#┊❛au.2❜┊ sold my soul to the devil for fame | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tothedarkdarkseas · 3 years ago

Note

The way Vampire AU has taken off has really warmed my heart! So many great thoughts all round. I sent you some elaborations on my own personal headcanons for it as a submission, just for the fun of it. Enjoy!

Hi! I got your submission last night and read over it-- it's very elaborate, you've clearly put a lot of thought into fleshing this AU out and it sounds like a ton of fun. I know you mentioned at the end that you had no intentions of writing it because you're busy with other fandom projects, but I'm sure there are many who'd be interested in reading your ideas if you ever decided to make a sideblog for it. I'll post your submission for others to read below a cut here so that the post won't be too long on the dashboard, and I'll reply to some of the specifics underneath!

Yes! I have so many more thoughts on a vampire AU, I figured it would be easier to put them in a submission. Hope you don't mind.

The concept is just so fascinating to me, because so much of it lines up perfectly with the character dynamics we're given in the canon, and what doesn't has the potential to expand on and explore those dynamics in a really interesting way.

I agree 100 percent about the tone it would have to be written in. An actual brooding, dark prince Murdoc type of thing wouldn't work for me. (Murdoc would try to play up that persona, but in reality, he'd be far from it.) In my mind, the tone would be half What We Do In The Shadows and half Being Human UK. Four misfits living in a mouldering mansion somewhere, getting on each other's tits - but deep down they've got each other's backs. There's a bond, even if they can't quite explain what it is.

In my mind the bloodlust would function as an addiction. Murdoc is no Mother Theresa but he's not comfortable with indiscriminate murder either. (Guilt and self-loathing is not a good combination in Murdoc.) Knowing there is no in between for vampires - you can't have a sip here and there, it's abstinence or nightly slaughter - he stays teetotal from blood and tries to channel his desires into other addictions instead. Any and every addiction, really. Drugs, booze, sex, theft, you name it. Which is how he comes to be doing donuts in a stolen car in a Tesco car park, at the exact same time Stuart Pot is making a midnight run for condoms and Tango.

I picture Murdoc's turning of Stu would be this confusing moment that even he can't fully explain, so he's always switching his story about it. One day he'll say he didn't want to deal with the police, another day it'll be vampire enforcers he was afraid of - "total killjoys, they'll bung you in a blood-filled coffin for a hundred years over the TINIEST infraction". Other days he comes close to admitting he felt guilty, that he flipped out over the idea of killing someone after all, when he's dedicating all his energy to avoiding doing just that. Sometimes he just calls it a moment of madness.

But in every vampire movie, there's that moment. The moment where the newly-turned vamp rises from the grave as this beautiful unearthly creature of the night, and I mean . . . this absolutely would be Murdoc's experience of it. He's almost convinced himself there aren't real vampires like that, that it's all Hollywood bollocks, and then Stu rises up in front of him like some black-eyed, blue-haired god, and the part of Murdoc that isn't utterly gobsmacked by it can't help resenting the little sod for making it look so easy. Murdoc likes to take the piss out of him and claim he's like one of those Lost Boys California pretty boy vampires, but he's jealous really.

I imagine Murdoc would be similarly mercurial about how he was turned. There's always some hyperbolic story about it, designed to paint Murdoc in the best light. Sometimes he was the premier occultist of his day. Sometimes he sold his soul to the devil for immortality. Sometimes he was turned by a beautiful vampire seductress, who was bitter he broke her heart. It's all bollocks. The truth is definitely something less glamorous, and I would imagine actually much sadder as well? I'm not sure what, but I'm picturing something like Murdoc's father being some small-time occultist who sold his son to vampires, or maybe Murdoc was working some menial job and was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he was turned by some vampire who would have drunk him dry, if Murdoc hadn't fought him off. Or maybe it's a bit of mystery, like the mystery of his mother in canon. Someone did this to Murdoc, someone made him what he is, but he has no memory of it. And all the different stories are actually partly a coping mechanism for that, as he tries on different explanations for size. (It would also explain why he would refuse to abandon Stu after turning him. Because navigating this new reality alone is something he wouldn't wish on anyone, even some dumb kid.)

I think the supernatural element would also be a great way to expand on and deepen Murdoc's relationships with Russell and Noodle. In supernatural fiction there are always two types of beings that hate each other. Usually vampires and werewolves, but often vampires and ghosts too. As, obviously, vamps can't drain ghosts, and they spend their lives running from the guilt of all the people they've killed. Ghosts are a constant reminder of that - and of the afterlife they both fear, and resent that they were denied. I can picture Russell maybe helping Murdoc exorcise the ghost of Hannibal or Jacob, and that's how they meet. (And why he has more patience with Murdoc than most. He's seen him at his most vulnerable.) Noodle would be great as a vampire hunter too. Her dynamic with Murdoc would be fraught as on the one hand, she respects Russell and venerates him for his connection to the spirit world, so to a certain extent anything he says she'll try to respect. And Murdoc is supposedly reformed, and she has moments where she even almost quite likes him. But her instinct is not to trust him. Her instinct is to put him down, and they both know it. As much as he battles his bloodlust around her, she battles her urge to put a stake through his heart, Van Helsing style.

Finding out he turned someone would be a MAJOR ruck in their relationship. But I think Murdoc would use 2-D to convince her and Russell to stick around - because he turned him, but it wasn't like he was chowing down on the lad, it was practically an act of charity, really. Practically an act of atonement. And if they both leave now, Stu is only left with Mr Bad Influence Murdoc Niccals, to teach him how to be a vampire, and restrain his urges and whatnot. And Murdoc has never been much good at all that AA, 12 step stuff, so unless they WANT poor sweet Stuart Pot to wind up spending eternity as some kind of crackhead . . . it would be a kindness to him, really, to stick around.

I could not agree more about how Murdoc turning Stu would mirror their Phase Two dynamic, with Stu literally having become "the thing Murdoc turned him into", and resenting that. But also, having moments of perverse gratitude for it? Stu is vain, and vampire Stu would be gorgeous, which I reckon he'd love. And though I think he'd hate that his normal life of footy with the boys and Sunday dinner at his mum's was over, I can also imagine him feeling this whole new world has opened up in front of him, something most people aren't special enough to gain entry to. And he likes that.

I can even see the fame thing and the band happening. Music would be a great, healthier way to channel the urges he can't act on. And I can see Murdoc agreeing. Admitting that he's been playing in bands for years, because it's actually a great cover for a vampire lifestyle. Being nocturnal is practically a prerequisite, when you're a rock star, and you can get away with looking all kinds of weird when you're in a band, because people just chalk it up to the aesthetic. Still, until he met 2-D, none of the bands he'd been in were actually any GOOD. 2-D reawakens his love of music, the same way he is the turning point for Murdoc's career in the canon.

Vampirism would also be a great way to explore Stuart's flaws. His vanity is an obvious one, but I can also see him avoiding his family and not letting them know why he'd disappeared for years. Just too self-absorbed to appreciate the harm it's caused. I can also see the pill problem happening as he imitates Murdoc's habit of abusing substances to try and blunt his bloodlust. I can imagine him saying stupid stuff like "you never even took me to the hospital!" and convincing himself he experiences phantom headaches, because he doesn't want to admit he's becoming just like Murdoc, actually. He tells himself the pills are medicine and he really needs them, and it's not the same at all.

And I can see him getting too carried away with his lusts, and having several near misses or disastrous incidents where he brings girls home and loses control of himself. Where Murdoc jumps in and saves it from getting too out of hand, but at the same time exposes how he's basically been stalking Stu "for your own protection", with a side of decidedly voyeuristic intentions. Stu has . . . strong (and somewhat confused) feelings about this.

I think Murdoc would be the same trouble magnet in the vampire underworld that he was in the criminal one. Feelings about Murdoc range from "this unwashed oik should NEVER have been allowed to become one of us" to "I WILL STAKE MURDOC FAUST NICCALS IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO". Murdoc would definitely continue his streak of petty crime any time he entered the hallowed halls of the vampire hoi poloi. He'd be pilfering left and right. And I can't imagine he'd ever kowtow to the aristocracy, which, in a subculture as obsessed with class as vampires . . . yeah, he's insolent, to say the least. And they hate it. They just hate Murdoc, generally. I imagine 2-D might consider crossing over to the dark side to join them, to spite Murdoc, before eventually he realizes that - amazing as it sounds - even Murdoc has higher moral standards than these people. Maybe he's better off with the devil he knows.

I love what you said about Murdoc and Stuart being hung by the same rope, for all eternity. That's exactly the dynamic I think a vampire AU would bring about. I also think Murdoc being Stu's vampire sire would be interesting in the romantic sense, as part of them would always second guess if that was the reason for the bond they feel. Are they developing feelings, or is all of this just the blood bond? I can imagine Stuart hating his own inability to judge why he feels so drawn to Murdoc, and I can see Murdoc trying to convince himself any possessiveness or pride or protectiveness he feels over Stu is just what all vampires feel when they turn someone. (Even though it's not.) It would be a potent brew.

Anyway, this was long but I will never have the time to actually write this (I have five WIPs in other fandoms already) so I thought I'd let it out somehow. Thanks for giving me the space to talk this over!

(If anyone wants to run with this and make something of it, by the way, have at it! Just credit me somewhere for the idea. That'd be good.)

This was quite a ride! I love the idea of Stuart Pot's mortal life ending when he's mowed down in a Tesco car park buying condoms and Tango. It's cruel to say it's what he deserves and frankly the complete antithesis of the whole conflict I'm begging for, but... it's what he deserves. I'm also very intrigued by the angle of treating bloodlust as an addiction: it could theoretically be overcome, but practically speaking, rarely is. This makes it easy to see how Murdoc spins off into such a cartoonishly extreme life of debauchery. I love the bit about Murdoc changing his story of what happened, both the night he hit Stuart and his own origin-- the difference being that Stu does know what happened to him, whether he ever chooses to believe Murdoc's ever-shifting justifications for it or not, but no one can ever really know where Murdoc came from except himself. I definitely agree that the truth has to be less glamorous, less thrilling, less worthy of tales and legends. I like Stuart and Murdoc best when they are not men born into greatness nor men born for greatness, not inherently, and I love the private grappling with the belief that they are special and the fear that they probably aren't. Your explanation of the foil-like dynamic between vampires and spirits/ghosts is interesting, I don't know if that's an established piece of vampire lore or if that's your own invention, but I think it's a really solid one. I don't know if I've truly seen those two creatures explored in a world together with such a direct emphasis on that ghoulish ecosystem, so to speak.

And, well, I'm quite predictable but I'm ready to invest $5k in a full novel exploring Stu's estrangement from his family and friends following the transformation, the psychological toll it takes to choose-- though he may feel he has no other choice at all-- to abandon those relationships, how his own descent may mirror Murdoc's as he shelters himself in chalk-tablet excess and a vibrant, at times frightful carnal life to distract himself from the guilt. I'm dying to see how he could approach mending those fences again after years away. It isn't something one sweeps under the rug, isn't something that he can make amends for. This sort of thing shatters a family, and in my imagining of Rachel and David, it certainly shattered his. This kind of permanently-marred family drama really captivates me and is something I don't think we should shy away from in stories about addiction, and it would be fascinating to explore the human element of that against the metaphorical monstrous one.

I love what you mentioned about the "blood bond" and how it factors into the pull between them they're too unsettled to really name. This adds an extra layer of confusion, as you say, and better justifies why they find themselves orbiting each other, pretending there's a blood-coloured chain tethering them and ignoring the heavy weighted padlock in the middle that pulls them down, down, down. I've spoken a lot on this blog about why Stu is participatory in the relationship when he dislikes Murdoc in such a profound way, and while I absolutely never tire of the messy, bleak human weakness and ego of that, it would be quite special to explore that with something that almost feels like an excuse for Stu, a macabre justification entirely out of his hands; it gives him permission to be part of this broken spiral and absolves him of the responsibility of acknowledging his choice. I'd like to think he still lives with it, as Murdoc does too, but they may appreciate the safety of the smokescreen as much as they struggle to see through it.

Thanks for sending me your ideas, I hope other readers will enjoy seeing your elaborations, and if you're having fun thinking about these two goons I'd encourage you to consider making a blog. Sometimes you get lucky and draw in people who are incredibly kind!

(Lastly, unrelated fun fact about vampirism in my life: my first job was playing a vampire at a haunted amusement park. Our "Scare Zone" was designed as a junkyard taken over by a vampire gang, and I was the "queen" with a throne made of old tires. It was... a fun job and also not a fun job, haha.)

#anon au #thank you!

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river--glass · 4 years ago

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Reylo Fic Recs Long Ass Fics pt 2: Alternate Universe

Someone asked for fic recs 100K or over, so here they are. See Pt. 1 for Canon Verse or Alternate Canon Verse fics. (I haven’t read all of these- my personal comments are in bold)

Equilibrium by AttackoftheDarkCurses & thebuildingsnotonfire. (modern, E, 479K)

When Rey works up the nerve to ask Grand Master Luke Skywalker to train her, she makes friends and finds something deep and wonderful in the martial art known as Taekwondo.

She never thought the choice would change her life.

Alternatively, a (long) story of love, family, and Martial Arts.

The Heartbreak Prince by diasterisms. (Harry Potter, E, WIP)

I swore I would never read Harry Potter AU’s or Works In Progress, but for this fic I broke both rules. This is, pun not intended, so magical in every way. It has me SHOOK and if somehow you haven’t heard of it yet, do yourself a favor and check it out!

In Living Memory by SpaceWaffleHouseTM. (multiple times, E, 221K)

Ben and Rey are rendered immortal after being struck by lightning at the precise same moment, and keep running into one another as the centuries drag on. Waffle’s stories are all amaaaaazing and you need to read ALL of them.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot by SageMcMae. (modern, E, 214k)

MMA fighter, Kylo Ren is suspended from the league and sentenced to community service at his uncle’s martial arts academy. There he meets Rey Niima, a recent graduate with a natural ability and incredible potential.

Soul Searching by OptimisticBeth. (AU, Modern, E, 205K)

A Soulmates AU in which Ben is horrified to find out he’s soulmates with his 16 year old student, ten years his junior. (no underage shenanigans) This fic fucked me up. The world building is so stunning. The story is rich with love and fluff, but oh the angst. Soooo much angst and emotional anguish and two people who are trying their best but just can't communicate for shit. The overall story is so beautiful and worth every heartbreaking moment. A happy ending WILL come!

Satan Wears a Rolex by AquaWolfGirl. (Modern, E, 205K)A Devil Wears Prada AU. Unfinished, but it’s fascinating and it ends well where it is.

Hiraeth by Ferasha. (1990′s, E, 204K)

An absolute angst and pain train of a historical war fic. This is not a comfort fic. It will fuck you up. But if you’re into that, the way they’ve woven canon plot in with the Yugoslav Wars is a masterpiece. It’s dark and gritty and will make you feel things.

Le Fin Du Fin by QueenOfCarrotFlowers @leofgyth. (Victorian, E, 196K) A Crimson Peak AU!!! This writer has never let me down.

A Proposal by Any Other Name by Lucidlucy. (Modern, E, 188) A Leap Year AU.

Salt in the Blood by Hagen. (9th century, E, 169K) Featuring pre-Norman invasion Ireland, selkies, love of the sea, and mythical creatures.

The Great Big No by dietplainlite. (1990′s, E, 165K)

Kylo Ren is third generation rock royalty, a reigning brat prince starting to feel the burn of the fame he reached for with both hands. Rey is an aspiring singer on the verge of a big break, provided her A&R guy still has a job by the time she reaches LA. Their paths have crossed briefly, disappointingly, before. What happens when they collide?

The Trail Bride by SecretReyloTrash. (AU, Wild West, E, 160K)

Rey Niima finds herself in a perilous situation when her husband dies at the start of their journey West. From the few bachelors on the trail in her party; she attaches herself to the best of her options- mysterious Banker Ben Solo. A really interesting, amazing piece. Lots of introspection, and a heart wrenchingly real look into abuse and recovery. I emotionally digested for days.

The Sacred Texts by Eskayrobot & Poaxath. (Modern, E, 159K)

Doing the Unstuck by slipgoingunder. (Modern, E, 158K) A When Harry Met Sally AU.

The Mating Service by AlbaStarGazer. (Modern A/B/O, E, 146K)

If Rey had known how quickly she would find her biological mate and alpha through the world wide mating service, 'Match,' she might have considered signing up years ago.

Unravel Me by UnderTheCancerMoon. (Modern, E, 145K)

Rey and Ben push and pull their way through their 20's, experiencing the love, success, loss, and challenges that make life rich.

Fire Away by Daisyflo. (Modern, E, 141K)

The Witch in the Wood by HarpiaHarpyja @thisgarbagepicker & Inmyownidiom. (Fantasy, E, 138K)

I cannot say enough good things about this fic. It’s serving you knight Kylo and witch Rey and so so many good feelings. Sure there’s some angst and dark magic and some struggles but mostly this is a lovely Ghibli-esque story about two people living in a treehouse and talking to animals and having a really good life! Everything HarpiaHarpyja writes is magic.

Snow Without Winter by neonheartbeat. (Renaissance, E, 138K)

If you’re into serious historical fics (this once features catholicism and Rome in 1492) this is for you.

Lemon-hot Summer by IshaRen & pr3tty_g1rl5. (Modern, E, 130K).

In which Ben is the horniest virgin alive and Rey is bored and looking for something (or someone) to do.

Stranger Than Fiction by daxcat79. (Modern, E, 127K). Grumpy writer Ben and sunshine muse Rey.

Like Red But Not Quite by @kylotrashforever. (Modern, E, 126K) KTF is a god-tier reylo writer and you need to do yourself a favor and go read everything they have ever written.

Dark Water by LinearA. (1950′s, E, 125K)

The North Shore by @strawberrycupcakehuckleberrypie. (Modern, E, 125K)

Notting Hill vibes. Actor Ben meets shop owner Rey, and both their lives are changed instantly. It’s mostly about them both being smitten and starting a really good life together!! Lovely!

Stars In My Pockets (Wear Daisies In My Hair) by LostInQueue. (Modern, E, 125K). A Reylogan fic.

we could plant a house, we could build a tree by like_a_dove. (Modern, E, 124K).

An absolute classic. It’s about growing pains and growing feelings - the transition from childhood into adulthood and all the messy bits in between. God, it will hurt you. Badly. But it’ll be so, so worth it.

go i know not whither and fetch i know not what by voicedimplosives. (1990′s, E, 118K)

Russian Mafia AU!! A truly beautiful piece of work. Great plot,great smut, great Bendemption arc. It’s an emotional rollercoaster that’s fully worth the ride.

Souviens-toi de moi by Maniable. (Modern/historical, E, 117K)

Disconnect by Weatherbug02. (Modern, E, 115K)

Candyleg by 5cents. (1950′s, E, 115K)

The girl was too young, but old enough to have a hustler’s-eye view of her own bleak future. The boys were paying her to do a snow job on a candyleg, but she was beginning to love her work and love Solo, and she decided to stick with him till death did them part...

Baby, It’s Just Biology by polkadotdotdot. (Modern A/B/O, E, 112K)

Only If You Want To by Violetwilson. (Modern, M, 111K)

Personal security expert (and occasional under-the-table hitman) Kylo Ren has a strong feeling about the cute dive bar waitress with the strange bruises and the vicious wit. She's either a victim or the weirdest criminal he's ever met. Possibly both.

Ileenium Manor by WaterlilyRose. (AU, victorian, E, 109K)

Leia’s maid Rey instantly hates Lord Ben when he comes to take over the household. She can’t hate him for too long as he starts to pursue her. If you’re in the mood for a sweet but angsty Lord/Maid fic, this is for you.

Kohelet 3:16 (Call Me A Cab) by LinearA. (Modern, E, 108K)

Ruby Woo Red by HeartSabers. (Modern, E, 107K) Featuring makeup artist Rey and TV star Kylo.

Sixth Year by witheyesclosed. (Harry Potter, M, 107K)

The one where Ravenclaw Rey gets paired with Slytherin Ben in Potions and ohmygod he’s hot now

Lockjaw by bitterbones. (zombie apocalypse, M, 106K)

A Song of Trash and Fire: Ben and Rey Make a Porno by HarpiaHarpyja & sunshineflying. (Modern, E, 106K)

With the help of rich Unca Wanwo, flagrant misuse of Ben's creative writing degree, and copious amounts of coffee, Ben and Rey put together the porno of the century, starring themselves and their friends . . . with interesting results.

The Hypnotist by Pandora_Spocks. (Modern, E, 104K)

From a galaxy far, far away, soulmates Ben and Rey have been reincarnated on Earth to resolve their karma. Dr. Ben Solo is a charismatic hypnotist to whom present day Reychelle Lumen has been referred to for help with her nightmares.

Score by SpaceWaffleHouseTM. (Modern, E, 104K)

Ben's friends convince him to take the Rice Purity Test, but when he and Rey are revealed to have the highest scores of their friends, they quickly form a pact to beat Poe's out by the end of the semester. I loved this! Its so so sweet and funny and all from Ben’s POV. Sweet, sweet pining Ben.

The World Shifts (And I Am Better Here) by lachesisgrimm. (Fantasy, E, 102K)

Once upon a time there was a beggar girl whose parents sold her to a thief, and she was very unhappy.--In which prophecy is used with malicious intent, and the universe exerts itself to correct the problem.

for @scarletvizhlovers

#reylo fic recs #reylo fic rec #reylo fanfiction #rey/ben solo fanfics #reylo

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lokidiabolus · 4 years ago

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The Deal - Chapter 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (web series)

Pairing: Alastor / Angel Dust

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

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

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

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: I think Cajun Alastor is wonderful but for the love of god I can't write that shit, so I apologize in advance. Please pretend it's readable.

Unbetad!

2020, January 16th

“Mamaaa, just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he’s dead~.”

Alastor raised his head from a book he snatched from Anthony’s poor excuse of a collection and narrowed his eyes. Anthony could see him in the corner of his eye, even though the demon excused himself to the living room because Anthony insisted on playing his music and not Alastor’s radio, and he couldn’t help it was Nicki Minaj for the first three songs. He even put it on shuffle too!

I’ve already died once, don’t need to repeat the experience, Alastor rudely scoffed at Anthony’s phone and left the room, even though he was bragging just night before he’d totally help with cooking. He didn’t even touch the knife before storming out rather than listen to anything modern.

“Mama, life had just begun, but now I've gone and thrown it all away. Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry~,” Anthony singsonged with the melody while grating cheese and could literally feel Alastor’s eyes stabbing the back of his head. Probably not a fan of Queen either.

“If I'm not back again this time tomorrow, carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters~,” he twirled around the counter to get plates out of cupboard, “Too late, my time has come, sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time. Goodbye everybody, I've got to go, gotta leave you all behind and face the truth~.”

He made a pirouette and his voice skipped an octave when he almost crashed into Alastor suddenly standing in front of him, right in Anthony’s personal bubble, just looming (which was strange he could, since he was half a head shorter than Anthony, yet it couldn’t be described otherwise). He didn’t say anything, just watched Anthony handle the plates clumsily until the human finally managed to put them on the counter without incident.

“See something you like?” Anthony batted his eyelashes while making a pose with pursed lips and Alastor looked him up and down and smirked:

“Not really.”

“Ouch.”

“What is this song about?” the demon ignored him and nodded towards the phone in the middle of Bohemian Rhapsody, surprisingly sounding curious instead of displeased like before (but alright, it was fair of him to be put off when Anaconda was the first thing he heard, Anthony didn’t blame him).

“Don’t have Freddie in hell?” Anthony chuckled and returned back to filling the plates with Carbonara. It wasn’t like he wanted to fall into an Italian household stereotype but Alastor seemed to like Italian cuisine and it was something Anthony was confident in anyway. Also the praise was always a pretty nice bonus and Anthony might have been fishing for it a little bit.

“Not that I know of,” Alastor hummed. “So what is it about? Murder?”

“I mean… I guess? Sorta?” Anthony shrugged and pushed a plate of steaming food into Alastor’s hands, then gestured towards the table. “Should be about a man who accidentally killed somebody and then sold his soul to the devil.”

“How intriguing!” Of course Alastor would like that topic, grinning like a loon. “You knew the lyrics by heart.”

“It’s a famous song,” Anthony stuck out his tongue. “Everybody knows the lyrics. It’s like an anthem, ya know. Great song.”

“Likeable,” the demon admitted and sat at the table while Anthony handed him a fork and a spoon. “Thank you, dear. Looks splendid as always.”

“I try,” Anthony beamed while sitting down as well. “Oh. Actually, what if I killed somebody too, like, in the future-,”

“Now that would be an adventure, would it not?” Alastor interrupted him with even a wider smile, while the invisible audience cheered, like the idea of murder appealed to him. Why wouldn’t it, as a demon of course he wouldn’t go ew, don’t.

“I’m too pretty for jail, ya know,” Anthony gave him an unamused glare. Alastor hummed in agreement and started eating, his eyes lighting up happily. For a hell person he sure was such a foodie.

“Aww, so you think I’m pretty?” Anthony cooed at him and Alastor glared. It was a thing with this guy – he handled flirtations very badly. Either he got angry or super frustrated, and the latter was honestly so adorable Anthony risked the wrath too often for his own good. “So, what do you like about me?”

“When you don’t talk.” Came a curt reply and Anthony snorted and let him get off the hook.

“What I meant was – what if I killed somebody but didn’t want to go to jail. And wanted to make a deal with you about keeping me safe from them? Would it work?”

“Why wouldn’t it work?” Alastor glanced at him from the food. “Safety is nothing difficult to achieve.”

“I mean,” Anthony leaned against his palm. “We already made a deal. Can you make two deals with the same person?”

“I can make as many deals as I want with the same person,” Alastor answered while twirling his fork in spaghetti. “Why would you think I could not?”

“Not that ya couldn’t but… more like it’s not worth it for ya anymore, right?” Anthony suggested and it seemed like he made an interesting point, since Alastor stopped eating to fully concentrate on the problem. “As in, ya already have my soul-,”

“Heart.”

“And undying love, of course,” Anthony winked at him, earning an eyeroll. Fair. “But another deal would not give ya anything else. Ya already have what ya wanted.”

“Oh, indeed,” the demon nodded thoughtfully. “Obviously true. It depends on the individual. Some demons can take years off the remaining life of the mortal, or actually only state the remaining years for their service, then come collect the life once the time is up.”

“Like they give ya an amazing painting skill, but you have… ten years to live and enjoy the fame?” Anthony prompted and Alastor nodded in agreement. “That sounds… pretty rough. Why would anybody take that?”

“Why would anybody do anything? Mortals are greedy. They want to be acknowledged. Or they fight sheer, absolute boredom and want to elevate it by any means necessary,” the demon tapped his claws against the table in quick staccato. “You think it is not worth it?”

“I mean maybe when I’m fifty, sure, ten years sounds fine,” Anthony shrugged. “But ten years from now? I guess I’d be bummed.”

“Maybe you are not thinking big enough,” Alastor gave him a wide smile. “Not all demons take remaining life force though. Everybody has different methods if necessary. Though the heart is usually a priority.”

“Not for everybody though?”

“Some don’t want underlings,” the demon opposed. “Some only work for Hell itself and don’t take anything, only assure the soul will belong to Hell once the mortal die. Some actually feed on the life force of humans. Hell is having all kind of horrors you can think of, you see.”

“At least yer a daydream,” Anthony winked and Alastor’s smile twitched. Easy. “Building your own harem down there, ya kinky bastard.”

“And here I thought we’re having a meaningful conversation,” the demon sighed and returned to the food, which made Anthony snicker.

“I mean… what do I know, it could be,” he teased him. “What else would ya need some poor bastard’s hearts to do your bidding?”

“To tell them when they need to close their pretty mouths shut if they want to keep them,” Alastor smiled at him sweetly, his crimson eyes shining, and alright, okay, threats on Thursday evening were a thing now. Anthony imitated a zipper on his mouth and quieted down, but still, it was kind of hilarious. Maybe a week ago he’d still be afraid of Alastor pouncing at over the table and slashing his throat but now it was more like no talk, I’m angy sort of meme.

The silence didn’t last very long when Alastor set the fork down and looked at Anthony with curiosity.

“You are full of vigour today,” he observed. “Something good happened? You seem to be in jolly mood.”

“Just glad ya could make it,” Anthony grinned. Alastor became very reliable when it came to the dinner dates and weekend plans after the New Year’s fiasco, never missed one when he promised to come. They found a certain rhythm in the cohabitation and Anthony got used to his presence maybe a little too fast. The man was an enigma with the way he behaved – they slept huddled together no problem, Alastor could be super clingy when he wanted to (rarely though, usually more like only when somehow too tired), but once they were out of the bedroom, any contact was met with stiffness or a five foot rule. The latter became a thing about a week after New Year’s thanks to Anthony’s inability to keep his hands to himself when it came to Alastor’s fluffiness. The hair, the ears and the tail that wagged when he liked something enough, which obviously couldn’t leave Anthony calm, right? A damn cute fluffy wagging tail just… there, for touching.

Well, Alastor wasn’t amused, not by a long shot. The moment Anthony gathered enough courage and touched the thing, the edge of Alastor’s microphone was pushing against his chest to keep him away, and he would have sworn there were creepy symbols flying all around the demon’s head like he was ready to let Anthony get swallowed by some Eldritch monster. Therefore five foot rule became a thing unless it was Alastor who initiated the touch – which was another weird thing about the man. He had no respect for personal space whatsoever, like at all, when he wanted to point out something, make a statement or just felt like it, but once somebody else breached his personal bubble, he bristled like a cat with murderous intent. So Anthony kept his hands to himself but started flirting. Honestly kind of expected a five words rule to happen at some point, but until then he just wanted to have his fun.

“I see,” Alastor watched him carefully and then picked the fork again. “And here I thought you won a lottery or maybe fell in love.”

“Yer the only love of my life, don’t ya worry,” Anthony winked because he could and Alastor let out a sigh that honestly didn’t even sound that fed up, more like just out of habit. “But like. It’s kinda convenient. If somebody confessed to me, that is.”

“Oh?” Alastor’s eyes were sharp.

“My heart belongs to another!” Anthony stated dramatically and then let out a small laugh. “Not even lying? Like. My heart is taken, literally, by the deal we made, it would be like an ultimate move.”

The demon seemed to ponder it, then said nothing. Probably didn’t want to rain on Anthony’s parade on shutting him down needlessly. Naturally, Anthony didn’t think any romance was possible, or even vaguely interesting for the demon, so all his jabs were good-natured but without seriousness.

Or almost all of them. He would be lying if he didn’t admit at least to himself he liked Alastor as a person, not only as a convenient body pillow with Bambi tail he didn’t even let him touch. But such thoughts were private, and he kept them hidden and locked inside of his mind. He learned well enough not to hope to protect himself, and the only relationship there could be was a master and an underling – eventually. Once Anthony die.

Though… who knew when he was going to die. Was Alastor willing to do this his whole life? What if he was going to live to 80? Was he going to cuddle with him and eat dinners every three days in a week for 49 years?

But then again… what is time for a demon? He didn’t even know how old Alastor was. By appearance he’d say maybe around Anthony’s age, but then again, he was never half deer so… could be different. Did deer age count the same as dogs?

“If you ever needed an excuse for that kind of thing,” Alastor suddenly spoke, his voice staticky as always, a weirdly comforting noise lately. “I would recommend saying your husband has a wide collection of knives. It usually scares people away.”

“Pfff.” Husband. “Would need a ring for that, ya know.”

“Mhm,” the demon hummed, not adding anything else. Seriously. He just kept leaving so many openings, there was no way Anthony would not use those when he had a chance.

“So how many knives you have, husband?” he sent him a bright smile and Alastor carefully twirled carbonara on his fork before putting it to his mouth primly, chewed and then gulped down, as a show of how not amusing the jab was, Anthony thought.

Then, after another moment: “About twelve.”

Anthony made a croaking noise and completely missed a smile Alastor hid with another bite of food.

***

“Anthony.”

“Mmmm?”

The clock showed 1 in the morning and Anthony couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he cuddled Alastor under the blanket. He tossed and turned and Alastor had to pull him back to him about ten times, but sleep eluded them both, even with the white noise of Alastor’s static floating around that usually lulled Anthony well enough.

“Can you play the murder song again,” Alastor requested from under Anthony’s weight, sprawled around the middle of the bed.

“Hah, sure,” the human reached for his phone resting on the nightstand and almost blinded himself when the display lit up. He clicked few times until Bohemian Rhapsody broke the silence of the otherwise quiet flat before returning back to lie on top of his demon.

“Sing with it too?” another request and Anthony prompted his chin on Alastor’s chest.

“Can’t sleep either?”

“You keep tossing and turning,” Alastor said simply. “Not me. Sing?”

Anthony raised an eyebrow, but there was no reasoning for the request, so he just softly sang along with the music, looking at Alastor with half lidded eyes until he couldn’t hold them open anymore. The song eventually ended, and Anthony finally felt sleep tugging on his consciousness like he just performed a lullaby that worked a bit too well.

“You asked about more deals for one person before,” he distantly felt a hand going through his hair and only hummed. “For you, my dear, I would close more deals if you ever asked me.”

“Aww,” he chuckled sleepily, his arms circling Alastor’s torso with possessiveness.

“The happier you are,” he heard, “the better your psyche becomes. The stronger the demon you’d be down there.”

“Boo, how cold,” Anthony pouted. “And here I thought ya actually liked me, at least a little.”

“You are… tolerable.” Anthony missed the small smile playing on Alastor’s lips, his face buried in the man’s red shirt. “But I am a professional, you see.”

“A professional dealmaker,” he yawned.

“Quite so.”

“Ya have that in your resume too?” Anthony couldn’t stop the tease. “Ya know, next to professional cuddler?”

“Probably as much as you have an immense tease in yours,” the demon uttered and his voice was thundering in his chest, which was weird, because it sounded like a completely different person without the static echo. Anthony liked it though.

“Sure, but also a good cook,” the human chuckled, “and a quality wife, ya see.”

A hum, then silence. Anthony considered the conversation closed, until Alastor spoke again softly: “There are always ways to get something in return for another deal, beside the servitude or life force.”

“Mmmlikewhat.”

“Why don’t you find out yourself?”

And with that Anthony fell asleep before any kind of dirty joke could come out.

***

2020, January 17th

It stayed in his head the whole next day. He kept thinking about it at home when getting ready to go out, then at work when taking orders and wondered, if a favourite dish made for dinner would be a possible kind of payment for the deal in Alastor’s book. What a demon like him could possibly want beside the heart he already got? He knew Alastor enjoyed good food, but was that actually something that could be exchanged for a supernatural request?

Or was it something kinky, like that in hell the only title Anthony would be able to use when talking to him would be Master? Or My Lord? Anthony could see himself do that, sure, though only in a joke to rile him up a little.

Funny how any fear of the guy went down the drain after the Bambi revelation, no matter how scary Alastor tried to be sometimes.

“Love, this is the third time you messed up an order, are you okay?” his colleague patted his shoulder and he blinked at her in confusion.

“Oh shit, did I?” he realized, after a long loading screen in his brain completed, what she just said and snapped back to reality where the demon in red didn’t bat his eyelashes at him. Not that he ever did. But he could dream. “I’m so sorry, my mind is in a gutter.”

“Yeah, can see that,” the girl patted his arm this time. He wasn’t sure why she was so touchy-feely all of sudden, but didn’t comment on it. “Something on your mind?”

“Weekend plans,” he shrugged and well, he wasn’t even lying, really. This was their weekend together and since Alastor didn’t mention any kind of obstacle in attending, it was Anthony’s turn to think of something to do. The forecast looked glum though, so going outside was probably not the best choice of outing, unless it would be short, so indoors activity sounded a little more satisfying. Maybe they could order some good food home, rather than cook this time. Or drink. Oooh, they could actually drink! He wondered if Alastor even liked alcohol.

“Man, Tony, are you in love or something?” the girl sighed, snapping her fingers in front of him. “You keep spacing out!”

“Well,” he glanced at her with a grin. “My heart has definitely been taken-,”

“In which gangbang this time?” another colleague cut in, smiling at him with fake sweetness while putting empty glasses in the sink with a loud thud. He didn’t even see her coming. “Did they pay you enough to buy you completely? Or just a quickie outside like always?”

Ouch.

“Don’t be salty just because nobody would fuck you even for free,” he cocked his hips. “Heard duster is good for cobwebs though.”

“Whatever you say, slut,” she made a face at him. “I’m not being the one spreading STD.”

“Good at spreading bullshit though,” he shot back, making her give him an uptight smile and a smack of her ponytail when she dramatically turned away and left for the kitchen. He decided not to comment on that and was kind of glad the other girl kept her mouth shut too.

Obviously, everybody at work knew about the New Year’s and his fall from grace – though that would indicate there was grace to begin with, which honestly was not. Maybe he should start looking for another job with how bleak things looked in this pub. The whole week after New Year’s random guys kept making pass at him even in his regular waiter clothes, like somebody just decided to advertise the pub as fuck-to-go eatery and it made his skin itch, especially when some of them were more handsy than others and didn’t understand no sent their way. A slap on his butt there, a grope here, hey cutie called from another table, and the girls he worked with either glared at him or had nasty remarks he should have already been able to deflect, but sometimes he just could not. He wasn’t made of sugar, some bad words and pointed fingers didn’t make him cry, but they didn’t add to good mood either.

He was always relieved if that evening Al showed up and took his worries away with the well-known staticky voice and invisible audience cheering at some of his bad dad jokes. Honestly, he had lots of bad dad jokes it was almost unreal, and the saddest thing was he unironically liked them while Anthony groaned every time he told some. He was just glad so far Alastor didn’t use those cringe worthy abominations against the flirting, because that would definitely shut Anthony down fast.

There were still four hours to his shift and for the first time since he knew Alastor he regretted the demon didn’t have a phone, so he could hear his voice while he locked himself in the bathroom stall with knees under his chin and quivering lip.

***

Anthony still didn’t know what to do over the weekend. It felt like he should have a plan, like there should be a diary or something, with post-it notes and differently coloured entries, but all he could do when he got back home was to sag down in the living room like a bag of potatoes on the couch and open a bottle of tequila. No limes, no salt, just the bottle and big gulps of it. He chugged it several times until the annoying tightness in his chest slowly eased off, until he could breathe normally and the bitter words he heard every time he turned his back towards the bar dissolved in burning taste of alcohol.

Who cared. People were mean and greedy, and he was broken and rotten to the core. Those things usually never combined well together, and he was a living proof. When was the last time he even had a friend? When did somebody expressed concern for him? Damn, when even was the last time somebody held his hair when he threw up?

Self-centred bitch. Show-off. Attention seeker. Dirty slut. A whore.

All fun and smiles and oh, I will do your make up, sweetie, oh, let me do your hair, honey, oh, this costume looks so cute on you, and oh, was it just a quickie outside or you fucked the whole train station? Did he just give you a ride home or you sucked his dick for it? Oh, new shoes? Which sugar daddy’s money was it today?

“Nobody’s fuckin’ money!” he yelled at nothing, swinging the almost empty bottle of tequila around. “None of yer fuckin’ business!”

Maybe we should do next costume event BDSM themed, our little darling angel Tony would love to lick somebody’s boots again.

“Fuck off!” A loud shattering noise when the bottle hit the wall felt like his sanity was breaking to pieces. “Just leave me the fuck alone…”

His brain was so hazed he barely registered arms circling around him, pulling him into a hug. He was swayed from side to side with a soft, crooning noise above him, and thought damn, how bad is it I even hallucinate? Up until he finally focused enough to realize he was engulfed with blackness without any real warmth, just suddenly there, holding him.

“Oh…” he chuckled pathetically. “It’s you.”

The Shadow nuzzled his face but didn’t say anything, just continued to hold him. Frankly, Anthony had no idea what day it was, even what time or where exactly he ended up, if he moved at all, if Alastor was supposed to come but couldn’t make it, so he sent Junior instead, or if this was some kind of weird, alcohol induced vision of much needed comfort.

“Whacha do’n her’, big boy?” The words were slurring together, the alcohol was doing its magic. “Al’s busy busy busy?”

Another nuzzle. Was that a touch therapy? Nobody touched him so readily before. Not even Al who cuddled him at night, but usually touched him only in two prime locations – his waist and around neck and head for pats, but otherwise kept his hands to himself. The Shadow on the other hand just pawed at him pretty much like a big dog wanting to rub all over and Anthony blearily wondered how a man and his shadow could be so different.

“Th’re, t’re,” he patted the Shadow’s head, a strange ghost-like tingling going through his hand. “Ar’ ya sad too?”

The hold remained and the dark tendrils from the shade were covering half of the couch like an expensive Persian rug. That mental image made Anthony bark out a drunken laugh. Could somebody’s shadow be sad? It was clinging to him like a lifeline and Anthony felt the tequila churning in his belly as if it were trying to burn its way through.

“Ah,” he finally realized what the shadow was doing. “Yer tryin’ t’ comf’rt me.”

A hum, clearly agreeing. It made Anthony relax into the hold, feeling a little like floating and not sitting on his tequila-stained couch, and yeah, it was relaxing, it was nice, it was… different.

“Wond’r how Al’s hugs ar’,” he sighed then giggled stupidly. “Prob’ly warm an’ nice. D’es he ev’n hug pe’ple?”

Maybe he did hug people. Just different people. Not Anthony, at least. Touching only when necessary. Maybe he could make a deal about hugging, Al said more deals are possible. Maybe he could ask for one hug a week or something, like one full body hug and then wait for seven days for Al to get his barriers back… or whatever he had. Human contact aversion, probably. He just wasn’t sure what to give in return. Being a personal cook? Not flirting at any point ever again?

Would Al even want shit like that? Or would he want some of his life force? Years off his back? He would give them… for Alastor. If he wanted his life force, Anthony wouldn’t mind if it was him. His life was not worth much anyway.

Would Alastor want something as rotten as his life energy though? Sure, he wanted his heart at least, but it just meant to have a servant later on, nothing he would feed himself with.

Unless he ate his servants. That would kinda suck.

“I k’nda like ‘im, y’kno,” he confessed quietly, slowly slipping lower in the hold. The anger he felt was already gone, now the tequila tried to pull at melancholy, and he didn’t like it. Didn’t need to be sad over the fact the only person at least vaguely resembling affectionate concern was a demon from hell that got paid with his soul and heart for acting out of his character three times a week. “Path’tic me, huh.”

Nuzzling ensued. He liked Al’s shadow. He was like a big animal soaking up bad vibes and making Anthony calmer.

“Wish I c’n talk to ‘im when I feel sad,” he mumbled to himself and barely registered the shadow pulled them both down to the cushions. “’s he French? He sounded French ‘nce…”

“Cajun,” rang through the room and Anthony attempted to focus, but his vision kept on blurring. Maybe he drank too much after all. “Louisiana.”

“Bayou boy?” he giggled anyway. “That’s cute.”

“You drank too much, cher,” rang through the room again and then another sigh came, and radio static buzzed to life. “And you. I was wondering where you slithered to.”

There was a rumble from under Anthony and he felt the force supporting him up to now disappearing until he only felt the couch around him and nothing else. He blinked in confusion before his vision cleared enough to realize all the darkness around him was gone, but legs clothed in red were standing next to him instead. They definitely weren’t there prior to his meltdown, he remembered as much.

He rubbed his eyes and attempted to look up before it finally dawned on him that this was Alastor standing here, flesh and bone and he didn’t even need to get all the way up to his face.

“Look at you,” the voice sounded a little exasperated and human. There was no static whatsoever. “Dat’s da second time you did somethin’ like dis.”

“Hi, Al,” Anthony tried sheepishly, and a clawed hand pushed him back into the cushions when he tried to sit down. Maybe for the best, the floor seemed to wobble more than usual.

“Hi yo’self,” the human voice was so warm. Or maybe he was drunk enough to imagine it that way. “How’s dat you make my shadow to just go and disappear from ‘ell just fo’ you?”

“I guess he likes me,” Anthony slid down the armrest and finally took in the whole Alastor’s height, gazing at his face he couldn’t read even if he tried to. He watched the demon look around until he stopped at the corner where the bottle landed and fell apart and his eyebrows knitted together.

“Hey Al,” Anthony raised a hand and tried to grab at something of the mans’ but missed. He tried few more times but couldn’t decide which of the three Alastors were the right one, so he just fumbled around until Alastor took a pity on him and grabbed his hand in his, stilling him. Also, warm. So, so warm. “Do you ever hug people?”

“No,” the demon answered back simply. “Do you?”

Anthony took a breath with sure answer, then stopped and thought about it.

“…I guess not,” he conceded momentarily. “Nobody t’ hug, really.”

“D’you wanna hug?” came a question and Anthony looked at their joined hands and let out a long, tired sigh.

“Ya,” he croaked out. “I wanna hug. I dun even rememb’r who or when I hugged someb’dy last.”

“I think I hugged ma mum last,” Alastor slowly lowered himself on the couch, sitting at Anthony’s feet, his hand still gripping his prey tightly. “Long time ago.”

“Was she nice?” the human whispered softly.

“Very nice.”

“Do ya miss her?”

“Ev’ry day,” Alastor had the softest expression Anthony ever saw on him. It was almost painful to see and yet somehow beautiful it would be a waste not to look. He wondered if Alastor was ever in love with somebody other than his mum.

“She in heaven?” he asked gently and only got a nod as a response. He felt his head clearing a little and hoped he would remember this tomorrow as clearly as he saw it now. He tried to scramble up, though it probably was the least dignified climb he ever did and then shuffled close to the demon, sitting down with his knees almost touching Alastor’s thigh. Almost.

“Tell me ‘bout her,” he nudged him gently.

The demon tilted his head, the buzz of the static coming to life all of sudden it almost startled him. Probably not the best topic to breach, he realized and looked down at the clawed hand that was still holding his with surprising gentleness.

“Your shadow is pretty independent, huh,” he changed the topic for peace of mind of both of them, and the buzzing intensified. Fuck, not that either.

“My shadow has no filter,” the static voice rang out, the tenseness of Alastor’s smile indicating the situation bothered him more than he let on at first. “He does what feels right.”

So, it felt right for it to come here and comfort Anthony when he felt like shit and wanted to drink himself into stupor?

“It’s nice sometimes,” Anthony tried carefully. “To do what feels right instead of worryin’ ‘bout consequences.”

The static picked up in obvious disagreement and Alastor was glaring at him, his eyes redder than ever.

“Like you do all your miserable life?” the demon uttered venomously, and Anthony felt his heart drop into his stomach and dissolve. When Alastor let go of his hand and abruptly stood up, it felt so far away it could have been considered out of body experience for how cold it suddenly became.

“Well,” his mouth moved by some miracle, though he felt his lower lip quiver. “Some days are hard and lonely. And then I get called a slut at work and groped by random guys because they think they’re allowed, and I feel like I need a hug and safety, but nobody can give me what I want, so I cling to somethin’ that feels right at least a little, even though it’s not good… or healthy… or… “

Sincere and not a lie.

“Or I just wanna forget all that shit by doin’ more dumb shit, because… why not. At least it makes me free for a while, other than just… surviving,” he tried to take a breath but it came in wet and hiccup-y and he realized he was already crying like a pathetic fool thinking a demon could give a shit about anything more than the end of the deal and one more chess piece on his black and white board.

Fucking, stupid idiot, like always. Even though he knew. He knew.

The static was so loud now it made Anthony cover his ears and shut his eyes and he felt sick in the stomach and the fucking tequila wanted to fuck him up now, because why not now, at this exact moment, when everything else was falling apart.

Just go away, go the fuck away, leave me alone.

Then everything stopped. When Anthony opened his eyes, he was alone.

***

2020, January 18th

Anthony woke up on the couch with a crick in his neck and stomach unstable like nitro-glycerine ready to explode. The room smelled of tequila shots and vomit and heartbreak and his whole body was in weird, gut wrenching spasm.

He stared into the ceiling with a splitting headache and wished he’d draw a blank about last night, because nothing about this situation gave a merciful vibe, only bad, bad consequences.

Like Alastor leaving, angry and staticky and cruel.

“FUUUUCK!” he yelled into silence and then grabbed a pillow so he could shout in it again as loud as he could. Regret immediately followed, but he probably deserved to suffer a bit more than usual after a vicious hangover and a dealmaker break up.

Obviously Alastor thought Anthony’s life was miserable. Even Anthony knew it was miserable, he was living it, and he got it. He even made a deal with a devil to make himself less miserable which only added to the pathetic part of the diagnose, so in the end there was nothing much left of him but a huge, pitiful mess.

And Alastor got dragged right into it – a failure after failure, just picking him up with all those fake smiles to keep the deal going because at the end the reward was guaranteed, but it was pretty apparent the equation was not adding up and the result could never be good enough for the demon’s standards.

He just wondered if there was a way to break the deal anyhow, from the demon’s side. There was no way Alastor was coming back after all that, and if he was by some miracle, then only to deliver a killing blow, collecting the soul at least and then leaving him to get eradicated in hell like any other lesser shade.

He managed to drag himself to the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid for 27 minutes before deciding to make himself throw up rather than wait if it would come by itself. It didn’t make him feel any better, sadly, so he just took a shower to get rid of all the sweat and guilt (sadly didn’t work for that one) under streams of water and remained there with head pressed against tiles in hope he would melt through the drain.

Would be honestly quite helpful.

“Anthony?”

He blinked. Did he just hear his name or…?

“Anthony, my good fellow, are you still alive?” Again.

That was Alastor‘s voice. Anthony stared at the door of the shower stand, afraid to even make a sound until he heard his name called once more and that couldn’t be his imagination anymore, right?

“…yeah?” he made himself talk but refused to step out.

“Good! You are still here,” Alastor’s voice was closer now, probably in the hallway. “I am taking your kitchen for now, but please do join me at your convenience!”

Happy, loud voice. The fake cheeriness he heard few times and learned how to recognize – he usually acted like that when he was mad at Anthony for needless flirting but refused to show it.

It made no sense. Why was he here?

The water started to run cold and Anthony gritted his teeth and turned it off, just to carefully step out, bundle up in a towel and added a fluffy bathrobe before cautiously leaving the bathroom. Jazz was playing through the radio in the kitchen and Alastor was humming along while the sound of cutting and simmering added to the ambience.

Was he cooking?

The human stopped near the entrance to the living room and took a deep breath. He wasn’t ready to face him just yet, he still felt like a raw bundle of nerves on two wobbly feet. It was ridiculous – Alastor didn’t exactly do anything wrong. He just stated how things were, Anthony hadn’t been told for the first or last time in his life for sure. He had no right to be mad about the truth.

It was just… such a bad timing. After having a bad day, after going through a depressive episode where the self-loathing starred in the main role, then get this thrown in his face like a hot potato just hurt. Rightfully. But still hurt.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” the staticky voice interrupted his thoughts and the tone was much less cheery now. It made his stomach drop and he unconsciously took a step back. There was a clink sound of a knife being put down and then steps leading towards him, which immediately made him panic and he shut the door to the living room with a loud slam.

The steps halted.

“Should I leave?” Came a question from the other side of the door, loud and clear and scary.

“I don’t know,” Anthony answered back, his hands shaking. It sucked. He should not be this way; he didn’t make a deal for feeling worse than on his normal bad days. He made a deal to be lied to, to be coddled, and then to die and suffer for being a coward, and that was it.

“I will if you want me to,” Alastor said quietly. “I am not here to torture you. Or make you feel bad.”

Too late, bucko.

“I crossed a line yesterday.” It sounded suspiciously like an apology, Anthony thought. “I apologize for saying what I said.”

“What, the truth?” Anthony snorted and leaned against the closed door, eyebrows knitted together unhappily. “Ya don’t need to worry about that one.”

“It upset you.”

“That’s what the truth does.”

“Yes, agreed,” there was a hint of guilt in Alastor’s voice, no matter how he tried to hide it with his radio nonsense. “I was upset too. But still… I should not have lashed out like that.”

Upset?

Anthony turned his head, partly facing the door. What was even Alastor upset about? He just suddenly got all staticky in there, just because Anthony asked… about his mum?

“Because I asked about your mum?” he tried and Alastor on the other side sighed.

“I am going to open the door now,” he stated instead, and Anthony immediately caught the handle in refusal with an immediate no. “Anthony.”

“I don’t get ya,” the human groaned, holding the door closed like it was a lifeline. “I just don’t get ya, why are ya even here? Why were ye so mad yesterday? For a while ya were the nicest person in the whole fuckin’ world and then ya kicked me when I was already on the fuckin’ ground, so why now? Why pretend yer a nice guy when ye don’t care?”

Silence.

“Just because I asked ‘bout her? Ya think it’s somethin’ I can hold against ya in hell or what?” He had no idea if Alastor was still even there. It was deadly silent on the other side, he probably just poofed out of thin air again rather than listen to this.

“No,” sounded behind him all of sudden and it made him curse loudly when he suddenly faced Alastor in his red shirt, with coat nowhere to be seen, his sleeves rolled up and his face not smiling at all. If anything, he actually looked quite hurt.

Fucking filthy lying bastard, that one. Actor worthy of a Golden Globe.

“That’s cheatin’,” Anthony scoffed but Alastor didn’t seem to mind it. He wasn’t immediately in his personal bubble, but he wasn’t far either and it made Anthony unable to collect his thoughts properly. All he wanted was to shout and maybe smack him a bit too. But the demon could bite his arms off, so he refrained from doing anything but glare.

“You seem to like my shadow much better,” Alastor said evenly.

Anthony didn’t get how that was relevant to anything.

“He likes to hug,” he said lamely.

“You like him because he hugs you?” Alastor’s expression morphed into a surprise and Anthony really didn’t get why was he asking about his shadow now of all times.

“Wha… who cares?” he stared at the demon, hating he felt cornered like an animal. “How’s yer shadow even relevant to this conversation?”

“I thought you were asking why I was upset,” Alastor looked away for a while, a strangely nervous gesture. “Therefore, I’m telling you.”

“Because I seem to like yer shadow better?” Anthony almost lost his jaw for how low it dropped and holy fucking shit, was Alastor fidgeting? Was he for real? Was it some refined plan for Anthony to drop his defences again? To act cute as fuck?

His fucking ears were droopy too, Anthony realized, his eyes glued to the top of the demon’s head. No. no no no. This couldn’t be real.

“Are you fuckin’ with me?”

“Since I made a deal with you,” Alastor ignored the question, but still avoided his eyes. “I felt like I lack complete control for some reason. It makes me uneasy when things do not work the way they are supposed to. The way I want them to.”

At that moment it finally hit him.

“You didn’t order yer shadow to come here even once,” Anthony stated, and the static crackled again until Alastor shook his head to get rid of it. Oh. He really didn’t like when things were out of his reach. And his shadow just fucking off to visit the human must have been one of them, especially yesterday.

“But… but you can’t blame me for that?” the human insisted, his eyes wide. “It’s not like I called him here or…”

“Of course not,” Alastor let out a sigh. “He just acts on his feelings.”

“Your shadow likes me?”

“You keep referring to him like he is a completely different person,” the demon crossed his arms on his chest. His forearms were scarred and for some reason showing that bit of skin now seemed like a big step for the man, though Anthony wouldn’t really call him vulnerable. Still scary as fuck.

Silence. Alastor tilted his head to the side, then pursed his lips and looked away again.

“He is not,” he added for good measure. “We are the same being.”

Anthony gaped.

“He has no filter,” he repeated, the conversation yesterday so clear even despite his drunken state, and the more he was staring at Alastor in front of him, the more the demon in red seemed to fluster.

“I, for one,” the demon finally spoke, “have tons of filters. We seem to disagree when it comes to you. On how to… handle you.”

Full body hug versus five foot rule is a pretty wide gap, Anthony mused, still gaping.

“I was unfair yesterday,” Alastor cleared his throat. “You are not… well, of course you are pretty miserable, honestly,” he looked him over, and yeah, okay, fair. He must have looked like complete shit with the hangover, now bundled up in fluffiness of the bathrobe. “There’s no denying it, and you are at least aware of it. But that was not supposed to make you feel bad. It is why we are going to fix this. Eventually.”

“Fix…?” Anthony repeated, not being able to get his expression under control.

“Yes. And then you will die and that would be it, but that is not important right now,” Alastor shook his head again, his voice softer. “Now… you are alive. And you need me.”

“Cocky, aren’t ya,” Anthony sniffed a little. “Mr. Control Freak.”

“At least I don drink tequila like a savage,” Alastor scoffed, the static dropping from his voice like a curtain. “No class at all, cher.”

“Bite me,” Anthony flipped him off and finally opened the door to the living room. Somehow it felt like a gateway where his insecurity had no way to pass and when he walked through, his chest was not so tight anymore.

Then he realized there was a dead deer in the living room, and he hurled out the rest of his stomach contents.

“Tu as fait un gâchis,” Alastor said and went back to the kitchen.

No. No nice things. Alastor was a fucking freak.

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

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spikeisawesome456 · 6 years ago

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So... I decided to do all of these asks, because I was bored. :-D

Obscure Asks.

1. what’s your favorite way to dress? Uhh… Comfortably. I tend to just wear yoga pants, graphic t-shirts, and a Dipper hat.

2. if you could change anything about yourself, what would it be? Ohhh… I both want to say lots of things, and nothing. Because on one hand, there are things about me that annoy me (I overshare, I sometimes get insanely hyper, like now, I can be really mean/rude, etc.…), but on the other hand, I do enjoy who I am. For all my faults, I am proud of the person I’ve become, and the person I’m still becoming. Maybe I’d make my memory better, so I could really utilize my intelligence, and stop forgetting people’s names because it’s starting to get really rude.

3. what movie/game/etc. helps you calm down? Eh… I like to play Stardew Valley, but it doesn’t help me calm down. I play it when I’m calm. It actually used to stress me out… probably not a good example. Uh… Nothing, I guess. Music helps. Sometimes. Basically, when I’m stressed, the only thing that can help is solving the problem or ignoring the problem. And if I can’t ignore it, I just… get stressed. Hugging my mom sometimes helps.

4. what does your room smell like? Like… a room? It smells okay? It recently smells like Maple Cinnamon Pancakes, because I got a Maple Cinnamon Pancake candle from Bath and Body Works, so… yeah?

5. do you like to organize? Ehh… Like to, yes. Do I do it? Noooo….

6. what kind of music would you listen to if you could only choose one? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Why Would You Ask Me This???????????? Also I’m assuming this means genre. But… Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

7. what song is your aesthetic? Um… I don’t really know my Aesthetic? I’m a bit all over the place. Girly, tom boy, shiny, glittery, matte…. Fast, slow, everything in between and outside. If you know of a song like that, then that’s me! Otherwise… Eh.

8. what color do you think goes best with your personality? Uh… No idea. I like blue, though. I’m not that calm a person, though. Well, sometimes, but not always. Well, it depends on what you mean by calm. So… Probably purple, a mix between loud red/orange and cool blue.

9. do you believe in auras? Not… really? A little? Like, we each have our own personal feel, and energy. Like, in a psychological way. But in the color way? Not really. Can people feel other’s energy better than others? Sure! But that’s just a hyper awareness of self and other, not a “six sense,” or whatever.

10. what do you wish you hated, but actually like? I don’t wish to hate anything.

11. vague about your crush(es) I… don’t have any. I decided a long time ago that crushes were stupid, after I ruined a good friendship with my weird crush. Plus, I don’t spend enough time around people to develop crushes.

12. is there someone you have mixed feelings towards? Not… really? Some of my old professors, maybe. My Abnormal Psychology professor was nice, sometimes, but could say such mean things at times about people with mental illness.

13. talk about an au or story you came up with Oh! I made up a story about a man who has two sons (though I changed it so one child, the elder, was a daughter in the last edit, so…) who sold his soul to keep them safe and happy, after he lost all his money when his business partner skipped town and left his embezzlement charges with the man. The man didn’t get sent to jail, since the small town had pity on him, but he did lose all his money, meaning his eldest, now a daughter, had to steal. Hating that, he made a deal with the devil. 2 years later, the devil (who isn’t evil, but more like the Jewish idea of the devil, who is a temptation) comes knocking and the man learns that instead of taking his soul, since the devil would get it at his death regardless (in order to make a deal with the devil you had to commit the greatest sin, murder, thus tainting your soul), the devil took the thing you loved most. For selfish men, it would be their fame and money. For lustful men, it would be their object of affection. For the man, who had made the deal for selfless reasons, it was his children, whom he loved more than anything.

The plot would have gone into the man trying to escape the devil, who graciously gave him a week to prepare, but I didn’t know how to write it, and it’s kind of been in my notes on my iPod for years. It would have ended with the devil catching up to the family, with the man finally begging the devil to let his children live, that it wasn’t their fault. And the devil would have smiled, sweetly, before killing the children while the man watched. As the devil turned away, the man would have brokenly asked why? Why he couldn’t have left them alone? And the devil would have chuckled sadly and said that it was what had always been planned. That the entire chase had been futile from the very first moment. The devil had sympathy for the man, but he couldn’t go against the orders of God (my version of the devil is kinder, more sympathetic to the plights of humans, since I view the “devil” not as an enemy, but as, I previously mentioned, a temptation. He tempts people, on God’s orders, but doesn’t have any true animosity towards humanity. He just follows orders). Finally, the man begs the devil to kill him, to end his suffering, that even an eternity in Hell would be better than living knowing he killed his children. And then, I’m split on the ending. In the dream that inspired this story, the devil smiles wickedly and says, “I thought you’d never ask,” before bashing the man (me, in the dream) over the head with a bat, since in the dream the devil was eviler. But I think it’s more poignant to let the devil laugh softly again, turn, and say “Oh, my dear man. That’s the whole point,” before walking away/disappearing.

Anyway, that was my main story idea. I really like it, and wrote about 20,000 words for it, but got stuck on the middle part. I wanted to add an old friend of the man’s, who became an alcoholic following the death of one of their old friends. The friend group fell apart after the man left for plot reasons, which I don’t have time to explain, and it grew worse until one of their friends died, and the whole friend group fell apart and she became an alcoholic. However, I wasn’t sure if this subplot took away from the whole plot, and I felt it was written poorly, so I kind of gave up. Plus, I had no idea what obstacles the devil could put in their way, since I don’t know religion. Though… I am currently taking a bible course in college, so maybe I’ll revisit the story. If anyone wants to read what I have, send me a message. :-)

14. do you like makeup? Eh… Depends. I sometimes like it. Also, after writing about my whole story, going back to these questions just feel weird. Eh.

15. do you prefer space or the ocean? I like the ocean, since I can see it more often. Though, I love looking at the stars when I can. I just live in a city with tons of light pollution and can’t ever see the stars.

16. if you could pick any planet besides earth, where would you live? ????? What other planets could I live on??? I don’t know any real planets that have life on them, and none of the 7 others we have interest me much. Or is this fictional? In which case… I don’t know?

17. what form of government do you like the most? (capitalism, socialism, etc.) Um… this took a dark turn. “Hey, what’s your favorite color??” “Do you like makeup??? :-D” “What is your political preference, you capitalist/commie scum???” This question just feels like a trap the cops laid in the middle of a silly, fun little quiz.

18. what animal would you keep as a pet, if you could? I’d keep a cat, but I’m allergic. And a little afraid. Also, I think this means like, wild animal, or mythical creature, but I wouldn’t want to keep a wild animal captive, even if I could. Same with mythical creature.

19. what do you think our purpose is in the universe? To do our best and to enjoy the life we’ve been given. This relates to the next question, but I believe that if there is a God, they’d want us to enjoy life.

20. do you believe in god(s)? Continuing from the last question, yes and no. I believe in a higher power, since I don’t see how the entire universe and life can just be random, but I don’t really believe in “God” or “gods” as humans have imagined them, as helpful or destructive forces that meddle with humanity. I believe they would be a high creature, humans unable to sense them since we don’t have the body parts available to “see” them. There would likely be multiple higher beings, but it is possible one is in charge of earth, to look over us. Though, no miracle granting or listening in, since they probably aren’t on the same timeline we are, or an entire generation to us is a second to them. The afterlife is tricky, which is why I’m so terrified to die, so I won’t go into it. But, long story short, yes. I do believe in a sort of “God.” What they mean to earth, what they want with us, I don’t know. But I do believe something created the universe, and watches over the various planets. Also, I believe that other planets have life, and that aliens may or may not have visited earth, but if they did, we might not have known, since, like with “God,” we don’t have the appendages or body parts available to “see” them. I mean, if we didn’t have eyes or ears, we’d never know what we were missing. Who knows what we can’t “see” because we don’t have the right parts?

21. is there a song you can’t handle listening to, even though you like it? Ehh…. Nothing, really. But, there was a P!nk song I had to turn off halfway through. Not because I hated it, but because it reminded me of my family too much it hurt. I didn’t really like the song, but it was okay. I think it was called Family Portrait? Update, I looked it up, and yes, it is called Family Portrait, by P!nk. It’s not completely similar to my family, but it’s close enough that it just… hurt.

22. what ex do you miss the most, if you have one? If you never date, you can never have an ex you miss the most. *Insert guy tapping his forehead meme here*

23. do you like soft, fluffy blankets or rough/smooth blankets? Soft ones. Who… who likes rough blankets??? What??? I mean, I prefer smoother ones, I guess, to super fluffy. But rough? Really??

24. what is your favorite thing to learn about? Psychology!!! I love it!

25. what country’s history do you find the most interesting? Um… I don’t really like history. I’m taking a history class, though, and I liked Islam’s history. No one country, but the history of the Middle East and Islam.

26. what do you think about genderbent ____ (insert someone here) I think this is one where you had to send in a question for. So, feel free to ask me about any genderbend you like, but warning: I tend not to like genderbent characters. I just think it’s weird, and pointless. Especially if you genderbend a character to make a gay ship straight. Like… dude. Or, vice versa, to make a straight ship gay. It’s just… unnecessary. Make new characters or find a different ship.

27. what breakup was the hardest, if you had one? *insert answer from question 22, but exchange “Ex you miss the most” for “hardest breakup”

28. do you have someone where you can’t decide if you like them romantically or just as a friend? Not really. Going back to question 11, I don’t spend enough time around people to really know. But, as I have weird understandings of friendship and love, as well as a deep loneliness that makes me emotionally invested in anyone who is even slightly a friend, this sort of happens all the time. I just want to be less lonely, usually. I’m just… bad at people. I tend not to like them, and they bore me, yet I long to be around people and have friends. So. Lots of contradictions.

29. what do you think about Tumblr discourse? Eh. I think most of it is stupid. Just… chill. The world sucks, it’s best just to do things you enjoy, don’t sweat the small stuff. Even the big stuff. If there’s nothing you can do, just… move on. Live with it, and live your life. Don’t yell at random people, even If they’re “terrible.” Nothing is black and white, and as soon as you start attacking others because of your opinion, you’re becoming a person in the wrong, even if your view is virtuous. No one is right. No one is wrong. It’s just a matter of opinion. Now, does that mean you shouldn’t argue your point? No! Your view is valid and if it matters to you, express it. But don’t hate on another because of it. Or else you lose your virtue, your moral “righteousness.” Sorry, this went in a wrong direction. But… yeah.

30. what instrument do you wish you could master? Piano, guitar, and violin. Piano the most, though.

31. how easy is it for you to be honest? Pretty easy? I tend to be honest, most often, because I don’t really see why not. But it’s also easy to tell white lies or to omit truths, if it makes my life easier. So. Eh.

32. do you have any strange interests? Nothing I can really think of? Nothing that other people aren’t interested in. I like collecting coins, but so do many others.

33. do you have any strange fears? Ehh… I’m a bit afraid of animals, but it’s mostly because I’m afraid of them hurting me, which isn’t really strange?? So… again, not really? Most of my fears are common. Maybe my fear of holes? Like, on the skin? But people have that fear, too. And it’s less a fear and more of a disgust.

34. what food do you binge on when you’re lazy? Anything I can, really. I tend not to get super hungry, so I only eat when I’m bored or “lazy”, or when I know people should eat. Also, I dislike calling it lazy, since I think that’s a negative word for a more complicated feeling. For me, at least.

35. when you get angry, how do you show it? I tend to go quiet and seethe. I don’t usually yell, though I will if the other person (my dad usually) is yelling. I prefer leaving the room, though, or else getting all “righteous”. Like, righteous fury, though I’m not always righteous when I get angry.

36. do you have any impulsive movements? (twitches, ticks, flapping, etc.) Dude, yes. I tend to crack my knuckles/twist my hands impulsively/nervously. I also tap/rub my thumb against my fingers, or move my foot. Mostly when I’m “hyper,” or possibly manic. Otherwise, when I’m more down, it’s just the cracking knuckles thing.

37. what do you listen to music on? iPod/Phone, and my computer. I tend not to listen to radio. Sometimes I’ll listen to new music on YouTube, but it’s mostly iTunes/the iPod/phone music app.

38. are you left brained or right brained? Well, we all have both right and left brains, so I am both. Since no one side of the brain can be really more dominant. Unless part of your brain is dead, like my mother’s, who is more right brained, since parts of her left brain died when she was born. But, since I understand what this question is asking, I am, really, both. I’m creative and logical. Shocker.

39. earbuds or headphones? Oh, headphones, every time. I HATE earbuds. They always fall out of my ears. I mean I’ll take them if I have nothing else, but I hate them.

40. do you like light blankets or heavy blankets? Eh…. I tend to have heavy blankets, even though it’s hot where I am, and I need a fan to keep me cool. So. Yeah.

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