved in, and it's my central hub of powering the city when Storm Season passes."

"Perhaps the other districts can offer help," Lady Carmilla said. "I want our army ready for anything should the White Angels attack."

Lucifer finally finished and I let a huge sigh of relief. I rubbed away my tears with my sleeves and tentatively put my foot down. It felt funny, but it didn't hurt as bad. A migraine started to form at the base of my head.

"I can send some folks," Rosie offered. Then she glanced at Alastor, who grumbled at the look.

"I suppose I can send a few mages, as well."

Then everyone looked at Valentino and Vevlvette. The female co-leader threw her arms around Vox's shoulders, causing him to wince. "Of course we'll help you out, Voxy."

"Great!" Alastor fake-cheered. "Glad that everything is settled." He took my hand and helped me to my feet as Lucifer called the meeting to an end.

My foot was sore and still caused a funny limp, but was otherwise in near perfect condition. Pain and adrenaline still pulsed through my legs from the intense healing.

I managed to thank Lucifer before Alastor gently—impatiently—pulled me out of the room.

We managed a decent pace in the dwindling rain until we reached the usual halfway mark. Alastor attempted to carry me again but I pushed him away, determined to walk on my own.

That didn't stop him from walking just slightly too fast in an effort to make me either feel guilty or run out of energy on my newly healed foot.

My migraine only got worse. My head pulsed with every beat of my heart and the rain didn't help either. The only relief was in the vanishing light as dusk came.

Alastor got impatient again and picked me up, not caring for my protests—which were quickly silenced when I realized how comfortable I was laying my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes. My migraine remained but dimmed with the scent of wet earth and smokey wood filling my nose.

It felt like he was carrying me through the woods back to the bunker. It felt like the city was nothing more than a bad dream and that he had decided to stay with me in the little oasis.

My illusion was interrupted by the sound of the tower door creaking open. He closed the door with his foot and started up the stairs, still carrying me.

"Am I heavy?" I asked in my haze of a migraine.

"You are quite short, my dear."

"That didn't answer my question."

"No." He held me tighter. "You are not."

My heart skipped a beat when carried me into his room instead of going to the attic. I saw my usual night clothes—which I had folded and put on my bed—were now sitting folded at the foot of his bed.

"I need to take care of something," he told me as he placed me on the edge of the bed. "So I will join you when I am done." He lightly touched the back of his finger to my cheek and smiled simply, sweetly, and softly down at me. "I won't be long."

His heavy footsteps descended the stairs, leaving me staring at the wall, trying to think past my migraine.

When I found that I couldn't, I changed into my night clothes and slipped under his red covers. The rain picked up outside and tapped on the stone wall and boarded up windows.

When had I gotten comfortable being in Alastor's bed?

The thought made my heart skip a beat.

I laid on my stomach and positioned my foot carefully so as not to tweak it or put unnecessary pressure on it. I then took a long, deep breath of his scent engrained into the sheets—smoke and spices and all. Classic.

I dozed off for who knows how long until the bed shifted, Alastor climbing in beside me. His arm found my waist and pulled me close, allowing him to place a light kiss on my forehead.

I draped my arm over his side and savored the feeling of his soft night clothes and equally soft fur against my cheek.

He placed another kiss on my cheek. Then on my nose.

I smiled and giggled sleepily. Al was being sweet again.

Then he kissed me. It wasn't hot or intense. It was kind and gentle and with the utmost care in the world. It was almost shocking coming from him, the way he gently kissed me again.

He was warm. And it was seeping into my damp, cold bones from all points of contact. I wanted to keep kissing him—not in a hurried and intense way, but slow, thoughtful, and deliberate.

But sleep and my migraine had a different plan.

The last thing I remember was Alastor lying on his back and threading his fingers through my hair.

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Author’s Note:

When I say I fought to get this chapter out…I mean it.

Anyways, we could all use a little more sappy don’t you think? This is the last filler chapter before the end of Act 2. Enjoy the sweet moments while you can :)

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Taglist:

@drevisrose @until-thedaysof-spring @torustesseract @sirens-and-moonflowers @papas-ghoulette @eris-norwega

#archivists oath #demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #rosie hazbin hotel #vox the tv demon #carmilla carmine

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sparrowrye · 25 days ago

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Archivist’s Oath - new chapter

check back tomorrow 9:00am EST 😉

#demi demon #archivists oath

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sparrowrye · 1 month ago

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Demi Demon World Building

I should’ve written the history of my world in one of the chapters, like having Alastor explain it, but I didn’t want to info-dump. However, if you’re at all interested in the world (and some of the plot), then please keep reading. I do love info-dumping...

The storyline takes place hundreds of years into the future.

Back in the 2020s, a group of ghost hunters messed with the spirit realm and accidentally created a portal to allow Demons to cross into the world (inspiration from Sam and Colby). Spirits still exist, but Demons have their own physical bodies.

It wasn’t really a known event, though. It was a quiet thing that accidentally happened. Demons wanted to blend in where they could or, at the very least, hide. It’s much easier to hide on Earth than it is to hide in a small ring in Hell.

Anyways, years pass and Demons start having kids with normal humans, blending magic with normal people. Again, no one paid attention until people started having strange magic abilities and weird attributes (like horns or tails).

These Demon Hybrids (especially children) were hunted down to be studied—and we know how terrible it is to be on the other side of human curiosity. However, this was also around the time when World War III happened.

Cities and countries were destroyed and the all the horrible things you can imagine that happens in an apocalypse. My timeline skips way ahead of this apocalypse.

Mother Nature has taken over what is rightfully hers. People have rebuilt communities in these old abandoned structures and cities but still live primarily off the land. Vox managed to bring back electricity and everything started to look like a futuristic 1800s landscape.

Now, something I thought was interesting that no one pointed out, is that Alastor is WAY older than the reader. He was born in the 1900s, died in the 1930s, and arrived back on Earth in about 2087.

He’s ancient.

And still a prideful ass

And he’s been collecting books and records, piecing things together and trying to lay claim/influence in both realms. But he didn’t account for how BIG Earth is, which is why he worked hard on keeping his radio influence and appearance on Earth, while still terrorizing those in Hell.

Heaven never intervened big time until my timeline. God is the only one who has direct influence/say on the way of the world, but He sends his Angels to specific humans when He needs something specific done. Hence the whole we have free will.

Angels have always had access to Earth, but they’ve been under strict orders to remain out of sight unless specifically ordered to appear before a certain human. Such as Blackwater...

Because he was a very capable human who could take down the Hartfelts (and had a reason to), Heaven decided he just needed a little Angelic help.

Heaven was upset that the reader, a Demon/Angel hybrid, existed in the first place. Reader is evidence that an Angel went against orders to remain unseen on Earth and went even further and had a child. It caused an uproar in Heaven and the father was tortured, banned, practically striped of his powers, and memory wiped clean (almost). The Angels intervened and captured the mother and put her into the rings where she would most likely die, along with the baby.

Spoilers! The baby survived.

Alastor was never Heaven’s target, he was only Blackwater’s. Sure he made Heaven a little concerned because of how much power he was starting to build (just like any other Overlord), but their main concern was the Reader. And yes, they forced Zestial to pull Alastor from the realms and keep him away for 8 years.

Now, since the Reader lived—even though they weren’t supposed to—and since they’re not human, they are essentially immortal like Alastor and other Demons. Heaven didn’t like this because she could have more children like her with Angelic powers and ruin the balance of things.

She’s the reason they sent Blackwater after her and Alastor.

She’s the reason Adam was sent after her as divine intervention.

She’s the reason for the nasty storms that hit the haven all the time.

She’s the reason for the battle between Heaven and Hell.

And here’s something that might’ve been too subtle to pick up on…

Alastor was seen as weaker than Reader. The reason Heaven intervened and helped Blackwater capture his enemy (Alastor) was because to Heaven, Alastor was an easier shark to kill. Kill Alastor and you kill Reader. Heaven thought Reader was well in tune with their angelic abilities, even though we’re proven otherwise when Adam attacks her. They put Reader on a pedestal because of her growing up in a fighting ring and because she was half Angel half Demon - a being of strong power with the mentality of Demon. Deadly combo.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel

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sparrowrye · 1 month ago

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sparrowrye · 1 month ago

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Well said, well said 👏

a feel like the new generation of fanfic readers NEED to understand that clicking on a fic (interaction) does nothing. ao3 has no algorithm. your private discord discussions of fic do not reach the authors. if you do not actively engage with writers they will stop posting. this isn’t social media this is community.

#demi demon #fanfic authors #fanfiction #ao3

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sparrowrye · 1 month ago

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sparrowrye · 2 months ago

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The Archivist's Oath || Alastor x Reader, Chapter 27: delusional from the pain

Summary: Alastor finds an Archivist who can translate Old World texts. Equally bound to their duty, you and Alastor traverse the tricky landscape of love and commitment…but to whom and to what?

Chapter Synopsis: Our very first meeting with ALL the lords and ladies of Pentagram City. And Alastor's injuries provide a sweet moment

Please be warned...this is not as well edited as I would like, but I've been working 9:00am to 12:30am shifts for the past 6 days. So this is the best I can do ;)

Master List

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I woke slowly, pulled out of my sleep-coma by gentle caresses on my shoulder. They move to my hair and I nearly fell back asleep if it wasn't for a deep voice calling for me from the distance.

I became faintly away of my body placement—arm draped over a chest, head resting on a soft pillow, cheek touching soft fur, and one leg propped against more fur. A gentle kiss to my forehead reminded me that it was Al.

Eyes still closed, I stretch out the soreness in my limbs, then drifted off again.

"Darling," Al called softly.

I groaned and inched closer so I could bury my face in the crook of his neck. Tough smoke still clung to his fur, but his usual scent of spice and leather lingered just underneath. I could feel the beat of his heart against my cheek.

He lightly ran his fingers through my hair again and moved it all aside to expose my neck, before gently but firmly rubbing his palm along my skin. It loosened the surprisingly tense muscles in my neck and had absurd success in helping me wake further.

"Leave me alone," I mumbled into his neck. I ran my hand over his chest, threading his fur through my fingers and marveling at the comfort I was in while doing it. In any other situation, I would never have the confidence to do it. But here, half asleep, I did it anyways.

"We need to get up, darling." He placed a kiss on the top of my head.

I hooked my foot around his leg defiantly, careful not to touch any of his blisters. "Why?"

"The storm is thin today. And Lucifer has called on all the Lords and Ladies to discuss the next plan of action." He chuckled at my attempt to bury myself further under the sheets. "I thought you were a morning person," he teased, brushing his fingers delicately along my forehead.

"I am..." I blinked one eye open to see a stupid smirk on his face. I reached up and carefully pushed his injured face away. "But you're usually not a morning person."

He wrapped his red claws around my wrist and kissed the inside of it.

That woke me up the rest of the way. His ruby-colored eyes twinkled knowingly at me as he placed another kiss. Then another on my forearm. Then near the bend of my elbow—

I pulled my hand away and turned on my back. He snaked his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer, grimacing when I accidentally brushed the blisters on his side. I traced my finger around the bandages on his arm.

He felt so warm, so comforting, and so normal.

My heart began to climb as my mind registered the reality of the situation. I tried not to tense.

"When will you be back?" I asked.

"You're coming with me."

"I am?" I tried to look up at him but remembered his injuries.

"Indeed." He opened his hand and let me trace the lines on his palm. "I would have insisted if Lucifer hadn't already requested your attendance."

"Why me?"

He gently poked my forehead. "Your way of thinking, my darling. It's unique."

I batted his finger away and dropped my hands over my stomach. "I'm useful," I stated plainly. "Because I have historical texts."

He shrugged, still smiling. "Precisely why you're unique. You operate from dusty pages and ancient texts. Everyone else operates on personal experience."

That was...an interesting way of saying that.

I wanted to settle further into the warmth, comfort, and tranquility that had been bestowed on us, but Alastor reminded me that the storm wouldn't remain thin for much longer. Against my will, I forced myself out of his warm bed.

Once the two of us had dressed appropriately–Alastor having an exact replica of his usual red suit that had been burned in the fray–and his hair lengthened with a temporary spell to cover the singed holes, we made our way through the empty ravine streets. It was still raining, but lightly enough that we could see where we were going.

Alastor gently took my hand and placed it on the bend of his elbow while his staff melded into an umbrella. My cheeks heated at the touch, trying not to make a big deal out of it.

My steps were light but deliberate on account of his limping. His back was stiff and rigid with pain, and he hid his discomfort behind a tight smile.

I rubbed the material of his sleeve between my fingers.

We eventually reached Lucifer's castle and took the front stairs even slower. My concern lingered on my lips and stayed there as he pushed through the pain and past the men standing guard at the front doors. Voicing my concern would achieve nothing, as this meeting was needed and he would probably take it as an insult to his ego if I said I was worried about his ability to sit upright in a chair.

I let go of his arm before we entered the meeting room. Every single head turned towards us. I felt my heart skip a beat and stuttered to a halt. I would have stayed there frozen in place if not for the hand on my back that pushed me forward. The Lords' and Ladies' heads followed us as we walked down the length of the table to the last two remaining chairs.

Lucifer sat at the head of the table, unlike during the conversations with Vaggie and Lady Carmilla. Charlie sat directly beside him with Lady Carmilla adjacent to them, followed by Vox, then the Entertainment co-leaders. Rosie, two seats down from Lucifer, greeted me with her charming smile as we passed. Alastor gestured to the chair beside her while he took the remaining one closest to Lucifer.

I avoided looking at anyone across the table aside from Lady Carmilla.

"We filled them in on what happened," Lucifer told us, referring to Rosie, Velvette, and Valentino, who had been unaware of the proceedings before the White Angel attack. "Now we need to decide what to do next."

"We finish what we started," Lady Velvette quickly spat, clearly riled up. "We can build another fucking windmill." I detected a faint, tangy, and flowery scent and immediately recalled my allergic reaction to her toxic perfume. I leaned back in my chair.

"And risk more lives?" Lady Carmilla challenged, leaning forward to look past Vox. I didn't need to look at the Tech Lord to know he was staring at me. And Alastor at him.

I chanced a look at Valentino, feeling my heart race unnaturally as I prepared myself, but found him staring down at his lap. He was fiddling with a handheld gun, clearly a new remake based on the bright copper engraving that glinted in the light. He glanced uncertainly—angrily—in Alastor's direction.

"So we build it fast enough," Velvette snapped. "Or down in the city instead of on the surface for them to see."

"We don't know what weapon they used," Lady Carmilla said, trying to quell her growing impatience with the woman. "For all we know they could destroy the windmill just as easily and kill even more lives and destabilize the structure of our walls."

I glanced at Lucifer. Not too long ago we had a brief conversation about allowing me to grow a forest in the center of the city, but it hadn't gone further than that. Based on how well things were going in the Agriculture District, I wanted to push for the idea to become a reality.

"Well what's your great plan, then?" Velvette threw back at the military leader. "Another failed assault on their camp?"

"Vox's weapon is the only thing strong enough to deal some real damage on that compound," Lady Carmilla said evenly. She looked at the man beside her. "It is still operable, right?"

Vox scoffed, though lacking all of his usual smugness. He seemed exhausted and the bandages were obvious under his dark jacket, especially around his neck. "Of course it is. It's underground."

"So we need a lot of power to actually operate it?" Velvette clarified.

"Yes."

Velvette's eyes found me and I mentally braced, knowing exactly what she was going to say next.

"I'm sure our fossil ancestors have some wicked weapons they used back in their day."

"I won't translate a weapon for you," I said firmly, arms crossed.

"You know, Archivist, saving us means saving your own life, too." Velvette dragged her eyes down my chest.

"I would rather sacrifice myself to preserve–"

"Ugh," she groaned, leaning back into her chair, "we get it! You'd rather be tortured to death than give up your stupid archive." She deliberately leaned forward with a smug look on her face. "I thought Archivists were supposed to save people."

"W-We do," I said. "But I'm not going to translate something that could kill them."

"More people will die because of it, you know." She leaned back and propped one leg up on the chair, arm draped over her knee. "So many people in one spot? One bomb from the White Angels and you've killed hundreds of our people."

Vox looked over at her. "The White Angels are to blame here."

"Vox is right." Lucifer said and rested his arms on the table. "And I will not allow us to bring those sick weapons back. We'll find another way."

I observed Lucifer for a moment. How much did he know about Old Humanity? He spoke like he had extensive knowledge about its history. Or at the very least about the weapons our ancient ancestors had used. I pushed it to the back of my mind to ask about it later.

Vox spoke up again. "We have one weapon and that's good enough. We just need enough power." We met eyes and I glanced away to look at Rosie. She patted my leg gently under the table.

Alastor spoke next. "I believe our first priority should be uncovering the mole hiding in your district." He pointedly looked at Vox.

Vox crossed his arms but hissed when he brushed a hidden blister. "I can't read the radio like you can and my district is filled with new arrivals who hate me. I don't even know where to begin looking."

I had learned that new arrivals from recently captured communities were given to Vox as labor workers. It wasn't until they had spent months, even years, breaking their backs that they were able to climb a metaphorical ladder and be integrated into Pentagram's society.

According to Alastor, it was to establish authority and claw out any memories of freedom from their old life. They would remember only the hardship of working in the mines and Pentagram's good graces for allowing them into society.

"Who knew about the windmill?" Lady Carmilla prompted.

"All of my workers?" Vox shrugged with his hands. "I had as many workers and laborers working on the windmill as I could get." Laborers was another way of saying new arrivals to help differentiate between Vox's district members and workers, and the imprisoned arrivals.

"So you have a mole in your district and not enough power for the canon," Velvette surmised. "Why do we even need that big canon? Can't we just toss one of our own bombs at their comms tower?"

"We can't get close enough without being detected first," Lady Carmilla explained, having regained a handful of patience. "And they can easily rebuild that tower in between storms. If we attack, it needs to be big enough to last us the rest of Storm Season."

An idea was forming in my mind. My eyes wouldn't keep still and I tapped my fingers on my leg, trying to figure out how to voice my idea. Was it even a good idea?

"What if we made a decoy?" Valeninto tossed out. My mind came to a screeching halt at the sound of his voice. "Make them look in one way while we built the real deal somewhere else?"

My hands felt cold; cold as if they were touching the stone floor of that dark cell while he held me down and clipped my footclaws. My cheeks felt hot where his breath had touched me. My arms were stiff where he pinned me down.

Do you think he's coming for you? The most feared Radio Demon. Your savior.

You let Vox touch you. Let him taste you.

Do you think Alastor will be grateful?

"You look like there's something on your mind." Vox's voice was like a cold chill down my spine, but it dragged me back to reality and I looked up from my lap. "Did you have an idea or something?"

His tone brought back the quiet, kind conversations we had shared before everything went so horribly dark. Was he doing that on purpose? Was he trying to get on my or Alastor's good side? Had Vox seen me on the verge of panicking? Was I that obvious?

"I-I just...it was just a thought. Nothing robust."

"Can't be any worse than anything else we've brought up."

I rubbed my arm when I felt the static of Alastor's magic. "I just thought...why one big windmill? Why not a hundred of them in different places around the city?"

No one had been talking when I voiced my thoughts, yet the room had somehow gone even quieter.

"There's still a lot of different wind tunnels even with some of the trees I've planted. We could find those and build smaller windmills. I'm not sure that's even possible..." I trailed off, still rubbing my arm. I glanced up at Alastor but he slowly looked at Vox, awaiting an answer.

Vox just stared at me.

"Can it be done?" Lucifer pressed.

Vox cleared his throat. "Y-Yeah. It probably could." He shifted in his seat and grimaced when he rubbed a blister on his back. "We still have all the materials from the normal windmills we put up after Storm Season. I could probably build a few more if I pushed my people."

"Then do it," Lucifer ordered gently. He glanced briefly at Valentino, then at Alastor. "Once we have those windmills up, we'll build a fake windmill as a diversion to distract them from the canon. We'll probably need illusion magic."

"Easy as pie," Alastor replied cheerfully, and created an illusionary pie in the middle of the table.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and turned to Vox again. "Let me or Carmilla know if you need additional resources or manpower."

"Will do," Vox nodded.

Meeting adjourned, everyone stood to leave. Charlie snuck around the edge of the wall to tell me about the few conversations she's had with Vaggie, the White Angel prisoner. Apparently they've been trying to talk with their limited Spanish knowledge and have had decent success in casual conversations. It made me feel like I was falling behind.

We spoke for a while longer until Alastor urged us to leave before the storm worsened. We left Lucifer's castle the same way we had arrived, only this time it was harder to see through the rain. The wind had picked up, too, drenching us before we were even halfway home.

I held onto Alastor's arm and shielded my face with my other hand. We hurried through the front door as a strike of lightning blazed over the ravine. Alastor's magic sealed the door before a clap of thunder shook the walls. We stood frozen, dripping on the carpet, and staring at the floor.

A small, barely audible whine reached my ears. I glanced up and saw the twisted, uncomfortable look on his face. He was in a lot of pain. It had only been three days since the attack and having soaked bandages would do more damage than healing.

He was as stiff as a rock, unable to move. Was he shaking?

I slowly reached over and touched his hand. He was cold. Not warm like usual.

"Come on, Al." I lightly pulled on his hand and guided him to the staircase. "Let's get you knew bandages."

He left his cane against the wall and gripped the railing with a suffocating grip, but the one in my hand was careful not to squeeze too tight. He climbed the stairs like he had glue on the bottom of his shoes. He winced the whole way.

"You're getting water everywhere!" Niffty cried from the top of the stairs, arms crossed and a pout on her face.

"It's okay, Niffty," I told her, giving her half my attention while I continued to pull Al up the stairs. "I'll take care of it later. Can you boil a pot of water and bring it to the bathroom?"

"What for?" Al wheezed, looking up at me through his singed hair. His illusion spell had worn off.

"To treat your blisters before I put new bandages on. Niffty--"

"On it!" Niffty zipped between our legs and into the kitchen.

Alastor and I finally made it to the top of the stairs and down the hall. His ears were flat against his head as he used my shoulder and the wall to keep himself up. I was getting all kinds of flashbacks to the bunker when I first saved him.

That one single act had turned my life around.

I pulled the stool out and eased him down. He was out of breath and horribly pale. I expected him to vomit from all the pain he was enduring, but somehow he didn't.

I gently pulled off his heavy, water-soaked coat then started on the buttons of his undershirt. My fingers slipped on the wet buttons and I quite literally peeled the fabric off his torso. He leaned back against the side of the tub, exhausted.

Lightly, I reached out and touched my palms to his cheeks. He blinked up at me...then smiled.

"You're delusional from the pain," I teased.

"I must be dead," he said through a heavy breath, "because there's an angel standing over me."

I rolled my eyes.

With many awkward glances and weird, strenuous silence, we managed to get his pants off and drape a towel over his lap. It wasn't until I was cutting and unwrapping the bandages that my cheeks had cooled to their normal temperature.

"Feels familiar," he mumbled.

"Maybe you should stop getting hurt so often."

"It's been years since I was hurt this bad." He took a few deep breaths. "Then you walked into my life."

"Then I saved your life," I corrected. I peeled off soaked gauze and tossed it in a pile behind me. "And you quite literally fell into mine."

"I suppose you could say I fell for you."

I moved to his other side and peeled off more bandages. "Now I know you're really in a lot of pain. You've been making stupid jokes all day."

"On the contrary..." He lifted his arms so I could remove a bandage wrapped around his stomach. "I'm merely in a delightful mood."

"Oh?" I said absentmindedly. "Why's that?"

His arm came to gently rest on my back, hand hooked perfectly on my shoulder, and I looked up. Smiling, he said, "Because I started my day with you."

I blinked at him, unsure how to respond. Was he being genuine? It sounded like it.

My fingers started to go cold again. I turned back to the task at hand and finished unwrapping the drenched bandages, painfully aware of his hand still resting on my back. I waited for him to make a comment about how loud my heart was beating, but he stayed quiet.

I moved to the bandage on his shoulder, ignoring his intense stare. He was doing it on purpose to get me to look at him. I could feel his breath on my shaking hands, grateful that he wasn't able to notice.

"You're shaking."

Damn.

"I'm not," I replied. My attempt at nonchalance came out more flat and unemotional. I carefully pulled off the bits of fur stuck to the bandage so it wouldn't hurt him.

He put his hand over mine to stop me. I forced myself to look up and meet his gaze, feeling my lungs constrict as I did. Al stared back at me, intense but gentle.

"Do I make you nervous?"

"No." I said too quickly, then cleared my throat. "N-No, you don't."

He tilted his head to the side a little. "I don't mean in that sense."

I tried to pull my hand away but he pressed down harder so I couldn't. I looked anywhere but him. "What do you mean?"

"Allow me clarify," he said kindly. "Do you fear me in this moment?"

"No."

"Are you nervous in this moment?"

"N...no."

"It's like a dagger to my heart when you lie to me," he jibed. I instinctually made a face at him and he successfully caught my chin with his other hand. I opened my mouth to make a retort but he spoke first, "You make me nervous."

My words fell short.

That wasn't possible. Nothing ever made the Radio Demon nervous. Nothing ever made egotistical Alastor nervous. Nothing ever made eloquent Al nervous.

And certainly not because of me.

His thumb rubbed my chin where he held it. His other hand slid up the length of my back and down again. He felt warm, leaving hot trails along my skin despite the shirt in between.

"A-Al...I'm--"

He pulled on my chin and pressed a hot kiss to my lips. Our eyes fluttered shut as his hand felt for the space behind my ear. His other arm looped around my waist and pulled me against his side, nearly pushing off the towel in his lap.

He kept pulling and pulling, trying to get me closer, as our lips burned and pressed against each other. I leaned my arm against the side of the tub so I wouldn't hurt him, boxing us in. We breathed the same air in between each kiss and he acted as if his entire front side wasn't covered in blisters, still trying to pull me ever closer.

His tongue reached into my mouth and I felt warm all over. Our teeth hit as I slipped my tongue over--

"I have the hot water!" Niffty called from the other side of the door.

I immediately pulled away but Al gripped me tightly, partly failing to keep me close. I glanced at the doorway, expecting Niffty to slip through without waiting for a response. I looked back at Al.

His chest heaved and he glared up at me through his disheveled, ruined hair. "Once I've healed, you'll never be able to pull away."

He unstuck his hands from my neck and I hurried to the door, heart stuck in my throat, to take the pot from Niffty. I then tended to Al's injuries in silence from then on, grateful for the distance his long legs provided as I wrapped new bandages on them.

I braced for something when I re-bandaged his arms and torso, but he did nothing other than stare at me again in complete silence.

My lips still burned.

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Author's Note:

We're getting closer to the end of Act 2...I sure hope all this sweetness can stay around for a little longer <3

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Taglist:

@drevisrose @until-thedaysof-spring @torustesseract @sirens-and-moonflowers @papas-ghoulette @eris-norwega

#archivists oath #demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox the tv demon #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #carmilla carmine #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin rosie #rosie hazbin hotel

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